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Chapter Text

A male voice that he definitely doesn’t recognize is talking with his Dad in the kitchen.  “I don’t want to impose on your family, Sheriff.”

“Stiles won’t mind,” Stiles ears perk up hearing this and he trips downstairs as fast as he can.

“I won’t mind what, Dad?!” he says, gripping the side of the doorframe and propelling himself in on just his socks. And wow, does he wish he had made a cooler entrance now that he gets a look at his Dad’s hot guest.

The Sheriff raises one eyebrow at him and shakes his head ruefully. “I told Derek here that we could dog-sit for him while he’s on a work trip.

“Yeah! That sounds awesome!! When is his dog coming? What is your dog’s name? Is it a specific breed? How old is it? Does it like Cheez-Its?!” the questions spill out of the boy one after the other until Stiles realizes what he is doing and claps his hands over his mouth in one big exaggerated movement.

Derek has had a really terrible, no-good, very bad day but there is something about this kid’s spunk that has him cracking a small smile. He snorts, “His name is Shadow. He’s really big and about 4 years old. We don’t know what breed he is because we found him in the woods when he was a puppy, but I think he might be a wolf-hybrid. Don’t worry though, he is well-behaved and is protective of anyone I consider a friend. He basically loves eating people food and probably wouldn’t leave you alone if you fed him Cheez-It’s.”

Derek looks at the Sheriff, “If you are SURE you don’t mind, I thought maybe I could drop him off at the station tonight so you could bring him home after your shift.” He looks back at the boy who is radiating excitement and feels a twinge of something he thought he had tamped so far down it would never come back up again. But he can’t resist, “and if you want to be in charge of making sure he has everything he needs, I’ll pay you $90 a day for watching him. But you have to take very good care of him—he’s kind of a weird dog. And he’s very smart.” The Sheriff opens his mouth to protest but Derek waves him off, saying that he is happy to pay young entrepreneurs fairly for their labor and he has more money than he needs anyway.

—————

Derek goes to Petsmart beforehand and buys a bed, toys, and a dog tag with the name “Shadow”-and his telephone number on it. He even buys some bullshit grain-free dog food (it really does smell better) with a wolf on the front and opens the top so it looks like he has been feeding out of it.  Buying himself a dog collar and leash turns out to be an issue for a few reasons—1. People will look at him weird if he tries it on for size, 2. They all seem bad quality (there are none that are just plain, thick leather) and they look they wouldn’t be comfortable, and 3. He cannot make himself wear neon blue. Why the hell do people think that overly bright colors look good on dogs? Derek hated that he is essentially going to be a kept dog for the foreseeable figure but if he has to be a dog, especially around the Sheriffs cute son, he wants to be a good looking one. Laura would call him a prima Donna if she were alive. So Derek thinks outside the box a little and before heading to the station, he drives a town over and goes to the local sex shop. It isn’t some skeevy chain and is actually very well stocked. He spends some time there flirting with a short, athletic woman before buying a collar and leash for himself. Yes, it’s meant for more hardcore BDSM, but it is good quality black leather and closer to something he would actually put on his dog if he had one.

The “dog drop-off” goes without a hitch. He drives up to the station and loads all of the dog stuff into the Sheriff’s car before driving away and parking his car under the loft. He strips and shifts into his wolf form before taking off for the station and by the time he gets there, John is standing by the cruiser waiting.

“Holy shit!” Stiles exclaims when he first sees Derek. “He’s huge!!”

“Language, Stiles,” the Sheriff reminds him. “Just because you are surprised doesn’t mean you can be crass.”  Stiles’ new friend Erica has not been a good influence on his son’s vocabulary.

“I know, Dad,” Stiles whines. The Sheriff goes to put away his service weapon and that’s when Derek decides to greet Stiles. He walks straight up to him wagging his tail softly and then shoves his face right in the boy’s crotch. Stiles yelps out of surprise and instantly tries to push him away but Derek doesn’t budge and leans in, pulling in the strong scent of frustrated boy directly from the source. He snuffs around with such intensity that Stiles stops trying to push him away, figuring the dog isn’t going to leave before he gets his fill of the smell. And Stiles is right. Derek huffs deeply and even gives the jeans Stiles is wearing a few licks on his thigh, slightly dampening the coarse material. The boy’s face is red as his scent changes from something only embarrassed to something embarrassed and curious and horny. Standing down at his crotch, Derek can almost hear his blood redirecting.

Unfortunately, he also hears the Sheriff on his way back so he sits abruptly and offers Stiles his paw. At first Stiles is a little weary about interacting with him but soon trying to find a trick Derek doesn’t know becomes the boy’s obsession.  The Sheriff laughs until he cries at the antics, mostly because he cannot believe grumpy Derek Hale is willing to play the part of a trained dog, even though Derek had explained that he does when he is in wolf form he doesn’t think or respond like a human. Nothing demonstrated this more to the Sheriff than following commands and within minutes the Sheriff had basically acclimated to having a dog and quit associating Derek with Shadow in his mind.  He doesn’t give it a second thought when Stiles asks to have the dog sleep in the room with him, but asking to have a 34 year old man sleep in the same room as his pubescent son would have elicited a starkly different response.

——-

Stiles is pretty sure that there is something wrong with Derek’s dog. He’s so smart that it is uncanny. He is wasted as a pet—he should be a service dog!  Derek was able to bring his paw down on the door lever and let himself into the backyard to go potty and when Stiles told him to lay down and stay he dropped to the ground instantly and watched with eagle eyes as Stiles put pieces of kibble on his front paws. He didn’t move a muscle until Stiles released him.

Derek noticed that every time he harmlessly behaved a command, Stiles got more and more comfortable with him. That first night, Stiles brought his dog bed into the bedroom and laid it next to his bed. He told Derek that he wasn’t allowed on the bed and Derek obeyed him—for now.

The next few days the family spent getting into a new rhythm. Derek focused on being a normal dog, which entailed a lot more tail wagging and tongue lolling than he is used to. The Sheriff works—a LOT. The boy is practically self sufficient and cooks for both of them most days. The station is sorely under-staffed and Derek soon learned that the Sheriff was mostly working evenings and nights and was home during the day, when Stiles was at school. When John is home, Derek makes sure not to draw his attention too much. He usually just pads after him room to room and then sleeps at the foot of his bed. Derek makes sure that he doesn’t seem like he understands John if he speaks directly to him. 

One day, John reads him a headline from the paper while sitting at the breakfast table, ending with “What do you think about that, Derek?”  Derek started itching his ruff vigorously, and then when John wouldn’t stop looking at him he just started loudly licking his dick. Being able to lick his own cock was definitely a plus of his wolf-form. It instantly embarrasses humans and has the bonus of feeling good, too.  Once the noise of him slobbering all over his dick became too much for John, after telling Derek to stop a few times John snapped, “Shadow, knock it off!” Derek stopped and folded his ears back like he knew he did something wrong and settled, laying down on the linoleum. John never addressed him as Derek again.

——

Stiles got home one day with energy coming out of his ears. He threw a ball for Derek and Derek watched it disappear into the distance before grabbing his tug toy and drawing Stiles into the game. Stiles wasn’t very strong and his center of gravity was too high, so Derek played gently with him at first to ease him into it. Then he started amping up, leaping into the air for the toy and crowding into Stiles’ personal space. He wasn’t being aggressive but he was definitely being a rude dog. And he wanted more.

Stiles pushed him off and Derek came back with four times the power, slamming into Stiles and tightly wrapping his front legs around Stiles’ thigh. Derek’s back hunches and his hips begin to thrust wildly, his dick rubbing up and down on Stiles’ jeans. Stiles laughs at first, telling him to get down, but Derek isn’t done yet. He hooks in his dewclaws so Stiles cannot twist out of his grip and continues jackhammering, ignoring the boy’s protests. Stiles scent is like a roller coaster (scared, turned-on, angry, humiliated, scared, horny) and Derek’s snout is right by his crotch, allowing him to drink it in. Derek humps Stiles’ leg for about a minute and a half before he is knotting the air and spraying thin jizz all over Stiles’ pant leg. As soon as he comes, Derek releases the protesting boy, walking around in a circle with his back still hunched, humping the air before flopping to the ground to lick himself, trying to get any amount of pressure on his knot. Stiles stands stock still looking at his soaked pant leg in—what? Distaste? Fascination?—before looking over at Derek again. He can see the dogs sheath scrunched down around the bottom of his shaft, revealing a pinkish/blue bulb at the base and a long penis that is much thinner than a humans ending in a lipstick-like taper. Stiles watches Derek for minutes as he continues to lick his knot, getting up and awkwardly walking a few steps before humping the air and sitting down, licking his cock again.  Once the knot goes down, Derek walks over to Stiles and licks his own spend from the boy’s jeans before turning and walking into the other room, leaving the boy there with his heart racing and his underwear sticky and more questions about his sexuality than any kid his age deserves to have.

——

About a week later, Stiles locks Derek out of his bedroom right after supper. Derek doesn’t know what he is doing but knows he wants to be a part of it. He camps outside of the door, whining and punctuating his displeasure with sharp barks. He keeps this going constantly so he knows that whatever Stiles wants to do, he is not going to get done because he won’t be able to focus completely. At the 20 minute mark Derek is starting to get bored and give himself a headache. He throws back his head and lets out the loudest, most mournful howl he has howled in the last 20 years. His ears prick up as he hears Stiles moving around in his room and he ups the ante, scratching at the door frantically. Within seconds Stiles wrenches open the door yelling at him, “Stop it, Shadow!! Bad dog!! Dad will flip out if you destroy the house!” Derek pins his ears back and tries to look contrite while bulldozing through and laying down on his dog bed.

Stiles looks upset that Derek is in his room but doesn’t try to physically make the giant dog leave. Derek curls up and waits.

“Fine, asshole,” Stiles grumbles, returning to his computer chair and spinning around so his back is to Derek. Derek sees that the page Stiles has pulled up is the AKC’s Guide to Responsible Dog Breeding. Stiles instantly clicks on Section 8 (Mating) and begins to read, quietly whispering the words to himself in an effort to help make him understand. “During breeding, the male mounts the female from the rear and clasps her midsection with his front legs. Rapid pelvic thrusts follow until penetration and ejaculation take place. After the pelvic thrusts cease, the dog and bitch will not separate for 10 to 30 minutes. Known as a tie, this results from a swollen section of the penis called the bulb-us gland-is,” Stiles sounds the unfamiliar words out. “During the tie, the male may move around until he and the bitch are positioned rear to rear. Do not try to separate the dogs during the tie because it can injure either or both animals. After some time, they will part naturally.” Stiles scent goes spicy and he continues to click on breeder websites, going into a wormhole while gathering as much information as he can.

About an hour later, Derek has almost fallen asleep. His eyes are closed and he is listening to the boy’s heavy breathing and luxuriating in the thick, oily smell of arousal that has permeated the entire room.  The tinny sound of bad quality recording equipment breaks through the silence, a woman laughing shrilly, “Look at them, he is trotting around all puffed out like he is trying to impress her!” Derek cracks one eye open only to see that Stiles is watching two dogs circle around each other on YouTube. After some posturing, the male covers the female, biting her scruff and holding on as his hips make quick jabs, finding and entering her immediately. Derek is somewhat impressed, thinking the dog must be an experienced stud if he is able to fuck into his bitch so quickly.

