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Knothole High - Theopsis

by argouru (with permittion from and thanks to Nex_Canis)

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Lesson One: Understand the Curriculum

Mr. Spanner, a brown-furred labrador, stood over the human with a frown on his long face. "You're slipping, Mr. Wilson," he said with heavy disappointment in his voice as he handed the lad back his test. The human stared at it dully, the big red 'F' blaring at him from the top of the page. He know he should care, but what's the point? It's not like this test really mattered. It's not like anything mattered at all. John Wilson stuffed the page into his backpack as the bell rang, then rose with a groan... Because the next class was his least favorite by far... P.E.

He hurried to his locker and threw his stuff in, then made a beeline for the locker room to change. He hated it in there because the place always stank of wet dog. *I guess that's what I get for ending up in a school where so many of the students are various forms of canines. Humans like me are in the minority here.* He changed quickly, surrounded by the crowd of other first year students who stared at his scrawny , underdeveloped body with looks of concern. The truth was, 'scrawny' was a very generous understatement. To be honest, he looked emmaciated due to lack of food. Many of his fellow students whondered why, since part of the standard education included some of the larges selection of protein-rich food available. As they thought on that, however, no one could ever remember seeing the lad in the cafeteria during lunch period, even to pick up some food before leaving. John shrugged his way into his gym shirt and shorts, then made his way out to the track. Coach Steele lined them up, staring intently at each of the students with his sharp lupine gaze, then blew his whistle.

The class took off running, but John quickly fell behind, not really trying. *What's so wonderful about running around in circles, anyways? Must be a canine thing.* In what seemed like no time at all, Lance Penders lapped him, his orange-reddish, white and black fox fur shooting past the human like a streak of flame, but John didn't have it in him to care. In what seemed like no time at all, everyone had lapped him.

"Pick up the pace, Wilson!" Coach Steele snapped, his voice full of disapproval. John hazzarded a glance his way and saw the disappointment written all over his wolven face as he shook his head sadly. John couldn't bring himself to care, however, and finished the period half-heartedly before hitting the showers with the rest of the team.

On the way home, he stopped by the cemetary and stood before the grave, staring at it dully. The name Helen Wilson stared back up at him, reminding him of what he had done. He started to cry and stopped himself. Crying wasn't manly and never solved anything. He walked away some time later with a dull ache in his heart.

John arrived home and closed the door quietly behind him. "Are you home?" a male voice asked him listlessly as a shadow fell over the lad. "You missed dinner. I put yours in the fridge," his dad said. "Eat, then do your homework and get ready for bed," he instructed in a dull voice that lacked any emotion.

"Yes Sir," John answered just as dully, then headed to his room to drop off his backpack before heading back to the kitchen. His dad never appeared to him again that night, and he accepted that without complaint. He picked at his food listlessly and ate only a small portion of it, not feeling very hungry. John never had much of an appetite and had been that way since the day his mother had died. That was the day he and his father had begun to drift apart as a family. *For all that we're father and son, we might as well be strangers. It's alright though...* he thought...

Because he knew he deserved to be treated like that...

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*****

Lesson Two: If You're Having Difficulties, Seek Advice...

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Terry Wilson, John's father, answered the knock at the door to see a large, gray wolf in a t-shirt and shorts standing there to greet him. "Mr. Wilson?" the wolf asked, "I'm Coach Steele from your son's school. I need to talk to you about your boy. May I come in?"

"Umm... Sure," he said, wondering if John had gotten himself into trouble about something. If the gym coach was making a house call, it couldn't be anything good. The man led him into the living room and had him take a seat, nearly gagging as the wolf brushed past him. *I've been around canines before, but this guy's so ripe he could easily be used for bio-warfare!* The human sat on the couch next to Coach Steele, as it was the only place to sit in the room since they had sold off most of the furniture, neither of them wanting to keep the tacky pieces his wife had picked out after she was dead. He never liked recliners and John never joined him to watch tv anymore, so Terry always had the couch to himself. "What's wrong? Has John been disruptive?" he asked.

"No..." Steele said slowly. "Mr. Wilson has been a very quiet student... Seems to go out of his way to avoid trouble, in fact. What bothers me is that he seems to lack any drive. He puts virtually no effort into his classes and to be blunt, Mr. Wilson, he's about to be flucked right out of school."

He handed the human a folder, who opened it to see a list of John's grades. All Ds and Fs, especially gym. He sighed.

"Mr. Wilson..." the wolf began, but Terry stopped him.

"You can call me Terry."

"Really?" the canine said, tilting his head slightly as he looked at the man. "I'd have pictured you as a Thaddeus."

"Thaddeus?" Terry exclaimed with a weak laugh. "No, no. I'm definately a Terry."

Coach Steele frowned slightly. "Well, I'll call you Thad for short," he said, ignoring the man's protests. "Sounds more manly."

Terry blinked at that, not knowing what to say. *Did... Did he just try to flirt with me?*

Coach Steele looked up to a framed photo on the mantle. "Is that your wife?"

"Yeah," Terry said sadly, staring up at it.

"I'm sorry for your loss," the wolf said kindly. "It must have been really hard on you and your son."

"Things haven't been the same since that day. Sometimes I can't help but to wonder if John blames me for her death."

"Maybe he blames himself," Steele said, making the human think.

*Does he?* Terry wondered.

"To be honest, Thad," Steele said, changing gears, "Your son is one more bad grade from being booted out. But, there is a way he can stay in school. If he gets involved in one of the extra carricular sports teams, he can make up for his bad grades elsewhere. Does your son have any interest in sports?"

Terry shook his head, half in trying to remember what, if any, sports John had ever shown any interest in, and half to try to clear his head. The room was smimming in musky wolf-scent and it was starting to make his head feel fuzzy. *Hmmm... He is nice and fuzzy... I wonder what his fur feels like...? Wait! What am I doing?!?*

"He... uhh.." Terry said, trying to concentrate shifting nervously on the couch. "John used to run some. He won a first place ribbon on the fifty yard dash once."

"That's perfect," Coach Steele said with a smile on his long muzzle, proping his elbow up on the back of the couch and sending another wave of wolf-musk the human's way as his armpit became expossed. Terry's brain reeled slightly. "We still have an opening on the track team and if John takes the spot, that'll kill two birds with one stone," the wolf finished, seeming not to notice the human's discomfort.

