Lunacy

Story by Marcus Mooney on SoFurry

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In my personal headcanon, I sometimes see the furry fandom as a tribe of naked anthropomorphic animals dancing around a fire without a care in the world. The forest around us is thick, dark, and chaotic, but in this little clearing we make our own light, find our own peace. There are many furry tribes, all with different niches and interests, but above every forest shines the same pale moon, a bright reminder that our world isn’t so large. We dance to our own beat, and we sing in a language no one else knows. We’re fierce, we’re proud, we’re weird, we’re crazy, but most of all, we’re warm. When a lost soul comes to us in need of help, we let them in. We show them kindness and grace. We give them a place they can call home, if even just for a little while.

As I finish this latest chapter of my life, I find myself feeling more lost than ever. I FINALLY completed school and got my Computer Science degree (yay!), but I didn’t manage to get a job offer in my field during my studies like half the other students. So now I’m in this weird transitionary period of stagnation where I have qualifications but nowhere to apply them. And until I do, I have no purpose.

But I’ve felt like this before. It happened multiple times during my degree, where I was so stressed and overworked I felt ready to give up. But I didn’t give up because I always had the furry community keeping my passions alive. I love writing despite seldom having time for it. I love meeting cool and awesome people despite social anxiety keeping me cooped up in my room. Whenever I overcame those obstacles, it was because of people in this fandom. I’ve met a lot of cool people online through this fandom, including the love of my life, and I hope to meet many more. Maybe one day I’ll get the opportunity to attend a convention. There are other factors that kept me afloat, but it would be wrong not to give the fandom a LOT of the credit. Even now, writing this, you’re giving me the drive to keep going. I’ve felt like this before, and I’ll overcome it again.

So here’s to us. Thank you for all the support you’ve given me, consciously or not. Thank you for making this chaotic blue planet a little more habitable. And enjoy this love letter to the fandom. Cheers.

As usual, comments are welcome :)


Everything was fine before Cole Harding joined the company. Senior programmer Samuel Lawson was most dismayed when it was announced he’d be mentoring the new intern that fall. It was bad enough that Polygon, the world’s most popular ecommerce site, was in the middle of an important expansion putting the software development department into overdrive; this was no time to make changes to the team, no matter how small. The day Cole shook his paw, bright-eyed and enthusiastic about a thrilling learning experience, Samuel knew the rest of the season was going to be hell.

Fresh out of college, Cole Harding didn’t have a bitter bone in his body. Stereotypes aside, the German Shepherd approached every obstacle with the vigor of a wired puppy. The office is having a slow morning? One pot of coffee, coming up! Falling behind in a coding sprint? Keep at it, we’ll get there! The website crashed for the hundredth time after weeks of nonstop work? Nothing a set of fresh eyes can’t fix! Such steadfast optimism was unbearable. Not to mention his wardrobe desperately needed an upgrade. His dress clothes always clung to his youthful muscles a little too much, toned biceps and firm buttocks rounding out the creases in the fabric.

Not that Samuel was jealous. As a gray wolf, his body developed a small amount of extra muscle naturally. He was no slouch in the gym either, sporting a lean, slender frame honed by an hour of cardio every day after work. His clothes fit fine, but he made sure to leave room for his body to breathe, effectively hiding his physique beneath the well-ironed attire. Humble but functional. Unlike Cole, he kept to himself, obeyed instructions without question, and enjoyed an introverted approach to corporate life. Come in, work work work, go home. Other people were a distraction, and he made that much clear during his mentorship over Cole. Stop trying to make friends, put your nose to the grindstone, and get the damn work done.

So imagine Samuel’s surprise when Cole invited him to a Halloween party one day after work. “This Saturday. All my friends and a few people from the office will be there,” Cole said, tongue hanging out as they both rode the elevator down to the parking garage. “You’ll love it. We’re doing burgers, so bring your appetite!”

Samuel said he’d think about it, but internally had already made up his mind. His plans that weekend were set in stone: lock himself in the apartment and try to make some progress on the sci-fi novel he’d been writing since February. It wasn’t until he entered the local gym for his daily workout that he gave it another thought. He was 33 and hadn’t been to a party since high school (did senior prom count?). Loneliness was a state of comfort after all these years, but in scenarios like these, Samuel felt the lure of companionship he so craved whenever the opportunity presented itself. Parties made him nervous, but even he couldn’t bear to disappoint Cole so completely after the two months they’d worked together. This was probably the intern’s way of thanking Samuel for being such a good mentor. And if people from the office were going too, what was the harm?

After much deliberation, Samuel found himself knocking on the door of 310 Tick Avenue, wearing a nice pair of blue jeans and a Lord of the Rings t-shirt underneath a light jacket adorned with a menagerie of pins. Shivering in the cold and trying to keep his heart rate down, he had a moment to push his glasses up his muzzle before the door swung open. As expected, Cole Harding grinned past the threshold in that frustratingly adorable puppy dog fashion.

“You made it! Come on in!” slurred Cole past a pair of oversized plastic vampire teeth. His red devil horns glinted as he stepped aside for Samuel to enter. Typical. The dumb jock couldn’t even put together a cohesive costume.

The spacious living room was moderately crowded, a dozen scantily clad women in provocative costumes giggling around the television. Many of them nursed drinks, and Samuel was starkly reminded of the frat party he accidentally got invited to back in college. Cole led him into the kitchen, where a huge charcuterie board sat beside a tank of deep scarlet liquid littered with pineapple and strawberry slices.

