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Peter and the Werewolf Written by Leo_Todrius Commissioned by Gotommax

There were some who said that civilization was defined by the roads connecting people, and in many ways it was true. Roads had been an important part of society from the first paths blazed through the wilderness during migration to the spice roads of the orient and the pilgrimage paths of the religious reformation. Roads had the power to change lives forever, but one path in particular had been forgotten; the Zussen path, the trail used to exchange flour and sugar for sweet and delicious treats in days gone by, navigating the forest like a vast snake... but the path had grown wild and untamed until one day a pair of twins had gotten lost along the route. Even their trail of breadcrumbs had not been enough to lead them back to safety.

From that point on, the Zussen path had gone untraveled, unused, lingering in the shadows of the forest all the way to its edges, edges defined by sloping grassy hills covered with sheep and wide graduated fields filled with the first crops of spring. Homes dotted the countryside, made out of stone and wood like ivory tokens on a sea of jade. The village was focused entirely on its farming and cultivation of livestock. Children got up, tended their flocks and fields, went to school and learned how to do their tasks even better and came back home to milk the cows and check for pests... at least that was the routine for all but one young man.

Leather bound feet came tromping down the hillside, carefully angling to avoid slipping on the dew covered slope. Peter was covered in brown, from his shaggy hair to his brown eyes to his tunic and pants. He looked every bit the son of a farmer, though he had been charged with watching the flocks in the northern fields from time to time as well. Peter's chest rose and fell as he all but slid down the hillside toward the town square. His eyes were wide, his skin pale for the moment.

"WOLF!!! WOLF! There's a wolf in the fields!!" Peter exclaimed. The call echoed through town like lightning. People opened doors to check, looking around.

"What did he say?" one elderly man questioned.

"There's a wolf in the fields!" A woman shouted back, hiking up her dress to hike across the square, ringing the large town bell. Where Peter's wolf had not carried, the bell took the message even further. Farmers, millers, bakers and blacksmiths emerged from the buildings, gathering any implement they could find. Peter looked around at them all, his face still masked with fear and doubt, though his brown eyes soon settled on a quite different sight... Miss Marion.

The doors to the school opened and Marion emerged, her body covered in a blue and white dress, her blond hair as silky and smooth was the grain they were cultivating. She moved with grace and poise, her figure prim and proper... but Peter's thoughts weren't proper at all. Marion was seven years older than he, her bosom carefully shielded behind her blouse... but all Peter wanted to do was tear open her dress, to study the curves of her bosom, to view the forbidden territory between her legs, to feel her far more experienced hands caressing his body. His pants tightened as he thought about it.

"Peter, what is it?" Marion asked, moving over, her green colored eyes settling into his.

"There's a wolf in the northern fields, he's trying to eat our flocks!" Peter said, shivering and looking mildly terrified. Marion moved over, pulling Peter into a hug. Peter felt her body mold around his, her breasts pressing so close to his face. His lips parted, his breath hot on her blouse, his tongue barely able to remain inside his mouth. Marion stroked his messy hair before she took half a step back, looking into his eyes.

"I know you're worried Peter, but are you sure this time? There have been... false alarms before." Marion said. Sure enough, the eyes around the village had grown a bit strained when they realized it had been Peter that had raised the alarm yet again.

"I'm completely sure, I saw the wolf with my own eyes. I can even show you the paw prints! Come on everyone!" Peter said, turning to head back up the path. Marion gave a nod tot he others.

"The young children will stay with me in the school house where it is safe." Marion declared.

"If you be old enough to lift an axe or a sword, grab one and follow us into the fields!" The blacksmith called out, grabbing a pitchfork from the display outside his shop, moving his hefty body toward the hills. Peter gave Marion one last nod before he moved to lead the villagers out of the town and up the path.

The trip down the hill had been much faster with the assistance of gravity. Moving up was more difficult. Men of almost all ages and even some women zig zagged up the terraces slopes, passing corn and wheat and potatoes, moving onto even more treacherous ground covered in wild grasses and wild flowers. They moved past the abbot's house, the messenger's hut, coming to the house on the top of the northern hill - Peter's house.

The house was calm and mild, painted white. A small garden was enclosed by a picket fence. Normally ducks wandered around in the fence, but with the gate left open the ducks had wandered out to a near by pond to swim around, quacking away. The house was empty and still, the windows dark. Somehow the white walls seemed all the lonelier in the sunlight with the interior being so shrouded in shadow. Peter moved past his property toward the tree line before crouching down by a patch of mud, gesturing to imprints.

