Okay how about Deucalion goes to Chris to ask if he can join them for a night because he just wants some attention, some affection… and Slutty!Peter overwhelms him during the fucking so much that Chris has to take extra time soothing him once everyone has come. So poor Deuc gets more touch in one evening than he’s had in years.

I get the shivers imagining the first affectionate touch that a touch starved Deucalion gets and his reaction”

oh my friggin god yes. yes yes yes yes yes.

yes.

yoooo lil ficlet with jumpy touchstarved Deucalion and slutty needy Peter, and Chris being v into dem wolves yo.

this is some kind of AU where Chris is some kind of freelance sex therapist that sometimes lets his therapy dog play because Peter is Peter. I don’t know about any backstory the three have with each other though tbh

“We’ll be having a guest tonight.” Chris comments after he got off the phone. He reaches around and curls his hand casually around Peter’s throat – first simply holding, then gently squeezing with slowly mounting pressure just because he can. He likes the thickness of Peter’s throat; the girth of it accentuated by various collars and chokers and the occasional chain whenever Chris was in the mood to show Peter off.

Peter hums in a fake surprised tone because of course he listened in on the conversation, and he can’t be assed to try and put more effort in his terrible acting.

He is distracted as it is; arching in front of Chris and putting the considerable weight of his upper body fully back against his chest as he unabashedly preens. He’s trying to get his chest fondled, and Chris obliges for a second before pinching one flat, sensitive nipple strong enough to get Peter to make a strange half-grunt-half-groan, and stop writhing against him.

He’s perfectly still, and barely breathing – he loves and hates the sharp pain of Chris’ short nails digging into his nipples; it is enough to finally get Peter’s attention in the midst of his self-indulgent lust, and make him think about something other than his own gratification for just a moment.

“You will behave,” Chris mumbles right into his ear. He gives Peter’s throat a last warning squeeze, then lets go to shove his hand into the open jeans the wolf is wearing. He encounters humid heat and the base of Peter’s half-hard, thick cock because the fucking slut couldn’t be bothered to wear underwear of course.

“You won’t be a brat tonight, and you will listen like a good boy. Do you understand me?”

There’s a beat of silence and Chris digs blunt fingertips painfully into the sensitive space between Peter’s cock and sack, since he can practically hear the wheels in Peter’s head turning – how he already is trying to work out a way to get away with being greedy; how he could potentially get the most out of the night for himself.

Peter whines and seems to even stop breathing for a moment; his body is rigid and torn between the sharp pain radiating from his chest and the dull, more insistent ache in his groin. Instead of closing his thighs, he’s spreading them further and giving Chris total reign over his body.

“Do you-”

“Yeah, yea- yes. I understand.” Chris can see the petulant moue to Peter’s mouth when he leans around to look at his face, and the arrogance in his voice is unmistakable when he mumbles: “Where’s the fun for me, then?”

Chris lets go of him and pets across the thick muscle of Peter’s belly. Cock no longer in Chris’ unfriendly grip, the rigidity of his body immediately melts and he lazily curves his hips – Chris is reasonably sure he only does it to show off the thickness of his cock rapidly filling after the rude handling.

“You get to play with him just the way I want the two of you. He’ll be so… sensitive, don’t you think?”

Peter seems to mull this over, and ultimately shrugs his shoulders in a supremely disinterested way.

“I guess so.”

He can’t fool Chris, though.

.o.

Chris doesn’t always take Peter to his appointments; most of the time he doesn’t even have them in their apartment. Peter is bad at sharing and he has a habit of wandering in when he’s supposed to be out and about. He can’t handle not being the center of attention and Chris doesn’t think there’s one person in the world that could train that out of him.

He’s an asshole and a bastard and a narcissist – but Chris can’t deny that the times where he can bring his therapy dog are the most enjoyable.

This time, however… this time will be especially interesting.

He’d never thought he’d get the pleasure of welcoming Deucalion for the special kind of service he’s providing, and he has no chance of anticipating what might happen.

The cultivated, deep voice had sounded calm – positively serene – and maybe a bit flirtatious while on the phone; but he’s reasonably sure that this particular werewolf would never have asked for an appointment if it could’ve been helped otherwise.