"But John..." Terry said, finding it hard to focus, "doesn't have any real endurance from what I've ever seen."

"Don't worry," Coach Steele said with a smile, "We have a very rigorous training regimine that'll build up his strength and endurance in no time at all. Before long, he'll be a big burly guy just like you."

*Like... Me...? What's going on?* Terry wondered to himself, his head swimming. It was true that he had done his best to keep himself in shape after his honorable discharge from the military once his service had come to an end, but still... He got to his feet unsteadily. "I think I need some fresh air," He said weakly, then his legs go out from under him. Steele was there in an instant to catch him, his furry muscles pressed up against the human's body.

"Don't worry," he said in a husky voice. "I got you." then he leaned down and pressed his muzzle to the man's lips...

Terry couldn't really remember anything more after that...

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*****

Lesson Three: If You See a Fellow Student in Need, Offer To Help Them...

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Lance looked around the caffeteria uncertainly, trying to spot his prey. Henry Dawners came up to him and grabbed his butt playfully, giving the firm buttocks a squeeze. "Hey there Lance, how's it shaking?"

"Hmm," Lance murred enthusiastically. "It's shaking just fine," he answered, grinding his furry ass back into the firm hands that held his glutes with enthusiasm. He turned around and gave the husky a long, playful lick along the side of his muzzle, not caring who noticed. Several students saw this and a few of them wolf-whistled.

"You are such a fucking tease!" Henry growled lustily. "What's up? Other than the usual?" he added thickly, squeezing the fox's sheath through his shorts in full view of everyone.

"I'm on a mission from the Coach," he answered, unconcerned by Henry's actions, then cocked his head to the side. "Have you seen Wilson anywhere?"

"That quiet human who has that really creepy walk? You know, the one where he keeps his arms at his sides all the time without swaying them and staying stooped over like he's trying to hide all the time? No," Henry said, shaking his head. "Come to think of it... I don't remember ever seeing him in here for lunch. You think he brings something from home?"

"Not a clue," Lance answered, shaking his head. "I'm going to go look for him," he said, pulling away from the husky reluctantly.

"Alright, but save some of that ass for me later!" Henry said lecherously, making the fox chuckle as he walked away.

One thing about John Wilson was his distinctive scent, one that had a slightly sour quality to it. That sourness didn't bother Lance, though, and he used that unique odor to track the human down to a bathroom. He entered softly and perked his ears up as he heard gentle sobbing coming from one of the toilet stalls. Shocked, Lance padded quetly over to the locked door and listened for a moment.

"Why? Why?" he heard the human's voice whisper to himself tearfully.

Lance felt saddened and decided to try speaking to the guy. He knocked softly, only to hear the loud sound of something thin and metallic clatter to the floor as John gasped in shock.

"Wilson? You in there?" Lance asked.

He heard frantic scrambling behind the door as the metal object was picked up. "I'll be out in a minute," he answered in a voice thick with emotion.

"Wilson, come out and talk to me... Coach Steele sent me to talk to you about the track team."

"I said I'm busy!" the human snapped through the door.

Lance heard mild grunting, but when his nose twiched, there was no oalfactory evidence that he was taking a dump. In fact, the grunts seemed to have a trembling, desperate sound to them. Then he heard a muffled sob. Alarmed, he used a hand claw to jimmy the lock on the stall door and burst in to see the human hiding his hands behind his back and looking shocked. His eyes were moist and it was clear both from his face and the salty scent in the air that Wilson had been crying.

Now, however, he began to look outraged. "What are you doing? Get out!"

"Dude! What you doing? What are you hiding behind your back?" the fox asked, feeling even more alarmed than before.

"Nothing!" the human protested.

"Bullshit!" Lance swore, grabbing him by the shoulders and hauling him to his feet roughly. Shocked, the human's grip faltered and a steak knife clattered to the floor. Lance stared down at it with horror, then looked at the human's panic-striken face. "Wilson? What are you doing with a knife?"

"None of your business!" the human snapped, moving to pick it up, but the fox put a shoe on top of the knife, trapping it against the floor.

"Not a chance, Dude!" Lance stated firmly. "What are you you doing witht hat knife?" he asked, his ears folding back and his tail drooping, feeling saddened because he felt he already knew the answer.

"Nothing," John said, trying to grab Lance's fur-covered leg and move it off of the knife, but the well-muscled leg stayed in place, denying him access to the weapon. Wilson shot up to glare at him resentfully. "Leave me alone!" he shouted.

"Not happening," Lance responded firmly, moving to block the way out of the stall when he saw Wilson glace at it.

"Leave me alone!" the human screamed again, then surprised Lance by shoving the fox hard suddenly, sending the vulpine sprawling out of the stall to land hard on the floor. As he fell, he tried to move his tail out of the way, but the tip got caught under his ass and was pinned painfully against the tiled floor, making him yipe loudly in pain.

Wilson took advantage of that and ran from the bathroom.

"Wilson... Wait...!" Lance gasped through his pain, rising slowly with difficulty and going to the door to the hallway. He looked in both directions, but the students filling the hallway blocked out all sight and scent of the human.

"Fuck," Lance groaned, cradling his injured tail as he pressed his forehead against the doorframe...

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*****

Lesson Four: Always Have a Reliable Partner When Working Out...

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Coach Steele stared at the knife laying on his desk, struck speechless. Then he sighed, laid his ears back and rubbed his closed eyes with his left handpaw. "I knew the boy was troubled, but I didn't think he would actually be suicidal..."

"So what do we do, Coach?" Lance asked, still cradling his sore tail-tip in his black-furred handpaws, massaging the black-furred tip carefully.

"We have two choices... We either try to recruit him and see if that helps, or report this to the county health board. If he's in too bad of shape, then the boy will have to be sent away for awhile... For his own good."

"Lock him away in a nut house?" Lance said, his hackles rising in alarm. "That's crazy! There has to be a better way!"

"You like him, don't you?" Coach Steele said to the fox with a weak smile.

"Yeah... There's something about him..."

"Well... We'll try a trial recruitment first. See how he reacts to it. If he seems better once it takes effect, we'll continue the process. If he reacts badly, we stop and turn him over to the county."

"How are we going to get the chance?" Lance asked. "He always hides in the crowd every chance he gets!"