Stiles watches video after video and he starts shifting in his seat, his breathing more and more audible. The sounds of dogs mating coming from the speakers and Stiles’ own soft noises urge Derek to stand up softly, padding over to Stiles. His tongue flicks out and he licks the boy’s hand, which is grasping the armrest tightly. Stiles starts at the contact but then ignores him, going back to the video which is a compilation of dogs fucking.

Derek keeps licking and licking him—between his fingers, the soft skin of his arm, his bony wrist. The clean, slightly salty taste of him brings Derek alive, his bright red dicktip slowly protruding from his sheath. The compilation ends and a video of a very different nature flashes on screen, it hasn’t been flagged or removed by YouTube—yet. It shows a naked woman, down on her knees, with an enormous tan dog over her, pumping away. Stiles groans like he has been wounded and crushes the heel of his palm into his lap, giving his erection some friction. The woman isn’t anything special by her looks. She is probably in her 30’s and of average height and build. The dog, though, looks like an athlete. His hindquarters are so thick and muscular and every movement he makes screams power. The lady under him is pushing back into his thrusts, breasts swinging, vocalizing a mindless “uh...uh...uh...uh” as she is propelled forward. Her sides are scratched and red near where his paws are locked around her and there is even a small drip of blood from one of the his nails catching her a little too deep. Stiles fumbles with his shorts and finally pulls out his dick, palming it briefly before jerking it in time with the dog’s thrusts.  Derek redoubles his efforts and licks as much and as hard as he can, covering Stiles’ arm in slobber before extending his neck and flicking his tongue against Stiles’ little cockhead. Stiles wails, pushing Derek’s head out of his lap and folding over in the chair, keening as he strokes twice more and then explodes all over his own face, and time seems to stop as he stops moving except for brief moments where his entire body tenses like he is in pain.

Derek pushes his way back to the boy’s lap and instantly starts cleaning off his cock with his rough tongue. Stiles is as still as a statue but his dick twitched valiantly, spurting out one last trickle of come. Derek licks and licks and licks until the boy’s penis has softened to the point it is flopping around with the force of his licking. Stiles is keening, like the sensation is too much but he can’t bring himself to stop it. Derek shifts his focus to Stiles’ face and licks the globs of jizz from his forehead, eyebrows and cheeks. He keeps licking down his face until he gets to Stiles’ mouth, which is open, panting from his experience. Derek shoves his tongue in Stiles’ mouth before he can close it, licking as far as he can back into the boy’s throat. Instead of closing his mouth after Derek’s tongue recedes, Stiles keeps his mouth open, presenting himself for more licks. Derek sees this but isn’t done fucking with the boy, so he backs off from Stiles’ lap,  lays on the ground, and promptly begins licking his own dick.

Stiles closes his mouth, humiliated because he was depraved enough to try and make a dog French kiss him—and humiliated that the dog didn’t even seem to give him a second thought.  He watches as Derek cleans off his own dick and then stretches even further back to chew at his asshole. Stiles watches Derek really get in there, nibbling and picking at his dark, leathery anus. Derek grooms himself until the boy is hard again and then flops on his side, gives a big sigh, and goes to sleep. Stiles watches as the dog’s penis slowly retracts into its sheath and then swivels around, back to YouTube.

Chapter Text

Finally the weekend rolled around. The Sheriff was supposed to be off and had promised to take Stiles and Derek on a day hike but one of the deputies called in last minute and he ended up having to go in. “Stiles, I’m sorry buddy but you can’t go hiking in the preserve without me, you and Shadow are just going to have to stay closer to home.” Stiles smiles at his dad and nods in obedience, but his eyes are filling with tears, he had really been looking forward to the outing and spending time with his Dad.

Stiles scrubs his face with his fists and the Sheriff gives a deep sigh and pulls him in for a hug. “Maybe instead you can take Shadow to the dog park a few blocks down from the house. That way you still get to spend the day outside but in the safety of our own neighborhood.”

After the Sheriff leaves, Stiles picked up Derek’s leash from the entry way and then calls the dog to him. He attaches it to the collar (while thinking that is a pretty serious looking piece of equipment) and they slip out the door, Derek heeling perfectly with Stiles all the way to the dog park.

Since it is Saturday and almost everyone is off work, the dog park is packed. It is a big park with a lot of trees, so Stiles can’t see every dog inside, but there are a lot of different types of dogs having a blast in the park. Stiles leads Derek into entrance pen, shutting the first gate right behind them. He sternly tells Derek to “Sit” and Derek does, knowing Stiles is pretty nervous about being at the park. He wonders if it is because he is looking at the dogs differently or if it is because he is worried if Derek will come back to him and behave at the park.

As soon as Stiles opens the second gate, Derek is off like a shot. Surprised, Stiles starts calling for him, “Shadow, come!” and runs in the same direction, trying to keep up. Derek ignores him and thunders halfway across the park, stopping once to unleash a torrent of urine, spraying it all over a tree as if to claim the entire place. 

He bounds into the middle of the biggest playgroup, greeting the other dogs who instantly defer to him. Derek spends time wrestling and all the while keeps an eye on Stiles who is watching him like a hawk. Anxiety is billowing off the boy and he gasps any time that Derek tackles another dog, probably worried that he is going to attack and thinking belatedly that he shouldn’t have brought a wolf mix to a dog park. Derek makes sure that he’s not scaring the dogs too much by occasionally play-bowing and wagging his  tail. For about 20 minutes he plays with a group of three other dogs- all big, fast, and rough and tumble. It reminds him of full moons with his sisters, except his sisters actually had a chance fighting back.

The entrance gate across the park clangs and Derek perks up, seeing a gorgeous, long-legged dog with short, wavy hair. He  runs over to her and right before he gets there he catches her scent. She’s in heat. He puffs up and prances all around her before offering a bow and yipping playfully. She stands stock-still looking at him out of the side of her eye and then starts, giving him an aborted play invitation before freezing again.  He circles her again, closer this time, snuffling around her rear end and licking her swollen vulva. He feels his dick start to emerge from its sheath and his hind end gives a singular unintentional thrust. He has never fucked a real dog and this bitch smells good enough to eat, even with the true object of his affections just feet away.

“Shadow! No!” Stiles grabs for his collar but Derek ducks out from under him, skipping out of his reach. The owner for his new friend is an older, overweight man who is still walking from the entrance and Derek sees no reason to stick around. He nips at her heels to get her moving and then bounds off. She looks back at her master like she knows she shouldn’t leave him but she wants to keep flirting and eventually her curiosity about and interest in Derek wins out.

She runs after him and Stiles follows suit, running after him and yelling for him in a panicked voice. Derek leads her into the middle of a grove of trees near the furthest corner of the park. Stiles is a minute or two behind (and who knows if her owner can even make it this far off of the path) so Derek waits for him, spending his time sniffing the beautiful dog and licking at her snatch, before she moves her hips to the side and evades him. They continue this dance, the bitch making it more and more clear that she is not interested in mating, Derek making it more and more clear that he thinks they would make beautiful puppies together.

Hearing the boy approach, Derek becomes more serious and growls at the bitch to stand still. Stiles bursts through to the inner circle of the grove as Derek’s strong front legs wrap around her back end and he hunches over her. The dog snarls and tries to twist from his grip, reaching back and snapping at him.  Stiles  watches him, stunned with him stunned with his mouth open for the few crucial seconds it takes for Derek to bite a giant mouthful of the bitch’s scruff, using it to pull her back while he stabs forward.  She screams so loud her owner can probably hear it across the park. Her painful shrieks snap Stiles out of it as he watches her fight the intrusion into her body and he advances on the pair to try and get them apart. In general, Derek likes to take time and make it last when he is fucking, especially if he is having fun like this. Unfortunately he doesn’t have that luxury this time and he plows into her hard, getting off on her struggle and Stiles’ reaction to her pain. His knot inflates in record time as he pumps his hips into her and she wails below him. She trips while she is trying to spin around and bite him and ends up falling onto her chin. He holds on tightly and keeps bulldozing her, pushing her forward with his enthusiasm, driving dirt into her face.

Naturally, this is when her out-of-breath owner enters the grove, yelling at Stiles, “Your fucking dog is raping my Lucy!! Get him off!! Get him off!!” Derek privately thinks he is doing a great job getting off, but Stiles reaches out and grabs his collar,  trying to lift him off of his prize, but Derek uses all of his muscle and bulk to clamp down and grapple for control. Stiles is crying and yanking and Derek takes a bigger hold of the skin on the back of Lucy’s neck, causing her neck to flex backward and forcing her body to bend horribly, almost into a ‘U’ shape. Lucy’s owner finally gets to his dog and starts pulling her collar in the opposite  way, causing her even more pain and making her lash out and bite him three times in quick succession. The man is screaming at the top of his lungs but Stiles cannot hear anything he is saying, he can only hear the blood rushing through his ears.

Stiles starts to feel like he can’t breathe and begins getting dizzy, not able to hold onto Derek any longer as he staggers back. As soon as he lets go, his mind latches onto a thought and all of a sudden he can function again. He grabs Derek’s collar and twists it brutally, causing the leather to close around Derek’s neck and constrict his airway. If Stiles couldn’t hold on when he couldn’t breathe, maybe Derek can’t either.  Stiles uses all his force to twist the collar and it starts choking Derek out, to the point he is struggling to breathe. He drops Lucy from his jaws and lets go of her waist, using both paws to scratch wildly for his throat.

Lucy’s owner takes advantage of the opening and yanks her out from under him, dragging her away—and in the process, dragging Derek and Stiles after her.  As the fully-inflated knot pulls on pussy, her pained shrieking reaches an even higher crescendo. Stiles is kneeling on top of Derek, both hands twisted in his collar choking him and desperately yelling at Lucy’s owner to stop but he doesn’t seem to understand that he is hurting his own dog. Derek is struggling to breathe and has lost almost all his muscle strength, collapsing to the ground, his entire body with Stiles on top of him being dragged by Lucy’s pussy clenched down on his dick.

Once Derek stops moving, Stiles leaps off of him and reaches for Lucy’s tail, anything to get the man to stop forcing Lucy forward. The man looks back and starts to yell at Stiles, blood running down his arm onto Lucy’s coat. “GET THE FUCK OFF MY DOG, YOU LITTLE PRICK!” the man explodes.

Stiles swings back and full out slaps him, “Listen to me!!! They are tied!! You can’t separate them or you could permanently damage them both!!!” Stiles pushes Lucy back, closer to Derek, finally releasing the pressure on her vagina and the stretch of Derek’s dick. With the agonizing pressure release, Derek struggles to lift his head and watches Stiles, his tongue hanging out of the side of his mouth, panting.

It is a tense 20 minutes waiting for Derek’s knot to go down, punctuated by both owners making the dogs stand and trying to make them walk in opposite directions and pull them apart every 5 minutes. Finally they stop when Lucy starts preemptively shrieking when her owner grabs for her collar, anticipating the pain. Derek hurts all over, but he can’t help being pleased with himself as his seed continues to spurt into Lucy. He got Stiles to see what a strong breeder he is. He tied the prettiest dog he’s ever seen. She’s going to be fat with his pups soon.

Stiles and Lucy’s owner go round and round about whose fault it is. Although Stiles privately feels like it is Derek’s fault, he reads the other owner the riot act about bringing an intact bitch in heat to a dog park when the rules explicitly say they are disallowed while in heat because of the conflict it can cause. Intact male dogs are allowed. Lucy’s owner says something about how she is a purebred and he is going to drown any mutt puppy that she has instead of wasting time and money on them. In the end, as Derek’s spent cock slips out of Lucy’s stretched cunt and his semen drips from her onto the dirt below, Stiles and the man exchange phone numbers, with Stiles promising to come and get the puppies when they are born and bottle feed them.

