Bat and Wolf

by Dibokucres

Tags: #cw:noncon #dom:female #m/f #pov:bottom #sub:male #urban_fantasy #vampire #dom:vampire #no_sex_no_nudity #transformation #werewolves

A budding werewolf meets a vampire, who offers to help him in dealing with his transformation. This turns out to be an excellent idea.

This story was inspired by Grayscale: A Whiteout Anthology: The Howling (by Modren).

It is my first attempt at writing prose, so I would really appreciate any feedback. You can reach me here, or anonymously Here.
 
I hope you like reading this story as much as I liked writing it!
A hulking pile of flesh on a barstool turned towards him, fixing him with beady eyes.
“Get out of here, human. We don't want you or your *stench* in here.”
Rage ignited in his chest. If this… thing thought it could intimidate him, it had another thing coming!
“Fuck you”, he spat. “I will gladly make sure you don't smell anything anymore!”
The thing frowned, then growled as it lifted itself upright.
Then, a slender hand appeared on its shoulder.
 
“Sit down, Pat”, a melodious voice called. “Leave the poor human alone.”
Something flickered on the thing's face, and then it slumped down.
He turned towards the woman that had spoken, furious at her intervention.
“"I didn't need your fu-”
Then he noticed her eyes.
 
They were *shockingly* blue. His voice caught in his throat. He couldn't breathe. He struggled to tear his eyes away from hers.
She smiled then, revealing canines that were just a little too long and too sharp to be human.
Vampire.
The thought sent a thrill of fear through his spine, before being replaced with a feverish anger again.
“As much as it pains me to agree with this paragon of eloquence and gentility, she said, patting the thing's back, you do seem to be afflicted with something of a malodorous nature.”
She winked at him.
“Which is to say, human, you stink.”
His anger flared and he drew breath to roar at her.
 
“Careful”, she warned, her eyes flashing.
“I really think you should go and freshen up.”
There was something about her voice that...
He blinked.
He hadn't bathed since… since that... monster had bitten him. Yes. He wasn't going to get anywhere like this. He should go and freshen up. Anger rose again in his chest.
Because he wanted to, because it was a good idea. *Not* because that bloodsucking *freak* had suggested it.
He whirled around and stomped out of the room, her chuckles of amusement burning in his ears.
 
He splashed water into his face, his own bloodshot eyes staring back at him.
“Picking a fight with a troll? Either there is more to you than meets the eye, or you are *really* stupid. Or… maybe both?”
“"You can't be in here”, he ground out, struggling to keep his rage from overwhelming him.
Her laugh tinkled.
“That's funny, usually I'm the one telling people what they can and cannot do.”
 
He whirled on her. She was leaning in the doorway, looking amused.
He took a step towards her, absolutely livid.
“Listen here you-”
“You need to calm down”, she said, her voice taking on that oddly insistent quality again.
His fury sputtered.
Yes, he should-
And then it reignited.
“And you need to get the hell out!”, he roared.
She just smiled at him.
 
“Perhaps you didn't hear me the first time,” she smirked, as she glided over, moving with unearthly elegance.
He was too stunned to react as she grabbed his head and forced his head against hers, their brows touching. Her eyes were all he could see.
“You need to calm down.”
Her eyes flashed and fog rushed in, filling his vision and his mind. Dulling and muting the world. Her eyes were the last thing that he saw, before they too were swallowed by the fog.
 
The fog thickened, smothering him in an unnatural feeling of tranquility.
The throbbing in his head, the dull pain in his bones, the incessant burning rage inside of him. Everything that had kept him from sleeping and tormented his every waking moment for the last two days. It was gone. It was all gone. 
His thoughts slowed down as an inexplicable feeling of bliss came over him.
 
“There, isn't that better?”
She laughed, a lovely musical sound.
“Yeees”, he sighed happily.
She tilted his head to the side, baring his neck as she leaned in.
He was too relaxed to care.
She sniffed.
“Huh… that smell. A… werewolf pup? Never thought I'd ever actually see one of you.”
What a wonderful voice, he thought. He hoped she would speak some more. He wanted to hear more of the voice.
She sniffed again.
“When were you bitten?”
The voice was speaking to him! It filled him with joy. He had to make that voice happy! Maybe then it would speak to him some more.
“Two days ago”, he sighed.
“Good boy.”
A warm glow filled his entire body.
She patted his cheek.
 
The fog evaporated just as quickly as it had engulfed him.
He blinked. 
“What… what was that?", he stammered. "Some kind of hypnosis?”
She laughed.
“That? That was just a little charm.”
She waved her hand dismissively.
“A parlor trick.”
She lightly poked him in the chest with a single finger.
“If I had hypnotized you, you would be kneeling and calling me Mistress right now.”
She laughed, clearly enjoying his discomfort.
“Well, it's good to see that you *can* feel more than just blind rage.”
She winked at him.
“Carmilla, vampire.” She gave a little curtsy.
“Enchanté?”  There was an odd lilt to her tone, almost as if it was a question.
“I do respond to Mistress as well”, she quipped, eyes twinkling with mirth.
 
“John. Werewolf pup, apparently. Nice to meet you, too.”
She chuckled, then turned serious.
“You would do well to be a little more careful.
You were lucky that your older… perfumes… masked your current scent. 
I'm sorry to break it to you, but werewolves are virtually extinct for a reason. It's that whole giant bloody rampage thing that you tend to do. We don't need that kind of attention. 
Putting you down *before* you become near immortal hulking slabs of muscle is just good sense, when you think about it.”
 