"Just leave that to me," Coach Steele said with a knowing smile...

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John sighed as Coach Steele blew the whistle during P.E. the next day. "Wilson!" the wolf literally barked. "Hit the showers! You're done for the day!"

Sighing with resentment, John made his way to the locker rooms and the showers beyond them. He stripped down, fuming. *What do they expect from me, anyways? Why does it even matter?* He stepped into the shower and turned the water on until it was hot before stepping into it.

Suddenly, the door to his shower stall was flung open and Lance entered, closing the door behind him. "What the fuck are you doing?" John exclaimed in shock.

"All the other stalls are taken," the fox replied casually. "You don't mind sharing, do you? It's the least you can do to repay me for my not ratting you out to everyone, not to mention you making me land on my tail. Luckily I didn't hurt it too badly. I think you owe me an apology."

"Piss off!" John snapped, furious at the animal for harrassing him.

"Oh come on, man!" Lance replied in exasperation. "I really worked up a major funk out there on the field! See for yourself," he said and before the human could stop him, the fox grabbed his head and shoved it roughly into his armpit, making the human gag from the stench and struggle vainly to escape. It was no use, though, as the fox was much stronger than him.

"Let me go!" he shouted into the orange-red and white fur.

"Not happening," Lance drawled lazily. "Just let go, man."

"Fuck you!" John snarled.

"Thought you'd never ask," Lance said huskily.

John couldn't hold his breath any longer and gasped for air, filling his lungs with the pungent vulpine musk. Being so close to the source and sucking in so much of it as he fought to breathe, John recieved a massive dose of the pherimones, his mind growing hazy as his attempts to escape became more and more feeble...

The black-furred wolf growled lustily as the hot shaft up his ass sprayed squirt after squirt of hot jizz up his willing hole, his tail held away to allow Lance easy access. "Ah fuck yeah! That's what I needed!" He arched his back and gasped in pleasure as his own pinkish shaft sprayed forth its own spunk onto the shower wall from his disappointingly mushroom-shaped head.

"Glad you liked it, Jason," Lance cooed, licking the wolf's black-furred lupine ear affectionately.

Jason... Yah... That was his name... Nice and butch...

"Yeah, but you held back too much," Jason sulked as he came down from his orgasm. "I wanted your knot. How's come you didn't tie me?"

"Now, now," Lance purred in his ear. "All good things come to those who wait. We have tons of time for that later. We'd better get back out on the field before the coach comes looking for us."

Jason sighed and went to shut off the water, but snarled lustily with shock as Lance pulled out of him roughly. "Oh you fucker! You love being such a dirty tease, huh?"

"Hell yeah," Lance said seductively as Jason turned to face him with a savage smile and the tips of his fangs showing. "But you make that sound like a bad thing," Lance added with a grin before interlocking his muzzle with Jason's as they french kissed. He pulled away quickly. "Come on, shake your tail."

"Right," Jason said, shutting off the shower.

After they dried off, they got dressed quickly, Lance quickly locating a uniform that would fit the athletically muscled black-furred wolf with gold eyes, then led the way back out to the track.

"'Bout time you two got out here," Coach Steele said, pausing for a moment to stare at Jason as though he had never seen him before.

"You alright, Coach?" Jason asked.

"It's nothing," the coach said, smiling at him in a reassuring way.

"Sorry Coach," Lance appologized. "Jason and I lost track of time." He turned to the wolf and playfully punched him on the bicep. "Come on, Western. Let's show these pussies how it's done!"

"Hell yeah," the wolf agreed with enthusiasm, then they joined the rest of the track team for their warm-up stretching before lining up on the starting line.

The coach blew his whistle as he clicked the stop watch and Jason took off running...

John slowly became aware of the ice-cold water raining down on him and started shivering. Slowly coming to his senses, he realized he was standing alone in the shower. The locker room entirely empty except for him.

*How long have I been in here?* he wondered. Confused and cold, he shut the water off and grabbed a towel, then made his way to his bag where he'd left his school uniform. He put it on, noting that it felt oddly tight against his skin, then put his shoes on, which felt similarly too small for him. He glanced up at the wall clock to see that it was just after six.

*Wait! What? How come it's so late! What's going on? How could I have stayed in the shower for three hours without anyone saying anything or me not noticing?*

Feeling suddenly worried, he left quickly, heading directly home...

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*****

Lesson Five: Stay Focused On Your Goals...

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The alarm clock went off two days later, jolting John awake. He reached over and slapped it off, then collapsed back onto his bed. As he did so, something very thin tickled his nose, and he rose up, only then realizing how very sore he felt, and looked at his pillow. There on the pillowcase were a few thick black hairs. He rubbed his eyes to remove the sleep from them and picked the hairs up to examine them. While his hair was dark, these hairs weren't from him. They were black, rather than his own dark brown and were somewhat thicker in diameter. Confused, he threw them in the trash can next to his bed and rose to a sitting position.

As he did so, he realized he had no idea how he had gotten home. In fact... Everything after he had entered the showers during P.E. when the coach ejected him from the track for the second day in a row was missing. He had stepped into the shower... And now he was at home in bed.

*What's wrong with me? I've never forgotten half a day before. First I black out in the shower, now this. What was I doing? Where did I go from the showers? How did I even get home?*

The answers wouldn't come. Confused and worried, he rose and headed to the shower, noticing that his ass was as sore as the rest him and not understanding why...

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Terry stared at his son, who ate in a distracted manner. In truth, he was too preoccupided with his own worries to pay much attention to those of his son. For the last several days, he'd been suffering memory lapses and bizzare thoughts in regards to his son. The parent munched his jellied toast, staring at John who seemed deep in thought with a frown. He was used to John being quiet and witdrawn these days, so didn't think anything unusual in the lad's behavior.

John rose once he finished and left without saying a word to his father, which was again the usual for them. Terry watched his son leave, feeling as though they were drifting farther apart with every day.

*Maybe it's my fault,* Terry thought to himself sadly. *Is that why I'm loosing my mind...?*

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P.E. was once again cut short for him, but Lance joined him once again shortly after he entered the locker room. "Hey Jason, wait up!"

