FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Harsh and shrill, the peal of the animal shelter's phone initiated a sympathetic howl from its canine tenants. More irritating than fingernails on a chalkboard, the horrendous clamor magnified as every stray joined the discordant chorus. Wanda ignored the ruckus, desperate to finish her paperwork and be home ahead of the looming blizzard. Already an hour past normal operating hours, no compunction to respond to a new problem tormented her conscience. Whoever was calling would just have to leave a message and wait until morning, or whenever travel was safe again.

After only three rings, the electronic nuisance and its accompanying off-key vocalists mercifully fell silent, but Wanda knew the peace would not last. Voice mail was programmed to follow the fourth chime. Gavin must have answered.

Any other day, Wanda would have been grateful for her favorite employee's diligence and attention to duty, but tonight she was gripped by an uneasy sense of foreboding. Perhaps it was brought on by the weather, perhaps for no rational reason at all, but the feeling left her wishing Gavin had slacked for once and let the call go. Isolated in a rural, Midwestern community, there was no chance of roadside assistance if she became stranded on her way home. Sure enough, Gavin was soon in her office wearing a concerned frown and a matching furrowed brow twisting the features of his usually placid and easy going demeanor into the physical manifestation of Wanda's private dread.

"You're gonna wanna take this one, boss. Above my pay grade fer sure."

Originating from somewhere in the backwoods of Kentucky, the skinny Appalachian refugee in his baggy overalls loomed over her desk like a living scarecrow. Even his hair was straw-like in texture and color. Quiet, soft-spoken, and stealthy, he had an inadvertent habit of startling people with his sudden, disquieting presence.

Those of long acquaintance, like Wanda, knew better than to take fright. Gavin was a pacifist and an avowed caretaker of the under trodden. His heart brimmed with endless capacity for compassion, especially to those born with furry pelts. No sweeter or gentler human soul resided within a hundred miles.

"Really, Gavin. I should be leaving..." Wanda glanced at the anachronistic analog clock on the wall. "...Should have left an hour ago."

Gavin shrugged his bony shoulders and stared petulantly at the phone on Wanda's desk with its flashing hold light. No lonely, caged puppy could have appeared more forlorn. Only one meaning ever accompanied that look; some poor animal was in need of help. Every rational inner voice warned Wanda to say no, but her heart was as dedicated as Gavin's toward their common passion.

"All right," she surrendered, jabbing her finger at the speaker button. "Wanda Lynch, Garney County Animal Shelter Administrator."

"Oh, awesome! You didn't hang up," blurted an anxious, young female voice.

"Why would we do that, ma'am?" responded Wanda, rolling her eyes. "How may I help you?"

"Like I explained to the other guy, this is a really odd situation, so bear with me please. I'll be as brief as I can. A storm is about to bury us in a deep freeze. I can't stay here."

"We are aware of the weather and appreciate the need for haste."

Wanda did her best to minimize the sarcastic taint threatening to subsume her official, helpful voice.

"Oh? Yeah. Ha. Ha. Of course. Well, it's like this. I've been dog sitting at a place way out past Clemmon's Junction. I have to leave, and I'm worried about the dogs. Their owner said they have to stay here, and I have to go, and what if the power goes out and they freeze? I couldn't live with that."

"Where is the owner?"

"In Europe...or was. He's on a flight back, but the storm's re-routing everything back to the coast. He might not return for days."

"Is there a generator?"

"I don't think so. It's an old farm house. Large, but primitive and isolated."

"Does it have a fireplace?"

"Yes. There's a pot bellied stove that heats the place good, but I can't leave that going alone. The house might burn down, and it'll only last half the night at best. The temperature is supposed to be twenty below for a couple of days at least."

"If you have enough food, why don't you just shelter with them until the storm is over and the owner returns?"

"I would, but I need the money from this gig, and the owner says he won't pay me a dime if I stay past today." The caller's voice became more desperate. "I'm just a poor college student with tuition and rent. I can't live without this money."

"Great," muttered Wanda, subconsciously grinding her teeth. "Can you leave the dogs with neighbors?"

"Nope. That is also forbidden by my contract. The dogs have to stay, and I have to leave tonight. It kills me, though, to abandon these beautiful animals to danger, so I called hoping...now begging, for you to help. I figured if you came and rescued the dogs, it wouldn't violate my contract. There's nothing in there about that. Or maybe you could stay here instead? Just don't tell the owner it was me who called, okay?"

"Hold a second, will you please?" asked Wanda. The caller sputtered an incipient protest that was silenced by the hold function.

"How long now till snow starts falling?" she asked Gavin.

"Another hour, give or take accordin' to the radio."

"Shit! It's doable."

Wanda released the hold.

"What's the address?"

The grateful young woman provided all the details including where she was hiding the house key.

"Maybe you can make it look like you broke in so I don't get in trouble?"

Wanda sighed.

"Just get going and stay safe. We'll take care of this."

"Oh, God. Thank you. I am so grateful. When I'm done with college and have a good job, I'll be sure to make a donation to the shelter."

The line went dead, and Wanda categorized the caller's promise beside all the unfulfilled offers of largess locked in her bitter memory.

"I can go, boss," offered Gavin. "Ol' Lewis'll keep me warm and safe if I don't make it back."

"Lewis? Who's that?" she asked momentarily forgetting Gavin's passion for survival and heartfelt certainty that a global apocalypse was just around the corner.

"My van," he answered incredulously. "I've told you a thousand times how Lewis is stocked with food, water, a propane heater, tools; everythin' you need to stay alive when the shit goes south like tonight."

"Right. Sorry. I'm just a bit flustered, that's all, but why on God's green earth name it Lewis? I'm sure you never told me that."

"Meriwether Lewis...of the Lewis and Clark Expedition. He was the ultimate survivalist. Crossed the whole country and returned safely while livin' entirely off of the land."

"You got issues, Gavin, but once again have earned my eternal gratitude."

"I'll leave now, then. Not much time," he said and began shuffling towards the door.

"Hold it. I'm taking Lewis, not you."

"What?"

"You got a problem with me driving it?"

"No, but I'm the survival expert, and..."

"And I need you here. You volunteered to stay through the storm. If the power goes out and the generator acts up, who's going to improvise a fix? You're the ace mechanic, not me. Operating your van in the snow is something I can handle."

"That makes sense," Gavin drawled. He tossed her the keys. "Guess that's why you're the boss."

They prepped the van by topping off the propane tank and loading extra blankets and flashlights. Three large dog cages consumed most of the storage with the remaining space behind the driver's seat occupied by an old mattress covered with several rolled up sleeping bags. Food and water for Wanda and the dogs went in the passenger's seat.

"See you in less than an hour," Wanda yelled out the window as she drove into the deepening twilight.

Dusk turned to night as she navigated the deserted back country roads. The van's primitive AM-only radio kept her company with tinny music interrupted by advertisements and weather alerts. Snow flakes were already falling when she reached her destination at the end of a long, dirt driveway. The van's headlights shone upon the front porch of a nondescript, weather beaten farmhouse--a cookie cutter copy of thousands just like it scattered across the plains.

