Werewolf: FM

Story by ForsetiFox on SoFurry

, , , , , , , , , , ,

I half-thought up a werewolf-esque fiction concept, with a bunch of erotic werewolf one-off short stories, but then work caught up, and I didn't follow up whatsoever. But I did write one werewolf short story, so I figured I might as well share that!


Chapter 1: FM

“That was just ‘Hold Me Baby Like a Hot Rod’ by the talented Earth Wedge, off of their ‘74 album Incantations, Good Libations. Absolutely stellar workmanship on the Gibson there by Wes Benington, and in fact, I feel a compulsion to follow it up with one of his instrumental works, ‘A Shift in the Woodcut,’ recorded after the band tragically broke up in ‘78. And following that, we’ll be dabbling with tunes from the current century with singer-songwriter Roberta Odhiambo’s ‘Moon Owned.’

But before these particular selections ring out into the cool night air, I’d once again like to remind the loup garous and vukodlaks out there about the Samhain by Moonlight festival tomorrow eve’. Now, no lycanthrope worth their salt would ever admit that they’ve never heard of WAWO: the premier FM radio station hosted by werewolves, for werewolves. But here at WAWO, we like to be thorough, and we want to make sure that none of you miss out on details concerning the most anticipated event of the decade. After all, it’s not every year that the full moon falls on a solstice.

As we’ve discussed for the past few weeks, the event will be held at Sylv’s Hollow; if you don’t know where that is, just ask the wolf that bit you. Festivities will be held from sunup to sundown, but do arrive a few hours early in order to prepare yourself for the transformation. Food and drink will be provided for, though bringing your own booze and smoke is never discouraged. The balefires will be lit, and a Wildjagd will be hosted at the stroke of midnight, though to those leaf-eating canines out there, there will be vegan and vegetarian options present. And to those lusty adult canines out there eager to find your passion on other avenues, the Bacchanal will begin at the stroke of the Wytching Hour. Admission will, naturally, be free of charge, so if I were you, listener, I’d certainly put this festival at the top of my priorities. Because believe me, you won’t want to miss this event.

But I’ve been rambling on a bit too long, and my raspy old voice is only ever half as pretty as a well-played guitar. So why don’t we get back to the music? Here’s ‘A Shift in the Woodcut,’ by Wes Benington.”

He never smoked when he had a visitor over, but all the same, I could see him reach for the pack of cigarettes that lay on his desk out of habit. His paw practically knocked the carton onto the floor before he caught himself. Instead, he took his stark, navy blue mug and sipped loudly on piping hot peppermint tea. The sounds of a solitary guitar, devoid of any backing instrumentation, played from the headset that hung around the back of his neck. It played loudly enough that I could make out each individual note from a few meters away.

“You ever listen to Earth Wedge?” asked Calhoun.

I shuffled nervously in the seat of a couch cushion, not really making any direct eye contact. “Nah, I mostly just listen to what’s on the radio.”

Calhoun chuckled. “If I’m not mistaken, Earth Wedge was just on the radio,”

I chuckled in return, though a noticeable fluster colored my voice in contrast. “Or- y’know, human radio. Pop and stuff.”

“Not much of a classic rock guy?”

“I’m sure I’d recognize some songs- Or-” That wasn’t the sort of answer that’d impress a disc jockey. “I really liked the song, it’s the, uh, it’s the sort of thing I could really get into when I get home.”

A small little exhale, masquerading as a laugh, escaped the DJ’s muzzle. “‘Fraid you’re gonna have a difficult time finding that particular band on the internet. The lead singer, Alastair Smith: fierce advocate against music streaming these days- out of concern that they’re robbing smaller musicians and all that. And he has the rights to all of Earth Wedge’s music, so he took it off of each and every streaming platform.” He took another sip of tea. “For better or worse.”

“I suppose that’s a good reason to- er, um, protest against that sort of thing.”

Calhoun operated an ameteur radio station from his home: a single-wide trailer nestled towards the top of some medium-sized mountain in the West Virginia Appalachians. Apparently, he always shifted shape before putting out his regularly-scheduled broadcasts. It was radio made by werewolves, for werewolves. I was led to assume that any human stumbling across the FM frequency would probably think that the broadcast was some sort of performance art.

I knew far too little about radio broadcasting to keep up a conversation with a disc jockey, the way that I’d hoped I’d be able to this evening, but I knew enough to recognize the sizable ham radio antennae that towered over the trailer. And I knew that Calhoun wasn’t as interested in the technical side of operating a radio antennae as much as he was interested in sharing his stories and sharing his taste in music with other werewolves. The wolf kept his home neat, despite the fact that it’d never lose the scent of tobacco, and his computer desk only took up a quarter of the trailer’s real estate, though the couch I was currently sitting in had to pull double-duty as a pull-out bed. Calhoun was in his early forties. I was a few years off from turning thirty.

“It’s better for everyone involved if you get physical copies of the music you really like, I always say- Budget permitting, of course.”

“Yeah, I always just use Spotify-” I nervously cast my gaze aside, breaking eye contact. “Though you’re right, maybe I should cancel it, or- I don’t know, look into getting vinyl-”

But Calhoun then removed his headset, stood up from his black, faux leather office chair and made his way across the room towards the red cloth couch to sit next to me. “Relax, kid. There’s not gonna be a test.”

