SLAM

By: David Ihnen

CREATED23 SEP 2007
MODIFIED23 SEP 2007
RATINGAdult
UNIVERSEUnique
Times viewed
This story is Copyright by David Ihnen. Please do not distribute without permission.

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The door slammed.

His nose twitched, the surface of the door about a centimeter in front of his face, the rusty chrome numbers forming '209'.

You learned in this business to keep your nose out of the path of the doors.

Grabbing his case, he strolled down the hallway to the elevator and pressed the button, absently shuffling his brochures. It didn't light, but he could hear the groan of the lift machinery moving. He would get no more from this floor. The first door slam was all it took.

The elevator arrived and the doors opened with a sound like a squeaky tricycle. He stepped in. It smelled like the hallway only stronger - of mildew and rot. He studied the panel and chose 13. Not all buildings had a floor thirteen. To his surprize the button lit up.

The elevator took its time rising up through the old tenement. The crusty, faded, tagged, and scrubbed interior of the car seemed to get mustier as it rose higher in the shaft, shuddering sideways several inches as it passed the elventh floor. He gripped the railing and grimaced. Elevators did not just fall, they had brakes, all kinds of safety systems.

The light over the door with 13 behind it lit up, and the doors squeaked open rustily. The hallway outside was lit by a humming, sputtering fluorescent panel above, revealing musty, threadbare carpet. Even the fake potted plant placed next to the grime-encrusted oranate table looked wilted.

He found the lobby surprizingly small, with a single double door marked '1301' in the familiar rusty chrome letters.

Putting his salesman smile on, he put down his case and knocked on the door. As he waited he fanned his pamphlets in his left hand.

There was no answer immediately, so he knocked again. Presently he heard movement, and with the snick of a lock being drawn, the door opened wide.

As a salesman, Ben was not known for being speechless. His sales pitch fled his head the instant he saw the creature peering at him through the partially opened door. His jaw sagged as he took it in.

"Uhh..." he said. It was what he could only describe as a werewolf. A large, muscled, sharp-toothed naked werewolf of an unmistakably male gender.

"Please come in." said the wolf in an deep resonant growl, guesturing grandly into the dim interior of the apartment.

Ben twitched, mechanically grabbing his case and taking a step backward. "Uh." he said again.

"I insist." the wolf purred, his yellow eyes narrowing.

With a clank behind him, the elevator started on its way back down. Ben had always been fairly philosophical about his own demise - everybody dies after all. He had long ago resolved that he would accept his death when it came. But he never expected it to have such big teeth.

He swallowed hard, driving the bile back down his throat as he stepped unsteadily through the doorway, into the dimness. It was an expansive apartment, the main room took up at least a quarter the entire level. The drapes were drawn, only the slightest glow indicated the brightness of day outside. The wolf led him past a grand piano and a set of bookshelves to a large, sunken pit. It as upholstered like a couch, and large pillows were scattered about. The wolf jumped down and he saw other movement. The pillows weren't just pillows. They were other wolves.

"We have a visitor, brothers." he said again. He found half a dozen yellow eyes looking at him in the dimness. He swallowed again, hard.

A new voice spoke, similar but somehow smoother. "Not very talkative, is he."

The third wolf chuckled softly. Walking up on all fours, at high as the shoulder as Ben's stomach. The big nose sniffed him, walking around. Then with a shove from behind, he stumbled forward. He fell into the pit, arms flailing, landing painlessly on the soft cushions. He felt the surface flex as a large paw pressed beside him, the second covering most of his back, holding him in place as more noses explored him. Perhaps this wasn't so bad after all. Client is always right after all.

"M..My...My..." he stuttered. He took a deep breath.

"yees?" the first wolf said again.

"My name is Ben." he got out. He felt a bit unempowered beneath the heavy paw pressing him to the cushions. "If there's anything I can do to put you at ease," he began.

"Why yes, Ben." the second wolf interrupted in his silky growl, his hot breath inches from his ear. "You seem to be a bit overdressed."

Ben blinked, and tried to breath under the pressure. Were those claws poking his back? The weight vanished, and he rolled to his side, finding himself surrounded by the three wolves, each watching him intently.

He held his hands up momentarily in surrender. "Okay guys, you have me at a disadvantage. I..."

"Overdressed." interrupted the wolf, a bit of a growl in his throat, stepping closer.

Ben grimaced, and knelt so he could reach for his buttons, hurriedly undoing them and shrugging out of his blazer. He glanced around for a place for it, sighed, and tossed it up against the side of the pit. It would wrinkle there, but it would have to do.

"I believe I can interest you in a trip to..." he started, and was interrupted again, this time by a voice he hadn't heard, frightfully deep and raspy.

"definitely overdressed." Another wolf moved closer to him, eyes gleaming in the dimness.