Wanda found the key in the promised location, and she let herself in after knocking loudly to confirm no one was home. The dogs were nowhere in sight, but she could smell their presence. An extensive search revealed each of the three huskies in a different hidey-hole, but other than being overly large for their breed and acting a bit squirrelly like they were nervous about something, they obeyed her verbal commands, letting themselves be led by leash and collar one at a time into the van.

By the time Wanda was done, the snow was nearing the tops of her boots, and visibility was less than a dozen yards. Conditions were nearly unnavigable, and she considered moving the dogs back into the house and staying the night, but the lonely old building gave her the creeps. Instead, she put on the tire chains and left hoping to make the highway before becoming bogged down.

The main road was only a few miles back, and the howling wind that began as soon as she placed the vehicle in drive conveniently blew the snow off the path. She made slow, but hopeful progress until she encountered a road spanning drift as tall as the van. A ditch on either side and parallel lines of wide bole trees ensured that driving around was impossible.

Armed with a shovel and wearing her parka and snow pants, she left the safety and warmth of the van's cab to clear a path. Strong and wiry, she was nevertheless petite, and stood barely over five feet. Even a small drift could swallow her whole without warning, so she was cautious. The arduous climb up the soft pile of snow was exhausting and left her nearly buried to her waist.

What she could see from the summit crushed her spirits. The drift extended beyond the reach of the wavering beam of the flashlight she clutched in one trembling woolen mitten. Digging her way forward was no longer an option. She languished a few minutes in icy despair before noticing that the massive pile of snow was growing, threatening to engulf the van.

Turning the vehicle around was a challenge but not as difficult as staying on the narrow road. Conditions continued to deteriorate into an all out blizzard with gusts threatening to tip vehicle over on its side. Sensing the danger, the dogs whined piteously, but Wanda maintained control despite the ferocious wind.

The van was reliable and made progress in the ever deepening snow, but lack of visibility was her ultimate nemesis. The world was a white curtain beyond the metal limits of her creeping chariot.

Brought to a sudden stop by another wall of snow looming out of nowhere, Wanda pondered her options. The farm house wasn't farther than a few hundred more yards, so she backed up hoping a running start would carry her through the newly formed drift. Gunning the engine, the van's back end fish-tailed before the chains found a solid layer, and the ancient machine lurched forward. The heavy vehicle had momentum on its side, but once again, the drift was too thick. Wanda only succeeded in burying the front end up to the roof. Attempting to back up for a second run, the wheels dug pits until the rear axle took the load and all traction was lost.

Pounding her fists on the steering wheel, Wanda wailed her frustration. The three dogs yowled in sympathy. Reminded that she was not alone, she turned on the internal dome light and glanced back at her sulking charges.

"Shit! Bad enough I got myself stranded like this, but I had to go and drag you guys down with me. I am such an idiot. Crap!" she yelled. "We might as well be in Antarctica tonight. No one's gonna find us until this is over." The lack of bars on her phone confirmed what she already knew. "We're on our own."

In spite of her anxiety, her voice was measured and authoritative, helping to calm the dogs, which in turn calmed her and turned her thoughts to the practical task of survival. The blizzard was in full swing. Venturing outside was suicide. Even dogs bred for arctic sledding would find these conditions treacherous. The house might as well have been miles away, and there was no guarantee she would locate it if she tried. Staying put was the safest of her dangerous options.

The shelter of the van, however, was not immune to peril; freezing to death was a real possibility without a source of heat. Wanda silently thanked Gavin again for his crazy survivalist obsession. There wasn't enough gasoline in the tank to run the engine all night, but the propane heater should last if she kept the temperature inside just above freezing.

Once flame had spread comfortingly over the gas coils, she adjusted the valve repeatedly in between other tasks until she found a balance that worked against the sub-zero winds entering the tiniest gaps in the old van's rusty armor. Working by flashlights hung from ceiling hooks, she spread the sleeping bags and extra blankets on top of the old mattress. Her boots she left on the floor in front of the driver's seat along with her parka and ski pants. Retaining her stocking cap, scarf, and gloves, she prepared herself for a bitterly cold night with little sleep. Her breath was already forming puffy clouds in the air.

"I envy you guys your fur," she said to her captives.

The comment was intended to be wry humor, but brought forth a new concern.

"Even so," she mused aloud "You poor things are gonna suffer separated in those cages with only one blanket apiece."

A new, random thought sidetracked her tired brain down the path to epiphany.

"Wait! Sled dogs. Why does that make me think of something?"

A valuable idea hovered just out of reach until she remembered an old phrase once related to her by a husky breeder.

"Three dog night. Yeah. That's what he'd say about a storm like this."

Wanda giggled at the joke embedded in those words.

"In the sub-zero, a smart musher sleeps with his dogs; on the coldest nights, it takes three to make it through," she recited aloud as much for her canine companions as herself.

"I'm darned lucky to have the magic number. Come on, Elizabeth," she said releasing the female first.

Wanda received a grateful tongue across her face and an affectionate brush against her cheek from the old girl's gray muzzle.

"Yeah. Yeah. I guess it's good you like me so much. We're going to be snuggling all night with your brothers."

Wanda checked the names on the boy's tags.

"Sebastian and Ferdinand? Who named you anyway?" she wondered while getting her bed mates settled on the mattress and under the covers with her. "Those are old fashioned people names, not dog names."

At first, the trio was more interested in play and getting better acquainted with her, but when she turned out the light, they curled up with just the tips of their snouts protruding from opposite edges of the bedding. The arrangement was cozy for Wanda, surrounded as she was by warmth giving fur. With the chill completely banished, sleep claimed her.

Normally, Wanda slept without dreams, or at least failed to remember them upon waking, but on this night, a wildfire of erotic fantasies blazed a lurid tableau across the panorama of her subconscious. Past partners, gorgeous media idols, and fictional characters came and went in a parade of romance and ecstasy. In her final moments before waking, the last of her lovers, his face and form obscured in shadow, spooned her with his arms wrapped tightly around her chest.

Wanda's eyes fluttered open, but the dark was as absolute as the silence. The wind had stopped, and the world was smothered in a sound absorbing shroud of snow. Only the slow, steady beat of her heart thrummed in her ears. With sight and hearing of little use, other senses fed her inquisitive mind during those brief, groggy moments of awakening. The air touching her nose was cold but not so much to indicate failure of the heater. Inhaling the brisk draft, the smell of dog subsumed all others, but was not unpleasant considering the warmth she gained from their presence.

Two of her insulating companions had shifted away, still nearby, but no longer in physical contact. The third snuggled against her back pleasantly reminiscent of the end of her recent dream. Pleasant, that was, until she worked out the disturbing elements of congruence. Arms, not legs, encircled her torso. The body pressed against her back was too tall, and fit her profile the way only another human could.

Panicked, she flailed about to throw off the unwanted assailant and fumbled blind until she found her phone. Activating its flashlight function banished the Stygian darkness but did nothing to ally her fear. Revealed within its spotlight, a blended human-canine visage of fur, fangs, and reflective eyes stared back. Terrified by its resemblance to werewolves of horror film fame, Wanda inhaled, preparing to release the requisite scream required of every damsel in similar distress, but she was silenced first.