He’s too classy for it, Chris had thought that morning while letting Peter fuck into his hand, and, opening the door this evening to the sight of Deucalion in neat, elegant clothes and with an enigmatic grin, he has to think it again.

Deucalion never stroke him in need of anything – he seemed powerful and self-assured, even when he has to curl his fingers into the crook of Chris’ arm to get lead into the unknown apartment.

“You know Peter will be an ass the whole time?” Chris asks jovially, eyes tracking the sharp line of the wolf’s jaw, then dipping to the line of his neck. He feels like an ass for exploiting Deucalion’s blindness to shamelessly ogle him, but not enough so to actually make him stop.

“I’ve known him for quite some time, yes,” Deucalion answers with an air of almost distraction, head tilting and turning, nostrils flaring as he seems to acquaint himself with his surroundings.

Chris had seen his shudder at the close proximity of Chris’ deep, rough voice, though. He had felt Deucalion’s grip tightening slightly around his forearm, the tightness in his face more pronounced for a moment.

And suddenly Chris thought he understood what this was all about.

.o.

Peter seems to be in top form; Chris had left him in the middle of the bed, content after having been allowed to come three times, cock pink and sore looking after he had fucked his favorite fleshlight and worshiped Chris’ cock with little licks and kisses.

He’d been powered out to be mellow enough for their playtime with Deucalion – or at least so he’d thought.

There is nothing of the previous satisfied lethargy to see anywhere, now that their guest was actually standing in the room, and Chris could see Peter’s eyes darken as his pupils went wide in an instant – the look of a predator spotting prey.

Deucalion’s nostrils flare again, head tilting back and lip pulling up to bare his teeth as he scented the air. His body goes eerily still at the sound of Peter moving in a liquid, graceful movement that had him off the bed and across the room before Chris could say anything.

He watches somewhat apprehensively, suddenly – dumbly – thinking about how he never had thought about the fact that both were wolves; both were vital and strong and highly territorial.

Peter liked to pride himself on his sophistication, scoffing at Chris’ various unflattering terms for him (and loving them in a masochistic way), but in this moment there was nothing particularly human about those men.

Chris took a slow step back to give them room and observe as Peter stepped close enough to touch, mouth hovering half open and breathing warm air against the angle of Deucalion’s jaw that Chris had been admiring earlier himself.

Deucalion, for his part, kept standing still, eyes hidden behind his dark glasses and hands carefully lax at his sides after he had folded up his cane and put it away inside his jacket. He looked, for lack of a better word, vulnerable. It was almost more obscene than Peter stalking around him naked and with his pinkened cock swaying between his strong thighs.

Deucalion didn’t object to anything; let Peter inspect him and even tilted his chin up and head back when Peter’s warm breath tickled his throat.

“Oh,” Peter sighed into the tense silence, stepping closer and pressing his body against Deucalion’s clothed body. He rubbed against him like a cat in heat – slutty and needy as if he hadn’t been allowed to rub off against the edge of the bed just an hour ago. “We are going to play, aren’t we?” he positively purred, lips against Deucalion’s trembling Adam’s apple and hands shoving beneath the thin cardigan he was wearing.

“Going to let me mount you? Fuck you into the mattress like a little bitch? Gonna mount you so well, gonna-”

“Peter.”

Chris’ voice is sharp and his hand sure as he clamps it around the back of Peter’s neck, easily pulling the wolf off of their guest. Deucalion is shaking; soft tremors running through his body, chest nearly heaving with his gasping breaths. He looks pale and unsteady – swaying on the spot as he is, unmistakably angling into the direction Peter had been just seconds prior.

He whines – soft and sharp – when Chris carefully reaches out and drags fingertips along the underside of his chin, feeling the soft, vulnerable space beneath.

“Shhh,” he soothes, other hand still holding on to Peter, leashing him to the spot even though he feels like he’s going to vibrate out of his skin any second now, “I got you. Oh… this is going to be wonderful.”

.o.

Peter is over-eager like a puppy. Chris almost debates chaining him to the foot of the bed and making him watch – but can’t bring himself to do it when he sees how needy both wolves have become the moment they got to play.

Peter is obnoxious and demanding; presses his body into Deucalion’s trembling, unsure hands, and has no qualms about dragging them to all the not-so-secret places he wants to feel them at. Deucalion is… well.

