pastorella | Got you wrapped around my finger, babe...

Entry tags:

Got you wrapped around my finger, babe...

Who: Erica, Jackson, and Matt
What: Twisted Threesome
Where: Various locations
Warnings: NSFW, Dub-con, Non-con, kink, violence

The pack had gotten word that someone out there was finding a way to control wolves and had already gotten a new beta in his grasp before the pack could bring him in. Or rather, before Derek could add him to the numbers. Because that's all they were, even if she wanted to be more. She'd given him something she'd held so sacred in exchange for the 'gift'. A gift that felt more like a curse each and every day.

So when the news comes that tonight's hunt would be at a club, well. She wasn't going to let them stop her fun. There were very few things she was allowed to do before the change, things that the epilepsy would set off. So no strobe lights, loud music, huge crowds of people. But not anymore. No, she was going to enjoy this - dressed to impress in a black, lace mini and soft curls. She let the boys take care of the actual hunting, Derek having told her point blank that she was bait. And bait needed to stay in view on the dance floor. That she'd be safe and someone would always be close in case anything happened.

And she trusted him.

Erica moved until she was as close to the middle of the throng of bodies as possible, feeling fingers snake around her waist - some random guy thinking he might get lucky. She turns, giving him her full attention, done trying to continue to scan the crowds when she wasn't even sure they were here. And after about half a song, she didn't care anymore. He was moving against her just right, her skirt starting to ride up her thighs as he slips a leg between hers. She wasn't experienced by any means, but she'd always had good instincts when it came to using her newfound sexuality to get what she wanted. And tonight, she wanted to lose herself - maybe even be a little naughty in public so she could experience that rush of almost getting caught. Check a few things off her bucket list while she had the time. She's so focused on him, she's not paying attention to anything going on around her because she honestly believed someone had her back. That nothing could go wrong. Her mistake.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Everyone thought Matt was dead. Which gave him the perfect cover. A means to reclaim Jackson. To have everything he'd wanted. Almost. If he couldn't Allison, he'd just take everyone around her. Which meant all of those annoying werewolves that seemed so protective of their precious little hunter. His connection with Jackson, now gone, gave him somewhere to start. It took months to find something to even remotely replace it. To give him some sort of control. The collars weren't perfect, but they were a start.

His first target was, of course, Jackson. Already conditioned to follow his will. And to his surprise, some of that connection still remained. Crushing the werewolf's will with the collar was enough to bring it to the surface. Something to use. He'd already found he couldn't do that with another wolf he'd found, one that didn't matter. But it would do for now.

Laying out the perfect bait was such a terrible plan. Matt knew how to handle these wolves by now. He lurked in the crowd, knowing the music and press of bodies would mask him. And he let Jackson loose. Pushing him to bring back something good. Which is how he ended up pressed up behind Erica. It was so similar to a long that seemed so long ago. Hands sliding over her body, lips ghosting over her neck, seemingly lost in the moment, not caring who else she pawed at.

He moved before she could turn, before she could alert anyone. Sliding the collar around her neck and wrenching it shut. "Don't. Fight." He hissed in that eerie voice that was overlaid with that of someone else. As elsewhere in the crowd a subtle press of a button ensured she couldn't scream. Couldn't make a sound.

Red lips part in a soft gasp when she feels someone slide in behind her. He's not the only one having flashbacks, easily getting swept up in the feelings to not realize just what he's doing. By the time the collar slips around her neck, the other guy's run off - either not liking the shared attention or the intensity of Jackson.

Her entire body tenses, hearing the warning - noticing just how different he sounded. Panic sets in, her mind already flooding with fight or flight instincts despite his words. Attempts to get attention, to break the hold all fail. Free hands move up to try and pry off the new device around her neck, one of the few things that could send her into a blind rage. It's one of the reasons she rarely wore anything tightly around her neck, especially after the vault. Nails dig into her skin trying to get it off, drawing blood as she shifts trying to break away from Jackson.

"Erica, stop, he's only going to make it worse." It's Jackson's own voice, alone. He doesn't just sound scared, he sounds absolutely terrified. That quivering, on the verge of breaking down into tears sort of terror that few people ever got to see. He ducked his head, eyes squeezed shut, his entire body tense against hers. Part of him trying to pull away from her while another part struggled to hold on.

Then all at once the balance inside him shifted. He let out a feral growl, blue glowing eyes snapping open. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, hugging her aggressively tight. "Stop. Fighting." He said in that eerie, doubled voice. His head dipped, nose and lips dragging over the side of her neck. Not quite nuzzling at her. Something else, something possessive.

Elsewhere in the crowd, Matt didn't care if she broke away. Jackson could heal, and she was trapped. He didn't know exactly what the collars were made out of or why they worked, he just knew werewolves couldn't break them. It was such a shame he only had two for now.

There were very few people she ever expected to sound scared. Jackson was on that list. He was the type that she never imagined could fracture in such a way that it'd be almost tangible. She can feel herself shaking, unable to still as his grip tightens and his mouth... Oh god, this would almost be comical if it were any other situation. One of the guys who'd never have given her the time of day before was all up on her like she was the best thing he'd come across in a long time. Almost breathing her in like a fine honey.

But, this wasn't that situation and what he was doing wasn't okay. Her hands that had been previously clawing at her throat move to his arm, trying to break skin or break the actual arm - whatever came first. Her voice is strained, wiggling against him to slip away if the opportunity presented itself. "Let me the fuck go, Jackson." Her eyes scan the crowd, looking for her pack, the wolves that were supposed to have her back tonight. Waiting for one of them to realize she was in trouble and help her. They wouldn't abandon her and leave her to possibly die, would they?

