Category: T for Teen

Werewolf and Demon Hunter: A Lust Story

They faced each other in the hallway, each with their back against the opposing wall.

“All I need is your ‘yes’, Ashe, but not if you aren’t completely sure,” Kami said. She inhaled slowly. Dirt. River water. Sweat. Summer heat. The tiniest hint of gunpowder. And under it all, the scent of Ashe’s arousal. Ashe had been hunting tonight.

Ashe said nothing. Kami nodded once, resigned, then pushed herself off the wall and turned to the door.


Kami’s pulse jumped. She waited.

“I’m nervous, Kami.”

“Ashe the demon hunter? Nervous?” She faced Ashe again.

“I’ve never been with — “

“A werewolf?”

“A *woman*. You think I give a rat’s ass that you’re a werewolf?”

“You just give a rat’s ass that I’m a woman. Is your attraction so hard for you to believe?”

“No! I’m just,” Ashe paused, “afraid to do it wrong.”

“Wrong?” Kami raised her eyebrows.

“Stop it. I wanted to be ready, to know what I was doing, so I did some … research.”

“No way.” Kami stifled a laugh. “Have you been watching lesbian porn?”

“Maybe. And then there were all the other things I found on the internet.” There was that uncharacteristic blush again. Utterly adorable.

In two steps, Kamie closed the distance between them and pressed her hands to the wall on either side of Ashe’s shoulders. “I’m a far better teacher than the internet. All I need is your yes, Ashe.”

Ashe grabbed Kami’s belt loops and tugged her closer. “Hell, yes.”

Submitted for Thursday Threads, 284 – Weird, Wild, and Wicked.
Required Phrase: “Other things I found on the internet.”
Place: First – View Here

Well, Hell

“You kept him in the basement for a week. And?”

“He never talked. He didn’t even clear his throat.”

“You didn’t feed him, did you?”


“Water him?”


A pause.

“Is his body still in the basement?”

“He’s still in the basement, but he’s not dead.”

“What do you mean he’s not dead? You said he’s had no fluids.”

Another pause.

“I’m thinking maybe he’s not human.”

“Not human. I’m thinking maybe you’ve spent too long in the basement yourself.”

“No, you’ve got to listen to me. He never went to the bathroom, either.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean not even on day one. I never offered to take him, he never asked to go, and he never wet himself. He just sat there, tied to a chair, not talking, not moving, not eating, not drinking, not pissing, and not dying.”

Another pause. A longer one.

“So what do you suggest?”

“We need a different approach for something that’s not human.”

“Which is?”

“Lock him up and ditch the key.”

“In that case, why not just kill him?”

“I tried. I know I didn’t have permission, but it I couldn’t reach you.”

“You tried.”

“Stabbing. Shooting. Smothering. Strangling.”

A hesitation.

“Go on.”

“Sunlight. Silver. A bible. Holy water. Other things I found on the internet. I got a little desperate.”

“And he’s still alive.”


A nod.

“Lock him up. Bring me the key. Hope to the gods he never gets out.”

Submitted for Thursday Threads, 283 – Weird, Wild, and Wicked.
Required Phrase: “And he never talked.”
Placed: First – View Here

Packing Up

This is a story of Manuel the miscreant werewolf and his human mate, the intrepid inventor Ellory. They have made previous appearances in

TOMORROW MORNING, when Sci Spanks 2015 starts, Ellory and Manuel will be coming to you in their  newest adventure, Counting Sheep. Get yourself all set for Sci Spanks here: Play Sci Spanks 2015

Meanwhile, enjoy another morsel of time with Ellory and Manuel.


January, 1864

Manuel propped his elbow on the arm of his “Alpha Seat” and rested his head against his fist. He bit back a yawn as his Beta, Gerald Worthington, continued plowing through the agenda.

“And as for the question of how far Mr. Tildon’s territory extends,” Worthington droned, “Mr. Barnes will be surveying the measurements this week and will report back on any discrepancies between the size of Mr. Tildon’s territory compared to the territories of the rest of the pack. At that point — “

Enough.” Manuel interrupted, pounding his fist on the arm of his oversized chair. “First it was which of us should attend which social events to keep up with London politics. Then it was whether we should invest in a pack tailor, to ensure all of us properly represent the pack – despite the fact that no one knows we exist. Now it’s equalizing territories by inches.” Every eye in the room had grown wide during his outburst. “I have decided this is the most boring pack in the history of packs.”

Several of the pale men turned red around the collar. Worthington cleared his throat. “As you know, Alpha Pilar — “

Manuel snorted. “Stop calling me that.”

Worthington hesitated only a blink before continuing, “Territory agreements are the primary way we reduce our need for succumbing to our vile natures and engaging in –”

Manuel held up a hand. “Werewolves don’t negotiate territory by contract and measurement. Our natures aren’t vile. And a dominance battle is good for the soul.” He waved at the cups around the room, “I am done with all this tea. And these meetings. And this resistance to accepting your true selves.”

Worthington turned red and trembled now. “Maybe you should have thought of that before you killed Alpha Gilman.”

Good. Anger is good.

“Ah, there is backbone in there after all. Excellent. And we all well know that Gilman is dead because he came after me for simply moving to London and having roots in Mexica. Had I known what I’d be in for with this pack, I might have let him kill me.”

“You — You — You — “ Worthington’s teeth dropped to points as long as Manuel’s index finger. “Dominance battles are good for the soul are they? Then it’s past time I challenge you!”

Enough control for a partial shift. Good, again.

“Well and good. I submit.” Manuel replied. Worthington blinked. “You be the Alpha. I’m going home.”

“To Mexica?” One of the pack members asked hopefully.

“No, you dimwit. To Bayswater.”

Back at the townhouse he shared with Ellory, Manuel crawled into bed next to his mate. Ellory sat against the headboard with his nose in a book full of math. Manuel curled up with this head on Ellory’s lap and growled in soft contentment when Ellory finger-combed his hair.

“How was the meeting?” Ellory asked.

“I quit.”

“Took longer than I expected.”

“I want to move to Wales.”

“To do what? Be the lone wolf in sheep country?”

“There’s a pack there.” Manuel picked at the blankets covering Ellory’s legs. “They don’t exactly like me yet, but I’m sure I can fix that.”

Ellory snorted, his nose still buried in his book, giving Manuel half an ear at best. “And my workshop?” He slid a hand inside the collar of Manuel’s shirt, kneading the muscles there.

Manuel nuzzled Ellory’s thigh and answered, “The home’s on plenty of land, so I took the liberty of having a second building designed just for you.”

“Mmmmm.” Ellory gently squeezed the back of Manuel’s neck, sending pleasant shivers down his spine before stopping short. “What home?”

“Our new one in Wales.”

“Our new home in — Manuel.”

Manuel turned his head to see Ellory’s face. “I love you?”

“Yes. And I’m going to love you right up until I strangle the life out of you.”

Manuel grinned. “I love it when you say nice things to me.”

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