“Jungle juice?” Cole offered, grabbing a solo cup.

“No thanks, I have to drive home.”

“I hear ya. Want a soda then?” The German Shepherd reached into a cooler and handed over a frosty red can. A sudden eruption of cheers and giggles from the living room caused Samuel to jump. Cole smirked apologetically. “A bunch of my sister’s friends. They got a head start on the drinks.”

“It’s alright,” Samuel recited blankly, downing a large, searing gulp of frigid cola. “Do you know them?”

“Not really, but they’re plenty good looking.” Cole gazed into the other room longingly. “If I wasn’t married…”

“You’re married?”

“Sure, the hubby’s outside with the other guys. Come meet them!”

“Oh…alright.”

Barely five minutes after walking through the door, Samuel already felt the pressure of being far out of his element. A half-hearted attempt to appease his apprentice quickly began to feel like a social excursion doomed to fail. Cole led him out to the backyard, where a group of men stood crowded around a pile of logs in a pit.

“Hey dudes, meet Sammy from work,” Cole announced, despite having never before referred to the wolf by that name. “This is Tank” – a burly Doberman raised a cup in greeting, his faux bloodstained butcher costume bowed out across a large belly – “Orville” – a lean wolfdog in a witch hat grunted with his focus on the plastic lighter he clicked at the base of the log pile – “and Kyle” – a chocolate Labrador waved cheerily, his smile stretched to the extreme by the red smear of his Joker outfit.

“I wondered where you ran off to,” Tank murmured, giving Cole a light peck on the lips. Grinning at Samuel, he added, “Hope you’re keeping him in check at the office. This pup needs a leash.”

“I am,” Samuel deadpanned, internally wincing at his awkwardness. Why did he say it like that? Quick, say something funny!

“Didn’t feel like wearing a costume?” remarked Kyle. “Don’t blame ya. I spent fifty bucks on this thing, and all it gets me is a couple compliments once every year.”

Tank sneered. “You should talk to Ally already. She’d totally dig it; you know she’s into all that Marvel crap.”

“The Joker is a DC villain,” said Samuel before he could stop himself. Four pairs of eyes turned to stare at him as the wolf’s cheeks burned.

“Meh, it’s all the same shit,” Tank shrugged. “My point is, you might finally get a chance to hit that.”

“Hey, that’s my sister you’re talking about!” Cole protested.

“Don’t act all offended. I did the same shit with you.” Tank punctuated his rebuttal with a hard slap to the German Shepherd’s ass, making him cough into his cup.

“Got it! We’ve got fire, boys!” Orville had finally gotten the tinder to light, the beginning of a flame flickering beneath the logs.

“Finally, I’m freezing!” Kyle rubbed his paws, inching closer to the firepit. “Someone mind bringing out a six pack? Let’s get this party started.”

Said party turned out to be Samuel’s personal hell. The four canines continued to chat around the fire, the conversation drifting from cute girls to sports to guns to popular rap artists – none of which Samuel knew anything about. He felt progressively more out of place by the minute, his nerves rising in a way he hadn’t encountered since college. This wasn’t him. He didn’t belong here. By the time the sun disappeared under the horizon and the bonfire roared at full strength, the wolf’s shivers returned for a reason the fire couldn’t fix.

And not only was he the only guest without a costume, it hadn’t escaped his notice that no one else from work had attended. Either he was the only one desperate to come to this stupid party, or Cole had lied.

Multiple attempts to butt into the conversation proved fruitless. Eventually, Samuel simply went back inside unnoticed. Unfortunately for him, more guests had arrived in his absence, and the house was now absolutely packed. Someone decided to liven up the party with some hard hitting hip-hop, and now dozens of costumed strangers danced about in drunken debauchery. Such chaos was impossible to navigate, and, unwilling to return to the suffocating awkwardness awaiting him by the fire, Samuel retreated to the front lawn only to find his car totally boxed in between the curb and three other vehicles.

No escape.

A reasonable person would have gone inside and politely asked people to move their cars so he could leave. But Samuel Lawson was a coward. His social battery depleted hours ago, his vision blurred with tears, the wolf wandered across the street to a gazebo in the middle of the cul-de-sac. Though heavy bass still pounded from the house, the still cold of night brought solace to his thoughts. There, sitting alone wiping his face, an obvious truth bubbled to the surface of his psyche.

He was stupid to think he could do this; to think he could be social and spend the night laughing with friends. He had no friends. As a kid, he’d always been introverted, and his parents told him he’d “grow out of it.” But he never did. He simply wasn’t built to socialize. Everyone he knew were coworkers he was forced to associate with or merely nameless constants in his daily routine. Since graduating from college, his entire existence had been dedicated to work, earning money to make ends meet. And now that he earned a six-figure salary, everything he did was to maintain that luxury. Work, work, work. Buy distractions to maintain his mental health so that he could keep working. The cruel cycle continues.

And the worst part? A small, stupid part of him had hoped to meet someone at this party he could take home. Pop culture made it look so easy, and even though Samuel knew it was bullshit, he’d let himself get excited. Stupid Samuel. Stupid Cole and his stupid husband.

“Yo Sammy! You alright?”

Speak of the devil.

“I’m fine. Just needed some air.”

A heavy weight settled on the bench beside him. “Is the party too much? Don’t blame ya. Cole likes to go all out with these things.”

