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Rise Up Written by Trickster_D and Leo_Todrius Anonymous commission

The bottling plant was a complex, sophisticated and busy place where foods, chemicals and additives were turned from massive scale chemistry experiments into the clean, neat, friendly drinks that were very much part of everyone's daily lives. Thousands of plastic bottles moved from presses up tracks and rails, taken from massive numbers into a single file line. They were lifted, hoisted, dropped, spun and turned as they took a serpentine path through the factory. The white walls of the building were power washed so frequently that there were drains left in the cement floor. The afternoon sun came through small horizontal rectangle windows twelve feet off the ground, casting a grid of light on the floor, glaring off of the stainless steel machines.

In a way it almost felt like a mechanical jungle with mountains of steel, trees of pipes and vines made out of cables. Nearly every feature of the factory had been automated, but one last layer of quality control was left to the humans - a visual inspection of the bottles on their way to the capping machine. Despite the fortune poured into the filling system, there would be times when it would over or under fill bottles. It was up to Callum to keep a watchful and wary eye out for any mistakes... It was not a job Callum was focused on.

The twenty year old high school dropout seemed out of place in the sterile facility. His jeans were worn and faded, torn out in the knees. His sandals exposed his feet to the air and his neon yellow sleeveless tank top exposed far too much skin for a work environment. His dark brown hair was pulled back tight on top and bound into a top knot ponytail, while the sides were shaved shorter. The shaved hair transitioned seamlessly into a stubble beard that covered his well tanned face.

In the midst of all of the sounds of the factory, between the hisses and the thumps and the clattering of metal rollers, was a steadily increasing moan - and a faintly wet, flapping noise. Callum's fly had been undone, revealing that the young man wore no boxers, and that he was avidly working on his erection. A ringed hand flew up and down his cock, working the flesh around the head of his cock and back down.

Callum writhed in his chair, his weight shifting all around as he masturbated, his face twisting into all manner of expressions. He had discovered some months prior that he was there as a formality, a legal requirement. The machines had been upgraded to the point that human intervention was only needed if something went catastrophically wrong. For a long time Callum had been entirely bored, but now... he saw it as an excuse to do whatever he wanted.

Some days he'd spent there drunk. Some he'd slept his entire shift. He'd invited people over a few times, texted, done just about everything... But tonight, tonight Callum was horny. The man moaned louder, thumping his hand up and down his shaft with a speed rivaling the packaging machines. His erection was extremely hard, spurred on by the knowledge that he would be so fired if he was caught. On and on he went, for minutes on end, panting and writhing. It was particularly ironic considering the coconut flavored beverage circling around him like a fair ride for plastic bottles was dubbed 'Rise Up'. The mere thought brought a chortle to Callum's lips.

"My cock'll rise up." he muttered, grinning wide, "Just like the moon." he whispered. Slowly one eye opened, a brilliant and intense amber. The other soon followed. Callum looked up through the impossibly high window. It was summer and there was still light out, but the moon was rising. He could see it. Callum slowly added a second hand to his cock and worked it with both as he felt his blood boiling inside.

The hands working the hard cock began to throb, the heat getting to them. His fingernails darkened and began to soften, the keratin pushing out longer, honing into points and curving down. As it looked more menacing, it was also consumed, drawn down through his skin deeper into his fingers until they closed up on top. Callum's ears tingled and burned as they stretched into points and his lewd, leary grin exposed teeth elongating and sharpening into fangs.

Dark, curly, warm hair was emerging from all over the dropout's body. Spirals and swirls of hair covered his chest, spreading over his pectorals and creeping up his shoulders. His pit hair thickened, and soon even his back was getting a dusting. Callum's stubble elongated and thickened just as his nose began to crunch and pop and tilt, the nostrils rising up to the front as the flesh turned dark and rubbery.

A furry, shaggy brown tail began pushing out of the drop out's pants as his feet turned into furry, large wolf paws. The claws waggled in the air, but still Callum went at his cock. He felt it stretch and rise, the flesh getting pinker, the loose skin tightening as it tapered to a point and glistened in the light. The feel of masturbating at work was amazing, but the feel of becoming a werewolf at work while jacking off was even better.

