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Stiles, back home after a grueling lacrosse practice, dumped his bag unceremoniously on the floor and fell back onto his bed, letting out a groan of relief. He pulled out his phone, a grin instantly spreading across his face as he saw Heather’s texts. She wanted to meet up, and he quickly agreed, the prospect of seeing her again making his sore muscles feel a little less achy.
“Looks like I’m going in for round two,” Stiles chuckled to himself, a playful glint in his eye.
The teenager, now in a much better mood, stuffed his phone into his gym shorts and began rifling through his dresser drawer for his keys. “Shit,” he muttered, rolling his eyes, “Scott must still have them from when he borrowed my car.”
Knowing he didn’t have time to waste, Stiles basically sprinted toward Scott’s house, his desire to meet up with Heather fueling his speed. As he let himself inside, knowing that Melissa was out, he headed straight for his best friend’s room, using his extra key to get in. However, as he got closer, he paused, a confused expression spreading across his freckled face.
“What’s that sound?” he thought to himself, his brow furrowing as he picked up on a series of grunts and muffled sounds of conversation coming from Scott’s room. The sounds were unexpected, making him stop in his tracks, his previous excitement replaced with a growing curiosity and a strange sense of unease.
Stiles, his confusion now mixed with a growing sense of impatience, knocked on the door, the sound echoing a little too loudly in the quiet house. He ran a hand through his messy brown hair, the nervous habit kicking in as he banged on the door again, a bit harder this time.
“Yo bro, I need the keys,” he called out, his voice slightly raised. “Scotty?”
Silence.
Stiles’s eyes widened, his mouth hanging slightly open as a strange mixture of dread and curiosity propelled him to barge into his best friend’s room. He pushed the door open with a bit too much force, his initial intention to simply grab his keys completely forgotten.
There it was. The scene unfolded before his eyes in all its shocking glory: the shaggy-haired, usually-so-innocent Scott was on all fours, his body taking the huge cock of none other than Derek Hale. Stiles stammered, his brain struggling to process the images before him. He couldn’t help but stare, his eyes drawn to the sight of Scott’s fat, bronzed ass rippling with each thrust from the large, older man behind him. Scott’s eyes were closed, his mouth open as he cried out in pleasure, completely lost in the sensation. Stiles then caught the eye of the large man behind Scott, Derek Hale, who seemed to only grin at him, a taunting glint in his eyes, before spanking his best friend’s ass even harder.
Stiles, suddenly realizing how long he had been staring, a hot flush creeping up his neck, turned to leave, wanting to unsee what he had just witnessed.
“Stiles?” he heard Scott call out, his voice a little breathy.
With a bright red face, the teenager spun around, his thoughts a jumbled mess, and stuttered as he tried to speak. “Fuck, sorry, I didn’t hear you come in,” Scott continued, his eyes rolling back with each thrust, completely unfazed by the interruption.
“You-you’re gay, bro?” Stiles finally managed to stammer out, the question a mix of shock and disbelief.
“What does it look like?” Scott laughed, his voice filled with a mixture of amusement and lust, before throwing his head back in delight as Derek suddenly grabbed his cock and began pumping it furiously, still fucking him harder than ever, the new audience only seeming to fuel their actions. The scene was chaotic and intense, leaving Stiles completely speechless and flustered.
“Fuck,” Stiles muttered, shaking his head in disbelief, as he took a few steps backwards, his mind reeling from what he’d just witnessed. He needed to get out of there, needed to process the shocking scene in private.
“Where are you going, Stiles?” Scott asked, his voice a little too calm, his red eyes staring intently at Stiles, a hint of alarm flickering within them.
“I’m-I’m…fuck, Scott, I’m telling Allison and Melissa. This is fucked up,” he spat out, his voice laced with a mix of anger and betrayal. He couldn’t believe what he’d seen, the intimacy between his best friend and Derek Hale.
“Yeah, I don’t think that’s gonna happen,” Scott replied, a sly smile spreading across his face. He then patted the pec of the man behind him, and with a smooth, almost predatory movement, Derek slid out of Scott and sauntered out of the room, his presence lingering in the air. Stiles could only watch, his jaw slightly slack, as Derek winked at him, a teasing, knowing glint in his eyes, before closing the door behind him, leaving Stiles alone with his flustered and now-naked best friend.
“I can’t have a fag as my friend,” Stiles finally said, his voice regaining a bit of its usual assertiveness, his focus sharpening. The words were laced with a prejudice he’d probably picked up from his more ignorant classmates.
“Of course you can, dummy,” Scott giggled as if the whole thing was a big joke.