Lunging forward, the beastly creature smothered her mouth with one huge, paw-like hand, spun her around with the other, and pinned her arms in a crushing embrace. Hunched over her shoulder, his snout hovered level with her nose. Teeth evolved to rend flesh gleamed like polished daggers. Puffs of misty fog from his humid, panting breath warmed her cheek.

Wanda struggled futilely against sinews of steel, but to her infinite surprise the creature spoke rather than snarled--it's calm baritone both rational and soothing.

"Please do not be alarmed, miss. My name is Sebastian. I apologize for assaulting your person, but I deemed the act necessary to foster an atmosphere of calm discourse rather than clamorous hysteria."

One glacier blue eye locked with hers. Freed from the harsh, direct light of her phone, its baleful, reflected menace faded.

"Considering the stories you have no doubt heard, it will take much to allay your fear, but I am prepared to do my utmost to prove I am your ally and not your adversary. You may lock me back in my cage, arm yourself with a firearm, or run away if any of those things help. I will not attempt to stop you or resist."

Of Slavic origin, his accent was reminiscent of Dracula but lacking the creepiness.

"My companions are still sleeping," the beast man added barely above a whisper. "No need to awaken them. Agreed?"

Wanda's eyes strayed to the bedding draped over two human profiles. A tail protruded from either side. Sebastian was not the only lycan present.

"Do you still wish to scream?"

Wanda shook her head. Immediately, he released her and held his arms out and paws in the air as if surrendering. Wanda grimaced from a mild ache in her ribs.

"You are strong enough that I suppose if you wanted to hurt me, you would just do it," she said while turning around to evaluate his appearance through a lens unclouded by terror.

Nothing about her sleeping partner appeared at all as monstrous as her first frantic impression. All the best elements of man and husky were merged into an alluring composite. A mane of silky fur framed his head, encircled his neck, and was topped by a pair of fuzzy ears she found so irresistibly adorable, the temptation to caress them was countered only by the possibility he might take offense.

"I'll be quiet since you outnumber me three to one," she concluded.

"I am grateful for your cooperation, but surely it is I who am at the greater disadvantage."

"How do you figure that?"

"I gave you my name, but I don't know yours or anything about you. Practicing the social niceties is most awkward."

Wanda laughed at the absurdity of a werewolf concerned with etiquette, but the blush beneath his facial fur was proof of his embarrassed sincerity.

"My name is Wanda. Wanda Lynch."

"Wanda," Sebastian said with delight, his tongue protruding briefly from the front of his elongated mouth as if tasting its sound and finding it pleasing.

"Do I address you as Ms. Lynch, Mrs. Lynch, or perhaps some grander title?"

"I have never been married. My professional title is Doctor Lynch, but I prefer just Wanda."

"You practice medicine?"

"I'm a veterinarian, but I also have a PhD in evolutionary genetics."

"Impressive." Sebastian's admiration was sincere. "I suspected as much considering how quickly you recovered your composure under the pressure of an extremely unnerving situation. Clearly, a rational and disciplined mind lurks behind your enchanting eyes. I suspect we can become good friends."

Unaware of the precise origin of the thought, Wanda suspected--perhaps hoped was closer to the truth--deeper emotional meanings lurked behind his simple proposal of friendship. Though their bodies no longer touched, she felt his heat driving away the cabin's chill. Tilting his head slightly and leaning forward, everything about his body language suggested he intended a kiss.

Mesmerized by his charm, she inexplicably returned the intimate gesture. Their lips met briefly, but the spell broke when his cold nose brushed her cheek. Embarrassed by her attraction to something so obviously inhuman, Wanda recoiled, nervously twirling a stray lock of her long, curly hair.

"I don't...I don't know what came over me," she stammered.

Sebastian placed his paws against the sides of his face in shame.

"You are blameless. The bestial corruption of my soul is responsible."

Wanda attempted to assuage his guilt with protestations of shared culpability, but he would brook no argument.

"I am too old fashioned by nature and experience to allow a lady of your status and achievement to be subjected to the lascivious advances of an unchivalrous blackguard like myself. I failed utterly at resisting the allure of your beauty. Can you forgive my lack of will?"

His camouflaged compliments, honest contrition, and vulnerability conquered her heart, weakening whatever bias her eyes instinctively found in his appearance.

"You think I'm beautiful?"

With the exception of her slender figure and abundant, curly brown hair, Wanda had always seen herself as rather plain with a slight asymmetry of facial features preventing the attainment of what society deemed to be beauty.

"Think? Bah! I know it, and I long ago forswore the employment of idle flattery. Beyond mere comeliness, I see in you a remarkable woman with qualities that transcend the ages. Every precious moment that passes in your radiance is another stone enlarging the temple my heart constructs to worship your eminence."

"Wow. I've fallen for way less poetic and romantic lines than that."

"Certainly not."

"I'm afraid it's true."

"A goddess such as yourself should never sell her charms cheap, my lady, even to a smooth tongued rogue like me."

Reaching out, he engulfed her delicate hands with his huge paws.

"Compel me to purchase your affection with treasures only familiarity can bestow. There is still so much each of us must learn about the other. Ask the first question. I beg it."

Beyond his fascinating appearance, his eloquence and earnest attention did much to earn her compliance.

"Okay. So...Um...Are you a werewolf? I mean are such things...creatures...Uh...people?...really real? Sorry if that sounded racist."

"You need not apologize, my dear Wanda. It is I who exist outside the bounds of normal human experience where the onus of explanation rests, but before I begin, I request only that you banish from your mind all of the absurd notions you have been taught about lycanthropes, especially notions of blood lust. Though legend is no doubt distantly linked to encounters with our kind, myth has overtaken reality to distort the truth into stories useful to those who tell them. We are no more or less violent than any other humans."

"You're human?"

"Yes. At least I began life as such. It's rather complicated. Let me start with the basics. There are two extremes in which our condition manifests. One afflicts me and my two sleeping comrades, trapping us in feral form for all but a few days surrounding each full moon. My man-like aspect endures for perhaps a total of three or four weeks each year."

"That sounds awful. How is it being a dog? Are you aware and thoughtful like you are now; I mean, like a man trapped in an animal's body?"

"It's not as bad as it sounds. Imagine awakening from a dream that fades with the glare of dawn's brilliance, leaving behind only fragments of emotion and distorted memory. I have impressions of sights and smells, mostly smells, from the past month, but little else."

Sebastian paused, gathering his thoughts.

"Here is what I can remember. Our protector left, and there was a young woman taking care of us. Not you; this other woman is gone, but the pungent weed that she smoked at least once each day and the chocolate she consumed linger still upon my pallet."

"Sounds like a pot head with the munchies."

"Indeed, but I didn't mean for that to sound like a condemnation of her character. She also radiated compassion and beneficence."

"You can smell that?"

"Yes," he answered as if his ability were of no great merit. Sniffing the air, he added, "You have your own distinct aroma that is quite pleasing. It is one of the foundational pillars supporting my adoration towards you."

Whether he meant her deodorant or something else, the possibility that he could so easily read emotions, especially hers, was disturbing.

