What Happens In The Woods...
Fenrir the wolf has a fun weekend planned. He'll have the house to himself, and there's a stallion at school that's caught his eye. But before he can do that, he has to help his father out with a small problem. Except, that's about to become a much bigger problem - both for Fenrir, and for his tailhole.
Another short piece to keep your dicks hard while I putter along on the next big one. This one has a somewhat different tone in part to previous pieces; I'd be curious to hear what you think of it.
Thank you to my Telegram group for their assistance with brainstorming this. Whether you're interested in seeing snippets of upcoming pieces, helping me decide what to write next, like seeing WIPs of my art, wanna provide characters for future art or stories, or just want to chat casually with fun people about shared interests, why not pop in? Readers, writers, and everything in between are welcome :) Join us here: https://t.me/joinchat/G9Tf2kf7xV7E15L374bF5Q
"Got your textbooks?"
"Yes, Dad."
The white-furred wolf looked down at a piece of paper, frowning through his glasses. "Homework done?"
"Yes, Dad." A younger, greyer wolf sat at a table, eating a bowl of cereal and answering the questions posed to him with a long-suffering expression.
"Right. Right." A claw tapped the paper. "Meals in the freezer, you remember? Three minutes--"
"--in the microwave, yeah." The taller wolf opened his mouth to say more, but his son got there first. "And let it stand," he said, eyes rolling, "so I don't burn my mouth." He let his spoon go, and it clinked to the side of the bowl. "Dad. C'mon. It's fine. You know it is. Every time!"
His father nodded. "Yep. Yep. Sorry." But his eyes strayed to the paper again, and he began mumbling the words to himself.
"Chains checked...locks oiled...meals made for Fenrir..."
Fenrir finished his breakfast as his father continued to mutter. When he finished, he stood; his body unfolding lankily until his head was just above his father's own. He gave his preoccupied father a kiss on the side of the head. "I'll be home by two, Dad," he said. "We can go over the list again before you go inside."
His father looked up. "Make sure! Always make sure, son." He fidgeted with the piece of paper in his paw, eyes running up and down over invisible columns of figures. "Very important."
"Yes, Dad. I know. It'll be fine. I'll see you later, and we'll get you settled in, and I'll be fine all weekend. Promise. I got lots to do, and if the food runs out in just two days..." He gave a feral grin. "I can always hunt the rabbits next door!"
His father's expression became mortified. "Fenrir, no! The Junipers are a lovely family! Please don't eat them!"
The grey wolf looked at his father in puzzlement. "It was a joke." He shook his head. "You seem more agitated than normal, Dad. Everything alright?"
"Hmm?" The older wolf hardly seemed to be paying attention to his son's words. "Fine. Oh, fine. Um. Yeah...just..." He grunted and bent his neck to one side, making it crack. "Just think it's gonna be a big one this time. Feels like it." One paw scratched at his breast. "Just wanna get it over with." He looked up at his son, eyes blinking rapidly. "I wanna go in as soon as you get home, okay? Couple hours early. To make sure."
"Okay, Dad," Fenrir said. "If it'll make you feel better." He grabbed a rucksack off a chair and slung it across his back. "Two o'clock. Be ready."
"Yep! Yep!" The white wolf nodded rapidly, then seemed to remember something, and stepped forward to give his son a hug. "Be good, and work hard!" he said paternally. Fenrir smiled and nodded.
"See ya later, Dad!"
"Bye, Fen."
The school bell had rung ten minutes before, and Fenrir was sauntering home. The day was warm, with not a cloud in the sky, and he luxuriated in the feel of the heat against his skin. It was just before two on a Friday, and he was ready for what was sure to be a great weekend.
It wasn't often that Dad's turns lined up over an entire weekend; usually, they hit only one day or the other. This time around, he'd have two days free. Two whole days without supervision. Not that he'd abuse them: his father trusted him, and expected him to be responsible during the times he couldn't be there. The wolf would never betray that. He respected how hard things were for his father already; the last thing he needed was to come to and find his house trashed from a wild house party or something. Fenrir was a good boy.