He is submissive for one. Even more so than Peter ever could be. He is panting softly and open mouthed, milky eyes half-closed in nervous concentration as he lets Peter bully him around; obligingly offers his mouth for stealing, sucking kisses, and whines when Peter then promptly starts playing with his over-sensitive dick yet again, without even trying to fend the wolf off.

“You’re gorgeous, aren’t you?” Chris found himself mumbling in a crooning, low voice, fingers carding through Deucalion’s hair and pinching small, tan nipples. He could feel the heat wanting to creep into his cheeks from the inane babbling and refused to feel ashamed even when Peter looked like he was having a field day and would never have him live it down.

It was hard to feel ashamed when Deucalion was reacting so beautifully to the praise – cock flexing out a steady, sticky stream of pre-cum against his belly, looking swollen and dark with blood from nothing but Peter’s prickish teasing and Chris’ murmured praise.

“Gonna come for us? Give Peter a little treat?” He reached down and pushed a pouting Peter away so he could play with their toy himself. Deucalion’s balls were warm and tight in the cup of his hand, and the dark space behind was warm and humid with sweat – a welcoming, little space for one fingertip to tickle and explore until Deucalion was whining sharp and high, face looking painfully open and vulnerable.

He was just so sensitive everywhere while trying to desperately hold on to his dignity – and orgasm. Chris couldn’t even say for sure what it was; what made Deucalion try to hold back so much when just a loving little squeeze of his balls had his cock flex out a new stream of pre-cum; the tip swollen and flared and dark with need.

“Good boy. Such a good puppy,” Chris whispered and Deucalion’s eyes widened, mouth dropping open – and for just a second Chris thought he might have overstepped a boundary; until he realized Peter had insinuated himself again and his head, hair dark with sweat, was bowed across Deucalion’s chest, mouth latched onto a small, hard nipple to suckle and tease with a slick tongue.

“Please,” Deucalion suddenly broke out in a sob, voice low and wrecked and no longer as pleasingly cultivated as it’d been on the phone. “Let me come, please, I beg of you, please oh please oh”

Chris’ thumb rubbed soothingly across the tight skin of Deucalion’s balls, his curious finger drawing circles onto the sweat slick skin behind his balls.

“You never needed permission,” he promised, “you can come whenever you want…”

Peter’s petulant Lucky… was overshadowed by Deucalion’s more frantic, “Please let me come, please please please, I…”

He was writhing between them, narrow hips helplessly curving up, cock bouncing and smacking against his abdomen, and pulling a sticky, glistening string of pre-cum with it when it bounced up once more.

He was fucking almost shyly; aborted, little motions that were more about alleviating the pressure without knocking Chris’ hand off his genitals, than about a fantasy of fucking into someone.

His voice was broken, and the raw earnestness in his face and blindly seeking eyes was almost unraveling Chris as it were.

“You can come,” he croaked with a raw voice, “You can come. Come for me, puppy. Be a good boy, now…”

And he knew watching Deucalion come – sinewy, wiry body shaking apart and cock jerking out ropes of cum without so much as a hand on it – would not be enough. He’d have to fuck Peter; have the wolf kneel on all fours above Deucalion while Chris mounted and bred him. He’d have to fuck him because he couldn’t fuck Deucalion – not now, not like this, when he was jumpy and shy about that soothing finger in the dark space behind his balls and giving them needier and needier kisses whenever the opportunity arose to do so.

He’d need to hold back and regroup and get his head on straight, but… but god damn he couldn’t be expected to just let this sit on itself as it were.

moonlettuce
replied to your post “so I’ve been thinking a bit about watersports and bladder desperation……”

Peter agreeing that, for one day, he won’t do anything that he doesn’t have permission from Chris for. Only he never thought Chris would keep refusing him when he asks permission to go to the bathroom. It eventually gets too much, and Peter never expected to be so turned on by the humiliation he feels from wetting himself.

Anonymous said: “

What about if Peter was captured by hunters and held for hours, and when Chris arrives and saves him its just in time to see him completely lose control over his bladder. Peter would of course be mortified, especially about how good it felt, but Chris would reassure him its okay and actually hot. Maybe it starts them trying it out at home, like role-playing the big bad hunter and little wolf.”

