LMOM: Collared- Part 11
May. 11th, 2010 12:07 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
katekintailTitle: Collared Part 11
Author: KateKintail
Rating: NC-17
Warnings/Kinks: None, really
Pairing: Remus/OMC, OMC/OMC
Disclaimer: This story is NOT of JKR’s making. I make no money from this at all. I also do not condone the keeping of werewolves as unwilling sex slave love pets.
Summary: Unable to make ends meet after the war, Remus submits himself to the Ministry’s program for werewolves.
Word Count: 1,049
Notes: Written for pervy_werewolf’s Lusty Month of May 2010
Remus was escorted down the bright, white hallway as if he had forgotten his way. The guard pushed him into room eight, the heavy boundary pushing at him for a second, though Remus barely felt it. For three days, he’d been away from the Market. To return at all was painful. But to return to precisely where he’d come from was almost unbearable. He almost wished he’d been able to keep the collar, so that his roommates wouldn’t hear him if he cried. After three days of wearing nothing but the collar, he felt naked now without it.
Naturally, both of his previous roommates were there in the cell, along with another werewolf he hadn’t met before. “Well, well. Look who’s back,” said the tall one. Remus didn’t care for his tone one bit.
“Returned already? You must have been a shitty lay,” laughed the blond one.
The new one ignored his presence completely.
Remus shook his head, feeling sick to his stomach. “Actually, I—”
“What’s the matter, pet?” the blond one spoke. “Did you think Linus was going to adopt you? Did you think you had found your forever home?” He laughed heartily and fell back on his bed. “What kind of kinkiness was he into this time?”
“Let me guess,” said the tall one, sitting back on his bunk and looking thoughtful. “He put you in the swing, didn’t he?” Remus didn’t want to answer, but he couldn’t help but nod. “Yeah, I taught him that.”
“You did not, you big liar!” exclaimed the tall one, who curled up on the bunk with his head in the blonde one’s lap. “I taught it to him.”
“Did not.”
“Did too!”
“Boys, boys!” the new one interrupted. “Without a doubt, I taught it to him.”
Remus sat down on the bottom bunk, feeling foolish. He started to say something but his voice rebelled. Not used to speaking, he had to clear his throat a few times before it cooperated with him in a hoarse sort of way. “How many werewolves has Linus taken?”
“No way to know,” said the tall one. “Somewhere between twenty and thirty, I reckon. I’ve been in the program since the beginning and he comes in every time the wife and kids are out of town. Kind of have to feel sorry for the guy.”
“I didn’t feel too sorry for him when he was kicking me out and bringing me back here,” Remus croaked. He fingered his neck where the collar was no longer.
“Let me get you some warm water. That’ll help a little.” He jumped down from the top bunk, above Remus’ head and filled a cup with tap water. “I’m Rolf, by the way.”
“Remus,” said Remus, taking the cup with a nod of thank you.
Rolf went on. “And I bet those two haven’t bothered to introduce themselves. That’s Aaron on his back there and Benji petting his head like he was a pet.”
“He is,” Benji insisted. “He’s my pet.”
“Don’t I know it,” Aaron answered. With a dreamy, contented expression on his face, he closed his eyes. “Besides, what’s the point introducing ourselves? The merchandise is constantly changing around here.”
Rolf walked over and ruffled Arraon’s hair, making Benji start all over again to smooth it out. “Because if we don’t take care of each other, no one else will. Certainly not the Ministry, that’s for damn sure.” Rolf helped himself to a spot beside Remus on the other lower bunk. “Oh, they might think they’re doing us a favor here, keeping us, feeding us, making us useful to, well, select parts of society. But you’ve got to remember they’re still using us. They get money for selling us. Glorified, official pimps, that’s what they are. The only ones who’ll look after us is us. Right boys?”
Benji and Aaron both nodded. And as Remus nodded as well, he felt Rolf’s hand slide onto his thigh. Remus shuddered. What was it with Unit Eight werewolves? Remus didn’t see any of the werewolves in other cells getting all horny. Or perhaps it was just that these ones were bad at hiding their actions.
Rolf’s touch was firm—not at all like Linus’—and the hand slid over to rub Remus’ crotch through the startlingly crimson robes. Just one heavy rub was all it took for Remus’ cock to stir and a second one made it stiffen.
Just as Remus was trying to decide whether to push him away or not, a bell rang.
“Owner coming through. Be on your best behavior, canines,” barked the official.
This sent Aaron and Benji into action, naturally. They gyrated on the bed together, shaking the rickety wooden frame and filling the quiet with their gasps and pants.
Remus looked over to see a familiar face. He got to his feet and walked to the edge of the room. “Severus,” he called.
The man turned his head and stared at him. He paused for a few moments, as if he might say something or might even collar Remus. But all he said was a solid, monotone “Lupin.” Then he turned his sights on another werewolf.
Remus didn’t have a chance to even sit down before the bell rang again. This time, a woman walked in. Remus had never seen a woman at the Market who was a prospective owner. She seemed to have a type, this one, or at least someone in mind, because she caught a glimpse of Remus and went straight for him.
“Like I said, Miss Angelica, these ones are only attracted to men.”
“I know,” she said. Her voice was sweet, tiny, and almost child-like. “I just want one for the household chores and things.” She stepped forward, close to the barrier, and held up a gold collar. “Will you wear my collar?”
Remus looked back at the others in Unit Eight. Benji and Aaron would certainly not miss him. But Rolf looked sad, as if he expected Remus to completely buy that bit about how werewolves had to take care of each other. He didn’t want to alienate them, but he didn’t feel any tie to them either. And the prospect of having an owner not into it for the sex for a change was great. “I accept.”
