FSE

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formerly SoFurry search engine

Part of the Pack

** ** Written by Feo Asilion/Firefox1234 27/12/17

4550 Words

Tic. Toc. Tic. Toc. Tic. Toc.

Brandon glared at the clock on the wall, convinced that he just saw the minute hand tick backwards. He grumbled softly to himself as he shuffled some papers around on his desk, not even caring if he mixed up his in and out boxes. He rubbed his eyes tiredly and looked out the window into the inky darkness, broken only by the occasional street lamp.

It was well past midnight at this point, and while he would love more than anything to be curled up in bed right now, he was behind with his quarterly evaluations and foolishly decided to stay back to try to catch back up. Sure, working at a bank had its perks, but he got really fed up with the hours sometimes.

He ran a large, bear-like hand through his short-cut blonde hair and sighed, before his gaze drifted to the mug beside his work and the few dregs of coffee contained therein, “God, what I'd give for a decent cup of coffee, not this powdered shit the office minxes bring in…" he grumbled to himself, clearly not all that impressed by the idea of a woman, of all things, in his workplace.

As the loud howl of a wolf echoed outside, he reluctantly stood up with his mug in hand. Brandon glared at his work, before sighing and dropping the mug again; he should probably get home to try to get at least SOME sleep, since it wouldn't do well to be both exhausted and behind on his job.

He did his best to tidy his workspace, before grabbing his belongings and flicking the switch to turn off the lights of the office. He pulled open the door, being greeted by a chill wind and a small pile of snow collected against the frame. Brandon shivered a little and pulled his coat tighter against his bulky frame, far more suited for a footballer than an office worker, before trudging off in the direction of the bus stop. He glanced at his watch as he strode through the light snow; he should make it to the stop just before the last bus of the night ran through.

Wind whistled through the dark and empty city, with most souls being sane enough to hide inside from the frigid temperatures outside. But if Brandon had stopped to think, surely the city was quite a bit more quiet than it should be? He grumbled a little to himself as his foot plunged through a deeper than expected snow drift, and as he lifted his head, he caught sight of the bus trundling towards the stop in the distance.

He cursed under his breath and tugged his foot free, before starting to hurry as fast as the deepening snow would allow him to. He was huffing heavily by the time the bus pulled to a stop in front of him, but he ignored the driver's bemused expression as he slumped into a seat. As Brandon slowly recovered his breath, he leaned back against the cheap upholstery of the bus seat and closed his eyes. Another howl jolted Brandon back to full awareness as the bus pulled away from the stop, causing him to glance around nervously, before looking at the driver quizzically.

“Wow, the wolves at the zoo sure are active tonight, huh?" the driver said, flashing an uneasy smile at him, “No matter how many times I make this late-night run, I never get used to it, you know?"

Brandon shrugged a little, more to himself than anyone else, and let his attention drift back to the window.

Twenty minutes had passed by the time Brandon got off the bus at his stop in the outer suburbs near a forest reservation, which under normal circumstances was an easy five-minute walk to home. But with the snow growing heavier, he wouldn't be surprised if it would take five times as long to get back. He grumbled to himself and cursed his bad luck, before he started his trek back home, his coat held all the more tighter around him.

Ten minutes in and Brandon was starting to lose feeling in his nose and hands. He shuddered and buried his digits under his armpits in an attempt to restore blood flow, but now the wind was starting to pick up too, and it was worming through every gap in his clothes.

But then Brandon's blood ran cold for an entirely different reason; for the third time that night, he heard the loud howl of a wolf, but this time it was significantly closer. With his heart hammering in fear and all worries about the weather forgotten, he broke into a haphazard dash for his house.

He made it most of the way there before he realised that he could hear a second set of racing footfalls behind him. His heart jumped into his throat as he spun around, seeing the large, dark outline of a wolf through the falling snow. Before he had time to do more than look at it blankly, it was already leaping at him, its hackles raised and teeth bared.

The impact sent them both tumbling into the snow, the wolf's jaw locked around the arm that Brandon had raised at just the right moment to protect his neck. The coat did little to protect his arm, as evidenced by the blood now streaming down his arm and the searing pain radiating from the wound.

