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This story contains solo sexual acts involving an adult male and is day #21's entry for Kinktober. Today's kink is Transformation, and comes to you thanks to Soulimbibe! :3

Embracing the Change

Canimus could feel the bite on his arm throbbing as the afternoon wore into evening and the sun began to descend. He tried to ignore it, tried just to sit back and play some video games like he wasn't counting down every minute, every second to sunset. The skin around the bite began to prickle, then to itch. The feeling spread across his body, more and more unbearable in any spot bound by clothes, like something was trying to tear its way out from his flesh and rip his clothes aside to expose the fur and flesh to the increasingly dim evening light. The smilodon gave a grunt of frustration, tossing the controller down onto the couch beside him and peeling off his t-shirt, closely followed by his boxer shorts. In just a matter of seconds he was naked, and thankfully the itching began to fade. Not to abate entirely of course, but to grow less and less feverish over the areas once clad in fabric.

It didn't take long though, as sunset turned to dusk and the rising of the moon over the horizon grew ever more imminent, for that one itch to be replaced with another.

"G-goddammit... get a grip..."

The smilodon growled to himself as his cock ached and strained between his legs, his whole body leaning back on the couch to avoid placing even the slightest pressure on his swollen and sensitive balls. He tried to keep focused on the game, not on the desire boiling within his balls and the thick erection twitching above them. He tried to tell himself it was the adrenaline from the intense action of the shooter on the screen that was making his heart pound and indeed forcing his cock to throb with such forceful urgency. But as he died over and over again in game, far too focused on restraining the needs of his body to pay attention to the action on screen, that excuse soon wore thin to the point of futility.

Canimus' frustrated growls turned to a roar of pleasure as he threw the controller to the ground with a thick thud, leaving the game idling on the death-screen while grasping instead at his already dripping, straining erection. He began to masturbate urgently, placing his legs up onto the coffee table, spreading them wide and allowing the first pale rays of moonlight to shine in from the living room's backyard window. Those rays fell upon his trembling body, upon the marked surface of his left arm, and upon his trembling cock. The sabretoothed male's eyes bulged, and as hot streaks of cum began to lash across the fur of his stomach, chest and face amidst strangled and bestial howls, his pleasure stricken body began to change in the moonlight's glow.

Still thrashing, grunting, masturbating and cumming uncontrollably, Canimus lurched forward off the couch and onto his knees. He fell forward as he felt the bones of his arms and legs crunching loudly within, thought accompanied by a notable absence of the pain that should have accompanied such sounds. Instead all he felt was the burning, the itching, no longer centred solely on his arm but divided between that and his drooling, spurting cock as it continued to ripple up and down the length of his body with lesser shocks of dizzying, unbearable stimulation. He scrabbled at the carpeted ground beneath him as his fingers grew shorter and thicker, claws protruding from between each digit. He could see his tousled, pale brown headfur receding, pulling back from where he could see it just barely dangling over his eyes as it became more naturally short and tufted upon the crest of his skull, and feel his teeth swelling, elongating with every passing moment.

Lost in his mixture of pure pleasure and the unbearable itch of the bite responsible for all of this, Canimus humped at the air. He yowled mindlessly as his cock slapped against his belly with the force of its twitches and continued to paint his fur, not to mention the floor beneath where he knelt with each rope and streak of his seed. What he wanted, what his body needed to drive it to such extremes was unclear right now. He didn't understand yet. He couldn't, not until the change was complete. But he wanted to, and thus he didn't fight it. If anything, ever scream and roar the smilodon let loose was him wordlessly begging for the transformation to not only continue, but hurry the hell up.

The barbed tip of the feline male's cock seemed to swell slightly, the ridges and bumps upon the head growing more pronounced as it continued to strain and spurt ribbons of cum across the living room floor. His spine began to creak and pop just as his limbs had, bringing his head into alignment with its new body and doing likewise for the smilodon's tail. Bone wasn't the only major portion of the male's body changing though, his flesh, his muscles, they too were shifting. His body, particularly the upper half, grew thicker and stockier. It swelled larger, broader and more muscular, and though his legs also found themselves growing more and more powerful with each passing second, it was his front end that was clearly meant to handle business. Those razor sharp teeth, dripping with saliva. Those sharp eyes and larger, longer, tufted ears. The thick, meaty paws on his front legs bearing almost sabre-like claws to accompany his teeth, ready to tear, to slice, and to maim.

His lower body had but a few jobs by comparison. Be strong enough to keep up with the front half's pace, be agile enough to retain balance, and of course... to breed. His balls swelled as Canimus began to pad towards the living room's rear window, towards the glowing orb of the moon hanging still low in the evening sky. He snarled and huffed loudly, testicles filling out and filling up faster than his throbbing, unceasingly orgasmic cock could empty them. He left a trail of cum drizzling the ground behind him, but it wasn't enough. It wasn't even close to enough of a release to sate his urges. Nothing would be. At least, nothing he could do alone.

The smilodon snarled with feral urgency as he clawed his way up to peer out of the window, placing one meaty paw on either side of its frame and pushing his face to the glass. His hot breath steamed up the window almost instantly, and as his cock began to paint the wall beneath the window with streaks of cum Canimus' powerful claws began to dig slowly but surely into the painted stone wall. His mind was almost completely that of a beast now, but still held traces of the man he had been so recently. He lowered his paws and clawed at the window's catch. He growled as it resisted his fingerless swipes at first, but gave a snarl of satisfaction when the catch sprang open not long after, and with both paws and the bridge of his nose Canimus was able to push the thankfully broad window up and all the way open.

Sticking his head out into the cool night air, Canimus roared. He roared not as a man, but as a monster. A were-cat, just like the one who had bitten him a month prior, and whose bite had been growing more and more inflamed and itchy over the last three nights as the full moon drew ever closer.

Still locked in a helpless and endless orgasm, granted no satisfaction without the companionship his body desired, Canimus howled and screeched at the sky, begging for an answer from his mate. From the one who had given rise to him, and the only one now who could quell his urges with their own body's touch.

He roared, and in the distance... far away, but just within earshot, something else roared back.

In an instant, Canimus was gone from his home. Gone leaving the window wide open and the TV still locked on the ending screen of his failed game. He was scrambling out of the window, the broad and powerful muscles of his shoulders making the gap wide enough where even now it seemed barely able to fit his bestial form. Then he was tumbling to the grassy ground beyond, still roaring, still cumming, and still listening to the cries of the other were-cat in the distance... though perhaps now getting slightly closer. He dragged himself to his feet, and with his cock slapping at his stomach and a trail of thick cum being left in droplets and long strands behind him, Canimus raced off to meet his maker.

They would find one another.

They would breed.

And then... when their more intimate urges were satisfied, they would hunt. That way, when next month's full moon came around, there would be more were-folk to answer their howling, roaring calls. More were-folk with whom to hunt and form a pack. And of course, more were-folk with which they could unleash the full fury of their lust. Pure passion, pure pleasure of such intensity that no matter how strong the will or morality of the sapient mortal that lay deep inside each were-creature's transformed self, they wouldn't be able to help but embrace the change... so that they too might experience such pleasure in all its wild, untamed glory.

By Jeeves

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