He eyed her warily.
“Oh relax, pup, if I wanted you dead I wouldn't have to lift a finger.
You're the most interesting thing that happened around here in decades.”
A brief smile touched her lips.
“But you should scamper off, before someone with a little more common sense figures out what you are going to become. Find some deep hole to go insane in, preferably somewhere remote.”
She frowned.
“Although… Come to think of it, that would be kind of a waste.”
Her face lit up.
“Tell you what, you can join me in my castle.”
“It's pretty remote, there's no one around for you to massacre when you do fly off the handle, as your kind is so fond of doing. 
And unless you suddenly sprout wings, you're not going to be a threat to me either.
At least things won't be boring with you around.”
She laughed, then shook her head.
“As I live nor breathe, an actual real life werewolf. 
I thought the only ones left were…” 
Her eyes widened slightly, then she looked at him again.
“Yeah, you really should come with me to my castle. I could probably even help you.”
Amusement danced in her eyes.
 
“Thanks, but no thanks,” he said. He wasn't *that* desperate yet.
He searched her eyes, wondering if she was actually being sincere with her offer.
Her eyes flashed again and words boomed through his head. It was an address.
“Just in case you change your mind,” she teased, as her eyes returned to normal.
She winked.
“I wouldn't want you to accidentally forget where to find me, after all.
Run along now, pup. I'll be seeing you again soon enough, I'm sure.”
She leaned back, still partially blocking his way.
He squeezed past her, careful not to meet those terrible eyes of hers again.
He could hear her laughing in amusement as he ran out the door.
 
He kept running all the way home, determined to avoid her like the plague. Fucking bloodsucker, messing with his head. He collapsed onto his bed, feeling more tired than he'd ever been. He'd have a good night's sleep, and figure out a new plan of attack in the morning.
 
Sleep wouldn't come. He couldn't get the sight of her eyes out of his mind. The way she had grabbed his head, forced him to look into her eyes. He imagined her saying it. Commanding him to look into her eyes. He pictured her incredible eyes in front of him. Falling into those blue pools as her wonderful voice rang in his ears. Telling him to submit. Kneeling and calling her Mistress. He masturbated furiously and made a terrible mess of his bedding. Fucking vampire, he thought, before sleep finally took him. He dreamed about her eyes.
 
He awoke with the sun shining in his face. He was sweating and his head throbbed. Whatever she had done to him had clearly worn off. He was still feeling miserable… but… he had finally actually slept. He wasn't as exhausted anymore. He sniffed and groaned. He positively reeked. He took a long, hot, shower and cleaned himself thoroughly.
His body ached all over… and yet..  he felt better than he had in the last few days.
Perhaps he should take the vampire up on her offer after all?
 
He was suddenly inexplicably furious. The bloodsucking bitch! She had tempted him with something he desperately needed. Dangled it like a carrot in front of him, to get him to do what she wanted.
Well he wasn't going to play her game. He'd track her down and force her to do that thing with her eyes again. He'd show her who was boss!
Still fuming, he got into his car and drove off, towards an address that was etched into his mind.
 
She hadn't been kidding when she said her castle was remote. This was the middle of nowhere!
He got out of his car and banged on the door. Waited. Banged on it again.
Finally, the door opened.
She was barefoot, dressed in a negligee.
She yawned.
“Geez, human, what part of 'creature of the night' don't you understand?”
The sun was shining high overhead.
She yawned again.
 
The sight of her enraged him. His head pounded.
“You! He shouted. I need-”
Her eyes flashed and a cold fog blew through him, smothering his fury just as quickly as it had ignited. Numbing his pain.
“It's too *early* for shouting,” she groaned.
“Come on in. Make yourself at home. Mi castle es su castle.”
She smiled lazily.
“Just… try to be quiet, all right?
I will join you at a more decent hour.”
With that, she turned around and stalked up the stairs.
“Uhm… thanks,” he called after her.
She waved her hand at him without looking back, leaving him standing in the doorway, befuddled.
 
He went inside and entered what must be the living room. He looked around. A comfortable looking sofa. An enormous fireplace. Towering bookcases. Some of the books looked quite old. She had quite an impressive collection. And an ornate chess board. Interesting that. He picked a book at random and sat down to read.
 
By the time she entered the room an hour or two later, his skin had already started itching again.
“I apologize for my rudeness earlier. I'm afraid you caught me at a bad time. I don't need a lot of sleep, but the sun always gets me feeling so *languid*.”
She smiled faintly. “So, I sleep it off.”
He didn't reply. This burning rage that had been plaguing him was back, but he had to hold it back. She might actually be able to help him, and he'd come to realize there was no way he was ever going to force her to do anything. If he lashed out again and she lost patience with him…
 
“Are you doing all right?” she asked with some concern.
He shook his head. 
She sighed.
“It's what, three more weeks until the full moon? Unlucky timing, that. I've read about the transformation process of werewolves, but I had no idea it was so bad so early on.”
She touched her hand to his forehead. It was cool, but not nearly as cold as he was expecting.
“My charm already wore off entirely, huh?”
He nodded.
“I was afraid of that. It's only going to get worse as you get closer to transforming. An enraged animal doesn't have a lot of mind left to cont- ain.”
 
“No matter, like I said, what I did so far were just parlor tricks.
But that’s not why you came to me… is it?”
She was suddenly uncomfortably close, her breasts pushing into his chest, pinning him down.
“Tell me… why have you come here?”
He was dimly aware of something at the back of his mind growling, but his attention was completely fixed on her.
“What is it… that you would like me… to do to you?”
His breath hitched in his throat. 
“Please, ” he whimpered.
Her right hand was on his cheek, gently guiding his face to look at her.
He met her electric blue eyes and his heart skipped a beat.
“Say it, ” she coaxed.
“Please… hypnotize me,” he whispered.
His heart was pounding in his chest. He trembled with anticipation.
“Well then…. look into my eyes,” she said softly.
He'd dreamed about this moment. Had longed for it, wanted it more than he had ever wanted anything before. It was even better than he had imagined.
Her eyes shimmered and he felt like he was falling.
A low moan escaped his lips as oblivion took him.
Someone laughed in amusement, somewhere very far away. The last thing he registered was the thing at the back of his mind snarling impotently.
 