He felt the wolf relax its grip and let go of his arm, no doubt to try to get another bite off in a more vital area, but he took the opportunity to let go with a whopper of a right hook to its muzzle. The wolf tumbled to one side, almost looking confused that prey would be able to fight back, while Brandon scrambled back to his feet. The wolf seemed to evaluate him for a moment, before it licked away a stray drop of his blood from its muzzle, then turned tail and dashed back into the snow.

He huffed and clutched his arm close to his chest, doing his best to apply pressure to the bite while he staggered unsteadily towards his house. Thankfully, in his mad dash to outrun the wolf, he had managed to cross the remaining distance to his doorstep, which he promptly stumbled through and kicked the door shut behind him.

He shed his coat and shirt quickly, tossing them aside as he hobbled into the bathroom, then reached under the sink to pull out his first aid kit. He propped it open against the vanity and pulled out an alcohol swap, before gritting his teeth and setting to work cleaning the bite; who knew what kind of diseases a wild wolf would have anyway!

Brandon stifled a howl of pain as the alcohol seeped into the wound, before tossing the used swab into the sink and grabbing a fresh one. It wasn't long before he had finished cleaning his arm, revealing the neat rows of punctures along both the top and bottom of his arm, which he promptly wrapped in gauze and medical bandages.

Satisfied with his handiwork, he cleaned up the bloody sink as best as he could with one arm, before putting his injured arm in a sling and walking back into the main living area of the house. He debated with himself as to whether he should go to hospital, at least just to get checked out, but eventually he decided to visit the doctors first thing tomorrow.

With that dilemma solved, he glanced at the clock mounted on the wall, before sighing and retiring for the night, eager to get what little sleep he could in what remained of the night.

Morning came all too soon, it felt like to Brandon. No sooner than he laid his head on his pillow did his alarm go off, it seemed. He sighed to himself and listened to the news report on the radio as he tried to work up the motivation to climb out of bed. Just as he was about to sit up though, the weather came on the radio and caused his mood to soar; the heavy snowfall from last night hadn't let up, and now many major roads were cut off.

With hope in his heart, he sent off an inquisitive text message to his supervisor to see if they'd be closed for the day as a result, before making his way back to the bathroom. His arm felt far less painful this morning, and the throbbing pain from last night had faded into a dull itch. But he still set to work unwrapping his arm; he wanted to make sure that the wound wasn't getting infected.

But as the last of the bandages pulled away, he was met with a surprising sight: there wasn't any sign of the wound. He scratched his head, confused, before inspecting his arm more closely. He was just about to write the whole thing off as a hypothermia-induced hallucination before he spotted the faint, extremely faded rows of punctures along the top of his arm.

But far from relieving his gut, it seemed to only make it more concerned. That kind of wound doesn't heal overnight, and especially not to that degree! This was definitely something that he would be talking with his doctor about when he saw them later today, he thought to himself, before something in his reflection caught his eye. He noted with distain that he could see a few grey hairs hidden amongst his locks, before dropping his gaze down to his chest. While it had been many, many years since his football days, he still prided himself on maintaining his physique. He may not be as ripped as he was then, but he was still reasonably toned, at least. But there was something else, too; he wasn't sure whether it was a trick of the light or exhaustion, but his normally wiry, sparse chest hair was thicker, and for lack of a better word, fluffier.

He groaned and rubbed his eyes, then put all that aside as he retreated to the kitchen to begin making breakfast. Sausages, bacon, eggs and tomatoes were all on the menu as he began frying away, before the ding of a text reply grabbed his attention. According to his boss, the weather report earlier really didn't do just how bad the blockages were justice, and it would likely be another few days before the snow storm abated.

Content at least that he didn't have to deal with work now for a few days, Brandon happily went to work cooking breakfast. It was far larger than he normally ate, by at least twice the size, but he chalked that up to not eating dinner last night. And even after he demolished what he cooked, he caught himself thinking about the steak he had sitting in his fridge.

He was feeling a little weird, now that he actually stopped to think about it. His body felt heavy and hot, like he was walking around draped in a duvet or three. Brandon rubbed at his arm idly as he slumped against his sofa, not noticing the hair on his arm slowly turning grey.

