Reluctant Mates - 21 Paranormal Romance Stories (Werewolf, Vampire, Minotaur and Monster collection) (60 page)

Always in control, Bolton was. Or, at least that’s what he always wanted me to think.

My thought process was interrupted by not one, but two cockheads shoving into my mouth. The leader and another of his minions stood in front of me, their dicks solid marble in their hands. I just couldn’t get enough of being filled, completely, on both ends. I moaned and groaned around their tips, relishing the tight, wet, stretch. My hands found a cock each and began to pump in time with the piston fucking the vamps were giving my asshole.

Dusk descended in the tent again as the flaps fell closed. In the darkness, I could see, just barely, that the group of creatures around me had grown. Six, maybe more of them had joined my side of the room as Bolton happily fucked his pair on the other. As soon as I began to realize that things were getting a bit out of control, a third vampire, thankfully smaller than the other two, crammed into my hole. That one pulled when the other two pushed. I thought I was going to split in half like a split log, but a few seconds later, I had stretched to accommodate him, and began to get attached to the feeling of my entire body straining to keep itself together.

Only vaguely aware of the activity of the rest of the vampires, I was incredibly surprised when a hot gush of cum splashed against my cheek, then another shot hit my forehead. When I opened my eyes, there were five more of them standing in front of me, yanking their pale dicks in my face.

“Drop him. He’s ours now, but we have to finish this. You three!” the leader shrieked, always sounding close to out-of-control, “Put him down, you know how this works!”

The pain of the three vampires pulling out of my rung-out hole all at once was far worse than the fucking. Not only was I suddenly empty, I wanted them back. Those big, hard dicks inside me felt so, so good. I had time for three breaths before I hit the ground and scrambled up to my knees, my hands still pumping on the leader’s cock as it waggled inches from my face.

“Ssssss...! SSssss!” The vampires hissed along with each other as streams of cum struck me, the first one on the forehead, running down into my mouth; the next one on the side of my head and all over my hair. Breaths came quick and short as vampire jizz covered every inch of my face, ran down my throat, and pooled in the corners of my eyes – but somehow, I was
into
this. When each vampire expended himself onto me, he’d slink off, back into the shadows. As the last vampire milked the juice from his cock onto my face, the elder gripped my hair and wrestled his dick back into my mouth. I sucked hard on his head, lapping at the sensitive underside with the point of my tongue, and before long, he grunted – that was a first – and filled my mouth with his pearlescent, viscous load.

He dragged me back to the post to which we’d been bound at the beginning of all this, and squeezed the last drops out of his dick before tying Bolton and I back to the post. I fell, immediately into a sated nap for several minutes before Bolton shook me awake.

“You did good, Mathis.” Bolton’s voice was solid, and gruff.

“I... uh... holy shit... I what?”

“While you were entertaining the entire camp over there,” he nodded and grinned, “I found out exactly what we needed to know.

“You what? I... uh... how?”

“Simple. As soon as you gave up control of the vamps to let them gang-bang the living shit out of you – which was very impressive, even if you didn’t mean for it to happen – I was able to coerce the two I had. Only took a second to plumb the depths of their simple little minds and find out exactly what they’re doing here.” He said as he rubbed his wrists together and frayed the rope. “Also, whenever these things get fucked, they’re barely able to hold it together. I’m surprised that long-haired one even managed to tie a real knot before he went off in his torpor.”

I was completely lost. “Okay, so, what is going on? What are we supposed to do now?” Bolton, now free, walked over to the shreds of his frat-boy costume and produced a half-smoked cigar. Lighting it, he turned back to me. “That incinerator in the middle of the camp, remember?” I nodded. “Well, only one thing makes smoke like that. Bodies. This is a disposal unit. They were hired by the anti-government forces here to come in, burn their victims and clean up so no one will know what’s going on. I expect we’ll be blowing the shit out of this place soon, but we need to report back before we do anything crazy. Even if I really, really love crazy.”

This was a side of my alpha I’d never seen before. The action hero side. I kinda liked it.

We left our clothes in a heap, made a hasty escape back to HQ while the vampires were in their sex-induced coma. Navigating jungles is surprisingly easy as a wolf. It didn’t take us any time at all to get back to base and de-brief the rest of the crew.

