Saved by the Fang
It was a nice day for the small, busy trade town. The sky was clear, the sun was bright and big puffy white clouds were high in the sky, floating lazily in the wind. As was usual for the marketplace, it was packed full of people pushing strolling carts or carrying bags full of purchased goods. Some of the less-patient shoppers shoved each other to the side, trying to reach one end of the marketplace or the other. Hundreds of vendors stood behind their wooden stands; collectively selling just about anything a normal person could possibly want. Theft was all-too common; the guards cared very little about what happened to items once they were sold and the merchants taxed. They usually only took action if the merchant stands were directly stolen from, even if they saw it with their own eyes. To them, there was no reason to risk their lives if it doesn't involve their own coin. Still, their mere presence scared most potential thieves, and they would still intervene in the more violent altercations that took place regardless of who started it or why. Bloodshed was bad for business. They stood in from of the gate to the market like statues, two facing the market proper and two facing the road to the outside world.
Approaching this bustling scene with more than a little trepidation was Martin Jaeger. Martin was a young man from a tiny village a half-days journey away; he only just made his way into the marketplace proper despite leaving before the sun even rose. His father and his friends were counting on him to get the medical supplies that Tark Hanford - the village apothecary - desperately needed. Tark's wife was in the middle of a very difficult labor, and without those supplies neither she nor the child would see the next day. Martin was young and his legs carried him swiftly, so he had been given the money and chosen to make the journey.
He walked up to the gate, until he was within a stone's throw. The burly market-guards gave him a nasty look, then shared a laugh with each other. Another country bumpkin, eh? He could see them speak. Martin desperately hoped they wouldn't give him trouble.
Although they delayed his entrance by a few minutes, throwing insulting remarks and even a single piece of copper at Martin's head, they did let him in. All was good fun and games with the teasing, but even if they didn't like it, when it came right down to it they needed the business. With some grumbling, the guards opened the door into town. Despite the wide avenues and plazas, and despite it being the middle of the day the scene was dark and dreary, almost foreboding. The poor seemed dirty and crime was omnipresent. Martin saw someone was being pulled back into an alley by a couple of thugs. Whatever that man's fate was it probably wasn't worth thinking of, so said the random people who passed by and did nothing. It was a cruel scene, but despite that it looked relatively safe if one just acted quickly, bought what they wanted, kept a low profile and left. With medicine being so expensive- one of the most difficult things to obtain and create these days- the medicine merchant was close to the door and near the guards, making it a very safe buy. His table was huge and stacked with many different forms of medicine, from pills to liquids to the pure herbs that were common base ingredients for most other healing items. He was yelling, advertising his merchandise vociferously.
Martin approached the boisterous man quietly and slipped him Tark's order form. Without even breaking his loud sales pitch, the merchant took a look at the crinkled paper and began filling a bag up with strange looking herbs, potions and poultices. When Martin reached into his coat to pay the merchant, the man grabbed the money purse from right out of his hands and put it back a half-second later. It felt considerably lighter. One of the nearby guards gave him a pointed look, and Martin thought the better of counting his remaining coin.
He departed from the merchant's table and breathed a sigh of relief. All he had to do now was make it back home.
After Martin left the front gate, the bright sun shined down on him anew as if it had granted him good fortune. The warm comfort certainly gave him a good feeling as he walked the finely-marked dirt road back to where he came from.
Some distance from the small town where no one else seemed to be around, he was suddenly grabbed by the shoulder and tossed aside to the ground. Two strong-looking, beer-scented men chuckled and grinned at the frail young man.
"So, we's was watching you buy some fancy-lookin' stuff, it seemed expensive. Someone sick, my friend?" the bald one taunted.
"Yes, maybe." Martin said. This wasn't going to end well...
A sharp dagger appeared in the air, pressed against Martin's throat. He could see a bit of old blood caking its handle. "Hand 'em over."
Summing up all the courage he had, Martin tried to reason with the thugs. "Y-you don't want to do this! There is a woman in my village with child who will die without these supplies!"
"Well, I know of a runty little fool who will die right now, if he doesn't feel like giving 'em up." the second man growled. His hair was long and greasy, hanging over his head like an executioner's hood.
Martin suppressed the urge to vomit as the murder weapon pressed insistently against his skin. He let his hands relax and the life-saving supplies were violently wrenched from his hands.
