drunk werewolf bangin

[02:55 PM] Vishia has been having much too much fun the past few weeks, but he thinks it's time to go... check in on his interests, do some business, lay low for a while and relax...

And, well, who should he see here but that cute dog, the one that was so eager to be degraded! What a wonderful evening this is already shaping up to be. Grinning to himself, teeth sharp and eyes bright, he drags his claws through his hair-- what was it, Iroquois or something, right?-- and slides his ass onto the neighboring barstool.

"Hello there, my pet," he growls, and licks his teeth. "Let me pay for that drink, why don't you."
[03:01 PM] Iroquois-Pliskin really should have been cut off a while ago. Then again, he's pretty good at pretending he's not as drunk as he is, when he doesn't need to stand, walk, or talk. As it was, he'd been sitting on his stool at the bar, quietly drinking glass after glass after glass of whiskey. He has one arm folded against the bar to help support himself, but with his perpetual frown, it mostly just looks like he's being slumped and grouchy, and not nearly as drunk as he actually is.

Maybe he wouldn't be so drunk if someone had hired him, but apparently there's no business today. His ears and tail are out, ears turns back slightly and tail hanging limp from the stool. But really, he's not entirely just here for 'work'. He's here to drink, too, so it's a win-win situation for him.

Suddenly, there's claws in his hair, and Pliskin jolts slightly, breathing in sharply through his nose in surprise, only to wobble slightly in his seat. He turns just as the person who touched him is sliding into the seat next to him- hey, he recognizes that guy, right? Pliskin has to squint a bit- yes he does. Vish-something. He can't quite remember properly.

"Mmnh, hey," He says, voice low and slightly growling, "Sure, go ahead. Not gonna say no to a free drink..."
[03:10 PM] Vishia flashes him a great big predator's grin, and tells Kamila, "I'm paying for my friend's drinks tonight, Kam. And my drinks. Get me some of what he's having." The fae grins and goes to get Vishia booze, and he leans in a little towards his pretty dog-friend. Yeah, he did need to relax tonight, and what better way...? "So, how have you been, pet?" he asks, fingers wandering from scalp to neck, dipping under his collar to claw lightly where his ruff would be, if he was more transformed.
[03:15 PM] Iroquois-Pliskin is definitely appreciative, because he was otherwise going to end up spending a LOT on drinks tonight... not that that's much of a problem. He's actually turned things around lately, been making fairly decent money, even if it's been kinda at the cost of his dignity, but whatever. He doesn't miss that quite as much as he thought he would. He takes a long sip of his whiskey, before setting the glass down, growling softly at the claws against his scalp, his, neck, just under his shirt... "Mnngh... I'm... I'm okay." He says, slumping forward slightly and tilting his head towards Vishia- his cheeks are a bit red, is that from the attention? He does seem to like it. "Been doin' alrrr-alright for myself lately."
[03:23 PM] Vishia tilts in towards him, too, and digs in his nails a little more. "That's good. Found a job?" Ahhh, booze for himself! He takes a sip of the whiskey, which is fine, and then turns all his attention on his pet.
[03:28 PM] Iroquois-Pliskin miiight be getting a bit more doggish like this, getting this kind of attention and with this much alcohol in his body. Claws clink against his glass, hands starting to go furred and padded and slightly more paw-shaped. "Mngh... Yeah, kinda." He says, glowing eyes going half-lidded as he relaxes, giving another quiet growl. "Where- What you been up to, huh? Haven't see you in... over a month??"
[03:42 PM] Vishia doesn't really answer, just kind of waves his other hand and accompanying whiskey around as he says, "Oh, around, you know. Actually, I spent a few days up in the national park after the full moon-- it's a pretty place, and very private once you're off the trails. You should come with me, sometime!" It's a good place to murder people, and a good place to fuck with people, and he'd enjoy doing the latter to his pet.