“What did you just call me?” Stiles said, his brows furrowing as he approached the true alpha, now with a new intensity.
“I said, of course, you can have a fag as a friend, dummy,” Scott repeated, putting a lot of emphasis on the final word, his laughter making his tone almost condescending.
Stiles, fueled by anger and disgust, grabbed Scott by the chin, tilting his head back to look down at him with a palpable sense of disdain. “What makes you think you can call me that when I’ve just walked in on you taking another man’s dick?! Once I tell Allison, your mom, and the whole pack, it’s over, you’ll be gone before-” Stiles trailed off, unable to finish his threat, his mind still grappling with the shock of the situation, unsure of what he wanted to do with this information.
“Before what, dummy?” Scott asked slyly, his tone laced with a teasing challenge as he flashed his red eyes, locking them intently with Stiles’s. “Before your huge hard-on goes away?”
Stiles felt something take over his brain, a wave of heat and confusion washing over him. He looked down, his breath catching in his throat as he saw the unmistakable bulge straining against his shorts, a physical manifestation of the arousal that he had been desperately trying to ignore. He couldn’t help but clutch at it, a mixture of shame and overwhelming desire coursing through him, as he rubbed his temple with his other hand. “Fuck,” he trailed off, the word barely a whisper, his mind a jumbled mess of conflicting emotions.
“If you ask me, bro, you’re the one looking like a faggot right now. A dumb, horny faggot,” Scott grinned, his tone laced with a mocking amusement that further fueled Stiles’s growing frustration.
Stiles stumbled backwards, his movements jerky and uncoordinated, and stifled a moan, his body betraying his inner turmoil as a bead of pre-cum dribbled out from the tip of his throbbing erection. His eyes clenched shut, his body feeling as though it was both on fire and collapsing inward all at the same time, as a shooting pain pulsed through his head, the overwhelming sensations making it difficult to think straight.
“What…what are you doing?” Stiles gasped, his voice a strained whisper, as he found himself utterly unable to control his body’s traitorous actions. His hand, as if with a mind of its own, was still clutching at his erection, the sensation a confusing mix of shame and intense pleasure.
“I’m not doing anything, bro. It’s not like you need help being a stupid, slutty faggot. That’s what you are,” Scott replied, his tone casual and dismissive, as he got to his feet. He then crouched down before Stiles, his red stare unwavering and intense, locked onto Stiles’s eyes.
Stiles bit his lip, the sight of his own stiff cock fueling the building tension, as he began to tug at it, a small movement, a desperate attempt to find some relief. “I’m not dumb,” he eventually managed to speak, his voice tight with a mixture of defiance and insecurity.
“Oh really? Then what is the major you want to enroll in at college?” Scott laughed, his tone dripping with sarcasm, as he reached out towards Stiles’s shorts, his hand hovering teasingly close to the source of his arousal.
Stiles batted Scott’s hands away, his movements frantic and desperate, as he shuffled backwards, trying to create some distance. “I’d study… shit, my head,” he groaned, his hand flying to his temple, as the pain intensified. “I study… I don’t know,” he said confusedly, his brow furrowing as he stared up at Scott, his own brown eyes unable to break free from the menacing and controlling hold of Scott’s red gaze.
“You don’t know because it’s a trick question, dummy. You don’t go to college, remember? You never had the smarts,” Scott replied, his words cutting through the fog of Stiles’s thoughts with a chilling precision.
Stiles could’ve sworn he was ready to go to college and had been planning it for months, but Scott sounded so sure, so utterly certain. Maybe he hadn’t? A seed of doubt began to take root in his mind, the words echoing in his head.
“I told you that you were dumb. Believe me, Stiles. I’m always right,” Scott stated, his voice calm and assured as if he were stating a simple fact. The words were a cold, manipulative statement, planting themselves deep within Stiles’s mind, leaving him feeling vulnerable and unsure of himself. He was caught in a confusing web of reality and illusion, his own thoughts and memories suddenly unreliable.
Stiles hadn’t even noticed that Scott was now clutching his cock, his own hand moving unconsciously as he shuddered, a mix of fear and arousal coursing through him. “No, stop, you’re-“
“Oh, come on, bro, stop lying to yourself,” Scott interrupted, his voice dripping with condescending amusement. “You’re a stupid faggot who loves to pound bitches like me.” His words were a deliberate taunt, designed to dismantle Stiles’s sense of self.
“Was Scott right?” Stiles panicked, his thoughts spinning uncontrollably. “I’m gay?” The thought was both terrifying and strangely thrilling, and he grits his teeth as more pre-cum, thick and viscous, ran down his shaft, a physical manifestation of the inner turmoil that was raging within him.