"See? I told you it'd be easier to work outside the gates!" The bald thug laughed, rifling through the bag. "Expensive stuff you have here, kid! We're going to drink like kings tonight!"
At that comment, the young man felt his blood boil. But there was little he could do...
The bald thug turned and looked over his shoulder, suddenly noticing another presence. Standing there was a tall, broad figure, hidden in a heavy brown coat and a hood over his head. A shadow was cast on his face from the hood, hiding his face. Not even his hands could be seen underneath the long coat's arms.
"There's nothing here for you, get outta here if you know what's good for ya!" Baldy yelled, face flustering.
The strange man didn't reply with words; it almost seemed as if he was growling.
As he took a step forward, the bald thug pulled out his own blade, "I told you, get out of here!" By now, the long-haired man had released Martin in favor of keeping an eye on their unwelcomed guest.
In what seemed like an instant, a savage backhand sent Baldy flying back, rolling like a barrel. A knife found its way into the side of the stranger's cloak, but it didn't appear to slow him down any. A fist hit right in the center of the long haired man's face, knocking him out cold. Something that caught Martin's attention about that moment was, only for a second, the fist was visible. It didn't look like a normal fist, it was a dark grey. The motion was too fast and blurry to tell what it was, so it was easy to assume it was a glove.
With both of them unconscious, the figure turned to face Martin. He was breathing heavily, and his face was still hidden. The hand he hadn't punched with reached out of the cloak's arm and pulled the bloody blade out, letting it drop to the ground. Without saying anything, he simply turned and began to walk away.
Martin blinked. Who, in the name of all that is holy, was that!? He thought. Quickly gathering up his liberated supplies, Martin chased after the quickly- departing man.
"Hey! Hey, stranger! Thank you, thank you so much! You just saved two lives!" He called to the cloaked figure's back, voice nearly cracking with emotion.
The man didn't respond.
"Good sir, please let me repay you! I... I don't have much coin left, but it's the least I could do!"
"I don't need your money," the mysterious stranger growled, quickening his pace. "You want to thank me? You're welcome. Now, go back to your village and be more careful next time."
That nearly stopped Martin in his tracks. What sort of city-dweller refused money? For a second, Martin considered thanking good fortune for the man's intercession and leaving it at that, but he had been raised in a town that valued thanks and hospitality. He wouldn't be much better than the cutpurses and robbers skulking around inside the city's dark warrens if he just let this man leave without showing his thanks in some way, would he?
"Wait up!" Martin yelled, trying to close the distance between them.
The two argued back and forth about reward money until they were in a small clearing in the forest, a bit off ways of the road. There was a small lake here, in front of which the cloaked man collapsed on his knees and began groaning. At first, Martin thought it might have had something to do with the stab from before, since blood was beginning to stain a long trail down the cloak's side. The stranger leaned forward, his reflection now showing in the rippling waters.
"You're bleeding a lot! Here, let me at least patch it up a little. I did just buy all this medicine, after all..." Martin offered, but was cut off.
"LEAVE. PLEASE, LEAVE, NOW!" The cloaked stranger screamed. His voice was deepening, becoming more hoarse and angrier.
What that grey glove was from before was now shown. His hand extended far enough to be revealed beyond the concealing cloth arms, showing a dark grey-furred hand with long, deadly claws. It was an incredibly scary sight, but Martin still told himself mentally that it was only a strange glove of some kind.
"I... I can't do that. I'm not going let you bleed to death, not after how you helped me!" Martin said, fighting back and swallowing his fear. The mystery man had just trounced two armed men at least as big as he was, it wouldn't be wise to anger him any more than necessary. Still... Martin knew he had to help him.
Martin walked over to where the man was kneeling and took off his cloak with shaking hands. Digging around in his bag, Martin pulled out one of the extra poultices that Tark had ordered and began to prepare it. The stranger started to protest, but became strangely calm when Martin's hands touched his shoulders. Martin began to unbutton the man's tight shirt, trying to reach the knife wound. He hoped that the injury wouldn't be too bad; his healing skills weren't anywhere near that of a real apothecary.
What Martin saw underneath the man's shirt certainly gave him pause, although not for the expected reasons.