John stopped and stared at the fox in confusion. For the last several days now, Lance was always getting his name wrong. "Hey man, my name's John, not Jason. And for the last time, my last name is Wilson, not Western," he corrected, not noticing the fact that new words like 'Man' and 'Dude' had begun creeping into his vocabulary.

"John's way too common a name," Lance answered with a dismissive wave of his handpaw. "Jason suits you better."

John wanted to say no, but something down inside stopped him. He didn't understand what was going on, so he changed subjects. "Say Lance? Why do so many new students drop out all the time?" he asked, glancing over at a locker that bore a new nametag. Buster Kindel had just joined the volleyball team his first day at school and while the Irish Setter seemed like a nice enough guy, he had transfered in the very same day, yesterday, that Barney Klonski had dropped out. Come to think of it, John could remember only two other humans besides himself who were left from the all-human first year class.

"The classes are brutal here and those who can't hack it are either cut or drop out. It's a harsh environment, but those who survive are the cream of the crop."

"There's not a lot of cream -left- to this crop," John said darkly, wondering if he would be the next person to go. Between all the disappearances and his blackouts, it was surely only... A matter... Of time...

Suddenly, a horrible idea popped into his head. "Lance? Was I hanging out with you yesterday afternoon?" he asked slowly.

"Yeah," the fox answered, putting on his gym shirt. "We had track practice after hours."

John tried as hard as he could, but couldn't remember anything after hitting the showers after P.E. yesterday.

"Come on or we'll be made to run extra laps," Lance said, heading for the door.

"I'll be there in a second," John said in what he hoped passed for a calm voice as the vulpine student left the locker room.

Once Lance was gone, John collpased onto the bench, beginning to tremble... Lance was lying. John didn't know how he knew, or what the lie consisted of, but he was certain of it. He looked around slowly, noting all of the new names on the lockers of the team mates and all of the empty hooks where his fellow human students had hung their bags, since they had no lockers which were reserved for members of the sports teams. So many humans had vanished, all replaced the same day by animals. Then there were his blackouts.

It all added up. He felt sick, as though he wanted to throw up, but couldn't. There was only one explaination... John was killing off the human students to make way for more talented, non-human students. Why else would everyone he'd entered school with be vanishing, only to be immediately, perfectly replaced by talented athletes? Lance was surely in on the plot. Coach Steele had to be in on it too.

John looked at Coach Steele's office. Now would be the best time to search his office for evidence. He walked over and opened the door to the office, then nearly retched as a heavy wave of stale musk assaulted him. He took deep, shuddering breaths, then forced himself to enter the room. He walked around behind the coach's desk and saw that there were strange, white crusty stains on the back of the desk and the chair behind it, as well as on the floor beneath it.

"Gross," he muttered quietly in revulsion, then made his way to the drawers of the desk. He opened them, searching around until he found a file folder containing the names of the first year students. Each student were listed by name, position and scent. John found his name there on the list. "Track team" was listed for his position and a check mark under the scent column, but that made no sense because he couldn't remember any of his track training sessions...

But then again, he thought, remembering the wind rushing past him, the sharp scents on the air, the thumping of his heart and the dull, rythmic thud of his sneekers in the dirt as he propelled himself along, hqadn't he been running for the team? Then there was Lance, pressing up against him, hot breath on his ear, which had felt out of place. Not the breath, but his ear.

John shook his head. No, that made no sense. He was certain he had never been on the track for team training, but those odd feelings of running, his hot breath coming out of his mouth with every rapid exhale... *What the fuck's happening to me?* He wondered.

"Mr. Wilson!" an angry voice snarled at him from the doorway. He looked up in shock to see the coach standing there, paws on his hips and his right lip curled upward aggressively. "What do you think you're doing?"

Suddenly, John noticed that he wasn't as scared of the coach has he thought he should be. He stood his ground. "Trying to gather evidence. I know you've had something to do with my blackouts, you and Lance."

"You don't remember anything yet?" Coach Steele asked him, looking slightly disappointed.

John faltered. "R-remember what?"

The coach sighed and shook his head. "Still at Stage two, huh? You're progressing more slowly than I'd hoped," he said sadly. "Maybe you need a more intense expossure..."

"Expossure? To what?" John asked, growing nervous.

The coach walked up to him and John's brain went foggy as the strong scenet of the wolf's body washed over him. "Don't worry, Jason. We'll have you in top form soon enough," he said as he pressed himself up against the teen's body.

"Jason...? I'm John..." the lad said with difficulty, his mind spinning...

Then he blacked out again...

*****

Lesson Six: Take Regular Breaks To Avoid Injury...

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John's eyes snapped open as morning birdsong drifted in through the open window and he bolted upright in bed, looking around wildly. *Wait... What am I doing at home? I was in the coach's office...* John sat there, trying as hard as he could to remember anything, but all he could remember was odd flashes... A sense of feeling powerful, growling in pleasure, drinking in the erotic scent of the coach's musky body with his long, sensative nose... *No... That's impossible. I'm a human, not a canine,* he thought, then rose slowly and went to shower.

He moved into the bathroom and stopped as he passed the mirror, ctching his reflection out of the corner of his eye. Something about his reflection had been wrong and as he moved back into place, his eyes bulged in their sockets. Whereas he had been a scrawny boy who's ribs had shown under the skin, he now boasted an impressive amount of muscle. His pecs swelled beautifully, his abdominals were well on their way to becoming chisled, his biceps and triceps were beginning to stand out proudly under the skin. He was nearly at the point of having the well-muscled body he would need to be a top-notch track star. "Fuck yeah," he sighed, flexing in the mirror and beginning to feel aroused.

What he needed right now was his mate, but Lance wasn't here. He sighed with regret. *Well, I'll see him in P.E., then for practice. We'll have to kick it into high gear if we want to beat Ridgeside at the meet next month-*

John stopped at that. *Wait... What the fuck?* he thought, realizing he was talking about things he had no memory of. But wait... He did remember. He remembered trying out for the track team, impressing everyone with his speed, celebrating his winning a top spot on the track team and the coach telling him he had the makings of a top runner as he panted out the last of the heat he had build up from his run. Then Lance had been there, licking his muzzle playfully and leading him into the shower to offer his personal congratulations by riding his eager tail howl until he howled with joy as he came, spewing his seed from his black-furred nuts... He began to grow nervous, then scared as his memories returned. Suddenly, he knew who this Jason Western was. It was him...

