Title: Before The Wolverine
Author: Got game and co written by White Wolverine
Genre: Angst
Rating: R for violence, lemons, yaio, and torture.
Summary: Before the claws, before the Wolverine, Logan was a wanted man for sick experiments. This graphic story tells of Logan's life before he lost his memory, and when he got his claws. WARNING! Explicit, torture, rape,
yaio, do NOT read if this doesn't appeal.
BEFORE THE WOLVERINE
Hey ya'll! Got Game and White Wolverine here (The sadists who wrote this).
This is the first chapter of many and I can tell you it will be an interesting and bumpy ride. This chapter is so messed up, I know. I wrote this chappie a while back though, and I just didn't have the courage to put
it on the site yet. Future chappies will be better I can tell you. This story will have graphic torture of when Wolvie get's his claws along with other torture episodes, romance, rape, yaio. Just stick with us on this,
please, the chappies will be better, I promise you!!
CHAPTER ONE: The Man in Black
A dark haired man stood at the bar in Canada, ordering a beer, running a lean hand through his unruly hair. A blond haired, buxom woman saw the man and licked her lips. He had lean strong muscles, he was tall and his dark hair shaded his striking face. She felt lightheaded looking at him.
"Hey handsome..." She smiled stroking his arm. He flinched at her touch. "You looking for a good time?" She grinned, oblivious to his shudder. He didn't answer for a while.
"Not today," He finally said. The girl pouted and sat down next to him.
"Why not gorgeous?" He turned to face her, and her breath felt as if it was knocked out of her body. He had the most intense deep eyes she had ever seen, stunning facial structure. She persisted, knowing that with these looks, he must be big. Her hands rested on his thigh, and she slyly worked her way into his crotch. She was only able to sweep him before he turned away.
"Fuck, I said no," He grabbed his beer and got up.
"Hey scum, you didn't pay for your drink." The bartender called. Logan rolled his eyes and walked out the door.
He didn't care if they came after him to get the fucking five bucks. Everyone was after him anyway. The police, slutty women, the gangs, the guys who want to see if it's true that if he's pierced with a bullet, he's fine within a matter of seconds.
If he didn't have his healing powers, he would be dead about thirty times by now. He didn't have anything to live for anyway. Sometimes it was a curse having healing powers, and sometimes he was so thankful. Logan was so confused; he just couldn't figure himself out. What was he? He had been alive for seventy years and he had not aged since he was twenty five. Why couldn't he die?
Logan shrugged it off and tugged at his leather jacket.
"Damn it's cold..." He whispered to no one. He had no one. He trusted no one. Lighting a cigar, he turned the corner, looking for his motorcycle. It wasn't there. He just rolled his eyes, there were too many scammers in the world, he wouldn't bother to look.
Turning around to head to his apartment, he walked past an alley, shuddering, remembering the gangs that wanted to pick a fight with 'The man who never dies'. Now he figured he didn't get hunted down because people realized that he was dangerous to mess with. At least he hoped they knew that. He wouldn't tolerate the torture anymore.
Lost in a world-win of thoughts, he walked right past a man covered by a black hood. The man stared him down, and watched him pass, Logan unusually oblivious to this. The man smirked, shaded by the hood, and pointed to him slightly.
Logan turned the corner again and was suddenly assaulted by eight men. Logan's hands flew out of their pockets, and he punched one of them, while two others pushed him to the ground. Logan twisted and kicked the two in the stomach, one so hard, that he disappeared to throw up. Grabbing two men's hands he threw them on the ground and stood up, facing a gun to his chest. The man didn't hesitate.
Logan was used to the metal of the bullets in his body by now, but they still hurt like hell. He staggered, but soon attacked the man with the gun. Getting two more good shots in Logan's abdomen and chest, the men started to run away, all scared and white as if they had seen a ghost. They stopped before scampering down the street to greet the man in black, grabbing a brown pouch from him.
The man peered around the corner into the ally way. He could hear Logan coughing, and then he heard the sound of metal dropping on the ground. Logan's chest was ablaze. His healing regenerators were trying to get the bullets out. He guessed that it would not hurt so much to be shot if you died right after. He was still standing using the wall for support, begging the healing factors to work faster.
When there was only one bullet left, Logan gathered his wits and started to walk, the man in black hiding himself around the next ally way. Logan wiped the remaining blood away from his face and felt the final bullet drop from his body. He didn't question why someone would attack him anymore. It would just hurt him further. Cracking his neck, he continued walking, slower and more cautious.
The man in the black coat smiled. That was him. That was the mutant. The one with the unlimited healing powers. The one man he needed for his experimentation. Looking at the mutant's face, he was surprised to see how beautiful he was. Well then. That was an added bonus. He would use him for his hungry pleasure too.
