Mack - Chapter Fourteen

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Mack - Chapter Thirteen

Chapter 13

The next couple of days were a bit strange for the both of them. Mack was silent a lot, retreating into his music, speaking only when Sam was speaking to him. They would eat dinner quietly, barely talking through the meal. He would spend time in the bathroom with the door locked, masturbating to relieve his sexual need when they were in the motel room. Sam would take care of his own needs while his cub was doing that. Mack slept in his underwear and t-shirt; Sam slept buck as usual; but Mack slept as far from Sam as he could comfortably get. Still, he'd wake in the middle of the night and find he'd scooted close up to Sam in his sleep. More often than not Sam's arm was draped over him while deep in sleep. He knew the big bear did it subconsciously. Mack would have a raging boner when that happened. He would then get up and go to the bathroom to jack off, afterward he'd scoot back into bed on his side.

The last morning of the journey, in a motel on the outskirts of LA, Mack woke with his arm around Sam. Sam was awake lying on his back, looking at Mack, breathing softly, listening to the outside world as he studied his cub. His cock was tenting out the sheet and Mack's cock was hard and pressed against Sam's thigh. Mack's briefs were soaked with precum. Mack looked into Sam's blue eyes and Sam wordlessly looked back. Mack was thinking about what he wanted to say.

"Your pheromones have me hooked, don't they?" Mack asked.

"About as much as yours do me, Mack; it's our nature. We truly ARE mates, you know," Sam said. "Giving you the space you need, not touching you, not talking to you much, not holding you... it's been hard. Really hard." Sam paused. "Are you still angry with me?"

Mack had rehearsed what he was going to say to Sam. He was still pissed, but more than that, disturbed that Sam would take advantage of someone he professed to love and had sworn to defend. He phrased the first part of what he wanted to say in a careful, neutral tone.

"Only a little," he said. "I guess I've come to realize just how irresistible your scent is, how horny it makes me, so I realize it must have been the same for you. That hunger to breed must have been strong, and it might have affected your judgment. I've wanted to be with you even though I was angry, couldn't help but see your body in my mind while I jacked off, no matter how hard I tried to think about someone else..."

Then Mack stopped and let some of the anger come out in what he said next. "But your needing to breed still didn't excuse you for not telling me right then and there when you took my... when you changed me. It's real hard for me to get past that." He paused. “Real hard.” His words if not his tone echoed Sam's of a few minutes earlier.

"No, it didn't excuse me and I've tried to tell you a couple of dozen times since before we were rousted out of that motel. I just couldn't find the right words... or the right time. I was hoping there'd be more time for me to explain." Sam said.

"Well, it probably wouldn't have done you any good anyway, I was... am... still mad at you. It probably would have ended with me yelling and storming around." Mack looked up at the ceiling. "Why don't you just tell me you're sorry and we'll close this. I will do my best to dump my anger. I'll learn to deal with the idea what I'm becoming; I guess there's nothing I can do to change it anyway."

Mack paused and looked at Sam. He was still the most beautiful man he'd ever seen and for him to feel that through his resentment and anger meant something. He leaned over and then kissed Sam lightly on the lips. Sam gently kissed back and didn't do what he wanted to, he didn't plunge his tongue into Mack's mouth and kiss him with all the passion he would have liked.

Sam looked into Mack's eyes and began. "I'm sorry Mack. I have treated you like a child; I've kept things from you because I was afraid you couldn't deal with them because of your youth and that was disrespectful. I was selfish; I changed you without your knowledge out of that selfishness, because I wanted you so very badly. I needed my mate. I needed to be with you and have you be one with me. I didn't consider your feelings. I was greedy; I wanted to mate with you so desperately that I allowed that lust to overrule your right of choice."

"Is this the first time you've changed someone unwillingly?" Mack asked and his stare penetrated deep into Sam's soul.

"No." Sam replied and Mack's eyes flashed. Sam quickly followed with, "But there were reasons."

"Oh, and just what reasons?" Mack's anger was building. If he'd changed others then this was habit for him and his apology was meaningless.

"The other times, it was because the human was kindred and would have died had I not done something," Sam said.

"So you fucked them to save them?" Mack asked, still not quite convinced.

"No, not fucked, I shared my blood with them… my blood can heal wounds, will do so even for non-kindred, but that's risky.

"You've changed non-kindred?" Mack's curiosity was peaked.

"Yes, when I was very young but I have learned since it's rarely wise to do so."

"Why?" Mack's flash of anger had subsided somewhat, but his voice still betrayed the hurt there.