Callum felt himself tip over the edge. He tipped his head back and let out a howl, his furry balls throbbing as his cock spasmed. Ropes of ivory wolf tainted semen arched out, splattering across the runs of bottles as they passed. A few potent drops splattered into the opened bottles, heading down the line toward the capping machine. The werewolf was panting hard and opened his eyes, too lost in the afterglow to even realize what he had just done.

****

Silence filled the locker room with such completeness that a pin dropping to the well worn cement floor would have seemed deafening. The wood benches surrounding the banks of rust red colored lockers were full of over hormonal teenagers dressed in sleek black basketball shorts and loose fitting burgundy red tank tops. Some of the students had short buzzed hair, a few had shaggy hair and one had a pony tail, but the students fitting down all shared one thing in common: they were perfect physical specimens. That unifying fact had only make Dylan's assertion more ludicrous. All eyes were on the young man standing up next to the coach.

"I don't think I heard you proper, son? What did you just say?" The coach murmured, his voice carrying a bit of a drawl. Dylan cleared his throat, and in the silence of the room that sound seemed as booming as a shotgun; he was a tall, lanky eighteen years-old, as skinny as a twig and with rectangular glasses shielding two watery, pale blue eyes right over the bridge of a heavily freckled nose. The nerdy young man took a small, slightly asthmatic breath, and repeated the exact same words as before.

"I want to try out for the football team." The words were uttered with determination, but the silence that had come before was fractured by riotous laughter. The jocks on the benches nearly fell off in their chortling, slapping each other on the backs in disbelief.

"Maybe we could use him to lull the other team into a false sense of security!" One of the jocks smirked.

"Dude, he couldn't even hold the playbook pages down in a strong wind!" Another shot back. The coach slowly ran a thumb around his waistband.

"I appreciate the thought, son, I really do... But what you got to realize is that this school is celebrating an unprecedented winning streak. Fourteen years strong. As coach, I am the holder of this record... and I can't do anything to jeopardize that. I have to make the calls I think will represent this school well." The coach said, looking at the young man, "Your determination is good though... Have you ever considered something like swimming?" Dylan lowered his eyes in shame, trying to shield his ears from the thunderous laughters with his mind.

"Y-yeah, but... Apparently you have to know how to swim for that," he murmured in an almost inaudible tone. Then he raised his head again, staring into the coach's eyes with every ounce of determination he still harbored in his body. "A-are you sure there's nothing I can do? I don't want to play, even being a benchwarmer would be great... I just... Want to be part of the team. Want to be part of something."

"Maybe you could be part of a pride parade." One of the students chided. The coach shot the jock a look that instantly silenced him.

"Appearances are important... We gotta keep a certain level up." The coach said, looking as if he was being particularly strained, "Right now you ain't got it... But if that changes... I might be able to reconsider," he said.

"Awww, c'mon coach, don't give the runt false hope!" A jock moaned. Despite that, though, a timid smile bloomed on Dylan's face; he still looked like he was going to burst into tears in a moment, but there was still a faint glimmer of hope in his eyes.

"O-okay!" he exclaimed. "I will show you that I can do it!" I will show all of you, he added mentally, even if of course he didn't dare to turn his face in the general direction of the team members. Then, without adding anything else, he turned around and marched out of the locker room. He barely managed to step outside the gym before tears started streaming down his face.

****

Still sniffling a bit, his cheeks flushed in silent fury, Dylan marched down Main Street. I will show them, he thought, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand. I will show those assholes that I can be like them... No, that I can be better than them. The scrawny nerd could be lacking in many things - strength, stamina, attractiveness, friends - but determination wasn't one of them: his own stubbornness had brought him to be at the top of his class, after all.

The sporting goods storefront was painted in bright, vivid colors - the same donned by the high school football team, Dylan couldn't help but noticing with a slight grimace - and the shop window housed a couple of mannequins dressed with shorts and t-shirts made out of stretchable, skin tight material. The two plastic men sported fit, athletic bodies and sets of perfectly sculpted six packs, and Dylan stared at them with envy for a second. They were cast in perfection with no need to work on it.

A slight rumbling accompanied the doors of the store opening, allowing the cool air inside to rush out as Dylan moved in. The inside of the shop was clean and had a somewhat alien odor, the same - Dylan realized after some seconds - that he had smelled countless times in the locker room of the high school gym, minus the acrid scent of sweat. Behind the counter a man in his late twenties or early thirties with tanned skin, bleached blond hair and steel earrings dangling from his lobes eyed him with suspicion; he was muscled, and his remarkable body was emphasized by the tight wife beater he was wearing. His face was covered with perfectly trimmed stubble that was several shades darker than his blond hair. Dylan realized that less than ten years earlier, that man had probably roamed down the corridors of the high school, shoving nerds like him inside lockers.