The days went by in a blur.
He had resigned himself to merciless mockery and teasing, the cost of a reprieve from the pain. She did the latter expertly. 
She hypnotized him every evening, without mockery or complaint. She even taught him to imagine her eyes and guide himself into trance so he could get relief when she was out.
And...  he was surprised to find she was actually quite pleasant to be around. He quickly found he actually missed her company when he lunched alone as she slept.
 
They spent entire evenings chatting, late into the night. She enjoyed telling stories and anecdotes, and delighted in correcting his misconceptions about historical events. She found devilish joy in trying to convince him of the most outrageous things with utmost sincerity, seeing how long it took him to find out she was yanking his chain. 
And she loved hearing tales of his travels, always listening with rapt attention, eager to discover more about places she'd never been. 
She was easy to talk to, clever and had an absolutely wicked sense of humor. She also played a mean game of chess. Unfortunately, he *had* been quite right about the teasing.
 
“I'm going to get a glass of water, do you want anything?”
“Nah, I'm good,” she replied.
He got up from the sofa.
He hadn't made it five steps towards the kitchen before she called out to him.
“Hey, wait up.”
He stopped, looking at her uncertainly as she walked up to him.
She stopped right in front of him, smiling as he looked away, blushing.
She gently grabbed his chin and tilted it back towards her face.
He was struck once again by how utterly gorgeous her eyes were.
A deep, mesmerizing blue.
He was captivated, holding his breath as he stared into her eyes.
“Kneel,” she whispered.
He sank to his knees, his attention still riveted to her eyes.
She leaned in.
Her eyes were all he could see.
“Good boy.”
She laughed and walked away.
“That… that wasn't funny,” he sputtered as he got off his knees again.
She turned around again, smiling broadly.
“Oh, I beg to differ.”
“You can't… you can't just do that to me,” he protested, blushing heavily.
She got a little closer to him, fixing him with her dazzling blue gaze again. His head swam.
“Oh darling,” she purred. “I hardly did a thing. That was all you.”
“Besides, don't tell me that you didn't enjoy it,” she said, as she very lightly, almost accidentally, brushed her fingers against his throbbing erection as she walked away, chuckling to herself.
He just stood there, stupefied.
What the hell just happened?
 
That night, he dreamed of her eyes again.
Of kneeling in front of her as she hypnotized him.
About her telling him to submit. To obey.
About mindlessly chanting mantras as she filled his empty mind with her instructions.
He awoke with an embarrassing mess in his briefs.
 
As time went on, his condition worsened. The wolf inside him was getting stronger. She taught him how to ignore it, to repress it. It helped, but it wasn't enough.
He started needing her to hypnotize him more and more. She did so without comment, uncharacteristically, without even teasing him about it. She just nodded, turned her impossible eyes on him and took the pain away. Before long, he was spending a large part of the time he was awake in a trance, sometimes with her murmuring into his ear, sometimes not. 
When she wasn't around, he often pictured her eyes in his mind. He imagined letting the sound of her voice take him deeper. And when he was sleeping, he dreamed about her eyes. About all the things she could do to him while he was under her spell, entirely at her mercy. About how she would condition him to the sound of her voice. Condition him to obey her every instruction. Believe her every word. About how she would implant hidden instructions as he lay there listening to her words, not registering them but letting them slip directly into his mind. He knew she would never actually do any of those things. He could trust her. But he couldn't stop his imagination running wild. He awoke to a mess every single morning.
 
The beast inside him snarled and he snarled with it, lashing out with fingernails that were suddenly far too long.
She recoiled, barely managing to dodge his blow.
With tremendous effort, he forced the beast inside back down again. He was breathing hard, his heart thumping in his chest. 
He apologized profusely, but she waved away, dismissively.
She claimed she was fine, but shock was written all over her face.
She chuckled, but it sounded forced.
“The beast really doesn't like it when I hypnotize you. I was just surprised at how strong it had gotten.”
She chuckled again, more genuinely this time, shaking her head.
“Vampires and werewolves, we really don't get along.”
She sighed.
“I can’t keep doing this. It’s getting too dangerous.
I'm sorry, I've done what I could.”
 
“What now?,” he rasped.
His veins were fire.
She sighed.
“Come full moon, your body will transform and you will probably lose your mind in the process. Werewolves almost always go insane during their first transformation.”
Her tone became lecturing.
“There are three ways it ends.
Most just become an insane raging beast and stay that way, until they get hunted down sooner or later to put an end to their rampages. Some go mad but manage to recover some measure of sanity as they adjust. Some even manage to return to a human form, but they all vanish into the wilderness and hide. It's hard to say how lucid any of them still are. When you encounter a werewolf, you don't try to talk to it, you run. And then return with an army. If there’s any left at all in the wild, they are incredibly well hidden.”
 
“According to what I read, the ones that make it, manage to lock themselves away somehow, shackling themselves to a wall, for example. To avoid rampaging as they go insane. That seems to be crucial, to have any chance at sanity afterwards.”
 
He frowned. 
“You said there was a third way?”
She smiled.
“Oh, that's so rare I shouldn't even have mentioned it.
Don't worry about it,” she said, lightly brushing her hand over his chest. 
Yes, it wasn't important.
The wolf snarled and he didn't know why.
 
“There's… still one thing we could try.
I could save my strength and try hypnotizing you one last time as you transformed. To keep you in a trance for the duration of your transformation. Keep you from rampaging.
It would incredibly difficult. Werewolves are notoriously resistant to hypnosis. It enrages them.
But if you and I worked together, if you managed to hold the beast back, actively pushed to go into trance… we might be able to pull it off.
She swallowed.
“But… if you...if you didn’t manage to do your part… you'd probably kill me before I had the chance to get away.”
 