"Often, when they are changed, those who are not kindred become those savage, bloodthirsty beasts like in the horror movies that you were worried about becoming. That's likely the root of those legends. In the middle ages, there were some werewolves made who were not kindred to their clans. A couple of rogue werewolves got it in their head they could form their own packs without their elder's permission. It went badly. They chose carelessly, outside of their kindred. The result were feral new werewolves running amok, killing livestock and people. That brought about fear, paranoia and persecutions, I suppose understandably so. Sometimes, non-kindred revert to complete animals, living in the wild. They're still human in a portion of their minds, but they allow their new instincts to completely rule them. They are especially dangerous for they are far more intelligent beasts than is usual. Sometimes they simply go mad with the struggle of human mind over animal instinct. But sometimes, rarely, they become family. And even more rarely a set of those humans become kindred to that new shape-shifter. It's the same for us werebears, though we've gotten less 'press' over the centuries, probably because there have always been so few of us."

"So I was kindred, not in a life or death struggle and you changed me without telling me. Why?" The last word somehow carried all the hurt and anger and frustrated love Mack was feeling.

"I was a little afraid you might run off screaming into the night if you found out what I really was," Sam said.

"And why do you think I would have done that?" Mack asked.

"Because I once revealed myself to a man who was kindred. He was very much like you. That was in the late 1600's, during one of those periodic waves of religious fervor that swept over Europe. He could have been a mate but it scared him because of his religious beliefs. I should have realized that when he was having a real problem with the concept of two men making love, but he seemed to be accepting of that and I thought he might be accepting of what I am; but he wasn't. He called me a demon, Mack. He hunted me and with the help of a number of villagers he almost killed me. He and his angry witch-hunting mob tracked me to a small cottage I had tucked away and burned down the house with me in it. I only managed to survive because I had a secret way out.”

"But you're a werebear, you regenerate fast. Why would a house fire be a problem for you?"

"I had severe burns Mack; though I heal quickly, they were quite painful. The scars didn't go away for months and the hair didn't grow back in places for about a year and a half. Third degree burns are a challenge, even for our kind. There are limits to what even a body like mine can do."

Mack digested this, spent some time chewing on it. "I really don't know what to think about all this. The idea that I am going to be one of these... these werebears... is just too weird. I mean, I like the sex and all; that's great. And being able to heal wounds fast is cool; but the other shit is... just... weird."

"Yes, it is weird and you might not believe it, but we all feel that way at first, Mack, even me. In my village, even with the acceptance that some of its members were other than human, just knowing what you are gives you this surreal feeling. After a decade or two it won't seem so, I promise Of course, some take to it faster than others. Mike took to being a werebear like a duck to water, Larry's just now getting used to the idea, he's finally comfortable with what he's become, though it's taken years. I've been alive probably longer than any one of us alive today, Mack. This is what I am and being human the way others are seems far more alien to me now than being a werebear," Sam said. He placed his big paw of a hand over Mack's, which still rested on Sam's broad furry chest.

Mack threw off the sheet, they were both still very erect.

"They just don't deflate unless we squirt, do they?" Mack asked incredulously.

"Not while we're in the presence of each other. I can see and smell a regular man, look at his fine furry body, his furry face and get raging hard; but if I start thinking about something other than sex I'll get soft. With kindred, I'm almost always hard and with a mate, I need to satisfy my lusts. I suppose a whole lot of cold water would do it too, but that's not nearly as much fun." Sam's lustful grin broke across his bearded face.

"Well, I don't want to make love with you just yet, but I do want to have sex with you. I think if I have sex in your presence I'll feel more satisfied, even if I don't fuck you or you me. I am feeling more like touching you now. How about we rub our cocks together until we both cum, clean up and go have breakfast?" Mack suggested.

Sam smiled, "Haven't quite dumped all that anger have you?"

"Nope!" Mack said pulling off his underwear as he straddled the big bear.

"Well, angry sex is better than none, I suppose." Sam said as Mack began thrusting into his belly fur, rubbing his balls by sliding them over Sam's stiff member. Their precum quickly slicked their cocks and soon both the bear and his cub were grunting in pleasure. It didn't take long. Sam roared, shooting cum all over his and Mack's chest. It dripped down and the heat of it oozing onto Mack's cock combined with its musky bearish scent drove Mack over the edge. He shot all over Sam's face and chest making a complete mess. Sam pulled his cub tight and Mack forced his tongue into Sam's mouth, scooping up his seed from Sam's mustache as he did so. Sam held him tight as they kissed passionately. Their kiss broke and Mack looked into Sam's eyes.

"You're not forgiven yet, but you're getting there," Mack said.

"Let's get all cleaned up an' go ta breakfast." Sam said, "This ol' bar ain't et well since you got all bent outta shape, but my appetite is on the mend I figger." Sam's 'Good ol' Bear' accent was back.

"Why the shift in diction?" Mack asked.

Sam chuckled. "'Cause talkin' like this aroun' regular folk is what's 'spected from a guy what looks like me. I draw enough attention as it is, 'cause of my size an' all. If I was in a business suit all trimmed up an' manicured, I could get away with usin' proper grammar an' no one would think nothin' of it. People need ta put ya in boxes so's they can they stop thinkin' about what you are or might be... makes 'em comfortable. People tend to notice what's outta place.” Sam's tone shifted again. “Verbal camouflage, cub, you'll pick it up soon enough. It's important. Now let's shower."

