Luna's Revenge

Chapter 1

I was startled awake when I heard the front door open. My sleep had been blissfully dreamless, but alas, I was pulled back to the cruel nightmare that had become my reality.

I wondered if I could perhaps pretend to still be asleep when Marcus came. Would he leave me alone then? Quickly I abandoned that plan, realizing its futility. He’d see through my ruse, and even if he didn’t, he certainly wouldn’t hesitate to use my unconscious body as his plaything.

Instead, I decided to do my duty. I tossed aside the blankets that had been covering me and rose to my feet just as the man entered our shared bedroom.

I say man, but Marcus was a beast at that moment. He stood seven feet tall, his body impossibly muscular and covered in a thick black pelt. His face was that of the wolf, its dark eyes piercing through me, its fangs bared.

In my father’s time, no male came before his mate in such a form. It was considered disrespectful. It’s not as though men aren’t typically far stronger than women, to bring such an excessive show of force was simply wrong!

My father’s time was long in the past, though, and the pack was worse off for it. Marcus is the alpha now, and under his rule all that matters is strength.

“Welcome home, Master. How might I serve you?” I asked quietly, hoping obedience would engender some small measure of mercy in the man.

“Strip, b***h,” the beast before me growled.

I knew better than to argue. I pulled the nightgown I’d been wearing up over my head, revealing the nakedness beneath. All I wore then was the silver necklace that Marcus forced me never to remove, which prevented me from assuming the form of the wolf myself.

Marcus’ form began to shrink as he stepped toward me. The fur that covered his body receded to reveal the tan, muscular build beneath. It remained only as a shaggy pelt atop of his head. His eyes became those of a man, though no less bestial in their lust. The face of the wolf became the face of a man, chiseled and handsome and cruel.

Even as a man, Marcus towered over me at 6’6” to my mere 5’4”. The man shoved me onto our bed before climbing on top of me.

I knew my duty. I reached one hand down to his crotch and began to massage his large manhood.

“You are such a slut,” the man grinned.

It didn’t matter that I was doing exactly what I knew he wanted from me. Any opportunity to humiliate me, to debase me, to speak rudely to me…. Well, I think he enjoyed those things more than he enjoyed having his d**k stroked!

“I’m your slut, master,” I replied, forcing myself to let out a moan.

It was all an act. I’d humiliate myself because I knew it was what he wanted. Even then, after so many years as the man’s wife, I didn’t fully understand why. There was a time I looked forward to being Marcus’ mate. The man was always rough-around-the-edges, but he used to show me a measure of tenderness. Now, though, he shows me only his scorn.

The only conclusion I could come to was that I’d come to represent something to him. I was, after all, my father’s daughter. My father had been the previous alpha of the pack, and he’d upheld the old ways. Strength still had its place, but so too did love and respect and tradition. It was a world very different than the one Marcus had built, and clearly one he’d grown to revile.

As if to confirm my suspicions, Marcus began to whisper in my ear.

“What would the old man think if he saw his precious princess now? A little slut, suitable only to serving his master and getting f****d?”

There was a time when those words would have cut deep, but that time had long since passed. I could hardly feel at all anymore, and so any resentment I felt was too faint and distant for me to care.

Not yet satisfied, the man pulled himself off me and stood before me.

“Suck me off, slut,” he commanded.

In a way, I was relieved. I wasn’t wet, and while that hadn’t stopped him from putting his rather impressive manhood inside of me in the past, I was happy not to have to experience that again. I dutifully pulled myself off the bed and slid onto my knees before Marcus. I took his erect manhood in my hand and wrapped my lips around it. I began to move my hand and my lips up and down is shaft,

I’d learned over the years exactly how to please Marcus in the act. I kept my hand firm around his shaft. I applied as much saliva as I could, simulating the wetness of my slit. I flicked my tongue at his frenulum as it passed by. Above all else though, I moaned. I moaned like the slut that Marcus expected me to be.

“You’re such a good little slut,” Marcus said, the pleasure he felt softening his tone. That was a relief. Sometimes I was lucky and that was enough to keep his wrath at bay.

It wasn’t long before the man found release. His sperm shot into my mouth, and I dutifully sucked it up, licking the remains from his p***s’ tip.

“I’m tired, get out of here slut,” Marcus commanded as he stepped past my kneeling form and laid down in our bed.

I didn’t hesitate to follow his command, rushing out the bedroom door still totally in the nude. It seemed my obedience had won me one night’s reprieve, and I wouldn’t risk it by trying to find clothing. I quickly made my way to the guest bedroom, where I climbed under the thin bedding. I was cold, but still blissfully alone.

“What would the old man think if he could see his little princess now…?”

Marcus’ words came back to me, though I tried to push them away. It wasn’t something I had any desire to dwell on. I was a well respected woman in my father’s day, though now Marcus and those around him showered me only with scorn. I really was little more than a pathetic slut in their eyes, a relic from a bygone age deserving only of scorn. Marcus told me that my father would see me as a pathetic slut as well. There was a time that I wouldn’t have believed him, but after so much time it was hard to imagine anybody seeing me as anything else.

I found myself praying to the moon goddess for some salvation to my plight. I doubted She heard me. Cut off as I was from the wolf within as I was, I couldn’t imagine Her answering my prayers. She seemed so distant anymore, unlike the nearness I felt to our patron deity back in my father’s day. In my youth, he would take me with him to the sacred grove, and as the alpha he would be blessed by hearing her whispers.

Marcus is the alpha now, though, and it’s Him instead that is blessed by hearing Her voice. The Moon Goddess has become cruel under his reign, and I doubt a weak woman like me could ever hope to receive Her blessing.

Feeling only the same despair that has dominated my life for so long, I eventually drifted off to a fitful sleep.