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"MORLOCK!"

The wolf pup screamed the Word once, twice, three times. It was the Word, the Word he was supposed to use, but the massive malamute on top of him kept viciously assaulting his tailhole, a tirade of filth spewing from his muzzle even as the wolf tried yet again to scream, his lungs choking on the thick stench of violence and acrid musk in the air. The dog's cock was huge, the vicious attack more painful than the slender young wolf could have imagined. Had there been any buildup, any preparation, he might have enjoyed what could have been fullness rather than anguish. The dog had instead just mounted him, barely out of his sheath and wrapped in latex before plunging full in, and the swelling knot was making itself all too painfully known as it slammed repeatedly at his resisting ring. It would split him apart, he knew it, too much, too much, he couldn't take this, he couldn't...

"MORLOCK! MORLOCK!"

_ "Shut up, bitch!"_

Without warning, the malamute screamed in shock, stopping his thrashing against the pup, who began whimpering into the bare pillow below him, his eyes clenched in agony and terror.

"What the fuck did you do?" the dog screamed.

"Nothing much," said a soft voice. "The safe word was used. You didn't stop."

"This fucking bitch wants my knot, and he'll goddamn well take it!"

"I don't think so. The neurotoxin will help soften that appendage long before it actually kills you."

"WHAT THE FUCK?!"

"The injection starts to take effect quickly - perhaps another twenty seconds or so. You'll probably feel the shaking first, your heart racing, a sense of paranoia. It will hit your nervous system in yet more vital areas in about two minutes; most likely fatal in, maybe, five. You can find the antidote at the sheriff's office. It's just a few blocks down the road."

The wolf felt the weight all but fly off of him as he heard the sound of a handgun's hammer being pulled back.

"Four and a half minutes, unless you want this instead. I'm good enough with this to demonstrate what the word 'capon' means. I wouldn't bother with clothes, if I were you; you'll be completely paralyzed about a minute or so before you die. You know the way out. Take it."

Pawsteps pounded out the door and down the hall. The sound of a door being yanked open was not accompanied by an associated closing sound. The quiet noise of a pistol's hammer being returned gently to its resting position was followed by a softly spoken question.

"Darby, can you hear me?"

The wolf lay still, his head turned away from the voice, unable to stop the shaking, the crying, feeling ashamed, embarrassed, mortified, unworthy of anything. He whimpered and whined like a whelp barely off his mother's tit.

"Darby. I'm here, pup. I'm here."

The voice came from closer now. Eyes still closed, the wolf sensed that the speaker had come to kneel by the bed. He trembled from tip to toes, as if cold, but it wasn't cold that he was feeling. He knew what he had to do, he knew, some part of him knew, but he couldn't quite make himself do it. It wasn't right, he wasn't right, he had failed, he had performed miserably, and he didn't deserve, wasn't worthy, wasn't...

"Darby. Listen to my voice. It's Lebna. I'm here, Darby."

Too much pain. Too much fear. He wasn't worthy, he didn't deserve, he shouldn't have shouted, he wasn't right, he didn't... he didn't...

"Darby. Say it. Say it, Darby. Focus on my voice and say it."

Word. He'd said the Word. He'd used the Word, even though he shouldn't have, it wasn't that bad, he could have taken it, he could have, didn't, couldn't, mustn't, unworthy, not right, not worthy, not...

Not alone.

A keening, a sound like whining, but softer, not outside, not from outside, from inside, from inside himself, a sound, a calling, like someone lost, someone far away, someone who...

Someone who will help.

The wolf fought his own mind, his terror, his pain, made his muzzle start to move. The Word. The_other_ Word. The one that meant he wasn't alone, the Word that he could use because he couldn't use that "other" other one. He could use this Word, the Word that would bring the paws, the soft paws, the safe paws. The other Word. It took him six tries, but it finally came out.

"Sanctuary."