"See, wolf prints!" Peter said triumphantly. Sure enough, the mud patch had been disturbed, the molded shape of a paw and several toes imprinted in the dirt. It was quite convincing, though Peter knew it had to be. This time he needed proof. The villagers were starting to doubt his stories... and they had just been stories. Peter had never been the best farmer, the best shepherd, the best student or the best anything. The only reason anyone listened to him at all was that his family lived on the edge of town. They were the first line of defense against threats. Sadly, there hadn't been any threats in years.

"This could be it..." The blacksmith said, his curly black hair blowing in the wind, his mustache bristled, "If this a lone wolf we can end this here and now. If its part of a pack, we'll have to follow it back to its den, stop the threat completely." The blacksmith said.

"We can't just chase it away?" A teenage boy asked gently, his blond hair nearly obscuring his eyes from beneath his knit cap.

"These wolves live only to feed... And if they feed on our sheep, then we have nothing to eat in the winter times. It comes down to a choice between us and them." the blacksmith replied. Peter said nothing, looking around at the villagers. This was the part he hungered for. The hunt, the search, the cooperation.

"Where did you see it first, laddie?" The baker questioned.

"What does it look like?" Another asked.

"Uh, I saw it come in from the north east edges of the forest. It was big and black and-" Peter was interrupted.

"There are more prints over here!" The miller exclaimed. Peter blinked slowly.

"Wh... What?" Peter asked, having been taken completely off guard. The blacksmith moved over, crouching down, looking at the prints before he nodded.

"It is heading west after all." The blacksmith said, looking up. Peter moved over in silence, looking at the new prints in shock. He hadn't expected there to be any more prints because he had made the first prints... if there were new ones, that meant there was actually a wolf after all. Peter turned his gaze to the forest, seeing nothing but trees and moss.

"We'll fan out, check for more prints, try to herd it toward the grotto." The blacksmith said. There was a general mumbling of agreement as the villagers started to disperse, heading in different directions. Peter remained, standing by the prints for a long moment before he realized he had his own part to play. The young man brushed some of his brown hair out of his eyes before he moved with the group toward the trees along the crest of the hill.

****

Minutes had given way to hours and with each passing moment the sun sank into the horizon. The blue skies turned orange and purple and then finally black. The speckled stars were not enough to light the path, though a crescent moon offered an attempt to. The villagers had resorted to igniting torches, using sticks and natural pitch from the forest. Peter hobbled along, his group having circled around the village twice over. His feet were aching and raw, his muscles fatigued. Thankfully they were headed back toward his house. With some excuse he could find a way to get a few hours of sleep and rest his feet, but as Peter moved through the trees, he saw something unexpected.... everyone else, including Miss Marion.

Peter slowed with hesitation, wondering what everyone was doing at his house. The firelight flickered on the walls of his house, a dead silence surrounding all the villagers. Those that had been in Peter's company looked at everyone else with anticipation, coming to a stop. Peter looked around at them all, trying to figure out what was going on... but then the blacksmith stepped forward, pulling something out of his pocket. The object he held was made out of wood, though stuffed leather balls had been affixed to the wood in the shape of paw pads. It was a stamp, a stamp to make wolf prints.

"Peter..." Marion said softly, the only one to speak. Some of the villagers grew irate, others were despondent at the loss of a day. The mob began to thin out with people taking the long path back to their homes, knowing that they'd have to work twice as hard the next day to keep up. Peter looked at them all with a frantic desperation in his eyes.

"I admit that I made the first print, but the others were real. There really is a wolf out here! I swear to you!" Peter said.

"Like you swore last time, or the time before?" The miller grumbled, heading back down the hill.

"There's nothing you can swear on that we don't believe you'd forsake." The baker grunted, moving to join the others.

"What I want to know, Peter, is why? Why call us up here time after time? Why lie so often?" The blacksmith asked.

"I... I don't know why I lied all those other times, and I'm really sorry, but this time is different. Believe me, there really is a wolf out there! A real one!" Peter said. His pleas fell on deaf ears. One by one they all departed, the torch light diminishing. Even Marion was escorted down the hill by the blacksmith, his powerful arm wrapped around her shoulders.

"There are some kids that can't be saved, they're just rotten to the core." The blacksmith murmured. Marion quivered at that, hanging her head. Peter stood there, watching everyone go before he sunk to his knees. His one true love had given up on him. The entire village had given up on him. He was alone, yet again.

****

The abrupt end to the search had left Peter feeling restless despite his exhaustion. He rested on his back in bed, his legs dangling off the end. He'd outgrown the bed years ago, but there had been no replacement and he hadn't mastered teh skill to make his own. He gazed up t the ceiling, his chest rising and falling. He listened to the sounds outside, of the wind blowing through the trees, of the ducks quacking and paddling around the pond just outside his property.