The mention of Cole made Samuel see red. “Did you know all those people would come? Who even are they? And how come no one else from the office showed up?”

Tank winced, nervously rubbing an arm. “Oh. Noticed that, did ya?”

“He didn’t invite anyone else from the office, did he? Was this a set up? A dumb scheme to embarrass me? I’m tired of young people like him, no respect for his elders, always doing the stupidest shit to –” Samuel’s voice broke, and just like that, the tears were back.

“Woah! Hey dude, take it easy.” Tank wrapped a burly arm around the wolf’s shoulder, pulling him into a sideways hug. Though it felt strange, Samuel let him do it. “It wasn’t like that, I promise. He totally respects you; he wanted to do something nice.”

Samuel swallowed, forcing the sobs down into his chest. How embarrassing, to cry so violently in front of a total stranger.

“Listen, I’ll go tell the folks to move their cars so you can leave. Sit tight, okay?”

“No!” Samuel gripped the Doberman’s paw where it threatened to leave his shoulder. “I’ll be fine, just give me a minute.”

They fell silent for a few moments, during which Samuel wiped his face, feeling more and more uncomfortable in the Doberman’s embrace. He eventually wiggled out of it and cleared his throat. “Sorry about that. Go back inside, I’ll be in soon.”

Tank didn’t move. A worried frown creased his features. “What did you mean about Cole having no respect for his elders? I mean, you’re like, thirty, right? You’re in your prime.” His last remark was accompanied by a casual laugh.

The laugh revived a pang of irritation within Samuel. “Thirty-three. And I’m still his mentor. There are certain expectations in that kind of relationship.”

“Like what?”

Samuel considered going back on his word. This was Cole’s husband. Being too harsh could put a strain on their relationship or make him lose the Doberman’s favor completely. But then he remembered he had no friends. Nothing he said could hurt him.

“For one, he’s way too animated and energetic. He’s so scatterbrained sometimes it takes a half hour to get him to focus on one task. That kind of energy is detrimental to our workflow.”

Unconvincingly, Tank muttered, “I can see how that might be annoying…”

“Also, he constantly tries to correct me when I’m giving him instructions. For example, just last week, I was showing him how to set up a remote connection to our dummy web server. It’s a complicated process. But Cole pipes up and suggests writing a script for it instead to make it less complicated. So I had to explain that no, that violates our security protocol, and that the company’s been doing it this way for years. It makes no sense to change it. I’ve worked for Polygon for a decade; he just graduated. He has no right to question my way of doing things.”

“I mean, that’s hardly…”

“Not to mention his constant flirting,” Samuel said pointedly, shooting Tank a meaningful look. “Have you seen what he wears to work? He’s always wearing these super tight shirts and chatting up the male coworkers during lunch. I don’t know what sort of shenanigans they allow in classrooms nowadays, but in the office, we have actual work to do.”

“Okay, now you just sound pretentious. Relax a bit.” Tank prattled on before Samuel could interject. “You know what I do for Cole when he has a bad day? I give him a little massage, always does the trick. What do you say?”

“I’m not into you,” Samuel blurted with narrowed eyes. “And you’re married.”

“That’s fine, and I know,” Tank said, a soft smile curling across his thick muzzle. “You’re tense as hell, and I’m offering to help. Nothing lewd. Plus, I’ve got some thoughts after your whole rant.”

Samuel reserved some suspicion for any ulterior motives the Doberman might have but ultimately found himself caring very little. He was tired, and the night’s chill had begun to seep through his clothes and penetrate his fur. “Sure, why not?”

“Sweet! Here, turn around and lean back.”

Samuel did as he was told, swinging a leg over the bench to straddle it and lying back against the Doberman’s thick belly, his head resting against a wide, firm chest. Already the big dog’s warmth brought relief from the frigid air. Strong fingers pressed into his shoulder blades through his jacket, and the knots in those muscles instantly relaxed.

“I think you misunderstand Cole’s enthusiasm,” Tank said, his warm breath lightly fluffing Samuel’s hair. “He likes to help out, always has. It’s why he studied programming in the first place. Technology’s huge right now, and probably will be for the rest of time, so what better way to make a lot of people’s lives a bit easier?”

“He doesn’t have to be so rude about it,” Samuel muttered.

“Is he rude? Or just annoying to you specifically? There’s a difference, you know.” Tank continued down to the wolf’s arms, hitting pressure points that made him melt into his embrace. “How about you? Why’d you go into IT?”

“The money, mostly,” Samuel admitted. “I didn’t have much independence, and my dad worked in the industry, so IT was the obvious choice.”

“Are you still struggling?”

“No, but I work hard.”

“What about your family?”

“They’re not around. What’s this got to do with Cole?” Samuel demanded, growing self-conscious about the direction in which the conversation was heading.

“Think about why you’re still doing what you do, man. Cole loves programming. He likes going to work. Do you like going to work?”

“I do it because it pays well. What’s wrong with that?” Samuel rolled his shoulders, prompting Tank’s paws to drift back up to massage them. “Not everyone’s lucky enough to know exactly what their dream job is and chase it straight out of high school. If Cole’s one of those people, good for him. I’m not.”

“That’s cool and all, but what about my question? Do you like going to work?”

“Sometimes, yeah.”

Tank fell silent then, focusing on the impromptu massage he was performing for the wolf. Samuel was happy to let the silence hang and enjoy the Doberman’s work. Tank clearly knew what he was doing; he could even charge if he wanted. Someone inside the house had turned off the music, leaving them with nothing but ambient crickets and soft breaths that came out in tiny clouds.