Just then, the phone rang and he heard his father answer it. "John! Phone!"

John hurried back to his room, his mind still derailed by his conflicting thoughts. "Got it," he said, picking up the phone in his room, then staring at it. *Wait... When did I get a phone in here... And since when does anyone ever call me?* "Hello?" he said into the phone with uncertainty.

"Hey Jason. What's up?" Lance's voice asked over the phone.

John gasped as a powerful surge of lust ran through his body, stunning him both with its presence and its intensity. He became shocked and confused as his legs went weak and he dropped onto his bed, keeping the phone to his ear. "Wh-what the fuck?"

"I miss you, buddy. Wish you were here right now."

"What's going on?" John gasped, feeling somewhat scared.

"Don't be afraid... Everything will be just fine... Jason Western."

John gasped and groaned, feeling as though he was having a dry orgasm as his muscles swelled under the skin, straining the fabric of his pjs. "Aw fuck!" he groaned, arching his back as his pecs grew larger. He heard the fabric of his pajama top start to tear slowly.

"That's it, Jason... Don't hold back," Lance sighed into the phone in a husky tone of voice.

John snarled like a beast as his body swelled further, the cloth of his top shredding under the strain of his surging muscles, the legs of his pants ripping and his thighs followed suit. He groaned and stretched, barely able to keep the phone held to his ear... But he had to hear it again. His name... "Fuckin' A!" He growled in lust, his voice sounding like that of an animal.

"Yeah, that's it Western. Let it all out!" Lance snarled in his ear. "Release the beast!"

"You fucking tease!" John snarled savagely, reaching down to his crotch and grabbing the fabric in his muscled hand.

Rrriiiiiippp!

He tore the cloth away with a growl, freeing his trapped erection which began to drool precum like a faucet. He grabbed his meat and started pounding away, rolling onto his side and trapping the phone between his head and the mattress. With a few final ripping sounds, the last of his pjs fell away, revealing an athelically muscled body that was beginning to rapidly sprout black fur. He masturbated frantically, panting like a dog as his body changed further. He groaned as his tail appeared, growing out rapidly from the base of his spine, the long thin appendage filling out with black fur as it wagged erradically with bliss. His nipples grew stiff as all of the skin on his body turned jet black, his hair following suit as it shrank and turned into the same fur that began to cover the rest of his body in a thin layer that showed the definition of the muscles beneath.

John groaned as he masturbated his darkening and swelling dick furiously, lost in bliss. "Oh fuck! You got me so hard, Penders!"

"Fuck yeah. Doggie got a bone?" Lance teased.

"I'm a wolf, asshole! Don't you forget it!" John snarled with pride into the receiver, his eyes now a golden yellow and his teeth growing pointed, the nails of his hands and feet growing and narrowing as they darked all the way to black as they reformed into claws. "Ah shit! I gotta tie you so bad! Watch you thrash around, trapped on my fucking dick, whimpering and begging for more as I breed your ass!"

"Fuck yeah!" Lance moaned and murred. "That's it, stud. Bury your knot in your mate's tailhole!"

John cried out in lust, his ears sliding upwards as his face pushed out into a muzzle slowly, his whiskers poking their way out from above the front of his lips. He flicked out his wide, flat tongue to lick his triangular, leathery black nose and his now triangular ears twitched as they finished their migration to the top of his skull. The scent of his own lust spurred him onwards as his wolven musk filled the air.

The black-furred wolf rolled onto his stomach as his transformation completed, humping the mattress rapidly. "Ah fuck yeah, I'm gonna blow!" he growled lustily the phone sliding from his paw.

"Do it, Jason! Blow that wolf-spink all over the place!" Lance growled, the wolf's sharp hearing catching the words perfectly. He grapped the pillow and burried his muzzle under it, muffling his howl of triumph as he came, soaking the bed beneath him in his lupine spew. He heard Lance cry out, a vulpine howl of release and knew his mate had climaxed with him.

He pulled his muzzle out from under the pillow, feeling drained, yet still maoning with pleasure as his orgasm continued, small spurts of jizz jetting out from his still twitching wolfhood. He felt his bliss marred slightly at the improper look to his equipment. The penis wasn't red enough, the tip still had a mushroom head and there wasn't a knot. Also, the sheath was only partway attached to his torso. "Still not there yet," he sighed with disappointment, then shuddered as another orgasmic tremor coursed along his shaft and made him grunt with pleasure.

"Be patient," Lance said, making him pull the phone back to his ear. "You'll be all the way there pretty soon." Lance murred with pleasure, gasping as another burst of orgasmic bliss hit him from his end of the phone. "You're so fucking hot... And you're all mine... My mate." The wolf felt a surge of joy and love at that. "Who's my mate?" Lance asked. "Tell me his name."

"Jason," the wolf panted. "Jason Western."

"Umm hmm. My big stud of a wolf... Well," he said, sighing with regret. "If we're going to make it to practice today, I'd better let you rest up."

"Yeah, these transformations take too much out of me," Jason said with a sigh.

"You're nearly there," Lance reasured him.

"I can't wait to get my real dick," Jason sighed in anticipation. "See you at the track."

"It's a date, wolfie."

Jason licked the phone wetly, then was rewarded by a similar slurping sound from the other end before Lance hung up.

Jason sighed, hung up and closed his eyes, the transformation and sexual release having sapped his energy. A nap was in order if he wanted to be in proper shape for practice later today. Feeling contented, he drifted back to sleep...

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*****

Lesson Seven: Stretch Out Properly before Exercising...

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John made his way to school in a daze. He remembered everything now, his missing memories having come back. He chided himself for his stupidity. *Me, a sleeper assassin for the coach?* he rolled his eyes, feeling shamed of himself. As he walked, he could feel Jason inside of his head, laughing at him gently. He shook his head sadly. *I guess I owe both Lance and the coach an apology,* he thought.

He now understood what was happening at the school. There were no missing students. Everyone who was in the first year now had started there, all of the humans having transformed into new, canine forms and many of them joining the sports teams. John reflected on the 'transfer students' and realized that they all seemed to be much happier now. He wanted to share in that happiness.