“That’s it, big boy. Fuck, you’re such a big boy,” Scott giggled, his eyes gleaming with an almost predatory pleasure, as he began sliding Stiles’s shorts down, his touch sending shivers down his spine, and sending another jolt of panic and arousal throughout Stiles’s body.
Stiles began to sweat, his palms clammy, as he felt his arms ache a little, the lingering soreness from lacrosse practice suddenly magnified, and the muscles in his stomach tightened as his toes curled. He flung his head back, a cry escaping his lips as he felt his muscles growing, and shifting, a confusing and overwhelming experience.
“Ahhhh, Scott, fucking stop,” he moaned, his voice a desperate plea, as he tried to fight back against the growing sensations that Scott was so adept at triggering.
“Stop what, big boy? You’ve always been so fucking huge,” Scott smiled, his hand continuing its exploration of Stiles’s body, his words feeding the ego that Stiles had tried to keep hidden, as his cock, seemingly of its own volition, sprang to life, throbbing and pulsating.
“No, I’m…” he started breathlessly, his thoughts still struggling to form coherent sentences. “I’m only 7 inches.” The words were a desperate attempt to cling to some semblance of his old reality.
Scott snorted, his amusement clear, before rubbing Stiles’s body with his hands, the touch both seductive and possessive. “So humble for a top. You’re like 12 inches, just like Derek, remember? Or are you that stupid?” he laughed, his words a deliberate jab, designed to confuse and disorient. He was using the information Stiles had already seen, twisting it to his own manipulative advantage.
Tears welled up in Stiles’s eyes as he felt his cock growing and swelling, his massive dong inflating even more under the touch of the true alpha, a physical manifestation of the power that Scott held over him. He was helpless against the wave of sensation and confusion that was washing over him, his previous convictions and beliefs crumbling under the weight of Scott’s manipulation and his own undeniable arousal.
“Shhhh, that’s it, big boy, just breathe and let me do all the talking,” Scott calmly spoke, his voice a soothing contrast to the chaos raging inside Stiles, as he tugged on Stiles’s dick, his fingers expertly fondling his best friend’s sweaty balls. “Fuck, I love how being a true alpha has all the perks,” he continued, his tone filled with a self-satisfied amusement. “I thought this only worked with other werewolves, but apparently, it does with humans too.”
Stiles, however, couldn’t even hear Scott anymore. His mind felt like someone was constantly punching it, leaving him disoriented and struggling to focus. “Was he really gay? And why did it feel so good to be so big?” he thought, his brain trying to process the onslaught of conflicting sensations and emotions. His internal dialogue was a chaotic mess, unable to settle on any one thought or belief.
“So hairy,” Scott giggled, his eyes gleaming with an almost predatory delight. “There we go, big boy, just relax.” His hands continued to work their magic on Stiles’s cock, the rhythm both intoxicating and overwhelming. “I bet you can’t even remember what you were gonna tell Mom and Allison now, were you? You probably couldn’t anymore even if you wanted to because you’re the dumbest, and me, Scott, is the smartest,” Scott jeered, his words a deliberate attempt to diminish Stiles’s sense of self-worth as he furiously jerked him off.
Stiles struggled to see straight, his vision blurring as he watched his bro wrap his hands around his wobbling cock, the sight both hypnotic and intensely arousing. “Fuck, I am big,” he thought, a dumb smile creeping over his face, a fleeting moment of self-satisfaction cutting through the fog of confusion. He began to rub his muscles, the growing power surging through him as he caressed Scott’s face, his actions almost involuntary. “Stop this, dude, he’s a man,” he quickly reminded himself, his internal struggle continuing. “But I need him,” Stiles moaned, his voice thick with longing as his cock reddened further, a clear indication of his rising arousal. “I’m not…stop!” he cried out desperately, unable to reconcile his desire with his previous beliefs.
“Too late, Stiles,” Scott panted, his voice heavy with lust and triumph, the words sealing Stiles’s fate as if it were inevitable.
“But…why?” Stiles struggled to ask, the question a desperate attempt to make sense of the situation, to understand the hold that Scott had suddenly gained over him, and the confusing feelings that were now spiraling completely out of his control.
“Because I can’t let you go around telling everyone my secret, our secret,” Scott replied, his voice a dangerous mix of possessiveness and playful threat. “Consider this me shutting that sexy face of yours up. Plus, I needed a new top anyway.” He then added with a casual shrug, “As much as I love getting fucked by Isaac, Derek, and Boyd, I was getting so bored with them, and I really need the man that made me realize that I love boys.”