He takes another swallow, and sets his glass down, leaning in more and scratching the claws of his other hand up the weredog's thigh. "So, your new job... you don't have to get up early for it, do you? Because I was thinking how much I'd enjoy taking you home tonight."
[03:49 PM] Iroquois-Pliskin is listening as best he can, even if he feels dizzy and foggy from all the alcohol he's had. "Sounds nice. Probably like wha-where I used t'live." He says, leaning heavily against the bar. "Would love to go there with you sometime, but, ah... Got my dog to take care'f."

He's slurring slightly, as much as he tries to speak clearly. He's also struggling to make his legs stay ordinary, he doesn't want his boots to not fit, that'd be uncomfortable. And is... Vish-something flirting with him? He thinks he might be. The other werewolf doesn't seem the kind of guy to just invite someone over for only a friendly chat. "Mmnnh... Y'don't have to worry 'bout that. I'm available."

After all, his 'job' usually winds up with him at a hotel overnight anyways.
[03:56 PM] Vishia laughs. "They do have pet hotels in this city, my very, very handsome friend. Surely your dog could survive a few days being pampered by someone else?" Also, hello Available, this is Vishia's hand very, very close to your crotch.
[03:59 PM] Iroquois-Pliskin takes another drink of his whiskey- downing the rest of his glass, even- before pushing the glass away and leaning a bit closer to Vishia, the smell of whiskey very, very strong on his breath. "Then I guess I'll have to consd-consider it, huh?"

Pliskin is plenty fine with that hand so very close to his crotch. In fact, he shifts in his seat in an attempt to push his hips a little further into that touch, but with how he's leaning, that just makes him lose his balance. He almost slides right off the stool, before he manages to catch himself against the bar. Good job looking ridiculous, dumbass. "Shit..."
[04:05 PM] Vishia laughs, and helps him straighten up, and-- well, hey, as long as he's here-- leans in to dig his nails into Iroquois' back and bite his lower lip, not particularly gently. "Let's go," he whispers, "so I can fuck you, dog."

Then he straightens up, and flashes his teeth at Kam in a friendly way, and tosses her his credit card.
[04:09 PM] Iroquois-Pliskin is assisted in straightening up, which is nice, and he's also got claws against his back and teeth on his lip, and it makes him growl a bit more eagerly, leaning into it to give a slightly aggressive kiss- but only slightly, and the returning bite is more of a glancing nip, messy and imprecise. He exhales slow at the sound of Vishia's voice, only catching a couple of those words, but it's the important once.

"Yeah." Is all he manages to say in his current state, as he slides off the stool completely and onto his feet- and boy is he wobbly on those, leaning heavily against Vishia to keep himself from stumbling so much that he might fall down. "Mngh, shit..."
[04:19 PM] Vishia tells Kamila, "I'll come back for my card tomorrow," and-- with a grin like he loves this (which he does, he absolutely delights in putting this man into subservient positions)-- sweeps Iroquois up into a princess carry, and leans his head down, and bites his throat, harshly. "Come on, let's get you out of here," he murmurs, and chomps again, a little more gently.
[04:26 PM] Iroquois-Pliskin actually gives a funny nearly-canine noise of surprise when he's suddenly swept up because he is too drunk and whERE DID THE GROUND GO IS HE FALLING, WHERE IS GRAVITY?? But, no, he feels strong hands under his legs and at his back, and he hasn't hit the ground, so his drink-addled mind slowly pieces things together and... oh. What the hell, don't carry him like this, this is embarrassing, it's- But before he can say anything, there's teeth at his throat, making his ears turn back and his tail bristle, and he snarls... only for that voice to promptly soothe him, no, yes, he liked that, and the second bite just makes him growl softly, tilting his head back, face pretty red from both the attention and very much the amount of alcohol he's had to drink.

"Nnngh, r-right, yeah..." He mumbles, hazy glowing eyes turned to the ceiling, vision spinning. "Out- Outta here... Good idea."
[04:43 PM] Vishia is pretty sure the man is far too drunk to have sex with, and doesn't give any damns, except that he's probably going to be even easier to treat like dirt and exploit and get to do anything Vishia wants-- and, because Vishia is a gross and terrible person, this is right up his gross and terrible alley.