“I know that.” The larger wolf’s warm body pressed against me as his rich, earthy canine musk washed over my palette. But all the same, I couldn’t help but squirm away, pressing myself into the seat of the couch instead. “I just- I really want to get into what you’re into. I don’t want to just- I don’t know, sound like a poser or something.”

Calhoun put his paws on my shoulders and started massaging them. I continued to shake like a leaf, even as his muscular paws did their diligent work easing the copious amount of tension that’d built up over the past hour. “Like I said, pup, there’s not gonna be a test. Even the simple act of asking to come over while I work warms my heart, you know that?” He continued to knead, and I tried as hard as I could to stop from shivering out of awkwardness. “Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong, pup?”

But it wasn’t the fact that Calhoun was one of the coolest werewolves I’d ever met. It wasn’t the fact that I was desperate to make a good impression, even though we’d already gone on a couple of dates. It wasn’t my total lack of music knowledge that caused this sudden awkwardness to well up inside of me, or the fact that Calhoun was the first werewolf I ever gotten into a relationship with.

I was worried about the festival tomorrow.

The sounds of a guitar solo increased in volume on the headset that sat on the table. Ever so slightly, I eased back into the strong werewolf’s talented paws. I closed my eyes, and felt my heartbeat start to speed up. A strange tingling sensation started in the palm of my hands, and the balls of my feet. “I don’t know, Cal- It’s embarrassing.”

“I’ll try my very best to reserve judgment.”

“Well- y’know, I’m not just gonna ask you to never judge me. We’ve only been dating for a few weeks.”

“Nevertheless…” The wolf’s hot breath blew on the back of my neck, causing me to shiver uncontrollably. And before I knew it, his gray-and-white furry muzzle maneuvered towards the side of my face, and the gentle consistent lapping of his canine tongue substituted for a traditional peck on the cheek. The wolf’s capability to so expertly influence the sensitive parts of my body caused me to cross my legs tightly and whine uncontrollably, but I didn’t move away. And I couldn’t help but notice my fingers and toes move against my will as well. Each digit clenched inwardly, and the tingling feeling shifted into a hot itchiness that started to spread up my arms and legs.

“It’s just- Well, you know I haven’t been at this for very long.”

Calhoun spoke in between tender strokes of his tongue. “That’s what you… told me… and I’m… entirely comfortable with… guiding you through this.”

A pressure started to build up in my ulna and radius, a vaguely uncomfortable stretching feeling that bordered on pain. The itchiness on my arms intensified as little gray hairs started to grow all over. I dreaded the next step; my legs taking on a digitigrade structure. “Cal, you’re making me change.” I remarked while fighting the urge to giggle afterwards.

“Is that a problem?”

And without deviating from past experiences, the shrinking of my tibia and fibula to make way for the stretching of the tarsals and metatarsals burned with an uncomfortable sensation. It wasn’t as though I was experiencing the pain of a broken leg, but the hot, dull agony was very tricky to get used to. Without even taking off my jeans, I could tell that soft canine fur was starting to grow all over my legs. My feet and hands were now fully-fledged paws, though I was eternally thankful that a werewolf’s forepaw phalanges differed from a normal wolf’s by maintaining some semblance of an opposable thumb, even though it was clumsy and awkward.

“Oh, no- not at all, it’s just- I guess I don’t have a lot of control.”

Calhoun started to tenderly wrap his arms around my torso, pulling me in for a side hug with his right elbow angled high. I could tell that he was attempting to hold me tightly in order to distract from the transformation pains, but it didn’t escape my notice that my nose was pointed directly at the shirtless werewolf’s pungent armpit.

“Well, it is practically almost a full moon.”

“Yeah, that’s, um…” My voice trailed off. The aching of my limbs had reached its zenith, and a similarly uncomfortable pulling had begun at the top of my spine, now that my arms were fully transformed. I lost the fight against the urge not to cry out in pain.

“It’s OK, kid. I’m right here. This is as bad as it gets, it only gets easier from here on out.”

I started to cling onto the much larger werewolf’s belly, not pulling so hard as to give the wolf a stomach cramp, but hard enough to distract from the hot surge of uncomfortable pressure now coursing throughout my entire body.

Calhoun continued with his affirmations. Years of practice as a disc jockey had helped him cultivate a silky, soothing voice. “I’m right here, Ash. You’re doing a great job.”

I forced my eyes shut and found myself almost relying on the wolf’s canine musk to drive my thoughts away from a new sensation; the stretching of my mouth and nose into a muzzle. My teeth themselves had begun to ache and stretch, changing into sharp fangs. My tongue had begun to cramp up and writhe uncontrollably, before flattening out. At least the pulling of my ears into a more pointed shape was a relatively painless part of the transformation. At this point, fur had grown into my entire upper body, and started to move up my neck.

“Say something, pup. Let me know you’re still in there.”

At this point, I’d gotten used to speaking with a canine muzzle. It was almost completely impossible to articulate my mouth and tongue to speak fluently the second time I underwent a transformation.

The first transformation had its own entirely different problems.

“I’m, uh, I’m still here, Cal. My mind’s still clear.”

“That’s good to hear, pup. You’re doing great. Are things starting to relax?”

Sure enough, the uncomfortable stretching had begun to die down all on its own, as though I had just taken a couple ibuprofen tablets. “Yeah, it hurts a lot less.”