"Vanessa," Wanda interjected, hoping to steer the conversation back to the dog sitter. "You're talking about Vanessa. She's a university student."

"I only remember that we were safe in her care, but it is good to know the lady's name even though it is not as delightful to hear as yours."

Each word from him, subtle gesture, and trivial accolade was akin to the most romantic love sonnet. Confounded by the uncontrollable school girl crush setting her breath aflutter, Wanda tried to distract his ardor lest hers blossom in tandem.

"You...You mentioned two end states earlier...of your condition that is," she pressed.

"Ah. Yes," he agreed assessing her agitation with the advantage of enhanced olfactory insight. A canny smile graced his face as he let her set the pace of their progressing relationship. "I did. The second state afflicts our protector."

"Protector?"

"Dr. Illiavich Alexeev takes care of us and searches the world tirelessly for a cure. Appearing as an ordinary man for all but this same part of the lunar cycle, somewhere, right now, he is similarly afflicted."

"Is he the one who is trying to get back from Europe?"

"I believe the last time we spoke he mentioned Switzerland was on his itinerary, so that may be so, but you said trying to return. What is stopping him?"

Wanda pushed a nearby curtain aside exposing a frost covered window and a few remnant, falling flakes of the waning storm."

"The blizzard. All the regional airports are closed."

Sebastian, who had been half concealed by their shared blanket moved for a better view. The cover fell away exposing Wanda to the entirety of his fur covered, but still naked body; his only article of clothing the collar around his neck.

Drawn by curiosity, she scanned his athletic physique, noting his digitigrade legs and brush-like tail. Vulgar interest drew her eyes inevitably towards his distinctly male attributes. Whether his stubby sheath concealed a human or canine penis, she could not discern. Sputtering and struggling for an excuse to look away, she turned to fuss over the propane burner.

"It's frightfully c...c...cold in here," she stuttered but not because of the temperature. "Aren't you...um...freezing? Not wearing any clothes, I mean."

"Oh. I see," he said, divining the source of her discomfort. "Unless you happen to have some spare garments in my size, I'm quite comfortable in this fur coat."

Wanda continued to avoid looking at or thinking about what she had seen. Sebastian's paw cupped her chin and turned her face gently towards his unabashed countenance.

"Why so shy? Nothing you have seen wasn't already on display before I became half man."

Pulling away, Wanda forced her gaze back to the tank of fuel, pointlessly tapping the gauge as if to free the needle from being stuck.

"We'll be more comfortable if I turn this up. Based on what we used so far, there's plenty left to last a day or two, I think."

Surrendering to her implicit demand for decency, Sebastian wrapped the blanket around his waist.

"I am covered."

He squatted bearing an expression of forced patience, his tail swishing slowly, to and fro, like a metronome. Once again, Wanda experienced an otherworldly serenity and attraction towards the curiously alluring beast-man, and failed to fathom her own reluctance towards intimacy. She had jumped in bed with guys before based on far less foreplay. Why not a dog-man?

"Tell me please," he asked, providing her a brief respite from her uncomfortable thoughts, "Where we are and why we are together in this caravan on this frigid night."

Wanda explained her job at the shelter and the frantic call that initiated her botched rescue mission. Sebastian's devotion grew as she revealed her selfless motives.

"Dr. Alexeev's anger at the exposure of our secret will be severe, but I am forever grateful to you. Truly an angel's heart beats within your breast to have risked so much for what you must have believed were three ordinary mutts."

"It was nothing, really. Anyone would have done it."

"Your modesty speaks well of your character, but I must disagree. Most of humanity is either afraid to act on behalf of another, unwilling to do so, or takes perverse pleasure in their suffering. You, Wanda, are a rare breed of philanthropist."

"That's a pretty negative take on people."

"Is it? I have centuries of experience in many different lands suggesting otherwise."

"Centuries? How old are you?"

"I was born in the tenth century."

Wanda's mouth hung open.

"A thousand? How is that possible?"

"It seems that I only age on the days when I am in this near-human state."

"That translates to about..." Wanda performed some quick math in her head. "...About twenty-eight years for you to age one."

"You have a nimble intellect--also the training, and the temperament. How curious," he mused as if appraising a job applicant. "I feel the hand of fate at work in this storm."

"What are you talking about?"

"Isn't it obvious? I'm proposing that you be our replacement protector."

"Me?" Wanda was aghast. "What about Dr. Alexeev?"

"He is getting very old and has already broached the subject of training a successor. I think he will approve of you once he gets to know you as have I. You can't deny the strong attraction connecting us already."

"If you mean earlier...uhm...that kiss...well, that was...I'm not sure what came over me."

"The desire of our hearts overcame both of us. Don't bother denying it. My senses are particularly acute. Your breast pounds faster when I move close, and your scent...well, let's just say that it speaks for itself."

"Scent? I have no idea..."

"Hormones. Pheromones. As a scientist, you know such things exist. Your body is broadcasting them loud and clear to those with a sensitive nose like mine."

"Whatever you are perceiving, it's purely involuntary on my part. Probably caused by some magical side effect of your curse."

"Bah! I may have been born in the Dark Ages, but I know as well as you there's no magic manipulating either of us, just old fashioned mutual attraction."

Further rebuttals were pointless. Sebastian's resolute conviction was unassailable by logic, and Wanda no longer wished to prolong the charade of denial. Arguably the most charming and achingly compatible man she had ever met, only the animal traits obscuring his wonderful inner character gave her pause, leading her to conclude he was exotic, not grotesque.

Sebastian inhaled deeply. A victory smile creased the corners of his snout, making Wanda realize how wet she had become.

"Sebastian..."

Wanda left his name and her palpable want suspended in an atmosphere grown heavy with expectation. Crawling forward, she mounted his lap to sit astride him, the barrier of blanket and clothes insufficient to hide the pressure of his arousal. This time, when their mouths met, neither flinched.

Glorious minutes elapsed before relinquishing their moist embrace. Flushed with the warmth of smoldering desire, Wanda removed her stocking cap, allowing her hair to spill free. Determined to share her lover's nakedness, she tugged her shirt over her head, static electricity enlarging her frizzy mane. Before she could remove her bra, though, Sebastian placed a paw between her breasts.

"As much as I desire to behold your delights, we must consider consequences first."

Wanda's racing libido slammed into the wall of his sudden hesitance. Assuming old-fashioned notions of chivalry rendered him incapable of accommodating an aggressive woman, she responded with feminist indignation.

"I'm not some shy maiden, Sebastian. If you're worried about my virginity, that was lost long ago..."

"Much more than maidenhood is at stake," he interrupted nonplussed by her protestations of experience. "There is no going further unless you are absolutely committed to becoming a protector."

Caught off guard by his odd insistence on this seemingly irrelevant point, Wanda took a moment to reconsider his offer.

"Well...I think I would like that. I mean, I've been protecting animals my whole life."

"We are not animals."

"I'm sorry, that was..."

Sebastian took her hands in his paws again.

"Give me a minute to explain, and then decide. You need educating. I am as much a man, one of God's children, as any of the billions of naked apes walking this earth today. Dr. Alexeev has attended to our education over the centuries teaching us writing, history, art, philosophy, geography, science, and mathematics."