The only treat he'd allowed for himself was to take advantage of the empty house and have a friend over. A special friend. Lance: the quarterback stallion and general school stud. When he wasn't racking up points on the sports field after school, he was racking up wolf blowjobs behind the changing rooms. Fenrir had noticed his glances in the locker rooms years before, and it hadn't taken them long to work out an exchange. Lance got to empty his ever-full nuts, and Fenrir got to suck on stud dick a good few times a week. Win fucking win. The wolf had been looking for an opportunity to let Lance bust his nut somewhere tighter for ages, but with the way his Dad was, alone time was a rarity.
And now he had two whole days of it. And only a week after he turned eighteen, too. Talk about a birthday present.
His tail began wagging furiously as he dreamed about Lance's thick pink cock finally opening up an entirely new piece of wolf real estate in downtown Pound Town, and he just about skipped his way down the driveway to the front door. He pushed it open and tossed his rucksack into the corner with a practised flick. "Dad!" he yelled. "I'm home!" The door slammed shut, and the wolf hurried upstairs, taking the stairs two at a time. "Let's do the room, Dad!"
He poked his head into his father's bedroom upstairs, ears perked. Nobody there. He checked the bathroom, with similar results. "Dad?" he said, peering over the bannister to the lower floor. His still-wagging tail slowed, and he frowned, heading back downstairs. "Daaad?" he called out again, more cautiously. This was weird. His father was fanatical about his turn schedule; he should have been standing right at the front door, chains in hand, already sweating to get it done. He had been odd that morning, though...perhaps he'd already gone to the room? Ah -- of course. It was soundproofed; Dad was in there, and couldn't hear him. That was it.
Relief flooded through the wolf's system as he hurried through the sitting room and headed towards the basement door -- only for shock to wipe it away in turn when he saw every lock and bolt fastened shut, as it always was, even when not in use. Dad couldn't have done that himself, so he wasn't downstairs.
So -- where was he?
A soft groan sounded out from the back porch, and Fenrir's head whirled towards it. He hurried out of the back door and onto the porch, gasping when he saw his father lying face-down on the floor, moving weakly.
"Dad!" He rushed to the older wolf's side, turning him around. Fear was copper in his mouth; his father looked like death. Sweat coated the older wolf's face: his fur was sopping and matted to his skin, and his eyes were unfocused. His tongue lolled limply, and his paws and feet jerked and clenched at random, as if he was having some sort of fit. Fenrir pulled his father's head into his lap. "Dad!" he cried, holding his father's muzzle and pulling one eye open with a thumb. It was all sclera, bloodshot and horrible. "Dad? Oh, shit, oh shit..." He could hear his heart thumping in his ears. "Dad, I'm gonna call an ambulance...can you hear me? Dad? DAD?"
The other eye fluttered wider, and his father's pupils managed to focus on him. "F...Fe..." He could barely speak. "N...n..." One paw came up to grip his son's shirt with unexpected force, and he really seemed to be trying to focus his efforts. "N...no...bula...am...lance..." The hand fell again, exhausted. His mouth was completely dry, and his tongue looked cracked.
"Dad?" Fenrir's heart felt like it would burst from his chest, and his body was shivering with fear. "Dad! What? No ambulance? But you..." A fearful thought occurred to Fenrir. "Oh no...Dad...no...are...are you...?"
His father's changes were as reliable a clock as any the wolf knew. It was the only fact about them that let the two wolves have something approaching a normal life. The gaps between instances were variable, but they followed an overarching pattern that made them predictable. And they always started at sunset, local time. Without fail. His father made sure he was in his soundproofed basement well before that, of course: shackled by countless huge chains to a massive, wrought-iron monstrosity that was half-buried in the ground and welded to sheet metal for strength. His son would help him get tied up, and then leave: sealing the reinforced door to the basement with endless locks and deadbolts as a final layer of protection. Dad had never let him be present during the change. It was too dangerous, he said. The fearsome construct in the basement -- not to mention the sheer size and strength of the restraints he affixed to his nervous, blinking father -- had not given Fenrir any reason to doubt his word.
