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LYKOS

ALTERNATE UNIVERSE

(Texas Heat)

Written by Leo_Todrius and Tarus1111

Supported by my Patrons

_"Our lives are defined by choices and challenges, the actions that

determine which path our life takes. Resolve can be tempered like a

sword. Without some of our biggest battles, our commitment to the

path might waiver. Without the guiding hand of fate, one's life can

be left to the simple question - what if?"_

The long, meandering line of blinking orange lights stretched into obscurity, some in sequence and some discordant. They sat atop orange barrels arranged carefully to provide a semblance of order, but the steady magenta flame of road flares proved that nothing had gone according to plan. The colors were warnings, guides, indications that events had unfolded in a different way, and with the warning came miles and miles of backed up traffic.

Marco's foot slowly eased down on the break as he approached the gridlock, his eyes tinting just a bit amber as he looked up ahead. He reached over, a finger pressing the button to roll down the window. He tilted his head just a little to listen, utilizing his enhanced senses... He could hear the growl of rubber on asphalt behind him, not to mention the other side of the road, but something was missing... the sound of any movement up ahead. It was motionless, and it was likely to stay that way for some time.

The twenty year old's heart raced as he realized he was quickly approaching a moment of truth. There was a barrier keeping traffic from crossing over into the other direction so a U turn was out of the question, and the barriers started to segment off a lane of traffic in just a few hundred feet. The car accident had cut off another lane. Marco bore his teeth a little before he made a decision.

A quick indication of his turn signal warned the drivers coming up behind him that Marco was going to try something drastic. He pulled onto the shoulder, the black Mazda hatchback hugging the cement barriers, edging towards the start of the orange barrels before threading the needle between them. Marco heard a slight thump as he caught one barrel on the side panel, but better that than the cement barrier.

The car lurched a little as it hopped over the unfinished edge of the road, dropped down onto dirt and a bit of dried out grass. Marco prayed no police officer was watching as he bounced and shook his way over the median before he crossed over onto the side road that ran parallel to the highway. He quickly eased over onto the right side of the road and grinned a bit with his accomplishment. A quick look around provided reassurement that no one was following and no one was on the side road.

With a bit of a relieved sigh, Marco drove down the side road as it curved away from the highway. It was a radical decision, but a practical one at the same time. Being trapped on the road for hours would have been a waste of time and gas. Even if he didn't end up where he intended to be, he could find more interesting ways to pass the time until the roads were moving again.

Marco's eyes surveyed the road he followed, looking up to the sun faded, dust caked structures along the highway. There was an old school bus with painted over windows, a gas station that hadn't been open in years, some houses that were dubiously populated... Marco was fascinated to wonder how long these structures had been there, untouched, unaltered, existing. It felt like such a stark contrast to his own life. In just two years he'd gone to college, stopped an ancient spirit bent on world corruption, and become the alpha of all the werewolves in Echo Creek... and now he was going home for summer vacation - or at least to his parents' new home.

It was bittersweet. Marco had grown up in O'ahu, a tropical climate with nature's wonder and bountiful freedom. The atmosphere was carefree and compassionate. Now his dad had dragged his mom to Texas for a job for a company that had gone bankrupt after a fire had gutted its headquarters at the start of the year. It had been a mad scramble to find other work long enough to move back to Hawaii and in the meantime, Marco still needed some time with his parents. Still, he hoped they'd understand his detour.

After an uneventful year at college, Marco didn't mind the idea of a little adventure. He'd grown taller, hairier, a bit more manly. He'd told his mom he was gay, but neither of his parents knew he was a werewolf. It was one thing to keep rowdy wolves in line and another to be honest about his true self. Some small part of Marco wondered if that was one of the reasons he'd pulled off the road - delaying the inevitable.

Up ahead, the glint of metal caught Marco's attention, his eyes drawn to the side of the road. A broad, flat roofed building sat off to the side, as weathered as its neighbors but showing far more signs of life. A fleet of motorcycles were parked, glinting in the dusty haze of the afternoon sun. The chrome was polished, the bodies well tended, the tires road worn but with a lot more miles left on them. There were a few trucks as well, some bigger than others.

A slight smile crossed Marco's lips. Before being bitten, the idea of a biker bar would have made him think twice, but now? He was twenty, big and bearded. He couldn't drink legally, but he could order some food. He could look the part well enough, and maybe he'd get a good story out of it. Once more the turn signal started to flash as the black hatchback pulled into the parking lot, sidling up into a spot between an F150 and a Harley Davidson Road King.

Marco put the car into park, turning the keys until the engine fell silent. He could feel the change immediately. No vibration, no movement. The car started to slowly cool down, no longer generating its own heat to add to the warmth of the metal from the sun. Marco looked up at the door to the bar. He was probably overthinking it... It was just a little bar in the middle of nowhere, over an hour from any big city. Most likely it'd just be a place to grab a bite to eat and text his parents that he'd be late - but some small part of him felt like he was on the edge of an adventure, all he had to do was take the first step.

****

A slight groan echoed from the hinges of the door to the bar as it opened, giving the patrons a slight warning before a column of afternoon light cut into the dim haze that filled the establishment. Marco stood outside, the silhouette of the broad shouldered, bearded man shrouded by an aura of citrine making an impression. As Marco stepped over the threshold he felt a slight pressure on his skin and smelled a familiar tang of ozone in the air. It was the unmistakable, slightly unnatural feeling he'd had when interacting with keeper magic in the box canyon. By the time Marco had put the two thoughts together, he realized that all eyes in the bar were on him.

It had become immediately apparent that Marco had not stepped into a rinky dink dive bar in the middle of nowhere with just a few loyal bar flies. The bar stools were full, the booths were occupied, and nearly everyone was a prime embodiment of the concept of masculinity. Marco had expected to blend in, but the patrons occupying the bar far surpassed him. They were taller, wider, stronger and hairier. They were tattooed, pierced, covered in leather, and several showed the telltale signs of lycanthropy...

Marco's heart fluttered a bit as he looked around, seeing the gleam of amber eyes, pointed ears, claws and swollen brow bones... but these weren't just werewolves, this was a biker gang of werewolves. Beer was being consumed by the pitcher, the pool table had claw marks and the air was full of the scent of beings straddling the edge between humanity and the animal kingdom. Even the individuals near the back that Marco assumed were keepers had a significant amount of muscle on them.

The fact that a stranger had crossed the barrier had surprised the bar's occupants, meaning that another werewolf had somehow wandered into the heart of their territory. It could have been a moment of tension if not outright violence, but something was holding them back and keeping their instincts in check.

Only one person had not turned to acknowledge the intruder, a figure seated at the bar, dressed in torn up jeans and a black denim vest that exposed very muscled arms painted with a mural of intricate tattoos. His bare scalp glistened in the dim light of the bar, and large gold rings hung from ears that were distinctly pointed. He had not twitched when Marco entered, but to assume he was unaware would have been a grave miscalculation.

Marco met the gaze of the leader, not directly, but in the mirror hanging behind the bar. The eyes looking back at him were the color of raw, natural honey. The face looking back at Marco was a contradiction of experience and vitality, of someone still in their prime and yet with the advantages of age. A few wrinkles adorned his terra-cotta toned forehead like a crown, tarnished with a bit of dust from the road, and his face was framed with a full, lush beard that descended down to an unseen point below the edge of the bar. It was jet black save for two streaks of silver that ran down from the corners of his mouth, diffusing into the beard over all.

The moment hung in limbo before the leader reached out with a clawed hand and patted the bar stool next to him. The other patrons watched in wonder, but Marco knew he'd stepped into a wolf den and the best strategy seemed to be accepting the hospitality of his hosts. Marco moved over and sat down at the bar, feeling the well used seat of the stool accept his posterior, looking back up at the reflection above the bar.

It was almost, in some ways, like a lens of time. Marco was half the age of the werewolf next to him. They both shared some Hispanic heritage and Marco's thick black beard was over six inches long now. They both had more than their fair share of muscles, though Marco's black t-shirt and blue jeans seemed to be a better fit for the city than the biker bar. Marco looked at the other werewolf directly, seeing a slight swelling of his orbital bones around his eyes, a flare of his nostrils... the wolf was constantly peeking through.

"Where are you from, kid?" The man asked, raising two clawed fingers. The bartender started to fill two more pitchers of beer, the golden liquid splashing into the glass, a thick head of foam rushing to the top. Marco was a little taken aback at being called a kid, but then again he was the youngest one there.