The trip north to Bakersfield wasn't nearly as cold and tense as the trip had been since the motel incident. Mack's anger had abated for the most part and he was more talkative now when they stopped for food. It was late afternoon by the time they had reached Uncle Russ' place; it was an old Victorian farmhouse that he and Jesse had restored to its former glory. Out back, a good distance from the house, a line of trees mostly hid the modern steel garage for the maintenance and repair of 'The Grrrizz'. The new structure had replaced the old barn.

Sam pulled up to the house and around the back. There the pair dismounted and hung the helmets on the handlebars. Sam pulled Mack into a firm hug and swabbed his tonsils; Mack returned the kiss with the same passion. Mack looked up into his lover's eyes, "OK, you're mostly forgiven."

Sam chuckled, "Only mos'ly?"

Mack raised his right hand to Sam's bearded cheek and caressed it, "Don't push your luck, ol' man," he said sweetly and grinned.

"Why is it all my cubs eventually lose ALL semblance of respect fer me an' start callin' me 'ol' man' insteada just callin' me 'Daddy' or 'Sam'? ... I suppose it coulda been worse... ya coulda called me 'Pops' or somthin'." Sam smiled.

"Hmmm... 'Pops'... I kinda like that!" Mack's grin turned evil.

Sam reached out and swiftly swatted Mack's butt.

"On second thought, 'ol' man' seems to be traditional... I think I'll go with that," Mack smiled and swatted Sam's butt back.

Sam rolled his eyes, "Let's go find yer Uncle Russ and yer Uncle Jesse."

"Hold on a sec, there's something I want to say, something I owe you," Mack said. He looked up at the big bear. “Thank you.”

"Fer what, son?" Sam asked, somewhat puzzled.

"Fer kickin' redneck ass fer me, that's what." Mack said, copying Sam's accent. "I came out of that bathroom, ready to skewer one of those bastards because I heard a scream and thought it was yours, but you already had the situation under control. Thank you for being my protector, while I'm still unable to properly defend myself," Mack said.

"That won't be long, son. Soon you'll be bustin' heads as easily as I do... but you're gonna have to learn how ta do that from me. I need to teach you proper restraint. It's all too easy to let the bear have his way, and I don't want the law huntin' ya down 'cause you eviscerated someone in a fight or beheaded them with a swipe of yer claws," Sam said, "Later for that. Let's see what yer uncle's have been up to."

Sam went around and knocked on the front door of the house; when there was no answer he suggested they check the garage. He and Mack approached the garage, Sam and Mack paused to listen; what they heard was growling and grunting, like animals fucking. Mack blushed. Sam's nose was twitching, taking in the scents.

"Yer uncles are knockin' boots in there," Sam said in a whisper, still having fun with the redneck mode of talk, sort of payback for Mack's earlier comment. "Let's go in an' have a look, shall we?" The glee was apparent in Sam's eyes.

Mack noticed Sam's cock was bulging in his pants and Mack's own rod, despite his embarrassment, was, too.

"We can't go in there! My uncle and his mate are having sex!" Mack whispered back in protest, tugging on Sam's arm.

"Ya really think they're gonna care? We're family Mack! I'm yer uncle's Papa, an yer another man. Yeah, he's yer uncle; but we don't really pay much attention to those details, even if humans do. Hell, I've caught 'em at it before an' joined in. Now get on in there, yer gonna wanna see this, trust me," Sam said softly and smiled.

"No, I'm not!" Mack protested. "It's... it's... like watching your parents fuck or something."

"Cubs!" Sam rolled his eyes, "You all start out with such silly notions about bearsex. Look... they know we're here, they could smell us approach an' they know who we are by scent. They woulda stopped an' scrambled fer clothes if they cared 'bout bein' caught."

Sam pushed him through the partially opened garage doors and there Mack saw them; two fully transformed werebears fucking. The larger, auburn bear was flat on his back on a mattress thrown on the garage floor, his back legs hugging his partner's waist. On top of him was a dark chocolate brown, slightly smaller, almost black grizzly fucking his mate's ass. Butt muscles clinched, hips drove forward, wet thick bear cock disappeared into willing bear ass. The two were growling, biting at each other gently, licking and embracing.

Sam studied his cub as he watched; the young bear was starting to give off the same arousal scents he made when they fucked, his cock was leaking and the wet spot at the front of his pants was spreading. Sam smiled in satisfaction, knowing the two bears fucking in front of them, apparently heedless of their presence, was turning Mack on. More of the cub in Mack was beginning to awaken. More important to Sam, Mack obviously wasn't afraid; Mack wasn't going to run out of the room in disgust, either. Mack would ultimately be sexually and emotionally satisfied by mating with a werebear but that was a few months away yet.

Sam bent down and whispered in Mack's ear, "How does seein' yer uncles fuckin' make ya feel?"

Mack turned to look into Sam's eyes and Sam read what was there; longing, desire, lust but also confusion and uncertainty. Mack was trying to sort through conflicting feelings.