A soft rapping on the door startled him from his daze, prompting him to groan inwardly; couldn't they just leave him to doze? But when it came again, he sighed and heaved himself off the sofa, before walking on unsteady feet towards the noise, completely oblivious to his now shoulder-length hair turning a charcoal grey.

He pulled open the door with an annoyed growl, but was taken aback by the sight before him: a young woman was standing on the porch, her steel-grey hair fluttering slightly in the breeze while she fiddled with a button on her jacket, one that wouldn't look out of place at his work, now that Brandon took a moment to think about it. But it was her boots that caught his attention more than anything, made of a shiny black material that disappeared past her knee-length pencil skirt.

He stared at her blankly, all words seeming to fail him, but she had that more than covered as she adjusted the dainty pair of glasses balanced on her nose, “Ah, good, you're up, I was worried the process was a little too far gone," she commented, before flashing him a warm smile, “Let's get inside, shall we?"

Brandon was still in a slight daze as she stepped past him when he caught something at the very edge of his senses: of course he could smell her perfume, and it certainly wasn't helping his head, but there was something else too, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. But as she strode past him, he didn't notice what looked like wolf tracks leading up to the porch.

Letting the door fall closed, he turned to face the newcomer, but as he was about to speak, he suddenly found his tongue tied. It wasn't that he was unable to speak, but more that he didn't know what to say. She glanced over her shoulder at Brandon, a coy smile dancing across her lips, “Well come on, then, sit down! We need to talk."

He raised an eyebrow in confusion, before reluctantly following her to the living room and sitting on one of the chairs scattered around the room. She giggled a little and sat down in his recliner, a move that made Brandon's heart jump to his throat and a low growl to his lips; he never let ANYONE sit in his recliner, let alone someone he had just met!

She suddenly clicked her fingers, surprising him out of his annoyance, “Now then, before we get started, some ground rules. You will refer to me as Alpha, and Alpha only. For now, you will have the luxury of talking with me candidly, but in the future, you will speak only when spoken to, understand?"

“Yes, Alpha-" came the words from Brandon's lips before he even had a chance to process what was said, “Wait, what?"

Alpha snickered softly to herself, “Oh dear, looks like someone's a little surprised at themselves!" she teased, batting her lashes at him.

When nothing else was forthcoming, he growled again, “What the hell is going on!?" he snarled, not noticing the slight breaking of his voice, nor its slowly increasing pitch.

“How's your chest feeling?" she asked, ignoring his question, but with a sly grin plastered across her face.

Brandon blinked a few times in surprise, before raising his hands to lightly rub at his chest absentmindedly, “It feels f-" he managed to say, before he exhaled sharply at the unexpected sensations. He glanced down, startled, and was met with something quite surprising; his chest hair had seemed to multiply, so that right in the centre of his chest was a patch of fuzzy grey hair, almost fur-like in its texture. But far more worrying than that, was the unexpected sensitivity of his now-puffy nipples. As he inspected them further and lightly rubbed at them, he shivered and gasped in a mixture of surprise and pleasure.

Alpha's soft smirk managed to draw his attention away from the pleasure, however, “Oh my, such a naughty little pup!" she exclaimed, “Is that a bone in your pants? Or are you just happy to see me?"

Brandon yelped in embarrassment as he glanced down, past his chest, to see what could only be compared to a log in his boxers, before hurriedly trying to cover it, “What are you doing to me!" he asked, in almost a begging tone.

She replied with a soft tut, “Oh dear, I was wondering how long it would take you to catch on," was her only reply as she straightened her skirt, “Now then, you might as well do away with the remnants of those clothes, you're not going to need them anymore."

Brandon's hands were already to the waistband of his boxers and beginning to tug them down before he realised what he was doing. But as much as he willed his arms to lift up away from his boxers, it almost felt like they were obeying another's bidding. With a single smooth motion, he slid his boxers down to the floor, freeing his straining cock from its confines. But if that wasn't worrying enough, the sight of his penis instilled a deeper fear inside him: he had been with many women in his life, and he was immensely proud of his ten-inch shaft. But as he looked down, his cock straining with need and fully erect, he realised that it wasn't as long as it should have been. At least two inches was missing from his length, and as he watched, he could literally see his shaft ever so slowly decreasing in size.