It's no effort to carry the man out, or a few blocks down the street, where he decided the benefits of a motel are many (especially that it'll get him laid faster) and that he knows the door of one of the rooms here, in the back, doesn't lock properly, so he can just shove it open with one hand and kick it closed behind him and dump Iroquois on the bed.

"Hey there, dog," he growls, crawling onto the bed atop him, and bites him again, claws digging into his hips and teeth scraping his shoulder. "I'm going to treat you TERRIBLY tonight. I'm going to fuck you raw and sore,and pull on your tail, and make you bleed all over the sheets while I tear you apart. How does that sound?"
[04:57 PM] Iroquois-Pliskin is really feeling that last glass of whiskey, and the one before that, and before that, and how many did he even have? He groans softly as Vishia carries him away from the bar, and wonders if he remembered to put his jacket back on. His smokes were in there. But his body is so warm from the alcohol, he can't tell if he's cold or not. He supposes he'll figure it out later. The ceiling has been replaced with the night sky, clouds and a few stars ahead, and no less spinning, no matter how hard he tries to concentrate on a single shining dot.

Pliskin was just mumbling something against Vishia's shoulder about wanting another drink, when suddenly the sky is gone again, and they're through a door, and suddenly his world and gravity are upturned again, until suddenly he's on his back on something soft- oh, a bed. Nice. And there's the handsome man he met at the bar, and Pliskin offers him a lazy smirk, a tilt of his head, and he's given claws and teeth in return, making him growl and groan, hips rolling slightly despite the claws digging into them.

"Nnngh... Just try not to... to leave me with too many scars, huh?" He mumbles, apparently not terribly worried- werewolves heal exceedingly well, of course, even outside the full moon, and it's pretty difficult to permanently scar one unless the wounds are very, very deep. "Kinda like ther- the way I look, y'know? Heh..."
[08:06 PM] Vishia laughs outright, and growls, lower, "No promises, dog," before he admits, voice husky and barely above a breath, "But I like the way you look, too. It makes me want to wrestle you down and claim every inch of you, breed with you until you're leaking with my cum, chain you to the posts of a bed and make you beg for me to knot your mouth, claw stripes in your fur until it's dark with blood and you've come all over yourself."
[08:14 PM] Iroquois-Pliskin groans low and growling, face getting redder, a shudder running down his spine. Iroquois has had a good few clients by now, other werewolves, that were terribly rough with him, all in ways he enjoyed even if it wasn't intended to be for his enjoyment, but something tells him Vishia is planning to be on an entirely different level than them. And ordinarily, he might be adventurously wary. But with alcohol addling his mind, all he can think of is that delicious sounding voice, husky and low and dripping with desire for him, his body, and it makes Iroquois growl in return.

"Glad to know you like how I look." He says, laying flat on his back and letting his hands come to rest against Vishia's arms, claws scraping slightly. His legs itch, and he can tell they want to change, but he can't, has to resist- it's terribly uncomfortable to let his legs change shape when he's still wearing boots. "If you didn't, I'd kinda have to question why you brought me here."
[08:37 PM] Vishia DOES have a delicious voice! It's one of his good points. The other one is that he's got nice fur when he's a wolf. There we go, all two of his good points.

"Well, maybe I would have brought you here because I love to hear you whimper and growls," he suggests, and claws straight through the fabric of the dog's pants, drawing blood, "or because I was yearning for someone to hurt, and you're so willing to be hurt, or because I'm secretly a vampwolf and needed a taste of your blood--" and he claws again, peeling the torn fabric away from Iroquois' thigh and scratching him nearly to the base of his sheathe before bending down and licking up every drop. Hnnnn.
[08:46 PM] Iroquois-Pliskin is still having a hard time focusing enough to listen to every word, his head swimming and vision blurred, but he thinks he gets the gist, especially when suddenly those claws tear right through his pants and skin, making him tilt his head back to give a very loud snarl, baring sharp teeth. "Grrrnngh!!" And now he's barely even listening at all, breathing quickened as his thighs burn, hot blood dribbling from the fresh wounds, and if he were more sober he'd probably complain about  his clothes being ruined. But right now he's a little bit busy squirming against the bed, his own claws digging into Vishia's arms, dragging slowly down them.