"My pack's from Colorado, I'm here to visit my family." Marco replied. It was a deliberate response, indicating a lack of threat but also a purpose. The leader smiled a bit, turning to look at Marco directly for the first time. He took a few sniffs of the air, a pierced eyebrow arching upwards as his smile grew more.

"Oh yes, you're an Alpha... How big is your pack?" he asked. Marco grinned a little.

"My personal pack, or my campus pack?" Marco asked, readjusting himself to take up a bit more space. The leader chuckled at that and brought an arm to slap across Marco's shoulders as he nodded.

"Fair, fair." he chuckled as the bartender set down one pitcher in front of him and the other in front of Marco. Marco tensed a little.

"I'm not twenty one yet." he admitted. The leader looked almost disappointed.

"Come on, you can handle a pack of rowdy college aged werewolves. I'm sure they're not all waiting until they're twenty one. Share with me! But... it would be rude not to introduce myself. I am Carlos Cahue, Alpha of the Texas Hellhounds. This is most of my pack." he said, guiding his hand around the bar. Even the bartender had teeth that looked a bit too long, peeking out from a smile rimmed by a blond mustache that connected to mutton chops.

"My name is Marco Iona." Marco answered, feeling a little lackluster without a title. In the corner of the room, a younger man in his late twenties sat up a bit straighter. His blond hair was swept back in waves across the top of his head, the sides shaved in a fade that showed off the numerous silver rings running down the back of his ears.

"Of Echo Creek..." the keeper commented. Carlos grinned a little.

"So you have a reputation?" The Alpha asked.

"He took down the beast that caused the Direwolf resurgence during the eclipse." the keeper said. Carlos murmured a little at that.

"And you became the Alpha of a whole college worth of werewolves? You have any pups of your own yet?" he asked. Marco blushed.

"I'm... gay, and the school's all boys." Marco said. Carlos grinned a little more and gestured to his pack.

"If you haven't noticed, we're all boys too..." Carlos said. Marco looked up and around in surprise before looking back at the Alpha.

"I just thought..." Marco trailed off, "Really?"

"Oh yes, really. Nothing to tie us down, just the road, our hogs and each other. It's liberating, but I'd think you'd know that. So the question is, did you make any pups of your own yet?" Carlos asked. Marco shook his head.

"I've recruited. I took on an Omega that became a Beta, added some wolves to my own personal pack... Gotten pretty close with a lot of the wolves on campus." Marco said. Carlos growled in contentment.

"It's amazing, isn't it? Feeling that connection between you and the pack. The more they love you, the more there is to love. Bigger, stronger, more manly... Then you can return that power to them and it just gets better. It's exhilarating." Carlos whispered. Marco huffed a soft breath, feeling his cock hardening in his pants at the thought.

"It is, but it can feel like a lot sometimes. The beast wants to take over, wants to be an animal." Marco said. Carlos nodded a little.

"Let it." he replied simply, lifting his pitcher to take a long drink, the foam kissing his mustache as the liquid ran down his throat. Marco was a bit wide eyed.

"If I let it, I won't be me anymore." Marco replied. Carlos chuckled, setting his pitcher down, looking at Marco again. He reached out, running a hand down the edge of Marco's thick beard.

"Did you grow this on your own?" Carlos asked. Marco grimaced a little. Carlos lowered his hand, cupping Marco's meaty pec. Marco's nipple went hard instantly, "Or this?" he asked, his hand lowering to rest on Marco's lap before he grinned, "Well, maybe you grew this on your own... but still. You were bitten. You stopped being just you at that moment. You became something else. You are man and you are beast. You are both together in one body. You can't chain the beast up or it will try even harder to escape, and then you really will be lost."

There was near silence in the bar, save for some slightly lewd sounds coming from one of the booths as the visage of an Alpha feeling up another Alpha proved to be too much for some of the Hellhounds. The air was growing thicker with pheromones and Marco was starting to feel a little dizzy, almost as if he'd already had some of the massive pitcher of beer placed before him. Marco looked into Carlos' eyes, his own shifting to the intense amber.

"I'm no beta to claim." he replied, a bit of grit in his voice as his teeth sharpened. Carlos nodded in approval.

"I'm not here to claim you. I'm here to help you become what you were meant to be." Carlos said, starting to roll his hand back and forth over Marco's erection as it snaked down the length of his thigh, growing thicker and fuller.

"What was I meant to be?" Marco asked. Carlos inched closer, Marco feeling the Alpha's breath blasting against his mustache and his beard.

"You are going to be like me... A daddy wolf, ready to make pups of his own. You won't just be an Alpha of a big pack for four years. You're going to be an Alpha for life." Carlos whispered before he leaned in, pressing his lips to Marco's, embracing him. Marco growled and snarled, but didn't pull back. In moments their beards were meshing together, their lips wrestling, their tongues soon batting at one another.

It was like electricity arcing out from Marco, a different kind of intensity. It wasn't romance or love, it was pure lust. It was the pack connection, the werewolf bond, the power he shared with Liam or Kieran or any of the other wolves on campus that deserved the affection of their Alpha apart from any human trappings - but this was different. This was a meeting of two powerhouses, two Alphas on equal terms, and Carlos was willing to share his experience, his power, his manliness... Marco wasn't sure what it would mean to be a werewolf daddy, but the idea was tantalizing enough that he couldn't wait to find out.

****

From the front, the Hellhound's bar had been quiet and unassuming. Part of that had been intentional, part of it might have been Keeper magic. As Marco headed down the hall, past the kitchen and bathroom and a few rooms converted into living spaces, he was impressed how much of a home the wolves had made. The back door groaned a little as it opened, allowing Carlos to lead Marco out into an open air covered area.

The back of the building had been extended out with a corrugated metal roof and cement walls on either side. Milky translucent plastic strips hung down along the back, allowing air to flow and motorcycles to come and go without the need for garage doors. A few bikes were being worked on off to one side in an area converted to be a garage, while the closer edge had large mattresses spread out. Even with the open air, Marco could smell heat and rut in the air.

"You live free, don't you?" Marco asked. Carlos grinned at that and nodded.

"We live as we like... A balance. It's so much easier when you don't have to fight it." Carlos said, reaching down to rub Marco's pert, muscular ass, "I bet you'd like to live free with some of your betas, right? Bring out the best in them?" Carlos asked. Marco nodded at that.

"Yeah... They deserve so much. I want to be the best Alpha I can for them." he replied. Carlos nodded at that.

"You already are. You care, you love... But you're going to be even better. You just have to embrace the Papi in you." Carlos said. Marco looked back at the Alpha. He exuded so much testosterone, it was hard to imagine matching that. He shrugged a little.

"I'm just a college kid." Marco said. Carlos shook his head.

"No, you're not... You've already grown, right? Bigger, taller, stronger... You've got this power. Just with your thoughts and beliefs and trust you make your wolves bigger and stronger and they do the same for you. But there's something else, you have the power to make more... You have the power to make your own pups, to turn wolves, to make life." Carlos whispered. Marco hesitated.

"But the curse, one of us, one of them or not at all... I haven't bitten anyone." Marco said. Carlos reached out, resting his clawed hand on Marco's shoulder, rubbing it back and forth, trying to reassure him.

"That's why you only turn someone when it's right. When they long for it more than life, when they have nothing else to choose, when it could save their life. But that power is in you, to create..." Carlos whispered, leaning close, licking Marco's ear, "You are more than just an Alpha. You are a big strong daddy that's going to help your boys grow up to be men." Carlos whispered. Marco's eyes fluttered shut, feeling that hot, thick tongue.

"I'm going to help them grow up to be men..." Marco whispered back. Carlos grinned, tracing his fangs across Marco's neck, moving to nuzzle his beard.

"You're a big, strong daddy..." Carlos whispered. Marco's lips quirked a bit as his erection grew more urgent.

"I'm a big, strong daddy..." He replied. Carlos growled happily, reaching to unbutton Marco's pants, slipped the zipper down, then the underwear. His clawed hands slipped in, wrapping around Marco's shaft, squeezing and rubbing it before drawing it out. His hand started to slide back and forth, feeling how big Marco was already.