“Are you a therapist?”

Tank seemed surprised by the question, his kneading of the wolf’s sides faltering momentarily. “That obvious, huh?” he chuckled.

“You talk like one when you’re trying to make a point. Not a bad thing, just an observation.” Samuel arched his back, and the massaging paws obeyed, rolling a couple joints against the base of his spine. “Oof. I stand by what I said, though. There’s nothing wrong with chasing money. They always say ‘money doesn’t buy happiness,’ or whatever, but it sure as hell gets you a lot closer. To say otherwise is just…well, it’s lunacy.”

Another chuckle from Tank.

“What’s so funny?”

“You’ll find out soon.”

A sharp pain in his right ear made him jump to his feet and face Tank, who now wore a wry grin. “What the hell was that? Did you bite me?” Stroking the wound with two fingers, they come away bloody.

“Sit down, Sammy,” leered Tank, rising to his own full height. “We were just getting to know each other.”

“I’m not…I don’t…” Samuel’s world began to tilt, forcing him to grab the bench for support. His heart was suddenly beating double time. “What did you do to me?!”

Tank seized his shoulders and pulled him in, crushing him between a pair of beefy arms and a stocky torso. “Shh, relax. It’s alright. You’re gonna go to sleep for a bit, and then everything will be better. Let it happen, Sammy.”

“It’s Samuel!” For some reason, that was all his addled brain could muster. Samuel tried to push free from the big Doberman, but his muscles wouldn’t listen. A rush of energy made him want to run, to fight, to do _anything…_but his brain seemed incapable of making orders. In fact, his thoughts were getting foggier by the second. “Please…no…”

“It’s okay, Sammy. Go to sleep.” Tank lowered him to the ground as the wolf’s body went slack. Waves of pins and needles pricked his hyperactive nerves. The last thing Samuel remembered before his world turned to black was a pair of canine lips against his own and a warm tongue entering his muzzle.

…………………………………………………………………..

Where were his clothes? Why couldn’t he move? How did he end up in a forest?

This, along with a multitude of additional questions, fought for space in Samuel’s head while he tried to regain his bearings. The dim sunlight filtering through dense treetops, accompanied by the slight damp ground underneath his bare feet, told him it was dawn. The brain fog clouding his thoughts seemed more obstructive than mere morning disorientation, and his entire body felt wrong. In a strange dissociative moment, he found himself observing from outside, at a form that wasn’t quite his own. In an even scarier moment, he noticed thick ropes binding him to the tree trunk against which he sat, and he let out a panicked yell.

“Help!” he screamed into the forest. “Somebody help!”

“Shit, he’s awake!” A wide bulky form stepped into view. Tank. “Calm down, Sammy. You’re okay.”

“Get away from me!” Samuel thrashed within his bonds, the vague memory of being molested returning at the sight of the Doberman.

“Shh, Sammy. We’re not gonna hurt you. Let us explain.” Another figure stepped next to Tank. Cole, the big Doberman’s partner. Partner in crime, Samuel thought.

“Why should I even look at you after what you did to me?!” Samuel bellowed. “You – you –”

“Getting bitten drives people crazy after the magic starts traveling through their system,” said Tank, holding up his paws. “Transforming makes you hyperactive and super aggressive. I was giving you something to do that didn’t involve mass murder.”

Samuel could only stare. “What?”

Tank responded with a nod to Cole, who wordlessly took out his phone and held the screen in front of Samuel’s face. The phone’s camera displayed Samuel’s reflection, and what a sight it was. The wolf on the screen was naked and unrecognizable. Broad shoulders and cannonball biceps strained the ropes, which had to be double-looped to keep them in place. Thick pecs heaved over a flawless eight-pack of abs, and his legs were as thick as his waist had been before…whatever this was.

“We brought some spare clothes for you,” said Tank, procuring a bundle of clothes from a gym bag. “If you let us, we’ll untie you and explain what’s going on.”

Samuel swallowed and nodded. What else could he do?

Cole walked behind the tree to untie the rope, allowing Samuel to stand, bringing him level with Tank. Dusting off his butt, his paws met two brawny, rounded cheeks that definitely weren’t so built before. He took the clothes from Tank, a wide pair of basketball shorts and a tank top that somehow fit quite well. That feeling of dysmorphia returned tenfold.

“It’s called Lunacy,” said Cole, tossing the coil of rope next to the bag. “A magical gift passed down through canines since ancient times. At least that’s what the stories say. Something about Druids.”

Samuel frowned. They really thought he was an idiot. What sort of prank was this?

“It’s all true, we swear,” Tank insisted. “You’re all beefed up now, aren’t you? That’s how Lunacy works. It starts by giving you the body you want, and then it finishes with the mind.”

Samuel began backing away. “You’re trying to brainwash me?!”

“No, just…listen!” Tank, unexpectedly, took a step back, holding out an arm to block an increasingly more frustrated Cole. “I know how it sounds, but it isn’t like that. Lunacy isn’t a disease, or hypnosis, or any sort of tool meant to coerce you against your will. It just gives you little benefits that make life easier.”

Despite his trepidation, the word ‘benefits’ triggered a particularly selfish switch in his corporate brain. “What kind of benefits?”