Both owners leash their dogs and both dogs limp gingerly toward home.

Chapter Text

Stiles has avoided Derek for days. After a tense, uncomfortable walk back home Stiles has locked himself in his bedroom for the rest of the day.  Derek could here the kid crying into his pillow from where he was stretched out on the downstairs couch.

In turn, Derek ignored Stiles. He isn’t going to try and appease or comfort the boy when what he really wants is for Stiles to think about him mounting the bitch. By day three, it no longer sounds like Stiles’ heart is going to beat out of his chest when Derek pads by on the way to the water bowl. By day 6, Derek has started easing Stiles back into it by looking at him and very deliberately laying down and licking his protruding phallus.

At first all he smells is panic and fear (probably because Stiles is remembering the last time he used it, even Derek has to admit that if he hadn’t been so incredibly into it, his assault on Lucy would have been traumatic), but Stiles doesn’t leave the kitchen where he is getting a glass of water. The boy stands there, awkwardly watching him and slowly hardening in his jeans. They are alone and the Sheriff won’t be back until the next morning.  Derek takes the opportunity and licks and licks and licks his penis, the taste of his own skin and salt oddly comforting. He nibbles at it a little and then licks more firmly until he can feel his knot pop. A sharp intake of breath from the corner tells him that Stiles is still watching. He stops and sniffs his tip before clenching down and splattering come all over his nose and the floor. Stiles makes a broken sound and Derek looks up at him, licking his chops and getting most of the semen off of his nose. He stands up and walks toward Stiles, giving a few awkward air humps on the way (he can’t help it, the prolonged orgasm just feels so damn good).

Stiles watches the giant black dog as he crosses the kitchen and firmly presses his nose into Stiles’ erection. The dog just leaves his nose smushed there for a few seconds before he starts licking the jean material directly over Stiles’ cockhead enthusiastically. The boy’s entire body tenses up and he makes a little pained noise and moves away uncomfortably with each lick, his nerves over sensitive and tender. Derek stops licking and waits, watching as the boy’s hips slowly can’t out toward him, thighs opening, trying to non-verbally entice him to continue the onslaught.  Slutty behavior like that needs to be rewarded, so Derek starts back up only to be almost immediately interrupted by Stiles’ shaky hands reaching down and cupping the soaked jean material at his crotch. The hand slides slowly back up to his waistband and then becomes almost frantic as the boy decides to pull his pants down.

Stiles is standing in his kitchen in the middle of the day with his pants around his ankles. The pale, fuzzy expanses of his legs and thighs draw Derek’s gaze up to the boy’s sopping lap, translucent tighty whities covering his persistently interested prick. Stiles shoves his underwear down too, now standing at attention with his dick perpendicular to his body, an inch away from the jizz drying on the top of Derek’s nose. For a moment, Derek considers the embarrassment it would cause the boy for him to walk away, uninterested at this point. But Derek has been wanting to taste the boy directly from the source for years and cannot make himself wait any longer. He laps hungrily at Stiles, causing the boy’s cock to bob up and down with the force. Stiles screws his entire face up, trying to last, but he blows his load like a shaken bottle of champagne, all over Derek’s snout. The big black dog licks come off of the twitching boy until he sinks to the floor on shaky knees.  “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” the boy repeats, either in a mental crisis or because he still feels so good from molesting a helpless dog.

Derek circles around and lays down next to him, shifting his weight onto his back a little to solicit a belly rub. His knot is still a fat pearlescent ball at the base of his exposed dick and he tilts more toward the boy, splaying his hind legs open. His movements help guide the boy’s hand down the slope of his rib cage and soon his fingers are lightly grazing over the thin skin around his sheath, dipping down into the crease between his abdomen and thigh. Derek stretches his back legs as straight as they will go and watches the boys expression as he contemplates getting his hands on that plump knot for the first time. Stiles’ thin fingers skate on his lower abdomen, almost drawing a bullseye around his knot. It goes on for minutes and Derek stays rock hard, but still, wanting to know where the kid will take this. And it just feels so damn good.

The fingers deviate from their path (tracing smaller and smaller concentric circles around his erection) and slip down, running over a trail of hair leading down before firmly cupping his balls. Derek lets out a deep, tortured groan as the boy moves the dog’s scrotum around in his hands, getting the heft of it. The boy’s teasing is killing him. Stiles touches the dog’s fat balls with wonder, gripping the relatively thin skin on the surface and pulling it gently away from the testicles before letting it slide slowly back into place.  Stiles always thought that the balls would be completely round, but Derek’s are oval-shaped and even kind of textured near the top. One testicle takes up his entire hand and he still cannot completely close his fingers around it.

He drags his finger up, tracing  the seam between the testicles all the way up to Derek’s knot. Derek is dying for him to touch it but keeps laying there passively, almost as if he is asleep. His entire dick is on alert, desperate for some direct attention and it jerks of its own volition when Stiles finally brings his hand down on Derek’s knot. He holds the ball of flesh in his palm, not unlike how he handled Derek’s testicles. Derek’s dick twitches more and more as Stiles’ grip increases, finally giving the dog exactly what he needs. Thick come bubbles out of the dog’s penis and oozes onto his belly and down his sides. Derek shouldn’t have much left but Stiles touching his knot is going to make him release every bit of it.  Derek trembles through his extended orgasm before flopping his head back on the ground and giving a giant satisfied sigh.

Stiles cards his fingers through the thick hair on Derek’s chest for a few minutes as his heart rate comes back down and he begins to think more clearly. His face loses all of its previously flushed coloring as his imagination takes hold and he realizes that what he did was against the law. And his dad is the Sheriff and always knows if a crime has been committed. His anxiety leads him to this conclusion and he wonders if his dad is going to come home and arrest him.

Chapter Text

Stiles doesn’t get arrested when his dad gets home. His dad hugs him as usual and Stiles tries not to think about his hand holding a dog cock when it touches his dad’s back. They sit down and eat together with Stiles sweating bullets the entire time, for absolutely no reason. Stiles has to remind himself that it isn’t like people can look at you and tell that you molest dogs (was it molesting? If Shadow liked it?). John is so tired he doesn’t seem to even notice Stiles’ shifty behavior.

Derek slips under the table and noses one of Stiles’s knobby knees out of the way, slipping between his legs. He wastes no time lapping at Stiles’ crotch, eliciting a startled jump from the boy, who jerks with enough force that Derek’s head hits the top of the table with a clack .

John looks up from his plate, “You okay kid? That sounded like it hurt.”

Stiles grimaces, reaching under the table and shoving the dog out from under it and then boxing him out with his legs. “Shadow is just getting in the way.” Derek gives up for the time being and lays down on the kitchen floor with a long-suffering huff.

They eat in silence for a while before the Sheriff side-eyes Stiles guiltily. “Son, I know I said that you could go to Boyd’s birthday party, but I think that someone should be home with Shadow tomorrow and I have to go in to work again.” He cuts up his broccoli with more concentration than strictly necessary to avoid the look of disappointment from his son. He knows that Stiles has had a hard time making friends in school and that Boyd is his closest friend, even though they never spend any time together outside of school. “I am worried that Shadow will destroy something if he’s left home alone—don’t think I haven’t seen the scratches he left on your door.”

Stiles’ eyes well up with tears and he hastily blinks them away. He answers while fighting for his voice to remain even. “That’s okay, Dad. I didn’t really want to go anyway.” It’s even kind of the truth. Boyd is the only boy that he would have known there, since Stiles is a grade below and only knows Boyd because they share an Art class. He knows that Boyd is so chill that he is friends with all types of people—from hyperactive Stiles to handsome and mature Danny to douchebag and bully extraordinarie, Jackson. He had been both excited and terrified about the party since he received the sleepover invitation, because he was definitely the biggest loser that was invited.

Seeing Stiles put on a brave face breaks John’s heart in two. They finish dinner and while Stiles is doing the dishes (he pointedly does NOT see that Shadow functions as a prerinse cycle), John flips through his address book and makes a phone call.

Stiles morosely finishes up the dishes just as John comes back into the room. “Thank you so much, Terrance. I really appreciate it. Shadow won’t be a problem. He follows Stiles’ every command.” After hanging up he smiles over at Stiles, “Okay, I talked to Mr. Boyd and he said that as long as you take care of Shadow, he can go to the sleepover too.”

All of a sudden, Stiles goes from being disappointed to over the moon, flinging himself at his Dad and hugging him around the neck. His mind goes a mile a minute as he realizes that he just went from the biggest loser at the party to the kid WHO HAS A BADASS LOOKING DOG that does anything he says. This could change everything for him at school. All of Boyd’s cool friends might really respect him and become his friends!  This could be his ticket into the popular crowd! He squeals and thanks his dad again before running upstairs to pack for the next night

————-

School on Friday goes by SO SLOWLY. Stiles narrowly misses getting detention four times and bolts out of school as soon as the bell rings. He runs home because his Dad only has a 30 minute window to take him to Boyd’s house before getting to work. He flies into the house and up the stairs, throwing his school bag onto his desk and picking up his overnight duffel bag and his pillow. He runs back downstairs and shovels a bowl of Fruity Pebbles into his mouth as his Dad trundles down the stairs in his work uniform.

The drive doesn’t take long, but Stiles notices that the houses get nicer and nicer on the way to Boyd’s place. Mrs. Boyd is a lawyer and their house has big white pillars in the front that scream “rich” so she is probably a successful one. Walking with Shadow on leash into the foyer, Stiles is relieved that he groomed Shadow last night so he won’t shed on all of their nice furniture.  Mr. and Mrs. Boyd welcome him while fawning over Shadow and yelling upstairs for “Vernon” to come downstairs.  Stiles smirks at Boyd’s real name being used, his parents and teachers must be the only ones allowed. Shadow is being so sweet with the Boyds. His body language is so loose and happy and his tail doesn’t stop wagging.

———

It turns out that the only other people at to Boyd’s birthday sleepover besides him are Jackson, Danny, and Boyd’s older brother, Mikhail, who came back from college for the weekend to hang out. Stiles is incredibly nervous and thinks over everything three times before he does it to make sure that he will seem ‘cool.’ It doesn’t help that Mikhail is super hot and seems really nice. He probably has girls following him around like lost puppies at Berkeley. Stiles fumbles for words around him and finds himself twisting his fingers in Shadows fur to try and stay calm. Shadow was a big hit—Danny couldn’t stop talking about how beautiful he was and even Jackson looked impressed that Shadow did everything that Stiles commanded. Mikhail watched the dog closely but Stiles couldn’t tell what Boyd’s brother was thinking. Anytime  he accidentally caught Mikhail’s eyes (he isn’t great at looking gorgeous people in the eyes, okay?!), Mikhail just smiled and refocused on the group conversation.

Mr. and Mrs. Boyd had taken the opportunity (apparently they think Mikhail is babysitting the boys) to go to the opera in Sacramento, which was an hour and a half away. They wouldn’t be home until late and as soon as they had stepped out the boys sequestered themselves in the upstairs family room with tons of snacks. Mikhail was sitting on the couch petting Shadow, watching Boyd and Jackson duke it out with Mortal Combat. Danny was fucking around on his phone and Stiles was trying to act invested in the game so they didn’t notice that he didn’t belong and send him home for not being cool enough. After a while Danny got bored of listening to Jackson snark at Boyd and suggested that they play Truth or Dare. There is almost no other game that Stiles would like to play less, but when everyone else was excited he wasn’t going to be the killjoy. It would be fine. Probably.