"F-Fuck!" He cusses, legs bending, and he thinks he can feel something else warm and wet against his thigh besides his own blood. Iroquois manages to look down, squinting, barely able to make out Vishia's head so close to his still-clothed groin, lapping at his blood. "Nnngh, shit, coulda... coulda warned me, m-maybe."

Technically, he did warn you, you're just drumb and drunk.
[08:48 PM] Vishia asks, "Didn't I already say I was going to tear you apart?" and bites him, hard and deep, right in the muscle of his thigh, before licking that, too.

Healing spit, yeah!
[08:52 PM] Iroquois-Pliskin definitely forgot, yep. "Mnngh... G-Guess you did." He mumbles, before snarling again at being bitten so hard. He takes his hands from Vishia's arms, letting his claws rake against them on the way, and then buries one in his own hair, pushing back his bangs, and the other in Vishia's, claws against his scalp. "Augh, just... d-don't bite my junk at least, huh?"
[08:57 PM] Vishia agrees, "I want the blood in your cock to stay there, don't worry. The rest of you, though..." He keeps shredding his dog's pants, growling delightedly to himself, and moves away long enough to tear the boots off Iroquois' feet and toss them against the far wall, and then he bites and manhandles his way back up to Dicktown, hands under Iroquois' thighs to shove them back against his chest and harsh teeth nipping at his handsome ass, his already-scratched and scraped thighs, leaving a bleeding bruise just barely a few fingerwidths away from his favorite pet's balls.
[09:10 PM] Iroquois-Pliskin should probably be thankful with how drunk he is, and the anesthetic properties of alcohol, because this would be much more painful otherwise, teetering on maybe a bit too much for sexually pleasurable. He's more for being beaten than being torn open. But for right now, he doesn't terribly mind, squirming and growling and snarling, hips rolling and wiggling into the 'affection', at least until his legs are suddenly shoved up to his chest, bending him and leaving his ass more exposed.

The bite so close to his balls even makes him flinch, a little too close for comfort, not that he has a mind to complain. "Can't- nnh... Can't undress me like a normal person, huh?" He teases, eyes shut a bit tight, but vaguely aware of more and more of his flesh being exposed as his pants are further ripped away. He only becomes aware of his boots being gone when he realizes his legs, in the absence of footwear, immediately shifted to a more canine shape- fur appearing all up his legs and thighs at once, only to immediately become messy with blood.
[10:21 PM] Vishia: Do normal people not rip the clothes off your body? Where do they find the restraint?
[10:24 PM] Vishia is grinning, and mouths with a smidge more care at the dog's sheathe, not actually biting or drawing blood this time! Or at least not with his teeth! There's some nail-scratching going on, just before he reaches into the pocket of his own jacket and drags out a bottle of lube, squeezing it to drizzle the body-warm, slick liquid across his pet's pretty little hole.
[10:25 PM] Vishia is living the life of a bad yaoi stereotypical plot, and always has lube with him..
[10:32 PM] Iroquois-Pliskin's pants are apparently shredded enough to leave the important bits needed for these activities bare, and he shudders slightly, especially when he suddenly feels the ooze of lube against his ass. Even with blood dribbling across his thighs, that's still a slightly startling feeling. "Nnngh... Guess they don't wanna have to deal with getting me replacements." He manages to say, tilting his head with his eyes still shut tight. "Or mayn- maybe they have better manners."