Scott’s voice grew more and more muffled as Stiles’s gaze drifted to his best friend’s body, now seeing him in a completely different light. His attention was captivated by Scott’s bowling-ball-like pecs, the thick muscles rippling under his skin, and his snaking cock, a dark, intriguing contrast against his tan skin. He noticed his legs, as broad as tree trunks, and his entire body dusted in a thick layer of dark hair, a display of raw masculinity that was both intimidating and intensely arousing.
“Your balls look pretty full, bro,” Scott said, his voice teasing, as he got up and slapped Stiles’s massive cock, the forceful contact making Stiles whine with a mix of pain and pleasure. He then dropped onto all fours, presenting his huge and massive, wobbly ass, a blatant invitation. “Why don’t I give you something to slap them against?” he asked, his tone suggestive and challenging.
Stiles opened his eyes slowly, his vision blurry and unfocused, to see Scott wagging and shaking his enormous, fat ass at him, the sight further fueling the chaos in his head and the growing ache in his groin.
Stiles wiped his wet face, his thoughts still a jumbled mess, and leaped up, a sudden surge of primal desire taking over, and pulled Scott by his hips towards him, his body moving before his mind could catch up.
“Fuck, I shouldn’t,” Stiles stuttered, the words barely a whisper as he spread his bro’s fat cheeks, his hands tracing the curves of his body, his resolve beginning to crumble.
“Not even if I do this?” Scott giggled, his tone playful and taunting, as he pushed and exhaled, a small amount of clear goo, mixed with all the loads that he had recently taken from Derek, dribbling out of his ass and down his thighs, the sight both shocking and incredibly arousing.
Stiles’s tongue fell out of his mouth, his inhibitions completely gone, as he dove head first into his bro’s hole, his desire completely overtaking any sense of reason or restraint.
“I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist my boy juice, Stiles. Fuck yeah, eat my cummy hole!” Scott cried out, his voice a mix of triumph and raw pleasure, surrendering himself to Stiles's tongue.
Stiles only grunted, a primal sound, as he devoured his bro’s hairy hole like an animal, completely lost in the moment. His face grew warm and wet as he burrowed deeper and deeper between his bro’s doughy cheeks, his tongue exploring every nook and cranny.
The Alpha werewolf, Scott, began bouncing against his best friend’s head, his laughter echoing through the room. “I can’t wait to do this all the time with you, Stiles. You’re so much hotter this way… I really love you, bro, but this is definitely the hottest way to shut you up,” he giggled, his words a mix of affection and teasing dominance.
“Fuck yeah!” Stiles roared inside Scott’s hole, his voice thick with lust and a newfound sense of power, as he continued feasting on his bro’s fat ass, his moans unintelligible as he swirled his tongue inside his bro’s wet and welcoming hole.
“How old are you, Stiles?” Scott teased, his tone light but filled with a knowing edge.
Stiles, completely consumed by the primal urges, merely grunted like a caveman in response and with surprising ease, flipped Scott over, his newfound strength clearly evident.
Scott could only marvel at his creation, his red eyes widening as he gazed up at Stiles. His once straight bro was now towering over him, taking up his entire field of vision. His crush, his best friend, had finally thrust his proportionally giant cock deep into his hole, a raw and powerful sensation that had him gasping with a mixture of shock and pleasure as it tunneled through him.
Scott gasped and smiled gleefully, a genuine, unrestrained joy shining in his red alpha werewolf eyes, as he felt himself growing full, both physically and emotionally. He was finally getting exactly what he had always wanted, the control, the possession, and the intimacy all intertwined.
Stiles leaned forward, causing him to impale Scott even further on his rod, his movements forceful and demanding, and then encapsulated his bro’s mouth inside his own, their breaths mingling in a hot, moist exchange, as Stiles hungrily and viciously pounded into him. Scott could feel his own brain bounce with each thrust, a physical manifestation of the intensity of the moment, as they both cried out louder and louder, their voices blending together until they came, their bodies shuddering in the aftermath. They lay together, exhausted and spent, in each other’s embrace, Stiles’s softening cock not even out of his best friend’s hole yet before it started growing again.
“I should’ve done this months ago,” Scott moaned, his mind already racing, already thinking of the next part of his plan, a dark and seductive gleam in his red eyes. While Stiles started to plow him again, he thought of giving Stiles the bite, solidifying his place at his side, and having his betas knot, creating a pack bond that would be unbreakable, ensuring that Stiles would be his forever.