Where The Stars Take You (BoyxBoy)

Chapter Three: Lupus

[A/N] It's short, but it's where I wanted to end it[A/N}

Chapter Three: Lupus

One could not pluck a flower without troubling a star.

Loren Eiseley

When I was born, they named me Lupus. They named me after the constellation, but you'd think the way the other pack members treat me, I was named after the disease.

As a pure white wolf, I am completely submissive. I have a fear of dominants. I am very cautious and aware, but my fur does not make my personality. I am playful, and I like to laugh. I like to howl, and sing. I am a happy person.

People see my fur, and want to hurt me or take me as a mate. They don't care that I have an unhealthy obsession with the human R&B singers. I yearn for humans to come out of extinction, so I can hear new ones, but werewolf singers only sing rock and heavy metal. They don't understand the true struggle of a person like the human R&B singers.

Anyway, I have veered off course. The bottom line is dominants see me as an obedient breeding cow. I am nothing more, nothing less. I am for their pleasures. I am a trophy to be won. That is all I will ever be, and I have resigned myself to that fact.

I dream about the love that Keyshia Cole and Mariah Carey sang about. My dad promised me that my mate would take good care of me. I don't doubt him, but I should have. I really should have.

"Lupus, meet your mate," my daddy announces as I peer up at the dominant to be my mate. He is a wild man. He has wild brown curly hair, and a long beard. He has dark black eyes that are what I imagined space would look like. He is built like a linebacker. He is perfect in my mind. I know this man will protect me with his life, but a little part of me fears him. I know that he can make me do anything. I fear the control he'll have over me, but Dad says that he will not abuse this control.

He smiles at me, and takes my hand and kisses it. "Charmed. They call me Atlas, love." I swoon at his words. He has me charmed.

This façade lasts three days until my father leaves. He acts like the perfect mate, and my father falls hard for it, but then again so do I.

"Hi, Atlas," I say as he walks into the room we were sharing. I was laying on the pile of fur on the floor. I was wrapped up tightly, because I was freezing.

He walks up to the bed swiftly, and yanks the covers off my body. I shiver as the cold hits my skin. "We are to mate, now," he grunts out in between ragged breaths.

"Can we give it a couple more days? I'm still trying to adjust," I ask. He slaps me.

"We are to mate, now," he repeats. I begin to cry, but he either doesn't notice, or doesn't care. I don't fight it. He is my mate, and he is way stronger than me. Sex was bound to happen sooner or later. I should just relax and try to enjoy it.

He is so rough, and it becomes impossible to enjoy it. He didn't use lube, or even saliva. He just thrusts in, and I've never known something to be so painful. I begin to sing to myself in my mind as thrusts in and out.

She's been down and out

She's been wrote about

She's been talked about, constantly

She's been up and down

The thrusts become faster, and the tears are falling as I am screaming out for the pain to go away. People say they just have to prep you, and you'll be fine. Why did he do this? Why did he have to be rough?

You know I've been holdin on.

Try to make me weak,

But I still stay strong.

Put my life all up in these songs

Just so you can feel me.

So you can get the real me

The pain is shifting into pleasure, but I feel dirty. How could I enjoy this? My penis is erect, but the cries for him to stop have not ceased. My first time was supposed to be special. He gets a glimpse of my erection, and takes it as motivation, and the thrusts become even harder and rougher.

She's on solid ground

She's been lost and found

Now, she answers to G-O-D

And she's confident

This is not the end

Ask me how I know

Cause she is me.

There is one huge last thrust as my insides fill up with his semen. Simultaneously, he bites down on my shoulder leaving a mark that will make me his mate forever. As soon as he is out of me, I curl up into a round ball. I vaguely remember him asking me if I wanted to get cleaned up. I shake my head, and he lays back down. He holds me, and whispers how it'll get better. At this moment, I truly doubt it.

You know I've been holdin on.

Try to make me weak,

But I still stay strong.

Why can't I be like Mary J. Blige? I'm going to be a strong independent black woman. I am going to stay strong, because what else can I do? I'm not going to let him break me. I'm not going to let this get me down.