Grey hairs were sprouting all over the man's finely muscled stomach and chest. They were growing right before his eyes, becoming thicker and longer until skin wasn't even visible, only a fur coat. It completely paralyzed Martin, who could only sit there and watch. The clawed hand rose up and pulled the hood down. What was there was an almost entirely lupine face, with only a few patches of skin where fur was quickly growing. He had sharp fangs, canine eyes, and a charcoal nose...
"I thought I told you," the man-wolf spoke awkwardly, having slight difficulty speaking human language through a muzzle, "to go on your way and leave me alone." After revealing his true self, he quickly pushed himself on top of Martin, trying to pin him down. "I can't... control myself too well. I'm just a monster when I'm like this." The creature pushed his cold nose against the frail man's neck, smelling his scent deeply while rubbing and grinding against his frame eagerly.
Martin's jaw was slack with surprise and his heart began to pound in his chest like it wanted out, but to his great credit, he didn't panic. Well, didn't panic too much. The half-wolf creature on top of him possessed a tremendously strange combination of animal savagery and human intellect in his eyes. Slowly, those inhuman eyes were being overtaken by a cloudy, primal look of lust.
"Grrr... there are only two things I can do when the change comes over me," the wolfish man growled, working a claw underneath Martin's shirt, "fight, and... fuck! I tried to warn you kid, but now we're going to have to do one of those things... right now!"
Martin saw the knife wound on the werewolf's chest seal up before his eyes and disappear into his spreading, furry pelt. At least he wouldn't have to show up at Tang's door short a poultice...
With ease, Martin's clothes were shredded to pieces by deadly wolf claws, leaving him naked. The warm, soft fur pressed against his bare skin was incredibly comfortable. Something else even more warm and not so soft began rubbing against the young man's thigh, moving up slightly until it was mashing right against Martin's own package, squishing the two together. It was definitely big and knotted, dripping pre-fluid quite heavily over the smooth skin beneath the wolf, making it slicker and easier to grind against. The pre smeared over wolf's length, coating it completely. The powerful werewolf growled at Martin and bit him hard on his shoulder. It wasn't enough to penetrate skin, but it was enough to tell him who's the bitch.
"Grrhhhrr... relax yourself, or this will not be easy..." His voice rumbled deeply, not even remotely human.
Martin writhed on the ground as the werewolf's paws held him fast to the ground, struggling with confusion. His brain felt like boiling soup, trying to come to terms with the fear and... arousal? assaulting it. "Please, don't... please?" he stammered.
The lupine stranger gave him a toothsome smile as he shifted position, moving his muzzle farther down Martin's helpless body. His wet, rough, hot tongue shot out of his muzzle as it approached Martin's hardening member, giving it long and harsh licks. The wolf's tongue danced along the head of his penis, teasing the most sensitive parts underneath. Martin's protests died in his throat as pleasure shot through his body and made him whimper.
"Tender... virgin?" the wolf growled, licking his chops as if he had just tasted fresh rabbit meat. A bit of his own preseed mixed with Martin's made his black, canine lips glisten.
The long, narrow muzzle seemed like it was a perfect fit for Martin's meat as the black rubbery lips sealed tightly over him. Each time he raised his head up and almost pulled Martin's cock out, his lupine tongue flicked over the tip and swirled around, then he pushed his mouth back over him while pressing the tongue firmly against the dripping organ. A clawed hand rolled the human balls, gently fondling them a bit. The other hand rubbed two fingers over his vulnerable pucker. Grinning, the wolf swiped up some of the pre with his fingers and then pushed them hard against Martin's ass, slipping them in slightly.
Martin would have cried out at the sudden, unexpected intrusion, but a furry paw covered up his mouth the second he opened it. His legs were firmly pinned beneath the wolf's bulk; he couldn't do anything but shake against him ineffectually. One of the wolf's powerful digits began to rub against the inside of his ass, making something in him tingle with a feeling of strange and relentless pleasure.
The werewolf had spoken truthfully earlier; his experience with the girls (and guys...) in his village had been naught but snuck kisses and uncomfortable hugs. The feeling of having his member lovingly, powerfully sucked while his ass was toyed with was more intense than any of his youthful indiscretions or naughty fantasies. Even when the werewolf gave his member dominating but soft bites, the only thought that entered Martin's mind was how he wished they were harder. A third clawed digit shot its way through his anal ring, stretching it wide. All three of the wolf's thick pawfingers were now roughly working their way in and out of his ass, preparing it for something much bigger even as they tickled his virgin prostate. This feeling - combined with the feeling of hot muzzle wrapped tightly around his cock - made him cum after only a few agonizingly-intense seconds. Martin moaned out like the bitch he now wanted to be.
