The Merciless Alpha(erotica)

NEW STORY TITLE: BREATHLESS (WEREWOLF EROTICA)

This story is based in an alternative universe, where history took a different course than the one we are used to. In this world, the creatures which we now believe to be legends have walked alongside man for the duration of our existence. Vampires, werewolves, wizards, witches, sorcerers, and a host of other beings share our world.

The following story contains, in one chapter or another, lesbian and heterosexual activity in different proportions.

Hope you enjoy..

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“Cheeseburgers in paradise, heaven on earth with an onion slice, not too particular . . . crap!” Sadie glanced down and noticed that her 1972 Dodge Ram pickup was really low on gas. It didn’t help that she was lucky to get fifteen miles per gallon with strong tailwind while going downhill, but she would be damned before she gave up her truck. She’d put more money into maintaining it than she’d bought it for, but it was all worth it.

“C’mon babe, just a litte further,” she said, eyeballing the exit ramp that lead to the holiest of places for travelers: the Truckstop of North America station. Gas, nachos, and the sixty-four ounce mega-gulp of Mountain Dew were just a hundred meters away. Her stomach growled, but she wasn’t sure if it was from anticipation or objection. She didn’t care. The taste buds want what the taste buds want.

The truck coasted up to the pumps and happily came to a stop, letting Sadie pop out and stretch her legs. It was the middle of the night, which always made for interesting quick-stop encounters. She saw a dozen motorcycles parked on the dirt across the access road, a couple dozen semis off to the side, and a smattering of cars in the lot and the pump area. The few people who were outside couldn’t help but look her way.

First, the truck itself had a vibe about it . . . an aura. Perfect pitch-black paint job and shiny silver trim, metalic-silver flat hard-cover on the back, and black-tinted windows. The coup de grace was the silver ram’s head hood ornament that she loved so very much. Most people wouldn’t realize it, but it was actual silver, and it had been magically adhered to the hood so that it would be easier to steal the whole truck rather than try and rip off the ornament.

But if the truck was the left hand, then Sadie Hewitt was the right: she was a genuine knock out. Standing only five and a half feet tall, she had an impish face and crisp, light-blue eyes, full lips adorned lightly with peach colored lipstick, and it was all topped off with wild blond curls that reached down to her belt. He had a denim vest stretching to its limits to contain her more-than-ample bosom, also leaving her rock-hard abs exposed. Tight blue jeans encased those lightly curved hips, toned muscular legs, and firm butt. A lot of attractive women played coy and reeked of false humility. Not Sadie . . . she was hot and she knew it. She’d spent a long time working on that body, and she would be damned if she wasn’t going to show it off every chance she got.

She finished filling up and grabbed her receipt, glancing over to the storefront. Three bikers were hanging out front, and two of them seemed to be glancing her way an awful lot. She noticed their jackets read “El Diablo” . . . she knew of them. Not a bad group actually. They tended to get into a lot of bar fights, even for bikers, but she’d crossed paths with them several times and had enjoyed many a drink in their company. Those two started towards her and she finally got a good look at third, and she suppressed a grin.

‘This is gonna be fun,’ she thought.

“Hey sweetness,” the first one said. He was young, but already had a head start on his beer gut. Both he and his friend had that cocky swagger of people who’d just gotten the training wheels off their bikes and thought that made them hot shit.

“Where you from and how looooooong –” the other one started, grabbing his crotch, “you planning on sticking around?”

Sadie opened her eyes as wide as she could, let her “blondness” creep from her hair into her brain and made her voice as high as possible. “I . . . I just came to get filled up,” she said, making herself look as nervous as possible and proud at setting them up the way she had. “I don’t want no trouble.”

“We ain’t looking to give you trouble,” the first one said.

“But we can help you get filled up,” the other one said. The two bikers grinned at each other.

‘Don’t be too proud you morons,’ Sadie thought. “I GAVE you that innuendo!’

“I . . . I just need –”

“I’ll bet you do,” biker number two replied. “But I think I’ve got all you need –”

“Right there?” Sadie’s eyes went from vacant to wanton. “It looks so big,” she said, then thought, ‘For a cocktail weiner.’ “Much bigger than those assholes at the club had. How’s a girl supposed to make a living grinding her ass against teeny tiny little dicks?” She let loose her best bimbo-giggle.

“A stripper hunh?”