"Yes?" the clerk blurted out, staring at Dylan who was standing indecisively on the store threshold. "Do you need something?". The nerd jolted in surprise and let out a small squeak, before he managed to answer back.

"U-um..." he whispered, his pale, slender fingers fidgeting. "I... I want to start training. I want to become strong and..." And muscled and sexy like you and those jocks are, he said to himself, but barely managed not to blurt that out.

"So like... Yoga or something?" The clerk asked, looking Dylan over as if he was trying to determine how someone like him had even managed to come into the store. The nerd shook his head, his slightly greasy red hair bouncing against his ears.

"No, like... You know, football players. Something like that," he said, trying to sound as confident and macho as possible, with the expected results. The clerk seemed rather stunned at that, though his personal doubt was overshadowed by his work ethic. He gave a slight nod, glanced around the store to see if he'd be needed at the register any time soon and he moved out and around, approaching Dylan.

"Well... the first thing we'll need to do is get you more muscle mass. Regardless of what position you get, you need more muscle. We have a great selection of weights and resistance training equipment so you can start working on that, but the secret to muscle growth is how you give your body what it needs to make those muscles. Protein, electrolytes... Minerals and energy. You won't find a better selection of supplements than right here." The clerk said, leading Dylan toward the back of the store.

Set up on display was a rainbow colored wall of plastic bottles. Every color, every texture, every flavor and every brand. Each bottle claimed slightly different benefits and each was covered with words like 'immunity' and 'energy' and 'power'. Dylan looked up at the clerk: he had expected to be ridiculed, but the ex-jock was treating him with respect. Well, this is his job after all..., he considered, before looking at the countless energy drinks in front of him.

"What do you think would help, well... someone like me?" he said. No point sugarcoating the truth, and the clerk seemed ready to help after all.

"I've heard pretty good things about 'Rise Up', it comes in better flavors and has some of the higher levels of protein and stuff. Each person reacts differently though, so it's just about finding the right balance." The clerk said. Dylan grabbed a bottle: the liquid inside was white and swirled in the bottle as if it had a silky texture. It was almost hypnotic, in a way.

"Sounds good," he said. "I'd take this and probably a couple more," he handed two other random bottles to the clerk. "See what gives me the... um, most benefits." Dylan stared at the energy drink in his hands for a couple more seconds, before raising his eyes again. "So, um... What about that training equipment you mentioned?"

"It's right over this way." The clerk said, leading Dylan to their next purchase.

****

_Well, at least that was a training of sorts..._Dylan thought, his pale blue eyes fixed at the ceiling of his bedroom. He was lying on the bed, his forehead and armpits wet with sweat, his breathing fast and heavy. One of the things he had always been good at was following instructions, no matter how long or complicated, so setting up the training equipment - despite having been quite tiring - had been very simple... Before, of course, Dylan had realized that even if he had bought a very expensive set of weights and all that jazz, he had absolutely no idea of what to do with that.

_I should've probably asked the clerk..._he grumbled inside his head, his fingers clutched around a half-empty bottle of Rise Up. Even though he had wasted away his very first day of training, at least he had discovered something good: the energy drink was sweet and syrupy, with an intense flavor of coconut and a saltier, somewhat intense aftertaste that the nerd hadn't been able to identify, and it was indeed very good. Even though he had worked around his training equipment for an hour and a half and in normal circumstances he would have been exhausted, Dylan - despite being tired - was feeling quite galvanized.

"No wonder those football players drink so much of this stuff... It's great!" Dylan said with a tiny smile, before taking another sip from the bottle. With a groan, the boy left the comfort of his bed to slouch towards his desk. He turned on his laptop and started browsing through websites about fitness, powerlifting and diets, jumping from a link to the other. Before he had realized it, the two bottles of Rise Up he had bought at the store were gone, while outside the sky was getting darker, the day slowly but surely leaving the place to a cool, breezy dusk.

The air from the open window felt good on his hot skin. In fact, it felt marvelous. His temperature was rising far above normal. Dylan's heart pumped away, pushing fresh blood through his veins. It was almost as if he could see and hear and smell better than ever before. The young man grinned, showing canines that seemed a bit pointier than the usual.