Of course he'd wondered what happened during the two days that Dad was...different. But he was a good boy. He nodded when his father told him that he didn't want him to know, and he'd never risked going downstairs to see. He stayed in the house, and ate his pre-made meals, and on sunrise of the third day he unlocked the basement door, went downstairs, and removed the chains from an exhausted, relieved father. And then life went on as usual.
Until the next time.
"Dad?" he said urgently. "Dad!? Are...are you...changing?" The final word was whispered, as if saying it too loud would trigger it to come to pass. But he couldn't be. It was far too early. Fenrir could still see the sun, high in the sky. This made no sense! But that one word nonetheless seemed to reach some part of his father that still had focus. His father's eyes widened, and his pupils focused on his son. His dry mouth flapped a few times. "S...Fen...w...w..."
Fenrir tried to lift his father. "We gotta get you in the room, Dad," he grunted. His own limbs were trembling nearly as much as his father's. "It's not far...we can do it..."
"W...woo..." His father pressed his hand away weakly when he took his shoulder. "N...n...F...aaaaaaaaugh!"
The scream was bloodcurdling, and his father's back suddenly arched upward, thrusting his body into the air, before letting it collapse back to the cool concrete of the porch. Fenrir slapped a paw to his mouth to hold back his own terrified scream, and tears began running down his face. He didn't know what to do! He didn't know if this was a change or not. Could he risk an ambulance? If he was wrong...
Dad's first rule: never tell. Never let anyone find out.
Ohshitohshitohshit...
Whatever had made his father flex like a suspension bridge also seemed to have infused him with something approaching energy, and a paw gripped Fenrir's shirt again -- two paws. He gripped them back, trying not to sob as he looked at his father. "Dad...I don't know what to do..." he whimpered, wiping snot from his nose. "I'm scared, Dad...help...come back to me...please...?"
"F...Fen." The words were as faint as the wind, but they were complete. "N...no time. W...w...woods...go...woods..."
"Dad!" Fenrir tried to get all the words out while his father was lucid. "The room, the locks, I can do it, I can do it..."
His father groaned. "No...too much...bigger th...than...uuuhhhh..." His grip faded. "Woods...woods..." was all he said before his eyes rolled back up into his head.
The woods. A forest bordered their property; a pleasant enough piece of nature, but too heavily wooded to be good for anything except admiring from outside. No walking trails or driving routes bisected it. A sore point for day-trippers, but perfect for -- say -- concealing something. Like drug deals, or illegal hunting...or a wolf in the throes of a dangerous transformation.
Fenrir gulped down some air and stuck an arm behind his father's back, pulling him to his feet with adrenal strength. He pulled one of his father's arms around his neck and gripped his paw on the other side; it felt clammy and soft. Fenrir tried not to grip it too tightly and began hurrying as fast as he could, practically pulling his father along. The parts of his mind that weren't panicking, were asking questions. Why was this happening now? Was this all normal? Is this what usually happened when Dad became a...a...
Fenrir had no idea what his father became. He only knew it must be terribly dangerous.
The sun's warmth vanished as soon as they entered the forest, the coolness replacing the heat like the cut of a knife. Fenrir struggled through drifts of early autumn leaves and over fallen logs, panic clouding his vision. They had to get deeper. Deeper. The deeper the better. Then Dad could...could change, and, and, and nobody would find him, and...and...and it would be fine...
Fenrir gave an explosive sob of terror. Please let it be fine. Please, please, please, please...
His father's transition seemed to be taking its time, at least, and they hurried and stumbled and pushed their way ever deeper into the woods. Any sounds of the city had long since faded: only bird calls and creaking branches could be heard now. Fenrir didn't know how long they'd been moving. It felt like forever. It might only have been five minutes. No, it must be more than that. How wide was the wood? He stopped suddenly, fearful that if he went too far, they'd simply emerge on the other side, into someone's back yard or something.