“Lunacy makes you a little crazy, hence the name. You have to be a little crazy to make it in such a harsh, cold world,” Tank explained, visibly relaxing now it seemed Samuel wasn’t going to bolt. “And that’s the point. It gave Cole the smarts to get through college and snag a nice programming job. And it gave me the motivation to publish a book in my field. Before long, it’ll give you what you need too.”

“I don’t need anything,” snarled Samuel. “Not from the likes of you.”

“Do you think I don’t see the way you look at me?” Cole snapped, muzzle contorted in uncharacteristic contempt. His arms were crossed, fangs peeking from under curled lips. “Every time I offer my input at work, every time I open my mouth. It’s like you hate the possibility of me having a valuable or original thought. All that bitterness has to come from somewhere.”

Tank laid a heavy paw on his husband’s shoulder. “Cole…”

Cole jerked away from his touch. “No! I never wanted him bitten. A condescending prick like him doesn’t deserve it.”

“Everyone deserves a chance,” said Tank, shooting him a knowing look. “I gave you a chance, remember?”

“That’s different! I was damaged. He’s just…mean!”

“So were you.”

“Could you stop being a therapist for five minutes?”

“I’m just being honest,” said Tank, glancing at the wolf. “Which is exactly what our new friend needs. Sammy, can you tell us – honestly – what’s on your mind?”

“Forget it,” Samuel scoffed. “I want nothing to do with your weird werewolf cult. And for the last time, it’s Samuel.”

“It’s not a cult, it’s a support group,” Tank replied patiently. “We meet here in the woods, at night. Us Lunatics, we give each other company when we need it. Some people choose to stay, some go their own way. Do what you want, but I think it’s clear you need a support system.”

“Okay, for once I agree with Cole. Stop psychoanalyzing me.”

“I wasn’t psycho –”

“Besides, I don’t need friends. I’ve got a really nice job, decent health – well, I guess it’s more than decent now – and a hobby that’ll last me a lifetime. I’m fine on my own.”

“None of that has to change,” said Cole matter-of-factly. “You can still work at Polygon, go to the gym, whatever it is you do at home. Talk to your family even. When I got turned, Lunacy made me more confident in my career path and gave me the courage to reconnect with my dad. He wasn’t a fan of my sexuality, but with some work, we’ve managed to move past that.”

“Good for you,” Samuel glowered. “Mine’s dead.”

Even the birds seemed to go silent, the open woods suddenly seeming quite claustrophobic. Cole had just unearthed a truth Samuel had actively repressed over the last decade. Now that it was out in the open, Samuel felt something cold clutch his chest, almost squeezing his heart as it beat frantically in an attempt to escape. His face felt numb.

“Sammy…” Tank whispered, crestfallen. “I’m sorry…”

“My parents divorced while I was in high school,” Samuel heard himself say, the words practically tripping over one another as they spilled from his tongue. “And after college, my dad died in a car crash. With my mom on the other side of the country, I have no one. Not even my extended family talks to me anymore.”

“Sammy, we didn’t mean –”

“Stop calling me that!” Samuel snapped, fists clenched. “Stop telling me everything’s okay, that it’ll all work out with a group of friends and some mystery magic shit you can’t even explain, because it won’t. Just because you’re happy doesn’t mean it’s so easy for people who aren’t.”

“Just let us –”

“No. I’m done listening.” Samuel held out his paw. “Give me my phone and wallet. Then never talk to me again.”

Tank seemed to accept defeat. He reached into his bag and procured the requested items. Samuel snatched them away and stormed off through the trees. He didn’t truly know where he was, but somehow he knew he was going the right direction toward home. In all honesty, he didn’t care. He needed to be alone.

……………………………………………………………………..

Samuel returned home in a daze. He couldn’t explain how he’d sniffed his way back to the city proper and found the main road back to his apartment; it was nothing short of a miracle. The answer seemed obvious, but after recent events, he wasn’t the least bit willing to give Tank’s words any credit. In the meantime, he lumbered over the threshold of apartment 1003 – harshly bumping his head on the doorframe in the process – and made a beeline for the fridge. Grabbing a soda, he maneuvered his bulky form to the living room and collapsed on the couch. Ignoring the tortured squeals of the wood underneath, he flipped on the television to the scifi channel.

What a disaster. He’d give anything to erase the last twelve hours from his life, vowing never to step foot in a party again. In a sobering jolt of dread, he realized he’d have to endure Cole’s excruciating presence on Monday, now mingled with the subtext of the previous night. There was no escaping it, no matter how much he tried. Not to mention the German Shepherd and his husband now both knew certain damning details of his past…ugh.

What would his coworkers say? What would his boss say? Would they even recognize him now that he looked like a juiced up bodybuilder?

Oh God. What on Earth would he wear?

That harrowing thought sent him to his bedroom closet to rifle through his collection of pop culture t-shirts and work suits. All of which were definitely too small. Damn this Lunacy bullshit. Briefly, he wondered why he was suddenly so resigned to the idea of a magical pathogen altering his body and mind. Maybe the latter had already started to change. Didn’t make his transformation any less freaky though.

Speaking of…

Samuel caught his reflection in the full-length mirror fixed next to the door. Lumbering over to examine it closer, his broad shoulders didn’t even fit within the width of the frame. A thick neck supported a slightly wider head with an angular jaw. Clear, blue eyes blinked back at him – where were his glasses? Sliding down his reflection with perfect eyesight, he pulled off the borrowed tank top. His torso formed a shapely V with pecs and abs to die for. Past the contours of his hips, large quads forced the shorts to ride up. The enlarged bulge at his crotch was nothing to sneeze at either. And while staring at this absolutely drool-worthy man in the mirror, that bulge had begun to twitch beneath the soft fabric.