Sebastian paused, thoughtful, then quoted Pythagoras.

"The square of the hypotenuse of a right triangle is equal to the sum of the squares of the remaining two sides."

"Uh...yeah. That's right," agreed Wanda unsurprising by his display of intelligence.

"And force equals mass times acceleration. See, I can learn abstract concepts. I am not ignorant of this modern world either. I know that we are in the United States of America, that men have walked on the moon, and that scientists are unraveling the mysteries of our genome. That is why my protector is away so often."

"He is searching for a cure..." Wanda paused, an idea formed unbidden in her mind. "Has he tested your DNA?"

"Beauty and intelligence make an irresistible combination. Yes. He has, and my sleepy companions and I are as human as you are, or at least near enough to be considered so by any rational definition."

"But your fur, the monthly metamorphosis. Humans can't do that."

"There are people who grow hair over their faces and much of their bodies. The condition is called hypertrichosis. They are still human are they not?"

"Yes."

"What about people born with tails?" he persisted.

"Sure, but you are forgetting one thing."

"What is that?"

"Those people are human because they can interbreed with other humans."

"And that brings me to end of my lesson. Though pregnancies are rare, you and I are genetically compatible enough to theoretically produce offspring, but there's more at stake here than that. Making love is guaranteed to turn you into a protector including the monthly change suffered by Dr. Alexeev."

"Oh. That is a potential showstopper. Are you certain?"

"Yes. I am afraid it is so."

"Maybe we should skip that part then, and I'll just be an ordinary human protector."

"The lycan community would never accept you as you are. Distrust of the non-infected runs deep among our kind. Our secret has been lost often enough to our detriment that few exceptions are made when it is compromised. They will take it upon themselves to silence you permanently. Constrained to be a dog most of the time, I cannot protect you from their wrath. Your only hope is to become a protector. It's that or become the hunted."

"I'm not afraid. I can just wait until you change back, then report all this to the authorities and put myself under their protection."

"That path may or may not bear the fruit you desire. Some protectors hold positions of power in your government. Containing you and your story would become their highest priority. But why risk that? If you become one of us, they will be compelled to accept you, especially when they learn of your training and skills."

Wanda's defiant posture spoke volumes about her willingness to fight, giving Sebastian one more reason to love her and avoid words and actions that pushed her farther away.

"But my intention is not to frighten or coerce you into acceptance. Rather, I prefer to win you over with an emphasis on the positives."

"What benefits does lycanthropy offer except spending a lifetime with you?"

An odd rumbling purr-like growl accompanied Sebastian's rapturous smile, and his tail danced in tune with the song in his heart.

"If you find that enough, then I am in Heaven."

"Down, boy," she ordered as he moved to embrace her with his long, sinewy arms. "Let's hear what else you got first."

His pouting, puppy dog eyes nearly broke her resolve.

"Commendably practical," he acquiesced, seeing her will was adamant. "Here are the facts. First, your lifespan will be extended, not as long as mine, but several times that of a normal human. Second, our wealth is great, having been accumulated throughout the centuries. You will want for nothing and have all the resources necessary to pursue a cure. Third, this is an opportunity to rekindle your scientific passion and serve the less fortunate at the same time."

Wanda's critical expression was less buoyant than Sebastian might have hoped.

"Do you need more?" he probed.

"No," she answered. "It's just..."

"Just what?"

"I sense you're hiding something."

"Such as...?"

"You tell me."

"Ah. Humans are not as nose blind as most are led to believe, and I suppose it is wrong to hold anything back even if I risk losing you."

"You won't lose me, Sebastian. I'm already sold on this. I just want to go in with my eyes open."

Her admission of acceptance should have animated Sebastian's tail with joy, but his posture bespoke a pensive turn of mood.

"There is a dark side to our nature. It has to do with the spread of our condition. The truth is that we are not always mentally stable. Insanity rarely, but sometimes, accompanies the monthly transition whether protector or not. In that state, we do attack people, and if we bite them, they become non-protectors. That is how Ferdinand, Elizabeth, and I became what we are, bitten by the same deranged lycan in the span of a few months of terror in our small chiefdom in a land once called Pannonia."

"I'm sorry. Has this madness happened to you?"

"No. Never, nor my co-bitten with us here tonight."

"Should I be worried about millions of werewolves walking among us unseen?"

"Not at all. Such attacks are rare and often fatal, so few ever become infected. Though our lifespans are extended, there are no more than a few thousand surviving today. Some live as I do with a protector, but most go it alone in the wild. There are only a score or so of protectors, you see, and the wild side of our affliction can compel one to want to live as nature intended."

"Oh. Do they run in wolf packs?"

"Or lion prides, or alone as bears or large cats...our form vary."

"Wouldn't it be better for both of us if I just let you bite me? Then we could always be together and alike."

"I am touched that you would want that, but it doesn't work that way. Only the madness carries with it that ability. As long as I am sane, my bite is just a bite...but if rough is how you like it, I can oblige."

"You have a naughty habit of steering the conversation back to sex. Are you so eager?"

"It is the choice before us...and yes. I am. You just need to say aloud and unequivocally that you want this, and I will prove my love is worthy of the sacrifice."

No decision had ever loomed so monumental, so irrevocable, and so frightening. How ironic that an elusive mental state such as love should be what tipped the scales between two distinct futures--one promising adventure, intense romance, and mystery; the other safety, predictability, and loneliness. Logical dictates proved inadequate to steer Wanda's heart away from its fondest desire.

"I want this," she proclaimed.

"I am elated, my dear lady. How would you have me proceed? Seduction or feral frenzy?"

Both options appealed, but Wanda opted for the former simply to experience more of his charming persona before delving into the physical.

"Seduce me."

"As you wish."

Sebastian pulled her tight against his chest, the soft fur of his cheek pressed against hers. Clearing his throat, he drew forth from his memory a poem learned centuries previously as recited by the original author.

"Let me not to the marriage of true minds

Admit impediments. Love is not love

Which alters when it alteration finds,

Or bends with the remover to remove.

O no! it is an ever-fixed mark

That looks on tempests and is never shaken;

It is the star to every wand'ring bark,

Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.

Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks

Within his bending sickle's compass come;

Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,

But bears it out even to the edge of doom.

If this be error and upon me prov'd,

I never writ, nor no man ever lov'd."

"That's beautiful...and appropriate. Did you write it?"

"Even if it diminishes me in thine eyes, I must vouchsafe the truth thus ensuring our love begins not upon a falsehood. That was William Shakespeare's Sonnet One Hundred Sixteen. Are you aware of his works?"

"Only the popular stuff, I'm afraid, but it's very romantic to hear you say it; even your confession of plagiarism is touching. Do you believe our love can survive the alterations it will find?"

"I am certain of it. Hound, half-wolf, or human, we shall bear it out even to the edge of doom."

Their lips met again, and Wanda swooned into his embrace, her fingers daring to caress his fuzzy ears and the glorious fur covering his head, cheeks, and neck. Sebastian's paws glided over the smooth, alabaster contours of her back while whispering snippets of poetry into her ear.