“Oh,” he said.
“Yeah…”
“I know I have no right to ask this of you… but… you're kind of my only hope.”
“It's all right,” she said. “I understand.” She sighed. “I will give it a shot. “
She looked him directly in the eyes. “I trust you.”
He blushed. “I will do everything I can to make it work.”
“I know you will”, she said. “But I can't make any promises about the outcome.
It would be best if you prepared yourself as if these were your last moments as yourself.
I can’t do anything else for you. I will come fetch you when it’s time.
I am… sorry. I wish it didn’t have to be this way.”
“Could you just sit with me on the sofa?
Everything hurts… but… somehow I feel better when I'm with you.”
She grimaced, then sighed.
It was clear she wasn't looking forward to what was coming either.
“All right,” she said.
 
He didn't know how long he sat on the sofa, lying in her arms.
Everything hurt. His head was pounding. He felt feverish and delirious.
She was stroking his back. Murmuring softly into his ear. Saying that everything was all right. It helped. Her presence was comforting and soothing. He was grateful.
He turned his head to look at her.
She gave him a wan smile.
She was distracted. Struggling with some demons of her own. He hoped she didn't change her mind.
He closed his eyes and tried to focus on the sound of her voice.
He slipped into a delirious half sleep.
 
He was roused again as he heard her take a deep breath. He saw her steel herself. She must have made up her mind.
It's time, she whispered, some undefinable emotion in her voice.
His head felt like it was going to burst.
Lie back, she said, as she came to sit astride him.
Ready?
He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly.
Just in case that this goes wrong and I lose my mind...
“I … I just wanted to say that I really appreciate what you've done for me. You have made this terrible affliction bearable. And I know you are taking a big risk for me now. I promise I will try my hardest. Just… Thank you. For everything.”
Something flashed on her face.
“Don't mention it,” she mumbled, looking away.
Guilt?
He looked away, wondering.
What would she-
He vaguely registered that she turned those magnificent electric blue eyes towards him again.
 
“Look into my eyes.”
His eyes instantly snapped to hers.
They were already shimmering.
He briefly wondered why he had so quickly obeyed her, before all worries faded from his mind.
An image of a pool floated into his mind, just like it had so many times before.
But this time, he wasn't automatically sinking into it. It was up to him now. She was counting on him. He stepped into the pool, straining against some invisible force trying to hold him back. The wonderfully familiar feeling of relaxation washed over him.
Numbing his itching skin, his aching teeth. Stilling the pounding in his head. 
Making him feel relaxed. Calm.
But… there was something else there too.
Some vague and inexplicable feeling of… dread.
It was probably because stakes were a lot higher this time.
He couldn't screw this up. He owed it to her.
Still… something was different.
It was the animal in his head, he realized.
It was always furious when he went into a trance.
But… it was absolutely livid now, spitting and snarling.
It wanted him to fail, he figured.
Well, he'd show it who was boss.
 
He tried to ignore the beast in his head, push it back to some dark corner of his mind, just as she had taught him.
It was a lot more difficult than usual. The wolf was insane with rage, and it had grown so very strong. It fought him with manic strength.
He tried pushing deeper into the pool. The thing was fighting him, trying to hold him back.
Trying to keep him from going deeper. But he had to. He had to go deeper. She needed him to.
So he pulled against it, with every ounce of his mental strength.
Something inside him was pulling taut, as he wrestled with the beast inside, trying to hold him back. The strain became unbearable, threatening to overwhelm him.
Then, something snapped and the image of the pool suddenly disappeared from his mind.
 
He could only see her eyes. 
Shimmering. Rippling.
He could still hear the beast.
Snarling and spitting and screaming in rage.
Demanding him to lash out, to rip and tear and destroy.
It threatened to drown out that wonderful voice.
He had to ignore it. He had to focus on what mattered.
Focus on her eyes.
Tune out all other distractions.
He only had to listen to her voice.
Listen to her voice and look into her eyes.
Her eyes.
Dazzling and mesmerising.
But it was hard.
Every instinct told him to look away.
He ignored it all and *focused* on her eyes. Willing himself to fall into them.
They were breathtakingly gorgeous. Haunting. Enthralling.
They reminded him of a roaring blue fire.
Entrancing, captivating and alluring.
Warm and comforting.
Dangerous.
 
He *pushed* himself to look deeper.
He felt a pleasant numbness come over him.
Her eyes really were awesome.
But… why did he feel like he kept inching closer to the edge of some terrible cliff?
Focus focus focus.
He had to focus.
Focus on her eyes.
 
Her eyes were drawing him in.
Beckoning him.
He had to look deeper into her eyes.
He almost felt like he was falling into them.
Her pupils were like vast pits. 
Pitch black and infinitely fascinating.
He longed to let himself drift down into those pits.
He wondered what he would find at the bottom.
Some part of him knew that he wouldn't be escaping once he started floating down.
But that was all right. 
He was safe with her.
He could let himself go and float down.
He wanted to.
But something was holding him back.
He was. 
He was keeping himself from floating down into the darkness.
Just barely.
He had to let go.
And so... very consciously, very deliberately... he did.
 
An indescribable feeling of bliss came over him.
He had done good.
He felt himself floating away. 
Floating down.
Finally completely loose and untethered.
It felt absolutely wonderful.
He was like a leaf on the wind.
Carried along on the currents of her voice.
Drifting lazily.
Drifting lazily into the endless depths of her pupils.
The darkness called to him and he followed.
I'm like a moth being drawn to a flame, he mused, idly.
Unbidden, an image of a moth bursting into flame flashed through his mind.
Just for a fraction of a second.
It was enough to make him aware again of a sound, somewhere in the depths of his mind.
The animal inside him was still screaming.
It barely even registered.
It was just a fact like so many others. 
He ignored it, just like he ignored so many things all the time.
It just wasn't important.
But he could still vaguely make out the sound, somewhere far in the distance.
It sounded different now.
 