The hair of my long, dirty blond ponytail began to shrink. My ponytail holder casually slipped in between the cushions of the couch. And instead, gray-and-white fur with touches of brown filled in each and every corner of my face; the typical coloration of a North American timberwolf.

The fur had made its way down my back and belly, and was catching up to where the fur grew in on my thigh. One last aching sensation shocked my body as my tailbone lengthened in size exponentially, growing into a full, bushy tail that crept into the couch cushions. Sitting on my backend didn’t allow my new tail much room to breathe.

Then, the final change started to unfold. I felt a stirring in my loins, and the feeling of a furry sheath wrapping around what I knew was now a canine’s knotted cock. Normally, I wouldn’t have immediately felt myself stiffening up upon such an excruciating transformation, but I couldn’t help myself while being immediately exposed to my werewolf lover’s earthy, sweaty armpit odor.

The loud guitar solo screeching from the headset had only gotten louder, despite the fact that song was drawing to a close. My sense of hearing was now more than twice as powerful.

Tragically, the werewolf next to me loosened his grasp and shifted his pits away from my nose. To make up for it, he repositioned himself so that he was once again in an ideal position to give me a massage. “Is there anything you need at all, Ash?”

“No- but, um, thank you. I think it’s all, um…” I waved my new paw around frantically, searching for the words, “fallen into place.”

“That was a fantastic transformation, pup. You’ve gotten very good at it, s’far as I can tell.” He once again kneaded at the sore muscles of my shoulders, now tense for an entirely different reason. With my new sense of hearing, I could hear the voice of a folk singer with a deep voice from the werewolf’s computer.

And with my new heightened sense of smell, I could still bask in the comforting scent of wolf sweat, even with my muzzle turned away.

“Um, Cal, do you need to prepare for the next song?”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. There are already two new songs in the queue.” He started massaging harder. “Do you want me to put it on the speaker?”

I giggled. “Funny enough, I can hear it from here like it was coming from a speaker.”

The disc jockey laughed, his hearty chest rumbling against my back. “Truth be told, I don’t think I’ve ever actually plugged those speakers in.” The rumbling receded in intensity. “You sure you’re good, Ash? I could get some water, or something to eat?”

I started mindlessly grazing through the fur of my arm with my new digits, still not used to the feeling of claws coming out of my hands instead of fingernails. I eased my body into the loving paws of my werewolf boyfriend. “This is all I need right now.” The lycanthrope beside me responded with a rumbling, yet loving growl as he continued his deep massage. I closed my eyes and reveled in the bliss.

But a small inkling of tension would remain until I finally got what was bothering me off of my chest.

“It’s, um- It’s really nice that I can transform like that and still be able to think straight.”

The disc jockey moved his paws to my shoulder blades as he started to work on my back. He spoke with a deep, wise voice, as though he finally cracked the code as to what was bothering me and wanted to reassure me that he understood. “You’re worried about the full moon tomorrow, hmm?”

I started mindlessly rubbing at the werewolf’s right thigh. It was good not to feel alone. “Yeah, a bit.” An image flashed in my mind: a visit to a hospital, and an old friend with more cast visible than skin.

“Well, you’ve had- what, four full moons now?”

“Yep. Tomorrow’s going to be my fifth.”

“If I can help ease your mind, everyone I know tells me that the full moon transformations never get as bad as the first couple times you transform in general. Sure, a little bit of the mania takes over, but all it takes is a bit of good company, and someone to watch your back, and you won’t just turn into a mindless animal completely.” Calhoun then started to gently lick my neck. “And hey, if you keep up with these willing transformations, it only gets easier to keep your mind intact when the unwilling ones come around. You did a remarkable job just now, Ash.”

A high-pitched, tender moan escaped my muzzle as my canine lover moved his delicate wolf kisses up to the base of my left ear. “Thanks, Cal. That means a lot to me.”

“And I’m not saying you gotta transform every night. But keep up like this, and sure enough, you’ll even start to get used to that aching feeling.”

I turned my gaze to the side. “I think I’m just… There’s going to be a lot of people at the festival tomorrow, and I- y’know, I feel like I’m going to be the newest werewolf there. I don’t wanna, um, go all feral and make a bad impression.”

“You’ve got nothing to worry about, pup. I’ll be there, the rest of my pack- our pack will be there. It’s like I said, all you need is good company.”

“You’ll make sure I don’t accidentally do something stupid?”

“I promise.”

I turned my muzzle towards his and smiled a wide, toothy smile. Calhoun’s massive tail started thumping against both the couch and the side of my hip. I leaned in slightly, and the other werewolf responded by pressing his muzzle into mine, invading my mouth with his tongue and licking the inside of my mouth. The normal suction feeling of human kissing stopped feeling romantic when compared to the primal impulse of licking the inside of someone’s mouth like a dog, and I gave in submissively while letting the larger werewolf give into his instincts to lick at mine. I held onto his upper torso with an unyielding grip, and Calhoun greeted that impulse with a similar strength. His hot, wet tongue danced on my own, and I swallowed his spit greedily the more we made out.

And there was no doubt about it. Practically every part of my red cock, save for the knot itself, had pushed out of its furry sheath. A messy stream of precum had visibly soaked through the fabric of my jeans, but Calhoun smelled the strain before he saw it, saying without even looking away from my eyes, “You’d be a lot more comfortable without those clothes, I imagine.”