“Okay, Okay,” Danny said, getting the group’s attention, “since I thought of it I get to go first.” He looks over at his best friend, eyes gleaming, “Jackson, truth or dare?!” Danny knows that Jackson has enough stuff he is trying to hide that he would never pick Truth. Jackson proves him right and Danny dares him to take off his shirt and do 50 Burpees. Jackson rolls his eyes, used to being objectified and strips off his shirt and gets to work. Stiles, Mikhail, and Danny watch slack-jawed as the amount of hard-ons in the room goes from zero to three. This is why Stiles didn’t want to play, Truth or Dare always gets weirdly sexual really quickly.

The game continues down the same vein, with Jackson asking Boyd and Boyd choosing Truth (“Who is your favorite porn star?” “Ana Foxxx.”) and Boyd picking his brother, who picks Dare because he knows Boyd will ask him the truth about the 2011 cucumber incident and he isn’t ready to come clean). Boyd dares Mikhail to bench press Stiles and they all (Shadow included) go down to the personal gym on the lower level to watch it happen. Mikhail is built and easily bench presses Stiles for three sets of 20 reps each. Every time Mikhail brings Stiles down to his chest, Shadow wags his tail and licks Stiles face, causing everyone else to laugh. At the end of it—between Boyd’s brother and Shadow—Stiles is so hard he could cut diamonds (one of Mikhail’s hands had been placed very high up on his thigh and he has a strength kink, okay??!?). He has to make the trek back up to the family room look casual while pushing Shadow’s nose away from his crotch. He sits down with a pillow in his lap while everyone else obliviously sits back in their circle. Well, maybe not everyone is oblivious. Stiles sees Mikhail looking at him and his entire face burns with warring attraction and shame, hoping he didn’t see Shadow trying to get a little fresh.

Mikhail claps his hands loudly to get their attention and when he has it, flexes his ripped biceps cockily smiling at the skinnier boys. “You should all know not to question my abilities by now! Okay, Stiles, Truth or Dare?”

Stiles swallows. He really doesn’t want to do Truth but if he picks Dare, there is a 98% chance it will involve standing and then everyone will notice his embarrassing boner for sure. “Truth,” he grits out, silently pleading for Mikhail to be merciful.

That plea goes unanswered when Mikhail grins like a shark and says “Are you a virgin?”

Stiles’ heartrate skyrockets and his mouth goes so dry he has trouble swallowing. Everything seems like it is going really slow, like it could all be a bad dream. Maybe Mikhail didn’t really ask that? He stammers, “What?” hoping that he misheard and Mikhail actually asked him if he was a surgeon or something equally as plausible.

Mikhail leans forward.  “Are you a virgin? Have you had sexual intercourse with a girl...or a guy?” The way he asks it makes it obvious he thinks he already knows the answer but is going to make Stiles admit it. And fuck if Stiles is going to do that, not with Jackson there because Jackson will make sure he never hears the end of it and that everyone at school knows that he is a giant loser.

“No. I’ve had sex.” Stiles concentrates on keeping his face nonchalant and neutral like it is no big deal and OF COURSE he has had sex. He remembers that his Dad told him that liars usually over embellish stuff so he doesn’t give any supporting details. The entire room is looking at him with unchecked skepticism that stretches on long enough that he thinks that he is going to get away with it because if they were going to call bullshit they would have already done it by—-

“BULLSHIT!” Jackson cries, pointing at Stiles’ face. “I know him and have seen him use that face on teachers—it’s his lying face!! Plus who would he have slept with?!” Stiles can tell that Jackson smells blood in the water and isn’t going to leave this alone. “Who did you sleep with?” Even Boyd looks over to Stiles for an answer.

“I am not telling you who I had sex with! That isn’t part of the game. You asked me a question and I told you the truth!” Stiles knows he is done for but can’t stop from doubling down on the lie.

“Was it a boy or a girl you slept with, Stiles?” Mikhail’s question is asked quietly, reasonably, and for some reason that makes Stiles’ mind goes blank. He can’t even get out an answer and all at once all of the other guys start laughing and hollering about how he is a virgin and has to admit it. Mikhail again asked quietly, “Do you want to be one?”

“No!” Stiles shouts at the group. “No I don’t want to be one but I am a virgin.” Stiles fists his hand in Shadow’s fur, trying to swallow a panic attack. He’s never felt so humiliated in his life.

The group talks about how he has to get a penalty because he fucking lied during Truth or Dare. Stiles mentally disconnects as a defense mechanism when the group agrees that Jackson gets to pick it because he is the one who started the game. There is a lot of talking and whispering back and forth before Jackson excitedly says, “Okay, since Stiles lied and said he wasn’t a virgin, his punishment is to make his ‘Truth’ come true. He and a volunteer from this group are coming to come with me into the bedroom and do everything I say.” Jackson says it like it is a foregone conclusion that Stiles will be obeying.

Stiles’ entire body is stiff as a board out of anxiety at the idea that his long-time bully Jackson will be the one directing him how to lose his virginity. It feels like a sentence that has been passed that he has no way to appeal or fight, not if he ever wants to walk down the halls of school without getting mercilessly teased again. He doesn’t say anything against doing the penalty because he doesn’t want to be seen as the chickenshit whiner who didn’t want to have sex.

Jackson continues, “Mikhail, do you want in?” He makes a vulgar hand signal, looping his thumb and forefinger on one end and then thrusting his other pointer finger through it in the universally crude hand sign for penetrative sex.

Mikhail is the first one who really looks at Stiles for permission, and Stiles thinks that it could be worse than to lose his v-card to his friends super hot, consent-asking older brother. Stiles nods his head and Mikhail says he is game. The three make their way back into the wing that holds the bedrooms and Mikhail steers them toward his. They all enter and then Mikhail laughs and waits to close the door until after Shadow is inside. “He follows you everywhere, man. He’d be impossible to keep out.”

Jackson orders Stiles to strip, so he turns away and slowly starts taking off his clothes—and misses Mikhail logging into his laptop and moving it so the camera is facing the bed before making the screen go blank. But Jackson doesn’t. “Ok Stiles, get on the bed,” he orders.

Chapter Text

Stiles stands at the corner of the bed, beet red, the flush extending from his cheeks to his collarbone. He is cupping himself like that will give him any modicum of privacy. Jackson gestures to the bed and tells him to lay facedown. Stiles hesitantly crawls onto the bedspread and stretches out, facing away from Mikhail and Jackson and covering over his eyes in his embarrassment. His dick is completely on board and he’s not sure what that says about him. Losing his virginity has been the main topic of his fantasies, but he always thought he would do it in a safe space with someone he trusted. Not being directed by his biggest bully with an older man he just met.

“Spread your legs as wide as you can,” Jackson commands. Stiles expects to hear Mikhail taking off his clothes but it is silent and he wonders if Mikhail isn’t even going to bother. He squeezes his eyes shut and tunes out when Jackson says that he is going to be prepared.

Mikhail walks to the edge of the bed and leans over, running his hand softly up Stiles’ leg to his inner thigh. Just before he gets to Stiles’ ass, Shadow softly hops onto the bed between his legs and nudges his cheeks apart, licking his tiny, incredibly tight hole.  Mikhail and Jackson both start in surprise and cannot believe Stiles is not freaking out right now. Instead he makes a  gaspy little noise and cants his hips up and out, spreading his cheeks to allow the dog more access. And that is when they realize that he doesn’t know.

Jackson and Mikhail lock eyes and and have a moment where they decide what to do. They could put a stop to this whole fucked up thing, potentially without Stiles ever knowing and saving him soul-crushing amounts of embarrassment. Or....not. Both Jackson and Mikhail are hard at the sight of the small boy being eaten out by a giant dog. And Shadow is really going at it, too. He is silent and the rest of his body is not touching Stiles, so he can’t feel the dog’s fur.  Mikhail raises his eyebrows at Jackson and reaches around Shadow to put both of his hands on Stiles’ buttcheeks and spread them as wide as they will go, giving himself, Jackson, and the camera a great view of Stiles’ hole as it flutters and relaxes under Shadow’s insistent laving.  Jackson can barely control his laughter and asks Stiles “How do you like that? You like his tongue in your dirty ass, Stiles?” Stiles stops undulating when Jackson’s voice reminds him that he hadn’t even cleaned himself and now Mikhail’s tongue is in his ass! God, he hopes that Mikhail isn’t tasting his shit right now. He squeezes his eyes more tightly closed in an effort not to cry. He tries to clench shut but Mikhail’s strong hands keep him spread apart and he gets a heavy, stinging slap on his ass to remind him to stay open.

Shadows face pops up from between Stiles’ legs abruptly at the noise and both of the other boys tense, not wanting their cruel game to be done so quickly.  Mikhail improvises, “Yeah, I can tell you like that Stiles. Shoving your ass back onto my face.” Although what he currently has on video is amazing and he will be whacking off to it for years, he wants more and Stiles probably needs to be less self-conscious to give them a great show. “You are so fucking hot like this, Stiles. Don’t hold your noises in, baby. I want to hear you.” He takes advantage of the dog’s tongue being gone to shove one finger abruptly into Stiles’ asshole. Even though the dog has been licking him for a good 5 minutes, the inside of Stiles is still fairly dry and there is quite a bit of drag to get his finger in. It was probably quite painful, according to Stiles’ cry into the sheets. The dog licks beside his finger as it roughly pumps in and out before running down to the boy’s little balls, where Shadow licks and licks and licks, getting Stiles hunching into the mattress in rhythm with Mikhail’s finger before the dog begins to nibble on the delicate skin there with his front incisors. Shadow pinches small portions of the skin in quick succession with his front teeth, almost like when a dog is grooming themselves for fleas. It hurts but isn’t a sharp enough pain for Stiles to overtly object, although he does try to squirm away before Mikhail moves his other hand to the small of Stiles’ back to hold him down before unceremoniously forcing a second finger in.

Stiles has a lot of mixed emotions about how losing his virginity is feeling. On the one hand—the main hand—it really hurts. The soreness and occasional sharp stabbing pain from Mikhail’s dry fingers are keeping him soft and he is worried about tearing and bleeding. On the other hand, being shoved face-down and taken without regard to his objections...is kind of hot.  In the end, when the pressure in his ass increases so much that Stiles assumes Mikhail is putting another finger in, he breaks, gasping for lube.

Jackson rummages through the nightstand at the head of the bed and tossed the nearly empty bottle to Mikhail. “Damn, Stilinski, I was wondering how long he could finger you dry for. You must be a complete pain slut if it took until four fingers. Either that or your asshole is extremely loose for a virgin,” Jackson says cruelly.  Stiles can’t believe that he has four fingers inside of him and is kind of embarrassed that he lost track and couldn’t tell how many Mikhail was using.  Stiles doesn’t even think that Jackson would lie about something like that and in actuality, his asshole is only stretched to three fingers.