Impediments to their complete physical union--Sebastian's improvised kilt and the remainder of Wanda's clothes--were cast into a pile. Though the van's heater worked overtime to banish the cold, goose-flesh covered Wanda's exposed skin, encouraging her to snuggle deeper into the embrace of her giant, living plush toy.

A blissful interlude of tactile explorations and murmured declarations of affection followed, inflaming desire and provoking increasingly earnest contact. Breath came shallow and more frequent. Hearts beat faster and the frigid air rendered irrelevant to bodies set on fire.

Wrestling and rolling upon the old mattress, Wanda became turned around to face the turgid expression of her lover's arousal. Between her thighs, his hot breath tickled her sex. Poised thus, they pleasured each other.

Unique contours and taste filled Wanda's mouth. Below, Sebastian plumbed depths unimaginable with a human tongue. The novelty of his alien physique brought an exciting freshness to an old game, transporting Wanda back in memory to her first sexual explorations and the forgotten intensity of over stimulated youth. She quivered and shuddered with each delightful orgasm until Sebastian spent himself in a messy explosion. Savoring his novel gift and a reprieve from their energetic coupling, she snuggled cheek to cheek against the downy warmth of her bestial lover.

"That was definitely not your first time," observed Wanda.

"Nor yours," said Sebastian using his nimble tongue to clean her face. "Not that I'm complaining. Experience makes for a better experience. Don't you agree?"

"Mmm," Wanda purred. "It does indeed."

She was content--the storm's bleak and frozen aftermath forgotten. Buried alive in Gavin's metal coffin was less claustrophobic with the perfect company. Still, an unexplained restlessness possessed her, preventing the sleep her tired body needed.

"Do I look different now?"

"Huh?" wondered Sebastian, who had been occupying himself by skimming through one of the van's many issues of survivalist magazines.

"Am I a protector?"

"Oh. Well, you look the same to me, but that was just foreplay after all. Not proper love making. We need to go all the way, I suspect."

"Are you serious or just finagling for round two?"

"Does it matter?"

Wanda chuckled.

"No. I suppose not."

"Good, because I am guilty on both counts." He tossed the magazine aside. "To the best of my knowledge, oral sex is not enough--though definitely not a poor use of time and energy. I wouldn't turn down a chance to do that again with you."

"Okay," said Wanda.

Straddling his waist, she slid up his chest until her inner thighs caressed the sides of his snout.

"Put your money where your mouth is...No. That's not right. Put your tongue where...Oh, screw it. You get what I mean."

"I do, and if that is your command, then I am your eager slave."

Sebastian's oral dexterity, a sheer delight on the first pass, was upon reintroduction fraught with boundless ecstasy. Only when Wanda could bear no more did she scooch away from his mouth until she was delightfully impaled upon his waiting erection.

In the driver's seat, Wanda took a leisurely ride of gentle pleasure, rocking back and forth to her own internal rhythm. Her mate seemed content to endure for as long as she--perhaps longer.

"Are you ever going to cum again?" she wondered aloud.

"Sure, but only if you take it all," he answered.

Wanda glanced at his swollen knot with trepidation.

"That? Are you joking?"

"Not as impossible as it seems," he laughed while removing the collar from around his neck. "Bite down on this," he advised after placing it in her perplexed mouth and gripping her narrow waist.

Discerning his intent, she issued a muffled protest, but kept her wits, chomping down on the stiff leather before he rudely pulled their hips together. An instant of painful stretching passed, supplanted by the nudge of a battering ram against her innermost defense and a rush of fluid threatening to swell her cramped insides like a balloon. Saliva oozed from the corners of her clenched jaw, but not a drop of his seed escaped her stoppered gates.

"You bastard," she swore around a mouthful of collar, only letting it fall once the giddy spasms in her crotch abated. "I wasn't ready."

"No one ever is. That's the secret, you see?"

Sebastian's smile and large, pale eyes beaming up at her with loving adoration enchanted her heart once again.

"Maybe. I guess it is kind of a kinky thrill," she confessed. "I've never been tied before."

"Technically, you don't have the musculature to automatically lock me inside. If I pull hard enough..."

Her vaginal muscles clamped down before the swollen organ moved a millimeter.

"No! Don't. I like it. Most men pull out too fast. This is the best part--the aftermath; so full and warm."

"As you wish, my lady. Glad is my heart at the prospect of reclining here with you for all eternity."

"Oh, Sebastian, you say the most romantic things..."

"Yeah," interrupted a female voice, her Slavic accent more pronounced than Sebastian's. "He employs his long, agile tongue marvelously well on the ladies...and he's charming when he speaks to them, too."

Elizabeth-turned-werewolf cackled at her own gaff like a madwoman. Ferdinand was also awake, chuckling in concert with his crazed companion.

Mortified to discover two sets of reflective eyes leering at her predicament, Wanda tried crawling away beneath the covers, but her lover's swollen bulb refused to abandon its snug pocket. In desperation, she burrowed deeper into Sebastian's fur and dragged his protective arms over her back.

That Ferdinand enjoyed something more than Elizabeth's wit and Wanda's discomfiture was evidenced by his glistening shaft protruding from the wolf-woman's padded fist; her steady stroking engorging the rubbery organ with blood. As it swelled impossibly large, Wanda scanned Ferdinand's body for a sense of scale. His shoulders--nearly a meter across--sprouted arms like gargantuan trunks of sinewy steel, and his muscular torso would be the envy of the NFL if he opted to play linebacker.

Smaller and built more like a tight end with furry breasts, Elizabeth was still formidable, equally capable of tearing Wanda apart, or any ordinary human for that matter. As with Sebastian, both of the newly aroused lycans resembled humanoid huskies in fur density and coloration.

"The back door's wide open," observed Ferdinand. He licked his lips at the soft, white curves of Wanda's buttocks. "Mind if I slide in and join you, Seb?"

"Oh, God," Wanda groaned.

Her whole body flushed red. Summoning all her strength and what little leverage she could muster, she succeeded in rolling on her side dragging Sebastian along by his knot. Ferdinand misinterpreted the interposition of Sebastian's body as a refusal to share.

"Ah. No fair, Seb. You're a greedy pig."

"Aye," agreed Elizabeth, "But little miss petite likely ain't got the belly for_two_ fat sausages."

Elizabeth howled at her triumph of puerile wit inducing Ferdinand to join another fit of hysterics. Wanda reburied her face in Sebastian's chest.

"I apologize for their crude behavior," Sebastian whispered to his embarrassed mate, then with a tug and a grunt, pulled his knot and the rest of his glistening cock clear.

The slippery, wet popping noise and Wanda's accompanying squeal of surprise served to intensify the laughter from her raucous audience. Ignoring their ribaldry, Sebastian carefully wrapped Wanda in a sleeping bag and sat cross legged with her in his lap. She continued to blush scarlet but felt better after being fully covered.

"Mind your manners, you two," Sebastian chided. "That is not how we speak to a guest, especially our future protector."

All gaiety ended with his extraordinary pronouncement. Ferdinand growled, his fur bristled, and the black flesh of his lips curled back exposing the entirety of his fangs and a mouth full of pointed teeth. He was angry enough to slap away Elizabeth's mischievous paw.