“I’m kind of surprised they didn’t rip or anything.”

Cal traced his claws against my upper thigh. “I could help with that, if you’d like.”

The other werewolf wasn’t entirely naked himself, but only a plain, baggy pair of gray sweatpants adorned his entire body. He too, had a noticeable dark wet spot start to form where his pointy bulge pressed against the fabric.

“They do feel a bit tight. I think pulling them off might be a bit of a hassle.”

The sound of ripping fabric accompanied the singer-songwriter from across the room, and the cold tip of a blunt canine claw grazed my thigh, working its way from my knee towards my crotch. “Does that get you all hot and bothered? Letting an animal rip your clothes off like that?”

Once again, I couldn’t suppress the needy moan that fled from my lips as my furry thigh popped free from its denim confines. “I wish it was you who bit me. I’d let you take me, right then and there.”

Calhoun started his work on my other leg. “I’ll tell you what, pup. We’re gonna get you nice and nude, then we’re gonna keep making out, and just let those two songs keep playing. Then I’m gonna make an announcement for the public; something short. Then, I’m gonna put on Hyperspeed Quintet’s ‘Rigveda Sanskrit Hymns.’ It’s a nice prog-rock epic, goes for about thirty-five minutes… I usually last around thirty minutes when I tie with someone. Does that sound good to you?”

I couldn’t have nodded quicker.

Calhoun quickly moved his hand to my bulge and peeled the new flap of my ripped jeans down to expose my nearly-full erection. The savory, yet bitter musk of my own pre-cum hit my nasal palate, and I couldn’t help from lewdly groaning, just from the scent of my own arousal alone. Cal then yanked the bottom legs of my pants off completely, and with a passionate growl, he gripped at the front of my black-and-white striped t-shirt before pulling hard. A satisfying ripping sound accompanied the growling of the dominant wolf, and in a lustful rage, he proceeded to fulfill my fantasy by biting at my exposed neck. It wasn’t a hard enough bite to break the skin, but the sharp pain fired my synapses completely, and I whined like I was his caught prey, unable to articulate the words to beg for my freedom. He gripped hard on my hips, and forced his entire weight on top of me, continuing to growl like a proud animal who had just claimed his mate. His legs straddled my own thighs and hips; I was properly pinned by the stronger canine. And then, he finally eased up on the clamping of his jaw, and aimed his muzzle directly in front of mine to once again start making out. His bulge pressed against my own red rocket, and I began to worry that I’d start properly ejaculating before he so much as fingered my tailhole. He licked ravenously across every corner of my mouth, and even brought one of his paws directly beneath my muzzle to hold it in place.

The dominant werewolf’s kiss all but hypnotized me. His hot breath, and the moist taste of his tongue, were both like ambrosia to me. I would never feel a semblance of joy that paralleled to the feeling of letting this wolf climb on top of me and force his mouth onto mine. The mindless expression of passion caused my eyes to shut unto themselves; all for to let me focus entirely on the sensations of touch, taste, and smell. But every time I opened them, I withhold the look of a ravenous predator, utterly feasting upon the prey in which he conquered. The sounds of music faded from my consciousness, and even the visual details of the room faded away as I devoted the entirety of my being towards this lycanthrope’s kiss. To call it heaven would be an understatement.

And then: “I think it’s about time you started making out with something else, pup.” The werewolf lifted his muscular frame off of me, and crawled onto the other half of the couch, positioning himself on all-fours with his sweaty, furry ass aimed directly at me. His well-worn sweatpants were hardly putting up any resistance against the musky aromas trapped underneath. I licked my lips, anticipation coursing throughout my body like a palpable electrical current.

I gingerly leaned forward, unable to even grasp the utter boon I’d been blessed with. I stuck my tongue a few inches out from my muzzle, and slowly descended upon my lover’s musky hole. Calhoun knew how crazy the scent of canine musk made me, and took great care not to rush the experience, though he did casually tease, “I’m hardly gonna feel anything if you don’t dig in, pup.” I gulped hard, and forced my muzzle underneath his tail.

The lycanthrope’s ethereal swampy aroma captivated each and every taste bud on my tongue, and I tried to jam as much of it as deeply as I possibly could. I ignored the sudden cramping feeling, and struck out as though my tongue were a whip, desperate to rim the werewolf forcefully enough for him to feel it. A warm blanket of fur covered my eyes, and the wolf’s wagging tail swiped back-and-forth across the top of my head. I extended my tongue even further, and lapped up the taste of musky wolf ass as though it were oxygen itself, and I’d been held underwater for more than a minute. I felt my knot fully slip out of the sheath as though I myself had mated with a partner. I knew my own orgasm was only mere seconds away, and I did absolutely nothing to stop it from happening. Rimming this wolf was the utmost pleasure that I’d ever experienced, and I was fully intent on letting my body react to the heavenly experience the way it intended to react.

I felt the wolf’s hole start to open wider. Slowly yet surely, my muzzle slipped inside, incrementally penetrating the werewolf until my nose itself had gotten enveloped. It was true enough that the first scent that hit my nose was the smell of my own saliva, accumulating greedily the more I continued rimming, but the earthy undertones of the sweaty werewolf’s ass were still present enough to make me moan. All inhibition had left, and I basked in the musky feast that Calhoun graciously decided to treat my senses with. Even with the degree of force I jammed into the lycanthrope’s tailhole, Calhoun simply kept pushing backwards into me, eternally greedy for more. I wasn’t going to last much longer.