"You're a beast, a king, you're a Papi ready to make pups." Carlos said. Marco's breathing was growing more intense, his chest rising with each breath, although it didn't fall back all the way. Each breath was making him just a bit bigger, a bit broader. His muscles were heating up, his shoulders stretching wider. Carlos grinned wider, moving to lick the upper edge of Marco's cheeks as new hairs pushed out of the skin, the beard claiming more of his face.

The fire was burning in Marco, spreading outward. It was in his chest, his cock, his ass and his spine. He felt Carlos working his cock, but it felt different. It wasn't a matter of dominance or submission. It was introspection, thought, mind over matter. Carlos took his free hand, catching the collar of Marco's shirt with a claw before drawing it down. The fabric stretched and then frayed before it split out, the cotton retracting.

"Every part of you is built to sire your young. You have so much cum, even your blood broils with life." Carlos whispered. Marco's lips curled more as he growled, feeling his balls starting to throb and ache and swell, his sack hanging lower, spreading wider as thicker, softer fur began to spread across it. Marco's eyes opened, gleaming with amber light as he looked at Carlos and how just his words and touch were having such a profound effect on him.

"I..." Marco started to speak but hesitated. He was scared, intimidated, and yet turned on. He looked at this Alpha who wasn't trying to take him, he was trying to help him. He wanted to bring out Marco's potential and Marco could share that with his pack... He could share it with Yom and Udo and Fletcher, Duncan and Liam and Kieran, all the other wolves. They would be his for more than just college. He'd always be their Alpha, their sire, their daddy.

"That's it..." Carlos whispered, jerking Marco off harder, feeling his cock swelling wider and wider, fatter and broader, spreading out across his lap to make a true anchor before blood rushed in, making it redder and redder. The head began to stretch and contort, taking on a point with a subtle curve, shifting to resemble a hot pepper more than a mushroom.

"I'm a daddy..." Marco said, his voice deepening a little as his nipples darkened and his pectorals thickened. Hair sprouted between them before softening into fur, downy and long. More hair started to grow from the back of his elbows in little tufts. Even the tips of his ears got fuzzy as they pushed into points. Marco growled, starting to thrust into Carlos' hand.

"You're a beast, a king, you're a powerhouse. You're going to transform your men, and you're going to claim new sons." Carlos whispered. Marco growled more at that, his teeth sharpening into fangs, taking up more of his mouth. He panted hard, groaning as his balls kept swelling, stretching to the size of oranges. His shoes groaned and strained before stitches popped, rubber tore, leather split and clawed toes burst free, his feet pushing well beyond the confines of his former protection.

Marco panted hard, his ears pushing into elfin points, the orbital bones around his eyes swelling thicker. His eyebrows got bushy, his entire face throbbing. He threw his head back, panting harder and harder, his ears now fully covered in fur, fully wolfen. Carlos leaned in, licking his bare neck, grazing his fangs across the skin until it stung. He pinched Marco's nipple and watched the nub grow fatter and thicker in response, molding it almost like clay.

"You're so close, Marco. You'll never be a boy again. You're a man, a beast, a monster, a ruler, a daddy..." Carlos whispered, moving to suck and nibble on his neck. Marco's face erupted into a fire of tingling and stinging. His follicles were in overdrive. It was so intense it was almost painful, but the pleasure far outmatched it. It felt as if there was a breeze blowing against his beard, but there was no wind in the garage. It was all him.

At first it had been subtle, but soon it was anything but. Marco's black mustache had been trimmed to stay clear of his mouth, but the hair grew longer, thicker and denser. It curved downward, obscuring his upper lip, almost threatening to hide his lower lip. The hair that covered his upper cheeks had been a start, but the most intense changes had come from his jaw and his throat.

Marco huffed and growled more, thrusting furiously into Carlos' hand. He had experienced rapid changes before, feeling the power of the pack coursing through him, but this was a different kind, a different flavor of energy. This wasn't the power of a subordinate, this was the power of an equal, a peer, recognizing him for what he was. Marco groaned, his cock still swelling larger, fatter and thicker than it had ever been before in his life. His balls swung low, but it was his face that was on fire.

Carlos watched his pupil accept his place as a real Alpha, a creator, a leader, a father figure. He groaned, feeling his own erection throb with envy and admiration for how Marco was changing. Every inch the young man gained in height, every pound he stacked on in muscle, Carlos felt like he was reliving his own ascension... but his favorite part had to be the beard Marco was sporting - a beard that was growing by the second.

It hadn't taken Marco long after he had bitten to grow out his beard. After his first year, he'd devoted himself to letting it grow longer. Yom adored his beard, and the two had a sort of unspoken bond to let it grow and grow... but what Marco had cultivated on his own was nothing compared to what he was growing now. The hair was thick and bushy, full of volume, stretching out wider and longer at the same time. It was dense enough that it obscured his throat, soft enough that Carlos' breaths made it wave and shift ever so slightly.

Marco had come to learn how much more sensitive a werewolf's body was than a human's. Every touch, every nuance was enhanced. Sex felt amazing, but even the slightest touch could be exhilarating... but Marco could not get over how amazing his face felt. The heft, the weight, the mass of his beard create this constant buzzing pleasure that was almost as good as having a hard on. He felt like a true man, and it only intensified as the beard reached his collar bone, then sunk down lower and lower, pushing out wider than his ears.

Carlos growled happily, reaching up, dipping his clawed fingers into Marco's beard. He used them to comb through the hair, brushing it out, letting it unfurl to its fullest. Marco snarled, his fangs growing thicker, his canine cock starting to dribble thick, potent pre. He was on the verge, at a turning point. He was embracing his new body fully. Carlos knew it was time. He nodded his head to two of the other wolves that had gathered. They moved forward.

For a moment Marco heard the electric buzz, a quick oscillation that set his senses on edge, but then he felt Carlos' magnificent lips against his, his tongue intruding, their beards pressing together. Marco grabbed onto Carlos' head, kissing him, making out, giving into the carnal pleasure. One hand dipped down, making sure nothing kept Carlos' cock from him until soon the two Alphas were pressing their groins together, grinding their meat, lost in their own bliss... at least until the first few hunks of hair began to fall to the garage floor.

At first it felt almost like the familiar tingle that came from his beard growth, but as Marco figured out what was happening, it was quite the opposite. Long locks of sleek black hair rained down across his shoulders before landing in heaps on the floor. Marco's eyes snapped back open as he felt the clippers moving along his scalp, rounding his ear, shearing away. Marco's muscles tensed, but Carlos grabbed onto him, steadying him.

The two looked at each other, eye to eye, and Marco started to understand. It was the way a daddy looked, the way Carlos looked... All of the focus would be on his magnificent beard if he didn't have hair on his head. Marco stopped resisting and moved back to kiss Carlos, softly and tenderly at first until the heat built again, rising into an insatiable fire. The other wolves shaved one side of Marco's head, then the other, letting the long central mane linger as a punk sort of look for just a moment before that too was culled.

Marco may have only been twenty years old, but he had the beard worthy of someone much older and his head was bare and exposed, the cinnamon toned skin unused to seeing the kiss of sunlight but still blending well enough with the rest of his face. Marco grunted hard, feeling Carlos' slippery pre start to ooze out over his lap, and then he felt the other wolves still attending to him, doing something else.

There was a cool sting as something was spread across his freshly shaved skull, a keeper's mix of herbs and substances. It took care of the last stubble of hair and sank into the skin, making it toughen up and glisten, letting it heal. Marco inhaled sharply at that, looking at Carlos. The elder Alpha sucked Marco's bottom lip, giving it a playful tug before he released. He reached up, running his clawed hand across Marco's shaved head.

"Now there's a handsome papi... All your boys will envy how manly you are, wanting to grow stronger just by being in your presence, by drinking your seed, by getting filled by your mammoth meat. You are the perfect daddy basting in all this Texas heat." Carlos whispered. The words were powerful, potent, and so much more than Marco had intended. As he looked up, he caught sight of himself in the mirror... a beard down to his nipples, a head clean and spotless, pectorals bigger than any flank of meat, and a cock that was so hard, so full, and so lycan that he doubted it would ever return to normal.

Marco looked at the man he had become, knowing this was his new self. He'd never go back, he'd never be that boy again. He'd only get stronger, bigger, hairier, and more manly, and he'd make his pups that way too. The younger Alpha threw his head back, let his lips part and he howled as his huge cock unleashed potent, thick jets of yellowed werewolf cum. His voice filled the garage and echoed outward. Carlos threw his head back, splaying his arms wide, joining Marco in his howl. It was the call of the wild.