He found himself walking through the cemetary and stopped at his mother's grave for what he knew would be the last time. *Mom... I'm sorry I got you killed,* he thought sadly, *but maybe this way I can make it up to you.*

He had been about to turn seven and had begged his mother for a cream-filled cake for his birthday, so she had driven out to get it. The truck that had run the red light had struck her car from the side, killing her instantly. *She died because I wanted a stupid 'special' cake. I might as well have shot her in the head... No wonder Dad hates me so much. Maybe that's why he barely speaks to me ever since then. He blames me for her death, too.* "I'm sorry mom," he said quietly, "but I'm going to go away now. I wish I'd never asked for that stupid cake. Maybe with me gone, you can rest in peace and Dad will start to feel better without me around to remind him that you're dead. I hope someday you can forgive me."

John knew that his life was coming to an end. He didn't want to live anymore, but that didn't mean that Jason couldn't have a life full of happiness in his place. He'd give himself over to the wolf gladly, hoping that Jason's life would be a happier one than his own had been. In the end, wouldn't that be the same as dying, in its own way? John found that he wasn't afraid. There were far worse ways for the life of John Wilson to come to an end and he could now fade away into the life of someone better than himself.

Feeling at peace with his fate, John left the cemetary behind and made his way to school...

He reached the locker rooms before the rest of the team and saw the lights on in the coach's office, so he walked over and knocked. "Come in," the lupine voice said, so the human entered the office for what he knew would be the last time.

"Coach?"

"You're here early. Practice isn't for another half hour. Mr. Wilson."

"It's alright, Coach. You don't have to lie anymore. I remember all of it now."

Coach steele gave him a messuring look. "Oh?"

"I know that I've been transforming into a wolf named Jason Western. And I also know that the same thing has been happening to all of the other human students. All of the missing kids are actually the new transfer students and you're the one responsible for all of it, but I can't figure out how."

"You've progressed rather nicely, Mr. Western," the coach said with approval, smiling at the shiver of lust that ran through John's body at the sound of that name. "Come sit down."

John did so and the large gray wolf leaned forward over his desk from his chair. "It's pherimones that do it. The Steele clan secretes special pherimones that can awaken dormant animal traits in certain humans. We carefully screen each potential canidate for admition and I cheek them out to make sure they have the potential to be changed," he said, tapping his nose. "Not every human can be changed, but we Steeles can smell the potential in those who can. Then we go to work on them, slowly bringing out the animal that lies buried deep within them. You see, all we do is bring out the person you're meant to be. With enough expossure to our pherimones, you transform more thouroughly and for longer periods of time. It starts with the human suffering blackouts, then they start to retain some of the changes to musculature and personality. Then they begin to react to the mention of certain things, such as their new name. Then they start to regain their lost memories. After that, they come to accept what's happening to them and lastly, they make the final transition. Are you ready to leave your humanity behind, son?"

John nodded. "I'm just about ready, but I need to get a few things out of the way first."

"Oh?" Coach Steele asked, cocking his head slightly.

"First, I want to apologize. I had this stupid idea that you were turning me into a sleeper assassin to take out the other human students so you could replace them with qualified athletes."

The coach stared at him, looking stunned. "What?" he asked in amazement, then burst out laughing. "Where in the world did you come up with something like that?" he wheezed, barely able to breath due to laughing so hard. It was well over a minute before he recovered.

"Well," John said sheepishly. "I was having blackouts and students keep disappearing, so I thought I was the one responsible. Then all of you acted like nothing was happening, so what was I supposed to think?"

Coach Steele groaned and rubbed his eyes with a handpaw. "What is with kids today? No, Mr. Western," he said, smiling as the lad shuddered in reaction to the name. "No one has died and you're not a killer. I accept your apology, however, and thank you... I haven't laughed that hard in ages! ...Is there anything else you want to talk about?"

"Can you tell my dad something? Can you tell him I'm sorry that I got my mom killed?"

The coach folded his ears back and looked at the lad with a mixture of shock and pity. "You didn't-"

"I did!" John stated firmly. "I wanted a stupid 'special' cake for my birthday and she died trying to get it for me. If I'd just accepted a regular one, she'd still be alive. I killed her and that's why Dad hates me and won't even talk to me anymore. He knows it's my fault and he hates me for it. But once I'm gone and only Jason is left, maybe he'll be able to be happy again."

The wolf stared at him in shock for a moment, then shook his head sadly. "No boy, you have it all wrong... The reason your father doesn't talk to you is because he blames himself for your mother's death and thinks that you blame him as well. He told me he was the one who had asked her to pick up the cake for you instead of him. He doesn't hate you,son... He believes that you're the one who hates him because she died."

John sat there, feeling stunned. He was struck speechless, not knowing what to say. Finally, he got his voice back. "He thinks I blame him?"

"Yes," the coach said. "I think it would be a good idea for you to have a long talk with him after we're done here... So," the gray wolf added. "While we're talking about personal things, I assume it's safe to say that you're not still contemplating suicide?"

John sighed. "Lance told you?"

The coach nodded. "We're all worried about you, son, but I'm glad to hear that you seem to be doing better."

"Yeah... I figure becoming someone else is better than dying. Will... Will there be anything left of me once he's fully out?" the human asked nervously.

"You and Jason will become one and the same, but his personality traits will be more dominant, yes. It's not a bad thing, though. You certainly seem much happier as Jason than you do as John."

John had shuddered several times, seeming to be fighting his animal side for control. "Not-... Not yet," he said, mostly to himself. "What about my dad?" he forced out between spasms. "He'll wonder what happened to me."

"Don't worry, son. Thaddeus Western is already well on his way to becoming one of us. I was hoping you could help him finish his journey... Once we finish yours of course, Mr. Western."

John gasped as his muscles swelled, stretching his clothing and causing the seams to begin ripping apart. "Fuck!" John maqoned in bliss. Jason was getting stronger and stronger by the moment. The idea of mounting his dad and turning him into a big, sexy wolf was shattering the human's last resistance to crossing the point of no return. All he needed now was for him to achieve his proper penis... And he knew the coach could help him get it.

"So, Mr. Western," the coach said slowly, leaning back in his chair and letting his musk fill the air. He moved his chair back from the desk and put his arms behind his head so that his powerful pherimones could pour his scent forth from his pits unobstructed. "Are there any more issues you feel need to be adressed before we finish your journey?"