Mikhail pulls his hand out of Stiles ass slowly, watching the walls of his rectum try to hold onto his fingers. Shadow again licks at Stiles’ asshole, but this time he licks into the loosened furl, his tongue easily able to wiggle inside. Mikhail slaps Stiles ass again, hard, and Shadows stops lapping and looks at him incredulously, licking his chops. Mikhail ignores the dog and aims, squeezing cold lube past the small gape of Stiles’ hole, directly into his rectum. The thin boy jolts with surprise and again has to be held down, this time Jackson climbs on the bed and sits on Stiles’ back, using all of his weight to press his naked schoolmate into the bed. “Hold STILL you slutty fucker. Stop being so damn picky. First you don’t want lube, then you do want lube, then the lube is too cold. Stop being such a pansy ass faggot.” The irony of being so derogatory while in the middle of orchestrating and directing gay sex is not lost on Jackson, but he knows that words can hurt people and wants Stiles as wounded and confused and horny as possible for what is coming next.

Mikhail pushes four fingers inside of Stiles and the boy can’t stop tears rolling down his face. Jackson laughs, “God you are so loose. I don’t think you understand how used up you look, even as a virgin. It’s like throwing a toy train down the tracks into a tunnel. It basically echos in there!” Jackson reaches around and forces his finger between Stiles’ teeth and his lip, fish-hooking him. “I bet you would let anything in there, wouldn’t you. You would fuck Mr. Harris or hell, even Alison’s grandpa.” Stiles eyes are wide and he shakes his head furiously, almost reflexively, his mouth stretched by Jackson’s finger. Jackson doesn’t like how it looks with only one cheek stretched, so he brings his other hand around to Stiles’ other side and forces his other finger in, pulling his cheeks apart in a cruel approximation of a smile.

“I bet you would suck on his wrinkly old ballsack and say ‘Thank you, Mr. Argent’ and flutter your eyes at him.” While Jackson is running his mouth, Mikhail is helping get Shadow into position. It is a little difficult because he has to arrange the dog so that none of his fur is touching Stiles’ sides or thighs. Shadow is incredibly patient and lets Mikhail pick up and manipulate each of his feet into position. Jackson glances over his shoulder and gapes, watching Shadow’s huge cock slowly emerge from his sheath. The tip of it is deep purple and it is pointed, covered in thin veins. It looks like something out of a horror movie. It looks like it is about twice as big as all of Mikhail’s fingers and obviously has heft as it swings back and forth as Shadow starts to slowly bump the air. Mikhail pushes down on Shadow’s hips so he gets lower, and then reaches out and aims the dogs dick at his little brother’s friend’s virgin hole.

“I bet you have thought about your own dad fucking you.” Stiles starts really struggling, repeating the word ‘no’ over and over again as he tried to throw the heavier boy off of his back. Mikhail takes advantage of one moment of stillness to push down hard one more time to bring his dick right to the boys pucker and then pushes the dog’s penis in Stile’s ass by pushing down decisively on the dog’s butt.  From there, Shadow takes over, forcing his cock as far in as it can go. Stiles shrieks shrilly over and over again, not being able to form words anymore as he writhes on Shadow’s fat dick. It only takes a few more shoves until Shadow’s heavy,!dangling balls are smacking his ass with every thrust.

“I bet you can’t stop looking at his package while he is in uniform. I bet you would jump at the chance for him to bend you—his own son—over his cop car,” Jackson continues Stiles’ sounds get higher and higher pitched and he keeps thrashing but it is no use. “I bet you think about your dad bringing home a K-9 from the station and how you could convince it to have sex with you. Do you think your Daddy would want you if he saw a dog’s cock up your ass?!” Jackson’s voice comes out like venom as Shadow’s thrusts continue to get faster and faster, “I bet you would fucking love it. Are you a dirty dog fucker, Stiles?” Jackson sneers as he repeats the question. “I said, are you a dirty dog fucker, Stiles?”

“No!!,” Stiles wails, the word still obscured by Jackson’s fingers hooked in his mouth. “No!” Mikhail has stepped back from the bed so he can take in the whole tableu—Jackson sitting on top of and torturing a naked Stiles, whose lower half is completely obscured by the giant black dog who is jamming his penis into Stile’s hole at a punishing rate. He fishes his cellphone out of his pocket and starts to film. He doesn’t want to have this fuck in only one angle and he gets close so he can see the dog’s red dick disappearing between the boy’s lily white cheeks.

Jackson pulls one finger from Stiles’ mouth and slaps him across the face, hard. “I know you are! Stiles admit it! You’re a dirty dog fucker!” Stiles continues to deny he is a dirty dog fucker, snot and tears running down his face. His heart is racing and he feels like he is close to a panic attack, with Jackson screaming at him and Mikhail raping his ass. Jackson slaps him again, keeping the pressure on. “I’m not going to stop until you tel me how much you want dog cock, Stiles. Just admit it! Slimy red rockets get you hot!” He slaps him again and Stiles’ accidentally bites his tongue. Stiles breaks, not knowing how much more he can take and knowing Jackson won’t stop until he gets what he wants. Jackson’s always been an entitled prick that way.  “Tell me!” Jackson demands one more time.

The pitch of Stiles’ voice rises and falls as the dick inside him pulls out and pushes back in. “Okay, I want it!” Jackson waits for him to continue. “You win, Jackson, you’re right I want a big doggie dick in my ass! It’s all I think about!” Stiles knows as soon as he has said it that it is true, but Jackson will never know. Jackson crows with laughter and the quaking of the bed slows and stills as Shadow stops thrusting. His knot is enlarging and although Stiles can feel increased pressure in his ass, he thinks it’s because Mikhail has slid a finger inside, next to his dick.

“Well Stiles, today is your lucky day,” Jackson says as Mikhail steps in front of Stiles holding his phone up, filming Stiles’ face. Jackson slides off of his back, laughing. Stiles stares at them unblinking for a few seconds not understanding why Mikhail would have his phone out before realizing that the pounding his ass had been taking has started back up. Just as Stiles whips his head around and sees Shadow, the dog grabs his waist with his massive forelegs and pulls Stiles back so he is fully seated on Shadow’s fat knot. The boy howls and scrambles, trying to get away from the dog but Mikhail and Jackson each grab an arm and keep him face down on the bed. Shadow pumps rope after rope of come into Stiles’ hungry ass as the boy cries hysterically to Jackson and Mikhail. He is probably trying to say something but all of the words are jumbled together and his breath is coming too quickly to understand. Stiles descends into a full blown anxiety attack, but Shadow still doesn’t stop. Shadow doesn’t stop until his knot goes down, much after Stiles has blacked out due to lack of oxygen and  panic. The dog pulls his big dick out of the boy and then jumps off of the bed. He pads over to the door and paws at it, prompting Mikhail to get up and open the door. Shadow slips out of the opening, leaving the two boys contemplating the unconscious form of Stiles Stilinski.

Chapter Text

After Stiles called his Dad to pick him up from Boyd’s house, sobbing, the Sheriff didn’t know what to do. Stiles claims that he got anxious because he forgot his pillow and knew he wasn’t going to be able to sleep. When he pulled into the neighborhood he could see Stiles out on the front lawn, collapsed into a heap with his stuff and Shadow sitting off to the side, looking worried.

Now the boy has locked himself in his room and gasps for breath can be heard between despondent sobs. The Sheriff sits outside Stiles’ room with Shadow laying next to him, head on his lap. John pets the dog slowly as his heart twists. He wish he knew what Stiles was going through so he could help him.

———————————-

Stiles wakes up bleary and disoriented. It’s dark and the time on his phone reads 2:57am. He’s uncomfortable because he fell asleep in his jeans and he has tear tracks on his face, making the skin around his eyes feel stiff. His eyes hurt and he feels wrung out like an old terry cloth rag.  He can barely think about the last 24 hours without feeling like he is going to have a panic attack, but his body is so tired that it can’t get the adrenaline through to push his body over the edge. The party was a disaster. He wants to be mad (and is, a little) but overall he just feels like a fool. He can’t believe he fell for Jackson’s bait. He can’t believe that he had been ready to give up his virginity to a stranger when he had been told how special it was his entire life. He can’t believe he trusted Jackson.

His life is ruined. He didn’t ask what Mikhail and Jackson are going to do with the recording, but he knows it’s there and that Jackson probably wants the entire world to see it. His dad is going to have to arrest him and take him to prison for animal abuse and child pornography. He can imagine the disappointment on his Dad’s face when he realizes that Stiles has been sinning with Derek’s dog.  Stiles isn’t even religious—his family never really had been—but Melissa McCall has taken him to Mass sometimes and he knows that he will never have a chance of seeing his mother in heaven. Not after fornicating with a beast.  That thought and the idea that he will have to see everyone at school on Monday and that everyone will KNOW makes his stomach drop further.

He cannot show up to first period with Boyd and get called a dog slut. He can never go to school or look anyone in the face ever again. His world is crumbling down around him as he thinks of everyone Jackson could show the video to. He has never felt so utterly hopeless before and it terrifies him.

Even though he hadn’t wanted to get fucked by a dog, it happened. Stiles hasn’t been able to bring himself to acknowledge Shadow and hasn’t touched the dog since, despite the ‘kicked puppy’ look he has shot Stiles. The fact is, Shadow had raped him like he had raped the dog at the dog park. And he is worried that Shadow will try to rape him again.   Out of everyone involved in this mess, though, Stiles is the least mad at Shadow. He is a dog that is ruled by instincts, and he is also very obedient. It wasn’t his fault, he hadn’t initiated it, and he had been following commands made by humans. Realizing this, Stiles knows that it isn’t fair for him to hold the incident against Shadow, as he was probably as unwilling a participant as Stiles. There were two victims and Stiles shouldn’t punish Shadow for what he was forced to do.

Deciding that, Stiles creeps to the door and opens it. Like he suspected, Shadow is lying down guarding the entrance to his door and looks at him hopefully. “Come on boy,” Stiles whispers quietly, not wanting to disturb his father’s sleep. Stiles sits on his bed and calls Shadow to the side of the bed, draping his hand over the mattress to pet the top of the dogs head. Shadow’s tail wags softly and he licks at Stiles’ fingers, making the boy laugh. Maybe things won’t be so bad after all. Maybe Jackson won’t show anyone. Not too long after letting Shadow in his room, Stiles slips into a deep, dreamless sleep. It’s true what they say, dogs really can help you relax.

——————

The next several weeks are quiet—eerily so. Stiles passes through life waiting for the other shoe to drop. But it doesn’t. He and Shadow are friends again and he was right—the only reason Shadow did what he did is because he is a well-mannered dog that obeys commands. Jackson treats him like normal at school—as if nothing happened. His dad no longer seems freaked out and has started taking night shifts again. Stiles hasn’t seen Mikhail, but Boyd is treating him the same as he always has. It’s almost like it didn’t happen.

But it did.

————-

Stiles is tooling around on the internet one night (he hasn’t looked up dog porn since the sleepover) when he gets a notification on his little-used Instagram account.  He opened it with his throw-away email address and usually just takes pictures of stuff he finds entertaining—graffiti in the men’s room, a flower on his walk home from school, a too-close selfie of him laying on top of Shadow at the park, kids in his neighborhood playing hopscotch. He has a new follower who sent him a DM.

soldiersAg99: hey i just wanted to tell you you are really talented. i love your work.

Stiles is flattered, but a little confused. He goes onto his page and looks at the photos he’s posted over the last few months.  None of them really look like anything special.  But the follower had said he was really talented...and if he looks hard, he can see how someone who likes art might appreciate his photographs. He just snapped them quickly but he thinks that there must be something about the composition and angle that sets him apart from all of the other instagrammers. Or maybe this person just says that to everyone.