He felt the paws move to him instantly, paws he knew, deep inside, that he could trust. They were soft, working quickly, unbuckling the harness and straps, letting them fall gently from his svelte young body. He felt the slow, tender touch to his headfur, to a spot behind each ear, yes, he remembered those spots, of how good it felt, those special secret spots, being rubbed there, the special touch of Lebna's forepaw...

"Leb?"

"Here, puppy. I'm here."

"Leb."

"Yes, Darby. I'm here."

"I'm sorry."

"No need for sorry, my pup. None at all. Can you tell me?"

"Hurt. Too big. Too much."

"Can you let me look you over?"

The wolf nodded a little, his cheek still to the pillow, eyes still clamped shut. He felt the panther rise, run his forepaws so very carefully over the pup's body, smooth, cautious, vigilant. Tender paws shifted the tail carefully, stopping when the pup winced.

"Darby, I'm going to get some things. Will you be okay if I leave you alone for just a minute or two? I'll be back as fast as I can. I'll make sure the house is locked and safe. Will you be okay?"

The wolf managed to nod again. He felt the touch of the panther's lips to the back of his head, sweet kiss, like other times, and he felt the touch of a light blanket being pulled over him. Sounds around him in the room, something being picked up perhaps, the clinking of a belt buckle, and then the sound of soft feline pawsteps out of the room, down the hall. Something being thrown, there's a sound that is made by something being thrown, and that was it. The front door closed, quietly; a deadbolt,thunk, soft but firm. Beeping from the security system, all locked up for the night. The wolf recognized sounds; he was thinking, or at least had some ability to put thoughts together. He was beginning to notice his other senses now, to smell his own sweat, the stench of the big dog's musky rage, the feeling of a slowly building ache in his muscles, a sense of burning and pain under his tail.

Up HIGH, bitch!

He shuddered again. It wasn't the first time his tail had been pulled. It wasn't the first time he'd been called someone's bitch. It wasn't that he didn't like it, at least usually. He liked... well, he'd always gotten excited by all those stories with the sub getting taken like a bitch, used hard, and he'd had a few males who really gave him a workout, just a few, but it was really good, it was... it was like...

Good slut, yeah, you know you want it, fucking bitch, take me, take it all in that tight little sissy puppy hole, you like it, don't you, fucking queer bitch...

He squeezed his eyes tighter. Not that. Not like that. Not what he... not like the stories, not like what he had wanted, what he had tried, what had happened before, not like...

"Darby? May I sit next to you?"

Voice. Soft voice. The panther was back. Lebna was back. The wolf sniffed hard, trying to clear the snot from his nose, managed another nod. He felt the bed shifting heavily, the cover being taken away slowly.

"I need your help, Darby. I need you to hear me. I'm going to put a damp cloth under your tail. It will feel cool. I need to know if it hurts at all."

Gently, so very gently, the feline's forepaws shifted the wolf's tail upward a little, and then came the sense of a cool wetness touching, moving a little, touching... The wolf hissed as he sensed a stinging.

"Are you okay?"

"Okay. Surprised me."

The tender ministrations began again, the cloth not quite as cold now, the room not quite as cold perhaps, he didn't feel quite as cold now. The wolf's muscles were sore. The pup was maybe 50, 55 kilos, soaking wet. The malamute was maybe double that, and he didn't bother taking his weight on his elbows. He - Darby, he was Darby. Darby was used to being twisted like a pretzel, at least sometimes. He was lithe and flexible, and he liked to please, he liked to dance and flirt and tease and give another male, a big male, the pleasure of an obedient, skillful, passionate pup, all youth and slender body, all...

He hissed again. A cloth (the same one?) was pushed carefully between his asscheeks, and he felt a fresh wave of pain from it.

"I'm sorry, Darby. Are you okay?"

"Okay," Darby heard himself echo. It wasn't bad, not really. He nodded against the pillow. "Okay."

He wanted to go on, to say something else, but he couldn't quite make his maw form words, not yet at least. His mind was still roaming around, looking for memories that made sense, looking for what had actually happened, how this whole night had started. Some pictures tried to form, but he shied away from them. Can't look there, not yet, can't look at that, mustn't look at that, look for something else, look for another someone, another night, another anything.

