The last werewolf clan

Just as he answers, a grin cracks over his incorrigible face as he realizes how strange this situation must really be. You fix him with a stare, unsure about whether you should pretend to be angry and impatient, or let all pretense drop and show him how hungry you to have him again. Within seconds of seeing that damn grin, your native stubbornness (and a good deal of new found shyness) win out and you scowl at him.

"Sorry," he says, without moving that grin, "it must be strange sitting here chatting with a stranger you just had his fingers up your ass," He swivels around looking for something while saying, "I'm sure it's also weird that one of us is dressed and the other one isn't. I'm sure your clothes are here somewhere." He stands up and starts moving things around, "That'll... make... things... more... equal..." "Or you could take your clothes off," you say without knowing what you are doing.

"What?"

"What?"

You both stare at each other, you, stunned by what your newly invigorated libido made you say, and Alex, just stunned. Naturally, he is the one who recovers first, re-plasters that grin on his face and says, "I'm not sure that that's a good idea under the circumstances." and, as if by troll magic, Alex fishes out your clothes from behind a table. "There you go. Put those on and we can have a chat, how's that sound?"

You slowly and sulkily put your arms into your robe, feeling at first disappointed that this experience was 'officially' ending. Then, like a burst dam, you remember everything that's just happened, how you were cheated of your breeding rights, humiliated by a fairy-phobic doctor, and now developing feelings for a werewolf of all creatures. Against your best efforts, you start to cry.

"Hey, hey! It's alright!" Alex says in his soothing tenor voice. He comes over, sits next to you and wraps one of his powerful arms around you. Without saying another word, he rubs your arm and holds you close to his side waiting for you to speak, but all you do is mumble incoherently about your village and how people are going treat you now and how you're scared you're going to be raped every day.

Alex chuckles (again!) at your despondency, which gives you just enough emotional steam to pretend to be indignant - rape is no chuckling matter! But before you have a chance, he completely cuts you off by saying, "I get it."

The words get stuck in your throat and all you can say is "You do?"

He nods yes and continues, "I get what it means to come from a tight-knit, breeder-centric community,"

"What d'you mean?"

Alex took a deep breath and let go of your shoulders, then continued -

"Werewolves are highly social creatures. In the old times, things were great, our leaders were almost always female werewolves who knew how to maintain the peace between males. Once they started disappearing, clan structure broke down, and they became more and more hierarchical, with well-endowed penetrators at the top and barren ovulators at the bottom. At this point, such communities are no longer called clans - they're packs. Most packs learnt to get by with these new hierarchical rules since they have had to live without females for at least several decades. However, my pack was special - our clan mother lived well into her mid-hundreds, and became the last female werewolf in the world. She was so revered that some werewolves tried to worship her as a goddess, but eventually, even she had to die. Nine year ago, she left this world peacefully in her sleep."

"What does all that have to do with anything?" you interject.