Until Calhoun jutted forward, pulling his ass away from my face. “I smell you, pup. You’re not going to cum until I’m balls deep inside of you, you hear that?”

Panting and practically incapable of seeing the objects around me as anything other than blurry shapes, I inarticulately mumbled, “Yes, sir.”

The other werewolf twisted, and moved to sit normally on the couch right beside me. His huge, meaty paw quickly grabbed my sheath, right below the knot. I gasped out; no matter what the dominant wolf ordered, I wasn’t going to stop myself from cumming if the the other canine was so insistent on grabbing such a sensitive spot,

“I’ve never had a partner come out of his sheath completely, just from rimming alone.” Calhoun’s cool, suave radio voice translated excellently when he used it for dirty talk. I was certain that the other wolf could feel the throbbing of my cock, and he kept a tight grip to make sure that I didn’t finish from a pawjob alone.

“You taste incredible, sir.”

“I’m glad that I fell for such a greedy little musk slut. I smell good, wouldn’t you say?”

“Yes, sir! I’m in love with your musk!” All pretense for apprehension had flown completely out the window. A new intrinsic, feral instinct formed at the core of my psyche; the desire to give into each and every thing that felt good. My tail tried to wag, despite being pinned to the couch by my weight.

“You’d marry my ass if we were at the altar, right, pup?”

“Yes, sir! I’d worship your ass, sir!”

“Hmm, ‘sir.’ I like that.” Calhoun snuck in another kiss while I was so thoroughly entranced. “I can smell my ass on your muzzle, pup. Smells good.”

I licked playfully at the shapeshifter’s muzzle. “You don’t know the half of it, sir.”

“You don’t think I get turned on by my own musk?” He opened up his own muzzle, and for a few seconds, the two of our tongues danced in a playful little waltz. “The smell of a fertile male in rut?”

“Are you in rut, sir?” It was a rhetorical question. The other man’s pheromones were quite palpable, swimming in the scent of his sweat.

“You’re gonna find out in a moment, pup. Start fingering yourself.”

Calhoun reluctantly pulled himself off of me, and meandered over towards the computer. I licked two of my fingers, and lifted my hips in order to give the other werewolf a show as I sunk the two digits into my eager tailhole. The canine disc jockey slipped his headset on once more, and spoke into the microphone attached to the side of the device. With my enhanced hearing, I could hear the song end abruptly as soon as Calhoun tapped at his computer. The wolf’s charismatic voice once again took over the airwaves.

“Op, sorry about that, folks. Technical difficulty on my end. That was just Agatha Wylde’s ‘In the Orchard,’ followed by the jazz standard, ‘Coal Train,’ by none other than Mr. John ‘Giant’ Step himself. Unfortunately, the talented Mr. G.S. has been cut short by a bad rip I made from the CD in my collection. I’d like to apologize for the inconvenience, and recommend that you check out the jazz giant on your own time. But, for now, I’d like to take you all back to 1971: the year that the legendary Hyperspeed Quintet composed their progressive rock opera, ‘Rigveda Sanskrit Hymns.’ I know, I know, you’ve all heard that disc jockeys play these long tunes to go and enjoy a nice smoke break. And truth be told… I’ve got another vice in mind. An absolutely stunning, gorgeous gentleman werewolf is sitting in on tonight’s broadcast, and it’s about time I paid him special attention. You can’t knock a wolf for that, listeners, especially if you were in the presence of this attractive gentleman yourselves. But do enjoy the song, folks. I’ll be right back.”

Calhoun placed the headset on his desk and stood up from his chair. “You’ll have to forgive an exhibitionist for showing off.”

A flirty giggle escaped my muzzle. “You think I’m attractive?”

“You put every other muse to shame, kid.”

I stood up from the couch and laid my body across one of its arms. My fully exposed ass found itself at the perfect height for Calhoun to fuck. This wasn’t the first time that the werewolf had knotted me, but the anticipation of that glorious everlasting tugging sensation caused shivers down my spine nonetheless. I teasingly wagged my hips as Calhoun dropped his sweatpants to the floor, showing off his mostly-erect cock. His grapefruit-sized knot still concealed itself inside of the canine’s sheath, but I knew I’d feel it before I’d see it. I could practically taste the scent of his leaking pre-cum from across the room.

The werewolf took his place behind me, and I kept my vision forward, savoring the moment before I let the canine gape me. He gripped my hips with a tight grip. But instead of sliding his slick member inside, Calhoun positioned his face right behind my tailhole, and returned the favor from earlier. A wet canine tongue attacked its prey without abandon, and I let out a pleasurable gasp as the wolf slicked up my hole for easier access. Calhoun even bit down on the fluffy hide surrounding my tail, giving into his predatory urge to clamp down on something with his teeth. As was the case before, the werewolf had at least enough mental wherewithal to stop himself from drawing blood, but the pressure of each bite still sent a searing sensation up towards my brain; a pain I registered as pleasure.

But Calhoun wasn’t content to rim me until I reached orgasm. He simply wanted to lube up my ass with his slobber. “You’re in heat, pup. I can taste it.”

“Please, sir… do it.”