"What the hell, Seb? That's not for you to decide."

"Well, I did, and since the effect is irreversible, my decision stands."

"Not if she doesn't make it through the night. How about we all share in the fun, and then get rid of her?"

"Yeah," added Elizabeth, licking her lips. "Fun."

Wanda squirmed in alarm. The pair advanced, more than a match for Sebastian. Wanda couldn't imagine how one werewolf could stand against two, but Sebastian neither flinched nor drew back a centimeter.

"Would you harm the person most likely to free us from this curse?" he asked as if reprimanding a pair of underlings.

Ferdinand paused but did not back down.

"Her? What makes you think she can do what Alexeev hasn't?"

"She has advanced training in the most promising new fields of research. Coupled with an abundance of benevolence and personal drive, she has everything we need. Illiavich, bless his heart, is stuck in the past wandering alchemical avenues making no significant progress in decades. He needs fresh assistance."

"So you say," countered Ferdinand. "But how do I know you don't just want her for your personal fuck toy?"

The two males glared at each other, caught in a stalemate of opposing wills.

"Let Elizabeth decide," Sebastian pronounced, breaking the tension. "The Witch of Szabolcs still claims to have mystical, intuitive powers."

Sebastian beckoned the female lycan forward while stripping away the top half of Wanda's protective covering. Ferdinand observed with superstitious awe as Elizabeth's manic demeanor transformed to one of spiritual intensity. Creeping closer, she sniffed Wanda's air.

"Query the saints and spirits, and render your verdict, old woman," commanded Sebastian.

With her paws hovering just beyond the surface of Wanda's naked skin, the dog-woman's eyes rolled back exposing their whites. Chanting snatches of pidgin Latin, a full minute of mystical mumbling--accompanied by swaying of her torso--elapsed before the seer returned her attention to the mortal world.

Through it all, Wanda raged inside, arms slung across her bare breasts in consternation. The sum total of all previous humiliations was nothing compared to enduring a mumbo jumbo based determination of her fate. Though she strongly desired to shout her odium aloud, the ritual's evident importance to the largest and most frightening of the trio curbed her rash attack. Ferdinand sat rapt with such interest and reverence, Wanda dared not break the spell.

At the ceremony's end, Elizabeth said nothing to break the reverential silence. The sign of the cross and imperceptibly nodding her head comprised her cryptic verdict.

"If you aren't convinced by that," Sebastian lectured Ferdinand, "Remember that these are enlightened times. Two, three hundred years ago there might have been less fuss over a body found in the melting snow, but in this time and place an organized manhunt will ensue. We can't afford to have the authorities snooping around."

"Those days are indeed gone," grumbled Ferdinand expressing nostalgia for a simpler, more violent age rather than recanting his murderous proposition.

"And we have learned to be better than that," pressed Sebastian. "Haven't we?"

Ferdinand's grumble was non-committal, but his fur lay flat, and he hid his fangs again.

"I said, haven't we?" Sebastian repeated.

"Are you going to tell Dr. Alexeev?" Ferdinand asked, fear of punishment lurking behind the pugnacious edges of his voice.

"That depends upon how you behave in the next five minutes. Apologies are in order, and being magnanimous in victory, I shall start. Wanda please forgive our sometimes crude outlook on life. We were all born in dark times in a cruel land torn by interminable war and invasion. Ferdinand and Elizabeth are products of their environment, but they can behave. What have you to say for yourselves. Both of you?"

Truly contrite, Ferdinand crawled forward on his belly, a high pitched whine whistling out his nose. He lay his chin upon Wanda's thigh.

"I apologize, my lady. I'm just a simple peasant blacksmith bred to hammer iron. My strength is in my arms and back, not up here." He pointed at his forehead. "In matters of the intellect, I yield to Sebastian, and since Lizzy vouches for the powers beyond this world, I believe you have been rightfully chosen. Am I forgiven?"

Relieved, Wanda couldn't resist patting his adorable, fluffy head and scratching behind his ears.

"Yes. You certainly seem sincere."

Taking the well-meant but patronizing gesture in stride, the giant's tail wagged with gratitude.

"I swear that I am and can prove it. Let me make love to you."

"What?" Wanda was unprepared for another romp in the hay with a werewolf. "I don't think that's necessary..."

"Don't be hasty, my lady. You may find me abler than Sebastian. Ask Elizabeth. She never complains. Do you, old girl?"

"Hee! Hee! Hee!" Elizabeth chortled with absurd glee. "What Ferdy lacks in charm he makes up with enthusiasm. It's always a bit of rough and tumble in bed with him, but there's no malice in it..." Altering her demeanor with lunatic abruptness, she added, "...And neither did I mean any harm. If I also gave offense, I seek your absolution."

"You have it," Wanda granted hoping Elizabeth's deranged outburst had derailed Ferdinand's offer.

"Excellent!" proclaimed Sebastian. "All is resolved. The rest of the night is ours to grow closer and better acquainted as friends and family."

Wanda interpreted that to mean a few hours of light conversation regarding each other's origins and history, a line of reasoning that shared no congruence with that of her newest suitor.

"You have such soft skin," Ferdinand persisted by nuzzling her belly button with the damp tip of his nose.

Wanda giggled involuntarily at the touch, but then nearly jumped out of her skin when his muzzle burrowed downward to probe between her thighs.

"Ah!" he exclaimed. "That's a tasty little twat. Reeks of Seb, but I can fix that."

"No!...No...I...don't think that's...that's necessary," Wanda stuttered nervously, trying without effect to push away the probing snout. "Sebastian, explain that you and I are a thing."

"A thing?...Oh, you mean lovers! Yes. Indeed we are, but I don't own you. I certainly don't expect exclusive access to your charms. It is share and share alike with us and has been for a millennia."

"Sure," proffered Ferdinand. "Dr. Alexeev loved a good foursome in his younger days. The experience builds pack cohesion or some other such nonsense he always said. I'm sure he's right, but I just enjoy a good time."

"Yeah. Good time," added Elizabeth. "Don't know what you're missing until you have three gents at once. I have often enough."

The witch's manic laugh was contagious, inducting even Sebastian into the wicked chorus. Wanda's head spun and not just from the disorienting tableau of a trio of lusty werewolves. Perhaps it was a spell, magic in the air, or more rationally, the heady perfume of pheromones to which Sebastian had earlier alluded. Whatever the cause, the very foundations of Wanda's existence shifted.

Perception, conscious thought, the essence of self, and most of all her physical form acquired a disorienting fluidity. Sharpened vision witnessed expanding sinew, fur spreading over skin, nails thickening until claw-like, limbs reshaping, and her nose--normally unseen without a mirror--stretched into view.

Colors became muted, but a richness of smell replaced life's drab canvas with unprecedented depth and vividness. The moods and emotions of her companions flooded into her mind like tangible objects. Love, lust, and hope dominated. A desire to share the feelings suffused her, accompanied by spreading warmth and feral passion.

Possessed by feverish urgency, Wanda sprang free of Sebastian's embrace to collide with the burly Ferdinand, knocking the surprised blacksmith prone. Saliva dripped from her panting tongue to puddle upon his chest fur, the sweaty folds of her crotch embracing his throbbing cock.