Entranced, Samuel lifted a paw to his chest, grasping a handful of thick pec meat. The muscle was so dense it didn’t even fit in his palm! His other paw examined the creases between his abs, those cobbled ridges tensing under his touch. He was more ripped than some of the bigger guys he ogled at the gym. His normal routine maintained a slim and fit figure. Never in his wildest dreams did he have a fraction of this definition. Mesmerized by his own reflection, his paw slipped under his waistband and grasped something hot and hard. Fuck.

He pulled down the shorts and kicked them aside, letting out his thick, throbbing rod. A squeeze sent a shiver up his spine, a strand of clear fluid drooling from the tip. Rolling his shoulders and pivoting on a foot, Samuel admired his manly physique from the side, following the heaving slopes of his pecs, down the alluring curve of his back, out to the thick bubbled cheeks which jutted out under his fluffy tail. That iron butt garnered an indulgent squeeze from a magnetized paw, the dense globe of his left glute refusing to budge under his grasp.

The big wolf growled, throwing back his head as his cock throbbed harder. He was almost there. Reluctantly, he peeled the paw from his rear to seize a palm-filling pectoral once again, dragging a claw over a dark nipple barely hidden under grey fur. Lightning shot straight from his chest to his cock, launching a rope of cum onto the carpet. He could only shudder while his cock let out its payload over another half dozen spasms. Flicking that nipple some more ensured the entire load made a mess of his carpet, before he finally sighed and collapsed onto his bed.

Samuel gripped his bedsheets while heat rose in his cheeks. Had he really jerked off to his own reflection? There was no longer any doubt in his mind; the Lunacy had gotten to work on his brain. It was only a matter of time before he was fully under its influence. And the worst thing was: he wasn’t entirely sure he hated the prospect.

……………………………………………………………………………

The strangest thing about his return to work on Monday was that no one seemed to care about, or even notice, his growth over the weekend. A trip to a big and tall shop had resolved his wardrobe problem, but thick muscles still bulged beneath the fabric of his well-fitted XXL dress shirt, his pants doing nothing to hide the enormity of his legs. Towering over his coworkers, he felt like a giant in a toy city, but the biggest reaction he got was an errant inquiry about which gym he used. Even Cole, while still his regular chatty self, barely spared him a glance during the progress meeting that morning, only speaking to him when directly addressed.

In hindsight, Cole’s aloofness was justified. The last time they’d met, Samuel had shouted at him and his husband, after contracting Lunacy from said husband. And now that the German Shepherd’s feelings about Samuel’s mentorship were out in the open, addressing it at work would only hinder the team’s productivity. That suited Samuel just fine. He was all too happy to push the weekend’s events behind him, burying himself in the familiarity of the corporate grind.

Getting back into the swing of things was surprisingly easy. Something felt different today. After conducting the meeting like a well-oiled machine, he returned robotically to his desk to finish a few miscellaneous tasks before getting to work on the database implementation for the new website. Never before had he drifted so seamlessly through a workday while the world around him became nought but background static. He tended to hyperfocus when immersed in his writing hobby, but this never happened at work. It was an odd but welcome phenomenon. Determined to capitalize, Samuel leaned into the feeling and ignored all distractions, grinding through what was sure to be the single most productive day of his career.

Knock knock.

_ _ Samuel blinked, looking up to the door of his cubicle. A large, smartly dressed panda stood there, grinning professionally. “Sorry to interrupt. I hoped to see you sooner.”

Samuel checked the clock on his computer. With a start, he realized it was half past four. He’d completely missed lunch, and it was nearly time to head home. “It’s alright, Eric. Just a little busy.”

“Got room for a bit more on your plate?” Without waiting for a response, Eric, his supervisor, dropped a thick folder onto the desk. “Axiom just approved our proposal for the nutrition app, so you’ll need to make some phone calls and get a collaboration going. If you could get me a team roster by the end of the week, that would be great.”

“Okay,” Samuel said automatically. “Anything else?”

“Yes. Debra got sick yesterday. She’s in the hospital, and it’s hard to tell if she’ll be continuing with us. So I need you to take the wheel of the GPS project she was leading.” Eric frowned almost sympathetically. Almost. “I know it’s a lot, but no one else puts out quality work quite like you do. I can count on you, right?”

“Of course. Don’t worry, I’ll get started on these right away.”

“You’re a lifesaver, Samuel. I owe ya.” Eric waved curtly. “Have a good night.”

Alone in the cubicle, the wolf’s brain began organizing a to-do list. It was far too late to make any important phone calls, so he’d have to do that first thing tomorrow morning. He knew absolutely nothing about this GPS project, nor who Debra was. He could ask around and figure that out quite easily – also a job for tomorrow. He also needed to meet the people already assigned to the project, perhaps arrange a meeting for tomorrow – no, Wednesday – afternoon and determine their roles, their progress thus far, and what still needed to be done. For now, he’d use the last half hour of the workday to finish up this database segment –

Why did he feel dizzy all of a sudden? Samuel shut his eyes, gripping the desk and taking a deep breath – or rather, he tried to. His chest felt ready to explode, and his lungs screamed for oxygen that was readily available. He was hyperventilating.