****

A beautiful sunset of gold, pink, and purple weaved across the summer sky as the sun began its descent in the evening sky. Vincent felt the warmth from the lingering sun across his tawny brown skin as he walked out of Burdine Hall and down the path that lead through the campus of Cypress Ridge University. The campus was a mix of man made structures and natural foliage, large sections of trees and grass interspersed among the large buildings. The sun slipped behind the taller buildings on campus, casting shadows across the ground that were slowly elongating as it dipped lower in the sky.

The warm wind blew through Vincent's dark brown hair as he walked, and he reached his hand up to brush it back. He had on a bright blue and white striped shirt, some dark jeans, and a pair of worn sneakers. Vincent pushed his metal-frame glasses up his nose and paused in front of the Sutton building, the towering administrative building that overlooked the quad. A few students were lounging around or tossing a football around, spending some time outside of a classroom for a few hours while the sun was still out.

The university was quieter than usual since summer classes had begun. Most of the students had moved out at the end of the semester, and there were only a few students like Vincent that had decided to stay for summer classes. His first year had been a tough transition, but he had grown to enjoy the independence that being away from home afforded him and decided to stick around to get ahead of his coursework.

It had been a bit of a surprise to his parents that he wouldn't be coming home, especially since his best friend Spencer was moving back for the summer. His parents had eventually relented, knowing they had no right to make decisions for him anymore. Vincent had to fend for himself now, and he was determined to make the most of the newfound independence he had obtained. Being on his own was something he needed.

Even when it was just him and Spencer, Vincent had kept to himself and fallen into his comfortable tendencies. He hadn't taken the opportunity to get outside of his comfort zone, meet any new people, or explore any of the stores or restaurants off-campus. He'd always chosen convenience over adventure. That was something he wanted to change, and he was finally ready to make that happen. He had stashed his backpack in his room and set off into the evening, ready to try something new.

The other students had always called it 'the bubble effect'. Cypress Ridge had everything anyone could need, allowing students to be self sufficient with the perfect blend of amenities and facilities. It was such a compounded feeling that even coming up to the edge of campus gave Vincent the feeling of an adventure. A line of hedges and low branched trees created a natural barrier at the farthest edge of campus, beyond which was Houston.

Stepping through the hedges was like stepping into another world. The sound of traffic, of people on their phones, of people living life. The cars swept by in a dizzying flurry of colors. Crosswalk signs gleamed brightly. Even the horizon was decorated by the jagged haphazard skyline that Vincent had come to know. A few highschoolers walked past Vincent, their hair bright shades of neon green and purple respectively. He never would have considered coloring his hair when he was their age, but seeing them confidently wearing the bright colors made him wish they could share some of that self-confidence with him.

The crosswalk sign changed and Vincent made his way across the street. He was just a block from campus and already everything around him felt different and exciting. There were stores and restaurants all around him that he never would have known were just a short walk away. He looked through the wide storefront windows as he passed, seeing groups of students eating and shopping, enjoying time with each other. Vincent was disappointed that he had never gone out with Spencer, but this could be a good scouting mission for when Spencer got back to school.

Vincent walked down a few more blocks, searching for a good restaurant to have a bite to eat. He pulled out his phone to try and find a good place nearby. A highly-rated barbecue restaurant called The Pit caught his attention and it was only a few blocks away. He made note of the directions and put his phone back into his pocket, continuing his walk. The further Vincent got away from the campus, the more the streets were filled with new and interesting people. Being around more people made him realize why he hadn't ever ventured out on his own before. He had always been afraid of being somewhere new where the chances of getting lost was high, especially with large groups of strangers around. But he choked down the fear and kept walking. He was intent on shedding the anxiety and nerves that had always been a part of him and wanted to enjoy this adventure to the fullest.

So much of Houston was made up in sleek sharp angles and smooth edifices of cement and glass, but as he came up on the corner of the street, Vincent saw that The Pit had held on to a more rustic, rugged aesthetic. The bricks were thick and the door looked well used, scuffed around the knob and on the baseboard. With some trepidation and reluctance, Vincent took a hold of the knob and opened himself up to a new experience.

As soon as Vincent walked into The Pit, the delicious aroma of smoked meat enveloped him. The decor had an old-town, vintage vibe to it that made Vincent feel like he had been transported out of the city and into the countryside. Wood dominated the interior, covering most of the walls except for one that showed off the exposed brick underneath. All of the tables and chairs were handcrafted and looked robust and sturdy. There was even the faint scent of cedar wood shavings in the air, though there was no clear source.

There were quite a few patrons in the restaurant, but thankfully Vincent seemed to have arrived before the dinner crowd. There were a few people waiting in line to order, which gave him a bit of time to read the menu and decide what he was going to get. Even the menu looked carefully hand drawn with chalk on blackboard with artful flourishes. When it was his turn, Vincent stepped up to the counter and a man not much older than him with a thick mustache was ready to take his order.

"What'll you be havin'?" the cashier asked, his southern drawl adding to the ambiance. Vincent looked up at the menu again to consider his order one last time before he answered.

"I'll take one of your brisket sandwiches with a side of mac and cheese and fried okra and... a sweet tea to drink." Vincent said. The cashier nodded, placing the order into the register. Vincent paid for his meal and was handed his drink and a number for his order.

He looked around and grabbed a seat at the bar in front of the large pane glass window looking out onto the street. When he had left campus, it had felt like late afternoon, but the true time had crept up on him. The sky was growing darker, becoming a vibrant navy blue with the moon looming over the city. Groups of people walked past as he sat there, friends having fun and laughing and others, like him, who were out alone.

The faintest hint of stars poked through the curtain above the city as the gleaming lights of the skyscrapers snapped on, trying to outshine nature herself. The minutes passed as Vincent waited for his food, and he could feel the nature of the crowds on the other side of the glass changing. There were fewer and fewer children, fewer parents. More adults mixed in, more college students, people living their own lives coming to and fro.

His number was eventually called, and Vincent grabbed his tray from the counter and brought it back to his seat. He took a bite of his sandwich and the delicious taste of the charred, smokey brisket mixed with the sweetness of barbecue sauce and the sour bite of pickle filled his mouth. They all coalesced into a wonderful experience and he couldn't help but take another bite. The mac and cheese was gooey and stringy and the fried okra crunchy and nutty, both exceptional. The meal was well worth the restaurant review.

As Vincent enjoyed his dinner, the sun reluctantly finished its descent, leaving the sky dimmed by night but shrouded in the glow of Houston's city lights. With the last few bites of his meal consumed, Vincent realized just how many more patrons had entered over the course of his meal. The whole experience had been captivating enough to blind him to his surroundings, but the food was done and so there was no excuse to linger. With a quick stop at the counter to pay his bill, it was easy enough to extract himself, stepping out of the restaurant and into the warm evening.

Where once he would have been anxious about being in the city alone at night, Vincent stood on the sidewalk with newfound confidence. The dark street didn't seem as scary anymore, and each step back toward campus was a new reminder at just how energized and excited he was feeling. Now that he had gone out and seen some of the city, the next time would be even easier. He had to keep up the momentum, continue to explore and get further accustomed to his surroundings. That was the only way he'd eventually get over his fear.

The carnelian glow of the street lights washed over Vincent as he walked along the road. Seeing the city at night, doused in shadow and darkness, was a much different experience than he had ever known. The number of people on the street started to dwindle as he got closer to the school. Groups of students were making their way back to campus, returning to their homework and responsibilities for another day of classes. A block from campus, Vincent turned down a side street that would lead him closer to his dorm. It was a different way than he had come before, and he found himself passing by a large park.

Vintage street lamps dotted the path leading into the park, inviting Vincent into the quiet darkness. He stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and looked down the street, seeing his dorm building in the distance poking out over the trees. He still had some time before it got too late and nowhere in particular to be at the moment. A stroll through the grass would be a good way to end his day.

The park itself had been a relic of the city's earlier days, when it had been a gathering spot for mixed use activities. Some of it was cultivated and refined with criss-crossing pathways and a meandering access road, as well as a covered area providing shelter to picnickers in case the weather ever grew uncertain. The rest was dotted with trees, shrubs and an assortment of greenery. During the day it was a splendor, during a hot night... it seemed a bit wild.