Through some trunks, he saw an open area where a huge tree must have fallen, years before. He turned them towards it, and they broke through the undergrowth into a puddle of sunlight. Fenrir's father groaned in the sudden light, and his son stumbled to the centre of the clearing, letting them both collapse to the ground. He gasped for breath as his father curled and moaned next to him. This would have to do. But he didn't know. Was this far enough? All he could feel was fear. He wished he knew what was going to happen...
His father gave a deeper groan, and Fenrir reached for his shoulder -- and then snapped back with a scream as his father's paw swung at him, claws extended. "Dad, it's me!" he squealed, his voice sounding like a terrified boy's. But his father didn't seem to hear. The flailing paw pressed against the earth, and his father pushed himself upright a little, giving Fenrir hope -- until his head swung around like an overbalanced weight, and two deep brown eyes fixed on him.
His father had blue eyes.
Fenrir whimpered and skidded backwards across the ground, away from his father, his ears flat with confusion and worry. The older wolf was on all fours now, his chest heaving in and out as he breathed, staring down at the ground. His tail hung limp, and sweat dripped from his body. His breathing slowed a little, and his groans grew softer and less frequent. When one paw grabbed onto a fallen tree, and he began pulling himself to his knees, it seemed the worst might be over.
"Dad?" Fenrir queried cautiously. "Are...are you alri--"
His father lifted his muzzle into the air and gave an air-shattering howl. Midway through, the sound started to change-- as did the rest of him. Fenrir stared in shock as his father's form appeared to twist and flow, bunching up in places, and thinning in others. His muzzle grew wider and longer, making his howl deepen. Every limb thickened, and Fenrir could see new muscle forming -- how? -- underneath the skin, making it bulge outward in hard curves. His paws had begun to fuse, and as Fenrir gaped, the individual toes disappeared, melding together into the smooth, hard mass of a large hoof.
His father grew. The wolf had been of average height, but as every part of him now thickened and lengthened, his head lifted higher and higher above the ground. His clothes didn't stand a chance, and seams split with ripping noises as the creature they surrounded changed into something that was emphatically not a wolf. Before long, the animal was as tall kneeling as Fenrir was while standing. The ears lengthened, and as the tail dissolved into loose hairs, a fresh crop of them burst from the nape of his neck, cascading down over his father's back and shoulders. His upper body was still covered in fur, but it darkened rapidly, and in moments went from almost white to a deep blue-black shade. The sunlight caught every new hair, making his coat shimmer in the light.
As his father's shoulders broadened outward, his chest expanded too -- and his throat with it. The deeper howl changed once again, becoming a sonorous -- and very equine -- whinny. It ended, and the new creature took a deep breath in, and released a second ear-splitting trumpeting. He pushed himself to his feet, the transformation complete, and Fenrir stared in awe at the enormous stallion his father had become, his fear fading away now that the great unknown of the transformation was complete.
His stallion-father was astonishingly beautiful.
He towered above the prostrate wolf, eight feet if he was an inch. His body was a temple to muscle. Every inch of him was wrapped in hardness, and every movement he made caused them to bunch up attractively. His fur -- a furred stallion! -- glistened with each motion, waves of brightness sweeping across it as he turned this way and that. His nostrils were flared wide as he breathed in, and he ran one hand up his own body, from his powerful thigh, over his rippling belly, and up to his broad, furry chest. He seemed satisfied, and he lifted his face to glory in the sunlight...and then turned to look at Fenrir, with eyes that smouldered under wide brows.