"Mmh... This stuff seems to work wonders!" he exclaimed, staring at the empty Rise Up bottle. "I've never felt better!" His brow furrowed when he finally looked at the time in the right corner of his laptop screen: his parents were away for the whole week, so Dylan had lost track of the time. "I should probably get something for dinner..." he muttered, scratching the back of his hands... hands that for the first time in his life were hairy.

In feeling the foreign sensation right under his fingertips, Dylan froze and slowly lowered his eyes. Lifting his trembling hand in the growing darkness, the nerd stared at the red hair growing from his skin, already long and wiry albeit sparse. His expression got confused behind his glasses.

" A sudden... hormone burst?" he murmured, petting his new fur as if to ascertain that it was real. "That stuff is even more incredible than I would've thought!" Petting the unusual hand hair was abnormally stimulating, sending tingles through his body. His nipples grew firm and his manhood began to slowly extend in his pants like a sleepy snake. Shifting around in his chair, it soon became clear that there had been other changes. Dylan's usually baggy clothing was tighter across his torso, the fabric penning in his chest. With a half-confused, half-aroused moan, Dylan caressed his erect nipple, eliciting a shiver of delight, before cupping a small yet firm amount of muscles with his hand.

"Oh my God!" he exclaimed, his voice half an octave lower. "I got pecs!" Had the act of assembling the training equipment and chugging down the energy drink enough to kick his metabolism into overdrive? It seemed implausible, but that was also the only possible explanation to what was happening. With a grunt, Dylan took off his button-up shirt to take a closer look to the recent, unexpected developments of his body; his fingers went down to his pants, getting ready to take them off too, but the boy froze in the middle of the act: in the dark rectangle of sky outside the window, silent and yet exceptionally powerful... the full moon had just risen.

The subtle changes that had caught him surprised had been nothing compared to the transformation awakening in his body. Brilliant amber color spilled into his eyes, bringing with it a strange sensation of power to his mind. The world somehow suddenly felt smaller, easier, more within Dylan's grasp. The smooth transition to his eyes was coupled with a sudden, almost painful ache in both arms. His flesh tightened as his biceps and triceps began to visibly expand, pushing outward in every direction in a most unnatural way. Dylan's glowing irises were still staring at the moon, mesmerized; a wide grin appeared on his face, showing long, brilliant white fangs.

A sudden pop came, along with it a surprising lack of air. If Dylan crossed his eyes, he could see his nose changing. The slender slope was widening and bulking out, becoming more brutish. After a moment his septum reshaped and air flow returned, bringing along with it a far more vivid sense of smell. One of the nerd's hands - whose nails, slowly but surely, were getting darker and thicker - went up and gingerly touched the dark, damp triangle of sensitive flesh that had taken the place of his human nose, and his eyes went wide.

"N-no way..." he murmured. "Lycanthropy...?" The word came from a plethora of video games and movies, but it had never seemed real. How was that possible? He hadn't been bitten by any werewolf... Did werewolves actually exist? But then Dylan's dick throbbed inside his progressively tightening pants, and all the questions in his mind were swept away by the horniness and the bliss spreading around his whole body.

The fabric wrapped around his legs strained and stretched tight as if his thighs were expanding balloons. The stitching began digging into the fabric, unable to stretch as much. The pleasure was starting to be dwarfed by the pain of such mounting pressure, but relief came with a loud snap. The stitching down one side of his leg popped, pulling open, revealing an incredibly hairy leg. The stitches unraveled and the pants split until one meaty, furry leg was exposed. In mere moments it had more than doubled in thickness.

"F-fuck..." Dylan normally never used swear words, but it came out of his mouth so naturally this time he didn't even realize how strange that was. A long, flat tongue emerged from his elongating snout, lolling from the side, panting heavily in pleasure. His hands - stronger, wilder, their backs now covered in wispy red fur - grabbed the already ruined fabric of his pants and tried to rip it away completely, to expose the wonders growing underneath, to free his pulsing shaft from the ever constricting prison.

Without waiting for Dylan to catch up to one change, his body was already changing in other ways. His mouth went numb, his jaw going slack, drool leaking from the corners of his mouth as his lower jaw jutted forward. The fangs stuck out and it looked too lanky until the upper portion of his face extended to catch up. His mouth pushed outward and tapered steadily, forming a meaty canine muzzle. Curly wisps of red fur pushed out all over his cheeks, chin, upper lip and then slowly surrounded his eyes.