Somewhere in the distance, Vincent heard the tsch-tsch-tsch of sprinklers keeping the green space green. There was a rustle of the branches in the wind, even a few nocturnal scurryings of animals not yet fully committed to bedding down for the night. In the dark and away from the noise of the street, Vincent's seemed to pick up on his surroundings more than usual.

Vincent moved further down the path, surrounding himself in the strange beauty of greenery and nature in the middle of a big city. Ahead of him, a swarm of fireflies twinkled and glowed over the grass. He stood there, watching them flicker around, mesmerized by their movements before he sat down on a nearby bench. The fireflies served as a substitute for the stars that were missing in the night sky. The light pollution from the city obscured the celestial bodies, leaving the moon as the only thing remaining.

It was pure serenity, absolute peace, a moment floating in time where Vincent's senses could reach out into the night... and hear things just a bit further away than he normally did. There was one sound discordant with his surroundings, one sense that didn't quite belong. It was almost artificial, the sound of metal on metal, unusual, regular, steady. Vincent looked around, trying to find where the sound was coming from. He stood up and walked toward the rhythmic grumbling.

One of the last things that Vincent expected to see in the park was a huge, rugged, beastly looking motorcycle. Even at night, the chrome was doing its best to glisten and shine, contrasting the dust kissed shell of the bike. Sitting on top of the behemoth like a cowboy riding a mechanical steed was perhaps the largest man Vincent had ever seen with his own eyes. It almost seemed like some kind of optical illusion, the bike and the rider seeming further away because of their size compared to their surroundings.

Marco had gone without a helmet, letting the warm wind blow over his smooth skull on his ride before he'd finally taken a break in the park. His beard only seemed fuller, blasted by the air as he'd ridden into town. He wore one of Carlos' old vests, showing off his thick, hairy chest. His powerful arms were exposed, one of them christened with a new geometric tattoo around his right bicep. The ink seemed to almost shift back and forth from black to a deep blood red and back as his body tried to heal over the tattoo but interacted with the keeper's unique mix of ink.

Hazel eyes tinged with just a bit too much honey swept across the grass before locking onto Vincent, a slight curious quirk crossing Marco's lips. Just a few days prior he might have looked to Vincent as a peer, a fellow college student, but now? Now Marco was a predator, a daddy wolf in need of siring some pups. There was something about Vincent that stood out to Marco, something that set him apart... or maybe something that reminded Marco of himself, how he'd been just two years before. Vincent walked over to the man and his roadhog, in awe of both fine specimens.

"Dude, that's an awesome motorcycle!" Vincent said, approaching Marco. "How long have you had it?" Marco smiled, enjoying the kid's energy. He swung one strong, powerful leg over the side of the bike, turning to face him.

"Not too long, I was lucky. Made some new friends, got into riding. It's been a wild ride so far." Marco said, spreading his legs a bit, revealing a bulge in his jeans as he looked Vincent over with almost a bit of hunger, "So, what about you? Do you have a fascination with motorcycles?" Vincent blushed at Marco's overt gesture.

"More of a curiosity than anything." Vincent answered. "My uncle used to have a hefty bike that I liked, but I never got to take a ride on it because my parents were afraid I'd get hurt. Yours looks like it's seen its fair share of adventure."

"It's looking to have even more, and if you've never ridden before, now is your chance." Marco said with a grin, scooting back on the bike, patting the seat in front of him as he looked deep into Vincent's eyes. Vincent gazed back at Marco, his heart beating faster in his chest. All night he had been searching for adventure, hoping to break out of his shell, and now an opportunity like this presented itself to him. He couldn't pass up the chance to make the change he wanted. Vincent smiled and nodded, moving closer to the bike.

Marco gave a slight, nearly silent growl of appreciation as he lifted his leg back over the bike and settled back, giving Vincent a space in front of him. He leaned back just enough to give him room to sidle onto the mount. It felt almost too easy, but Vincent was this delicious contradiction. Marco could smell his thrill and his concern at the same time, making a very unique flavor that he couldn't pull back from.

Vincent pulled himself onto the bike, jumping a bit to get onto the towering beast of a machine. He settled into the leather seat and gripped onto the sturdy handlebars, feeling excitement and energy coursing through his blood. He felt Marco's looming presence behind him and felt his proud bulge pressing against his posterior. Vincent was getting a little hard, himself, everything around him filling him with an electric thrill.

He had always considered himself open to any possibility when it came to his sexuality in high school, and knew that college would be a good place to test those waters and find out what he liked. Right now, though, Vincent liked having a powerful man sitting behind him who was about to take him on the ride of his life.

"The first step is easy enough..." Marco said, scooting in a little closer so he was resting up against Vincent's back, feeling how youthful and fit he was. Marco smiled a bit more, "Turn the key there... Make sure it's in neutral, then squeeze the clutch with your left hand." Marco said, his breath hot on Vincent's shoulder. Vincent did as he was told, going through the motions. As he squeezed the clutch into place, Marco leaned forward to press a button on the right side and the motorcycle roared to life. The growl of the engine vibrated through Vincent's bones, and he instantly felt more powerful.

"I turned it on! Now what do I do?" Vincent asked, looking back at Marco. Marco stayed close, his groin resting against Vincent's ass, the vibration ripping through both of their bodies. Marco inhaled Vincent's scent, looking him over.

"That depends on where you want to go in life. Do you want to keep playing it safe, or do you want a life a bit more ambitious?" Marco asked, moving to kiss Vincent's neck softly, feeling the animal in him growing hungrier by the second. Vincent gasped as he felt Marco's hot lips on his neck. The sensation was electric, his body tingling with anticipation.

"All my life I've kept myself hidden away in fear of the unknown, secluded from anything that might bring me harm." Vincent said. "But I've missed out on too much in life and now I'm ready to change, to wander into the unknown in search of adventure and excitement."

"I can give you that gift, I can give you an adventure, a new life, a fearless heart... But it'll change everything. There's no going back... You'll be like me... in every way." Marco whispered, his hand slipping over Vincent's stomach and up his shirt, fingers tracing across his stomach. Vincent felt Marco's erection go very much past mild arousal, and he even felt the sharp grazing of teeth across his neck. Marco had his prey, he had no intention of letting go unless he had to.

"I want all that," Vincent moaned, "Once you show me how to live life to its fullest, how to be as fearless and powerful as you are, I would never want to go back to the way I was before. I want to blossom, to evolve, to transform into someone ready to take on the world and experience all that it has to offer." He grabbed onto Marco's hand on his stomach and laced their fingers together. "Show me how to do that. Make me like you."

The words had been even more perfect than Marco had imagined. Some small shred of himself had been relieved at the consent, but now there was no need to keep up pretense or hold back. Marco's fingers grew warm between Vincent's, then almost hot. His fingernails thickened and stretched, warping and distending, pushing out into claws that darkened like the night itself. Vincent felt pinpricks against his stomach as the claws dug in, Marco wrapping around him, his body so impossibly large.

With one long last whiff, inhaled with Marco's nose to Vincent's shoulder, he suddenly bore his fangs and sunk them down into Vincent's flesh, delivering a bite coursing with a curse almost as ancient as history itself. It was potent and yet intangible, fast acting yet deep rooted. Marco kept his fangs in place, tasting the coppery burning tang of his first pup's blood. Marco held onto Vincent, but he could barely hold onto himself.

The Alpha's heart was racing as he turned his newest recruit. Marco's head throbbed as his brow bones pushed out over his eyes. His beard crept up higher on his cheeks, and unobscured by hair there was absolutely no hiding the point to his pierced ears. His muscles bulged, his pants strained, but that was nothing compared to the raging inferno ripping through Vincent.

Vincent groaned in surprise as he felt the sharp pain of Marco's fangs bore into his shoulder. Fear and adrenaline coursed through his body. He had no idea what Marco was doing to him, what he had agreed to, but a part of him was excited to find out what would happen next. It was euphoric, almost like a drug coursing through his veins. He knew he should have been shocked or abhorrent. He'd been BITTEN, and yet it felt so good. He was lost in his own mind.

As much as Vincent's mind reeled from the surprise, his body was reacting on its own. He'd never felt his heart beat quite so fast, almost at the risk of going off rhythm. His lungs filled with air, but no matter how much he took in it was like he couldn't exhale. His hands were freezing and burning at the same time before he felt blood rushing to his fingertips. They went numb, giving only the faintest sensation of a dull, lifeless throbbing... but the feelings came rushing back when he heard the faint sound of tearing, new claws pushing out of his nail beds, anchored deeper than his fingernails ever had been before.