Stiles navigates over to their page (he wonders what the handle means) and they only have a few photos of people he doesn’t recognize, but the one person constant in them is an older guy, maybe 19 or so, and very athletic. There are pictures of a lacrosse team and shot looking down showing a puppy on the guys lap, but all Stiles can register is how good his thighs look in those shorts. He’s really fucking hot. And one of the pictures is taken in a town a few over from Beacon Hills (he recognizes the giant rooster okay? Every teenage boy in a 100 mile radius has taken a picture with that giant blue cock!!). Holy shit! Stiles creeps on him a little more and realizes that he is a real outdoor freak and likes to camp, hike, and hunt. Stiles doesn’t like hunting, but everyone can’t be perfect. There is one picture of the older boy at the beach, no shirt and his swim trunks riding low. Stiles feels his blood start pumping and he goes back over to his DMs.

Mischief2008: thanks!! i really like taking pix of the stuff around me and i try to make them look good :p

Stiles wants to ask him a million questions but doesn’t want to seem like an over-eager loser, either. It only takes a few minutes for a reply, but it seems like it takes forever.

soldiersAg99: you do a good job. i can tell you are an artist. ur dog looks really cool. do you have any more pics of u 2?

Stiles doesn’t. He grabs a shirt and bolts downstairs, whistling for Shadow. They run onto the front lawn and Stiles takes some time propping his phone up on a flower pot and setting the timer. He grabs Shadow and gets him into a ‘sit’ and then throws his arm around him. He repeats this process four times with his face at a different angle until he gets one where he thinks he looks good.

He runs back inside, changes shirts, and then comes back out, moving the camera angle and taking another picture, this time with Shadow on his back legs with his paws on Stiles’ shoulders which just shoe how much bigger the wolf is than the boy.

Finally Stiles gets Shadow to lay on his side and flops down in the thick grass beside him, struggling to get his t-shirt off.  He takes another 200 pictures with their faces close together, but Shadow won’t stop licking him and soon Stiles can’t stop laughing. He thinks that there is one of him lying on his back shirtless with Shadow taking a pretty big lick of his cheek while Stiles laughs that looks pretty good. He bolts back inside, Shadow in his heels and slams back into his room, making sure the door shuts behind him.

Mischief2008: oh srry I just saw this. ya I have some more pix. his names shadow and i have basically trained him to do whatever i want

soldiersAg99: whatever you want?

Mischief2008: yeah haha

soldiersAg99: you must be a pretty good trainer

soldiersAg99: the pics just came thru and holy shit ur dog is huuuge! he looks like a total badass alpha male. hes so dark too against ur skin

Mischief2008: im pale haha he is a total alpha. he gets really protective of me n stuff. i was thinking about training him to hunt

Stiles was doing no such thing. But he knew that soldiersAg99 likes hunting and he couldn’t think of how else he could prolong the conversation. It worked too. SoldiersAg99 really got into talking about training dogs to hunt different kinds of prey and they ended up messaging back and forth for about 45 more minutes.

soldiersAg99: ok i g2g eat. it was good to meet you. the names greg by the way.

Mischief2008: ok yea i have to go too.

Stiles was thrilled that soldiersAg99 gave him his real name, but Stiles was a little too nervous to give his nickname—it’s too unique. He hems and haws about it but doesn’t want to seem like he doesn’t trust his new friend. And he seems pretty normal anyway.

Mischief2008: my names Stiles

Chapter Text

Greg was awesome. Since they first started talking, they chatted every night. Stiles made sure to post more to his Instagram, now 3-5 pictures a day so that they would have something to talk about. His following was growing, but with a lot of names that seemed like people from out of state who liked dogs. He did have a lot of pictures of Shadow on there, so it kind of made sense. He likes posting photographs on his Instagram account because he can be a little racier without specifically sending the picture to Greg, but he knew Greg would see them. Stiles has started taking more pictures with Shadow in the photograph (Greg always talked about the pictures where they were together the most) and with a little more skin. Stiles even cut the lawn and posed with his shirt off.  Greg said he wished they could be out working on the lawn together and Stiles heart raced. Greg wished he knew Stiles in real life!

Greg flustered Stiles and kept him on his toes. He was always kind of flirty but never said anything that was truly gay. And Stiles was dying to know if Greg was gay and interested in a relationship, but he couldn’t get up the nerve to ask him. What if he said no? Then Stiles would be all alone again. Since the sleepover, even though his friends are acting like nothing happened, Stiles has pulled away from them. More and more he feels alone at school and although he sits with the Gang at lunch, he is usually off to the side fucking around with his phone. Checking his Instagram.

Some of the stuff Greg says worries Stiles a little. He called a celebrity they were talking about a faggot, but Stiles couldn’t tell if it was in an ironic way or not. He just kept talking like it hadn’t happened. Greg has been posting a little more on his Instagram, too. Not a lot, but 2-3 pictures a month. That’s how Stiles knows that he has a lot of guns. There was a picture of Greg with a handsome older man (obviously his father or uncle, they are definitely blood related) at a gun range with about 15 different guns fanned out in front of them on a picnic table. Greg looks really hot in that picture, but he is wearing clothes that almost look militant and something about it turns Stiles stomach with anxiety. He knows that not everyone who loves guns is a close-minded homophobe, but that is usually the general vibe he gets from the “Don’t Tread On Me” crowd that the photo suggests Greg may be a part of.

Despite those potential issues, Stiles’ can tell that overall Greg is a really good person. He talks really highly of his family and especially respects and loves his dad. Greg also must volunteer at a wildlife sanctuary or something because today he posted several photos of him in an enclosure with wolf-dog hybrids (they actually look a lot like Shadow).

Mischief2008: holy shit the wolf-dogs you volunteer with look just like shadow!!!!!

soldiersAg99: ikr! i just started there and had to show you. i wonder if it is the same mix?!?

Stiles face suffused with warmth as he thought about Greg being excited to tell him something in real life. They were becoming pretty close. Close enough that Stiles missed him when he was in class or forced into some father-son bonding time.

———-

It was about 2:30 am when Stiles saw a new DM pop up.

soldiersAg99: hey i was thinking

Mischief2008: yea?

soldiersAg99: nah, its dumb nvm

Mischief2008: no come on! what were you gonna say

soldiersAg99: you probably don’t want to

soldiersAg99: im too old

Mischief2008: no u arent. come on tell me i promise i’ll say yes

Stiles sat obsessively refreshing his computer screen. It took a long time for Greg to respond.

soldiersAg99: im really horny

Stiles went from floppy to rock hard in the space of a second. His breath caught in his throat. This is it. Greg is gay. He schools himself (“Just be cool, Stiles! Be cool!!”) trying to get his jackrabbiting heart under control.

Mischief2008: yea me 2 haha

Was that too nonchalant?! Stiles is almost paralyzed with uncertainty. Did he accidentally sound like he wasn’t that interested? Is Greg going to think that he brushed him off?! Should he message him again?! Thankfully before he can, Greg responds.

soldiersAg99: u ever jerk off with ur friends?

soldiersAg99: not in a gay way. just 2 have some company. im not a faggot

Stiles is torn. On one hand, Greg is basically making fun of who he is without knowing it. On the other hand, it seems pretty gay what Greg is asking. Maybe he just isn’t comfortable to admit it to himself yet. Maybe he just needs a little push to get there. Stiles answers with more bluster than he feels, clamping one hand over his eyes as he presses enter. His heart is in his throat.

Mischief2008: yea haha me neither. but jerking off and hanging out isnt gay. me n my friends do it all the time. u want to?

That isn’t strictly true. He and Scott has tried it once but in the end Scott couldn’t get over thinking Stiles was trying to scope out his dick so it didn’t go very far and just ended up straining their friendship.

soldiersAg99: fuck yeah. im getting hard just thinking about it. 765-555-1927

What?!? HOLY SHIT. Is that his phone number? Does Greg want to call him?! What the hell is he supposed to do with that?! Who just gives out their phone number and expects to be called? Especially when they haven’t talked about it yet?! Stiles wishes he wasn’t flipping out but that would be a goddamned lie. He whirls around in his chair to get an opinion from Shadow, who unhelpfully stays on the bed snoring, completely oblivious to the entire situation.

Stiles knows that he either has to type back an answer and make an excuse as to why he can’t or...make the call? His hand is moving to his pocket and before he can rethink it he has his cell phone out and is typing in Greg’s number. It’s ringing (holy shit!).

Someone answers the phone after a short delay where it sounds like the person on the other line is moving something.

“Hey, man.” The person who must be Greg says. And holy shit his voice is really masculine and deep. He sounds like a person who is used to being in control. He sounds older than Stiles thought he would.

“Hey,” Stiles answers nervously. He doesn’t know what is going to happen and it makes him really nervous.  Stiles, who always has contingencies for his contingencies, doesn’t know what he is supposed to say next.

Greg starts in just talking about normal stuff—like the purpose of this call wasn’t to jerk off—and Stiles brain can barely register it. It’s bizarre but he is glad they aren’t jumping right in. But Greg sounds hot. You know how you can sometimes tell by their voice if someone is hot? Greg sounds hot. By the time Stiles is able to tune into their conversation Greg is talking about the volunteering he does.

“...and you know I just started there but it seems kind of weird. I thought it was a wildlife sanctuary but I think it is actually more of a conservation facility?” He laughs, “I wasn’t expecting it but my first day there they were actually introducing a male and a female wolf/dog hybrid hoping that they wouldn’t kill each other and would end up breeding.” At the mention of breeding, Stiles’ mind starts going a mile a minute. He knows what dog breeding looks like and he wonders if it’s the same with wolves. Or maybe more primal and instinctive? God, he has to remember to look that up. Greg takes a deep breath and Stiles almost wonders if he can hear fabric moving on the other line. He can’t, can he? He himself has had his hand in his pants, squeezing his prick since he pressed ‘Call.’ He doesn’t think that Greg can hear that though.

“Yeah so today the introductions went really well and the wolves started fucking almost immediately.  I mean, I’m not a freak that’s into that shit, but it was kind of hot. Got my blood pumping anyway.”

Stiles whimpers softly, doing everything he can to keep the sound in his throat. This mans voice in his head describing wolves mating is too much for him. He desperately strips his dick, the pressure building up inside of him.

“Yeah, I can hear your faggot ass beating off over there.” Stiles groans in dismay and humiliation—Greg is supposed to be on his side and he told Greg he wasn’t gay!! “I bet you would have come in your pants watching these two wolves fuck.” Stiles is horrified but also so turned on and close to orgasming that he doesn’t know what to do. He hopes that Greg can’t hear his heavy breathing over the phone. “I bet you would bend over and spread your lily white ass cheeks for me.” Stiles can hear something...extra and thick...in Greg’s voice as it speeds up, the man also obviously getting closer to orgasm.  “I bet your slutty little asshole would kiss the tip of my dick.” That’s the last coherent sentence that Stiles can understand. After that it is a lot of noise with some “fuuucks” thrown in. When he hears Greg’s voice break as he comes, Stiles’ balls tighten up and spray come on his desk. There is silence while they both work their dicks, squeezing all of the come out of them that they can. It drips down Stiles’ knuckles. Stiles hears Greg panting on the other line, coming out of his orgasm haze. Stiles hangs up and proceeds to freak the fuck out.

Chapter Text

 Stiles spent the rest of the night ashamed and confused. His friend--Greg--had gotten so nasty with him, it left a sour taste in his mouth--a sour taste in his mouth and jizz in his jeans. 