Peter thought about what life had been like when his mother had been alive, when there was more to life than just working. No one else seemed to understand that. When they were chasing phantom wolves around they talked to each other, caught up on stories, discussed stories and legends... at least once they were done talking about how much their corn had grown. It took time to get out of the villager's mindset. Though Peter knew that wasn't why he had cried wolf so many times.

Peter had wanted a girlfriend since he was eight years old, but there were always bigger and braver boys than he. At his heart he knew he had been a coward. No woman wanted that... but a woman might want someone who was vigilant, someone who could sense danger. It had been Peter's goal to present himself as being vigilant, but it had backfired in his face. He'd been so busy manufacturing incidents that when a real one came along, no one believed him. Now there really was a wolf out there, but the village thought of him as nothing more than a liar, a liar that cost them a day's efforts.

The young man knew left unchecked that the wolf would ravage their wildlife. Would the villagers decide he'd been right to warn them, or blame him for lowering their doubts and suspicions? Peter didn't really care anymore. He just wanted to escape it all, to drift into a sleep and never wake up... but as peaceful as it was around him, something was wrong. Something had changed. The teenager listened to the wind blowing against the gate, the old hinges creaking.

Peter remembered how irritated his grandfather got when he left the gate open and let all the ducks escape... and then it hit Peter. He couldn't hear the ducks. Not a quack, not a paddle. No flick of the tail or clack of the beak. Peter slowly rose to his feet, looking out of his bedroom window. The crescent moon was enough to see the stepping stones and the picket fence, even some sheen of light on the blades of grass but not much beyond that.

Peter made his way through the house and out the front door, his bare feet padding on the stones, moving to the gate before he stepped out. The water in the pond still rippled gently but there were no signs of the ducks anywhere. They weren't in the fence line or the pond. As domesticated ducks, the odds of them wandering too far was unlikely, but on the other hand they were right on the edge of the forest.

He stepped forward before he froze in place. His eyes had been adjusting slowly to the darkness but he hadn't realized someone was standing within a few feet of him, but as his eyes adjusted, Peter gasped slowly. Standing at the edge of the forest was not a person, but a wolf... a wolf man. He was six foot eight, broad shouldered and covered with dark black fur. His claws were long and sharp, his ears tall and proud and his muzzle thick. The nose sniffed the air as a heavy tail swung behind him. The wolf's foot paws were immense, almost as long as Peter's forearm. He was huge.

Peter turned to run back inside but gasped again as another figure leaned against the doorframe. It was another werewolf, but he was a little smaller than the first. What stood out most to Peter, however, was the thick red hooded shirt that the second wolf was wearing. The front was unbuttoned, revealing a chest with extra nipples. A fat furry sheath wobbled before the smaller wolf, glistening with moisture in the moonlight. Yellow eyes bore into Peter's as the wolf licked his muzzle.

"That was quite the prank you pulled on everyone earlier." A deep gravely voice came from the tree line. Peter turned, facing the larger wolf.

"You saw it? You were here the whole time?" Peter asked.

"We saw the prints you left and assumed another wolf had moved into the area, but when we looked into it... well, we just found you." The younger wolf said with a smirk.

"It takes a lot of guts to play a trick on so many people. You had to know that they'd hate you." The larger wolf murmured.

"H... Hate me? They're just mad, aren't they?" Peter asked.

"Well, they may say they'll forgive you but in their hearts they'll always remember what you did, wonder if you're doing it again. But it isn't the end of the world. As wolves, we know what it is like to be hated." The younger wolf said.

"You do?" Peter asked, still feeling trapped between the two wolves, standing at the gate to his property.

"We're wolves, of course we know what its like. We just want to live but everyone tries to kill us just for being around... We don't want to eat everything, just enough to survive. You, on the other hand, have so many and you keep accumulating more than you could ever ea." the older wolf said.

"Like our ducks..." Peter murmured. The older wolf gave a slight grin before he nodded.

"We would have shared if you wanted." The wolf replied.

"I don't even know your names." Peter replied.

"Well my young friend behind you is Red, but most people call me Bad." The older wolf said.

"Bad? That's your name?" Peter asked in surprise.

"People have been calling me a bad boy my entire life. I guess it stuck." the big wolf smirked.

"Did you always live in these woods? Were you here the whole time?" Peter asked. Bad glanced over to Red at that. Red shrugged.