Fear.
Sheer, raw, terror.
It was infectious.
Suddenly, her pupils were two black holes.
Sucking at him, hungrily.
Something was wrong.
Going into trance with her had never felt this way before.
He wasn't floating anymore.
He was hurtling down into the depths of her eyes.
Freefalling.
It felt like he was losing pieces of himself along the way.
Like his mind was dissolving.
His name. What was his name?!
His thoughts were becoming slow and sluggish.
He wanted… he wanted to… submit? Obey?
Something was most definitely very, very wrong.
 
“Help me,” he groaned out.
“But I am helping you,” she replied.
“I *am* helping you. Just look into my eyes.”
Her voice was a balm for his soul. 
So soothing and calming.
What had he been worried about?
Everything was perfectly fine.
But...
She's grinning she's grinning she's grinning.
 
Panic surged, bubbling up through the molasses that was his mind.
“Please,” he forced out. “Please don't…”
“But you want this.
Look into my eyes.
You want to *give in*.
You want to *submit*.
You want to *obey*.”
He desperately tried to do something… anything.
The screaming in his head was growing faint and stuttering now, the last few struggles of a desperate animal on its last legs.
It cut out. It was gone. The animal was gone.
Another image flashed through his mind. The pool. It was quicksand. He was mired in it. He had let himself sink too deep and now he was stuck. And the more he struggled, the deeper he sank.
And it felt good to sink.
Sinking deeper and deeper and deeper.
He gathered all his strength for one giant, final effort.
 
“Please! I'm begging you!”
“Sshhhh.”
Oblivion was all around him.
“Sshhhhh. Just give in.”
There was only her voice. 
Telling him to give in. 
To sink.
To submit. 
To obey.
Another image flashed through his mind.
Shackles.
Thousands upon thousands of shackles, locking shut.
He felt numb. Empty.
“I…I…,” he managed.
“Don't worry, it will all be over soon.”
 
She grabbed both sides of his face and forced his brow against hers, spreading her eyes open even wider.
They loomed up in the darkness of his mind.
Oh God, those terrible eyes of hers.
They were everywhere where he tried to look.
He couldn't escape her eyes.
Those relentless, hypnotic eyes of hers.
Was he even looking away at all?
Or were his eyes just glued to hers?
He was so dizzy.
The world was spinning around him.
Swirling around and around and around.
He didn't know which direction was up or down anymore 
He was losing himself in her eyes.
Her eyes, oh God her eyes.
They just kept growing larger and larger in his mind.
Shimmering and shining.
No matter how he tried, he couldn't look away.
No no no no no.
He had to! He had to-
“Look. Into. My. Eyes.”
Every word was a bell tolling, resonating in his mind.
Sending it spinning all over again.
He had to look into her eyes.
Yes, that was it.
“Look. Into. My. Eyes,” she repeated.
He had a sudden sensation of losing his balance.
Of toppling over and falling.
Falling and falling and falling.
And just as quickly, it was gone again.
Replaced by the feeling of plunging into a pool.
 
Cool, soothing water surrounding him.
It felt great. He was calm. Relaxed.
All he had to do was gaze into her eyes.
And her eyes were so very beautiful. 
Mesmerizingly pretty .
It felt *wonderful* to look into her eyes and just let his thoughts drift.
Drifting out of his head.
She had a really lovely voice too.
Like warm honey trickling into his ears.
This was heavenly.
Gazing into her incredible eyes.
Listening to her melodious voice.
He could tell she was still speaking, but it was getting hard to make out what she was saying.
But that was all right.
He could just listen and enjoy the *sound* of her voice.
Some other part of him would listen and understand.
He could just relax and let go.
It felt amazing to let go.
A big goofy grin spread over his face.
There was the sound of musical laughter, somewhere very far away.
He hadn't felt this wonderful or relaxed in years.
He was just a little sleepy.
Such a lovely voice, he thought, as another wave of lethargy rolled over him.
More than a little sleepy.
He could barely keep his eyes open.
He should go to sleep.
He could just keep listening to her as he slept.
Darkness took him.
But that was all right too.
 
His body felt wrong. Everything felt wrong.
What happened?
Where was he?
He was in Mistre-
What the fuck?
She wasn't his Mistress, her name was… Mistress.
What the fuck??!
“Welcome back, Pet.”
Wide eyed and panicking, he turned around.
“What the fuck did you do to me,” he demanded.
“Sshhhh. You don't speak when Mistress is speaking. It's rude.
When Mistress speaks, you *listen*.”
His mouth snapped shut on its own accord.
A deep pit opened in his stomach.
He was well and thoroughly screwed.
 
“So... about that third thing that happens to werewolves...
In some very, *very* rare cases… a werewolf gets turned into a vampire's thrall. They make for *fantastic* bodyguards.
You see, a normal werewolf, when they turn, animal instinct takes over. They are incredibly strong and borderline impossible to kill, but they are ultimately basically animals. Controlled by their instincts. Predictable. Afraid of fire.
But a werewolf *thrall*… it doesn't fear anything.  It *obeys*. It is the perfect killing machine. The perfect bodyguard to protect us while we sleep.”
 
“The only issue is that a werewolf is almost impossible to enthrall. The instinct, it just takes over, and that usually ends with vampire paste. So it needs to happen during the very first transformation, when the human first becomes a werewolf, but it is still at the weakest it ever gets.
And even then, it takes a human strong enough to hold back their werewolf instincts as they are being enthralled... and  well… stupid enough to want to do so in the first place.”
 