Samuel jumped out of his chair, knocking over a cup of pencils and crushing one under his boot. The wolf didn’t notice, shutting his door, locking it, and grabbing his water bottle and downing the rest of its contents. He then sank into the corner and buried his face in his paws, waiting for the panic attack to pass.

In a few minutes, his breathing was under control. Samuel blinked back tears he hadn’t realized were there. What happened? He never had panic attacks at work; never in his 11 years in the company. So what changed? Samuel looked down at himself, his large biceps bulging his sleeves impressively. The culprit was obvious: Lunacy. But Lunacy was supposed to give him what he wanted, right? He most certainly didn’t want panic attacks getting in the way of work. He wanted to buckle down and grind through the humongous workload that had just been dumped upon him. But if that was true, why did the thought of managing two projects on top of his current assignment make him want to tear out his fur and dash out the break room window?

Samuel gathered himself and returned to his desk. Hundreds of multicolored lines of code littered two of his three monitors, his email inbox populating the third. It all looked so alien to him now, despite obsessing over it in fine detail for the past several months. The Lunacy had flipped a switch in his brain, forcing him to look at it in a new light. Hours of hyperfocusing had ended in sudden panic, and now here he was. He’d never felt so…unmotivated to work on a project. He liked programming. Right? He’d been doing it since the beginning of college, when he’d jumped into a software engineering major despite not being the least bit prepared…

Oh.

The Lunacy-induced moment of clarity made him feel unbelievably stupid. Somewhere along the line, he’d convinced himself of a passion for computer science. The truth was his father worked in the industry, and he’s simply followed in his footsteps. His only hobby, creative writing, wasn’t particularly lucrative, and he’d refused to pursue it as a career for fear of losing that passion. Besides, if nothing caught his interest, it only made sense to chase the money, right? It made sense at the time.

But why did he feel worse every time he finished a big project or got promoted? Why did he feel so tired, overburdened…depressed?

Through glassy eyes, Samuel glanced at the threshold where his boss stood only minutes prior. He’d been miserable since his dad died, and it had only gotten worse the longer he buried his grief and loneliness under heaps of work. Eric, of course, had no idea what he was going through, but he did know Samuel wasn’t the type to say no. The panda had been capitalizing on that unwavering work ethic like every good boss would.

Samuel shut his eyes, making an effort to relax his muscles. He tolerated programming at best, but what he really liked was feeling useful. And he couldn’t do that if he broke down.

He knew what to do.

…………………………………………………………..

Despite the labyrinthine nature of the nighttime forest, it wasn’t hard to find the place where Tank and Cole had last spoken to him. Samuel wasn’t sure whether he’d find anyone at the supposed meeting place of “Lunatics,” as Tank had described it, but determination kept him going. He needed to see for himself. The hustle and bustle of city nightlife had faded the moment he found the treeline. Now, clad in simple jeans, a Star Wars t-shirt, and a dark hoodie, footsteps crunching through the forest, he felt strangely at peace. Like he belonged amid these towering oaks, prowling like a beast.

He heard it before he saw it. Rough, discordant voices bouncing in rhythm. A primordial chant in a foreign language. Then just ahead, a flickering golden flow. A huge bonfire in a clearing, across which dark silhouettes pranced in time with their tribal song. Somehow he knew this was the right place, and as Samuel approached, the scent of burning wood coaxed him closer into its warm aura like a soft embrace from nature herself.

In the clearing danced dozens of people around a roaring bonfire, their chants filling the night with their mirth. And they were naked. Buck naked. Men, women, and everything in between, flailing in all their glory, without a care in the world. The only similarity they all shared were their starkly canine features.

“Sammy! You made it!” Tank and Cole detached from the crowd to make their way towards him at the edge of the clearing. They were also naked, the Doberman’s big belly and the German Shepherd’s chiseled abs on full display. Samuel found that he didn’t mind.

“So this is what a Lunatic gathering looks like?” Samuel remarked. “Didn’t think it would be so…”

“Wild? I get what you mean,” grinned Tank, wrapping an arm around his husband’s shoulders. “Not too much for you, is it? We were hoping you’d stick around this time.”

“I think I’m good. No panic attacks for me tonight,” said Samuel. “Listen, I wanted to say I’m sorry for shouting at you when we talked last. The Lunacy made me realize I was going through a lot.”

Tank nodded in understanding but said nothing. Cole still appeared determined not to meet his eyes.

“I’m not happy. Haven’t been for a long time,” Samuel continued, recounting the explanation he’d gone over dozens of times in his head on his way here. “I thought keeping myself busy with work and making as much as I could would make it easier. Turns out if you climb the corporate ladder long enough, eventually you’re so high up it gets hard to breathe. So after talking to my boss, I’ve decided to quit.”

Tank looked surprised. “Bold choice.”

“I’m not quitting my field completely. More like pivoting,” Samuel shrugged. “I don’t mind programming, and I’m good at it. So I’ll look for something a little less intense. Maybe at a smaller company, maybe contractor work. Dunno yet, but I’ve got a few months to figure it out.”

Tank smiled. “Sounds like a plan. You should be proud. That’s a lot of progress to make in a short time.”

“To be fair, you helped quite a bit,” Samuel smirked. He looked at the other dog, who still remained silent. “Cole?”

Cole didn’t acknowledge him, continuing to stare off into the trees.

“Cole, I’m sorry. I know I’ve been a jerk to you, but I promise until my time is up at Polygon, I’ll do my best to teach you well. I’m still your mentor, right?”

