Crucible of Fate

over stone as he moved it, and then the restraint enclosed my wrist. It stung, as silver always did when it hit werepanther skin. As the change in us was chemical, biological, the shift caused all of us to be born allergic to that particular metal. Normally it was avoided, but Yuri had asked for both the chains and cuffs to be forged from silver for that specific reason. He wanted to make sure I couldn’t get free.
    I shuddered as my arms stretched wide, the second shackle locking to my right wrist.
    “What does the kitty need?”
    “Fuck you!” I yelled, fighting and twisting. I tried to bite him, but I had no range of motion, held fast, only able to use my head, hips, and legs. My chest was wedged against the hard, sharp stone wall.
    I snarled when he laughed at me, squirmed when his hands went to my belt and trouser stays. My slacks pooled around my ankles, covering my dress shoes, seconds later.
    “If you struggle, you’ll hurt yourself, so stay still,” he ordered, warm breath caressing my ear before he put his open mouth between my shoulder blades.
    He took his time, licking, nibbling, sucking, then finally kissing down my spine until he reached the small of my back, and he dragged my briefs down. My hard, dripping cock bounced free, brushing the wall painfully even as I felt him bite down into my right ass cheek.
    “Oh, please,” I begged, my voice not my own, the whine, the crack, not normal.
    Rough hands spread me, opened me wide, and then he dipped in his tongue to taste me, sliding over my puckered hole before pushing inside.
    “Yuri!” I yelled, pushing back into his face, wanting him deeper.
    He devoured my ass, nibbled and suckled, relaxing my muscles, making everything wet and open and wanting.
    I was panting, lips parted, writhing against the wall as he discarded my underwear, shoes, and socks, all of it shoved to the side so I stood chained and naked.
    “What do you need?”
    But I couldn’t say—it would make me weak and I couldn’t be, could never be. “Let me go.”
    He left me, and I was in agony that he had taken me at my word as I stood there and yanked and tugged on the restraints, causing them to cut into my wrists.
    “Stop,” he ordered, and then he put his hand over my cock, stroking, jacking me off, but shielding tender flesh from sharp edges even as he screwed two lubed fingers deep inside my rectum.
    “Yuri!” I howled in anger and pain and bliss.
    There was no gentle, because I wasn’t having it. I didn’t want it, didn’t need it, wouldn’t have appreciated it even if it had been offered. Instead there was stinging heat as he withdrew his fingers, only to quickly slather my hole before he grasped my hips and pushed his enormous mushroom head against my entrance.
    “Beg.”
    I tried to push back, to lift up, to gain any kind of leverage at all.
    “Domin.”
    This was part of it, the control I had to release.
    “Beg,” he ordered again.
    I was shivering. My entire body had broken out into a cold sweat, and I could feel him inching in, stretching slowly, my muscles fighting so hard, the pain searing through me, my cock so hard it hurt, drooling precome as he wrapped his hand tight around my balls, making sure there was no release for me, just pressure and ache.
    “Yuri.”
    “Yuri what?”
    “Please, my mate, please, Yuri, fuck me, take me. I belong to you.”
    “Yes,” he said and thrust hard and deep, breaching me and burying himself to the balls in one violent thrust.
    I roared his name, and he pulled out only to plunge back inside, harder, faster, hammering into me, setting a rhythm that was driving and rough, without a hint of tenderness.
    Letting my head loll back when he fisted his hand there in my hair, the force painful, I whimpered with happiness.
    Everything stopped, everything fell away, and all there was, was the pistoning of his hips pounding my ass, the slide, and the fullness. The pinch subsided, going from sharp, scorching pain to dull ache to tensing, quivering throbbing desire. I could only stretch my fingers along the wall and grip, feel my feet leave the floor from the thrusts, and simply let every whine, moan, and cry flow from my throat.
    He stretched his hand over my head and then my right hand was free.
    “Grab your cock; I want to see you come on the wall.”
    “Don’t stop,” I pleaded, because I was so filled, so stretched, and yet there was still more I needed to have stripped away.
    He gripped my chest with one hand, the