“I suppose I should thank you for your cooperation. You really were very helpful. If anything, I underestimated how difficult it is to enthrall a werewolf. I would say it is impossible, if I hadn't just done it.
But credit where credit is due, I couldn't have done it without you, not in a million years.
You have done an absolutely... magnificent... job of leashing yourself.
You're really quite strong willed.”
She chuckled.
“It would have gone quite badly for me I think, if you had been just a little more hesitant, if you'd have pushed yourself just a little bit less.
I'd honestly be impressed, if you weren't also so utterly gullible and stupid.”
 
Rage clouded his vision.
That fucking b… b… Mistress.
FUCK!
“Awww. Does that make my little puppy angry?
Knowing that he would never have been in this situation if he hadn't been *extraordinarily* stupid?”
He bellowed, a wordless, animalistic expression of rage and frustration.
Her fingers went
*SNAP*.
 
What just happened?
He blinked.
He felt exhausted, like a fire had just raged through his body.
Why had he been…?
The vampire!
He whirled around as her laughter tinkled.
“Looks like my triggers work just fine, even when you're in a rage.
It's good to see I got my hooks in nice and deep.”
She leaned in, peering into his eyes.
“Yes, this is going to work out juuust fine.”
He swallowed. He should be angry at what she did… at what she was going to do… but…
He didn't have any more anger in him. He just felt… burnt out. He had liked her, *really* liked her, trusted her more than he trusted himself and she had betrayed him. 
She smiled at him then, a brilliant smile, lighting up her entire face.
 
“I trusted you,” he whispered.
“Yeah? And how did that work out for you?,” she snapped, clearly annoyed.
“Did you think I was some kind of fucking charity?
That I would help you why, because of the goodness of my heart?
I'm a *vampire*. I am a *predator*. Turning people into our thralls is what my kind *do*.”
She sighed.
“I can't believe how green you are.”
Did she pity him?
“Look, I will get you through your turning, but you *are* going to be my thrall.
See it as my price for helping you, if you like.
I will be a good Mistress, I promise.
You will *like* being on my leash.”
 
“You can't seriously mean to ask me to be your servant for the rest of my life?”
“I'm not *asking* anything,” she snapped. 
“You *will* be my thrall
And it's hardly unfair. You wouldn't last the week without me. I will be giving you much more than I will take.”
“You can't know that!,” he pleaded. 
“Let me go! Let me at least try.”
 
“Pup, you don't even know what you are asking for.
It's going to get a *lot* worse before it starts getting better. What I did, it slowed down your transformation. But you are still changing, you will probably reach your final wolf form in a week or so. You couldn't even handle the beast when you were still fully human."
She was suddenly furious.
“The only reason, the *only* reason you are still lucid at all right now, is because you're under my control. And you have the *gall* to complain!”
She calmed down, sighed again.
“If I let you go, you'll just spend weeks in unimaginable agony. You will most probably stay a mindless animal until you get put down.”
 
“Still better than becoming a thrall,” he growled, glaring at her. 
“I will take my chances.”
Something hardened in her expression.
“No,” she said, her shimmering eyes suddenly growing impossibly large in his mind.
“You won't.”
*SNAP*
 
A searing pain awoke him from his haze.
His arms were covered in fur and his head was pounding.
“Are you OK, Pet?” she asked, as she walked over to him.
A blistering rage ignited in him, making him see red.
His muscles bulged as he advanced on her.
“I will tear out your spine!” he slurred, through a mouth that felt wrong.
“ will rip off your limbs! Tear you apart, piece by piece!”
 
“Will you now?” she smirked, arching a single eyebrow as she raised her arm.
Her fingers! She is going to-
He lunged.
*SNAP*
 
When he came to, he was on his knees.
The first thing he realized was that her eyes were *magnificent*.
How long had he been-
She released his chin.
“Are you feeling better now?”
He frowned.
How *was* he feeling?
He had been terribly angry about something.
He had a vague idea that she had done something to him… but… he didn't really care about it anymore… or remember exactly what it was.
“Yes, Mistress.”
She smiled at him, a brilliant, radiant smile that made him feel warm and fuzzy inside.
“Good boy,” she purred, giving him a quick scratch behind his ears. 
A low moan escaped his lips as orgasmic bliss made its way down his spine.
Her smile widened.
“Just go to sleep, Pet,” she whispered into his ear.
A wave of lethargy came over him then.
His body felt sluggish. His thoughts came at a snail's pace. His eyes drifted shut.
He was dimly aware that she was whispering more things to him, but he was too tired to register them.
 
He moaned.
His body felt wrong.
There was fur everywhere.
Everything smelled too faintly and too strongly at the same time.
Everything hurt.
Where was he?
Who was he?
The sound of footsteps.
He groaned.
A woman.
She was saying something, but his delirious mind had trouble piecing it together.
“… Pet? Are … ou … kay?”
“Who… who am I,” he groaned out.
She took hold of his snout and tilted it towards her face.
“Oh you are so confused.
Let me help you.
Look into my eyes.”
He wasn't sure if he should.
She was… she was… she *smelled* wrong.
She leaned in closer, bringing her face right in front of his.
He looked down.
“Look into my eyes,” she repeated, gently.
He hesitated still.
“Ohhh Pet. I didn't realize you needed my help so badly.”
She sounded compassionate.
“Just listen to my voice then. 
I will explain things to you.
I am your Mistress, Pet.
You submit to me. You obey me.
You remember, don't you?”
Yes… yes, he remembered.
She was called Mistress. He… submitted… to her. Obeyed her.
Submitting. Obeying.
The thoughts felt strange. Alien. *Wrong*.
He growled at her, uncertainly.
“Oh my poor little Pet. You're suffering some kind of delirium.
It's all right. I will help you... but you *have* to look into my eyes.
You do remember looking into my eyes, right?”
Yes. That, at least, made sense.
He did remember looking into her eyes before.
And her voice was so gentle. So soothing. 
It must be all right, after all.
She lowered her forehead onto his brow.
She was so very gentle with him. Such a kind person, this Mistress.
“Look into my eyes, Pet,” she coaxed again.
And he did.
He remembered those eyes.
Shimmering in front of him. Sinking down into them.
They were shimmering now, too. Glowing with power.
“Look into my eyes, Pet.”
She didn't sound even remotely gentle anymore. This was a command. To be obeyed.
Something inside him gave.
He sighed happily, his tongue rolling out.
Mistress made a lovely, musical sound.
She was speaking again.
Yes. Whatever she was doing, it *was* helping.
His thoughts were becoming more clear.
She was his *Mistress*. He was her Pet.
He submitted and he obeyed.
He had to say it. So he did.
That pleased his Mistress.
He told her again.
He submitted and he obeyed.
And again.
He submitted and he obeyed.
The confusion was gone. Everything was crystal clear now.
She was his Mistress. He was her Pet.
He submitted and he obeyed.
Her eyes grew larger in his mind.
I am so lucky to have such a wonderful, caring, helpful Mistress, he thought, as darkness took him.
 