Ben loosened his tie, continuing to talk. "Yes, well, I'm sure you haven't seen north africa." He removed his tie.

"Keep going." said the raspy voice again. He flinched, and started on the buttons of his shirt.

"Its beautiful, the sandy reaches of the desert. The hospitality in the oasis. You can see the moon over morocco! It is a truely stunning city." By now he had removed his cufflinks and secured them in a pocket. He stripped off his pinstriped shirt, leaving only his sleeveless undershirt.

"I think I liked him more when he was quiet." said the silky voiced wolf, leaning close to sniff at him some more.

"Keep going." said the raspy voice, breathing down Ben's neck.

"Look, uh, sir?" Ben said, tentatively unbuckling his belt. Accept it. Either you die or you don't, he thought. "You've got me at quite a disadvantage here."
The silky voice giggled. "Do you see us wearing clothes, Ben?"

"I can't see much of anything." Ben admitted, shifting to pull the ties on his shoes and tug them free. They were taken from his hands. He blinked as the wolves sniffed them intently. He pulled his socks off, and removed his pants. He could feel the breath of the first wolf ruffling the hair on his leg. He was panting, tail wagging behind him.

"Forgive Rag's behavior." said the silky voice, "he gets excited."

"Keep going." the raspy voice demanded.

Ben grimaced. He pulled off his shirt. A big, cool nose and warm breath pressed against his back. He finally lowered his boxers, stepping out of them one knee at a time, and tossing them onto the sad pile of his clothes.

Things started happening very fast.

Rag pounced at him, muzzle encompassing his crotch, sharp teeth grabbing at his groin. There was a sharp pain of a tooth penetrating his thigh, he was immediately distracted by a furry weight shoving his shoulders forward. Giant paws gripped his hips, forcing slippery warmth into his ass, holding him against the second wolf's stomach. His wide eyes saw a thick shaft glistening in a glimmer of light, protruding from its sheath in the darkness. He twisted his head and it rubbed against his face.

"Oh shit" Ben managed before he was silenced by the cock plowing into his mouth. His eyes bulged at the sheer size of it, his jaw pryed wide and his breath cut off. Sound was muffled by large, strong paws gripped his head. Then he realized that the warm pressure against his ass was moving. He snorted past the cock in his throat as his body twitched, he was starting to panic. His thigh burned all around where Rag had bitten him, but the werewolf's tongue was working over his cock and balls.

Ben found that what he had thought was a penetration before was only a hint as the powerful wolf atop him plowed deep, driving him forward. That just drove his face into the musky crotch of the wolf, the cock in his mouth rapidly getting thicker. His mouth was impossibly full, and he couldn't breath!

The burning pain of his thigh was spreading now, pumped through his body by his panicked heart, hammering impossibly fast in his cheat. The wolves were fucking him, and he couldn't do anything. He was going to die! He convulsed in a fit of self preservation, but he was completely overwhelmed by their strength. One wolf was raping his ass, the other his face, and the third trying to suck him off! And he seemed to be hard? He tried to thrash some more, unhelpfully. His head spun as he finally gave up, sure that it was the end.

Ben always thought dying would hurt more than this. Especially dying by being raped by werewolves. This actually felt pretty good, compared to his expectations. It didn't matter that he couldn't breath. That was odd. Maybe it was like when you froze to death, you stopped feeling the cold. Or maybe he had just always been in the habit of breathing, he thought. The dick in his ass felt huge, in fact, bigger. Like it was growing. Holy shit, it was, filling more and more of him. A single thought filled his head "I'm going to explode." he thought, visualizing his torso separated from his legs like a grenade had been stuffed up his butt.

Thats when he realized his mouth was more full too, his jaw fully distended, aching against the pressure. Regardless of the pressure on his teeth, the dick in his mouth was getting bigger! His stretched throat seemed to groan as it was stretched, his jaw popping as it was pryed even wider.

They came. A discernable force, flowing gushing seed pumped into him. He thought he was full before, now he found out what full was. his stomach swelled, his ass clamped helplessly around what felt like a basketball inside him as the pressure inside him grew. He spasmed in time with the shudders of orgasm, the pleasure momentarily overwhelming the pain as the wolf between his legs sucked down his own seed. He felt himself slipping away, awareness getting dimmer with every twitch, until there was nothing

Ben woke up, slumped against the hallway wall. He blinked and shook his head. "Whuh?" He scrambled to his feet. It was a shabby lobby in a tenement building, smelling like mildew and rot. A wilted looking fake plant sat beside a grime-covered, ornate table. A double door was labeled 1301 in rusty chrome letters.

Ben picked up his case and turned to the elevator, poking the button urgently. The door squeaked open almost immediately and he rushed inside, holding his breath while he waited for the door to close, pressing the main lobby button. With delusions like that, maybe it was time for him to see the moon over morocco himself...


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