No matter how hard she clawed, his arm didn't budge. She may as well have been feebly pawing at it for all the good it did. In fact, his grip tightened on her shoulder, claws digging against her skin. Not enough to make her bleed, but enough to be a warning, and rend any fabric in the way.

His free hand was far more gentle. Fingers teased over her stomach, practically caressing her as he inch lower. A promise of what he might be willing to do. His lips dragged higher, and he was breathing against her ear. Hot and heavy with his how struggle. But that doubled voice was calm and steady. "That's not going to happen," he said, teeth grazing her ear. "So why don't you Be. Quiet." There was a strange emphasis on the words as elsewhere Matt activated part of the collar.

It wouldn't silence her, not entirely. It would rob her of any and all words, as well as most of the gusto behind any other sounds she might make. She would find that no matter what she tried to say or do with her voice, it came out as small, soft sounds. Gentle, desperate mewling at most.

She didn't care if her clothing was shredded right now, focused on the bigger problem she was currently facing: that she was pretty much screwed with no help in sight. Her breath catches in her throat at the thought that it apparently might not just be figurative, hating herself for how what the feeling of his breath against her ear was doing. As much as she tried to act like she was hot shit now, she was still inexperienced when it came to guys. It'd be a blatant lie to say she'd also never thought about Jackson that way, thought about what it'd feel like to have him look at her a certain way, notice her. That had been before, though. Before when it was an unattainable daydream to keep her mind occupied in class. A way to get through the day when reality was too much to deal with.

She'd have never wanted anything like this, and definitely not with some messed up double voice trying to keep her in line. Her body jerks as she tries to break the hold, although she's stopped by her lack of a voice. The sharp alto timbre of her words was gone... And for some reason, that was far more terrifying than anything else. She'd only just found her voice, she wasn't ready for it to be gone. It infuriates her, nails digging into whatever of Jackson's skin she can find - the sounds slipping out not matching her rage. One last attempt to get away before blind panic set in.

A tension slowly settled into Jackson's body. A quivering, uncomfortable tension that weakened his grip on Erica. His fingers tightened against her stomach, hand pressing flat as if to compensate. He was trying to fight it, trying to let go. But he couldn't, not with that whisper deep in his mind. Not with the collar around his throat, nestled beneath the crisp collar of his shirt.

"Don't run," he said, his voice his own and cracking with desperation. "It's worse if you run." Because if she tried to run, Matt would ensure her legs did just as her voice did. They would give out. Fail her completely. "Please. Erica. I--" He let out a gasp of pain. He couldn't move his arm, but those close were enough to make his hand release her shoulder.

The thrumming beat of a new song reinvigorated her, the temptation to run so strong. It's worse if you run sounded more like a challenge than a warning. She was headstrong and incredibly stubborn. She just needed to get to another member of her pack. Isaac was somewhere in here, she could try and catch his scent if she could get close enough to him. She'd have to try, work past the cologne and incredible reek of desperation clinging to the air.

When his hand slips from her shoulder, she makes her move - trying to lose him in the crowd and head towards the back room of the club to slip out into the alley. She didn't care if she'd hurt Jackson, hadn't paid attention to the desperation in his voice. If she were older, maybe. Of course, if she were older, she wouldn't have been caught in this situation. At least that's what she was telling herself.

Run, just run and don't stop.

Catching a whiff of Isaac, she changes course towards a staircase tucked away on the side. Her straight blonde strands bounce around her, something that might've been picturesque if her face wasn't contorted in fear and anger. She could do this, he had to be close. She just needed to get up the stairs. Feet don't fail me now.

DON'T LET HER ESCAPE

The words roared silently deep in his mind. The command itself didn't cause him any discomfort, apart from a twist of dread in his stomach. He didn't try to fight her as she tore away. He wanted her to get away. The collars didn't have complete control right away. That took time to establish. She might be able to get free. She might not suffer the same way. She could even tell someone, tell Derek and they would...even his ego wouldn't allow him to believe that anyone would try to save him.

The command didn't cause him pain, but resisting it did. There was a moment as he watched her push through the crowd that he thought he might have a chance. All he felt was dread as she pushed through the crowd. Then it was as though someone had jammed a live wire in the back of his skull. He staggered back, almost dropping to his knees, earning him complaints as he knocked into people.

DON'T. LET. HER. ESCAPE!

As if fighting through knee-deep mud, he lurched forward. Someone else commanded his movements. He fought with all he had against it, but the collar had been on too long, he could only slow it down with great pain.

At the same time as Jackson was forced to move, the opposite command was sent to Erica's collar. But trying to control two in such a different manner proved difficult for the mastermind behind the devices. Her legs might grow heavier, but he couldn't stop her completely.

He might not believe that Derek and the others would come back for him, but even with how much they might not get along... There's only so much suffering she'd wish on another person. Especially if it wasn't on her own terms. Vengeance is less sweet when it's tainted with someone else's anger.

The command forces her own steps to falter, crashing into a wall near the stairwell. To anyone passing by, she'd have just looked drunk, leaving her attempts to capture someone's attention for help to fall on deaf ears.

Great. This is just fucking great.

She's been left out as bait by her supposed pack and no one is coming to help her. She can push through it at first, keep moving to the stairs with difficult steps... But it comes at a price. By the time her hands connect with the sleek metal banister, she's panting, fighting the urge to collapse to her knees then and there. She all but bites back a scream when the few stragglers leave her to escape to the party on the dance floor as the DJ starts up one of the latest hits taking over the world.

Rather than giving up, she starts up the stairs on her hands and knees, modesty be damned. She'd rather get through this alive than keep the club from seeing her lacy underwear. It's not like anyone was paying attention to her anyways, she got away. Right?

Oh god, she can only hope she got far enough away because two steps in and forward momentum is practically impossible.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Got you wrapped around my finger, babe...

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject