FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Disclaimer - Have you ever used the phrase "too much information" when pertaining to werewolves? If so, this story is most certainly not for you. What follows is a sordid tale of obsession, transformation, lovingly detailed descriptions of the lycanthropic form, and at least five wisecracks involving famous dogs. This one is a bit of a read, so if you wish to proceed, I recommend grabbing a beverage and hunkering down for the long haul. (This is a work of pornographic fiction. Please do not read if it would be illegal for you to do so.)

4 Werewolves + 1 "Journalist" = 5 Werewolves

_ The Pack? _

Name: Alan Brine

Age (stated): 34 [at least 60 . . .]

Height: 5' 11''

Eye Color: Brown

Hair Color: Black

Profession and lifestyle: "Entrepreneur" Never seen going into any kind of office. Volunteers for Habitat For Humanity [possibly a cover . . .] Most of his income seems to flow from older investments. Name's on record from before he was born. Makes at least enough to afford the old estate on Madrona Hill.

Name: Jason Selk

Age (stated): 25 [younger than others?]

Height: 5' 8''

Eye Color: Hazel

Hair Color: Light brown

Profession and lifestyle: "Data management specialist". Works full time with Cen-Tech. Spends very little time going out in the town, save when visiting the pack. Has most groceries delivered through pick up service.

Name: Branston Baker

Age (stated): 36

Height: 6' 2''

Eye color: Dark/brown

Hair color: Shaved head. Beard is reddish.

Profession and lifestyle: "Natural hardwood harvesting" Works by selectively cutting specific trees in remote areas for a posh clientele. Uses a 4-wheeler. Certified by state. Often leaves for more than two days at a time. Does wood working in the community shop open on 29thand Pine.

Name: Ken Aksel

Age: 29

Height 5' 10''

Eye color: Blue

Hair color: Blonde

Profession and lifestyle: Owns and manages "Mean Bean Coffee." Only has 2 other employees. Lives with Alan Brine on Madrona Hill. Often seen around town in the evenings. Seems to have connections with almost every bar owner in town.

Denver looked over his notes, sorting through the file he'd been collecting for months. This was going to be the biggest journalistic discovery of the twenty first century: Werewolves Living Amongst Us! He could see the title of the article already . . . And then he wouldn't need to be just another man with a camera chasing after the next celebrity nipple slip-up. No, he could be the man who changed the country, heck, even the world.

He flicked past the pictures he already had . . . The only true evidence was a blurry streak running out of the Madrona Hill house. It was a wolf. He knew it had to be. There had been four people who entered the house, and they didn't own any dogs. But Denver had missed the shot . . . Cursing under his breath, he continued to leaf through his files.

Most of his other pictures were very mundane. He had them at their day jobs, getting in and out of cars, and walking around the malls . . . But Ken was the only one that he had a real dossier on. It started out normal enough. Painting his fence wearing coveralls, and gardening while wearing a tight white tee-shirt and bluejeans. But the longer he had kept the place under surveillance, the more bizarre the suspected wolf's activities had become. The tanned man had started exercising outside in nothing but his briefs, even though he had a full gym inside on the second story of the old house. Ken also had taken to practicing the clarinet outside, his mouth lapping hungrily at the reed as he played some mangled Gershwin. The guy even threw a barbeque for himself in the nude. Denver's grayish eyes hung on the photo, one hand rubbing at his crotch through his pants . . .

No no. He shook himself out of it, closing the file. He wasn't going to let that impeccable body get in the way of his project . . . but it _ was _ a nice perk . . . All of the men he had pinned as wolves were quite well defined, but Ken was the only one that wore it with an almost embarrassing amount of pride. There had even been a day where the coffee shop owner had simply laid out in the sun, rubbing his naked tan-skinned body down with a copious amount of oil. He then just lounged there and . . . slowly stroked himself in the afternoon sun . . . Denver realized that he was doing the same again through the tough denim of his jeans.

The journalist shivered again. It wasn't like the guy had been in public or anything . . . but it made him wonder what the other members of the group did inside their apartments. Perhaps it was just a werewolf thing? They didn't seem that bad on the outside . . . but who knew what terrible things they did under the cover of the full moon?

He closed the file folder, taking a deep breath. After tonight, he'd finally have what he needed. He'd spent the last of his payday loan on a high shutter speed camera with a telescopic lens and low light capability. Now he knew exactly where they would be. All four of them had circled the date on their wall calenders in red: March 14, Sonoma Falls, 8 PM. It wasn't exactly the full moon, that was still three days off, but Denver had a feeling in his gut. This time he was going to get documented photographic evidence of _ something _.

* * *

They didn't even think to notice the inconspicuous Ford Impala driving behind them on the freeway. Denver was watching the group's SUV like a hawk, trying to glean anything through the tinted windows, but unable to really distinguish anything save for one event that could have been some kind of ritual power struggle . . . or a noogie. The trip took about four hours, and he started following them from further and further behind as they took to the country roads. Eventually he let them slip out of sight. He knew where they were going after all, and now he was the only other car on the road . . .

Even though the campground was officially open, no one wanted to come out here when the weather was still on the fritz. It looked like it was going to be a chilly night, but at least it would be dry: only one wispy patch of clouds in the distance. Denver parked his car a few hundred yards up from the exit into the campground, lugging his camera bag over the shoulder of his heavy padded jacket. Trudging into the pine forest, he went up a small rocky incline, managing to spot their white SUV in the parking lot. This was good, they had to be nearby. He scanned the forest around him, grin creeping up the side of his mouth as he saw the small telltale line of smoke rising up from closer to the river.

As quietly as he could, Denver moved down into the forest before rising up onto the next rocky hill. He squinted through his scope. This long range vantage point would be perfect, and no one would notice him with the few hundred feet of woods between them. Thankfully, they had stopped at the tent site, where there was quite a bit of open space that he could look down over. And so, he found a covert boulder to lean against, took out his thermos, and waited.

Sadly, this wasn't the occult ritual he was hoping for. Alan and Branston were fussing about with a barely smoldering fire. The bald flannel-clad woodsman seemed to be trying to show the more refined man in the oxford shirt something, but instead of listening, the man simply took another log and tossed it on the smoking heap despite Branston's protests. Meanwhile, Jason, the skinny one in a red Princeton sweatshirt, was wrestling with a large tent, slipping fiberglass poles through nylon supports with evident struggle. In the center of it all, Ken looked to be setting up a camp stove, wearing a tight white tank-top, lips pursed like he was whistling as he opened up a package of jumbo hotdogs.

Denver took a few shots, his new camera fairing well, even at the distance. The saturation made it look bland, but at least the image was clear. But they were just doing . . . normal camping things. He sighed, pouring a thermos lid of coffee as he settled in to surveillance. The younger man in the hoodie blushed near the color of his shirt as Branston came to help him with the tent. It was like he had never actually set one up before . . . The rest of them kept looking around oddly, fixedly examining pine cones, patches of sap, or interesting rocks as they milled about.

Eventually though, the camp was apparently to their satisfaction, and they sat around the fire as the light dimmed. Denver was going to switch to low-light, but the pictures seemed to be fine just using the light of their fire. He kept snapping the occasional pic as they sat before Ken leaned in and said something that made the others laugh and Jason blush as he stood up and made his way over to the tent, perhaps turning in for the night. Denver kept his eye on Ken, who was like a model for designer redneck shirts as he walked over to the grill, turning on the electric lamp, lifting up the lid and taking out a frankfurter, one side seared with dark grill marks.

Ken tossed the steaming hot sausage from hand to hand, not bothering with a bun before he held it in his fingers gingerly, the lamp putting him in the spotlight. The others watched him, Alan obviously trying not to laugh as Ken slowly brought the frank up to his pursed lips. One of the photographer's eyebrows raised as he watched the man slowly lick out, sliding his tongue against the tip of the processed meat in the most suggestive way imaginable. Denver's position against the rock became slightly less comfortable as his pants tightened. He was snapping pics in quick succession, focused on the strange activity.

Maybe it was some kind of werewolf ritual?

. . .

Probably not, but better document it just to be safe.

He swallowed heavily as the Scandinavian looking man took the tip of the sausage between his lips and suckled at it gently, bobbing his head down while Branston guffawed and slapped his knee. Denver just couldn't look away though, shifting his hips so that his tented jeans didn't grind against the stone in front of him. The tanned man's oral finesse was remarkable as he took the sausage deep into his mouth, cheeks twitching in the lewdest way possible.