As sensation returned to Dylan's mouth, the world around him went silent... or nearly silent. He could hear muffled shifting, squishing, clicking. He felt his hair being ruffled as if something was moving through it... and then a new, alien weight began to build on the top of his head. Two furry pointed ears rose up from the top of his skull, opening up like blossoming flowers. As they matured and firmed up, the ear canals dipped down into his head and sounds came rushing back into Dylan's perception.

The growing nerd murred in pleasure, his hands still trying to rip away the pants while they twitched and jerked in pure ecstatic bliss. At that point, he didn't care what was causing the changes, why was he turning into a creature that was supposed to be nothing but a myth... It was a blessing and the best thing that had ever happened to him. He could hear the subtle whirring of his laptop as if it was the engine of a plane, he could smell the coating of dust over his bookshelves, he could see the world as clearly as if it was midday... He felt strong and horny and_awesome_.

A far louder tearing noise came as his shirt split out across a furry, muscled back. Dylan's upper torso had grown so much he was nearly top heavy. The hair thickened all over his body until the human flesh disappeared beneath. His ass cheeks pushed apart as his tailbone throbbed and began growing outward curling and fluffing out. Even his balls were growing and swelling, and with that came a surge of power and dominance, like anything could be his. He was a beast, an animal, a predator.

"Fuck yeah..." Dylan growled, his voice deep and sexy. His tongue darted outside his mouth once again, licking his canine lips; his glasses, now completely useless, fell from his snout and landed on the carpeted floor. He didn't feel like a human anymore; he was a wolf, a big badass wolf. With wonder and excitement, he stared at his hands as his black fingernails honed into points and became curved, deadly claws; his grin widened as he peeled the destroyed pants easily, then his underwear, finally exposing his cock in all its erect, throbbing glory.

What rose proudly above Dylan's groin was inhuman. At eighteen inches, the slick, glossy pink member tapered to a perfect point. The base had slight bulges on the side, looking capable of locking his member in any prospective mate... and it rose upwards so triumphantly above magnificent baseball sized furry balls. Dylan bent over with flexible ease and managed to give a long, lustful lick to the pointed tip of the canine dick; the taste the precum left on his tongue - salty, intense, musky - managed to penetrate the fog of horniness enough to make the werewolf realize something: it was the exact same aftertaste of the energy drink.

But again, the origin of his transformation wasn't important, in that moment... His shaft was rock-hard and ready, and Dylan knew. He knew he had to masturbate that sensitive tower of pink flesh.

His hands - no, his paws - wrapped around his dick and started pumping up and down; the urethra immediately sprayed a mouthful of dense, thick translucent pre as Dylan let out a joyous whimper: the leathery pads that had inflated on his fingertips stimulated his dick in a way he had never been thought possible. He was quite the expert in terms of masturbation, as a human - he had always been too shy to make a move, after all - but now just a simple touch was hundreds of times more intense.

As his body kept growing, muscles getting thicker, his abs surfacing, Dylan jacked off with abandon; he could feel his old self - so weak, so pathetic and introverted - getting eroded and pulverized with every movement of his paws. Now that he had the power - the strength, the speed, the stamina - he needed a fitting personality; he wasn't a nerdy loser anymore... now he was manly, virile, confident. In other words, he was an alpha.

The sensations his cock were giving him were profound and infectious, but while shy and simple Dylan might have been content with such... the new Dylan wanted more. He wanted to feel the wind in his fur, the ground beneath his paws. Dylan stumbled off of his bed and moved down the hallway of his house, leaving a trickle of precum behind, barely managing to get the door open before he fell down onto all fours and bounded out into the night.

****

Early mornings had an ephemeral quality to them that few were ever awake to see. Between pitch dark and sunrise the sky gave domain to colors no one expected - shades of brown and green and yellow, all before settling on the earliest pinks and blues. The light in the sky was still indistinct, vague and far away. The morning dew was at its heaviest, saturating the rough black asphalt of the parking lot. The cars glistened as they rested, soaked in the condensed humidity. The grass was soaked and wet... and so too was Dylan.