Marco finally eased back, pulling his fangs out, lapping at the wound with his tongue. It took a few moments, but the tingling energy spreading through Vincent finally caught up to its purpose and the wound clotted, the flesh working at an accelerated pace to knit the holes together. Marco growled, reaching down, catching the back of Vincent's pants with a claw. With just a slight tug, it began to saw back and forth through the waistband, though it got caught on the young man's belt.

The Alpha snarled a little at that and brought his claw lower, cutting into the seat of his prey's pants, cutting through the fabric before drawing it down, slicing it open with a slit. Once he got a good amount of leeway there, the finger plunged in deeper, working on his undergarments next. Even as Vincent felt his very body pulsating with change and new life, he felt the strange kiss of the evening air against his backside.

Vincent shivered as the air hit his hot skin and felt Marco's finger probing at his rear. The thought of what Marco might be planning to do next terrified Vincent, but he was ready for anything. Pleasure mixed with the pain throughout his body, and his cock was rock hard in his pants, throbbing with excitement and need. Sensing Vincent's willingness, Marco made short work of his own fly, allowing his thick, glistening tower of a cock to ease out into the evening air. It nearly sparkled, covered with pre, warped into its new shape.

For a moment - just a moment - Marco appreciated himself, but he knew he wasn't here just for his own pleasure. He had to share it, and his gift, with his new friend. He eased back on the vibrating bike, letting his shaft come down, resting on the seat before he slid forward carefully and perfectly on point. Vincent felt something press against his pucker, testing the ring of flesh before broaching it. It pried it open wider and began easing forward, but already the changes were tangible.

Vincent had grown his first set of claws, but the fingers had been resting on his already fit stomach. As they shimmied with the oscillations of the motorcycle beneath them, he felt a new sensation... Stubble, blooming across his stomach. The dusting of hair was soft and sparse at first, but it started to grow in thicker, creeping upward before it bloomed across his chest, coming out as the muscles beneath swelled and grew larger. Even his nipples ached with so much over stimulation all at once.

Vincent ran his clawed fingers through the thickening hair, feeling the muscles pushing out and firming up across his torso. He rubbed at a nipple poking out of his chest and moaned as he pinched it, feeling the pleasure wash over his body and cloud his mind with lust. The changes were happening so quickly and he barely had a chance to catch his breath before the next round started.

Marco started to kiss and nip at Vincent's neck, his affections roaming over the flesh. He brought his groin in a little closer and with a soft pop, the pointed head of his canine cock made it through Vincent's ring and almost three inches slid in once. Marco growled happily, but it wasn't enough. He reached to shift the bike back into park and stood up just enough to get clearance, rocking his hips back and forth.

Vincent's virgin ass began to feel Marco's big python slither in and out, back and forth, filling him in ways he couldn't have possibly imagined before. Each thrust brought with it new power, new vigor and new changes. Vincent's ears burned and he could hear the cartilage reshaping and reforming as his ears pushing into points. His face ached, first around the temples as his forehead swole thicker, the brow bone reinforcing. His jaw was next, his teeth feeling oddly numb and soft as they reshaped, pushing out into fangs too big for any mortal human.

The bike started to rock on top of vibrating, and once more Vincent heard that metal on metal, the artificial sound that had drawn him, the sound of the motorcycle shocks being tested. This time, his entire body was being tested. Marco thrust in even deeper, impaling Vincent on his meat, coaxing out more and more.

Marco's huge member positioned in and out of Vincent's ass, causing Vincent to growl and grit his growing fangs as he was stretched wider with every thrust. Marco was going hard and strong, something Vincent hadn't been ready for. His tight hole was being loosened little by little, but he was starting to think he'd bitten off more than he could realistically take... but the curse was far from the bounds of a normal reality.

Marco hunched over Vincent, holding onto him, feeling the young man's muscles swell, hearing his bones creak as they grew longer. Vincent's brown hair was pushing out thicker and softer than ever before, and even his tailbone had wriggled up free of his belt, thickening out, growing new bones and ligaments as it extended outward, trapped against Marco's furry stomach. Marco inhaled Vincent's scent, smelling the werewolf in it, but it wasn't enough. This wasn't the new life he'd signed on for. He wanted more.

A new pain blossomed from Vincent's other shoulder as Marco bit into it in turn, evening out the wounds he had inflicted. The heat intensified, the tingling spread, his heart pumped so hard his meaty pec was bouncing. The change was already well under way, but this was something else, something more. Flashes of sensation began to leak into Vincent's mind, creeping into the most remote corners. He felt urges so powerful he wasn't sure if they were his or... or... Marco's. The name had come to him in a whispered thought, a realization profound. The two hadn't exchanged names out loud, but somehow he knew.

The pain and pleasure had doubled in an instant, inundating Vincent's entire being with new and extreme sensations with each beat of his heart. Through it all, Marco was still behind him, bringing him to new limits and then immediately surpassing them, over and over. With Marco's name in Vincent's mind came a sense of understanding, a knowledge of what Marco was, what he had accomplished, and what he had become. Vincent wanted it all. He wanted Marco, wanted to push past the boundaries of reality, wanted to be an equal made in this perfect Alpha's image.

The experience was beyond thrilling for Marco, coaxing him on faster and harder, making him growl and grunt and lick and bite and fuck all the more... but there were still certain practical limitations to their position. It had been sexy to seduce Vincent onto the motorcycle, sexy to bite him there, to start his transformation, but it was still a big machine between their legs, limiting their movements. With reluctance, Marco reached up, throwing off their rhythm just a bit. Vincent whimpered at the interruption, but Marco made sure the bike was in park, turned it off and then moved with incredible strength.

Vincent was extracted from the motorcycle, never leaving Marco's cock. If anything, he got impaled deeper as Marco carried him back onto the grass before the two came crashing down. Vincent landed on his hands and knees like an animal and Marco thrust down deeper into his ass, filling the new recruit with more cock than he knew he could take. Marco's huge, clawed hands grabbed onto the edges of Vincent's meaty ass and the Alpha started to thrust back and forth again with new focus and determination, pounding his meat into Vincent pulverizing the innocent boy he'd been before.

Vincent dug his claws into the dirt, raking deep grooves into the earth as he was pushed to the ground. Every thrust of Marco's huge, meaty shaft into his puckered hole filled him completely, a fiery heat and lust building and coursing through his entire body. His mind was growing dim, instincts beginning to cloud his mind, but he strained to hold them off. Marco was giving him a gift, guiding him down a new path, but Vincent was in control of his changes and had to see how far he could take them.

The synapses fired in Vincent's mind, showing him glimpses, fragments of fantasy, shreds of memory. He thought of smells from events he had not remembered, he saw glimpses of himself huge and beastly. Every sense was so sharp. It was almost like he could feel every tiny grain of soil beneath his claws... his thick, strong, sharp claws... Never tested, never tried, cutting into the ground without effort. The tension on the digits traced back up through his bones as his knuckles popped, his fingers lengthened, his hand broadened.

Vincent shaft was pulsating with need in his pants, bulging lewdly and proudly against the strained material. He moaned at the tightness around his hard meat which was begging for release. Without thinking, he brought his sharp claws forward and slashed through the front of his pants, the claws swiftly slicing through the fabric. In an instant his cock bobbed free in front of him, strands of pre connecting to his stomach and dripping to the ground. He wrapped his free hand around the shaft, slowly stroking the flesh before losing himself in the pleasure and hurrying his pace.

Marco felt the swirling give and take, the energy between Beta and Alpha getting stronger with each thrust. It was potent and profound. He'd adopted wolves before, but this was the first pup he sired himself... and it was perfect. He could feel Vincent packing on the pounds beneath him, going from geek to athlete and then some. He was still youthful, but his shoulders were so broad, his sleeves so tight around his swelling arms. He smelled of sweat and lust. He was becoming fearless, a man, a beast, the sort of son any werewolf dad could be proud of.

Each thrust was like an explosion in Vincent's body and soul, throwing him forward, forcing him to slam back. Each thrust had to be countered, each movement had to be met. It wasn't at all a case of taking it - Vincent had to give as good as he was getting. With each collision of their powerful bodies, Vincent's balls swung, their pendulous weight increasing and growing. His balls dropped lower, new levels of hormones raged through his body. As his sack got heavier and heavier, it fed his manhood with more blood, more power, more vitality.