He awoke to a blistering, white hot rage.
It was devastating. Purifying. Cleansing.
Cleansing the cobwebs from his mind.
His body was on fire, but the pain felt good.
That upstart little bloodsucker was doing something to him.
Turning him into her pet! Like he was some kind of dog.
Him! He was a *wolf*! 
He heard the bloodsucking thing in the distance.
In one fluid movement, he whirled and launched himself into the air, monstrous paws extending to land on all fours.
*SNAP*
The world suddenly jerked sideways and he crashed into a heap.
There was a ringing in his ears.
He rolled upright and bellowed as he launched himself towards the thing again.
It looked worried. No wonder. It was tiny. Fragile. He'd shatter its spine with a single swipe.
*SNAP*
It was like a sledgehammer blow to his head.
His eyes unfocused for a moment and he stumbled as one of his legs briefly gave out. He tried bellowing once more, but it sounded feeble to his ears.
*SNAP*
His legs didn't work right. His head was spinning. 
He stumbled again as his knees buckled, caught himself.
It… she… didn't look worried anymore.
She looked… intense, walking over to him.
That wasn't prey! That was a predator! And he was… he was...
His rage was gone, replaced with some strange, alien emotion.
Fear.
He had to get away.
He took a hesitant step back.
She smiled predatorily, a hungry grin.
*SNAP*
His knees buckled again, he had to drop to one knee to steady himself.
His eyes unfocused once more, it took him longer to refocus this time.
His head was swimming. The world was spinning around him.
She was getting closer.
Run run run run run.
His legs wouldn't work. He couldn't lift them anymore.
He mewled in fear.
*SNAP*
He crashed to his knees and couldn't get up.
His body didn't work right. Like it was mired in mud. He couldn't think straight 
He couldn't focus his eyes at all. Everything was blurry and hazy.
He blinked. Blinked again.
She was right in front of him!
Why was it so hard to think?
He had to… he had to...
He felt, rather than saw her squat in front of him.
Something was hovering right in front of his face.
It was too blurry to make out.
He blinked again. Finally he managed to focus on it.
It was her hand. Her fingers, she-
*SNAP*
He blacked out for a moment, only barely managing to keep his eyes open through some herculean effort.
There was some musical sound coming from far away.
His head lolled. 
Thoughts wouldn't come.
He was dimly aware of his head being grabbed in a vice-like grip.
And then…. He only saw eyes.
His mind came apart.
 
The time passed in a haze.
He was dimly aware of looking into her eyes. Of listening to her words. Of falling and drifting and submitting. Over and over again.
 
He awoke with a start.
That fucking vampire!
She had done something to his mind!
Enslaved him, turned him into her personal pet!
How dare she! He would find her and rip out her throat for this! He would-.
No.
He remembered what happened last time he tried confronting her.
She would just snap her fingers or turn those terrible eyes on him and that would be it for him.
He had to escape. Run away to some place where she could never find him.
He pricked up his ears.
She wasn't around!
He was sure of it.
Probably off sucking blood somewhere.
If he wanted to run, he had to run NOW.
 
He exploded from the carpet, ran towards the front door, threw it open and ran straight into her eyes.
Her eyes.
Already shimmering and shifting.
A trap! She was… she...
His mind ground to a halt.
Such pretty eyes.
Pretty, pretty eyes.
Mistress' eyes.
“Where are you going, Pet?”
The words rang around in his head.
Pet was confused.
Surely she knew? Pet only went where Mistress told to him go, after all.
Pet didn't think, Pet only obeyed.
“Down, Pet. You were going down.”
Her eyes swallowed his whole world, and Pet knew no more.
 
He awakened with his head in Mistress' lap.
She was running her fingers through his fur.
She was saying something.
“...making such good progress, Pet 
Already thinking about running away instead of only understanding violence.”
Pet didn't get what Mistress was talking about.
But..  It sounded like praise.
Mistress was happy with him.
And so, he was happy, too.
He went back to sleep.
 
Pet opened his eyes.
Listened.
She was gone again.
The door was even open.
Should he run away?
No. It was pointless.
He couldn't escape his Mistress.
And… if he was really honest with himself… he didn't even want to.
He closed his eyes again.
“Good boy.”
The voice of his Mistress, right in his ear.
She ruffled through the fur on his head.
A warm glow spread in his chest.
Pet was content.
He slept.
 