“So, let me get this straight,” Samson, the biggest of the Wolves, said. “You guys snuck into a vampire camp, found an incinerator, and
then
junior over there got gangbanged by the
whole
group?” Bolton laughed, “the whole group, minus to, to be fair.” Samson nodded in disbelief. “He must be a hell of a lot stronger than he looks. Not any smarter though.” They all laughed at once, and I joined in. Tomorrow was going to be dangerous bordering on suicidal – we had our orders to infiltrate and destroy the camp – so right now, we may as well laugh.

Three – Loving the Alpha

Bolton rolled over, half asleep and threw an arm over my side. Ever since I joined the Wolves, we’d been close, after the recent operation into the vampire camp, we’d been inseparable. There are a lot of reasons, but I guess the most important is that we trust each other. We’ve been through hell, and come out the other side.

Okay, that’s a little dramatic. It certainly didn’t seem like hell at the time. Puppet-mastering my own gangbang was actually pretty great. And, to be honest, being with these guys was the most fun I’d ever had in my life. We ran recon missions in the early mornings before the jungle sun finally broke through the canopy, and were usually back at camp an hour or two before noon. Didn’t have a whole lot to do after that but wrestle, play pinochle and, well, you know, fuck each other silly.

Let me bring you up to speed with the mission as it stands.

My name is Mathis. Two, almost three months ago, I was just an idealistic fresh-out-of-school doctor trying to do some good for the world. I was assigned to a particularly violent part of the Bolivian rain forest. This part of the country is rife with cartel enforcers, drug smugglers, and just general assholes. My job was to make rounds between the little villages here and there, fix up whoever got caught in crossfire, and get some medicine to the people that needed it. Well, one day I came across the wrong crowd: I got snagged by a cartel and thrown into a compound so deep in the jungle that even if I could have called for help, no one would have found me.

Except the Wolves.

After they infiltrated the complex, killed half the mopes in the place and rescued me, I started to get along with them. Originally, I was supposed to ship back to the U.S. a couple of weeks after my rescue and get a new assignment. What happened though was that they needed a doctor. See, the Wolves are a former commando unit, who were on a black ops assignment here, in Bolivia, and came across something they were never supposed to find – werewolves. Somehow, they were turned. Bolton still won’t tell me what happened, but it doesn’t much matter. Ostensibly, the Wolves deserted the military, but the reality was that they kept running missions for Uncle Sam. Missions no one else could manage.

Years of surveillance, espionage and covert action resulted in our being made aware of a cartel camp deep in the Amazon. Bolton and I were tasked with sniffing out, so to speak, who – or what – was operating there. We found out that a coven of vampires, unbelievably enough, had been hired by a Communist rebel group hoping to take over Bolivia. The vampires were their shock troops. We infiltrated and, like I said a little bit ago, coerced the information about their mission from them by letting the monsters fuck our brains out. That’s how I learned the vampires were a sort of hive-mind. When the leader was out of commission, say, with his dick in someone’s mouth, it just took a little bit of concentration and I could take over for him. Order them to do whatever I wanted. It went pretty well.

Since then, we’d just been waiting, doing whatever we could to keep occupied. The day the radio finally buzzed to life with the last part of our mission was a month to the day since we’d scoped out the vampires.

“Was that the fuckin’ radio?”

Bolton sat up next to me, rubbed his eyes and ran a hand over his close cropped hair. “What time is it?”

One of many things I picked up from the Wolves was how to verbally joust with Bolton. “You got a meeting later? We’re in the jungle. It’s, you know, dark.” That got him to chuckle a little.

“Well, let’s see what the big man wants. Maybe we can finally clip these vamps and get out of this shithole. I wouldn’t complain, that’s for sure.”

I nodded. “What if the next place is just as much of a dump?”

“It’ll be a
different
shithole anyway.” He craned his neck a little and gave me a peck behind the ear. “Outta the way, doc. I got a call to catch.”

***

“O
kay, here’s the assignment. I have a feeling someone isn’t going to like it.” Bolton fished a cigar out of one of his many shirt pockets, chomped the end and bent over one of the citronella candles he insisted on planting around the camp for a light. And yes, I said citronella. He has a mosquito thing.