And without responding verbally, Calhoun thrust the point of his canine cock directly into my tailhole. He was met with little resistance.

The shapeshifter uttered a growl like thunder. He forced the entire length of his shaft into me, all the way up to where his knot had started to expand. But even before one took Calhoun’s knot into the calculation, his rod was easily longer than a foot, and wide enough to put an actual eggplant to shame. This wasn’t my first experience with anal, and it wasn’t even the first time I’d let Calhoun fuck me, but I wasn’t nearly used to the white hot stretching sensation caused by the werewolf’s long, girthy cock. My muzzle opened up in order to make way for a pathetic, submissive moan, and I could feel my hole reflexively clench onto the other wolf’s member, unconsciously holding his shaft in place.

Calhoun was the first werewolf I’d ever made love to.

The lycanthrope held onto the tufts of fur on my ass with the strength of a vice, and without warning, he started fucking me properly. He started humping rapidly, only taking out his member halfway with each thrust. The girthy spear repeatedly slammed up against my prostate, but the wolf’s cock was able to penetrate far deeper. The speed at which Calhoun fucked me prevented me from clenching properly, and even if I wanted to squirm away to alleviate the dull pain of getting my ass stretched, Calhoun would just pull me right back onto his dick. Even though I now possessed far more strength than a mere human, Calhoun’s muscular prowess eclipsed my own.

All the while, the werewolf kept growling, too lost within his own animalistic lust to form words. His wet slobber flung itself from his muzzle, and his drool started pooling on my back. The perfect mix of pain and pleasure overwhelmed my synapses, and I cried out with my full voice. We were in the middle of nowhere; no one was going to hear me.

A steady stream of pre-cum leaked from my own member, and Calhoun fucked my hole with such speed and rigor that my leakage turned into a full on orgasm. He’d only fucked me for about fifteen seconds before I lost control. My cock flailed and throbbed against the side of the couch, completely staining it with cum the more that Calhoun’s rod pushed against my prostate and gaped my ring.

Then, Calhoun bit me. He moved his paws under my shoulders and lifted me into a standing position, all so that he could sink his teeth into my neck. I could feel the vibration of his growling as much as I heard it. The werewolf was not planning on taking his time.

His sheath gave way to his knot, and the bulbous ball forced itself into my abused hole. Calhoun bit harder; this time, I knew it was going to leave a mark. Even though I’d shot six or seven ropes of semen onto the cloth of the couch, the combination of being tied and being bitten with a mating bite caused me to shoot even harder. It almost felt as though I were wetting myself, but the pungent scent of wolf cum was impossible to ignore with my heightened sense of smell. I groaned and shivered, and Calhoun’s cock poured what felt like a liter’s worth of fluid into me. The wolf’s enormous knot broke down every ounce of resistance my sphincter tried to put up. A tiny brook of slippery cum trickled out of me, but the wolf’s throbbing cock replenished the source with far more cum than could leak out.

I was on the cusp of passing out, overwhelmed entirely with pain, passion, and sensory overload. Until finally, Calhoun stopped his mating bite.

The two of us were panting, sweating, and sticky with fluid. The air was awash with rich, musky scents of canine sex, and the floor was awash with pools of fluid that continuously poured from my leaky cock. The afterglow of an orgasm coaxed Calhoun towards a less feral mindset. I myself still submitted to my submissive nature as I continued to feel the wolf’s knot pulsing inside of me.

“I love you, Ash.”

Those four words caused me to shudder once more, and fighting through the constant panting, I responded, “I love you too, Cal- er, sir.”

Calhoun chuckled lovingly. “Both are fine by me, pup. Listen- I’m gonna lift you up in a second. It’s a bit hard to sit on the couch comfortably like this. How about we curl up on the floor?”

The carpet was made from a soft, light-green polyester material, though I could get comfortable on exposed concrete as long as Calhoun was holding onto me. “I’d like that a lot.”

“Ass-to-ass can feel nice and natural, but I always like spooning during a tie.” Calhoun then proceeded to lift me up from my hips with astonishing ease. His knot sank deeper inside of me, but it eased up on the pulling feeling against my poor, abused ring. I whined; the knot was large enough to press against my prostate. Waves of euphoria washed over me, and I wasn’t quite finished cumming, considering how much fluid was still pouring out onto my leg. Calhoun carried me over to the front of the couch and descended onto the floor, bringing me with him. Before long, the two of us were cuddling on the floor. The massive canine body behind me radiated warmth, and I found myself trying to match my breathing pattern to the other wolf’s slowing breath.

“Feeling comfortable, pup?”

I still couldn’t shake the echo of a moan from my voice. “This feels wonderful, sir.”

“You’ve got a lot less tension in your body, pup. I can tell. Nice to know I did a good job.” He sniffed loudly, right next to my ear. “Smells like I’m still doing a good job.”

I eased my body back into the tight, warm embrace of the werewolf behind me, closing my eyes. “I think I’m going to be leaky ‘til you pull out.”

“Then I’ll just have to keep myself inside as long as possible and milk you for everything you’ve got.”

“Thank you, sir. I’d like that a lot.”