He chuckles at his own barely-joke, only to stop and hiss at a throb of stinging pain from one of his open gashes, toes curling. "Fuck, that stings..." he murmurs. How you're having fun with just that sheathe, though, Vishia, because it's a bit hard to get it up when you're this drunk.
[10:35 PM] Vishia's fine with the sheathe, it's a good place to put his mouth while he's putting werewolf claws up Pliskin's butt. :D
[10:37 PM] Iroquois-Pliskin gives a loud whine at those werewolf claws up his butt, ending it with a drawn out whimper, though to be honest, it still doesn't hurt nearly as much as the wounds on his legs, the blood of which is starting to dribble down to stain the sheets. Which is exactly what Vishia wanted, wasn't it? Iroquois cusses under his breath, tilting his head back and finally managing to reopen his eyes, though he can't focus them on anything. The ceiling fan isn't even turned on, and it's still a spinning blur.
[12:08 PM] Vishia loves the whine and he loves the whimper, and loves how helpless and overwhelmed the dog sounds and smells and [b]is[/b] under his harsh treatment, roughly thrusting his fingers deeper and not being very careful with his claws at all. "God, you're loud," he growls, not at all displeased. "I should bring a muzzle next time, and a choke chain, drag on it until you can't breathe enough to whine while I get you ready for my cock." His very, very hard cock, which is still unfortunately trapped in his clothes-- he'll fix that in a minute, though, after he lays more rough licks along his pet's sheathe and nipped his way to the man's hip, where he bites again, hard.
[12:15 PM] Iroquois-Pliskin's hips rock slightly into the thrusts of those clawed digits, and again he should probably be thankful for the anesthetic properties of the vast amount of alcohol he drank, because that really dulls the sharp, scraping pains inside of him to more of an ache that he can actually enjoy... for now.

"Nnnnhh- J-just earlier I thought you said you w- loved to hear me whimper 'n' shit." He mumbles between slightly restrained grunts and whines. "Giving me some merxed signals here."

The bite to his hip makes him jerk slightly, hissing and snarling through sharp, bared teeth, his back arching. As the gashes on his thighs continue to bleed, the sheets beneath him start to get downright damp with blood in a few spots.
[12:25 PM] Vishia growls at the questioning and bites again, and then pulls away entirely, hands off and teeth and mouth wet with blood, and he waits for the dog to look at him before licking his teeth and grinning, eyes blazing in the dimness and broad shoulders rising and falling with his deep, eager breaths. "I do," he says, voice warm and hungry and very, very dark as he undoes his pants. "I want to hear every noise you make when I fuck you, dog. And I want to hear you wheezing and struggling for breath, too. I want to hear you choke and cough as I control every inhale you're allowed to take." He pulls his cock out with one hand, and runs the other up over Pliskin's shirt, to his throat, to close around it, very lightly. "I want you to struggle and cry out and beg for mercy," he adds, voice going quieter, more growling, as he leans closer, fingers tightening one by one.
[12:32 PM] Iroquois-Pliskin gives a short, sharp intake of breath at the second bite before Vishia is suddenly entirely off him, and despite his haze, that certainly catches his curiosity, and Iroquois drags his dizzy eyes over to look at Vishia, frowning slightly... just in time to watch the man undoing his pants (and having to squint a little to watch better, because the world is rude and won't stop spinning) as he starts to go on and on about what he wants to do to Pliskin.

And poor Pliskin manages to miss about half of that, too busy checking out that nice cock presented just for him, blurry as it is. Something about fucking, and breath, but he thinks he can piece it together after that hand snakes up his chest, over his t-shirt, and around his throat, making him gasp softly. He's not even trying to listen anymore, concentrating instead on the slowly tightening grip around his throat, and trying to take in enough air before he won't be able to. His claws curl into the sheets beneath him, as he lets out a long, low, quiet growl.
[12:39 PM] Vishia's transformations have very good manners; it's only now that his ears go pitch-black and sharp and furred, perked forward in eager anticipation. "You like that too, don't you? You're so filthy," he growls, and leans down to bite his lip, bite his cheekbone, nip the furred tip of his ear. "You want to be owned, you want to be mastered and torn apart. You want every disgusting thing I can think of, mutt, don't you?" He lets the other wolf breathe, just enough to answer or whine or growl, even as he digs in his claws in a sharp, dangerously prickling line under Pliskin's ear.
[12:46 PM] Iroquois-Pliskin does like that, yes. At least, he thinks he does. The alcohol makes thinking a little hard. But right now, he's pretty sure he's having positive feelings. He takes in a quick breath when the grip on his neck loosens, and then promptly lets it out first as a low groan. And then he says, "Sounds good..." In a growling tone, hazy, half-lidded eyes staring right at what he's pretty sure is Vishia's face. "But especially want you to fuck me."