"Dad..." Fenrir breathed, but the stallion showed no sign of recognising him. He raised his muzzle in Fenrir's direction, and then sniffed at him. The snort was sudden and feral, and it sent a thrill through Fenrir that made him feel ashamed for some reason. It took him a moment to realise why: as he'd stared at the big, handsome horse, he'd felt the stirrings of arousal. He immediately tried to tamp them down. This was his dad...sort of. Even if he wasn't exactly himself right now. He shouldn't feel attracted to him -- that was weird. But his body didn't seem to care for his mind's protestations. All it could see was a very large, attractive horse, and it had already been teased with thoughts of a horse that day. It wanted what it had been promised.
As if his horse-father could read his mind, the stallion took another sniff of the wolf, and took a few steps closer. The air wafted his scent towards Fenrir, and the wolf whined. Holy fuck...what was that? It didn't smell like his dad, or even other horses. It was something else entirely, something incredible, and seemed designed to go straight to his dick. He was powerless to stop his sheath from growing fatter, and for a peek of red canine dick to poke out into his underwear.
The horse knew. Somehow, he knew. His gaze locked onto the wolf's crotch, and he gave a nicker like an approaching thunderstorm. He took another few steps forward, and Fenrir slid back some more, fetching up against a tree. His heart was thudding in his chest again, but not from fear. His gaze was fixed on the stallion's eyes, but motion out of the corner of his eye made it drop to his furred crotch, and he stared -- agog -- at the sight of his stallion-father's penis emerging.
He'd seen horse dicks before, of course. Well -- just the one in person. But he'd seen them in porn a lot. He knew horses were big -- everyone did. That was their whole shtick. Big, dumb, and hung. But even so, their endowments were still generally appropriate for their size. Lance was just over six feet, and his dick couldn't be more than fourteen inches long. More than enough for a horny wolf to have fun with; fuck, more than enough for anyone, surely. What could you even do with more? So, by that scale, even at eight feet tall, this stallion's dick shouldn't have been more than a couple inches longer than Lance was. And yet...
Stallion-dad was fucking hung, and Fenrir loved it.
The cock slithered out into the utter silence that had fallen on the forest after the stallion's final triumphant cry. Every other living thing in range had either fled, or fallen silent. Even the wind had dropped; not a leaf moved in the surrounding trees. Fenrir's own shallow breathing was the loudest thing he could hear, as his eyes remained locked to the sight of the immense black beast that was dropping from the horse's crotch. It was as thick as the young wolf's arm -- maybe more. Veins curled around it like thin ropes, and a fat ridge along the upper half marked the medial ring. The flare was huge, even soft, and its weight tugged the mass straight down, parallel to the stallion's thigh. More, and more, and more dropped out...Fenrir shook his head a little in disbelief. Twenty inches? Twenty-two? The stallion had a monster dick, far beyond the norm, and when the wolf shifted, he realised that his pants had grown extremely tight from watching it. Fuck.
He'd gotten hard watching his father's stallion-transformed body start getting an erection -- but his father had gotten hard first, when he smelled his son's arousal. But he'd only gotten aroused because Dad...because the stallion was so handsome. So...were they even? Part of Fenrir's mind was telling him that this was getting too close to something he didn't want to do. He ignored it and listened to the part that was making his dick feel good. This wasn't even really Dad, if he thought about it. Dad was a nervous, middle-aged wolf with a highly specific medical problem. This...this was a huge, horny, stud stallion who already made Lance look like a fucking thirteen-year-old. And he wasn't done yet.
The horsecock was still thickening, and as it hardened, it rose. The fleshy pole grew erect, sticking out from the stallion's body nearly parallel to the ground, defying gravity, quivering whenever the horse twitched. The urethra was aimed directly at Fenrir now, like the barrel of a gun, and the wolf whimpered as he saw how big it was. How much did the stallion fucking cum to need a hole that big? Oh, fuuuuck...
And still not done.