“I’d like that a lot too, Ash.” The two of us basked in the aftermath of our sex while the sounds of a sitar emanated from the computer. The music found itself accompanied by the lycanthrope’s labored breathing and the cacophony of insects outside, and no orchestra in the world could have hoped to have performed a sweeter performance. We inhaled and exhaled as one, and I focused on the erotic feeling of the wolf’s cock continuously pumping me full of cum, seemingly without end. And then, after relishing the moment for an ample amount of time, Calhoun broke the silence. “You never told me: is ‘Ash’ a werewolf name, or is it short for ‘Asher’ or something?”

A blush formed underneath my fur. “Oh, no- um, Ash is my real name.”

“Gotcha, gotcha. Some wolves I know change their name after they get bit, and most of them name themselves after rocks and trees and such. I had to ask.”

“It’s, uh-” I decided to open up about this secret part of myself. “It’s actually short for Ashley. Apparently, my parents read somewhere that it can be a gender neutral name.”

Calhoun chuckled again. “Nah, I think I knew that. Hope you didn’t get bullied for it, though.”

“Oh, no. I started going by Ash before middle school.”

“Ahh, right on.”

We’d tied a few times before, so I’d gotten used to the urge to keep up casual conversation while still technically engaged in sex. Sometimes we cuddled in silence, savoring the feeling of each others’ bodies. But sometimes, it was nice to chat while waiting for the knot to deflate.

“Lemme ask something,” I started. “So for the festival tomorrow, there’s going to be, um, a full-on orgy, right?”

“The Bacchanal, yeah.”

“How exactly does that work out? I mean, once you finish inside of someone, you’re kind of out of commission for a while, right?”

Calhoun’s rumbling low, laughter vibrated against my body. “Never heard of foreplay before?”

I returned with my own sheepish laugh. “Oh yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“You do get a few wolves who give into their more feral nature pretty quick, though. They usually end up doing mouth stuff for a while. Lesbian wolves without any knotty bits do tend to outlast the rest of the pack, though.” The werewolf cock continued to throb, and I found myself shuddering once more as the wolf continued his dirty talk. “Why, you got an interest in trying it out, pup?”

“I- um, I mean, I was just curious-”

“I don’t mind one bit, pup. I’m comfortable if you like being open.” Calhoun proceeded to lovingly pet my thigh.

“I mean- if I’m up for it, or- Y’know, if the headspace is right, I might be a little curious.”

“Atta boy.” I could feel another clench. Another stream of semen stained the carpet around my cock. “It’s a shame I’m gonna need to be living vicariously through you. I’m grateful that Selene’s hired me as the master of ceremonies, don’t get me wrong… But your night’s gonna be a hell of a lot more fun than mine.”

Selene was the matriarch of one of the largest packs east of the Mississippi, and the organizer of the solstice festival for the past thirty years.

“Are you going to have any of the events free?”

“Yeah, some of the smaller things. But unfortunately not the Wildjagd or the Bacchanal.” My heart sank a little, but it was less out of a fear that I’d undergo these experiences without a guide I trusted, and more so that I genuinely sympathized that the wolf was missing out. Calhoun was quick to reassure me with another rub of my thigh. “By all means, though. Don’t let that stop you from enjoying yourself. That’s what’s most important for me.” I could feel him lean down and gently lick the top of my head.

“I’ll definitely try to.”

“The boys from the pack will take good care of you. They’re very excited to have you as a part of the festival.”

I could feel myself blush again. Even though we’d met and hunted a few times before, an entire public event was a different story. “What- me? I can’t be that exciting-”

“I strongly disagree, pup.”

And then, without warning, the music stopped once more.

Both of us shared a few seconds of shocked silence, until I gingerly hazarded a question. “Was that supposed to happen?”

“No, that’s- Damn, the song file might actually be bad for real this time.”

“Wait, does that mean-”

An intense pulling sensation set the nerves around my tailhole on fire. But Calhoun’s bulbous, throbbing member was nowhere near finished enough to pull out. If the knot were only a little smaller, I’d be a whiney canine with an entirely gaped hole.

“What do we do?” I continued asking.

Calhoun grabbed my shoulders and instructed, “We’re going to need to crawl over to the computer.”

“Wait, isn’t that going to pull a lot?”

“Trust me, pup. There’s no way I’m slipping out. Just keep clenching.”

I gulped hard, but I managed to strengthen my resolve as I relaxed my body. Calhoun took hold of my upper body, and shifted the both of our bodies so that we were both on all-fours. The larger werewolf’s muscular body threatened to crush my tiny frame, if it weren’t for the fact that most of his weight was on his paws and knees. Despite what Calhoun said, his knot pulled hard at my hole. I couldn’t suppress a meek little yelp from escaping.

“We’re going to start with the right arm and left leg. Just follow my lead.”

“Yes, sir.”

Slowly, yet methodically, we marched across the carpet towards the desk with the radio equipment. I tried as hard as I could to match Calhoun's pace and rhythm, but the wolf was taller than me, and there was nothing I could do to stop the throbbing knot from tugging at my hole as the other werewolf’s hips moved up and down my back. A slimy trail shined from the couch to the computer; the tugging sensation of the lycanthrope’s cock kept coaxing cum out of my sack. I whined the entire time, but Calhoun kept on in his pursuit to comfort me. “It’s alright, pup. Almost there. You’re doing great.”