Suddenly, there was a rustling in the bushed at the back of the camp site, and Denver cursed under his breath, leaning forwards again and wincing as he crushed his erection against himself. He could swear that he just saw something bolt out of the tent . . . and it hadn't been human. Denver focused through the view scope on his camera, but they were all just sitting there like nothing happened . . . in fact, Ken was now quite obviously licking up the side of the turgid frank. It made the journalist shudder, one hand going to reposition his erection as he kept staring through the lens. It was the most surreal thing as he watched the man he had followed so closely casually take the meat out of his mouth, wave it as he turned towards the camera, and then very theatrically bite the head off, chewing with a goofy grin.

What the hell . . . There was no way they could know he was here. He'd been so careful . . .

He swore that he could hear a faint rustling, and so he spun his head around, but didn't see anything . . . It was almost eerily silent. The reporter turned and scanned the other side of the hill, but it was just as empty as when he'd climbed up it earlier. It was probably just a squirrel. Shaking himself out of his paranoia, he moved back to his perch and checked through his camera, brow furrowing . . . they were gone. Scanning the campsite, he swallowed heavily, the fire was still there . . . but . . .

He'd missed them. This was his one chance and they had already run off into the night . . .

The sudden sound from behind him made all rational thoughts of what he had done turn to ice and melt down his spine. It was a low rumble that rose to a guttural snarl. Denver didn't even care that his camera bashed against the rock as he flipped around, seeing two golden eyes glowing in the twilight. The huge savage canine took a step forwards, its mixed brown coat twitching as it licked its lips in a way that made all of Denver's thoughts go back to his prehistoric instincts, where a fleshy thing like himself would do anything possible to avoid a creature with claws, fur, and decidedly lethal looking teeth.

He was throwing himself over the boulder before he knew what he was doing, hearing the wolf lunge behind him as he tumbled down the slope of the rocky outcropping, barely managing to keep himself upright. He could hear the beast's panting breaths as he ran in the only possible direction: away. The prickly boughs whipped against his face as he ran faster than he had in ages, lungs burning as his mind rang with terror.

He made it to flat ground, racing towards the river, hearing the monster plow through the underbrush behind him. Daring to take a look back He saw something bounding through the dim light before his entire forward momentum ceased in an instant as he crashed into a solid surface, skidding to the ground.

He shook his head, looking up as a grinning lupine face looked down at him. Denver scrabbled back, the blue eyes staring out from the black furred muzzle were oddly familiar . . .

"Hey there. We Ju . . ." The bipedal wolf began with an unusually chipper tone.

"Aaaaaaaagh! Stay back!" Denver flailed his way to his feet, turning in a circle but finding himself surrounded. Each of the four creatures was lupine, but to different degrees, two of them standing fully upright, with one hunched over, and one sitting on their haunches. The brown wolf from earlier thwapped his tail against the ground, pink tongue lolling out. The journalist pulled out his pepper spray, panic evident in his wheezing breaths "Get away from me. I'll use this. I swear!"

"Look, just relax." The blue-eyed werewolf put his padded fingers up, shrugging casually. "We just wanted to . . ."

"Aaaaaaagh!" Denver cracked the seal, shouting at the top of his lungs as the blue eyes widened and the wolf raised a paw as a burst of caustic mist exploded from the tiny canister.

"Oh! Fucking Jesus Christ." The werewolf flailed. "Titty fucking goddamn mother fucking . . ." He buried his face against his furry arm tears streaking his fur.

At exactly this moment, two strong arms wrapped under Denver's own and lifted him up off of his feet, the noxious canister clattering to the ground. "That wasn't called for in the least." The more bestial looking gray wolf's deep voice grumbled, muzzle pressed against the back of Denver's neck as the man continued to scream. "CUT IT OUT." The semi-feral wolf roared, Denver's body going immediately limp as he let out a whimper. "And Ken, watch your language."

The brown feral wolf huffed in seeming amusement as the black furred somewhat humanoid wolf pulled back his arm and blinked, tears and snot leaking against his fur.

And yet, the tirade continued: " . . . Son of an inebriated _ whore _, that stings." The black werewolf coughed.

The least lupine of the bunch walked up next to him, the only one of the group who walked on his heels even though he had a full furry coat of white with splotches of gray and brown and a fluffy tail, much like the rest. "Well shit . . . looks like the guy's passed out." He peered at the limp hanging man, reaching in to slap against the side of his face lightly.

"Well he's still breathing . . ." The gruff voice of the gray wolf holding him joined in. "I told you guys not to scare the poor man . . ."

"All I did was say hello!" The black wolf hissed in his breath through his running nose. "It was Wonder Dog over there that scared the shit out of him." The brown wolf growled in response, lips peeling back to reveal his fangs even though his tail batted happily against the ground.

"Well, I guess we just take him back to camp and wait for him to wake up then . . ." The white and slightly more human wolf shrugged.

"Fine." The black one replied, but I'm going to go wash this shit out of my eyes. Jesus Christ . . ."

"Language . . ." The older wolf rumbled, taking the journalist under one arm as he began to walk back towards their camp with an awkward heavy gait.

* * *

Denver woke up with a shout, sitting up from the picnic table he sat backwards on the bench of before a heavy padded paw clenched down over his mouth. "No." The burly gray beast that was apparently Branston looked down at him with his squinted golden eyes, huge paw wrapped around the man's face, holding his back against the edge of the table. "Now you get to listen." His gravelly voice rumbled.

"Damn right you do." The black wolf stood up from next to the fire. "Not that I've been pepper sprayed as a person before, but its gotta be like a class-A felony to do to a wolf . . ." He shook the still damp fur around his head. "Seriously, it's like there's a terrible Indian restaurant assaulting my nose whenever I breathe in . . ."

"Honestly, guys . . ." The white wolf shook his head as if overburdened, padding over on his relatively human shaped feet even though he had padded toes and dark curved claws. "Look, Mr. Cruikshank, we know that you've been spying on us for quite some time . . ." He sat down on the wooden table next to Denver. "At first we were worried that we were going to have to move to somewhere else . . . but you didn't put anything on the internet, and . . ."

"Wait." The terrified man interjected, struggling against the paw that held him. "How did you know? . . . P-please don't eat me!" His words were cut off into muffled noises as the more feral gray wolf clamped down with his heavy paw again, shaking his head in exasperation.

"You know, you should probably let the guy talk . . ." Alan, the white furred one looked up at Branston "This is probably weird enough for him as it is . . ."

Before the gray wolf could acquiesce, Ken interjected. "Thankfully, we have a computer specialist with us . . ." Ken pointed as they all looked to the brown wolf who lounged on the table. "When he's not role-playing as Lassie." The dirty brown coated wolf snorted and growled, making Denver struggle against the paw that held him. "What if we just told him to stay quiet or Kujo here was going to town on him?" Denver's eyes widened as the feral wolf looked towards him and licked its thin black lips theatrically.

"But we don't want to scare him . . . " The large muscular wolf-man hybrid holding him interjected, still not letting go of Denver's mouth.

Alan, the splotchy white coated one shrugged. "Well . . . we _ do _want to scare him a _ little _ bit . . ."

"Fine." The burly wolf holding Denver let him go, rolling his eyes. "But we don't mean you any harm . . ."

Denver made as if to stand from the bench and immediately the feral wolf rose to its paws on the table, snarling as it pressed its slavering muzzle near his neck. Sweating profusely, he slowly sat back down. "Look, just let me live. Please . . . I didn't mean anything . . . I was just . . ." He floundered as the panicked words rushed out, head jerking around and confronted only with oddly casual nightmares.

" . . . Trying to make the big scoop, right?" Alan chimed in. "Well we don't want that to happen. And our goal is to convince you it would be a bad idea for all of us."

"You know like, in the X Files, when they show them dissecting an alien in the background or something?" Ken wandered into the conversation. "We're pretty sure the same thing would happen to us. So staying out of the limelight is something very important to our little group."

The brown wolf huffed cynically from the table.

"Well . . . A _ little _ fame is nice every once in awhile." Ken finished with a blue eyed wink down at the journalist.

"I swear . . . I wouldn't tell a soul." Denver gulped, looking down towards the camera that was still dangling from his shoulder. The telephoto lens had shattered during his panicked escape . . . but he still had all of the photos on the card . . .

"You see, we don't quite believe you." The white wolf interjected. "Your record of lying about things in order to cover events is pretty unparalleled, even amongst the other paparazzi."

"Yeah, and it must be pretty hard to get dinged for ethics by a flock of vultures." Ken chimed in.

"But I . . ." Denver protested. Obviously they were exaggerating . . . That was just what you had to do to get a picture nowadays.

Ken reached forward and placed a padded finger on Denver's lips, shushing him even as he tried to pull back. "But despite your odd choice of careers, you don't seem like a completely terrible guy. You donate to charities, spend time in a community garden, and really know how to flatter a guy . . ."