Author: KateKintail
Rating: NC-17
Warnings/Kinks: None, really
Pairing: Remus/OMC, OMC/OMC
Disclaimer: This story is NOT of JKR’s making. I make no money from this at all. I also do not condone the keeping of werewolves as unwilling sex slave love pets.
Summary: Unable to make ends meet after the war, Remus submits himself to the Ministry’s program for werewolves.
Word Count: 1,049
Notes: Written for pervy_werewolf’s Lusty Month of May 2010
Remus was escorted down the bright, white hallway as if he had forgotten his way. The guard pushed him into room eight, the heavy boundary pushing at him for a second, though Remus barely felt it. For three days, he’d been away from the Market. To return at all was painful. But to return to precisely where he’d come from was almost unbearable. He almost wished he’d been able to keep the collar, so that his roommates wouldn’t hear him if he cried. After three days of wearing nothing but the collar, he felt naked now without it.
Naturally, both of his previous roommates were there in the cell, along with another werewolf he hadn’t met before. “Well, well. Look who’s back,” said the tall one. Remus didn’t care for his tone one bit.
“Returned already? You must have been a shitty lay,” laughed the blond one.
The new one ignored his presence completely.
Remus shook his head, feeling sick to his stomach. “Actually, I—”
“What’s the matter, pet?” the blond one spoke. “Did you think Linus was going to adopt you? Did you think you had found your forever home?” He laughed heartily and fell back on his bed. “What kind of kinkiness was he into this time?”
“Let me guess,” said the tall one, sitting back on his bunk and looking thoughtful. “He put you in the swing, didn’t he?” Remus didn’t want to answer, but he couldn’t help but nod. “Yeah, I taught him that.”
“You did not, you big liar!” exclaimed the tall one, who curled up on the bunk with his head in the blonde one’s lap. “I taught it to him.”
“Did not.”
“Did too!”
“Boys, boys!” the new one interrupted. “Without a doubt, I taught it to him.”
Remus sat down on the bottom bunk, feeling foolish. He started to say something but his voice rebelled. Not used to speaking, he had to clear his throat a few times before it cooperated with him in a hoarse sort of way. “How many werewolves has Linus taken?”
“No way to know,” said the tall one. “Somewhere between twenty and thirty, I reckon. I’ve been in the program since the beginning and he comes in every time the wife and kids are out of town. Kind of have to feel sorry for the guy.”
“I didn’t feel too sorry for him when he was kicking me out and bringing me back here,” Remus croaked. He fingered his neck where the collar was no longer.
“Let me get you some warm water. That’ll help a little.” He jumped down from the top bunk, above Remus’ head and filled a cup with tap water. “I’m Rolf, by the way.”
“Remus,” said Remus, taking the cup with a nod of thank you.
Rolf went on. “And I bet those two haven’t bothered to introduce themselves. That’s Aaron on his back there and Benji petting his head like he was a pet.”
“He is,” Benji insisted. “He’s my pet.”
“Don’t I know it,” Aaron answered. With a dreamy, contented expression on his face, he closed his eyes. “Besides, what’s the point introducing ourselves? The merchandise is constantly changing around here.”
Rolf walked over and ruffled Arraon’s hair, making Benji start all over again to smooth it out. “Because if we don’t take care of each other, no one else will. Certainly not the Ministry, that’s for damn sure.” Rolf helped himself to a spot beside Remus on the other lower bunk. “Oh, they might think they’re doing us a favor here, keeping us, feeding us, making us useful to, well, select parts of society. But you’ve got to remember they’re still using us. They get money for selling us. Glorified, official pimps, that’s what they are. The only ones who’ll look after us is us. Right boys?”
Benji and Aaron both nodded. And as Remus nodded as well, he felt Rolf’s hand slide onto his thigh. Remus shuddered. What was it with Unit Eight werewolves? Remus didn’t see any of the werewolves in other cells getting all horny. Or perhaps it was just that these ones were bad at hiding their actions.
Rolf’s touch was firm—not at all like Linus’—and the hand slid over to rub Remus’ crotch through the startlingly crimson robes. Just one heavy rub was all it took for Remus’ cock to stir and a second one made it stiffen.
Just as Remus was trying to decide whether to push him away or not, a bell rang.
“Owner coming through. Be on your best behavior, canines,” barked the official.
This sent Aaron and Benji into action, naturally. They gyrated on the bed together, shaking the rickety wooden frame and filling the quiet with their gasps and pants.
Remus looked over to see a familiar face. He got to his feet and walked to the edge of the room. “Severus,” he called.
The man turned his head and stared at him. He paused for a few moments, as if he might say something or might even collar Remus. But all he said was a solid, monotone “Lupin.” Then he turned his sights on another werewolf.
Remus didn’t have a chance to even sit down before the bell rang again. This time, a woman walked in. Remus had never seen a woman at the Market who was a prospective owner. She seemed to have a type, this one, or at least someone in mind, because she caught a glimpse of Remus and went straight for him.
“Like I said, Miss Angelica, these ones are only attracted to men.”
“I know,” she said. Her voice was sweet, tiny, and almost child-like. “I just want one for the household chores and things.” She stepped forward, close to the barrier, and held up a gold collar. “Will you wear my collar?”
Remus looked back at the others in Unit Eight. Benji and Aaron would certainly not miss him. But Rolf looked sad, as if he expected Remus to completely buy that bit about how werewolves had to take care of each other. He didn’t want to alienate them, but he didn’t feel any tie to them either. And the prospect of having an owner not into it for the sex for a change was great. “I accept.”