_____

 He woke up in the morning to a message in his DMs. 

soldiersAg99: hey stiles, im sorry. I didn't mean to take it too far last night. I just get really into dirty talk and i forgot that you don't have as much experience as i do. it was the best orgasm ive had in a while tho ;P and i dont care if your a faggot.

Stiles read and re-read Greg's apology with varying levels of mortification. It was nice of him to even offer an apology, Greg didn't seem like the kind of guy who apologizes often. But he's still calling him a faggot, which isn't cool. Greg kind of did have a point about how Stiles wasn't familiar with sex--up until recently he hadn't ever even had it, and Stiles isn't really sure if losing your virginity to a dog counts.  In the end, he went half of the day before messaging Greg back. It felt too lonely not to talk to the boy--he had quickly become very important to Stiles. 

 Mischief2008: lol no worries. i dropped the phone i came so hard but no homo. 

Stiles didn't want to potentially ruin their friendship before it really started, so there is no way that he's going to tell Greg that he's gay--Greg's made it obvious how he feels about gay people and Stiles doesn't want to be lumped with 'them' in Greg's mind.  He doesn't really have anything else to say, so he leaves it at that. He keeps checking his phone all day but every time there hasn't been a response from Greg and it makes his stomach twist in knots--maybe he's already ruined it.  It isn't until late at night that Greg responds and Stiles goes from despondent to flattered and happy in two seconds.

soldiersAg99: sorry was busy volunteering today. So i was thinking--this sounds crazy but hear me out--maybe you want to come train a wolf at the sanctuary? The ones I told you about aren't doing well like they were yesterday and the keepers have tried everything. i was talking to them about you and how awesome you are and that you are so good with wolf hybrids and had trained Shadow to do everything. the keepers asked me if i could ask you if you could help train Rory. they asked if you could bring shadow and show the kind of training you do to make sure your methods are humane first. 
 
Greg thinks that he's awesome. Stiles lets out a high pitched squeal and stamps his feet up and down because he can't keep all the good feelings in his body. Greg wants his help with training at the wildlife facility!! Sure, he's not qualified in the slightest but it wasn't hard to train Shadow (or had Shadow already known the tricks?). AND he'll get to meet Greg in person! The boy was so excited that he didn't even adhere to his usual "play it cool and wait 5 minutes to respond" rule.

Mischief2008: that sounds amazing. i would love to help out Rory if i can. i don't know how i would get to the sanctuary with Shadow thought--he can't come on the bus and i can't tell my dad bc he would just worry about me getting eaten or something.

soldiersAg99: i cant wait to meet! i volunteer at the sanctuary on Saturday. i could get my dad to pick you up. he won't mind.

With that, everything got settled quickly. Greg's dad would come pick Stiles and Shadow up from their house on Saturday morning, right after the Sheriff goes in for his weekend shift. When Greg had asked for his address, Stiles had felt a stab of anxiety--he knew he shouldn't give it out but at the same time if he refused, it would be like he didn't think he could trust Greg or his dad. In the end he decided that it was safe enough--it's not like Greg is a complete stranger, they are friends online and soon they will be in real life too!
_________________

To meet his friend in person, Stiles wants everything to be perfect. So Friday after school, he kisses his dad goodbye and then immediately calls Shadow to him and puts on his leash. It's a little confusing to Derek and since Stiles hasn't been saying what's happening out loud, he doesn't really know what is going on. And after leashing him up, instead of taking him outside, Stiles brings him upstairs and into the bathroom, shutting the door after him. Stiles wants Shadow to be perfect, and that means he's got to get a bath. 

It's easier than he thought it would be to coax Shadow into the bath after filling the tub halfway with water. He has his leash on so he can theoretically pull him if necessary (can a boy his size really move a dog Shadow's size if the dog doesn't want to go? No.) but Shadow just hops inside the tub and starts drinking from the water at his feet like a goober, making Stiles laugh. He gets a big cup and starts scooping water and pouring it onto the dog, and Shadow's being so good. He just stands here as it takes Stiles a full 10 minutes to wet down his thick double coat. His tail wags and his red penis slips out of its sheath when the boy puts his hand under his chest to splash water onto his underside but Stiles doesn't linger.

He has soaped up Shadow's front half and is busy making a mohawk for the dog using suds as gel when he exclaims, "OH!" and tells Shadow to stay and runs out of the room. He is back in the bathroom as quickly as he left, this time with his phone. He wants to take a picture for Instagram. He takes a couple but they look awkward and he wants to look hot--because he knows Greg will see it.  

After trial and error, Stiles ends up taking off his shirt and setting the timer on his camera. He climbs into the bathtub and throws his arms around Shadow with a big grin.  He jumps out of the tub fast to make sure that it looks good and posts it with the caption "fun in the bath!" after making sure his face and body look okay. Unfortunately for Stiles, he didn't make check to make sure the rest of the picture was good, because if he had he would have seen that Shadow's bright red rocket is clearly on display between the dog's back legs. 

Now that his social media obligation is finished, Stiles puts his phone down and starts really massaging the soap into Shadow's coat. He suds up his ruff, down his back, his haunches, his chest--and then he comes to it. The awkward part. The Sheriff always tells Stiles that he has to make sure to wash his butt and his privates when he showers, so Stiles knows he can't leave Shadow dirty, but it feels weird to think about washing them because Stiles gets a little thrill up his spine that he knows isn't appropriate. But baths are part of pet ownership and while Derek isn't around to care for Shadow, that responsibility comes down to Stiles. And Derek is paying him and probably wouldn't be happy if he found out Stiles wasn't taking good care of Shadow, Stiles justifies to himself.

Lathering up his hands, Stiles looks under Shadow and sees that his cock is already very interested. Wanting to avoid it and see if maybe it goes down, the little boy grabs the base of the dog's tail and lifts it up so that he can see Shadow's asshole. It looks pretty clean, but Stiles wants to touch it anyway.  Not because he's a pervert or anything--because he's a curious kid who just wants to know how it feels. 

Keeping the dog's tail cranked up and out of the way, Stiles uses his right hand to massage the soap into the fur, tentatively rubbing over the dog's pigmented asshole. He does a few swipes--just to make sure he's clean--and when his fingertips come into contact with Shadow's hole a third time it puckers up and Shadow tries to move away from him a little. 

Stiles realizes that he is on his knees bad-touching his dog and getting hard from it and pulls his hand back, feeling ill, but only for a little bit. As his fingers go under the dog's belly to clean Shadow's privates, the soap lets his hand glide right over the slippery surface of the dog's very evident, very interested cock. Shadow's whole body spasms as the boy's fingers first brush his sensitive cockhead once--like it could have been an accident. But the second and third time they trace by, it would have harder to explain away. And when the boy's breathing gets hard and his little hand forms a loose fist around his cock and Shadow starts pumping into it, there are no innocent explanations anymore. Stiles' other hand comes up and starts rubbing Shadow's heavy hanging balls, grabbing them lightly so they don't swing so much. 

FUCK, it feels good. This is the first time that Stiles has really come to him, without Derek really initiating anything (unless being hard already counts). That a kid can still look so innocent when he's concentrating on jacking off man's best friend will play heavily in Derek's fantasies--if he can ever bring himself to abandon this living arrangement. Stiles is justifying more and becoming a bigger and bigger dog slut every day. It's delightful to be instrumental in his progress during his formative years.

Shadow's hips piston into Stile's hand and Stiles can feel the knot there and adjusts his grip so that he's squeezing right behind the knot, just like a real bitch's pussy would. That does it and suddenly Shadow's cum is splashing in the bath water. Stiles still holds him, clenching and unclenching his fist, looking at Shadow's swollen, jizzing cock and thinking about what it would feel like to have it in his mouth. The boy's mouth waters and he leans into the side of the tub, humping into it as he imagines getting underneath the dog in the tub and sucking him off. 

It doesn't take long before Stiles whole body is spasming and he's ejaculating in his shorts--again.  When Shadow seems like he's coming down off of his orgasm, Stiles finally lets go and brings his hand up to his face. It's coated with a glaze of dog cum and the boy doesn't hesitate before bringing his palm to his mouth and licking a big swipe of it. It doesn't taste like anything, so he cleans his hand using his tongue before rinsing it off in the tub water, which also has dog semen in it. Shadow's tail thumps against the side of the tub. 

Chapter Text

His last post on Instagram was by far his most liked and shared post. By Saturday morning, it had blown up. And by blow up, Stiles means that 97 of his 124 followers had interacted with the post in some way. It also had a bunch of comments.

WisconsinWoofhound:hot

beast4life: I'd like to be that dog. He knows he's lucky.

Doghunterxxx: man i would like to see what the rest of him looks like.

ObedienceFirstChicago: if you haven't already seen it you're missing out :P

Wolflover75: scrub a dub dub, i want to see the video of this time 

Knot4U1999: cool doggy. he looks so..happy

ImTheAlpha: you are both looking really good there. Share more pics--do you have a website?

GranddaddyAg59: Beautiful Boy. 

Some of the comments didn't make sense, but the positive feedback was heady and it made Stiles want to share more. He wanted to respond, but figured he would do that on Saturday night when he got back from the wildlife sanctuary. For now, he's got Shadow on leash and they are waiting to get picked up by Greg's dad. He takes a quick selfie of them--he checks and it looks good he thinks he looks pretty with his huge smile and Shadow always looks intimidating--and posts it with the caption "Can't wait to show you guys what we are getting up to today. I'll give you a hint #funwithwolves".

He checks his Insta as a black SUV with dark tinted windows pulls into his driveway and he's already got a ton of likes on his selfie, with a few comments asking about what is in store.  One in particular makes him smile.

soldiersAg99: can't wait to see u

He feels excited and pleased that he's giving his followers what they want and is definitely going to make sure to snap a few pictures while at the facility. They are going to FREAK OUT when they see what he's doing today.

A fit, hot DILF in dark wash jeans and a black t-shirt gets out of the car and waves at Stiles--it must be Greg's father, he can kind of see a resemblance. He introduces himself as Christopher Argent and smiles, almost making Stiles swoon. He crouches down and pets Shadow on the head, telling him what a "Good Dog" he is.  Mr. Argent pops open the back, saying something about not getting dog fur on his upholstery and tells Shadow "Up!" Stiles is kind of impressed at how Shadow obeys him immediately, although to be honest when Chris tells him to get in the front seat, Stiles follows orders just as quickly. 

Stiles fidgets in the front seat at first, but soon Mr. Argent has him laughing, telling him embarrassing stories about Greg as a kid that are frankly hard to believe. It makes Stiles relax a little and he doesn't really pay attention where they are going, mostly paying attention to how hot Mr. Argent is and how hot his son is going to be.  His phone goes off and he glances down at it, palms sweating when he sees the number the text is from.

765-555-1927: hey i cant wait to see you!!! And shadow! i'm really sorry but my boss just told me that they need some food for the wolves asap so i have to take the sanctuary van and pick it up. i should be back in a couple of hours

Stiles lets out a big sigh that has Mr. Argent looking over at him "Are you okay over there, Champ?"

Holding back a snort at being called 'champ,' Stiles turns his phone off and puts it back in his pocket. "Yeah. Greg just texted that he has to make a food run for the animals so he won't be there when I get there, but that's okay." 

Chris made a sympathetic noise and pats Stiles' knee. "I know he's really looking forward to meeting you, so he'll be bummed out about that, too. He hasn't stopped talking about you and your dog since he first saw your picture." He shakes his head ruefully, "From your pictures I think he thought you were a lot older."