But by the time we reached the desk, both of us realized that there would be no practical way to mount the computer chair. Calhoun took the initiative, and reached as far as he could to grab the headset and mouse. Against all odds, the werewolf’s knotted member threatened to pop out, without so much as shrinking down a millimeter in diameter. A few seconds felt like agonizing eternity as Calhoun forwent all abandon in order to reach his equipment. I tried to shift my body to ease up on the stretching, but the metal legs of the desk gave me little room for expansion. Calhoun managed to slide the mouse over towards our side, but by the time he’d reached the mouse, it was all over. All at once, I felt the bulb force its full mass against my poor ring. In less than a second, the dog dick shot like a bullet out of my tailhole. The long, girthy shaft followed suit, and slid with complete and utter ease out of the gaping hole. A liter of semen poured out afterward, leaving a dark, wet stain on the floor; I could still feel another liter’s worth of fluid sitting comfortably inside of me. Cum poured out onto my legs, and the excruciating pulling sensation left me a mute, shivering mess. I could feel Calhoun’s rob throbbing against my back, all the way from the base of my tail to the middle of my shoulder blades.

For a few seconds, I was completely stunned, wallowing in agony and ecstasy. Calhoun dropped what he was doing, and in a worrying voice, asked, “Shit! Ash, are you OK? I’m so-”

“It’s… I’m OK… Save the broadcast…”

“You’re a strong one, Ash.”

I collapsed onto my side and started rubbing uselessly at my hole. Without even fully realizing it, I fit my entire paw inside without any resistance. The air was filled with canine musk, and despite my heightened sense of smell, I could make out nothing else. With how much that Calhoun produced, I was completely surprised that the trailer at one point smelled like tobacco. His scent dominated everything else when fully unleashed. I’d been idly cumming for the past few minutes, but the pullout alone caused me to shoot another orgasm that doubled the volume of everything I’d already produced. And even then, I could only smell Calhoun’s rich, heavenly scent.

Somewhere in my dizzy haze, I heard the sound of a radio broadcaster suavely assuring his audience that everything was fine. “...won’t believe our luck this evening, folks, but it seems that my computer’s conspiring against me this evening. But worry not, listeners. We’ll get back to ‘Rigveda Sanskrit Hymns’ lickity split. Luckily, I’ve invested in more than just digital. In just one moment, I’m going to be breaking out the cassette. I do apologize for the half-minute of dead air.”

Everything was a blur. I watched the furry shape fuss about at the computer, performing tasks devoid of detail, until he meandered over to a shelf on the back wall where I vaguely remember my boyfriend kept his collection of cassettes, CD’s, and vinyl. Consciousness threatened to fade as pleasure commandeered my body entirely. My eyes closed all by themselves, and I could feel my muzzle curl up into a smile.

But then, I felt large, muscular paws grab my shoulder, and before I knew it, I was being held in the lap of a big, strong werewolf. “You with me, Ash?”

“I think… we should do that again sometime.”

I could feel something long and wet pulsating against my right buttcheek. “You sure you’re OK? That pullout was no joke.”

Lucidity slowly returned, and I felt a deep ache underneath my tail. “I’m totally fine, you sure you don’t want to, um… stick it back in?”

“Size queen.” Calhoun ruffled the fur on top of my head. “I’m afraid I’m too sensitive at the moment to fuck you again, but I do believe I’ll be ready to go in a few hours. In the meantime… how about you coax the little fella back into his sheath.”

“Little fella.” I repeated sarcastically. But before Aclhoun could sneak another quip into the conversation, I’d already twisted out of his laps and descended onto my belly, licking lovingly at the werewolf’s tip. The bitter, musky taste of his seed was spellbinding. I fought the urge to nuzzle the cock’s tip, knowing it’d be a bit overstimulating for the canine who’d just had an orgasm. Calhoun moaned, a low growl stuck at the bottom of his throat, as I continued to gently lap at his dick. I even started to lap up the fluid that had pooled a bit inside of his sheath, and though this caused the larger lycanthrope to tense up, he didn’t tell me to stop. The two of us shared blissful silence as I diligently licked my lover’s cock. The introduction to a prog rock song started to swell for the second time this evening. Calhoun started petting the top of my head again, and I moved my head up to lap at his shaft once more. My own canine tongue wrapped around the rod’s length with each lash, and I swallowed the flavor of his cum greedily as it continued to squirt out.

“Gods… I love you so much, Ash.”

I paused to respond. “I love you too, Cal.”

And even though I hadn’t yet eased his cock back into its sheath, I couldn’t fight the urge to climb onto my lover’s upper body and pull myself in for a hug. Calhoun didn’t contest, and returned with an even tighter one.

“I’m so lucky to have you as my mate.” I confided.

“That goes both ways, pup. I love you.”

I leaned up to look into the loving eyes of a werewolf, and the two of us shared a kiss.

No matter where my life had lead me, and no matter where my life would lead, I wouldn’t trade a single thing for this moment. Even if I couldn’t say for certain that we’d share such moments for the rest of our lives, nothing could compel me to forsake this night.

Life as a werewolf is hard and complicated, and an ocean of anxiety continued to press into me, even after having experienced it for half a year. But with Calhoun by my side, I felt fully prepared to dive in deeper.

Earlier that evening, I found myself afraid of the festival tomorrow night. Now, I only feared that my mate would be missing out on such a grand experience.

“...Up next, I’d like to begin Jazz Hour in full swing, but those tunes tend to skew a little on the long side, and we’d just spent the past half hour on a single song. So before we get into that tradition, I’d like to play