"I feel... I dunno..." Mack whispered and looked back to the couple, then back to Sam.

"Yer mind might be confused by what ya see, but yer pants tell me yer kinda gittin inta it, am I right?" Sam said softly in Mack's ear.

Mack looked down and nodded mutely. There was a series of growling vocalizations from the pair on the mattress.

"Yer uncles have noticed us an' want us ta come on over. An' yer Uncle Russ wants ta know what took us so long," Sam said and chuckled.

"Huh? That was talk? You mean you understood that?" Mack asked his eyes wide.

"Hell son! 'Course I un'erstood, that's our language they're speakin'! You'll be able ta speak it soon; now unzip them pants when ya get over there an' pull yer cock out," Sam said and he started nudging Mack toward the fucking bears.

The twenty or so steps over to them seemed like walking through a fog. Mack's senses seemed to be overloading his brain; the smell was so powerful, so attractive and he could swear he even tasted the musky scent through his opened mouth. The vocalizations sent thrills to his core, the sight of the massive, bulky male bodies covered in soft bear fur, fucking; they made him feel dizzy with lust. He was beside the pair before he realized he'd even taken the first step toward them. The darker bear on top was thrusting roughly into the larger auburn bear beneath. Mack could see the thick, wet cock of the top bear plunging in and out of the bear's ass on the bottom, could see the ripples each impact caused travel up the bigger bear's gut to his muscled chest. The sight of his Uncle Russ' transformed cock drooling out pools of precum onto his belly, the smell of it, sent shocks of erotic pleasure to Mack's groin. Mack stood watching; he reached out a hand and petted the back of the bear on top. The smaller bear growled out something and then Sam was saying something to him, but it wasn't registering. Mack was mesmerized, watching the Hispanic bear's butt muscles bunch with each thrust he made into the bear under him.

"Open yer pants an' pull 'em down, son. Jesse says he wants to suck ya," Sam said. After instructing Mack to drop trou again without any response, Sam reached around his cub, unbuckled the belt, opened his pants and pulled them down, briefs and all. Mack's cock sprang out, drooling a long string of precum.

Chocolate brown Jesse latched onto Mack's cock, sucking it into his muzzle. He began to suckle as he continued to piston his mate, making a motor noise as he did. Mack arched his back in pleasure. He had never been sucked by a full form werebear before. Sam was standing behind, holding his cub, reaching up under his T shirt, gently twisting the nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. He gently bit on Mack's neck. Shivers of pleasure ran through the young bear's body, he let out a growled moan, his hands running through the fur on Jesse's head, the hair on Sam's arm. Jesse snuffled in Mack's pubes. Mack came quickly, shouting in pleasure as he did so. Sam gripped him, kissing his neck as the young bear twitched in ecstasy. Jesse lapped up all the cum he was fed and sucked until there was nothing left. He removed his muzzle from the young man's cock. Mack almost passed out in Sam's arms. Sam dragged him over to an old leather recliner not more than ten feet from the mattress and sat him down in it, with Mack's pants still around his ankles.

"Sit back an' watch. When you've recovered, come on over an' join in if ya like," Sam said and kissed his cub on the forehead.

Sam moved to in front of Russ, dropped his pants, knelt on the mattress with Russ' muzzle between his legs and fed his huge organ to the bear. Russ began sucking on Sam's cock greedily. Sam pulled Jesse into kiss, opening his mouth wide to allow the bear to force his tongue into Sam's mouth and throat. Sam was pulling his leather vest off. He ripped his black sleeveless shirt down the front from the neck to waist. His muscular body was becoming covered in brown fur. He broke the kiss, reached back and pulled off his boots and got the pants around his ankles and off. Mack watched Sam change into a full grizzly, pulling Jesse into a bear hug. The growls were deep and full of animal lust. Russ on the bottom roared around Sam's ursine cock, shooting spurt after spurt of hot bear seed all over Jesse who was still muzzle-locked with Sam. The spasms of Russ' ass rings set him off and the vibration from Russ' roar set Sam off. The pair loading Russ at either end exploded into the bear simultaneously, roaring into each other's opened mouths. Mack, unconsciously jacking himself while watching the trio, whimpered and shot a second heavy load all over his chest and up into his new beard.

Slowly the three parted and collapsed on the mattress, Mack removed his clothing, tossing it into the chair and went to nestle down among the three bears, another first for him; slowly they changed back to their human forms. Mack lay between Russ and Sam. All of them needed a short nap after their exertion.

"Welcome, nephew!" Russ said. The fur had not completely receded from his body. He pulled Mack into a French kiss. Mack felt a twinge of strangeness at first. He was kissing his uncle in a very sexually intimate way, and that still felt odd; but he decided gave in to his lust and accepted the kiss.

Jesse, his arm draped over Sam's chest, petting the fur said, "Hairy, fat, white guys...," and sighed.

Sam said, "Yep!" and pulled the black bearded Hispanic bear into a deep kiss, hugging him to his body tightly. Soon, all four were dozing off.