The lewd, wet, sloppy sound of Marco's immense cock working Vincent's ass was soon countered by another sound, a slapping sound. Vincent's erection had grown bolder, firmer, harder and longer than ever before. His shaft ached with desire and need, extending proudly over his balls, pushing out longer and longer, broadening as well. It surged with growth with a mix of pain and pleasure that few words could match, and when Vincent thought he could take no more, that the pressure was too much and that he might burst... he changed instead.

With a profound, unearthly release of pressure, Vincent's meat warped and shifted. His round, human cock head pushed outward, curving and elongating, narrowing to a point. His entire shaft became more rigid, veins popping, blood rushing in until the flesh looked to be an entirely different color. His shaft bobbed up and down, slapping the fuzz on his stomach as more fuzz sprouted across his balls.

As much as Marco had been giving Vincent, the experience was shifting Marco too. His ears had gone full wolf, sticking out from the side of his bald head, pointed and covered with fur. His face was distorted, exaggerated by the features of the werewolf, his eyes gleaming with amber intensity. He heaved breath through fangs, his exposed chest was covered with fur, even his arms were getting patchy with it... and slowly, surely, confidently, a fuzzy tail was emerging from his pants.

A gurgling filled Marco's stomach as flesh shifted. The curse had always baffled him on how it could summon and rearrange mass. It was in that way that it pushed past physics, dipping heavily into the realm of magic. Marco groaned as his stomach rounded, still equipped with a fair amount of muscle, but becoming distended and full like the biker boss that had corrupted him. Marco got even hornier at the idea of it, knowing he was getting his dad bod, a body that could sustain itself through several rounds with rowdy boys.

Vincent felt Marco getting heavier on top of him, making use of his increased weight to spear deeper into his abused asshole. Vincent snarled and pushed back against the additional mass behind him, his bulging muscles holding up against the added pounds bearing down upon him. He'd let Marco push him around a bit, guide him toward the Alpha's vision for him, but with every surge of strength and added muscle Vincent's confidence took hold and fought for control. Marco was a daddy, but Vincent was no docile pup. He was a manly stud, a hunk of ungodly strength and prowess, and he was ready to show Marco just what kind of beast he was becoming.

Fur began to bristle across Vincent's back, following his spine as bones began to protrude and expand. The skin rippled as his back reshaped and reinforced. His ribs began to throb and ache as they pushed apart, his rib cage growing, making room for his organs to shift and expand. The patches that had started at his elbows and knees spread outward, growing wider, spiraling around the flesh, claiming more and more of it. The line between his hair and his fur got fuzzier, even his ears shifted the rest of the way, covered in a brownish black fur that was grey at the tips. They were more than just animals, bound together, they were something entirely new.

Marco roared at that, his sound echoing through the trees. No one would dare interrupt them. This was their mating season and they were in the deepest heat. Marco shuddered, his tail reaching low enough to brush the grass behind them. It wagged as he pounded into Vincent's swollen, full, muscled ass... but that wasn't enough. Fucking him wasn't enough. Marco's eyes squeezed tight as he felt partial orgasms sweeping over him and he began to gush with precum, filling Vincent with slick waves of silky seed... but it wasn't over, not by a longshot. He wanted to make Vincent his son, his progeny, his pup, and he had a vision in mind.

With one more cracking of the jaw, allowing his fangs to fill fuller, his face to push outward, his nostrils to flare and the bridge of his nose to widen, Marco's face pushed more lycan. The fur coated his arms fully, his back, his chest, his belly, his legs. His feet burst from his boots, his hands swelled in size, his skull popped and shuddered. Even his bald head covered with fur, though his extending muzzle did nothing to diminish his beard. It blended into the fur, connecting his long snout back to his ample furry chest.

Marco towered over Vincent, his huge red tool spraying seed constantly into Vincent, filling his depths. The werewolf looked at the college student before him, knowing he needed one last nudge to join him forever. Marco contorted with inhuman flexibility, relying on his werewolf dexterity to change positions, to wriggle around, and come down lower, sinking his fangs in around Vincent's ribs. Once more Vincent felt the sting and the power of the bite, the mark of the Alpha, tainting him with seed and saliva alike.

Vincent's eyes flashed a bright golden, nearly emitting their own light with how reflective they were. His ears pushed pointier, his brow bone thickened more, his own fledgling tail filled out and fanned out... but the strongest tingling came from his chin. He'd been growing soft stubble down his cheeks, forming sideburns, but now his chin was the focal point. The flesh darkened with brown stubble, then the stubble thickened and broadened, anchoring well before it began to grow out, pushing longer... and longer... and longer.

It was the strangest feeling Vincent had ever had. He'd never 'felt' his hair before, but now he could feel it as it covered his chin, built up thicker, and then pushed out, growing down in a thickening tuft that looked as if it had taken months to cultivate. The hair was lustrous and thick, strong and healthy. His sideburns grew out wider, balancing the hair descending from his face, giving him a new look he'd never had before... but it was only the start.

With territory claimed, Vincent's new facial foliage had been emboldened. The stubble crept across his cheeks, connecting his sideburns to his jaw, then the goatee. The invisible fuzz across his upper lip thickened, darkened, and then grew out. His face had a shadow creeping across it, and that shadow was manliness. What had started as just a few patches formed a beard, and soon it was eager to catch up to just how long his fledgling goatee had gotten.

Vincent let out a deep growl as he basked in the increase in pleasure that came with each new transformative bite that Marco gave him. He ran a clawed hand through his growing beard, immense tingles of pleasure stemming from his follicles as he pulled and pet at the glorious hair. Wads of pre spurt from his pulsing member, coating the grass beneath him. The third wave of sweeping changes had started, and he used the new energy and momentum to keep pushing the limits of his transformation.

Each wriggle of Vincent's toes brought a strange sensation as his forming claws dug through the soft rubber of his shoes, then they reached the hard rubber and the plastic, boring through, gouging and cutting until hard bone burst out of pathetic footwear, peeling out until it crumbled away, falling in fragments into the dirt. Vincent's feet, or rather his paws, were finally free, open to the air like they were meant to be. It was a liberating feeling.

Marco growled, releasing his bite from Vincent's ribs, sliding back up along his back. He smelled Vincent's wounds healing in record time. He heard the stitches popping as his sleeves burst open, the fabric unable to contain beefy arms of that magnitude. He had almost eight inches of midriff showing now, his torso having stretched longer and fuller. He was a tall drink of water, a beefy boy, and he was all Marco's.

The Alpha growled, lowering his head, inhaling Vincent's changing scent. It had become so much stronger, so much richer, so much more manly. Marco nuzzled and then licked at his convert's neck, changing his thrusts into grinding, churning inside of him, helping him along. The change in movements seemed to change the budding energy inside Vincent, creating an all new sensation. It was as if all the growth, all the corruption, all the change that Marco had introduced had been nothing but a seed... and spring was coming.

What had started with just a few stitches popping grew louder. Fabric strained, growing taut and tight, almost translucent in places until Vincent felt sudden relief and the sensation of the hot evening air blowing across the fur that now covered his back. His shirt split out, bursting in three places until it came apart in tatters. The fragments fell to the wet grass beneath him, covered with dew like beads of sweat.

The growth had been astonishing, but it wasn't limited to just Vincent's torso. He had been growing in every way; taller, wider, broader and thicker. Marco had shown no mercy to his pants and between the cock and Vincent's big fluffy tail, they couldn't hold out any longer. The fabric tore out around the crotch first, and then long, loud tearing split down the legs until beefy, furry tree trunks erupted from their confinement.

With a body covered in fur and sculpted out of muscle, far surpassing any human in size or weight, Vincent felt it all percolating to the surface, bubbling upwards, filling his skull. It was almost fizzy the way it sunk into his bones and cartilage, making his face both numb and tingle at the same time. His nose popped, then his ears, then his jaw. If he could force his eyes open long enough to look out, he could see his nose growing outward and taking his mouth with it. His jaw followed and his full, thick beard began to blend into new strands of fur that ringed his eyes, covered his nose and spanned his forehead.

Marco kept going, feeling so close to the edge it was hard to hold back. He'd taken an innocent bystander, a college kid, and doubled his body weight, surged him in height, tainted him with an ancient curse, and made him a magnificent beast. He had not died, he had not become a direwolf. He was a werewolf, a lycan, just like Marco, just like the Alpha that had sired him... but he was also something new. He was his own man, his own beast, someone with power and agency and determination. He was a spirit awakened.

The fully transformed Alpha threw his long muzzle skyward, parted his fangs and let out a loud declaration, a howl that filled the park and climbed to the moon as well. This was his new son, his progeny, his pup. He was an Alpha to be reckoned with, and he would populate the world with his own family of wolf boys. As he howled, his huge cock began to erupt with the thickest, fullest, most virile orgasm either of them had ever experienced. His seed pumped into Vincent, filling him to the absolute brim.

Vincent grit his fangs and whined with pleasure as the onslaught of Marco's orgasm hit his innards. The infecting werewolf spunk blasted inside him, filling him to his brim. The bloated knot quivered in his ass, and his muscles inside massaged the hot, hard meat, claiming all that Marco had to offer. Vincent couldn't hold back any longer and threw his head back, waves of long hair cascading through the air behind him. He let out a powerful howl that cut through the night as his balls tugged up and his cock erupted with his bountiful seed.

The first intense jet of cum that hit the ground beneath him was pearly white, the last remnant of his humanity being expelled before his thick, sticky, deep yellow wolf spunk rocketed out of his member. The intense orgasm ripped through them both, claiming their minds and their bodies and solidifying their bond as their final changes took hold. One last flash of images bounced between their minds, sharing the sensations of liberation, of freedom, of determination. Marco had grown and become something new, and he had unlocked something inside of Vincent too. Marco might have sired him, but both were confident, dominant, and ready to take on the world... especially if they were together.

****

The steady growl of the motorcycle cut through the wind as it roared down the road. Dust kissed Vincent's face, though goggles protected his lycan eyes. Their hot night had led to an even hotter next day, then the next week. It had been a wild ride for Vincent as he was shown off to the other hellhounds and got him used to their headquarters. It took a few days for the other hellhounds to get used to him, too. They were in awe of the first wolf that Marco had sired, of the power and virility that oozed off of Vincent's massive body. Vincent was introduced to Carlos, who approved of Marco's first son and invited Vincent to join in some fun time together. The three Latino werewolves explored each other on the mattress in the garage that night, and Vincent had learned what it was like to make love to two Alpha daddies at once.

It had taken a lot of explanation to his parents, but Marco had managed to change his summer plans. He wasn't some kid that needed to come home, especially when it wasn't really his home. He was a man that was ready to explore the world, to go forth, and sow his wild oats. Vincent was a perfect pup, but Marco knew he could make more... and he had to share his newfound gifts with the others. Artyom and Duncan would make perfect biker men, and Marco felt he finally had what it took to give Udo the viking beard he deserved... and as for Fletcher? He'd already liked piercings before. He'd do him up proper, make him the biker boy he was destined to be.

The Texas heat had tempered Marco like a blade, testing him against the elements, helping him to become stronger and more resilient. He'd be able to do so much more now, to make a pack that would last beyond college, even instead of college. He'd turn so many to his cause, help them to grow big and hairy and manly... But no matter what happened, Vincent would always be his first born, the first werewolf that truly made him into the werewolf daddy he was meant to be.

The growl of the bike faltered as it slowed down, pulling off the main road and moving down an off ramp. A row of identically aged trees led to the rest stop, tucked just a bit off the beaten path. Marco pulled the bike up to the curb and brought it to a stop, throwing it into park before the engine died away. Vincent could still feel the phantom pins and needles of the engine after it was turned off, but he'd grown used to that lasting a little bit once they made it to their destination.

Marco scooted back a little, letting Vincent dismount before he did the same, stretching his legs a bit. It was one of the nicer rest stops with a wooden yurt housing vending machines and backlit maps of the southern states. The building housing the restroom was made of thick cinder blocks with decades of paint layered one atop the other. The shrubs and wildflowers blew in a light breeze, giving the air an exotic scent.

A few other cars had pulled in to use the rest stop, as well as one long haul truck. An older couple had seen the bikers pull in and accelerated their departure, gathering themselves before pulling out. Another car had lingered a bit longer, an old battered Subaru filled with some scruffy looking teenagers that looked at the two with a bit of admiration. Marco and Vincent seemed so tall, so manly, so liberated. The fact that they had arrived on the same motorcycle was provocative as well. Honestly, Marco liked the attention, though he looked back at Vincent to see how he was doing after their ride.

Vincent was every bit of perfection that Marco had hoped for. He stood tall and proud at six and a half feet, bulging with huge muscles and covered in so much hair that he might have been mistaken for a bear. He shook his head and ran a hand through his long, windblown hair that was wild and shaggy from their ride. The thick, wavy locks cascaded over his shoulders and down to the middle of his back. His dark beard was wide and bushy, flowing down past his collarbones to his nipples. With his long hair and full wooly beard, he practically had a mane of fluffy, furry hair.

He had been outfitted by the hellhounds, who had dressed him up in a similar get up to his Alpha. He wore a leather vest that showed off his fuzzy, muscled torso and beefy arms that would have torn through any sleeves. His pecs were thick slabs of hard sinew dotted by dark nipples and covered in a dense swath of hair that met in a tuft of fur down his sternum. The hair dusted over his mountainous eight pack and down toward a furry happy trail that bushed out into the crotch of his black denim jeans. The fabric was pulled taught across his proud bulge and legs that were as sturdy as tree trunks.

He looked over at the teens in the car that were staring at him, gazing over his new body. His member twitched in his pants, growing hard as he thought about how far he had come in such a short time thanks to Marco's influence. He had once been like those teens, looking out to someone powerful and confident, wanting to be like them. Now he was that person that others would look up to. His commanding presence and massive form were worthy of admiration and worship, but none was more worthy than the beast that had given him this gift. He turned to Marco, who was looking back at him, and grinned, his fangs glinting in the bright sunlight.

"The next decision's a big one." Marco said, moving to sit down on a retaining wall that bordered a raised flower bed. He spread his legs out, braced his hands on either side of him, his shaved head glistening in the golden afternoon light while his full beard blew in the breeze, "Straight ride home, or more sightseeing." Vincent walked over and stood in front of Marco, placing his hands on his Alpha's shoulders.

"I think we should do some more sightseeing. You know how nice the sky is at night out here away from the city." Vincent answered. "We could have a fun romp out under the stars for once." He turned back to the car with the teens. "I think we're becoming a sightseeing landmark as we speak. Maybe we should give them a view they won't get to see anywhere else?"

"You have anything in mind, lover?" Marco asked, grabbing Vincent's hand, giving it a tug. As he stumbled closer, Marco pulled him in for a kiss as they pressed groin to groin and beard to beard, their lips meeting in heated passion. Marco ground up against Vincent as he stood there, the two such fine specimens of what masculinity could really be.

Vincent growled lustfully and brought a hand up to Marco's chest, pawing at the firm, juicy pec and running his fingers through the dense forest of hair and fur. Vincent plunged his long tongue into Marco's mouth, wrestling along with the Alpha's dexterous muscle, tasting each other and swapping their thick saliva. He bit down on Marco's bottom lip with his fangs and tugged on it before pulling back, huffing from their heated kiss. Vincent wasn't sure if it was the sun or the lust that was making him so hot, but he had started to sweat profusely and their intoxicating musk was swirling around them.

"I just want to make love to you right here, Marco." Vincent said, grinding his hard throbbing member into Marco's own towering meat. "You made me into the perfect version of myself, and all I want to do is use it to thank you for bestowing this gift upon me."

"We'll have plenty of time for you to thank me, and for me to thank you. We're something new now, something amazing." Marco said with a growing grin, "We'll have time to enjoy it." Vincent smiled and leaned forward to kiss Marco again.

"You're right. We have the rest of our lives to enjoy what we've become." Vincent said, "An Alpha daddy and his first pup, a dynamic duo." He nuzzled into Marco's neck, their thick bristly beards meshing together, sniffing at their combined scent. They were more than just lovers, more than packmates. They had a real connection that not even Marco's pack in Echo Creek shared with their Alpha. Together, he and Marco would help them become their biggest, baddest selves and bring in new recruits to their pack. "Let's get back on the road and find a place to camp. I want to make some noise with you out in nature tonight." Vincent stood and adjusted his member in his pants, the long pole of meat straining the crotch of his jeans.

"Sounds like some ideal family time." Marco said with a grin, his eyes shifting just a bit more yellow as he gave Vincent one more hungry kiss and the light of the Texas sunset washed over them both from between the trees.