Chris could’ve gone in there hours ago. The Bachman brothers weren’t really renown for their observation skills – which made it all the funnier that they managed to down Peter and truss him up like a pretty little package – and he’d been sitting comfortably in the branches of a tree watching the story unfold without anybody being the wiser.

The brothers were occupied with Peter and his situation and Peter was occupied… also with Peter and his situation (which wasn’t exactly news to Chris), so nobody was paying any attention to what was going on around them. The only interesting part was in fact… Peter’s situation.

Chris hadn’t been there from the beginning so it had not been too clear what exactly was going on, but it only took a few minutes to figure out what the problem was; at which point Chris decided to sit back and enjoy, because the thought of seeing Peter disgrace himself was making him strangely excited in ways he hadn’t thought possible.

“Are you puppy trained, little boy?” one of the brothers jeered in a babying voice that would have been grating in any other situation but right here right now, talking to this particular man was making it harder for Chris to properly sit on the branch he chose because he needed to spread his legs and give his cock some room to breathe in the tightness of his pants.

Peter had gone very quiet – a very promising sign indeed – and was just glowering up at them. It was too dark to properly see the color of his face, but it was strangely shiny and Chris thought Hale had to be sweating bullets by now.

It couldn’t take much longer. It just couldn’t.

There was a slight movement to the bound wolf’s hips and all three hunters zeroed in on it with glee.

“Fuck. Look, he’s starting ‘the dance’. Oh my god, I can’t believe we’re getting to see this. Oh god, can you imagine? I need to take pictures, fuck!” but he wasn’t moving and Peter had stopped immediately with the sneaky little rocking motions.

This time, Chris thought his face had really gone darker with humiliation. He could feel a drop of pre-cum tickling the tip of his dick before it got soaked up by the fabric of his underwear.

One of them bend down and seized the hem of Peter’s shirt, lifting it up over his belly despite the very audible, constant growl of their prey.

Chris let himself down from the tree, making sure to make no sound – not that anybody would have noticed him after the excited shout of “He looks fucking pregnant! What the hell did you drink, Hale? God damn…”

Chris slowly walked over – sauntered, really – as the other one lifted his foot (”C’mon I don’t wanna wait any longer.”), and the air seemed to freeze with anticipation as Peter’s eyes filled with horror and alarm as he realized what was about to happen.

Chris, too was unable to move, mouth going dry and fingers curling into helpless fists as the foot came down slowly, almost gently as it pressed against the little, hard swell on Peter’s abdomen.

There was a whine and forced panting – Peter trying to hold off against the pressure – and then mingled shouts – one of sobbing relief and anger, the other two of surprised joy, as Peter had to let go.

Chris listened to him groan as he pissed his designer jeans, eyes riveted on the dark spot quickly spreading until the fabric couldn’t soak up any more urine – and when Peter got turned on his back and had to lie uncomfortably on his bound hands, the three hunters were treated to the sight of his piss arcing up in a thick, small arc through the saturated jeans, noisily splashing down back into Peter’s lap.

Peter’s eyes were closed tight against the humiliation, teeth dug into his lower lip as he couldn’t stop what was happening; couldn’t help but piss himself like the dog he was…

…couldn’t notice Chris almost casually walking up behind the Bachman brothers and clanging their heads together as they gawked and stood, totally forgetting to take their pictures.

All that was left in the aftermath were two bodies lying unconscious on the forest floor and two men with bulging pants – because Chris couldn’t fail to notice how Peter’s cock didn’t seem as ashamed as its master seemed to be; having fattened up in the cozy warmth of the little puddle of piss in Peter’s lap.

“Bad boy, Peter,” Chris rasped and thought his grin might’ve been a little lunatic when Peter’s eyes snapped open and he stared at Chris in abject horror. “I think we’ll have to potty train you, hm?”

And to his utter delight, the bulge in Peter’s wet pants gave a promising jerk.

1/10 Slave!Peter. I think he’d have been a normal kid, not raised as subservient. The first night Chris has him, he holds up a ring gag and gives Peter an option. “Either you let me put this on you and fuck your throat, or you get punished.” Peter refuses (emphatically and with several names hurled towards Chris). Chris just sighs in disappointment, and calls in four of his men, who hold Peter down and take turns in fucking him. Afterwards, Peter’s taken back to his room.

