Message-ID: <61071asstr$1300659003@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Original-To: ckought69@hotmail.com Delivered-To: ckought69@hotmail.com MIME-Version: 1.0 X-Original-Message-ID: <AANLkTimrvtEYNpAVDM-eCmKG5ZCPD7WXz3BZHgvWgsNV@mail.gmail.com> From: Nuke Danger <nukedanger@gmail.com> X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Sun, 20 Mar 2011 12:39:50 -0400 Subject: {ASSM} There Ain't No Such Thing as a Free Lunch Lines: 403 Date: Sun, 20 Mar 2011 18:10:03 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2011/61071> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: dennyw, newsman There Ain't No Such Thing as a Free Lunch by Nuke Danger, 3rd Aye As an IT guy who had been through enough re-orgs and RIFs and burned enough to accept the role of contractor, I'd found a nice small town outfit as my "rental agency" that serviced enough local small businesses who didn't need a full-time IT geek, instead, being serviced, to use a song from _Fiddler on the Roof_, "A little bit of this, a little bit of that..." Through all of my years I had acquired a broad (some would say eclectic) skill-set that helped me handle all of the little-- and not so little-- tasks that faced me in this new world of small business workloads. I sometimes wondered if my "boss" was not really the owner and was only providing a "front" for someone else given how shy she seemed. She was a small and unassuming woman who was almost waif-like in body and, as mentally sharp as she was she seemed to be plagued by self-doubt. She didn't seem to be assertive enough for the job, but, then, I can't really criticize her given my own lack of confidence. I suspect that, like me, the only prize either of use could win for confidence and assertiveness would be the scrap medal. Mel, actually Melanie, was easy to get along with and I enjoyed the times we spent together working. The customer workload seldom kept me busy for more than four days worth of work per week, so, by the second week, I started hanging around "our" office on my "slack" day, Wednesday. This gave me time to work on projects for Mel's firm handling the web services, database of employees, and assisting Mel in handling billing, payroll and other accounting. I might not fully understand accounting but I didn't have to since Mel did the heavy lifting, I only provided the fulcrum and lever. What I _did_ observe on those days was how Mel-- and some of the other people she rented out-- was treated by our various customers, each of whom what I would have called, at one time, A-list. Wondering what I mean for "A-list", something you'd hear from High School or College these days? The "A" in A-list stands for aggression, assertiveness, arrogance and how much of an ass-hole they were in treating people. What seemed odd was that few of them treated Melanie without a fair degree of politeness, consideration and wary respect. Well, she got more consideration than _I_ ever did even when I saved their butts by recovering deleted files of disinfecting their computers. Mel, in her role of the agency owner, was the only person who ever passed along positive comments regarding my work. Whenever I was on-site I seldom got any real feed-back from the asshole in charge, as if I wasn't really there, though their staff, usually receptionists and clerks who, often enough, got a pay-check from Mel, showed some appreciation. The nice part was that getting a hug, even if it was not an offer for more, still felt good. This all changed six and a half months after joining Mel's little firm. It was early spring and the latest dose of snow was vanishing. I'd gotten into the office over 20 minutes before Mel's unusually late arrival and observed her looking more than a bit tired and irritated. When ever I'd seen that kind of look on my ex-wife's face I had interpreted that look as "angry at me". I had never before seen this kind of look on Mel's face. You can imagine that this did boost my level of anxiety. "George," she said, calling me over to her desk as she unpacked her laptop from her bag, "I have some bad news. It's about Mark, he died last night, in a car wreck." I sighed. While the work I'd been doing for Mark's office would be missed by me-- and Mel-- I was less than likely to miss Mark himself given that, out of all of our customers, he was, to me, the single biggest flaming asshole I had ever had the misfortune to work with... or, indirectly, for. Let me tell you... I have worked with some prize ass-holes in _my_ prime. If you've worked for any length of time you have some experience with this kind of person, too, usually accepted as "alive only because of the Brady Bill". Fortunately his office did not use any of our girls as "staff". Given the loss of income to both of us, I sighed and shrugged. "Will I have