John was breathing heavily, dliberately taking in the coach's scent and understanding what was happening to him. He surrendered himself to Jason, letting the wolf take over. He felt the wolf's mind engulf his own and merge with it as his muscles swelled further, causing him to literally burst out of his clothing. He growled lustily as the black fur began to cover his darkening skin. He stood up with difficulty, kicking off the shoes that were too small to hold his transforming feet. "Come on Coach! Let's fucking do this! I want my wolf dick! ...And yours, too!" he finished with a snarl.

He moved around the coach's desk to get at him, dropping to his knees as Coach Steele sat back to show he wasn't wearing anything below the waist. His large red wolf dick fully erect and jutting proudly from his gray-furred sheath, the firm knot pushing the edge of the sheath downwards, the slick shaft twitching as a short jet of precum squirted from the tapered tip.

As the transforming teen knelt, his tail sprouted and grew fur. He was about to lower his head to the coach's meat when the office door burst open. He looked up as his head began to change shape, the ears rising upwards and growing triangular as his face began to push forward into a lupine snout.

Lance stood there, looking at him hungrily. "Jason," he said huskily, causing the dark canine to close his eyes and moan lustily as his mate spoke his name, a wave of erotic bliss surging through him and spurring his transformation further along.

His features finished their transition quickly until Jason's face was fully formed. "Fuck. Get over here, Lance. You're missing out on all the fun. Coach was just giving me a pointer on how to perform better."

"Yeah Lance," the coach drawled, bucking his hips in anticipation of the other wolf's muzzle. "Come help me show Jason how it's done."

Lance tore off his clothes frantically and hurried to his mate's side, dropping to all fours and burying his nose under Jason's tail, taking in his lupine scent before lapping eagerly at the dark sphincter and finally shoving his tongue through the warm ring of muscle.

Jason gasped with pleasure, murring in bliss and squeezing down on that hot wet tongue as it writhed around inside him, getting quite far inside his body. He dove on the coach's meat, lapping away at it eagerly. The salty taste of the adult wolf's pre danced on his tongue and he took the full length into his muzzle, suckling on the firm shaft like a nursing puppy. He felt the hot splashes of precum hit the back of his throat and growled lustily in pleasure, his musk growing stronger the more of the coach's fluids he sucked down.

Lance pulled his tongue free and tugged on Jason's hips. Whimpering slightly as his mate pulled him away from the coach, he got a surprise when Lance turned him over onto his back and took his position. Jason howled lowly in bliss as the fox's pre-slickened shaft punched into his hungry tailhole, filling him with hard, vulpine manliness. "I wanna see it," Lance said in a lusty tone. "I want to see the look in your eyes when I knot you."

"AW FUCK YEAH!" Jason growled fiercely, baring his teeth at his mate in a display of feral lust and masculinity. "BURY THAT DICK UP MY ASS!" He snarled in a growl so deep that his words were barely recognizable. He snarled as the hard lump at the base of Lance's shaft forced it's way inside him, his sphincter clamping down on it involuntarily. Lance humped him a few times, then pulled back.

Jason's mind realed at the pain in his guts both from being drug along by his ass and also by the delicious fullness inside his rectum and squeezed harder on the fox's shaft with his anal muscles as he slid backwards a few inches. He was fully knotted and dropped his head back as he cried out with joy at the sensations filling his body. After a few minutes, he looked down at his own shaft to see the reddish penis expossed from its sheath. The plump sheath was now properly attached to his torso, but the shaft was still disappointingly human-shaped despite being longer and thicker than John's had been. He whimpered, his ears folded back with sadness that he still wasn't complete.

"Come here pup," Coach Steele said, lowering himself to the floor and offering the black lupine his still firm wolfhood. "You just need more protein. Drink up."

Jason eagerly took the coach's offered cock and slurped away at it eagerly, roving his canine tongue over it and curling it around the length of hot wolfmeat. He slurped over the coach's knot and past it to dive into the sheath and grind the tip of his tongue along the sensative base of the gray wolf's erection, making the coach groan and convulse in pleasure.

Coach Steele gasped and cried out. "Oh fuck yeah, boy! Scrape the base of my meat! Dig your tongue down in there. Oh fuck that's hot!" He laid back his ears, his musk becoming overpowering and driving the three of them into a frenzy, Lance following close behind, his vulpine mush filling the air. The coach lost control and shoved his hips forward rapidly, mounting Jason's muzzle with rapid thrusts as his moans came faster and sounded more urgent.

"Do it, Coach!" Lance cheered his teacher on. "Take him across the finish line!"

Coach Steele cried out in release, blowing his load in the black wolf's mouth and giving him what he needed. His dick pulsed again and again, spraying his infectious protein-cum down the young wolf's gullet. After several minutes, he pulled off as Jason began to moan and buck his hips rapidly. Lance took the hint and pounded his mate's ass for all it was worth until he climaxed, moaning loudly as he filled the black-furred tailhole of his love with his vulpine essence.

But Jason kept humping the air, groaning with need. He looked down at himself as he felt his shaft grow tighter, the penis growing to a full fourteen inches as the head disolved into the proper shape with a tapered tip. He felt a further swelling both in his growing testicles, which swelled to the size of tennis balls, and in the base of his shaft, watching with wide eyes as his growing knot pushed free from his sheath. He grabbed it in his right handpaw and squeezed tightly. That proved too much for him and he howled at the top of his lungs in triumph as his dick exploded, spraying his face with cum and expelling the last traces of the human John Wilson from his lupine body. He continued to howl in exstacy as he came for several minutes, covering them all in the protein-powered cum that filled the testicles of every member of the Steele clan as his fully-matured wolf-musk filled the air and mixed with that of his mate and their coach...

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*****

Lesson Eight: Never Forget the People Who Helped You to Get Where You Are Today...

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Lance pulled his motorcycle into the driveway of his mate's home and killed the engine. Jason gave him one more affectionate squeeze before hoping off and removing the specially designed helmet that protected his wolven head from injury, shaking his head in a canine manner to settle his short fur back into place. Lance followed suit, then they fastened to helmets to the bike after the fox locked it and headed for the door.

"Come on," Jason said with a canine grin as his tail wagged eagerly back and forth. "I'll introduce you to my old man." Eager for what was to come, the black wolf led the way into the house...

