Date: Fri, 8 Sep 2023 19:57:51 -0400
From: mr.evan.andrews@gmail.com
Subject: Wolf Station chapter 4 -- science fiction or fantasy

Wolf Station
Chapter 4: A Fine Morning
By Evan Andrews ©2023


This is a fan fiction.

"Wolf Station" is part of a larger cycle of stories related to my Hunters
and Hunted series.

As always, I had some faces in mind as I wrote these stories. Wulf is based
on rugby player David Williams, Grey on Hugh Jackman, the Bunyip on Tom
Jennings (Slake from Beyond Thunderdome), and Steve-o on Bill Mumy (from
his Dating Game appearance—google it). This story should not be
considered a true representation of the sexuality of either the actors or
the characters they play. I apologize for all the Australianisms I'm about
to get wrong; please assume that no insult was meant.

The story depicts males in sexual situations with other males. If this
offends you, if you are underage, or if reading such is illegal where you
are please stop reading now. Thank you.

If you enjoy this story, or even if you hate it, please contribute to
keeping Nifty going at http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html


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Wulf, woke up and stretched. The morning sun played over his naked body, a
pleasant breeze ruffled the curtains in the window, and, best of all, the
slave, Steve-o, was sucking his dick.

Wulf watched the copper-red head bobbing up and down over his shaft for a
bit and then, closing his eyes, lay back to enjoy the experience. Many of
his Brothers didn't enjoy monkey sex like this (or said they didn't), but
Wolf appreciated the boy's dedicated and freely given worship of his
cock. Yeah, Steve-o was that good, and Wulf planned to enjoy his oral
services for as long as he could.

After a quarter hour, Wulf pulled the redhead off his cock, and, rolling
the boy onto his stomach, he mounted the young man and proceeded to fuck
his butt. The well-trained hole relaxed to let him in and then tightened to
increase his master's pleasure. Wulf still couldn't figure out what he'd
done to luck into this boy.

While Wulf pumped away, fucking the compliant hole, Steve-o lay there
moaning in pleasure. The slave's legs and arms were bent at knee and elbow,
and his fingers grasped at the bedclothes. His head, turned to the side,
showed off his now familiar `fuck me' face.

If that wasn't enough to convince his master that he was having a good
time, Steve-o also kept up a patter of dirty talk.

"Fuck me, Sir! Oh yeah, fuck that ass! Fill me with your cock!"

The boy had come a long way during his short time on the station. The three
Brothers had borrowed him from the titular owners of the land hereabouts,
an Indigenous village that had some mutually beneficial agreement with the
government that let them occasionally take American tourists that wandered
unprotected onto their lands and use them as sex slaves—for as long as
they lasted. (The villagers were some demanding and virile studs, and well,
it was the Outback. Things happened.)

This studmuffin, who had originally been called Steve Olson, had been
serving the village for a few years, but they were more than happy to lend
him out since they their stable of man-whores now numbered over a half
dozen. That was how the copper-haired boy had ended up in Wulf's bed
sucking Wulf's cock.

Steve-o had cleaned up well. His body had by his ordeals been stripped to
male essentials. Whipcord musculature, shoulder-length hair that was a
pleasure to touch and stroke, beard and mustache that, when trimmed, served
to accentuate his handsome face. And he was perfectly submissive.

During his days with the Brothers, Steve-o had recovered parts of his
original sexual response—the boy was a moaner, for example. And the
mouth on him! The villagers hadn't wanted someone that talked, just a
submissive whore with open holes, but Wulf enjoyed it when the slave let
him know how happy getting fucked made him.

And then Wulf came, dousing the monkey-boy's guts. The Brother collapsed
and after a moment rolled off his slave's back.

"I'm going to shower. You go get breakfast ready."

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Water sluiced over Wulf's hairy body, and he considered what to do next.

The presence of Steve-o in the station was a mixed blessing. He was there
to fuck, true. But given one hole, no matter how broken to taking dick, and
three hard cocks, all competing for that prime resource, dissention in the
ranks was not just a possibility but an inevitability. The Brothers handled
it as best they could, but when Grey and the Bunyip almost came to blows
one evening, Wulf decided something had to be done.

"We need another monkey to fuck," he said after dinner the night before,
sounding for all the world like an alpha, "Preferably a bitch."

"No argument from me," Gray said.

"Bunyip?" Wulf said.

"The silverback there's just looking for a way to avoid fighting me."

Steve-o watched, tense, sensing that violence might not be too far off.

"If you want to stay here, you'll stop that growling right now. You want to
fight someone you fight me, but if you do and you lose—and you will,
pup—you'll be heading back to town where I promise you you'll have to
learn how to cope with being a lone wolf in short order."

Wulf and the Bunyip stared at one another until the Bunyip blinked and
looked away.

"Fine," he snarled, "Go get your bitch."

Wulf missed the youngster's emphasis on the word `your', but Steve-o
didn't. He watched as the youngest Brother stormed out the door,
disappearing into the Bush, and then looked at Grey.

"Yeah, I saw," Grey said to the redhead, "But it's okay for now. Let's just
hope Wulf can find a good bitch."

Steve-o still had no idea what a bitch was, but he nodded and said, "God
willing."

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When Wulf had washed and pulled on a pair of stubbies, he headed for the
kitchen, but once he got there he found the place unusually deserted. Sure,
food was on the table, covered to keep it warm, but there was no Steve-o,
and neither of his Brothers. That could only mean—

He followed faint sounds into the bedroom that Grey had claimed.

The older brother was lying on his back with Steve-o perched on top of him,
riding cock like a pro. The third, and the Bunyip (Wulf had never heard his
monkey name) crouched over top of them, lining up his meat to stretch the
slave's hole to an illogical extreme. Steve-o, for a change, found himself
unable to conjure up appropriate words and now just wailed expressively as
the two tops bred him simultaneously. Wulf watched for a bit, considered
joining in, but then decided that if Grey and the Bunyip had worked out an
understand he was not about to fuck it up. Instead, he retreated to the
kitchen to eat.

When the other three finally joined him, they found their leader ensconced
in the big easy chair, reading Nietzsche and munching down a biscuit
sandwich filled with honey chicken. They all fell to, even the slave since
the Brothers let him sit at the table with them, and polished off the rest
of the food.

The Bunyip belched unselfconsciously, and Wulf laughed.

"Okay, I'm going to make that town run we talked about. It could take
couple of days, and I'm going to drive. Is my taking the rover going to be
a problem?"

"Nah," Grey said, "I was going to get started on the second bunkhouse
today. Steve-o can help me."

Grey always made a point of calling the sex slave by his name, and the
young man was visibly grateful to him for the simple courtesy—even if it
was monkey manners. The other two had followed suit without even realizing
they had.

"What about you, Bunyip?"

"I'll hunt."

Of course. Hunting was what the young Brother always did unless Wulf forced
him into some other exertion. What he was hunting, nobody asked. Better not
to know.

"Good. It'll be nice to have the station established and functioning. Just
make sure that Steve-o," and again the slave beamed, "Doesn't get snake- or
spider-bit. We're probably too far out to get medical help for him if that
happened, and I don't want to set a precedent for critters thinking they
can just come barging in on us."

Grey nodded, as did Steve-o. The Brothers had all been pissing the place
down daily, so it was unlikely anything would approach the place. Better
safe than sorry, though.

"And, Bunyip, hunt all you want, but don't prank the villagers. And don't
poach from them. They're good people to have as neighbors. They understand
the wild ways, and they're of greater value to us as allies than
enemies. Got it?"

Surprisingly, for once the Bunyip agreed with the Old Man.