any clean-up work to do for his office?" She shook her head. "The way things usually work is that the practice-- Mark having been a lawyer-- will go up for sale and some new lawyer will buy it up and figure out what to do from there. And I'll have to sell them, somehow, on giving us work." Melanie sighed and asked "You make any coffee, yet? I feel like I've been awake all night." In hindsight I have to tell you that this clue flew so far over my head that I never even heard a "whoosh". Given that I now habitually made coffee for her-- my ex had trained me well and the habits had stayed with me once she'd left me-- it only took a couple of seconds to pour her some coffee and fix it up the way she liked in the mornings. When we sat down at her small conference table each of us had our favorite morning caffeine with us. Mel seemed more introspective than usual as she wrapped her hands around her mug, seemingly drawing some warmth from it, and eyed me. "So, George... what do you do, family-wise, these days?" I sighed and shrugged. "My ex moved across the country and my children, now all adults, have scattered to the four corners of the earth, so, boss, I've no family any more. Why do you think I'm still living down the street in an efficiency apartment?" Mel chuckled. "Want to meet the local network of people tonight?" It wasn't like I had anything else on my calendar. "Sure. What's the dress code? I have gone a long time without a three-piece suit, y'know." I smiled at her as she chuckled. I always appreciated Mel's response to my efforts to get a laugh out of her. Even given my one relationship with a member of the opposite sex I had no inkling that there was any real flirting going on. Even in hindsight I don't have the experience to recognize that there were hints flying over my head. "I would not worry about dress code. You can arrive in sweats if you want. No one else will bother to dress up." I nodded. "What time? And where?" "At the A&W, at 6:15 sharp, that OK with you?" I nodded my head. "Sure, no problem" I said, then entered the necessary appointment in my phone. All those hints... and I had missed them all. _ I arrived at 6:10 to find Mel in the snow-dusted parking lot with two of our customers. The A&W was still closed for the winter awaiting spring or, better yet, summer, and it seemed an odd venue for the movers and shakers in this town to gather. At least no one was any better dressed than I was in warm sweats with my big jacket on. Looking around I felt old and out of shape compared to the people who'd awaited my arrival. At least none seemed particularly unhappy with seeing me there... though none but Mel seemed happy to see me. It wasn't until it was too late for me to get away that I realized this parking lot was hidden from the road by bushes and hedges and that it backed up to the woods. Another hint missed. When the Sheriff's cruiser pulled up he got out of the driver's seat while his wife, who normally handled dispatch calls, got out of the passenger seat. Three more tall women, two of whom worked with me for Mel's agency, were released from the back seat of his cruiser. For a short time I felt like an outsider even with Mel introducing me to everyone as the "newest addition" to the group. So, when the Sheriff's wife grabbed my left hand and put a handcuff on it, I was shocked speechless, suddenly worried about what they were going to do with me. As I was dragged unceremoniously to a picnic table and attached to its pipe structure Mel tried to calm me down with soothing words about a "harmless" initiation ritual. Having the one unknown Amazon who had arrived with the Sheriff shove a suddenly bared nipple into my mouth shut me especially given how cold and large it was and the hug she'd wrapped me in. "George," Mel said, "Just warm up Pam's nipple. Everything else will be fine, all right?" When I was finally released from the hug and Pam's nipple reluctantly pulled from my lips I saw an odd scene playing out in this parking lot. I was shocked to watch, in the dim light, everyone stripping. Both Pam and Mel were suddenly in a hurry to dump all of their clothing and how cold they'd get was disturbing to me even with me still warmly dressed. I concentrated on Mel as she walked towards me, her cold stick-like body somehow compelling my eyes to watch her approach when the first bit of light from the full Moon popped up over the building and illuminated her. Her eyes stayed on mine as, suddenly, her face changed, her eyes changing last to match the body that seemed to unfold from her own. A huge body. Where a waif-like young woman had paused in her approach to me I now faced a huge wolf. Before the wolf could drop to all fours, I noticed that this animal, despite having unfolded from the under-developed but certainly feminine