Mark - Chapter Twelve

Chapter 12

Sam sat on one of the benches at the picnic tables of the rest stop. Mack sat next to him. He looked at the sandy ground, then up at Sam.

Mack cleared his throat. "You look human enough, you look like you do all the time… but what I saw, I mean what you became back in the motel… that wasn't human. Humans don't grow short fur on their arms and have fangs when they bark out orders." He looked steadily at the large figure sitting next to him. "What are you, Sam?"

Sam sighed and looked Mack straight in the eye, "I am a werebear, and have been for almost twenty-five hundred years." There was silence. This was going to be hard, and Sam was going to let Mack ask the questions.

Mack took a moment to let that sink in. "I don't believe you! It CAN'T be true! Five hundred years before Christ and all that?"

"Yes," Sam said simply.

"What the fuck is a 'werebear'? Are you some kind of movie monster?" Mack didn't know whether to laugh or run away; it was all just too surreal.

"Son, I'm as real as you are. A werebear is a human who can change into a bear... and change back. We can survive most wounds because we can regenerate tissue and repair damage real fast. We possess immense strength, and our immune systems are very quick and strong and we live a long, long time because of all that."

"But you're not a human; humans can't do all of that. You're some sort of, of... a creature from mythology," Mack said

"I'm human in every way you're human, I'm also more than human." Sam had argued for his being 'human' many times in his long life.

"You said you live a long, long time because you heal super fast; where are you from and how long ago?" the young bear asked, puzzled, attracted and a bit repelled all at the same time.

"I was a boy, born in a small village. The people we were are not named in any history books because we were never recorded. We simply called ourselves 'The People' in our language, like many peoples have done over the ages."

"Were you born like this?" Mack asked. Right now, there was more curiosity than disgust or fear in Mack's voice.

"If you mean gay, yes, but I suspect you understand that from your own experience. No, I wasn't always a werebear. I was changed, as part of a rite, a warrior's rite," Sam said. "In later times, a version of that rite would be used to initiate young men into the Berserker mysteries of the Norse."

"I've heard of berserks. We read about the Norse in school," Mack said, happy to finally have at least something familiar mentioned.

"Some Berserkers were werebears, Mack, and some were not. I was changed when I was sixteen summers old, I was brought into the warrior caste as I was destined to be. We were the protectors, shamans, hunters and healers of the village; everyone had a part to play in keeping us all alive and our part was to defend our tribe and to find the food. Because we lived so long we became healers and keepers of lore, too. How it happened to me has implications for you Mack. I was taken into the home of one of the warriors, he made love to me and four months later I changed for the first time. You've lain with a werebear who is probably the last survivor from that village from so long ago. You will become a werebear, Mack." Sam looked steadily at Mack, waiting.

"Don't you have to bite my neck or something like that?" Mack's voice had a sarcastic edge to it born of uncertainty, but it was also tinged with a little fear.

Sam understood, it was the unknown that brought fear. "No, son... my seed was more than enough to change you." Sam braced himself for what he was sure to come.

There was a long pause while Mack took it in. The silence extended. Sam continued to gaze at Mack, still waiting. Finally, Mack didn't explode, and instead asked soberly, "Why? Why did you do this to me?"

"Do you believe in reincarnation, Mack?"

"No," Mack said flatly.

"I don't know that I do either, but I've been alive a very long time. I've seen civilizations rise and fall, I've watched man grow more and more powerful in his knowledge and in his ability to kill his fellow man. Through all the wonders and horrors, I've seen, I've met, loved and slept with hundreds of men, Mack; and every once in awhile… one of you comes along." Sam said.

"One of me?" Mack gave a quizzical look.

"Yes. I don't know if you're the same soul or if it's just that out of the thousands of personality traits that are expressed you match almost exactly the same traits as someone I used to know long ago, and loved profoundly, in that little village.

"But what about Mike? I saw him eat your cum, I saw him take you up his ass. Is he 'One' too?" Mack asked.

"Mike is a fantastic lover, a wonderful man and hot werebear. I love Mike, I love his cub Larry. Hell, I love your uncle Russ and Vic and those hundreds of other werebears out there. So yes, I've changed men to werebears over the centuries; I need family and these men become my family, but I don't love them as deeply as you, Mack. They're not my… mate. Your uncle was one Hell of a cub with me, Mack; and so very close. But he wasn't my mate; you are. I could tell when you hit your teen years and that's why. That's why I made you into a werebear.”

"Why didn't you tell me?" Mack asked, and Sam could sense the emotion building in the young bear.

"I've watched you grow up, I've kept an eye on you. When I couldn't, Russ did. If you've ever trusted me, trust me with this. This IS what you were meant to be. Call it a kind of sixth sense if you will. You are more than 'kindred'... you are my kindred. Yes, I wanted you; yes, I needed you. I KNOW it was selfish... but it's more than that, Mack. You were meant for this, I can smell it, taste it and I know it with all my heart and with all my centuries of knowledge... with all my being. You might hate me now... but I think after awhile, you'll see; it is what you are, what you were born to be."