“As far as Uncle Sam can tell, the Moreno regime has hired these fanged fuckers to harvest the locals. See, the farmers and all these hardy, hard-to-kill mountain and jungle types don’t much like the idea of being roped into some hare-brained Communist government, and so they fight. And they fight hard. Just last week, one of Moreno’s convoys was blown to shit by three – yeah, three – guys who share a little mountainside farm about ten klicks to the east of here. Whole caravan of drug-transporting jeeps went up in flames. I don’t know what the hell they used, but I wish I could have watched. I’m getting to hate these bastards as much as the locals do.”

I looked over at Samson, who had the most connection to this place. His grandmother, or maybe it was an aunt, had been Bolivian. The rest of them probably couldn’t have pointed out Bolivia on a map before they got here. That’s one of many remarkable things about the Wolves. As hard, as gritty and grizzled as these men were, they honestly cared about these people. When we told them about that incinerator full of local farmers we found at the camp, Samson and Andrews seemed about four seconds from going feral. Stay somewhere long enough, even the jungle, and it feels like home. Anyway, he was flexing and relaxing one of his huge fists. His jaw looked so tight he could crack steel between his teeth.

“Right.” Bolton took a long, slow draw and blew a plume smoke that hung around his head in the wet jungle air. “Samson, you’re going to run distraction.” The big man arched an eyebrow. “Sort of. You will actually be playing wrecking ball in the middle of the vampire camp. Let me back up. The situation is this: the vampires are being paid to keep the locals pacified. They’re sucking them almost dead-dry and then letting them go. That way, they’re too weak to do anything, such as blowing up jeeps full of coke, but they keep farming. Moreno later sends his cronies in to take his ‘tax’ cut, which leaves the populace up here near starving.”

Samson had a grim, toothy grin. He was still listening to Bolton, but only just. Watching him had become something of a hobby of mine. All the Wolves are big guys, or at least fit, but he’s something else. Samson looks like a mixture of a professional wrestler and a comic book character. Every article of clothing he owns, even BDUs that are baggy on everyone else, barely fit him. In human form, he’s more powerful than anyone I’ve ever known, and when he’s transformed, holy
shit
can he move some weight. I couldn’t wait to see him unleash in that camp.

“Moreno,” Bolton continued the briefing, “is planning to overthrow the current government any day now. He knows they’re weak, he has a tremendous personal army, and most of all, there’s basically no local opposition. If he acts, and he still has those pale shits with him, he wins. No contest. That’s where we come in.” He glanced around, his eyes squinting through the smoke that encircled him. “Samson, like I said, you’re going to run interference. Andrews, you and Crockett are going to secure the prisoners they’ve got – assuming any still live. Miller, you’re the contact man as always,” he nodded to the lithe, beautiful man to his right, who returned the head nod, “and Mathis, you’re in charge of... well, you have to deal with the leader.”

My breath hitched in my throat. “I – uh, I what? Any one of you would be better than...” Bolton cut me off.

“No. You’re the man they want. You know how they work, remember, you can control them. Once Samson starts wrecking house, you’re going to infiltrate the camp, find the leader and subdue him. Here’s the rub – we can’t let Moreno know his mercenary bloodsuckers have been compromised. You’re going to control that long-haired old man, and force him to order their radio man to report back, over radio, that everything is going ahead smoothly and to go ahead and attack the capital. The Government has a trap waiting to spring.”

I began to understand. “So, after the transmission is sent,” I trailed off, “Moreno attacks, gets surprised by the government’s army, and...?”

“That should pretty much be the end of the wanna-be dictator. As weak as the state military is, Moreno is weaker without the vampires. He’ll expect them to swoop in, swoosh their capes around or whatever these Draculas do, win the fight for him, and then fuck off back to Transylvania. What he won’t expect is that every last one of them will be a smoldering corpse when he rolls into La Paz. He, and his army, they’re going to walk straight into a trap set by the guys in La Paz and some of Uncle Sam’s finest.”

“Are – wait, you’re serious. You’re actually serious. Well, what are you going to do?” I looked at Bolton, my eyes relaxing.