He looked up at Alpha with fearful eyes, “W-what are you doing? Why are you doing it to me?!" he stammered, his heart hammering hard in his throat.

She ignored his questions and stood up, slowly taking measured steps around him, almost as if she was inspecting him, before shaking her head, “Oh no, this won't do! This won't do at all!"

She walked back around to where Brandon could see her and grinned, something that truly scared him more than anything else she had done, “Oh, my dear, we're gunna have to speed up the process a little. I'd like to be out of here sometime today, before the snow gets too bad."

Alpha smiled darkly at him as she rested a dainty hand on his chest, before suddenly swiping across it. Searing pain followed in its wake, eliciting an agonised yelp from Brandon as blood started seeping out of four parallel gashes in his chest. The stinging only lasted only a second, before a deep itch replaced it, seeming to spread out from the wound across his body. He gritted his teeth, since that was the only part of his body he seemed to be able to control, before looking at Alpha's hand.

Instead of a hand, though, he saw what he could only described as a humanised version of a paw, covered in fur as steel-grey as her hair, and sporting a quartet of claws, all of which were dripping blood. He stared at her in shock, as unbeknownst to him, the fuzz of hair covering his chest started spreading visibly faster, “W-what are you?" he stammered, trembling in fear.

She again ignored his question and tutted, “You gave Sister Ceri quite the fight last night, didn't you? We were all assuming that you would turn far faster than you did. But don't worry, you won't have to deal with that for much longer…"

Brandon paled as he gulped nervously, “W-wait, last night? T-the wolf? But… Sister? A-are you some kind of werewolf or something?" he stammered as the fur kept spreading across his chest.

Alpha huffed and rolled her eyes, “Actually, we're called Lytherians, thank you very much. Admittedly, yes, we were the inspiration for that particular mythos, but I digress, it's not something you're going to have to concern yourself with much longer…". She hummed to herself for a moment, before smiling at him, “Let me show you what's in store for you."

It was like a heat haze had suddenly descended upon her, one that managed to obscure her entire form in a cloud of shimmering air. As suddenly as it came it was gone, and the woman he thought Alpha was, was no longer there. In her place stood what he could only describe as a werewolf, which when he thought about it, wasn't entirely a surprise. Bipedal and standing a foot over him, with her narrow, canine-esque muzzle pulled back in a snarl, she glowered down at the poor man as she flexed her paw-like digits.

At Brandon's terrified expression, she let out a deep chuckle, “You know, we've had our eye on you for some time, now. Do you think it was a coincidence that despite your failing performance at your place of employment you still have a job? Well, had now, I guess. We've been slowly getting things ready for today, and it's so gratifying to see a well-laid plan come together."

He trembled a little, before gulping and stammering, “A-Alpha… W-what are you doing to me, Alpha?" he asked quietly.

She shrugged indifferently at him, “Conversions like this take a long time, and it isn't feasible to do on a large scale. Our people are tired of hiding who they are from a world that refuses to understand us, and so you shall help birth us litter upon litter of warriors to take back our world!"

Brandon was quiet for a moment as he tried to process what she said, before he fully took it in, “Wait, birth?"

Alpha grinned widely, “Yes, birth. I can think of no better role for someone like you…"

He growled in response, an indignant fire alight in his belly, “You stupid bint! I'm not even a fucking woman!"

Alpha's grin just deepened, something that instantly put out that fire in Brandon, “Not yet, you're not," she replied, sending his heart, which had previously been in his throat, careening to the depths of his stomach, “Now then, kneel."

He felt his body move again as he slowly knelt down on the soft carpet of his living room, “How are you doing this to me? How are you making my body move without my control?" he asked, fear now apparent in his voice more than anything. By this point, the fur had spread up his chest to his nipples, where he could see the beginnings of budding breasts beneath the charcoal grey. He also felt a weird pressure at the base of his tailbone, and he desperately wanted to rub at it to try to alleviate it.