"Darby? I need to do something, and it's going to sting. It will feel better later, but it's probably going to sting first, okay? Are you ready? I'm right here. Ready?"

He forced himself to nod, heard something like a spray bottle, then cried out when he felt the burning assault on his tailhole, the base of his tail, the whole area. He clenched his legs together, but it still burned, not like before, different, but it burned.

"Hydrogen peroxide, sweet pup. It stings first, but it'll help. When it stops burning, I'll have another cool cloth for you."

"Why does it hurt?"

"Always hurts on an open wound."

The information wouldn't process somehow. Open...?

"There's some blood. It's not bad. No need for stitches, I don't think."

"Is my...?"

"It seems superficial. I'll know more when I can actually get a look. Do you think you can relax a little, let me see?"

For a few moments, Darby wasn't sure. He still felt the fear in his belly, still felt the sweat and stench of the malamute on him, still felt the angry paws... Lebna. This was Lebna. The dog was gone, and this was the panther who cared, who watched over him, who protected him. Yes. Trust Lebna. It's okay. Trust...

"I'll try." His voice sounded strange to him. He nodded against the pillow. "I'll try."

"That's fine, sweet wolf. You'll do fine. May I touch you?"

Why would he...? Ah. Yes. The panic. They'd talked about that. The fear, that strange, feral, yipping beast in his head. He remembered now. Not "Morlock." Not the evil from the Year 802,701. Not that beast; that was during play. ("Play." Hah. "Play." Funny.) This was the other Word. Not_that_ word; that word wasn't really real. This was the word for the other thing, the other fear, the one that came before...

"Sanctuary," he whispered.

He felt the feline's paws gently on his rump, and he flexed a little, involuntarily. He remembered, made himself breathe. Lebna. Sanctuary. This was Lebna. He needs to look. He made himself relax, and the paws moved, so very gently, to open the space between his small, round, firm glutes. He had worked on them for a very long time, many months. They were already pretty good to start with, and by now, they were beautiful even to him, even to the doubting beast within, the other voices, the other doubters, the other...

Again, a cool, wet cloth bathed the dock of his tail, the space below, the cleft of his buttocks. It still stung a little, but the damp cloth was soft, gentle, and it was starting to feel good. He felt something else... a pawpad? Nothing that large, not a finger, must have been something else pressing so tenderly just inside him, moving around the ring of his sphincter, something like a gel applied, a slight burning first, then cooling, numbing, probably applied with one of those cotton-swabbed sticks that Lebna would use on his ears, when the pup would sit still for it. Lebna took such good care of him, made sure he was okay, healthy, happy, safe.

"That should feel better soon." The feline's voice was soft, concerned, reassuring.

"It does already. Thank you, Leb."

A soft paw pet the young wolf's head tenderly. "May I hold you?

"Yes," the pup nodded. "I want you to."

He felt the bed shift as the panther moved to lay next to him, to move his forepaws slowly across his back and underneath his chest, as they reached to take him into a welcome embrace. Yes. This was welcome. This was wanted. Darby rolled slightly, to put his back up against the panther's chest and round belly. Pillow, he thought, managing the smallest of smiles. Lebna was his pillow. He always gave the best cuddles. He wouldn't have believed it, at first, because he was plump. Honestly, he was_fat,_and that was sort of why he was safe to be around. Big guys like that don't usually... well, unless they're also packing like a polar bear or something, they're not dangerous. But that was only at the beginning. It was more, later on. It was...

"Leb?"

"Here, Darby."

"Is it okay?"

"It will be."

"You said there was--"

"It's stopped bleeding. You'll be okay."

The wolf managed a smile. "I'd wag, but you're holding my tail down."

"I need to. Just for a little while."