"But . . ." Denver interjected, waiting for the blood-curdling snarl that didn't come and then swallowing before he continued. "How could you possibly of known that I was . . ." He was recalcitrant to expose all of his surveillance.

"Well, initially it was because we smelled you on that tree that you would climb up over the outside walls." Alan began.

"Smelled?"

"These aren't just for show you know?" Ken tapped the side of the brown wolf's muzzle before the beast took an angry snap at him. Denver almost made a run for it then and there, but the animal's golden eyes made it clear just how easily it could close those cruel fangs in his direction. "And some of us get perks even when we're not all fuzzy." He looked down towards the recalcitrant brown wolf, who did seem to preen slightly at the mention of his talents.

"Well, also, the fact that you kept coming back made it a little . . . obvious." The larger gray werewolf chimed in, hulking animal body sitting calmly as he explained, twiddling his heavy thumbs as if the next part of the story made him slightly uncomfortable.

"We had Pronto Pup here check if you were sticking anything up on the web." The black wolf chimed in cheerfully.

Denver watched as the bark colored shaggy canine on the table behind him rolled its eyes . . . it was just so hard to believe that it was a person, but he'd never seen a wolf act like that before . . .

"So we decided to see what you would do." Ken continued.

Denver shook his head. They were watching him the whole time he was keeping tabs on the group . . .

"I was surprised to see just how happy you were to see me." The defined black glossy one teased, taking a step forwards, black tail swishing behind him. "And so I decided to have a little fun with it . . . It's amazing how easy it is to hear someone jerking it while in an oak tree . . ." He pressed his furry body against Denver as the reporter looked down and his eyes widened.

He hadn't really taken the time to notice that all of the werewolves were no longer wearing any clothes . . . and as he looked down he saw a furry canine sheath nestled between Ken's legs, taut furry testes hanging below it. It was absolutely surreal, but he swore that he could see the plump fleshy tube pulse before he turned his head to the side, embarrassment wrestling with fear for control of his mind. He could smell them around him . . . a scent that was like pine cones, pepper spray, and wet dog, but somehow deeper and more engulfing . . .

"Right . . ." Alan butted in, clearing his throat. "Anyways. We wanted to let you know that we're actually pretty decent people."

"But you're . . . Werewolves." Denver protested. "Don't you eat the flesh of the innocent and make deals with the devil and . . . you know . . ."

"There's a little bit of the devil in all of us, I reckon." Branston leaned his heavy body forwards somewhat awkwardly. He looked like he would be more comfortable on all fours, but he stayed sitting on the faded wooden plank bench regardless. "Ours might be a little bit more obvious . . . but we're good people who are just figuring this out as we go . . ."

"But aren't you immortal? Haven't you been doing this for centuries!?" The journalist shouted, pulse thudding as the brown wolf/computer engineer behind him folded its ears back. How could they all just be sitting there like this was normal? This was all impossible.

"Well, probably not." Alan hazarded. "I'm the oldest of the bunch, and I'm 61." This was odd as he looked like he was in his thirties. Well actually, this was odd because he looked like a giant splotchy white wolf-man who was also conspicuously naked, but it did add to the pile of mysteries.

"How can you not . . .!" He was interrupted by a growl from behind, pausing before he continued in a hoarse whisper. "How can you not know!?" This didn't make any sense.

"Look, it's not like being a werewolf comes with an manual." Ken sat next to him, fur brushing against his side.

"Right. Well, we think we're doing alright. We don't really know if we are immortal or anything because as far as we can tell, most werewolves live for about two years . . ."

"Two years!? Then how are you all . . ."

He was silenced as Ken leaned his black muzzle in against his ear and huffed, "Let him finish . . ." Followed by a quick wet lap that felt more like an overenthusiastic dog than a person. It was so fast that Denver almost thought he imagined it, even though his ear felt the cooling spittle in the chilly night air.

"Again. We don't have like . . . some membership to a werewolf _ club _or anything. But it seems like most people kind of lose it . . . or just give up. They don't die of old age, they just get themselves killed." Alan explained. "Which is what we've been good at stopping ourselves from doing."

"Right." The older semi-feral wolf cleared his throat. "We have some ground rules. You need to stay involved in the community. You can't just secret yourself away. And we meet up around the full moon a few times a month . . ." He coughed awkwardly, looking down fixedly at the ground.

"But aren't you worried about accidentally killing people, or . . ." The brown wolf behind him snarled, raising its hackles in a way that perfectly communicated what it was thinking about killing people who kept interrupting.

"Yeah, that's why we do all of this stuff." Ken nodded. "Wolves are social animals. People are too. We think that's why a lot of werewolves end up going bonkers." He reached a toned black furred arm back and wrapped it around Denver's shoulders, pulling himself close even as the man tried to edge away. "That and the other thing . . ." He whispered again into the reporter's ear, cold nose causing the man's skin to tingle where it made contact.

"Uhh . . . yes . . . There's a . . ." The gray wolf on the other side of Denver paused, scratching his chin. The fur around his neck was prickling up in what looked almost like the lupine equivalent of a blush.

Denver wrinkled up his nose. He was sandwiched between the two wolves sitting next to him at the State Park picnic table. He didn't dare lean back because of Jason laying on the table behind him, and Alan stood in front of him. The rank smell of wet dog continued to permeate the air, but he was almost getting used to it at this point, the scent changing slightly every time he inhaled. "So what . . . Do you have some kind of ritual, or . . ." He couldn't help it. The journalist in him just felt like he needed answers.

"Well, sort of." The white wolf explained in his calm tone. "We think that one of the other problems comes from just the wolf side. It's like, anyone who changes is just automatically programmed to be the alpha, you know, the leader of the pack. This can make it difficult for more than one wolf to be in the same place."

"You all don't seem to have any problems with it." Denver interjected, shaking his head, trying to find a place to look where his eyes wouldn't be drawn towards a bared plump animal package.

"Well, we all have something in common that has helped us out . . ." The white wolf looked down, fur ruffling up slightly.

"Something that we share in common with you . . ." Ken rested a dark furred paw on Denver's leg, squeezing firmly. "We would also climb up a tree to jack it to a guy tanning in his back yard as well." He winked lewdly, licking a canine tongue over his loose animal chops.

There was some shifting discomfort amongst the other wolves before Alan spoke up. "What he means to say, is that we're all pretty gay."

The brown wolf looked up and wurfed from the table.

"Or at least bisexual." The white wolf added.

"So . . . what does that . . ." Denver knocked the paw off of his thigh and tried to pull back, startled as his back bumped into Branston's thickly furred barreled out chest.

"It seems to deal with the whole alpha thing." Alan responded, waving a paw vaguely. "We're not quite sure how it works . . ."

"But we're always willing to experiment." The black wolf raised his furry brows. "For _ science _."

"Wait . . . so you expect me to believe that a bunch of werewolves decided to stop being monsters by being . . . _ fags _." Denver shook his head. This was just a weird dream. Maybe he was hit in a head on collision while tailing them, and this was what he was seeing before the ambulance came . . .

"Not yet . . ." Ken turned towards him. "But seeing is believing . . ." The black wolf pressed forwards. Denver tried to lean back, but he was already pressed against the wall of furry muscle behind him. Those blue eyes stared into his own as Ken's tongue slid out across his cheek, sliding towards his mouth and then lapping up over his nose.

"Plugh." Denver spat raising his hands up as Ken's paws grasped around his fingers. "What do . . ." He was silenced as Ken leaned in, lapping into his mouth with his wide wet lupine tongue, pressing forward as his eyes beamed. The man tried to pull back, but there was nowhere to go, and he didn't dare bite down on the slippery tongue that ground against the insides of his open mouth.

"You see, we really like it here." Alan began, almost apologetically. "And since we weren't sure if we could trust you, we figured the best way for you to keep it a secret was if it was in your best interest . . ." He watched as Ken's tongue fluttered around in the man's mouth, Denver's face screwing up as the hot pink flesh scraped around inside of his jaws. The black leathery nose panted against him, and all he could smell was the air rife with fading acrid fumes and heightening animal musk all around him. "And so, to show you why a werewolf would want to avoid publicity . . . we decided to let you see things from our perspective."

Ken pulled back, pink tongue contrasting against his dark fur as he grinned.

"What do you mean . . . Are you going to bite me!?" Denver looked like he was about the start screaming again.

"What . . . No, no." The gray wolf behind him braced his heavy paws against the reporter's shoulders as his deep voice joined the others. "We're not here to hurt you just . . ." He stopped, swallowing as he looked for suitable words.