Chuckles rumbled through the canine's throat, vibrating over Martin's shaft, eliciting even more moans. He didn't swallow. Instead, he rose up over the man once again and kissed him passionately, diving his tongue in between the soft human lips, dumping Martin's own cum into his mouth and smearing it all over the inside. When he broke the kiss, a thin, white string hung from their lips.
"I hope you're ready now, kid." He said. That was all the warning given. With a sudden slam, the entire thickness of Martin's very first werewolf cock was shoved inside of him. It was almost the whole thing, save for the pulsating knot pushing against the outside of his ring.
Martin spread his legs as wide as he could, letting the fur-clad predator have its way with his ass. The thick, throbbing wolfmeat now pounding into him wasn't holding back at all. All Martin could do was ride the hot cock as best as he could, and hope that the pleasure now shooting through him wouldn't make his head explode. He panted for life-sustaining breath through his cum-soaked lips, tasting his own essence with every gulp of air. When he sucked the last of it from his shaking lips, Martin found that he wanted more. He slipped one of his hands from under the werewolf's sweat-slickened fur down to his own penis and rubbed some more of his cum off it to taste.
"Good boy... drink it down..." The werewolf growled, every one of his thrusts growing faster and stronger. The boy's tight ass and the taste of virgin seed had driven the primal, sex-craved beast to a peak he rarely experienced. He gave another heaving thrust and held it inside, grinding himself roughly inside the tight rump. Holding Martin tightly, the wolf pulled him upright into his strong paws and held him fast.
"Ride." It was an order, not a request.
Nothing had ever felt so good to Martin before. He looked to the wolf in a blissful daze and nodded. It was so good, so surreal, he could hardly believe this was actually happening. He placed his hands on the wolf's chest, simply wanting to feel that masculine body while the smaller human bounced himself on top of the canine's lap. He wasn't merely riding, he was using too much force on his descents for it to be that simple. The wolf could feel it and grinned wickedly: Martin was trying to take the knot! It'd be rude to not try to help. With both of them mixing their moans together, the two of them met each other each bounce and thrust. Martin pushed himself against the painfully big knot and the werewolf gave short but very hard thrusts. Each time they did so widened Martin's anal rings just a little, until it finally slipped in. Martin gasped and his eyes went wide. As the knot popped into him, it felt like time froze.
The sudden entry felt far more painful than he had thought it'd be, but it was only a second. A single second of the most horrible pain he had ever felt, abruptly replaced by the best feeling he had ever known. At that second, the werewolf raised his head to the sky and howled so loudly that it hurt Martin's ears, but he barely even noticed. A huge surge of incredibly hot spunk filled the boy up so much that he could feel his guts bulge. The wolf hugged him, instinctively hugging him as closely as possible during his orgasm. His soft, thick fur rubbed against the human's penis, inviting it to cum onto his powerfully muscled chest.
Martin hadn't had a moment's respite since being pleasured by the werewolf's muzzle, and yet he still came. His watery juices splattered against the wolf's fur, darkening it and making it stick and matted. But the pleasure from his own member hardly registered in his mind; the feeling of the cum and knotted cock squishing around in his tender ass made it feel weak in comparison. It felt as though gallons of werewolf spunk had shot their way though his depths, but where could all of that burning, thick seed possibly go?
The werewolf licked his face with dominant but warm affection, cleaning the last bit of drying cum from it before giving him another, harder bite on his other shoulder. It broke the skin ever-so slightly, but instead of pain Martin felt only an electric shock of pleasure. The heat in his ass was suddenly joined by a tingling heat from his bitten shoulder, and Martin felt strangely dazed as a curious feeling started spreading over his body.
The werewolf's tied member adjusted inside him slightly as he held Martin even closer. "I'm sorry, boy... I couldn't help myself. It's too late for you now; just let it happen."
"L-let what happen?" Martin gasped out.
In the same fashion that he had seen grow on the grey wolf's body, lighter fur began to sprout from Martin's shoulder where he was bitten. The fur growth began to spread as he felt his insides twist, shrink and grow. The force and speed of the change hurt, but with a massive werewolf pole grinding inside him and all the cum lubricating his insides, the pain was obscured by physical pleasure. He went from groaning and yelling in pain to crying in ecstasy. It definitely hurt, but the canine senses enhanced his sexual pleasure as they settled in.