Darby felt something cold run through him. It was like that time, those years ago, back when he really was more of a pup, back when he was on the street, before Lebna had found him. He'd known fear, first from his father, then his older brothers, sometimes all at once, and then on the streets when he just couldn't take any more of it. He hadn't been out there too long, out there where others could...

"What did you do to him?"

There was a smile in the panther's voice. "Epi pen."

"You used one of your pens on--"

"He was bigger than both of us, pup. I had to get the upper paw fast. It seemed the best way."

The wolf thought for a moment, or tried to. His mind was still disarranged. "Those cost you so much..."

The panther squeezed the young wolf gently against him. "Nothing's more valuable than you."

"What will... will he..."

"If he really does go to the police station, he'll first be asked why he's naked, then asked why he's screaming about some kind of 'antidote.' I don't think he's going to be able to say or do much for a while, at least not until they run some kind of tox-screen on him. If it comes back to us, I'll say that he stole my pen to get some kind of high out of it."

"But won't he--?"

"Shh, sweet pup, it'll be okay. That's for later. His clothes are outside. And he's not going to get very far with some sort of complaint against us if we charge him with rape."

"But I wanted--"

Lebna said, did, nothing; the wolf had stopped his own sentence. It wasn't true. This wasn't what he had wanted, not like this. He shuddered violently, once, felt the panther pull him close again, kissing his eartips, nuzzling those special spots, holding him as if never to let go. And by all he'd told the young wolf, Lebna would never let go, never let him get hurt. He had made the promise four years ago, when the pup was barely 15. Darby had figured it was the usual thing, just in a house instead of a back alley or a male's room somewhere. At least it would have been comfortable, and the old panther (40 if he was a day) probably wouldn't be too much of a risk. But it was different. This time, it was different.

This time...

"Easy, Darby," Lebna said. "I've got you. You're okay."

"I thought he was... I thought he'd be..."

"I know, my little one. I know. I didn't think it of him either."

The wolf's body became stiff again. "What if he had--"

"I saw the condom, pup. It was on, till he lost his boner. I'd given him the proper type, so that it would cover his knot, if you'd let him get that far."

"He didn't use..."

Lebna squeezed the little wolf again. "I was afraid of that. The condom was lubricated, at least, but that's hardly enough." The panther paused again. "I told you I wouldn't watch. I didn't. Never have. Did he... prepare you in any way?"

The pup shook his head. "He just..." A wracking sob made his body spasm; the panther squeezed him again, and he fought down the sounds. It wouldn't help. Not now, as Lebna would have told him. Maybe later. He could face it later. Right now wasn't the time. Not now. Not here. Not yet.

Despite everything, Darby's cock was still dripping. Why did it do that? Did he really want to be hurt like this? Was it the pain that made the slick, watery pre still flow out of his tip? It wasn't because of Lebna, not now anyway. The panther wouldn't do anything to him unless the pup asked, said very specifically that he wanted it. And it wouldn't be anything like the malamute, nothing at all. That just wasn't something that Lebna could do. He had made that clear on the first day. The wolf had sat at the kitchen table, eating cold fried chicken and loving every bite of it, while the panther had spoken softly to him. The pup lied about his age; he knew that consent was 17, in this state at least, and he could fake it if he tried. He was slim, effeminate maybe, but he knew how to act old enough to make a guy trust him enough to pass over the money.

Lebna knew, somehow. He never really did figure out how. And the stupid thing was that the old feline didn't try anything. I mean, the wolf wasn't actually giving it away, but he knew how to use his muzzle pretty well by that time, and it was clear the panther was lonesome. Why didn't he just take what he wanted? Hell, cold chicken would have been enough payment if all he had to swallow was some cum for dessert. But it wasn't like that. Lebna wasn't like that. It had taken some convincing, but not too much, with winter on the way. And yes, the old guy had taken him to bed. He'd taken him to the shower first and scrubbed him down like a dray horse, but then he'd sat the wolf down, using the dryer fans, brushing out his fur... first time in maybe months that he didn't have knots and clods in his fur. And then he took the pup to bed, both of them naked, and he'd kissed the pup's forehead, held him close, and went to sleep. That was it. He went to sleep. And the bed was warm and soft, like dreaming something good, and it was weird, and it made no sense, and his brain eventually just shut up and shut off, and that's how it was until morning.