"Well, since you spent so long looking and imagining from a distance, we decided to give you a taste up close." Ken leaned in again. "You can't honestly say that you don't want a piece of this . . ." He ran a paw down his chest, tracing between his legs and giving his plump sheath a surreptitious squeeze.

Denver followed the paw, huffing in air as his lips began to darken slightly. "No . . . I didn't . . ." He shook his head, feeling confused as a strange heat built up inside of his chest. This was the same person as all of his photos from the file . . .

"Well . . . if you weren't so, uhh . . . enthusiastic, we wouldn't have considered this." Alan scratched the back of his snowy head. But you didn't seem like you would complain that much . . . And seriously, we love this town. It'd be a shame to leave it . . ." He stepped forwards tentatively and rested a paw on Denver's shoulder.

"He liked _ me _ at least . . ." Ken licked against his cheek lewdly. "He barely paid any attention to the rest of you." The black werewolf grinned, draping himself against the swooning man.

"I was just doing research . . ." Denver protested.

The brown wolf laying behind him huffed in amusement.

"Well . . ." The older semi-feral wolf paused behind him.

"Yeah, research on my Adonis-like body." Ken nuzzled in against Denver's neck, whiskers prickling against his shivering skin as the man awkwardly squirmed. "You came back like six times . . ."

Denver shook his head, trying to clear it of the strange feeling rising up within him. "So does this mean that you're not going to bite me?"

"Nope." Ken replied cheerily, pulling himself into Denver's lap. "At least not hard." He finished with a lewd wink.

"There's more than one way to uh . . ." Alan began

"Spread the love?" Ken interjected as the white wolf helped the man stand up from the bench, pulling him away from the cloying black beast.

"Right . . ." Alan continued. "Anyways . . . actually bites or wounds don't often change people unless they are right on the edge . . . like in a critical condition, and even then . . ." He paused, sighing as if remembering something he'd rather not. "But there _ are _other ways."

"Are you going to do some kind of spell . . ." Denver's mind spun as he stood up. He lurched forwards, reaching out and bracing himself against the white wolf, feeling the silky fur under his fingers as his nostrils flared, taking in more of that increasingly heady scent.

"Sure." Ken stepped in behind him, paw reaching around as he undid the man's belt with a finesse that suggested he'd done the action quite a few times before. "Let's go with that." He tugged down Denver's boxers as well.

The journalist blushed, trying to cover himself as the brown wolf leaped off the table, looking up at him with agate eyes reflecting in the moonlight. The crafty animal walked up to him, ducking down and walking between his legs, soft brushy tail dragging up against his exposed testes as Denver's half-hard member quivered and began to stiffen again while he blushed.

"Yeah . . . you probably want to take off your clothes." The white wolf bent down on a knee, wedging off Denver's shoes before yanking off his pants and drawers methodically. "They tend to get in the way . . ."

Denver considered kicking him and making a break for it, but thought better of it, trying to cover himself as Jason, the feral brown wolf, turned around, and began sniffing shamelessly in between his thighs, dark cold nose huffing warmth against his tender human flesh.

"Well, it looks like someone's already made a friend." Ken joked, walking in from behind the man as he desperately tried to cover himself and shoo the nosy wolf-with-programming-skills away. "Let's get you into something more comfortable . . ." He began methodically unbuttoning Denver's coat and shirt, wrestling them up over the man's head as the wolf below him lapped up against the human's scrotum in one long hot wet lap.

Denver looked around him, skin prickling as fur rubbed against his bare human form from all sides. "Wait, you don't mean that . . . You're not going to . . ." He tried to cover himself, but even as he protested, the sight of those plump animal sheathes spilled into his mind, the collective scent of the four werewolves enveloping his senses. It didn't smell much like wet dog at all anymore, instead slowly morphing into a dusky thick odor that made his heart pound . . . Well, except for Ken's head, which still smelled of wet and yet peppery dog . . .

"Just relax . . ." Alan walked up behind him, voice calming as his padded fingers gently squeezed against Denver's shoulders, plush white furred front brushing against the man's back.

"Yeah . . . You don't have to worry about balancing in a tree while you do it this time . . ." Ken quipped, tousling his hair as he leaned in, slippery warmth of his pink tongue scraping across the side of Denver's neck where it met his shoulders. He hung off of the man like a teasing fur coat.

"For what it's worth . . . You're going to like it." The larger gray werewolf stretched, digitgrade paws digging into the ground as he joined the rest of them, fur still puffed up slightly. Feeling something warm and soft brush against his side, Denver looked down to see the beast's heavy sheath jostle against him, pulsing as his black nostrils huffed in and a pointed pink prick poked from the top, glistening and marbled red.

Jason remained underneath, the feral wolf rubbing his muscular canine body against the reporter's legs like a giant house cat, tail raised and wagging, furry tip occasionally patting past Denver's erect member and tightening testes. The wily wolf bent his head back, black huffing nose butting against delicate white flesh before his tongue lashed out in quick animalistic strokes, tugging at Denver's scrotum even as the man tried to cover himself. But there was nowhere to escape to. There was soft fur, coaxing paws, and that rising heady aroma in every direction.

The reporter tried to gather his thoughts. Did this count as a ritual . . . Should he be taking notes. He thought about grabbing his camera, but it seemed so far away at the moment. It was hard to think over the percolating feeling rising up in his chest and washing out over his skin as they all brushed in around him. "What is this . . . feeling?" He moaned out.

"Just the beginning." Ken dragged his tongue up Denver's cheek, paws groping against his chest.

"Here. Let's get you off your feet." The white wolf behind him pulled him down, supporting him as his rump hit the ground and he lay his head back against Alan's warm furry belly. "It's a little different for everyone what your first time is like." His paws rubbed in at the reporter's ears as he spoke with a gentle voice. "We're going to make this something you'll never want to forget."

As his padded fingers kneaded and rubbed, Denver's lobes began to straighten out, whorls flattening as they were kneaded with padded thumbs. It was the strangest feeling as the man's ears began to twist, just quivering at first as fine muscles developed, his ears rising up and twitching, flattening, making the sounds around him all change in a way that reminded him of changing the focus on his camera in the strangest of ways. Velvety brown fur began to creep over the forming points, tingling as it prickled down, beginning to change his hair itself as it pulled back and took on a more smooth animal texture with blended gray and brown.

Ken knelt down with Denver, running a paw down his exposed chest. The man's eyes hung half-lidded as Alan's finger's massaged his scalp, claws combing through his thickening fur. The impish black wolf leaned in, licking up against the reporter's chin cutely. "Awww . . . I think he likes it." He teased, blue eyes manic as he walked two padded fingers up to one of Denver's exposed nipples. The man groaned as Ken pinched in, teasing the taut pink nubs, snuffling in and licking at the other as both fleshy nubs went taut in the cool night air.

"This isn't . . ." Denver writhed, bare feet scrabbling against the ground as the mischievous glossy black wolf nibbled and tweaked his nipples. Slowly, an undercoat of light dusty fuzz began to well out from around them, his skin twitching as it itched and prickled. His pert nipples became slightly less pronounced, but no less sensitive as they poked from the fuzz growing on his chest. The reporter groaned out as Ken slid down further against his chest, fingers pinching in, black nose huffing as his hot tongue lapped in ravenously, raising up another set of nubs, vestigial canine teats going taut as more sandy fur began to sprout in around them.

Further down, Branston leaned his hulking body over Denver. The gray wolf's nose huffed, taking in the rising passion from his pack and the confused man before him. It sang to his senses, bashful nature taking a back seat to passionate instincts as he leaned in, tongue lolling out while he buried his nose in the man's muff and inhaled deeply, tail wagging behind him as the man let out a wordless yipe at the cold and then warm contact.

The semi-feral wolf grasped in around Denver's hips with his massive paw-hands before letting his tongue slide out and flick along where the man's thighs met his hips. Branston's measured strokes gradually became sloppy and quick: more animal as he slathered the exposed flesh in affection. The massive werewolf's claws dimpled the man's flesh as his tongue ran up against his testes, pulling them up and then letting them pat down over and over again as they began to swell and churn, bulging tight against Denver's scrotum as it was slowly covered in downy dappled ashy brown fur that was immediately slicked down. The sloppy tongue rose up, coaxing the changes up the base of the writhing man's turgid shaft. He licked with loving hunger as the thin skin began to loosen, thickening into a furry light brown roll of flesh that he tugged this way and that as it formed into the beginning of a hefty canine sheath.