"You want me, big guy?"

Ferdinand nodded.

"Then you're getting me--on my terms."

Wanda shuffled her hips until his rubbery tip found purchase. Chewing upon his shoulder--whimpering her pleasure throughout--she slowly impaled herself until persistent pressure swallowed the entire shaft.

"Oh ho!" Ferdinand exclaimed with glee. "A first time frenzy. It's my lucky day."

"Shut your stupid mouth, and lie still," Wanda ordered as she held his snout closed and ground her pubis against his.

"Yeff, mm'mm," he mumbled, his satisfied grin visible beneath her paws.

Sebastian gazed upon the pair with bemused curiosity.

"It has been so long," he remarked to Elizabeth. "I forgot how intense the heat of an initial transformation can be. I hope after it's over, she won't be mad at me for omitting to mention this side effect."

"Her loss if she does," Elizabeth shrugged. "Better have another poke at her before then just in case. If you don't mind me saying, you're flagging a bit where it counts. Let me reinvigorate you."

Not waiting for approval, the old witch went down upon his flaccid prick, her tongue a constrictor teasing and squeezing its prey. Outperforming the best in the business by virtue of centuries of practice, she brought Sebastian rapidly to the brink of orgasm, releasing his twitching tip to ooze a steady stream.

"Much better," she pronounced admiring her handiwork. "Hey, Ferdy. Make the new bitch ready will you?"

Obeying Elizabeth's request, the blacksmith's massive paws gripped Wanda's furry shanks, spreading her taut buttocks wide. Wanda's faint human conscience--banished to the far reaches of her subconscious--sounded a futile alarm unheeded by her tail. The independent agent of depravity curled against her arched back of its own accord, exposing the puckered portal once hidden beneath.

With a lubricating coating of saliva and pre, Sebastian probed Wanda's backdoor, slinking his way slowly along her forbidden passage. Throughout the uncomfortable invasion, Wanda bit ever harder into Ferdinand's pelt until the coppery taste of blood oozed over her gums, and its odoriferous tang filled the surrounding air. If the ex-blacksmith registered the pain, he gave no sign, her heat having possessed him as greedily and recklessly as her.

Double penetration, canine anatomy, and raging feral desire--all new experiences to Wanda, found a welcome home in her hybrid mind. Human societal norms, moral misgivings, and personal shame were subsumed. So lost was she in the euphoric, duplicate rhythm of her suitors, she barely registered Elizabeth squatting between her shoulder blades to spread a banquet before Sebastian's panting snout.

"Hee! Hee! Looks like I've claimed the best part," exclaimed Elizabeth. "Punish me for my sins, good sirrah. Delivereth thine tongue lashing upon this naughty wench."

Theensuingorgy romped and cavorted through the late hours of thelong night. Always at its center, but never with the same pairing or position, Wanda discovered through touch, taste, and smell the concord of their union. Each member of her pack received her attention in equal measure untilthe quartet finished as they had begun, climaxing in an exhausted pile of warm bodies. Though near the bottom of their lycan sandwich, no minor discomfort brought on by the crush from above, or the pair of swollen knots wedged within, could break Wanda's torpid reverie. Ferdinand formed the foundation, and if he could bear the heavy burden of their combined weight with somnolent equanimity, then so could she.

The steady rise and fall of his massive chest lulled her to sleep.

Dawn waxed bright and cloudless, thrusting lances of laser brilliance through the van's grime-streaked rear windows. Rubbing crust from the droopy corners of her eyes, memory and direct observation conflicted in Wanda's drowsy brain. No fur covered her hands; nor were they in any way paw-like. Her arms were similarly bare as was all of her naked body. Other than lying nude within a triangle formed by three shaggy dogs, everything was as it should be.

Bizarre memories of transformation and talking dog-people poured into her woozy consciousness like a splash of ice cold water in the face of a hangover. Certainly, none of it had been real. Dreams. They were dreams and nothing more, but the viscous, white goo glazing her thighs and buttocks was undeniable proof she had shared herself with someone. That the only someones present were canine, triggered feelings of shame and regret.

Panic constricted her chest and stomach for the first time in years. Anxiety attacks of this magnitude had vanished after graduate school, and Wanda had assumed they were gone forever. Unsure whether to hyperventilate or vomit, she clenched her eyes shut and practiced a series of deep breathing exercises taught to her years ago by a sympathetic counselor. Unpleasant as this unexpected resurgence was, at least the symptoms were familiar enough to manage, subsiding gradually as she recalled the night's events.

Had she really let herself be fucked silly by three dogs, or had the far more appealing, but unlikely spree with werewolves been real? Dignity clamored for the latter.

Sebastian was the key to answering the riddle. He was her vanity's lifeline. Only the most charming and erudite of the trio could provide a credible explanation, but he was a dog again, or maybe he had always been a dog. Wanda shook him awake in desperation to know which.

"Sebastian," she begged. "Speak to me. Let me hear the voice of the man I love."

Of course, he did no such thing. Dogs lack the vocal chords to mimic human speech even if they possessed the cognition to try. Instead, he yawned, licked her cheek, draped his neck over her shoulder expressing affection, and burbled sympathetically in the curious imitation of language for which huskies were notorious.

Though heartfelt and sincere, no single component of his display was beyond the capacity of an ordinary dog. Gripping the fur of his cheeks in her small fists and staring deep into his eyes, Wanda sought for the man imprisoned within.

"Remember, Sebastian! You must remember who you are. Please."

The wide, dark pools reflecting her face narrowed slightly. Was it understanding? Wanda's doubts persisted until Sebastian shook his head and broke free. Sniffing around, he located her phone and nudged it towards her, wagging his tail furiously as he did. She picked it up uncertain what to expect.

The GIF playing on her lock screen delivered the lurid answer. A selfie taken from over Sebastian's shoulder captured four lycans--herself prominently in the middle being double timed by the males while burying her snout between Elizabeth's thighs. Wanda was shocked to see herself thus, but the returning memories brought with them a fond euphoria.

"I guess that's proof enough," she admitted to her thousand year old companion. "But I'm going to delete this just in case."

Sebastian _spoke_again and placed his forepaw on her phone as if imploring her to search for something more. Unsure of his intent, Wanda did her best to follow his wishes and noticed the camera app was still open. A new video waited at the top of the queue.

"My dearest, Wanda," crooned the seductive baritone of her half-human lover. She was visible in the short movie, still covered in fur, asleep in his arms. "Here is my apology in advance for reverting to a base animal. Daylight forces the inconvenient transformation, but take heart in this: winter nights are long, and we are gifted four each month. Until sunset reunites us as equals, know that I adore you more than any woman I have ever met or shall ever know. If this be error and upon me prov'd, I never writ, nor no man ever lov'd."

In the video's final seconds, werewolf Sebastian laid his chin atop her head emitting a soft, pining yowl. His canine counterpart gazing over her shoulder mimicked the gesture, echoing the mournful wail. Dropping the phone, Wanda dragged his fluffy bulk into a fierce embrace.

"Well, Sebastian," she purred. "I'm as eager as you for my next three dog night."

[End of Story.]