Melanie, was *male*. And not "merely" male but excitedly male. Her... his... eyes compelled me to watch Mel's new form as... he... approached me and licked my face. No matter how lovingly a wolf may lick your face you will be scared. A growly voice came from the wolf I was face-to-face with said "Get your jacket off... now!" Don't ask me why or how I complied, my jacket was soon wrapped around the hand-cuff chain. "Good" I heard the wolf before me growl out and then... ... my sweats were quickly shredded from my body by the claws of this huge wolf right as I was going to stain them. The cold stopped everything. My skin hadn't suffered a single nick. Then there was a silent pause before Mel gently teethed my flaccid member and I passed out. _ _When I awoke I saw things in shades of grey and, looking around, saw myself surrounded by a pack of wolves. Looking at myself I was shocked as I realized that I now fit into this pack just as my paw was too small to be held by the hand-cuff._ _I was further shocked, looking around, to count that the male-female ratio was now reversed, and, of the female wolves... I was the largest._ _I felt the back of my neck being nipped and the wolf-mind I shared this body with moved my tail out of the way as Mel, my Alpha, mounted me._ _I was in love, as was my "inner wolf"._ _ In the morning I lay on my side as my body made the transition back to human with no apparent injuries but the sudden lack of fur made the cold ground that much colder. My new pack helped me as they pulled on their own clothing by wrapping me up in a large blanket and placed me in Mel's car, handing me a small trash bag with my destroyed sweats. My big jacket was pushed into the back seat. I watched as the Sheriff's wife, who I'd watched repeated mounting her husband, collected the handcuffs that had been used to secure me for Mel's effort to recruit me into her pack. Mel was, again, the small and harmless-looking young woman I'd become comfortable with and was talking to the various people cleaning up the parking lot. As I watched her I could feel how much I wanted to hold, cuddle and protect her. I could also remember, during the night, how much she had protected me. The driver's door opened and the Sheriff's wife slid in behind the wheel. "George" she addressed me, "I'll bet, with all of the events last night, you've forgotten that my name is Caryn. I suspect that you are confused right now... but... how do you feel after last night?" I sighed. "Well... I am confused. I always thought that there were no such thing as were-wolves though I have read enough stories. This is very different from all of the stories I've read." She smiled at me. "Yeah, you can't get something for nothing. You don't look like much as a human, but, well, *wow*, as a wolf, you were *so* doable, though you belong to Melanie." I nodded. "George, Mel will put you through your paces so you know what to expect from this change. You, at least, seem to be coping well given what happened to you." I smiled and told her "I am not unhappy. Given my age I wonder how long this will last." Caryn smiled at me. "George, I am one hundred twenty two years old. My husband, Brad, is younger, only ninety four. Mel is three hundred fifty one. You will look a _lot_ younger by the next full moon, so you've just got a new lease on life." I laughed at the memory this triggered. "Maybe you really mean new 'leash' on life." Caryn laughed and pointed at me "Muppet Movie, right?" I nodded. She gave me a quick hug and left the car after getting my keys. Mel drove me home to her house and let me know it was my turn to be the male. We spent the next night running in the woods. _ Since then every full moon I run with Mel's pack as her Bitch, claimed by her and able to keep the others in their places. All of those powerful men, the movers and shakers of this town, were beneath me given they were all female werewolves. They'd not known any more than I about the full transition and their place in the human pecking order was reversed in their wolf forms. As humans, Mel and I are not going to turn heads or garner much attention, given that Magic is part of the irony woven into the very fabric of reality, we don't get the same physical roles in our Were form. Even with Magic there ain't no such thing as a free lunch. One week-end, to surprise Mel, I went to an artsy store and painted some mugs for us. Mel's reads "Alpha Male" and mine reads "#1 Bitch". Seeing these on our desks gets a smile out of those not in the pack. *Fini* -- "Schroedinger's Cat pretty much defines ambivalence" -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com>| | FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> | |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}| +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+