As Denver wriggled amidst the attention of the wolves, the completely lupine Jason snuffled around his feet, wiry whiskers tickling his soles followed by warm panting breath and then the lavishing attention of a canine tongue. Denver's toes clenched, his heels scraping back against the dusty ground as the brown wolf followed them, tongue sliding up in between his toes with its odd slippery strength. The man's toes tensed as they bulged, bones creaking as they began to spread out into broad paws. The sensation of the balls of his feet became more and more sensitive as they swelled out into dark brown leathery pads, brushy slate fur sprouting in around them.

The wriggling of his digits began to be more and more restrained as they pressed together, Jason's wolfish affection lapping over them as his toes pulled back, twisting backwards into the short nubs of dewclaws that pulled up his lengthening feet. As his big toes bulged, his nails twisted and condensed in, turning darker and thicker, curving out into blunt claws that rattled against the wolf's teeth as he nibbled at them playfully, coaxing them out further. The gray and brown damasked fur rose up towards his ankle as the joint began to strain, feet pushing out as his calves haltingly began to retreat back with creaking muscular surges that made Denver's entire body stretch and pull.

Denver's questions rolled around in his head as he moaned: how was this possible, how many others were there, what did they do on the actual full moon? But it was impossible to keep one thought in his mind as the pack all pushed in around him with increasingly amorous lupine affection. His breaths came in shallow ragged heaves, feeling of raw excitement building in his chest, replacing his fear with an inhuman enthusiasm that reminded him of what Christmas had felt like as a child. But his mind still rebelled, and he twisted away from the pleasure, confused groans echoing from his half-open mouth as he panted.

Alan cradled the man's head, heavy fingers massaging his scalp as his hair pulled back fully into dense fur, light brown with ashy streaks. The strong digits moved down over his cheeks, gripping his flesh and rubbing in small tense circles. Denver's jaws creaked open, his skull haltingly pressing forwards as his lips strained and darkened. The white wolf grinned, running a finger just inside of the man's open mouth, letting his dark claw trace along as the human's teeth began to shift, canines thickening into fangs while his incisors receded into diminutive teeth between them.

The reporter's cheeks burst into plumes of plush slate fur with hints of white, thickening as his face pressed out. The white wolf leaned in over him, grinning a goofy upside-down animal smile before lapping in against the man's nose, hands still massaging his forming snout as he licked and nibbled, coaxing the nostrils to pull up and darken, skin thickening, forming into a panting lupine nose as the man's eyes widened. All of the smells around him blazed into a musky cacophony in his mind, notes of leather and pepper mixing with various tones of deep animal richness that sang to his sharpening senses. Denver's tongue licked up feebly, lengthening and wrapping around Alan's finger that swabbed at the inside of his gums before moving up and scraping across the developing ridges at the top of his mouth.

Ken listened as Denver's chest rumbled and he let loose a low happy growl. "Well, someone's a _ good _ boy . . ." He chuckled. "Just giving into it all like this . . . You must have been thinking about this for ages." The black wolf grinned sardonically. Denver made as if to reply, but it was hard to talk with Alan's fingers in his creaking mouth. Ken spread his paws wide, laying them on the man's lightly furred dun chest and squeezing in, kneading with the leathery heels of his palms. As he pushed in harder, Denver's skin began to twitch, shuddering as it began to thicken, becoming looser and more pliant, pleasure flickering as those suede pads rubbed over his two sets of nipples. His lighter belly fur began growing in denser and fuller as the sultry black wolf leaned in against him, hands tracing down to his stomach.

"It'd be a shame to leave you without a full set." The jovial ebon wolf quipped, paws squeezing in, pinching his skin as two more vestigial teats welled up under his grasp, stiff, sensitive, and ever so slightly smaller than the others. Denver writhed against the ground as those caring paws ran through his thickening pelt, polished claws combing against his increasingly tough skin while he moaned. Ken was sure to rub over each of the pink mammalian nubs as they slowly became obscured by his thickening coat.

"There we go . . . now you're getting the idea." The dark wolf leaned in with his ferocious maw, nibbling up Denver's chest, spreading the second thick outer coat of fur up towards his neck where it fluffed out into a dense ruff. As his paws continued to knead, he slid his tongue up the reporter's straining chin, lapping past his dark lips and joining in an odd three way kiss as Alan pressed his face in as well. The two lupine tongues twisted around Denver's own as he panted and groaned, feeling his own tongue become more flexible as it flattened out. He found himself lapping out against their muzzles almost automatically as his dark nose took in their needful male scents while he tasted their lupine eagerness.

Between Denver's wide spread legs, Branston continued his work, paw reaching in to squeeze at the loose furry sheath around the man's still human cock as it thickened, glossy mahogany fur mussed by his probing animalistic fingers, contrasting with the pale flesh of his throbbing human shaft. His heavy head pressed in as he licked up under the man's balls in feckless rasps as they continued to pulse and swell out in their taut furry covering. The exaggerated sloppy laps even ran down the reporter's taint, sliding as his skin tightened, bristling with soft fur as his ass clenched in powerful, almost expectant tugs. Denver groaned out, cock tensing as a bead of clear pre leaked out from the rounded tip, sliding down his length and leaving a cooling slick trail.

The gray wolf leaned in, letting both of his hand-paws spread out on the dusty ground, tail swaying behind him as he let the animal instincts wash over him. He snuffled up the man's shaft, wiry whiskers poking against Denver's turgid flesh. With huffing relish, he pressed in, nudging against the plump edge of the journalist's sheath before pressing out with his tongue and squeezing it inside the pliant velveteen roll of flesh. The man's body rocked, feeling the malleable furry flesh stretch out as the tongue was sandwiched against the base of his cock, wriggling and driving deeper. The wolf's dark nose huffed in his half-human scent, pressed against the slick streak of pre as Denver felt harder than he had in his entire life. But even as his arousal grew, his cock pulled back as it stiffened, sinking into the sheath that bulged with the circling tongue slathering around inside of it. Eventually all that remained outside of the furry sheath was the head of his member that strained as the tip began to darken, turning a glistening cherry red.

The brown wolf between his legs pressed in between them, earth colored furry bulk rubbing against Denver's calves as his now canine hind-paws paddled in the air. The wolf nuzzled in, rubbing his ruff against the man's calves, sniffing in with tail wagging as the gray and hazel fur crept up past his ankles. He nibbled in, jaws opened wide and gnawing playfully at Denver's legs, coaxing the changes on, nipping at his ankles as they slimmed in to a taut animal joint, tendons straining under his plush coat. Jason smiled, noticing the more feral arrangement with a pleased huff.

As the man's calves strained shorter, the feral wolf wriggled up between his thighs, sniffing in at his changed testes as Branston continued his sloppy work above. The canine could smell the reporter changing, which was more rewarding than watching him ever could be. He huffed and drooled as he lavished Denver's thighs with attention, sniffing in as the boring human scent began to blaze into something more worthwhile, laced with the spicy tang of fear that had been undercut by overwhelming pleasure. The man's muscles tensed, skin twitching and squeezing as the wave of shaggy dust and stone colored fur boiled up over his now almost fully lupine legs, his claws grasping against the empty air on either side of the pleased and eagerly lapping wolf between his legs.

Denver reached out, head leaning back against Alan's warm and comforting lap as his body twisted in a series of pleasurable tugs, coaxed on by squeezing paws, hot slippery tongues, and nibbling fangs. Ken's fingers clenched against one of his questing hands while Alan's inverted paw entwined with his other. All the while their three muzzles continued pressing together, breaths huffing and tongues flickering out in a tactile informational frenzy. The man's muzzle stretched forwards in aching hot tugs, whiskers prickling out along the sides behind his nose. They brushed against the other werewolf's twitching and tugging at his increasingly thin feral lips.

The black wolf's pads were thicker and more defined than the white's, his plumper fingers squeezing against Denver's own as the bones began to creak and tingle, digits spasming as his nails began to darken, thickening and curling out even as his fingers swelled wider. Fur prickled in over his hands, racing up his wrists in splashes of cloudy gray mixed with coffee and cream. It felt stranger and stranger to be holding on to the others as they continued their extended canine kiss. He could smell all of them, how thrilled they were, wet nose huffing as he lapped out absentmindedly, tongue slipping into one lupine mouth and then the other while his ears twitched and he stretched his thickening neck.

The fingers around his hands felt like they were squeezing tighter and tighter, his padded palms thickening as his fingers began to get harder and harder to move. Far from feeling constraining though, it was almost comforting, their heavy wide weight bending forwards as a single wolfish paw. Ken's thumb rubbed over his own as it pulled back to the side, tugging smaller as the black wolf's fingers teased it. Denver's shoulder's began to strain, an audible cracking noise crunching from under his fur and skin as they realigned themselves. Ken pulled back, licking his wide balmy tongue over the man's new padded paw, nibbling down at the floppy nub of a dew claw passionately.