She snickered softly, “Oh, it's still completely under your control. There's just a part of you that recognises that I'm your Alpha, and that you'll do whatever I say as soon as I say it. A part of you recognises my dominance, and wants to fall in line behind me, and wants it more than anything else in the world. Isn't that right, dear?"

“Yes Alpha," came his immediate response before he even had a chance to think about what she was saying. His ears, now canine in appearance and peeking out from the hair on the top of his head, flattened in a mixture of fear and obedience.

It was strange, though; he could feel the part of him she was talking about, the tiny little voice in the back of his head, wanting nothing more than to do whatever her Alpha wanted.

Wait, her?

Alpha watched the transforming Brandon for a moment, before gently lifting his head up to look at her, “I'll tell you what, dear. If you want no part of this, I understand! I know how terrifying this must be for you! So I'm going to offer you a choice. You can leave, right now, and I'll undo everything that has happened to you. We won't come after you, and we'll leave you alone."

She paused for a moment, leaving that offer hanging in the air and letting Brandon consider it.

“Or you can stay and be the mother to dozens, if not hundreds, of new Lytherians! You would be one of the mothers to our army, and the one to usher in the Age of the Wolf!"

Brandon was quiet, at least on the outside. Inside his mind, however, he was waging a war against the voice in his head, his more submissive side, the one who desperately wanted to go with Alpha.

She watched him carefully, before he slowly lifted his head, his once blue eyes now a bright emerald, the same as Alpha herself, “I'm right where I want to be, Alpha," he replied, his voice far softer and more feminine.

She smiled widely down at him and gently scritched between his ears, “Good choice, dear," she cooed, “I don't think that silly old human name of yours suits you anymore, don't you?"

Brandon shook his head, “No, Alpha, I don't," he replied instantly, before gasping as a long, fluffy tail burst from her tailbone, leaving the poor former human trembling in pleasure. By now, the fur was covering most of his body, except for a patch around his crotch and his neck up.

Alpha gently rubbed down his cheek to scratch under his chin while she thought, before poking his nose, “Oh! I've got it! How does Nessa sound?" she asked, beaming down at the werewolf-in-progress.

Nessa giggled happily at that, “Oh, Alpha, it's perfect! I love it!"

Alpha kneeled down beside Nessa, “Now then, it's time to fix up all the plumbing, wouldn't you say?"

Nessa nodded a little, “Y-yes, Alpha," he said quietly, thought there was just a hint of trepidation in his voice.

Alpha noticed this and lightly rubbed at Nessa's furry arm, “What's wrong? Nervous?"

Nessa shivered a little, “Will it hurt, Alpha?" he asked softly, wringing his new paws nervously.

Alpha smiled at him gently, “It probably will, dear. But there's something I can do to help…"

As she dropped a paw down to lightly rest on his crotch, brushing past the two inches of his remaining cock, she leaned down to kiss Nessa firmly on the lips. At the same time, however, she dug a claw into the sensitive flesh around his shaft, puncturing the skin and accelerating the transformation process in that area.

Nessa whimpered in pain, before melting into Alpha's arms and into the kiss, losing herself in the pleasure of the transformation. It initially felt weird, kissing a canine muzzle with a human one, but that soon wasn't a problem as the changes started making their way up his neck, shifting bone and morphing his features to that of a Lytherian.

They locked muzzles and pressed deeply against each other, kissing each other with the desperation and love of long-lost lovers finally reunited, while Nessa's below the belt transformation advanced. Paws roamed around each other's bodies as Nessa's cock shrank in length further and further, until it was little more than a stub. His scrotum started pulling back into his body too, as even the little stub of a penis vanished. But the transformation continued as the beginnings of a vagina started forming from what remained.

They broke the kiss with a hot gasp but continued holding each other while Nessa regained his, or rather now, her, breath. Alpha smiled down at her and ruffled the hair-like fluff between her hears, “Mmm, there's a good girl," she crooned happily, daintily reaching down to lightly poke at Nessa's new nethers, “We should probably get back to the Pack, I expect you're going to be quite busy when we get back…"

Alpha paused and glanced out the window, looking at the snow falling heavily and piling up against the window, before chuckling softly, “Though, it might be best for us to wait for this storm to pass, don't you? Besides, this will give us time to introduce you to the wonders of your new body!"