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Rated: 18+ · Interactive · Adult · #1979869
Men, Monsters, and Machines.
This choice: Monster Male  •  Go Back...
Chapter #2

Steele Swiftpaw

    by: philosophicalmind Author IconMail Icon
Near the back in what was possibly the sweetest spot to park, the best view, stood an orange sports car with two parallel black stripes running down the center of its length. The design was a classic by only a few decades, a coupe with sharp angles instead of sleek curves along its body, looking much like a knife ready to cut with an undoubtedly powerful engine under the hood.

The wielder of this vehicle was very fitting. Sitting in the front seat was a werewolf, smiling toothily as the blood began to spurt from the bodies on screen. He was in his wolf form, humanoid with a canine skull and dull grey fur covering his body ears to neck and all four paws, only a sliver of white ran down from his forehead, between his golden eyes and ended halfway across his muzzle. The rest of his fur-covered body was concealed by clothing, an expensive black sports jacket over a white t-shirt and designer three-quarter jeans complimented by a belt sporting a shining buckle. He was truly dashing on first sight to any of his kind and anyone of the canine persuasion.

He took a moment wonder whether the humans being neatly chopped in half by the lead female's swords were really only special effects. The moves of the villain's genetically enhanced superhumans were impressive, those were definitely fake, but this gorefest had to be real. He chuckled at the comic mewling of a crony who was just disemboweled.

"Come on Steelie, let's get something to eat," his date said from the passenger seat. She was another werewolf with rust colored fur and icy blue eyes. Like many werewolves, she opted to dress less and had no shirt to cover her furred breasts, though for some reason she had on a pair of black cut-offs.

"Later, Bitch," he replied, throwing her a smirk. "We've just gotten to a good part. And don't call me 'Steelie', it's Steele." His eyes went back to the battle. The werewolf named Steele was much too busy shoveling vast amounts of popcorn into his maw as he watched with intent to bother dragging a pair of squirming humans to his car.

"But I can't stand this stuff," his date shook her bag of popcorn, eying it with disgust. "And if you like this scene, I'm surprised you're not hungry for some human too." She didn't really like the scene and the senselessness of it all, and while she preferred her humans whole, it did kind of remind her of her mother's home cooking.

Steele leaned his seat back, stretching his arms and legs out and revealing his frame to be on the short side for a werewolf at just inches shy of eight feet, though it still boasted the naturally thick and powerful muscles of his species, if not more powerful. Another thing his position revealed was the growing bulge in his pants.

"If you're so impatient," Steele chuckled, "then I've got something you can snack on, right here."

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