With that extra ebon muzzle no longer clouding his vision, Denver looked down and saw his animal paws hanging there like a dog's. His eyes widened and he shook himself violently enough that the werewolves pulled back from around him as he shouted, looking down at his floppy useless paws. Well, he tried to shout at least, but what came out was a yowling ululation, high pitched yammering lowering into a deep growl.

"What's that, boy?" Ken sat back on his haunches and laughed. "Looks like we have another Rin Tin Tin on our hands here.

Denver tried to push himself to his feet, only to fall forwards with a yelp, landing on his front paws with almost disturbing ease. His ears folded back as he whined. Looking up, he could see a hint of pink protruding from every tight furry sheath as their scents hung in the air, heavy enough to almost be visible. He could literally smell each of their own unique masculine eagerness in the most strangely alluring of ways. But that didn't change the fact that he no longer had any _ hands _. A whine escaped his lips.

"What, no. Of course it's not permanent. And you only really _ have _ to change on a full moon." Branston shook his shaggy head. "Come on Ken, we're not here just for cheap laughs.

Denver turned his head to the side, letting out a soft inquisitive "murf?"

"Yeah. We can understand you decently. It's mostly body language though, which makes some things a little more complicated." Alan scratched at one of the man's ears. "Trust me, we can help you get used to it. It's really not so bad."

The feral brown wolf walked up next to his still somewhat patchwork body, nuzzling against him comfortingly as if to say that things would be better if he calmed down a bit. Denver didn't really think so, panting heavily, trying unsuccessfully to stand again. Jason walked up next to him, shaking his head with a smug I told you so . . .

Denver panted, tongue lolling out as he shifted his weight from paw to paw. It wasn't uncomfortable exactly, but still it felt wrong, his body parallel to the ground, hind legs straining back as his claws dug into the hard earth. He looked around, the world looming around him imposingly. Fur covered patches of his body while his skin was exposed in others, making him feel like some sort of stitched together chimera.

"Oh come on . . . He's obviously enjoying this." Ken butted into their odd semi-verbal conversation.

Denver growled back at him, grinding his teeth as his lips pulled back.

"Well yeah, it's pretty obvious with this." He leaned in, reaching a paw under Denver's hind legs, grasping his tense furry package, padded fingers pinching at the pink pointed tip poking out of his sheath. "We can _ smell _ you too you know . . ."

The changing journalist's head pulled back, long jaws open as his tongue lolled out to the side.

"See?" Ken grinned as Denver pulled away, snarling and blushing at the same time.

"Come on give him a break." Alan chimed in.

"But he's not finished yet, is he . . . sorry, are _ you _?" Branston reached down, running a heavy hand over a patch of thickening fur on Denver's back.

Denver tilted his head to the side, pondering the question. He still felt like himself certainly. He wasn't anyone else . . . But his body did feel a little strange. He planted his paws on the ground . . . No, that wasn't it . . . It was impossible to tell, his frame of reference changing by the second.

As the dazed changing wolf looked forwards, Jason strode impetuously out in front of him, tail batting him in the face, whipping under his muzzle. Denver looked forwards eyes following the fluffy brown tail down to where the wolf's exposed tight dark anus rested below it, tugging this way and that as he wagged. Denver could hardly help himself, his new instincts pulling him forwards. The scent was just so strong, pouring into his wet black nose as he pressed it against the base of that plush tail, moving down to prod at the back of the heavy set of velveteen testes. The brown wolf panted, face split into a smug grin as he looked back over his shoulder at the changing reporter nosing at his sumptuous rump with unconstrained curious need.

"Yup. Take's one to know one." Ken laughed.

"Hey, in a few days we'll all be like that." Alan shrugged.

"I never said it was a _ bad _ thing . . ." Ken padded slowly behind Denver, kneeling down and resting an arm on his flanks. "Sometimes the doggy way is the best way." The man's head sprung up, as he looked back behind himself. "Don't mind me. I'm just saying hello . . ." He licked his chops, nosing in against Denver's fluffy rear, lapping up against his plump testes and then dragging across his tight clenched asshole. The man's fur all stood on end as a pleased whine escaped his lips and he pawed at the ground as if trying to process the lewd act, his cock pulsing and swelling under him, pointed crimson tip peaking out from his fuzzy plump sheath.

Jason looked back with a huff. Show off.

The other wolves looked down, distracted by the lewd drawn out lapping, Branston's paw moving down to his own hefty lupine crotch almost automatically as he watched, tongue lolling. Denver's hind legs strained, scraping back against the ground as his asshole was teased and ravished, straining out to bared canine prominence. But there was something more . . . his jaws opened silently, unable to deal with the pressure building up just above his quivering rump.

"Here . . ." Alan knelt down, snowy fur contrasting against the man's own. "This part can take some getting used to . . ." He stroked his fingers down Denver's back, over his haunches, kneading in just above his ass even as Ken continued to lap in with growing enthusiasm. "Let me just help you out a little . . . bit . . ." As he paused, he ground in with his softly padded fingers, kneading and squeezing before there was a lurching crack, the man's loose skin tightening as his spine pressed out into a furry nub. Denver yelped, the feeling impossibly strange as his bones creaked out again, muscles swelling around the base as he could feel it tug from side to side, stretching his ass against Ken's lewdly probing lupine tongue.

It was just too odd to feel it moving . . . Actually, it was weirder that _ he _was moving it, even as Alan insistently tugged at the growing fluffy tail, helping it creak out longer and fuller. The strangest thing was that it reflected his mood: a rising effervescence inside of him as he panted, actually beginning to bask in all of the attention, mind drawn from sensation to sensation in a twirling kaleidoscopic loop.

Jason wasn't about to be left out. The wily brown wolf butted his head against Denver's shoulder playfully before bending down and pressing his head in between the changing journalist's front legs. Denver reared his head back a bit, ears folding in confusion as the wolf pressed in further under him. It was kind of an awkward position, but he didn't pay it much mind as Ken's tongue tensed against his straining pucker, pressing in in a long hot shove before slipping in to wetly slide against his clenching ass. He groaned out an animal ululation, feeling Alan nibble at the tip of his growing tail teasingly as it swatted against his face. As the white wolf's paw tugged his tail out to its full bushy length, his animal anus clamped down fitfully, squeezing at the slippery pink muscle inside of him with his eyes half-closed.

They shot right back open though as a cold lupine nose butted in against his crotch, sniffing at his sheath as wiry whiskers tickled the exposed tip of his pulsing carmine shaft. Denver felt Jason's haunches press up between his forelegs as the wolf's tail wagged inches away from his nose. The insatiable canine climbed in further, bending down and arching his back as he lapped up the glistening bead of pre that dribbled from the man's turgid shaft, coaxing it to press out a little further, pulsing and bobbing. Jason's folded tongue caressed the emerging prick, cold nose huffing in Denver's own heightening wolfish reek as the brown wolf's own cock began to press out from below him, his furry rear bared as the base of his tail whapped against the side of the man's muzzle, feeling his entire body tensing as Ken's slathered his ass in affection.

"Are you doing alright?" Branston stepped in. The new wolf's body language was getting difficult to read as he was lapped at from below and behind. It was easy to see that he was in a great deal of pleasure as his tongue lolled out, his fur thickening as his body bulged with corded lupine muscles, coat spreading to cover most of his growing form. But the large hulking gray wolf thought it was best to ask anyways, walking forwards towards him and brushing a hand against the side of Denver's open muzzle reassuringly.

Denver's reply demonstrated his recent mastery of non-verbal communication as he craned his neck forwards, pressing his nose against the gray werewolf's pendulous furry testes. He huffed in Branston's heady musk before lapping up almost instinctually, slipping over the erect pink tip that poked from the heavy werewolf's furry sheath. The bipedal wolf's tail curled up in exclamation behind him, bared anus clenched as he grumbled out, words lost as he accepted the reporter's answer, panting with ears pulled back while he rubbed a paw lovingly over the plush fur on Denver's cheek. He watched the new wolf's body shake with pleasure and need, even as he continued to lap at Branston's package, sliding up the gradual curve of the reddish animal member that began to emerge.

Behind Denver, one of Ken's paws cradled his tight firm testicles, while his other rose up, prodding and stretching at the edges of his pliant animal anus while his tongue squelched inside of him again. The slippery pink length brushed against something inside of Denver that made his cock jerk, leaking out a hefty spurt of pre into Jason's waiting mouth as he pressed his muzzle forwards, engulfing Denver's straining cock as it emerged. The reporter whined, feeling the wolf's fangs brush lightly against his shaft, but the fear of having his cock swallowed by a savage feral beast was lost as the mischievous wriggling lupine began to suckle and wrap his tongue around the engorged marbled length, enjoying the man's pleased whining reaction.