The horse gave a very lupine growl, and his mouth formed into a snarl. He still had a wolf's teeth, it seemed: sharp white canines and terrifying incisors filled his mouth. Fenrir could see something swelling at his sheath -- and realised it was his sheath. The folds of skin became taut and shiny, holding something back, and seemed to be causing the horse discomfort. He snarled again, looking down at himself, seemingly unable to prevent whatever was happening. The sheath grew so tight that Fenrir was sure it was going to split open...until, with a deep sound of pleasure from the stallion, something gave. With a wet noise, an enormous bulb of obsidian flesh schlocked out of the sheath: even wider than the horse's flare, and glistening with fluids. A massive, bulbous canine knot. On a huge horse cock, dripping with pre-cum.
"Oh, fuck," Fenrir murmured in amazement and lust, and his cock spat a gush of musky pre-cum into his underwear.
The stallion's sense of smell must be preternatural. He whinnied instantly, and Fenrir's blood froze as the huge equine rushed forward, hands reaching for him. He was jerked upward by muscles far stronger than his own, and hands clawed at him, ripping clothes and scratching skin through fur. "D--Dad!" Fenrir whined, and the stallion paused, deep brown eyes fixing his own. Fenrir was startled: there was nothing in them that reminded him of his father. Was wolf-dad even still inside? Did this horse retain any memories of him, or was it just a huge, instinctual beast, seeking only to satiate whatever base desires were burning inside...?
His scent surrounded Fenrir, exquisite and alien to his sensitive nose. The stallion's fur was clean, but his skin was exuding musk as if soaked in it. He didn't smell like anything the wolf could remember. He smelled atavistic and primal. He smelled like ideas, not things: like lust, and need, and horniness. His cock smelled the most familiar: almost metallic, like the wolf's own dick, but overlaid with a thick and heady perfume that Fenrir wished he could smell every day for the rest of his life. When the stallion paused in his frenetic exertions, Fenrir took his chance. The wolf reached for the horse's muzzle, touching it awkwardly. The stallion snorted and froze, but didn't pull away. Fenrir bit his lip.
"Dad?" The mysterious eyes didn't move, but Fenrir imagined he saw a flicker, deep inside. "Dad..." His other hand dropped to grip the stallion's powerfully hard prick. It was as hot as fire. "Dad...I..." His hand slid up, along the dick, to the knot. He squeezed. "I want you."
Perhaps the words fell on deaf ears, or a mind empty of intellect. Perhaps the horse would have behaved the same, regardless. Fenrir would never know.
The stallion became a berserker. Hands clawed at the remaining shreds of clothing on Fenrir's body, hurling the scraps of fabric away. The young wolf was naked in seconds, crimson cock hard and eager in the warm afternoon air. The stallion's huge muzzle sniffed all around his body: armpits, crotch, cock, legs. He seemed to be looking for something. Only when Fenrir turned, tail eagerly lifted, did he find it. His nose pressed firmly to the wolf's tailhole, and the lupine gasped. "Oh, yes, Daddy," he murmured. He didn't care anymore if this even was his father. It didn't look like him. But maybe it was him. Who the fucked cared? He just wanted to be fucked, here and now, by the stallion's gorgeous dick -- and knot. Could he even fit that oversized cock inside himself? Yeah. Maybe. He'd fucking try his best. Lance could go fish; Fenrir was greedy, and he wanted this stallion's prick.
The horse was making him so fucking horny, and his smell was pushing away every reasonable thought in his head. The wolf needed him inside himself, right now.
"Fuck me already!" he yelled.
The horse sniffed at him some more, as if scenting his readiness, and then licked at the hole once or twice -- and that was it. He stood up again, and his body slammed into Fenrir's back, pressing the wolf hard against the tree in front as the apple-sized cockhead found the wolf's hole and rammed inside with all the mercy of a hammer blow.