"Leb?"

"Yes, my wolf?"

"Tell me."

A moment's silence. "You'll be okay."

"Tell me."

A slow, nearly silent breath. "There was tearing, Darby. Not just your tailhole. He pulled on your tail hard enough to break the skin at the dock. I think that was what had hurt you most, my little one. Your hole was gaping a little when I saw you, but you've been stretched before, when someone takes his time, properly. Without preparation, I'm sure it hurt like hell, but it was your tail I was most worried about. I'd swear he'd tried to pull it off of you."

Only after nearly fifteen seconds had passed did Darby remember to breathe. He barked a sharp cry, inhaled deeply, gibbered for some little time as the panther held him and pet him tenderly. Lebna pressed him close despite the pup vibrating like a jackhammer. His_tail,the damn dog had tried to rip off his _tail,_what the _fuck, what the goddamn fuck...! Impossible. Couldn't happen. No one would do that, no one would intentionally...

Up HIGH, bitch, get your pussy ass up HIGH!

Darby wrapped his arms around the arms that held him, holding on to being held, holding on for his life.His life. That was it.His life. His brain scrambled to hold that image, to hold on to the morning after that first night, the morning when he was sure he'd be paying for the meal, for the bath, for the bed. It didn't happen. For a while, he thought his payment was going to be listening to the old cat talk and talk and talk, because what did it have to do with him? Foolish pup, he chastised himself, oh so gently. How long did it take for him to realize that it was_all_about him? Thick skulls, he guessed. Some pups just have thick skulls, and he had to have been one of them.

It didn't happen all at once. It took him a little while to figure it out, weeks all told, but somehow Lebna never gave up on him. Lebna. What a weird name. From Africa, he'd said. It meant "heart" in Ethiopian. Darby didn't even know where Ethiopia was, and at first couldn't have cared less. But there came a time when it finally sunk into his head that the panther had never had sex with him, had never asked for it, never tried to take it. He finally just outright asked, Why don't you fuck me? And the panther had said, Is that what you want?

Is that what you want...

"Leb?"

"Here, pup."

"Why do I want this?"

"You don't want this, my little one." The wolf felt the panther's kiss to the back of his head. "But I know what you mean."

"Why do I want... that?"

"I don't know, Darby. The heart wants what it wants."

"Am I bad?"

"Not even a little bit."

"Then why do I want that?"

"It's not punishment you want, little wolf. It's strength. It's the power of strength, to give yourself to someone who could simply take what he wants, but who respects you enough to accept the gift that he's given, to treat that gift properly."

The wolf shuddered. "Not this."

"No, my precious one. Not this."

Not until he was 17, and even then, not on his birthday, or at least not all of it, not all of what could have happened. There was a joke, Lebna had made a joke about the panther blowing out Darby's candle, and it made the pup laugh. The panther took time, was so gentle, so affectionate, and when the wolf howled out a mind-shattering climax, he could barely stay awake long enough to get his breath back, and the old cat didn't ask for a thing. He just cuddled him up in the warm embrace they'd shared each night for nearly two years, and the birthday pup fell into a deep, blissful sleep.

"Why do you... well, why don't you want to make me stop doing it?"

"Doing what?"

"These males. You never complain. You only ask me to be careful."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I love you, Darby." A soft sigh from the feline. "And because there is something you want that I can't give you. And I want you to be happy. Careful, safe, and happy."

"But this was--"

"This was a mistake, my pup. We all make mistakes. And we learn, and we go on."

"If you hadn't been here..."

"But I was here. I've always been here, and I'll always be here for you."

