Blue stood his ground as Lofgren approached; he knew Lofgren liked it when he just stayed still. Fear pecked him at like a persistent bird with a sharp, unforgiving beak, piercing his skin to get at his beaten insides, but he refused to move. Blue settled slightly as Lofgren reached out and gently pressed his hand to his forehead. Checking for a fever, seeing if an infection was raging through Blue's body. Despite the sorry look of his arm, Blue wasn't warm, and Lofgren's easy dismissal of this worry was evident.<i>That's good</i>, Blue thought, relieved. He leaned into Lofgren's hand as a show of obedience, of willingness, if only so Lofgren would take him away from here, anywhere else. Blue was willing to play the game for as long as it took for him to escape, and if Lofgren wanted him to be a sweet boy, he could be the sweetest.<br/><br/>But as Lofgren pulled his hand back and struck Blue across the face, knocking him down to the ground as if Blue were no more than a weak child, Blue realized the truth. He cried out as pain burst forth from his mouth and spread violently along his jaw. Blue brought trembling fingers up to his face and pressed them against his bottom lip, which had already begun to swell. When he pulled his hand away, his fingers were covered in bright red blood.<br/><br/>Lofgren's warning was a deep, angry growl, and although Blue should have been smart and cowered in response like he was sure his rapist wanted, a look of pure hatred took hold of the beaten boy's face. There was a fire in his eyes as he glared at the naked man, his lip curling in disgust as Lofgren chastised him. Controlling his face was something Blue had always had problems with, ever since he was a young child. Polite words meant very little when they were paired with a dissatisfied glare or a condescending upturn of the nose, and even after countless nagging from his parents and former boyfriends about how his face revealed all his secrets, Blue still hadn't managed to temper his expressions. If only poor Blue had made some kind of effort before now, challenged himself in the mirror, in front of others, something,<i>anything</i>, it would have helped him. But it seemed Blue was destined to learn things the hard way. Perhaps, with Lofgren, there was no other way.<br/><br/>More pain erupted from Blue's already aching skull as Lofgren tangled his fingers into his dark locks, dragging Blue so ferociously that all he could do was squeal and stumble on his way down to the water. “Lofgren,” he panted, flailing wildly as he was pulled and then pushed, his head completely submerged underneath the water's surface. Were Blue calm, perhaps the experience wouldn't have been so horrifying, but terrified gasps beneath the water left Blue with his lungs burning and body fighting desperately to be released from Lofgren's grasp. He pounded against the man's hard body, eliciting absolutely no response from him as if he never felt pain. When Lofgren finally let up breach the surface, Blue arose coughing, hacking, the water he had wanted so desperately now an enemy like everything else in the forest.<br/><br/>“Please,” he begged as he was held, so close to the alpha's body like one might hold a lover. He didn't want the other wolves to know about his fondness for breath play, especially is it was unlikely any of the other wolves would do it right. They would crush his windpipe, he was sure of it, they would kill him if they did it incorrectly. But Lofgren said it anyway, planting the seed in the wolves' heads for later when they would have their turn at him.<br/><br/>“Pl--” he started again, but his head was already underwater before he could finish the word. Lofgren kept doing this, again and again, letting Blue struggle against him and beg for mercy each time he was given air. At one point, Blue wrapped his arms around Lofgren's shoulders, trying to pull himself up and cling to the man's body, whispering into his ear that he would be a good boy, the best boy,<i>his</i>boy, holding Lofgren as if he were madly in love with the man, their faces close and Blue's harsh breath gracing Lofgren's face.<br/><br/>But it didn't matter. Nothing Blue said or did ever mattered, and Lofgren continued to dunk him until he grew bored, leaving Blue's limp, tired body in the water as he exited. Slowly, Blue waded over to the bank, clutching at the rocky ground and dragging his beaten form only halfway out before collapsing in a heap of hacking, sickening coughs.<br/><br/>Blue twitched his head slightly as Lofgren called, unwilling to move much more than that, but his body pushed forward of its own volition as Lofgren snarled his commands, his muscles urging him to continue on, to just fucking listen to avoid any more punishment. His eyes darted up quickly to see the man Lofgren was referring to and so Blue crawled to him on his hands and knees, settling himself before Jamsen in a kneeling position, his eyes pointed toward the wet ground.<br/><br/><i>Jamsen. Apparently, we all have stupid fucking names</i>, Blue thought bitterly, hoping that any displeasure on his face would go unnoticed as he continued to stare downward. Following orders seemed to have settled Lofgren for the time being, but that calm probably wouldn't stay.<br/><br/>Being the stubborn boy he was, Blue couldn't keep his gaze down for long, and after a few moments of tense silence, he lifted his head to Jamsen, revealing the large red mark that had formed along his mouth where Lofgren had struck him and his swollen, broken lip.<br/><br/>“You going to fuck me too?” Blue asked, sounding bored, although he was just worn out. Jamsen looked a few years older than Lofgren, with graying edges and skin that looked slightly more beaten by the sun. Blue was sure he knew which wolf this was. He had followed Blue the closest, was most aggressive in keeping him in line, although he had never gotten<i>too </i>close. The one with the white mask that stretched across his eyes and the patch of light hair on his otherwise dark muzzle.<br/><br/>Blue coughed again, spitting out the last bit of water that had made it into his lungs. He couldn't understand how the wolves could possibly find him appealing. When Lofgren found him, wandering through the forest with its unknown dangers, Blue had been clean, healthy and lovely. It made sense that Lofgren would want him. But in less than a day his body had deteriorated immensely thanks to the various beatings Lofgren had given him. The teeth, his hand, his cock, all of them had harmed Blue in some fashion, leaving him bloody and torn. Instead of turning the wolves off, Blue's beaten state seemed to encourage them further, and although he kept his eyes trained on Jamsen, his peripheral vision could see them, their paws—or feet, for those who had transformed back into humans—shifting eagerly, waiting for their turn to use him.<br/><br/>“Please,” Blue whispered softly, his body sagging to the ground as he waited for someone to grab him, pull him, shove him, anything. “Please don't choke me. That's all I ask.”