Mack jumped up, his anger finally boiling over. He stomped away about twenty yards; he stopped with his back to Sam.

"So what now?" He yelled over his shoulder his anger pouring out. "What am I gonna change into? Huh? Some slavering beast that kills and eats people, like in the movies?"

Sam winced and sighed. "I've never been a cannibal, Mack. Yes… you'll change in about four months, give or take a day or two, but slavering and cannibalistic, no; and not a beast... not like you mean." Sam answered in a voice loud enough for him to hear but without shouting back and with a tone that betrayed none of the hurt he felt. "Am I a slavering beast, Mack? Did I rip the throats out of those rednecks who wanted to bash our brains in back there? Did I drink their blood? Do you think your uncle is a slavering beast? He's your uncle. He's kind and gentle; have you ever known him to be anything less? Mack, we were the protectors of our tribe. Would a mindless, bloodthirsty beast be entrusted with the lives of women and children?"

Mack spun on his heels. "I don't know! Hell, listen to yourself, man... you don't even talk like you used to. How much of you is you and how much is fake?"

"How would you prefer I speak? I could speak in Middle English like Chaucer... or how about in the English of the man who's name I borrowed, Sam Adams... Colonial American English? I knew Sam Adams and I fought in that revolution you studied in school. Old Croat? How about Low German? Or Dutch, I can do Flemish, too.” Sam paused and took a breath. “I'm an educated man, Mack, educated and re-educated, century upon century. There's nothing fake about me, it's just another part of what I am."

Sam's tone shifted again. "Mack, I'm serious here... this is important for you to understand. I'm not kidding, this isn't about being a 'biker'... this is about being something a whole lot more difficult."

Mack looked levelly at Sam. "OK. I want to know everything. I want to see exactly what I'm becoming. Show me!"

"Now?" Sam asked.

"Yes, now, damn it! If the desert is private enough for us to have sex behind a boulder, it's private enough for me to see what I'm to become in the moonlight." Mack said.

"OK, I'll show you."

Sam got up from the bench and walked out into the desert, away from the rest stop, Mack followed. There was a gully, deep enough to conceal the pair from the road and shallow enough to climb out of when they were done. The bottom of the gully was littered with stones, but had some sandy spots that were fairly smooth. Sam removed his clothes and set them on a nearby boulder.

"Now you." Sam said.

"Why?"

"Because I want to see your whole body reaction and I want to know a few things for myself." Sam said.

Mack slowly removed his clothes, placed them next to Sam's and stood naked in the moonlight. He leaned against the rock and put his shoes back on. Sam might be comfortable in the sand barefoot, but Mack knew about desert scorpions. There was perhaps three feet between them, Sam moved so that the rays of the moon shone on the front of his body allowing Mack the best view. Without prelude, Sam's body seemed to burst into growth. Mack couldn't believe how quickly additional muscle bulged over the bear's entire body or how quickly he rose in height. Mack could hear bones and joints cracking as they grew and realigned; joints snapping into new configurations. Sam's shoulders rotated forward allowing for quadrupedal stance and movement, his muzzle grew out, fingers and toes quickly became claws attached to paws… And the fur... dark brown fur grew out on his body so quickly; if Mack had closed his eye for just five seconds he would have missed Sam's skin disappearing. A muscular hump grew between his shoulder blades and a fat stubby tail grew from the base of his spine. In less than a minute, Sam was a full grizzly bear.

Mack looked over the bear's body in awe, any fear he might have had was forgotten for the moment. He was huge! At least ten feet, perhaps more, it was hard to say in this light. Muscle bulged through the thick fur, a round belly and huge paws gave Sam a massive presence. Sam's cock grew longer, thicker, glistening in the moonlight with precum; his balls inflated and hung low in a furry sack.

Mack couldn't help himself. All his anger, his resentment, melted into thin air. He took a step forward and he began stroking Sam's furry chest. His smell! Now Mack understood why Sam smelled 'animal' at times. When he'd first met him, he thought maybe he was a bum that had slept with the dogs for warmth. It was a surprisingly warm scent in the cool of the night.

Sam was staring down at Mack's crotch. What he saw there told him all he needed to know about Mack; he was completely erect. Mack leaned forward, and breathed in the scent, his cock nudging the base of the bear's cock as he did so. He felt dizzy, aroused and lustful. He wanted to bend down and suckle the bear's meat, but stopped.

"Damn it! It's pheromones, isn't it! You make pheromones that attract me,” Mack said turning his eyes up to meet the bear's.

Sam just made bear vocalizations in reply.

"Change back now, I wanna talk with you as a man."

Within a minute Sam was in human shape again; his cock, still at full erection, had squirted out precum as the size of everything became less. It ran down the shaft and Sam collected it and rubbed it into his belly and chest fur.

"Your scent, it has a drug-like effect on me, doesn't it? Makes me... pliable, doesn't it?" Mack said.

"Yes, and that's how I knew you were born to be a werebear Mack. Humans who are drawn to our scent are our 'kin'... possible werebears. Humans who aren't kin either ignore or are actively repulsed by our body odor and Mack, it goes both ways; your scent drives me wild, the smell of kindred, like Mike, like Larry... like your uncle... like all the others... it fills me with lust, Mack. Damned near undeniable lust with your scent in particular; you are like them, but times ten. You started making those scents when you began puberty. Other humans wouldn't notice, but other kin would. I sure did. When I got on the bus with you, exposure to your scent began fueling my desire. By the time we got to Jim's motel, it was all I could do not to rip your clothes off, suck every ounce of cum out of you and then fuck your brains out as soon as that door shut."

Mack flared. "And you didn't think I could handle this? God damn it, Sam!" Mack shouted. "Fuck! Didn't you think I might want the truth? You treated me like I was a kid again!"

"I'm sorry Mack... but everyone on the planet seems like a kid to me, sometimes."

Mack turned and walked away, his back to Sam. He was crying silently; his anger returned and, having no other vent, found its way out through tears. He didn't want Sam to know, though Sam did... he could smell the tears. Sam wanted to go to him, to hold him, but knew that would not be well received now.

"Just get dressed and let's go back to the rest stop. I'll be right along after I get dressed," Mack said, still with his back to Sam. He had controlled his voice and hoped it said nothing of his emotion.

Sam dressed quickly and climbed out of the gully. Mack wiped his eyes and gave vent to his anger with a scream of anger. Having let it out, he felt a little better. He dressed and climbed out of the gully. He walked back to the rest stop, Sam was already on his bike, Mack's helmet in his hand. He looked out to the highway, his back to the restrooms, waiting patiently. Mack went into the bathroom and spent a good ten minutes washing his face with cold water. He returned to Sam who silently handed him the helmet, which he quickly donned.

He climbed on the back and when his arms were around Sam he said, "I'm pissed at you Sam and it's gonna take awhile before I feel like having sex with you again."

"I understand," Sam said and fired up his Hawg.

Mack hung on tightly as he peeled out of the parking lot to the on ramp.

Mack - Chapter Eleven

Chapter 11

Sam pulled into the lot of a "Thrifty Traveler Motel". Both of them were pretty tired, and Sam checked them into a room with a single queen sized bed. It wasn't luxurious, but it was clean, available and somewhat anonymous. They'd stopped at a diner earlier and Mack was well fed and ready to get into bed with Sam. After having ridden behind Sam all day long, holding on to his beefy body, bathing in his ursine scent and enjoying the pleasurable vibration from the Hawg, Mack wanted to make love with Sam, but he also wanted sleep. His muscles were sore, he'd never ridden on a motorcycle before and didn't realize that moving with his partner on the bike would be such work. On the way to the room, Sam quickly groped Mack's ass and Mack reached back and groped Sam's. Mack found he wanted sex, but he wanted sleep more. They stripped and crawled into bed, Sam curling protectively around Mack.

Ronnie Hicks and Jimmy Banner slouched in Jim's car, half in the bag and pissed as hell. The two women who had seemed so hot to trot in the bar two hours ago had obviously stood them up. Their anger simmered as they passed the bottle back and forth between them. Ronnie watched as Sam and Mack walked across the parking lot from the motel office to their room. He saw Sam fumble for the key and drop it, and Mack pick it up and hand it to the larger man. He saw the larger man give the younger one a hug and a kiss as he fitted the key to the lock and opened the door.

Ronnie nudged Jimmy. "We got us some faggots here, Jimmy-boy."

"Yeah," Jimmy said, "but did you see the size of the big one? Daaaamn!” He took another swig out of the bottle. “Hey, why don't we wait a bit for them to get good and asleep and then kick the door in. Surprise 'em, like. Scare the crap outta 'em."

"Oh, I think I wanna do more than just scare the crap outta them fuckin' faggots. I got me a baseball bat and I wanna put some hurt on 'em." Ronnie said.

"I dunno," Jimmy said and took another swig from the bottle of JD, "that big guy looks... big. Maybe jest scare 'em.”

"What the fuck, Jimmy!” Ronnie waved the bottle around a bit unsteadily. “He's a fuckin fag! He might look bad ass, but he's not a real man, not like us. There's two of us and one of him and the little fag will probably go hide in the closet... heh heh heh, hide in the closet! He'll wish he never came out of it!"

"OK then, we'll wait 'til they're asleep, then we'll kick the shit out of some faggot ass. You still got them brass knuckles you take to biker bars?" Jimmy asked.

"Sure do, look in the glove box." Ronnie said and took the bottle of JD for a swallow.

Jimmy looked in the box, rifled through and found the brass knuckles and put them on. It was just after 12:30 am by the dashboard clock. “Faggot bashing is 'bout as good as pussy, I reckon,” Ronnie muttered as the pair waited.

Sam woke to the sound of the door being kicked. Whoever did it wasn't expecting the dead bolt to be as sturdy as it was and didn't know much about kicking doors down. Mack was awake, too. "What's going on?"

"Get into the bathroom and lock the door, take your clothes and get dressed," Sam said calmly.

Mack started to protest; after all, he was a man and was going to 'watch Sam's back'. Sam didn't have time to explain as the second kick came to the door. It looked like the cheap frame of the door had cracked and might give way with another kick. Naked, Sam grabbed his leather jacket, wrapped it around his arm and said to Mack in a low voice, "Whoever that is could have a weapon, I need you to be ready to run if I say so. Get dressed!"

Mack retreated into the bathroom with his clothes. He didn't like it, but somehow, he found it hard to disobey his papa.

Sam stood by the door waiting, the third kick came and the door flew open. Whoever it was didn't enter immediately. Sam had shifted a little, it would give him a distinct advantage.

He saw the shadow of a man cast on the carpet of the room by the light in the parking lot. Sam guessed he was probably about 6 foot or so by way he filled the door frame. Sam saw the outline of a baseball bat.

"Come on out, little faggots!" the voice mocked in a singsong, nursery rhyme tone.

He could hear that the speech was a bit slurred, "Goooood!" Sam thought. "Drunk redneck!"

Sam watched as the man moved toward the door frame. He would remain still and wait until the last moment to strike, using surprise to his advantage. Sam watched as the baseball bat entered first through the door, waited until it was almost all the way through, and then he moved. With the furry arm not covered with his leather jacket, Sam grabbed the bat and yanked, pulling the man into the room. Quickly he pushed the man to the floor, face down. He put a knee on the man's elbow and pulled his forearm up. There was a sickening snap as Sam broke the man's arm at the elbow joint. The man shrieked in pain. Two things happened then; the door to the bathroom opened and Mack jumped out brandishing the shower curtain rod like a spear, and behind him Sam heard the second man curse and move. Sam swiveled and caught the arm of the second man as he was about to land a fist in the side of his head. Sam was still kneeling on the first man's arm. He still had the bat in one hand and his leather wrapped arm was holding the brass knuckled fist of the second man. Sam swung the aluminum baseball bat and cracked the second man's knee. He crumpled to the floor, screaming in pain as well. Mack stood frozen, astonished.

It all happened so fast ... and Sam looked... different. Sam stood and kicked both of the prone men in the nuts and growled as they curled into fetal position.

Sam growled again in a slightly deeper voice, "Get your backpack and suitcase, we're outta here." Sam grabbed the lamps from the night stand, unplugged them and cut the electric cords while his would-be assailants writhed in pain. He tied their hands behind their backs and stuffed them halfway under the beds so they couldn't move. Sam dressed quickly and soon he and Mack were on his bike. They were a good ten minutes down the road when the sheriff showed up at the motel and found the two men partially under the bed.

Sheriff Tom Wilson surveyed the scene; two local boys, known to be trouble when drunk, were trussed up and stuffed under the bed where they couldn't move. The door had been kicked in and whoever had been in the motel had made a hasty exit. No doubt about it, the guy who had done this knew quite a bit about self defense. The motel manager had called the sheriff; he'd said these two guys were trying to break into one of the guest rooms.

Ronnie was moaning in pain.

"What's the story, Ronnie?" Tom asked.

Ronnie moaned, "Fucking A, man! My arm's broke. Untie me, man."

"Oh, I can't do that Ronnie, you just said your arm was broke and I don't wanna make it worse by movin' you around. We'll have to wait for the paramedics." Tom said, "So, you decided to rob a couple of patrons of this fine establishment?"

"Fuck, no!" Ronnie said and winced in pain as he'd jerked his head up to look at the sheriff, "They was two faggots and I was gonna show 'em we don't tolerate their kind around here."

Sheriff Wilson laughed, "Yeah, you showed 'em. Looks like you picked on the wrong fags. Looks like they beat the shit out of you manly men. We're gonna get you and Jimmy to the emergency room, looks like that 'fag' broke his kneecap."

"I wanna press charges!" Ronnie said.

"Well you're not the only one, pal. The motel manager wants to press charges, too. Against you. And you can forget about filing charges against those guys, Ronnie, you broke into their room. They had a right to self defense. You're gonna be lucky if they don't come back and add to the charges the motel manager is gonna file. As soon as the docs patch you and Jimmy up, we're gonna book ya."

The paramedics arrived just as sheriff Wilson was finishing his little talk. "You just cost me about three hours of paperwork, Ronnie, and you know how I love paperwork." The sheriff patted Ronnie on his left shoulder and he cried out in agony. "Oh, sorry Ronnie, I plum forgot."

Sheriff Wilson left the room, muttering something about "dumb-ass drunken trailer trash".

Miles down the road, Mack and Sam were riding on the highway in the cool of the desert night. Sam put in a good fifty miles before he stopped at a rest stop. They pulled in and dismounted, they both used the facilities, not a word exchanged. As they walked out, Mack said, "I need to talk to you. I need answers."

Sam sighed... he suspected he knew what the questions might be.