"But... but what about my village? What will they think of me? Will I be banished, hunted, killed, what?!" Martin asked in worried haste, suddenly remembering his task.
"Shhh," the werewolf comforted, putting a finger on the boy's lips just as it began to change into the beginning, vague shape of a lupine muzzle, "you'll change back to normal in an hour or so. You'll still be able to deliver that medicine you've been carrying around to whoever needs it."
"Oh... okay. I just want them to be safe..." Martin said, letting his body be taken over by the strange forces now inside it. He was surprised by his voice; it was raspy and deeper than before.
Before Martin could comment on this, a strange and painful pulling sensation came from his mouth. His nose felt like it was twisting as it turned black and wet before his eyes, and started to lengthen outward. It joined his lips and his jaws in merging into his long, pointed muzzle.
"Ahh... ahhh! Awooooooo!" Martin cried, unable to stop from howling. His limbs shook and writhed with similar wrenching feelings of change as the metamorphosis spread to them. His hands and feet felt heavy as they changed to paws, his digits becoming stubby and strong as sharp claws poked their way out of the tips. His ears- now sensitive enough to hear his own thudding heartbeat- grew into elongated points, and started moving up toward the top of his head.
Still in shock from the sudden transformation now overtaking him, Martin gasped as he saw his pubic hair grow thicker and thicker, until it became silky, cum-matted fur. Mid-way through the process, the werewolf underneath him resumed his thrusting. The cock inside Martin had been softening until the feral predator witnessed Martin's own transformation. He gave Martin short but powerful thrusts, his knot holding his member firmly inside despite Martin's shaking and convulsing. Above where the tied werewolf meat was slamming into him, a short, grey-furred tail began to wriggle its way out of Martin's ass.
The sight of the human transforming right above him and the feeling of his tight anal rings convulsing easily gave the grey werewolf a second wind. He clawed deeply along the 'newborn' wolf's thighs while he made his thrusts, pulling on his knot inside of the tight ass each time. It felt like it was slipping out more and more with each of his pulls, until it finally did slip out, a barrel full of cum splattering out of it. He immediately plugged it back up, his knot easily slipping back in, all the cum now covering making a fine, sticky lube. Then, again, he pulls out, some more sticky cum pouring out but not nearly as much as before. Gradually, he increases his pace even more, the thick knot popping in and out with loud squishes. It eventually becomes so fast that the grey creature's hips are nothing but a blur and the knot slides in as easily as the rest of his cock, Martin's ass just loose enough to barely take it that way. With this speed, it doesn't take long for both of them to cum again.
They collapse together, panting hard. The younger male almost fell asleep, but Martin was nudged back awake before that could happen.
"Hey, you can't sleep yet," the grey male smiled sweetly. It seemed that his mind was clearing now that at least some of the fucking was out of his system. "You have a trip to make."
The werewolf swatted the new pup's ass tenderly, right below where his new tail now rested. "Come on! Up at at it! Those orphans need that medicine!"
"Pregnant... woman..." Martin mumbled, trying to shake the sleep from his eyes. He stood up, feeling like a stranger in his own body. His skinny, weak body was now thick with lean but dense muscle and coated with warm, gray fur. Unconsciously, his tail wagged back and forth, still sore and wet from the hard pounding it had just received.
"Yeah, whatever, that's the spirit!" the elder werewolf cheered. The feral lust had fled from his eyes, only his keen and feral intellect shining in them now.
"Wait, do you hear that?" Martin asked. His twitching, powerful new ears had picked up a sound in the distance.
"Yes, I do..."
Off in the distance, they heard the sound of clumsy men stumbling towards them. By the way branches and leaves crunched under their oafish steps, there had to be at least five of them.
"It sounds like those thugs didn't learn their lesson," the werewolf said to Martin, giving an exasperated but excited sigh. "Boy, do you remember what I told you earlier? This shape makes you very good at two things, and we just did one of them. Are you ready to do the second?"
Martin grinned, showing off his new fangs. "Yes, yes I am..."
This is a collaboration story between myself and Delta9 (http://delta9.sofurry.com/). It was originally done in a roleplay session.