Fenrir screamed, and for a second, he thought he'd made a terrible mistake. It hurt like shit. It was agony. His body felt split apart. The horse was far bigger than anything he'd taken before, and two licks were no replacement for lube. And he fucked so fucking fast; the wolf was given no time to relax or adjust. What felt like ten inches had just slammed directly into his ass; then half of it pulled out, and was replaced with twelve a second later. But then, impossibly, the pain faded; the wolf could actually feel it dissolving away, replaced by a coolness that must be the fluids the fat urethra leaked -- and then even that was overwhelmed by the incredible heat the stallion's flesh exuded. Fenrir gasped in shock at the suddenness change, and then simply groaned in pleasure. With the pain faded, all that remained was the amazing, heavy fullness inside his rear, and the feeling of his body spreading to accommodate it, and pressure against his belly every time the horse pushed forward.
The furiously rutting stallion couldn't be hilting yet; the wolf felt no knot against his body. But he was getting deeper on every rough thrust, and Fenrir moaned in delight to feel his belly distending outward, moulding itself to the horse's massive dick. Every thrust, a little deeper. His body was not at all prepared for such an invader, but the stallion made himself fit. Each deeper push was accompanied by a new stab of pain -- and then a soothing gush of the horse's pre-cum to make it fade. The stallion's head rested above his, and his grunts and heavy snorts were just as sexual as the dick buried inside the wolf. One hand rested on the wolf's shoulder, holding him in place, and the other rested on his side for leverage. His maddened fuck was making him sweat, and that glorious smell was the last straw to whatever token resistance Fenrir might have mounted. He couldn't stop this even if he wanted to, but now he never wanted it to end. The stallion could use him as a fuck-toy for the rest of time. He was okay with that. He let his body relax entirely, and the stallion sensed it, holding him tighter in his powerful grasp.
"Yes, Daddy, yes, yes, yes..." he moaned. Daddy or not, the stallion appeared to take his words as encouragement. His fucks increased in vigour and speed, pounding away at the wolf's utterly fucked, utterly willing tailhole, desperate to fit the rest of himself inside. Any part of Fenrir's body that wasn't touching the stallion prick was numb; the only sensations came from that fantastic equine member rubbing against his insides. "Oh, fuck, Daddy..." Fenrir groaned. "So big...fuck, I love your dick..." His belly grew and shrank, a faux pregnancy that repeated itself every second. "Come on, stud Daddy..." the wolf begged. "Come on...knot me...I want your knot...please, Daddy..."
The horse was expelling his breath on each thrust now with what sounded awfully like a lupine's whine. Fenrir could feel the transformed stallion's knot, now: a world of flesh, pushing against his tail and ass on each hilting. It couldn't fit. It was impossible. But it had to. He needed it, more than anything. The stallion's smell was in his nose, an aphrodisiac. His body surrounded him -- and filled him. His noises were bestial and passionate. Fenrir needed to be joined to this sexual powerhouse of a stallion in a way neither of them could forget.
"Harder, Daddy," he begged. "You can do it. Push harder...I want it...I can take it...fuck my ass, Daddy horse, and fucking knot me!"
The stallion screamed, his bellow deafening the wolf under him, and found new reserves of energy. He gave up on thrusting with his full tremendous length, and just smashed the knot against Fenrir's ultra-sloppy hole, slamming the wolf against the tree in turn as he made every effort to force his oversized equine knot inside him. Fenrir screamed in ecstasy, every nerve on fire with a pleasure that wiped his mind of any thought except more dick, more cock, more knot. He needed the knot to stay alive. He had to be knotted or he would die. The stallion just needed to fuck him harder, harder, so much harder...
His hole stretched wider, the knot inching closer to fitting through. The wolf cried out and pushed back desperately. This was the reason for his existence. It had to happen. He had to take the knot of this godlike stallion, to satiate his driving lust, his endless, irresistible maleness...
He and the horse screamed in unison when it popped in. Fenrir felt his body bulge around the new mass with a fullness he couldn't fully comprehend. His mind was on fire with pleasure. Seconds later, a whole new feeling joined it as the stallion began to orgasm. With his bitch knotted, it was time for the stud to breed. Searing hot cum spurted into Fenrir, making him cry out and weep, unable to process the onslaught of feelings. His belly grew again, but not only from cock now. The stallion's spurts were strong enough for the wolf to feel, and his legs quivered and gave out. Only the stallion's strong hands kept him upright. He reached for his own dick and barely stroked it before he blew, spraying the bark before him with his own semen. It was just another small supernova in the exploding galaxy of pleasure that his body had become the moment the stallion's oversized knot had melded them together.