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Terry paused, thinking he had heard the sound of a bike in the driveway, but dismissed it. He didn't know anyone who owned a motorcycle and neither did his son, so he passed it off as his imagination and resumed stroking his manhood eagerly.

Terry didn't know why, but within the last several days, his sex drive had increased. He hadn't been this horny since he was a teenager. Although the man tried as hard as he could, he couldn't think about anything other than male canines and his own son. That disturbed him, but each time he got horny, his objections had become weaker and weaker and the fantasies more and more vivid.

"Hey Pop, I'm home!" A slightly gruff voice called out. Terry's strokes faltered. First off, his son hardly ever announced he was home. Second, he never did so in a cheerful tone like that and lastly, he NEVER called his father 'Pop'. Terry blinked in confusion, then grabbed desperately for something to cover himself as the door to his bedroom opened to reveal a large, black wolf standing there, smiling at him with a knowing expression on his canine features. "Hi Pop. Hope I'm interrupting something fun," he said in a suggestive tone full of lust, staring at the tent under the bedsheet the human had used to cover himself with.

"Who are you?" Terry asked in shock. "What are you doing in here?"

The wolf rolled his eyes. "Stop being so melodramatic, Pop. It's me, Jason." Terry stared at him blankly. The wolf sighed with disgust and rolled his eyes again. "Your son?" he added, sounding as though he thought Terry should know better.

Terry sputtered with disbelief. "No you're not! My son is human and his name is John!"

Jason winced. "I always hated that name... Way to soft sounding. Oh, I want you to meet my boyfriend, Lance," he said as a young orange-red furred fox next to him smiled and waved.

"Hey Mr. Western. Nice to meet you," the fox said, cruising the human shamelessly.

The human gasped at the sound of that name and fought to recover his compusure, not knowing why being called that was such a turn on. "You're not my son!" he said to the wolf. "I think I'd know my own child!" he said in protest.

Jason sighed and sat on the corner of the bed. "Pop..." he said, laying back his ears. "I'm sorry mom's gone... Do you...? Do you hate me because she died trying to get me that stupid birthday cake?"

Terry's mouth fell open in shock. Other than he and his son, very few others had ever known why Helen had been out driving that day. "How do you know about that?"

"Because it really is me, Pop. I don't blame you for her dying. But I thought you blamed me. After she died, you were so quiet all the time and never said two words to me. I started to wonder if you felt like it was my fault she got killed in that car crash. I wouldn't blame you if you did, but she's gone and we're still here, Pop. I loved her, but we need to move on."

"John...? Is that really you? What happened to you?" Terry asked, staring at the wolf who knew things only he and John had known.

The wolf shook his head. "It's Jason now, remember? Lance picked it out for me. I think it suits me better... Just like the name Thaddeus suits you better than Terry."

Terry shuddered, his body spasming with a burst of orgasmic pleasure at that name. "H-how did you know that name?" he asked with difficulty.

"I like it, Pop. That name sounds much more manly... Thaddeus."

Terry groaned, feeling his skin grow taunt against his frame as his withered erection sprung back to life. Jason pulled the bedsheet off of him and boldly took the man's shaft into his paw. "Want a hand with that, Pop?"

Before he could stop himself, Thad, no, Terry, thrust his hips up into the young wolf's paw eagerly. "Oh fuck!"

"Come on, Mr. Western," Lance piped in. "We know how to handle a bone like that one." He walked over and lightly raked the man's bare back with the claws of his left handpaw, making the human shiver with lust.

Jason tore off his clothes and took his Pop's head into his paw, using it to guide his parent to the musk-dampened pit of his other arm. "Breathe it in, Pop. That's the smell of success!"

Thad... Terry... Whoever he was... Moaned lustily as the potent wolf-musk went to work on him, increasing his libido. After several minutes of having wolf-musk pumped into his system through his nose, he sighed lustily as Jason bent his head down until his nose was to the man's ear. "Guess what, Pop?" he whispered huskily. "I finally got my knot today... And I saved it just for you."

Thad moaned hungrily, wanting that knot. "Ah fuck yeah, Jason. Give it to me!"

Jason turned his father around and brought him up to hands and knees, then breathed in the musky scent of his father's nether region before rimming him, doing for his Pop what Lance had done for him. Thad pushed back against his son's muzzle eagerly as his muscles swelled and his skin began to darken as black fur began to emerge from every pour on his body. He groaned with disappointment when Jason pulled his long mouth and tongue way from his parent's posterior, but then gasped in shock as Jason climbed onto his back, his hot prong poking against his father's buttocks until...

Thad and Jason cried out in mutual pleasure as the son's shaft slid into his father's warm interior. He began to hump backwards madly as his tail sprouted and his head transformed into that of a wolf, his claws digging into the sheets of the bed. He snarled lustily as Jason slammed his knot into his dad's ass, locking them together.

Lance, meanwhile, had pounced on Jason and thrust his own penis up his mate's tailhole, pumping that furry butt with gusto. He leaned forward and licked the black wolf's ear. "Do it man. Fill your pop's ass with your spunk. Blow your load up his ass!"

That was too much for the younger wolf, who howled loudly as he did as his mate instructed. Thad's penis transformed into it's new wolven shape and began to pulse as the knot burst free of his sheath, soaking the bed beneath him with hot wolfcum and taking the last of his humanity with it until all that remained was the wolf Thaddeus Western, who growled lustily as his son filled his ass with protein. "That's my boy," he groaned in pleasure.

They came for over ten minutes, Jason's cum overflowing and oozing out of his Pop's tailhole to mat his crotch and thigh fur. Lance's own sperm trickled out of Jason's anus to coat him as well.

Finally, the trio, still tied together in a canine chain of lust, collapsed onto the gooey mess of spent semen and began to drift to sleep as fatigue set in.

"I love you, Pop," Jason sighed.

"I love you too, Jason," Thad sighed, reaching back to give his boy a one-armed hug. "And Lance?" he said more loudly.

"Yes Sir?" the fox asked groggily.

"Call me Pop... And welcome to the family."

The fox smiled as he joined his mate and father-in-law in the last stages of wakefulness. "Just wait til my dad meets you, Pop. You two will fucking love each other."

The wolves chuckled.

"Can't wait," Thad said before sleep claimed him as his sons snoozed on his back.