As consciousness slowly returned to him, Dylan felt the cold against his hands and knees. Mud and bits of grass clung to his naked feet. It was cold and wet, and yet strangely did not feel that miserable. It felt earthy, homey, comfortable. What didn't feel quite right was the general vague fuzz that filled up his brain. Dylan massaged his forehead with a hand, groaning.

"What... what the hell happened?" he murmured, his mouth dried up. His vision was still fuzzy, and he tried to stand up... As Dylan leaned back, he felt pressure on his half hard cock increase dramatically. As his fuzzy eyes adjusted, the reason became quickly apparent - his manhood was lodged deep inside the muscled, firm ass of another man... in a public parking lot... at the crack of dawn.

Beneath Dylan, the shop clerk moaned softly, drool still caking his cheeks, his fingers having dug into the mud. It had all taken him by surprise, but it had been the best start to a work day he'd had in his life. He was nearly catatonic in bliss, murmuring and panting. Dylan panted, looking at the sexy man he had mounted; his old self's mind would have probably been obliterated by the absurdity of the situation, by the fact that he had lost his virginity with a random guy in a parking lot and by the fact that both of them were stark ass naked... but then, the memories of the last night - albeit still a bit foggy and incomplete - flooded the young man's brain. Suddenly, he remembered everything: the change, the power, the shift in personality, the feeling of freedom, strength and horniness that had brought him to that very parking lot... He looked down at the shop clerk, who was still immobile, and a cheeky grin appeared on his face.

"Sorry, man," he growled in a resonant, virile voice. "Guess you're a wolf too, now..." Except, of course, he wasn't sorry at all. With a thrust of his sides he dislodged himself from the man's ass, leaving behind a gush of thick, stringy, yellow seed, and stood up, feeling the early morning breeze all over his body. When he turned around and caught his reflection in the clerk's car window, though, he literally froze on the spot.

The reflection looking back at him was beyond belief. Dylan stood at least six and a half feet tall, his red hair shaggier and longer down the middle of his head... and a thick, unruly Viking beard stretched down from his face, his mustache curling over his lips until they were hidden behind. Dylan's ears were still faintly pointed, and his chest was so hairy it was practically still fur. The freckles across his face and arms had darkened, giving him the skin tone of a sun worshipper, just like the pale blue of his eyes, that now shone of an intense, alluring azure.

Even his feet were still huge, broad and wide, acting as a fine foundation to his massive muscled body. And yet, despite him having shifted from a scrawny weakling of a nerd to a handsome, bearded young bodybuilder, there were still shards of the old Dylan sprinkled around: his wiry, unruly red hair, the shape of his mouth - even though his lips were now decidedly more plump and kissable - and the freckles spotting the bridge of his nose.

"Fuck yeah..." Dylan murmured, striking a pose, then another, basically worshipping his own reflection. "I'm one sexy motherfucker now..." He looked down at the moaning shop clerk, still lying in the muddy grass. Dylan's handsome face popped a smirk. "And it's all thanks to you, stud... Even though making you my first beta is reward enough, so don't get cocky."

"Oh, yes, of course... I promise I won't." The clerk said with reverence as he slowly pushed himself up, more wolf cum leaking out of his ass. He turned to kneel before Dylan, looking up at him with admiration, wanting to reach out and fondle the mighty behemoth that had changed his life so dramatically. He licked his lips a bit. "What are you going to do now?" the clerk asked curiously. Dylan stroked his own beard and shivered in pleasure: even now that he was back in human form, his face hair was still almost unbearably sensitive.

"Well..." he said, after he had managed to regain some composure; the act of caressing his beard had caused his dick to twitch and spray some more pre, something the clerk moved to quickly lap up. "Remember what I told you yesterday? I still want to try out for the football team. Show 'em who they rejected the first time."

"They'll be so shocked, they won't be able to believe how far you've risen..." The clerk murmured, humping against the soft, wet ground beneath him as he savored Dylan's precum. The former nerd let out a small growl.

"Of course they won't, but I'll make 'em change their mind. And maybe, if those assholes are obedient enough, I'll share my gift with some of 'em." His smile exposed his pointed canines, as his eyes shone gold for a split second. "After all, every alpha needs his pack, am I right?"

"You are so right... and such a good fuck. Thank you so much..." The clerk said, sighing happily as he looked up at the muscled, hairy god before him. Dylan had aspired to become more and had risen up to the challenge.