“Exotic dancer!” she replied, putting her fists on her hips, trying to look indignant.

“Sorry, sorry. Exotic dancer.” Biker number one pulled out his wallet. “So, how much for a private dance?”

She lowered her eyelashes and bit her bottom lip. “One or both of you?”

The second bikers was looking like he’d just won the lottery. “Both!”

She reached out both hands and touched them on the leg just below the crotch. “Hmm . . . a party like that would run about –” Her hands cupped their crotchs softly.

“Yes?” both men groaned at once.

Her grip tightened and she lifted both men a foot off the ground, holding them there as her fangs extended and she said, “– about a billion dollars more than either of you will earn in your now very short lifetime!”NôvelDrama.Org: text © owner.

“Oh God oh God oh God!” one of them screamed in significant pain and fear.

“A damn vamp!” the other one screamed, trying desperately to push against her hand and make her release her vice-like grip.

She released her grip, letting both men fall to the pavement where they curled up and clung to their private parts. The third biker had walked over to watch and was in the process of laughing his ass off. This guy was in his early forties and built like a bull. Any extra weight he carried was more than compensated by his massive chest, and he had legs and legs like telephone poles.

“Frankenstein, how long were you planning on letting me play with the newbies before you did anything?” she said, chuckling herself. Frank “Frankenstein” Smith was one of the leaders of El Diablo, and her preferred drinking buddy whenever they crossed paths. Ten years earlier, they’d even had a brief fling before parting ways as friends.

The big man was crouching down, struggling to find breath as he slapped the ground in a symbol of utter amusement. “You . . . (gasp) . . . you should have seen your face! Oh dear Lord, have you been practicing?”

“I HATE being vapid for that long! And yes, I’ve practiced. I actually had to go undercover for a while in a strip joint down in Dallas. Girls there weren’t hired for their brains, but damn they were good eye candy.” She felt her blood stir a little. “Tell ya, I worked there a week after we’d caught our guy just ’cause of the way some of ’em relieved stress on their breaks.”

Frank stood up and clapped her on the shoulder before giving her a big hug. They took turns picking each other up off the ground. Frank was good people.

“What the fifteen hells are you doing here?” she asked.

“Leader of the local chapter got wrapped around a telephone pole, so I came up to help pick the new top rider. Better question is, what are YOU doing here? Last time I heard, you were still in Texas! And I’d heard something about an incident in Austin –”

“We are NOT going to talk about Austin!” Sadie made a zipping motion across her lips when Frank tried to speak . . . then again and again until he finally threw his hands up in surrender.

“Okay! We don’t talk about Austin! But that doesn’t answer what you’re doing here?”

“I finally got transferred to Midian! The West coast is now officially my turf!”

“You transfered to Midian? On purpose?”

She glared at him. “What’s wrong with Midian? It’s just caused there’s more darkworlders there, isn’t it?” When Europeans settled North America, the humans mainly settled the East coast while a smaller band of humans and a lot of the darkworld races kept going. When they found that magical land of forests, mountains and constantly overcast skies, they new they’d found a place to set up shop. Midian had the highest non-human population in North America. Unfortunately, that DID tend to lead to friction, and Midian was also home to the highest crime rates in the civilized world. Every manner of creature that could cause trouble seemed to migrate to the Northwestern American province and into the shadows of Midian.

“Have you ever actually been there?” Frank shook his head, still smiling. He knew well enough that there wasn’t a damn think on Earth that this vampire lady was afraid of. But it didn’t stop him from kidding her. “A troublemaker like you in Midian? Damn, didn’t your Boss in D. C. once tell you that sending you to Midian would be like sending a dragon to an oil field and then wondering why there was so much smoke? What changed his mind?”

Sadie dug the toe of one of her tanker boots into the cracked pavement. “Austin. Which –”

“We aren’t talking about,” Frank finished.

“Fuck it Frank,” one of the other bikers said as he regained his stance, still gingerly cupping his testicles. “Why –”

“Boys, you gotta learn sometime to watch out for vamps. Didn’t you see the window tints on the truck? Those suckers are high-grade UV shields that’ll stop just about anything but visible light. Bed’s designed to be totally light resistant, not that Sadie here minds much, but some of her quarry might. Hell, she’s got a bumper sticker that says ‘Bite Me’ and the whole damn thing is black as hell. Muck with a driver of a rig like that and yer likely to get yourself hurt.”