The new wolf's eyes watered as the blue-eyed wolf strained his flickering tongue into his rump, black nose huffing against the base of his tail before he pulled back.

Denver whined, ears flickering, back legs shifting as he stood on the tips of his paws.

"Hmm, what's that?" Ken leaned in, dark padded fingers still tugging gently at the edge of Denver's glistening tight ass. "Aww, I bet you're feeling all empty now . . ." He cooed. "Well, I've got just the thing to fill you back up . . ." His other paw stroked down his half-exposed canine member as it pulsed out from his sheath.

"Hey, cut it out with the porno dialog . . ." The white wolf cut in. Ken yipped as Alan then smacked his ass teasingly. Denver could feel the brown wolf under him snicker, causing those jaws to tense and vibrate around his shaft, making the nearly changed man growl out a low note of bliss.

"Rude!" Ken huffed haughtily. "Now you're just making him wait . . ." His padded fingers rested on either side of Denver's pliant animal anus, tugging left and right as the man whined out against Branston's shaft.

Alan rolled his amber eyes. "Fine. I'll just go where I'm appreciated then . . ." He tugged on Denver's wagging tail as he walked along his body. "As I can see you've already fallen in with the wrong crowd . . ."

"Oh . . . I'm not in him . . . yet." Ken leaned forwards, grinding his shaft against the changed man's spittle slickened backside, hot pre dribbling out and mussing the fur at the base of his tail.

Even Branston groaned at that one, but whether it was from the cringe-worthy dialog or the fact that Denver was now sliding his heavy lupine jaws around his cock was a mystery. The powerful gray wolf leaned forwards, one paw resting on the changed journalist's shoulder as he rocked in with his hips, cock pressing out longer in a tapering curve until his furry sheath began to bulge, making the once human's dark cold nose huff curiously at it as he continued to let the shaft slide between his solid pearly fangs.

His curiosity was listless though as he felt the pleasure welling up just behind his exposed throbbing shaft. It felt vaguely uncomfortable, making his hips wriggle against Ken as the black wolf ground the tip of his shaft up under his tail, making his asshole twinge in anticipation. It was like his sheath was tightening as Jason let his shaft slide from his engulfing balmy jaws, long fleshy tongue lapping out hungrily along the slick red length. Denver's heartbeat hammered in his chest, echoing in his cock as the base began to swell pulsingly out into a glistening carmine bulb that the mischievous brown wolf bathed in affection, lapping up the swollen sides. Every minute contact made the new wolf's body tense, lupine member twitching and jerking out dribbles of pre as his balls clenched. But even though he wanted it more than anything in the world, the crafty canine wouldn't let him come, even as the passion bubbled up inside of him Jason teased and nibbled but then pulled back, snuffling in at his balls with barely restrained enthusiasm.

Denver's eyes stared in front of him as Branston's paw clenched against the back of his neck, pulling the loose skin under his now thick ruff. The gray werewolf ground his hips forwards, fangs bared as his own knot pulsed out of his sheath, the new wolf's nose butting against it again and again as it swelled to in impressive bulging protuberance. The journalist's floppy tongue slipped out and up the edges of the bulb as Branston's furry brow furrowed in ecstasy.

This was like something out of an Aliens flick. It was so misshapen . . . but the very thought of the hot rounded knot made him drool. The larger ashen wolf growled, lust overcoming his language, cock jerking, leaking out his powerful lupine flavor that Denver lapped up with relish, whiskers twitching as he huffed in the cloying scent of their collective feral rising passion. Maybe it wasn't weird at all . . . In fact, the idea was seeming more and more natural as he lapped at the turgid swollen knot.

The rough passionate treatment from in front of him pulled his thoughts away from the impish black wolf behind him as Ken's paws slid up from his taut ass to rest on his haunches. His tail thwacked against Ken's fury black belly as the werewolf lowered himself, cock dragging up, poking at his ripe heavy testes and sliding along his taint before resting against his needy ass. Denver's breath caught in his throat, ears standing straight up on top of his head, tail stiff as Ken rocked forwards, pointed crimson tip spreading him as it sank inside, twitching as he clenched around it with reflexive relish. The black wolf didn't even have any banter left as his tongue lolled out and he rocked his hips, cock sliding back and forth, a little deeper with every thrust, tugging the new wolf's wildly clenching ass as he leaned in, buried his muzzle in the plush fur of Denver's back, and inhaled his deep mature cedar scent.

The new wolf's muzzle was jerked back and forth, and it was all he could do to cradle Branston's shaft with his tongue as Ken thrust wildly into his rump. His own hips were pistoning as well, rutting against Jason's black huffing nose as the brown wolf craned his neck up and slurped wildly at Denver's shaft, licking the front edges of the knot, but avoiding the back, driving the once-man wild as his hips rocked with increasingly wild feral rhythm. Branston's paw brushed roughly over Denver's ears in wordless encouragement as the new wolf felt Ken's member sink deeper and deeper, pulsing as his knot swelled at the base, soon butting up against Denver's tender straining ass over and over again with massive throbbing insistence.

The white wolf smiled as he looked down, watching the pack come together as he walked behind Branston while the bestial wolf thrust against Denver's rapidly lapping muzzle. His cock throbbed as he reached his arms around the huge wolf's wide frame, wrapping his hands over the gray beast's pecs as he ground against his brushy fur, cock pressing in under his swishing tail, smearing his asshole with Alan's slick wolfish lust. The hefty gray wolf groaned out, leaning back as Alan pushed forwards with sensual efficiency, leaning the side of his muzzle against Branston's thick neck, huffing in his scent. He planted his feet and slowly slid forwards through that clenched hole, breaths halting as he felt his packmate's entrance wrench in at his cock in seismic fits while he slid inside of him, making the white wolf grit his teeth and whine as his knot pressed out of his snowy sheath.

They all rocked in a tangle of lupine limbs and rich scent. Denver was completely surrounded. His ass was being filled, taut ring of muscle spasming and clenching as it was stretched a little bit wider every time Ken's knot thudded against him before pulling back and ramming in again, making his tail wag fitfully with every seizing twist. His hind claws dug into the ground as Jason's jaws slid over his shaft, slick textured tongue lapping and wrapping around the pulsing length. Denver's testes squeezed, scrotum pulled taut as his cock shook and squirted out a minute burst of pre while his chiseled tip ground against the fleshy ridges at the top of the rumbling earthy feral wolf's maw, feeling the heat from each hot burst of breath disperse through the thick coat of his belly.

The braced gray werewolf in front of him rocked forward every time Alan thrust into his tender ass. Denver's mind was spinning with the luscious pleasure, and he let the thick shaft slide between his front fangs, slurping around it with wild abandon. The meaty length bucked in his jaws, Alan's paws groping at Branston's obscured nipples as Denver's wet huffing nose bumped against his turgid knot. His potent taste mixed with the heady potpourri of their scents. The wild melange mingling in the cool air seared into the journalist's mind. He was lost in a fusillade of pleasure as he was assaulted from all sides.

Even as Branston moaned out in a halting yowl, heaving every time Alan's knot bumped against his ass while his cock was ravaged by the fledgling werewolf, he still had something left that he wanted to do. He leaned forwards, heavy arm reaching down past Denver's head, combing through his mixed slate fur down to the dark brown of Jason's flanks. His wide fingers fanned out as he slipped under the brown wolf, digits wrapping around the coy beast's bobbing member, quickly growing slick with dripping pre as he began to pump relentlessly back against the exposed bulb of the wolf's fleshy knot. Denver could feel Jason's jaws widen around his member in shock before rattling with a growl of pleasure, the brown wolf's hind claws digging into the ground as his cock was tugged at roughly in quick slickened yanks.

Those jaws stretching open was the only invitation Denver needed, hips thrusting forwards even as Ken slammed into his writhing ass. He shivered as he felt sharp fangs brush against his turgid knot while his cock slipped all the way into Jason's feral muzzle. The brown wolf's jaws then closed slightly, crossed fangs trapping his knot inside of that balmy muzzle as the new wolf's tapered tip ground into his fleshy gullet. Denver's hips started hammering automatically as his body curled in, the feeling of the tugging at the base of his knot was transcendental, passion inside of him beginning to bubble and churn as he howled out muffled ecstasy around Branston's shaft.