The horse's orgasm lasted far beyond his own. He did not truly know when it ended; his consciousness went elsewhere for a while, to a plane of pure pleasure. When it drifted back down into his body, he was still pressed against the tree by the stallion's strength, and his ass was still full of the horse's fantastic knotted dick. He slid a hand down to feel his belly, and it gurgled as he prodded gently to feel the horse flare inside it, floating in a sea of cum. He stroked at it through his flesh, feeling its swollen size, and the stallion nickered.
"Oh, Daddy," the wolf sighed. "Why did you never tell me...you're fucking perfect..."
The horse said nothing.
It was another twenty minutes before the stallion could withdraw, and when he did, Fenrir's abused body expelled as much of the horse's seed as it could. A white waterfall burst from his asshole, and he moaned in delight at the sensation of his body slowly emptying of the transformed stallion's potent cum. Then the hands released him, and he slumped to the forest floor in the middle of a growing pool of still-warm, musky cum. As it slowly soaked into the surrounding ground, he let his head thump back against the tree. The stallion collapsed nearby too, panting, stretched out along the ground in exhaustion. Fenrir looked over and reached out a quivering paw to touch him.
"Daddy..."
He drifted off with the smell of stallion in his nose, and a warm and pleasant ache in his rear.
He dreamed he was rocking gently in a boat, and woke to find he was rocking gently in his horse-father's arms. Night had descended, and the stallion was carrying him like a baby out of the woods. He could see the light of houses ahead, through the trees, and he yawned. His father's grip was terribly firm, and wonderfully comfortable.
"Wakey, wakey," the stallion said, and Fenrir looked up at him in surprise.
"Dad!"
"Yes, that's me." The stallion smiled down at his son.
"You can talk!"
"Oh yes," his father replied pleasantly. "Since I was your age, if not younger."
The young wolf didn't know what to say to that. "No, I mean...you didn't. Um, before."
"You mean when...uh, in the woods?" They both blushed, and there was a short awkward silence before the horse spoke again. "I don't talk, normally. Only when it gets..." He waggled his head from side to side, eyes looking up. "I don't know how to explain it. Fixed in, I guess. Locked."
"Locked?"
"Yeah. I'm, uh..." The stallion paused, then shrugged. "I'm staying like this now. For good."
Fenrir considered that. "Because...we had sex?"
The horse sighed. "Yeah, it's...ugh, it's complicated, son." He furrowed his brow. "I'm sorry it came to this. I'm sorry it...happened like it did. I really thought we had it under control. I thought you were safe, but--"
"I'm not sorry," he said, interrupting. If anything, he was thrilled. "You're still my dad, right?"
"Yeah, of course!" The horse seemed shocked he'd even asked. "Always, Fenrir. You're my boy."
The wolf snuggled down into the warm hollow of his father's furred chest."Then it's fine. I don't care how you look."
"And...what about we did...?" the horse asked cautiously.
Fenrir perked one ear up. "Well...will we do it again?"
The big stallion looked discomfited. "I mean...I wasn't really in control then, and the change, you see, it makes you try to find a mate, so it's...I mean, I think, maybe, when you turned eighteen, some kind of hormonal trigger...perhaps scent, or proximity? But I mean, no, no. I'm better now, I won't make you...I mean, it's pheromones or some shit, makes you ultra-horny..."
"No, Dad," the wolf said, squeezing his father's arm to stop his explanatory gabbling. "I mean...can we do it again?"
The horse stopped walking and looked down at his son. A slow smile spread across his face, and he started walking again.
"Uh...yeah. Heh." The stallion had a massive, goofy grin on his face. "I think...I'd like that very much. Son."