He was confused.
He had a sudden feeling that the world was wrong.
It smelled dull. Sounded muted.
His body was too small and too weak.
The feeling passed.
His head cleared.
Those memories belonged to someone else.
To Pet. He wasn't Pet.
He was…
A thrall.
He opened his eyes.
He was lying in bed.
The most gorgeous woman he had ever seen was lying next to him.
Incredible eyes.
They were watching him.
That was his Mistress, he realized.
He was a thrall and she was his Mistress.
He had to serve her. Obey her in all things.
Her hand was on his chest.
It felt… nice.
There was something else.
Something he knew instinctively.
She had saved him. He couldn't remember how or from what. It didn't even make sense. A voice in his head told him it didn't matter. That he only had to serve. Only had to obey.
He disagreed. 
She had *saved* him.
His Mistress was wonderful, and that mattered to him very much.
Something inside him stirred.
Sime deeply buried memories. Nothing more than shattered fragments.
Laughter. A radiant smile. Being cradled in her lap. A lovely voice telling him that he was going to be all right.
A flash of insight.
He *loved* her!
He smiled languidly.
Serving her was going to be no effort at all.
A flash of anguish crossed her face.
For the first time, he noticed that she looked... sad.
The voice told him that it didn't matter. He only had to serve. He only had to obey. He ignored it.
“It's all right,” he ventured, hesitantly.
She started crying.
He held her in his arms as she sobbed.
“It's all right,” he tried again.
She faced him then, wiping away her tears.
He wondered why she had been crying.
Then her eyes started shimmering and he wondered about nothing at all anymore.
 
They were having breakfast together.
He caught the shimmering in her eyes dying away.
He glared at her.
“I remember what you did, Carmilla,” he snapped.
“Do you now?”
She sounded amused.
“I should hope so, after I went through all that trouble of burying your memories instead of simply wiping them.”
What?
She leaned forward, looking intently into his eyes.
They flashed.
“Tell me… Pet… what do you *remember*”
Remember… remember… remember.
The word echoed in his head.
And he did.
Meeting her in the bar.
Driving to her castle.
Being hypnotized every single evening for days on end as she helped him sleep.
Spending more and more time in trance to escape the pain.
The flash of guilt on her face.
Begging her to stop as she shackled his mind and his will.
Lashing out at her and his mind dropping away.
Her goading him into blistering rages before snuffing them out.
Being dropped into trance... again and again and again.
He remembered crawling over to her, mewling in agony, every nerve on fire, before she took the pain away.
He remembered her eyes, terrible and beautiful, swallowing him whole.
Her voice, endlessly pouring words directly into his mind, as her eyes drilled into him.
Mindlessly chanting whatever she told him to, as he kneeled before her, hopelessly lost in her eyes.
He remembered dozing in her lap as she idly ran her fingers through his hair, murmuring into his ears.
Bounding through the fields on all fours in the moonlight, the wind rushing by, as she clung to his back, whooping with joy.
Lying next to her in bed, feeling content and happy, just gazing into her wonderful eyes.
He remembered.
“You… you…,” he sputtered.
“You said you would help me, and you *brainwashed* me!”
 
“I said that I probably could help, not that I would,” she replied testily.
“And yes, I did. It worked, didn't it? Seeing as you're not a snarling, slobbering mindless animal right now, and can even change back to your human form, I don't think you have all that much to complain about.
Would you rather have been shackled to the wall instead?”
“No… but… was turning me into your pet really necessary?”
“Necessary? Probably not. Fun? Most definitely.
Besides, don't act like there wasn't a part of you that enjoyed it.”
He squirmed. Touché.
 
A thought struck him.
“Say, what happened to getting your own personal werewolf thrall? Were just pretending to get me angry?”
She looked away.
“I was actually doing it, you know.
You pretty much already were a thrall, for all intents and purposes. I only still had to make it permanent.”
She sounded… ashamed.
“Making someone into my thrall … it's in my nature. “
Her impossible eyes suddenly flicked towards him again. Electricity coursed through him. He was a deer, caught in her headlights. She stared at him intently.
“You were asking me to hypnotize you! You offered yourself to me on a silver platter and thought I would not take advantage?! What kind of self control did you think I had?!”
A werewolf thrall. She shook her head, disbelieving. 
“Elder vampires have plunged entire countries into war for the slimmest chance of getting one. There are like *ten*, in the entire *world*.
And I-”
She ran her hands through her hair, exhaling slowly, before meeting his eyes again..
Looking at him earnestly.
“I loved breaking your resistance. Your anger was... nothing to me. I would probably have gotten over it if you had grown to hate me.
But… when you were looking at me with such devotion in your eyes…”
She sighed.
“I couldn't go through with it anymore.”
She grimaced.
“So... I did something extraordinarily stupid too.
But… I was kind of hoping that you might want to stick around... out of your own free will.
I know some part of you enjoyed what I did to you. Not simply giving me control, but having me wrestle it away from you, forcibly. Enjoyed it a lot, actually.”
He blushed deeply and looked away.
She gently put a hand on his cheek, comforting him.
He wasn't sure if he looked back at her out of his own accord or if she guided him to.
He found himself looking into her mesmerizing eyes again.
“It's nothing to be ashamed about. 
We could explore that part of you some more… together. If you'd like.”
She withdrew her hand again, lightly resting it on his hand instead. It sent another jolt through his spine.
He swallowed.
“I had the feeling we were getting along quite well, before… you know.
So if you would like to... stay... with me, and see where it leads us… I would like that, very… very much.”
She looked him directly in the eyes. Hopeful… and… vulnerable?
Such amazing eyes she had.
“I'd like that too… Mistress.”
He smiled sheepishly.
She beamed him a brilliant, radiant smile at that.
Then she leaned forward, getting close to him, until her electric blue eyes were all he could see.
Were they… shimmering?
“Don't worry, I won't hypnotize you ever again.”
His heart sank as her eyes filled his entire world.
“Not unless you ask me… really… really nicely.”
He blushed furiously.
“Syke!”
*SNAP*
 
The end... for now.

Thank you very much for reading!

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