Author: Got game and co written by White Wolverine
Genre: Angst
Rating: R for violence, lemons, yaio, and torture.
Summary: Before the claws, before the Wolverine, Logan was a wanted man for sick experiments. This graphic story tells of Logan's life before he lost his memory, and when he got his claws. WARNING! Explicit, torture, rape,
yaio, do NOT read if this doesn't appeal.
BEFORE THE WOLVERINE
Hey ya'll! Got Game and White Wolverine here (The sadists who wrote this).
This is the first chapter of many and I can tell you it will be an interesting and bumpy ride. This chapter is so messed up, I know. I wrote this chappie a while back though, and I just didn't have the courage to put
it on the site yet. Future chappies will be better I can tell you. This story will have graphic torture of when Wolvie get's his claws along with other torture episodes, romance, rape, yaio. Just stick with us on this,
please, the chappies will be better, I promise you!!
CHAPTER ONE: The Man in Black
A dark haired man stood at the bar in Canada, ordering a beer, running a lean hand through his unruly hair. A blond haired, buxom woman saw the man and licked her lips. He had lean strong muscles, he was tall and his dark hair shaded his striking face. She felt lightheaded looking at him.
"Hey handsome..." She smiled stroking his arm. He flinched at her touch. "You looking for a good time?" She grinned, oblivious to his shudder. He didn't answer for a while.
"Not today," He finally said. The girl pouted and sat down next to him.
"Why not gorgeous?" He turned to face her, and her breath felt as if it was knocked out of her body. He had the most intense deep eyes she had ever seen, stunning facial structure. She persisted, knowing that with these looks, he must be big. Her hands rested on his thigh, and she slyly worked her way into his crotch. She was only able to sweep him before he turned away.
"Fuck, I said no," He grabbed his beer and got up.
"Hey scum, you didn't pay for your drink." The bartender called. Logan rolled his eyes and walked out the door.
He didn't care if they came after him to get the fucking five bucks. Everyone was after him anyway. The police, slutty women, the gangs, the guys who want to see if it's true that if he's pierced with a bullet, he's fine within a matter of seconds.
If he didn't have his healing powers, he would be dead about thirty times by now. He didn't have anything to live for anyway. Sometimes it was a curse having healing powers, and sometimes he was so thankful. Logan was so confused; he just couldn't figure himself out. What was he? He had been alive for seventy years and he had not aged since he was twenty five. Why couldn't he die?
Logan shrugged it off and tugged at his leather jacket.
"Damn it's cold..." He whispered to no one. He had no one. He trusted no one. Lighting a cigar, he turned the corner, looking for his motorcycle. It wasn't there. He just rolled his eyes, there were too many scammers in the world, he wouldn't bother to look.
Turning around to head to his apartment, he walked past an alley, shuddering, remembering the gangs that wanted to pick a fight with 'The man who never dies'. Now he figured he didn't get hunted down because people realized that he was dangerous to mess with. At least he hoped they knew that. He wouldn't tolerate the torture anymore.
Lost in a world-win of thoughts, he walked right past a man covered by a black hood. The man stared him down, and watched him pass, Logan unusually oblivious to this. The man smirked, shaded by the hood, and pointed to him slightly.
Logan turned the corner again and was suddenly assaulted by eight men. Logan's hands flew out of their pockets, and he punched one of them, while two others pushed him to the ground. Logan twisted and kicked the two in the stomach, one so hard, that he disappeared to throw up. Grabbing two men's hands he threw them on the ground and stood up, facing a gun to his chest. The man didn't hesitate.
Logan was used to the metal of the bullets in his body by now, but they still hurt like hell. He staggered, but soon attacked the man with the gun. Getting two more good shots in Logan's abdomen and chest, the men started to run away, all scared and white as if they had seen a ghost. They stopped before scampering down the street to greet the man in black, grabbing a brown pouch from him.
The man peered around the corner into the ally way. He could hear Logan coughing, and then he heard the sound of metal dropping on the ground. Logan's chest was ablaze. His healing regenerators were trying to get the bullets out. He guessed that it would not hurt so much to be shot if you died right after. He was still standing using the wall for support, begging the healing factors to work faster.
When there was only one bullet left, Logan gathered his wits and started to walk, the man in black hiding himself around the next ally way. Logan wiped the remaining blood away from his face and felt the final bullet drop from his body. He didn't question why someone would attack him anymore. It would just hurt him further. Cracking his neck, he continued walking, slower and more cautious.
The man in the black coat smiled. That was him. That was the mutant. The one with the unlimited healing powers. The one man he needed for his experimentation. Looking at the mutant's face, he was surprised to see how beautiful he was. Well then. That was an added bonus. He would use him for his hungry pleasure too.