Claimed by the Alpha

By K.F. Jones

Romance, Paranormal

eBook

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494
2 mins

 

Morning

“Leave me alone, ‘m sleeping,” I mumbled in response to my name. It was warm under the duvet and I was snuggled up nicely barely on the edge of consciousness. The mattress was firm and the duvet held back the cool, morning air. I just wanted to sleep and enjoy the comparative luxury of bed that didn’t creak and a mattress that didn’t sag.

My Master had other ideas, though. Although I tried, I was unable to hang on to the duvet as he tugged it from my grip. The cool air of the room rushed over me and raised goose bumps on my skin. “Get up, William,” he commanded. Not said, commanded. He had established our relevant positions firmly last night and didn’t seem inclined toward asking me to do something that he wanted to be done immediately. I tried to bury my head in the pillow and ignore it.

The sound of the hand slapping my arse was followed shortly by a yelp of shock from me. He did seem to love to spank me, amongst other things. Strangely it didn’t sting as much as I’d have expected, given the punishment I’d taken the previous day. It did make my eyes open and my hand flash protectively to my backside, though.

I started to rise, determined to rouse myself from my slumber to avoid further discipline. Obedience was a key part of Brian’s expectations and I didn’t want to disappoint him, even if the thought of provoking an over the knee spanking did cause a frisson of guilty pleasure.

“Don’t make me wait, William. Get over here, I want you doing press ups in five seconds,” he said gesturing at a spot on the thickly carpeted floor of my new bedroom. I thought about disobeying for a second and then decided against it, clambering off the bed and starting to do press ups. My new bedroom. How strange a thought that was, that I, a biology student, a foster kid to boot, could be spending my nights in an opulent room like this.

I pumped out fifty press-ups in time with the rhythm Brian set for me, some fast ones to get the blood pumping then achingly slow ones for maximum effect.

After that it was star jumps, which aren’t too dignified whilst you’re naked but Brian seemed to enjoy the view and I managed to control my blushing. Well, maybe not control but it didn’t seem as bad as it had yesterday.

It was a good twenty minutes of various bodyweight exercises before Brian was satisfied that I was done. Even though I hadn’t exercised in the morning like that since school I coped remarkably well. I would have expected to be panting like an overheating dog after that little lot but I was barely out of breath and not for long.

I was amazed that I could cope with it but he had said The Bite would have this sort of effect on me. He’d even demonstrated it the previous day by having me do more press ups than I’d ever managed I could do.

As I worked out, he matched me move for move but whereas I managed to work up a sweat it seemed as if it were nothing to him. He explained that he wanted me to maximise my fitness level during the beneficial period that The Bite offered me. This would be our morning routine from that day on, vigorous exercise before breakfast.

“What will we do after breakfast?” I asked curiously.

“I will teach you what you need to know to be my cub. I’ll teach you about werewolves, about the history of our kind, about the social etiquette and what we do,” Brian said as if it were the most normal thing in the world to be giving someone lessons in werewolf history. Perhaps it was to him, I was sure I wasn’t the first young werewolf he’d had to educate.

Once he has answered that question, he ushered me toward the bathroom and into the large, wet room style shower. He turned it on and the hot, relaxing water pounded against my skin to a staccato beat. The pressure was amazing, certainly the best shower I’d ever been in. It was the first time I’d ever been in a shower like this in a house at least, tiled all over and a drain directly in the floor that the whole bathroom drained toward. This was the height of luxury as far as I was concerned, the floor was warm under my feet and clearly heated as it was made of expensive looking tiles. Even the towel rails turned out to be radiators.

It was also the first time I’d been followed by another man into a shower in a private bathroom. The first time I’d been told to stand against the wall of the shower and raise my hands above my head, placing them on the wall. The first time I’d felt the hands of another man, applying the gel he’d just noisily squirted into his hands to my back.

I relaxed as Brian lathered me up and wondered to myself if this would, like yesterday, be another day of firsts for me. Then his hands moved up from my back to my arms and I began to forget about such concerns and concentrate on enjoying the sensation of the moment.




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