The German Shepherd’s scowl loosened somewhat as he finally made eye contact. He looked hesitant. “You mean it?”

“Of course,” said Samuel. “Just because I’m bitter as shit doesn’t mean it should be your problem. You’re good at what you do. I just hope I didn’t ruin your own ambitions with my own crap.”

Cole peered at him for a moment more before allowing a grin to spread across his muzzle. “It takes more than that to crush my dreams, big guy. Just try to take me more seriously, yeah?”

“I will.”

“The moon’s out,” Tank cut in, gazing up at the sky. Peeking through the clouds was a waxing gibbous spilling pale grey light into the clearing.

“What’s the moon got to do with – oh!” Samuel’s inquiry was interrupted by a sudden change in the energy around the fire. The dancing canines, who had been edging closer to one another, bumping hips and rubbing elbows over the course of the conversation, now wrapped their arms around the nearest partner, making out viciously. Some of them fell to the ground, their bodies writhing in heightening lust. Now that they weren’t flailing as much, he recognized Orville and Kyle, the wolfdog and Labrador from the Halloween party, locked tight in a hedonistic embrace.

“It’s tradition to fuck under the moon,” Tank said with a wry grin. “Call it a team building exercise. Brings us together, y’know?”

“I…see,” said Samuel, unsure what to think. An orgy was the last thing he expected, but at the same time, that many bodies grinding together at once was quite hot.

“Not saying you have to join,” said Tank. “But we’d like you to stay, if you’re willing.”

“Nah, he’s too strait-laced for that,” Cole smirked, crossing his arms, accentuating the bulk of his arms and chest. “After running out on us at the Halloween party, he won’t stick around for this.”

Though the German Shepherd’s tone was playful, the words stung, igniting that spark of defiance he’d always held for his apprentice. The wolf’s lips curled into a fang-baring sneer. “Like hell. Come here, you little shit.”

Sammy pulled Cole into a face-melting kiss, roughly shoving his tongue into the dog’s muzzle. The German Shepherd gasped in surprise but quickly accepted the gesture, paws rubbing the wolf’s toned sides while reciprocating the impromptu tongue war. Sammy continued to maul the younger canine’s muzzle, squeezing one of his hardened biceps with one paw, grasping a firm buttcheek with the other. Tank mashed into him from behind, effectively making him the center of a delicious canine meat sandwich. The Doberman grinded against the wolf’s own rock hard bubble butt, his big musclegut nestled snugly in the small of his back.

The moans of the other Lunatics melted into the background of their own pleasure. Sammy felt the way Cole quivered like a pup under his ministrations. He also felt something change fundamentally in his brain, the debilitating complacency that had previously ruled his life blossoming into steadfast determination. Even in the throes of lust, he felt assured the Lunacy had finished its work. With this enlightened mindset, he knew he’d be okay.

With a wet ‘pop,’ Cole detached from the liplock and twisted his muzzle up to Sammy’s ear. “Let’s get you undressed, daddy.”

The moniker sent a shiver down his spine. Sammy offered no protest when Tank stripped the jacket from his shoulders while Cole peeled the tight t-shirt off his torso, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside. He undid his pants and stepped out of them before resuming his makeout session with the German Shepherd. All three of them were hard and leaking by this point, each thrust making them throb. Grinding together in nothing but their skin and fur, their pleasure only heightened further with every movement.

Sammy growled, turning Cole around and pushing him onto the ground. Below that wagging tail, the hunk’s rounded butt taunted him, no longer hidden behind the tight slacks he always wore at work. Sammy descended upon him in an instant, the soft earth below cushioning them both like a warm mattress. His cock slick with precum, he thrusted forward, spearing the German Shepherd’s ass with his full length, knot and all, both of them crying out in bliss.

This felt right. Canines in the forest, under the light of the moon with nothing but nature’s earthly gifts clouding their minds with organic bliss. He’d finally found what he wanted all his life. Freedom. Brotherhood. Companionship. A family. He was home.

Tank continued to hump from behind, down in his knees while reaching around to cup the wolf’s heaving pecs. “Fuck him, Sammy. Show him who’s boss.”

Sammy snarled, doubling his cadence with the effort of every muscle in his body, practically pounding the German Shepherd into the dirt. Cole moaned breathlessly, egging him on with cries for more. Sammy obliged, slamming down with everything he had. He felt the peak approaching and wanted to make the most of it. Tank must have felt it too, because his humping became more feverish, paws groping hungrily over the wolf’s pecs, chiseled abs, and sensitive nipples.

Like a switch flipped, the trio exploded all at once. Sammy rode it out as long as he could, relishing the pheromonal high while his mind reeled. When he came down, he realized he felt pleased by the whole experience. He felt no panic, no desire to flee. He was content.

“Fuck, didn’t know you had that in you,” muttered Cole, panting on his hands and knees. “Is this the guy I’ve been working with this whole time?”

“Don’t…get your hopes up,” Sammy growls between pants. “We’re not fucking at work.”

“Welcome to the Lunatics, Sammy,” Tank said, his voice the most level of the three. The Doberman circled around into their view, his cock still hard and throbbing. “I don’t know about you, but I could go for round two. You up for it?”

Sammy looked toward the fire, where the pack of canines continued to rut like no tomorrow. None of them seemed the least bit winded. He grinned, reaching under the Doberman’s belly to grab the stiff length. “The night’s still young.”