2/10 The next day, the same thing happens. Chris gives Peter a choice, and Peter tells him to go fuck himself, so Chris calls in four different men, and they all take turns in fucking Peter as Chris watches, telling Peter that it doesn’t have to be this way, if Peter was just a good boy. After five days of this, Peter is exhausted and sore and just wants to go home, so he lets Chris put the gag on him. Chris fucks his mouth until he comes down Peter’s throat.

3/10 When Chris pulls out, Peter thinks that’s it, but Chris looks at him. “You know, since you decided you had to fight this, my men have gotten used to having a hole available for them, and I can’t punish them by taking that away. After all, you were the naughty one, not them. So here’s your next choice, Peter. They’re all going to fuck you, but you get to decide if they come down your throat or up your ass.”

4/10 Peter struggles again, the ring gag preventing his words from forming completely, but Chris gets the point. “Oh, Peter, I thought we were past this.” So, the four men hold him down and take his ass again. The next day, Chris crouches down next to Peter, as he’d held on his knees. “Maybe I was too harsh on you yesterday. I should have told you that you’re taking my men regardless. So, let’s try again.”

5/10 Chris continues. “I’m sure your ass needs a break. It’s probably open enough to fit a fist up there by now. So, tell me, Peter, will you be taking my men up your ass or down your throat?” “Throat,” Peter says quietly. Because if this is going to happen, then his throat will hurt less. “Good boy!” Chris smiles. He straps the gag into Peter’s mouth and fucks Peter’s mouth until he comes.

6/10 Chris’ men are now standing against the wall. “Go on, then, Peter,” Chris says. “Choose who you’re going to suck first.” Peter just looks at Chris, confused. “Come on, Peter. You decided you want to suck them, so choose who you’re sucking first.” Peter doesn’t move. Chris sighs, the sound full of disappointment. “Well, if you don’t want them in your mouth, then I assume you want them in your ass.”

7/10 The men move and surround Peter, holding him down yet again as they take his sore and swollen ass one by one. The next day, Peter agrees to have his mouth fucked, and after Chris has come down his throat, he motions Peter towards the men against the wall. “Now, it’s not going to be like yesterday, is it, Peter?” Peter slowly crawls over to one of them men, kneeling in front of him.

8/10 “Good boy, Peter,” Chris says. “Now, take out his cock.” Peter looks back at Chris. “Well, you decided you want to suck their cocks, Peter, so you can’t expect them to do all the work while you just sit there. Now,” Chris repeats, “take out his cock.” Peter reaches up, trying to ignore the way his hands are shaking and it takes three attempts to get the man’s jeans open. And then there’s a hard cock in front of him.

9/10 The man still doesn’t move. “Come on, Peter,” Chris says. “You wanted that cock in your mouth, so get to it.” Peter moves his head forward, but he can’t catch the head of the cock to slide inside the ring gag. “Why don’t you hold him still for you, Peter?” Chris suggests, and Peter slowly wraps his fingers around the base of the cock, holding it steady to slip into the ring gag.

10/10 Chris watches as Peter moves his head back and forth, fucking his own throat on the cock in front of him. He knew that Peter would be a perfect slave when the Hales had first approached him. All that was needed was to knock that arrogance out of him. And now Peter understands what his options are, Chris can start to train him properly.

hnnngh there was sudden delicious petopher porn in my inbox and I love it ❤

I love the fact that obviously Peter would be nothing but an exclusive pleasure slave. Of course Chris has gagged him as soon as possible because nobody wants to hear him talk – he should just look pretty and show his body off for his owner’s pleasure (and the pleasure of his visitors).

After those first rough days, his tender little ass is no longer as pretty as it was before he came into Chris’ home. It’s raw and hurting and motivates him all the more to use his mouth properly. Little tongue always out and eager to slobber over anything they hold in front of him; even if it is a leather shoe or an ass he buries his face in with nigh enthusiasm.

He gets to eat with the rest of the dogs out of a bowl, and has to learn how to keep his owner’s study clean, and by the time two months are over he’s still resentful and obviously hates everything, but he also doesn’t talk back anymore