Stiles bristles at being called too young, "I'm old enough," he declares proudly. "Greg and I understand each other."

Chris smiles back slyly, "I'm sure you do."

__________

It takes about 5 more minutes to get to the sanctuary, and when they get there, Stiles is a little surprised. It looks more like a private compound than a wildlife preserve, with the big  barbed wire fence around the entire perimeter and a long, long driveway to get to where you can even see the buildings. There are 5 big buildings that look almost industrial. One of them has a series of well-reinforced dog runs jutting out of the side. They drive behind that one and into the woods a little bit, coming to a really big, securely enclosed wolf habitat.  

The entire habitat is one big circle that has been carved up into pie slices, with an elevated walkway over one of the sections to the center. Mr. Argent, Stiles and Shadow get out and follow it, some of the wolves in the habitat below losing their shit when the see Shadow. At the center of the circle is a building that must serve as the hub to do anything with the animals--feeding, vet work, cleaning. Stiles is surprised that there is a camera set up and asks Christopher about it. 

"Greg didn't tell you? They're shooting a nature documentary to help promote the important work they do here at the sanctuary," Chris smiles, the skin around his eyes crinkling. "They've been working on it for a while but it's hard to find the right actors," he laughs. Stiles laughs too--politely, even though he thinks that's pretty weak for a dad joke. 

"I'm sure they're real primadonnas," Stiles adds, rolling his eyes. 

"Oh, they are," an older, oily voice affirms, an older, white-haired man coming out from one of the rooms off of the middle. "You must be Stiles. And this must be.....Shadow." 

The man instantly gives Stiles the creeps and when he sees Shadow's ears go back, he knows it isn't just him. Chris introduces him as Gerard, the director of the sanctuary. So this must be Greg's boss. Stiles knows he wants to make a good impression, so he holds out his hand and shakes Gerard's. The old man's hand is cold and clammy and it makes Stiles want to rub his palm on his jeans immediately, but that would be rude. 

"I was hoping that you and Shadow might give me a demonstration of your training methods. Greg has told us how good you two are together and we have an alpha Male who really needs a boy with your talents to work with him," Gerard said, smiling. Smiling should be reassuring, but Stiles doesn't think Gerard is. Maybe it's the man himself or maybe its just the fact that he's old and Stiles doesn't have many old men that he's had good interactions with-- but Stiles doesn't like him. Something feels..weird.

"I'd love to help out Rory if I can," Stiles says, agreeing and leading Shadow as they follow Gerard into one of the habitats that spoke off of the main area. It's empty of other wolves/dogs, of course, but the animals in the habitats that neighbor it are watching with intense stares.  Stiles unclips Shadow's leash--its mainly there for show anyway, and starts putting him through his paces. 

____________

Shadow had been SO GOOD for him. When Stiles finished showing off everything that Shadow knew, Chris had clapped and Gerard had told him he was very impressed. Stiles had noticed that Shadow was much less playful when he was doing the tricks in front of the men than when he and Stiles are alone and instead seemed focused on doing everything perfectly. At the end, Gerard had told Shadow to roll over and he had petted the dog's stomach while telling him what a "Good, loyal dog" he was.  Gerard had left afterward, saying that he left the introduction to Rory in Chris's capable hands.

It felt weird to leave Shadow locked up in the habitat, but he couldn't very well bring him with to meet an alpha wolf. Apparently, Rory was so sensitive that he and Mr. Argent actually had to shower the smell of Shadow off of them before entering his enclosure. 

Chris followed Stiles into the room--the shower was a small room attached to the men's restroom that had about 4 shower heads coming out of a cement wall and in one corner there was a big dog crate. It gave Stiles the heebie-jeebies and looked a little like what he imagined a prison shower might look like.  

Stiles wasn't shy, exactly, but stripping down in front of his friend's dad and showering in the same room as him felt like a lot. But Mr. Argent didn't make a big deal out of it, taking off his shirt (why hello, abs!) before pulling down his pants.  Stiles whipped his head around so that he was facing the corner, determined not to be skeevy and check out his crush's dad. He drew his arms through his shirt and took it off before reluctantly taking his pants down. He stood in his underwear for a few seconds, trying to get the courage to take them off. It felt...wrong. 

"You can leave them on if you want," Chris said, stepping under the warm spray of the shower.  His voice draws Stiles' attention and he looks over at the man, ending up getting an eyeful. Seeing the cock of a full grown, adult man is completely different than seeing the privates of boys his own age. For one thing--there's a lot more hair. On Mr. Argent in general--his chest, his legs, his face--and on his crotch. His pubic hair is trim and neat, light brown and silvering. His cock and balls hang heavy in front of him, his adult dick fat and almost twice the length of Stiles' adolescent one. Stiles' cock twitches in his underwear, all blood routing south. As the boy watches, he older man starts slowly playing with his own balls before leaving them and stroking his shaft as it begins to rise for the occasion. Something's wrong. Stiles face falls as he bends over to grab his clothes. This is all wrong. Mr. Argent gives him a handsome, lopsided smile but what he says next and how he says it makes Stiles' blood run cold, "But I bet your faggot ass would rather take them off."

Chapter Text

He doesn't know how he missed it before, but that voice..."Greg?" Stiles asks, voice trembling. His entire face goes red and he feels hot and cold and numb. Like his brain is a CD that is skipping. That's Greg's voice. Coming from his dad. Mr. Argent.  

Chris smiled and walked over to the boy, grabbing his clothes from him and throwing them on the tile floor underneath the spray of water, soaking them. "I'm sorry, Stiles. I wanted to meet you so much after seeing your video and I didn't think you'd meet up with an old man like me. I used a few pictures of my sister Kate's boy to get you interested--but it doesn't seem like you're disappointed in what you see," he says, referring to the way that Stiles' eyes have locked onto his cock. 

In reality, Stiles body feels like it is shutting down and his vision is tunneling again, until all he can see is Christopher Argent's wet dick. He's making a lost-sounding, high-pitched pitiful whine that sounds like its coming from a distressed animal. Argent grabs him pushes him so that he stumbles into the corner before grabbing him by the arm and bending him over the big dog kennel, moving his grip to the back of Stiles' neck and pressing his face down into the bars. His cheek presses into the thin wire of the cage so hard that the skin around the metal turns white from lack of peripheral blood flow.

When Chris roughly yanks down Stile's underwear, the young boy's screams echo off of the tile walls and he is shocked out of his stupor, starting to writhe and kick out desperately. The kid's protests are nothing compared to the strength and training of a hunter, though and Chris keeps him pinned with one arm. With his other hand, he reaches out and turns the water over the kennel on--cold. It rains down over Stile's naked torso, dousing him but barely splashing on Chris.

Instead of trying to physically subdue the struggling boy, Chris lets him wear himself out, getting harder and harder as Stiles' panic level rises. The cold water is doing its job nicely--the kid doesn't really have a layer of fat on him, so its only a matter of minutes before the kid's movements are jerky and uncoordinated and the only sounds in the room are his sobbing and teeth chattering. 

"I don't know why you're working yourself up, Champ," Chris says after the boy finally goes still, breathing hard underneath his palm. "I'm just going to make your fantasies come true. Now do what we talked about, you disgusting faggot." His voice is hard and doesn't brook any argument. 

Stiles can't feel his fingers, toes, skin, nose, or teeth. Do you even feel teeth? He doesn't remember but if you are supposed to, he can't feel them. Nothing seems right anymore and he's still experiencing a large amount of cognitive dissonance--he can't believe that Chris is Greg. That Greg catfished him--that CHRIS catfished him. And now he's going to rape him. Just a few days ago, Stiles had never had a cock inside of him and thought he had wanted one. Now he's going to lose his virginity to a man old enough to be his father. Wait--can you lose your virginity to a dog? The intrusive thought makes Stiles tear up with embarrassment and shame. If he's not a virgin, what does that make him? 

A heavy hand comes down on his ass--Chris is done waiting. Stiles yelps--he's cold and the contact is sharp and makes his skin sting. "I'm sorry! Please let me leave!! I'm sorry! I don't know what you want me to do. I don't now what you want me to do!! I just want to go home," Stiles' voice breaks over the last word, with the thoughts of warmth and safety it evokes in him. 

"You're never going home again," Chris says before smacking the hell out of Stiles, hitting him at least 15 times, but Stiles lost count. The cold metal bars felt like they were cutting into Stiles' face and chest. His skin was turning a pale blue with the water and each time Chris hit him it felt like a knife was cutting into him with the way his nerves were sensitized with the cold. His small body shakes uncontrollably--out of either fear, or pain, or cold or all three. 

Chris leans in close to him, grabbing his hair and twisting it cruelly, arching Stiles' face up and back. "Bend over and spread your lily white ass cheeks for me," Chris growls, the words from their phone conversation coming back to haunt Stiles. "I won't ask again."

Stiles was shaking uncontrollably beneath Chris Argent as the boy bent his arms back and put his hands on his buttocks. He started sobbing but he didn't spread them, Chris could see the snot coming out of his nose under the spray of the water. The boy was an ugly crier. 

Chris waited a few more seconds and right before he started going in dry, Stiles' hands parted his buttcheeks, exposing his cute, tight hole. Chris made a noise of approval and pumped some shampoo onto his fingers, taking no time in inserting one fully. Stiles grimaced underneath him, but he had been fingered before and the shampoo helped enough to prevent any serious pain. Chris used his other hand to start stroking himself off. Finally having the kid beneath him was a heady feeling, but as much as he wanted to, Chris knew he couldn't penetrate the kid. He was Argent Studios property now. 

 Working two, then three fingers into Stiles only took a few minutes. Chris was nothing if not efficient. Sure, the boy keened and squirmed underneath him and it sounded more like pain that enjoyment, but if he hated it that much maybe the little faggot shouldn't ask for it by spreading his ass.

Chris placed his slicked up shaft in the crease of the boy's cheeks, humping forward and causing his cockhead to slip and slide over Stiles' hole, barely catching on the furl. He continued to thrust, rubbing his penis between the cheeks. The friction of hot-dogging the kid feels fucking amazing, and the fear and anticipation of penetration he sees in his eyes just makes it that much better. It doesn't take long before Chris is splattering hot cum directly onto Stiles' asshole. 

By the time Chris was done, Gerard and a few other men were standing in the doorway to the shower, spectating. They were all hard, but none of them reached down or did anything to relieve their situations.   It was time.

_______________

Every type of enterprise has it's seedy underbelly. It turns out, for the Argents it's producing were-on-human pornography of a very specific, non-consensual shade. A *lot* of hunters like to watch that type of thing, even if most of them would deny it with their dying breath. Funnily enough, a large subset of werewolves are even into it, meaning Gerard Argent is earning money from the very beasts he enslaves to make it and makes it his life's work to kill. 

Chris had had a lot of explaining to do when Stiles and Shadow had debuted early. The plan had been for Derek to secure the boy's trust and give the hunters and 'in' to talk to him. Instead, that dog had decided to fuck Stiles--on camera, in front of someone who knows how to get stuff posted on the darkweb. It had caused a fair amount of trouble, tracking down Mikhail and buying the footage off of him--they wanted Stiles to be exclusively with Argent Studios. 

In the end, that little teaser had done a lot more good than harm. The number of users that were willing to pony up to get past the paywall was impressive. It seemed like Stiles already had quite the following, now they just had to introduce him to his fans.