From that first day, that first cold chicken dinner - and so many other dinners, cold or hot, meat or fish - Lebna had never abandoned the wolf. He left him alone when he asked, but never once had the panther failed to be right there for the pup, and not a night passed that they didn't wish each other sweet sleep, usually in each other's arms. Sometimes, the slender pup was "the big spoon," and the fat old panther couldn't stop smiling, being held as best the pup could (it was a lot of cat for a slender wolf to wrap his paws around). And there were times when the wolf took the panther, slowly, tenderly, guided by words and movement into something that Lebna called "tantra." It took several tries before Darby was able to last for more than a minute or two; something about that plump ass was almost too much to resist. But then that one night, when they were together for a long time, and then another time when they changed to four different positions, each time barely moving once they'd joined. Sometimes, they'd look in each other's eyes, sometimes they'd close their eyes, and they spoke softly to each other, about each other, about themselves. And as weird as it was, that was when Darby talked about wanting to be taken.

The conversations continued, over meals and in quiet evenings, and Lebna began to give the wolf some real information, not just what was in the online porn. And that's how they'd managed to find a few males that would, with proper precautions in place, give Darby the chance to explore this strange, unexplored need that would not quit him.

"It hurts you," the wolf said softly.

"No."

"Yes."

A moment of silence. "Yes. But not like you think."

"How does it hurt you?"

Another pause. "Would you turn and look at me? Please?"

It only took time because they both had to rearrange themselves, push aside the freed harness, and because Lebna helped Darby to be careful with his injured tail, his cramped muscles. He looked deeply into the panther's soft, deep, yellow-green eyes, the black-furred forepaw cupping the pup's cheek, thumbpad tenderly wiping against the fur wet from tears.

"You do not hurt me, Darby, and what you do does not hurt me. What hurts is the knowledge that there is something that I can't give to you, something that you want deeply. You have had a few experiences now, some good experiences, looking into that place in your heart. You are learning, my little wolf, and that is good. That makes me happy. You are finding out more about yourself, and that too makes me happy. And although I would never wish a night like tonight upon anyone I care about, I am at least glad that I was here, that I was listening, to make sure that you would not be hurt."

"Does it hurt you to hear me like that?"

The big black feline smiled softly. "To hear your pleasure? To hear you when you are getting something you want? That doesn't hurt at all. And besides, sweet pup - it is me you stay with. It is me you return to in the night, and on those occasions when you did not have your climax, it is me you give it to. It is me who holds you close each night, and me who wakes to you each new day. It is me who has watched you grow these last four years, and who has been grateful for every moment of it. Just know this: Nothing is more valuable to me than you are, my most beloved wolf. And I wouldn't change a thing about you. Not a thing."

Darby felt another tear trying to form, this one from relief and the warm swelling of his heart. A smile touched his lips, and he touched those lips to the panther's, soft and filled with deepest gratitude. When he pulled away again, he reached up to pet Lebna's head with a forepaw no longer shaking. He was tired, he was sore, and he stank of the damned dog and of his own fear, but he didn't want to move, not just yet. This was not the bed where he and his sweet, protective old feline slept together. They would not go to that bed without being clean of this night, but it wasn't time yet. He felt so very tired, and he tried to make his eyes ask the question.

Lebna nodded. "Let's stay here, at least for now. You need to rest. And yes, I'll stay with you. I want to be nowhere else. And this night will never happen again."

The wolf's eyebrows came together.

"No, my wolf - you will find another, or perhaps more than one. But we will know more about them. We will be safer. You will have more nights to explore your heart, your desires, but this night will never happen again."

Now he nodded a little. He wasn't stupid. Lebna had said so, and often, and he was finally beginning to believe it. He was better, and he deserved better. He, Darby, deserved better. He pulled his favorite pillow to him and was rewarded with a kiss to the forehead and a soft purr. There was a word that he'd had beaten out of him in his difficult youth, but he might find it again, one day. He might be able to say that word one day. For now, another would suffice. He put his cheek to the soft black fur of the feline's chest, and he whispered it against the darkness.

"Sanctuary..."