Denver's vigorous humping was causing his ass to grind back against Ken as the dark werewolf hissed in a deep breath. There were twinges of pain, but it was grossly overshadowed as the reporter's ass was stretched wider and wider, dark edges straining around the edges of that slick bulb that slammed into him as he pressed back against it. One of Ken's paws squeezed at his hips as the other grabbed in tight around his tail, gray fur poking through his black fingers as he tugged it up. The black werewolf strained forwards, not pulling back, teeth gritted as he held the tail in his grasp taut, feeling it jerk in time with Denver's straining asshole. There was a terrifying moment of equilibrium before the new wolf's rear clenched, tugging Ken inside of him and locking him there with a solid thud.

That hot throbbing tightness inside of him made Denver's ass go ballistic, squeezing in great wrenching heaves as Ken leaned against him, hips bumping quickly against his straining rear. The knot pressed and pulled at his tender insides, grinding against something that made his cock spurt out slick pre into Jason's maw which remained locked around his own swollen shaft. A rumble built up in his chest as he opened his stuffed maw wide, letting out a guttural choppy yowl of bliss before being suddenly silenced.

Alan nibbled at Branston's ruff, leaning over him as he plowed forwards, knot popping into the gray wolf's quivering ass, making him lurch forward into Denver's stretched jaws. The turgid bulbous base of the gray wolf's shaft pressed between the man's fangs and lodged in the back of his throat. Denver's ass clenched as his canine shaft surged out a mote of clear salty pre. With his member locked in that eager and yet inexperienced muzzle, Branston's paw tightened around Jason's shaft, wide leathery fingers pulling back and squeezing around the knotted base of his cock, making the feral wolf's tail shake and balls tighten as he whined around Denver's shaft.

Unable to take the near seismic wrenching anymore, Ken threw back his head, ears folded as he howled, pitch dark tail jerking in time with his embedded cock as he began to loose wave after wave of white hot wolf seed into Denver's quivering ass. He pulled back on Denver's tail, feeling the new wolf's insides squeeze and quiver around him with fitful bursts of clenching strength.

Jason was the next to come, Branston's paw squeezing with a vice-like grip around his red bulging knot as he wriggled his rump, weight shifting under Denver's front legs. His pleasured yipe was drowned out by the new wolf's cock lodged in his gullet, but his balls tensed, tail whapping out to the side, as pressured ropes of virile lupine cum splattered against the sandy soil beneath him. They all could smell the rich mind-searing passion, pearlecent essence glistening in the moonlight as their noses all twitched amidst their savage jostling procession.

Alan's arms squeezed tight around Branston's barrel-wide chest. He sucked in breath through his teeth, feeling the burly wolf's tight ass clench around his knot, tongue hanging out as he leaned against him, tail waving wildly as he erupted inside of him, spattering out torrid essence as Branston's ass clamped down around his shaft. Denver could feel the massive gray werewolf's cock buck in his jaw straining in time with his wrenching anal contractions as the massive wolf snarled, chest rumbling as his balls tensed before spraying hot essence into the new wolf's gullet. The taste of hot seed flooded Denver's mouth, his breaths becoming short and rushed as polished copper crept into the gray brown of his lupine eyes, tongue wildly swabbing at the gargantuan pulsing shaft as it continued to fill his maw with pearly benedictions.

Time slowed to a crawl for Denver. He was filled to the brim with affection that no human interaction could hope to match. He thrust his hips forwards, Ken's knot tugging in his quivering ass as his cock ground forwards inside of Jason's muzzle, the backs of those smooth fangs pulling at the new wolf's throbbing bulb of carmine flesh. Denver gargled around the cock lodged in his gullet as his entire body twisted, balls clenching, tail straining in Ken's paw, claws scrabbling at the ground before his maleness quivered, jerking up an instant before his insides all tensed up and he sent a liquid white lance of pleasure splashing into the back of Jason's eager squeezing throat.

His orgasm made his ass clench in arrhythmic fits, milking Ken's swollen cock for all it was worth as it tugged his tender insides forwards and back. The feelings of animal ecstasy crashed over him, their scents all blending together into a physical force as the flavor of the hot thick lupine seed seeping down his aching jaws joined in the mix as Branston continued to butt against his muzzle every time Alan rocked into his hefty ass, causing those heavy plush testicles to swing against the bottom of Denver's muzzle.

Jason's fervored lapping strained with every jolt of his own cock, spilling musky feral seed on the ground as he greedily devoured Denver's fresh lupine essence, canine mouth writhing around his turgid length as the new wolf's cock pulsed and surged over and over again, making his now completely animal body bristle with wild euphoria.

The new wolf pulled the rest of the pack on far further than one of their normal moonlight tirades. His unflagging freshly transformed vigor coaxed them onto new heights as their howls rang out into the chill night air, their sweltering furry bodies grinding together. Denver's corded muscles strained as the others ground against him, paws combing through his fur, scratching his ears, grasping firmly at his tail. It seemed to take ages of heady jostling animalistic fucking before his passion began to ebb, and their howling was replaced by the sound of heavy exhausted panting.

Jason's jaws yawned against his belly, stretching up and off of his knot as the mahogany wolf wobbled out from under him, collapsing on his back with his paws splayed up into the air as he licked his chops slowly. Denver felt the chill of the air against his cock, amazed at how far his jaws could stretch as Branston pulled back from his muzzle, spent thick length sliding slowly over his tongue one last time, a line of spittle and seed snapping between them.

The new wolf's tongue licked up at his glistening nose as his panting slowed, and he looked over his shoulder to where Ken's member was still firmly lodged in his tender ass, raising a furry brow.

"Hey, it's not quite that easy, I couldn't pull out if I wanted to." Ken pulled back slightly to make his point, Denver yelping as he was tugged back, paws shifting slightly.

"Oh, it's completely natural. It'll probably go down in about half an hour. Depends on how much you squirm." The black wolf's tongue lolled from his lips.

Denver shook his ruff with a sigh.

"Besides, we hardly know each other." Ken's cerulean eyes gleamed in the moonlight as he grinned.

"He does have a point." Alan chimed in from behind Branston. It seemed he too was stuck fast.

Ken snickered.

"Har de har har." Alan shook his head.

"What?" Branston rubbed a paw against the side of his muzzle blearily. "Oh . . ." He began to chuckle as Ken gestured down to where his 'point' was still lodged under Denver's tail.

They all laughed at that, even Jason wheezing jovially as he looked up towards the incomplete moon. There was a moment of silence as they all collected their senses.

"Alright, Let's go to the left." Alan wrapped his paws around Branston's broad shoulders.

"Got it." The larger, more feral wolf nodded as they collectively and awkwardly knelt before toppling over onto their sides. Although the process was ungraceful at best, the end result looked more comfortable than the alternative as they snuggled front to back.

"Alright, Fido. That looks like better plan than what we've got going on here." Ken rest a paw on his partner's back.

Denver turned his head, lips pulling back as he snarled.

Jason looked casually over, one hind paw raised as he shamelessly cleaned his receding erection, bearing his teeth against Ken in a token gesture of support. You get used to it . . .

"Here we go . . ." Ken reached under him despite his trepidations, leaning back as they both rolled onto the ground with a flumph, their tails gyrating.

Denver was left with Branston a few inches away from his face and his back against Ken's chest. Jason shook his head and trotted over, looking down at them and shaking his head.

"Well, yeah. Setting up the tent seemed like a good idea at the time." Alan replied, hand stroking though Branston's thick neck ruff.

The brown wolf sighed, looking towards the tent and then back again before curling up between them with theatrical reluctance. The wind rustled through the pines as they all settled in.

"So we've got some things to tell you . . ." Alan broke the silence.

Denver nodded, coppery eyes looking up towards the moon, wriggling his body, legs splayed as he tried to find the most comfortable position.

"Well it's good you have a bunch of questions, because we're going to be here forever if you keep fidgeting." Ken sighed, even as he reached a dark paw around and scratched him under the chin. Branston smiled, watching the new brown and gray streaked wolf lean into the scritches.

"Alright, well . . . Let's just start from the beginning." Alan peeked his head over Branston's shoulder.

As the night progressed, Denver learned more than he ever thought he would about the pack of werewolves. They weren't nearly as exotic as he had thought they were, but rather just a group of oddballs brought together by a series of seemingly random events.

His breathing slowed as he listened to each of them tell their tale in turn, eyes slowly closing as he could feel Ken's heartbeat against his back. He still felt that he should be angry at them for changing him . . . or at least a little indignant. Somehow, it was just very difficult to imagine being anything more than generally miffed at the moment.

Words droning into rumbling tones in his mind, he gradually closed his eyes, deciding that the best thing to do would be to sleep on it. And there was no better place to do so than surrounded by the furry warmth of his new-found pack.