"I used to live with my sister at the other end of the Zussen path... but one day she went to visit Grandma and never came back. Left alone, what else was there to do than find a new family? Bad took me in, gave me strength and love... turned me into a wolf." Red whispered. Peter's eyes widened.

"Y... You were a human?" Peter whispered. Red stepped off the porch and moved along the stepping stones, coming up behind Peter. He reached a paw around, sliding it up into Peter's shirt, resting it on his stomach. A clawed finger stroked his belly button as the wolf leaned in, running his fuzzy chin on Peter's neck.

"I used to chop fire wood, bake and gather, taking care of my sister. I was a human boy just like you... but then I found a better life." Red whispered, "That was the day the big bad wolf found me." Red whispered. Peter felt strange, uncomfortable and yet tingly all over. He'd only felt that way with girls before. He pulled away from the wolf's embrace, taking a few more steps out into the cold breeze as he looked at them both. They were so big and strong and furry and dangerous.

"But what would your sister think? Or your grandma?" Peter asked.

"Isn't it more important what people think about you Peter?" Bad asked, looking out to the glimmering candle light in the windows of the village houses. Peter followed his gaze, going quiet. Bad moved closer to Peter slowly, step by step, "Are they telling their children the story of the boy that cried wolf? Warning people over and over again until no one came and he was gobbled up?" Bad whispered.

"Are you going to eat me?!" Peter asked sharply.

"If we do, I promise you'll love it... and ask for it over and over again." Red grinned.

"Peter, humans live for themselves. Even when they raise young, its to carry on their legacy and story, to do work for them. You've tried to fit into this place, but you're like a lone wolf, on your own. You need a pack. You need brotherhood and love, love you'll never get from those fickle humans." Bad said with a smile.

"And... wolves offer that kind of love?" Peter asked. Bad reached over, resting a paw on Peter's cheek, turning him to face Red. Red's fur was a dark black too, but his eyes were intensely amber. His nose was wet, his lips hiding sharp fangs, his ears perked. While he looked very much like a wolf, there was a squareness to the jaw and a fairness to the chin that seemed to make Peter think of twenty year olds at the cusp of maturity.

"Look into Red's eyes... He's a strong and virile wolf, but he has a loyal heart. He ants a pack, he'd be yours forever if you gave him the chance. Just imagine, that fur against your body." Bad whispered.

"He doesn't have to imagine." Red replied, leaning in, tilting his head. Peter gasped as the wolf's jaws parted and moved around either side of his face like he was going to bite it off, but as the sharp fangs pressed his cheeks, a strong tongue plunged into his mouth. Peter's body went stiff, first his muscles... but then his cock. He felt his mouth washed over with wolf saliva as the tongue wriggled around in a wild kiss.

At first Peter didn't do anything in turn, but slowly his tongue started to move experimentally on its own. He felt strange, unsure, hesitant. He'd been so focused on women before, he was a straight arrow... but this didn't require courtship or effort. Here was the physical pleasure he'd wanted for so long without playing any games. As Peter got over the fact that his first kiss wasn't with a girl, he started to think about how his first kiss wasn't with a human.

He was kissing a predator, a monster, a heathen, a mystic and a shadow. He was kissing a wolf, the most dangerous of predators in the area... and the wolf wanted to be with him, wanted him to join them. He was the boy who cried wolf, but now he was surrounded by them... and he had a chance to try something out he'd never imagined. Ever so slowly, Peter reached up, his hand sliding into Red's shirt, finding his extra nipples. They were so pert and thick and rubbery, almost chewy. The exploration of Red's chest encouraged the wolf to press closer, their groins coming in contact.

As the wolf pressed his lap to Peter's, the pressure caused his wolf shaft to leak. Thick strings and globs of clear precum gushed out, slowly soaking Peter's groin. Soon he felt the wetness, his pants sticking to his hardening cock. Red started to hump and grind before he pulled back, breaking the kiss. Peter gasped at that, his face dripping with wolf spit. He reached up to wue his face off on his arm, but seeing the slick of saliva there he did the unthinkable. His lips parted and he began to lick the spit off his arm, licking more and more eagerly.

"You love the taste already, don't you?" Bad chuckled, moving forward. He took a hand full of Peter's tunic in his paw and yanked. The brown material tore, splitting across his pale chest. Peter gasped at that, turning around to face the larger wolf. Bad reached up, placing the point of his pointer claw on Peter's chest just next to his nipple, "You have the heart of a wolf. You seek people to run with, you're not afraid to be dangerous... you're a bad, bad boy. Do you want to be a bad wolf instead?" the big bad wolf grinned.

"I... I don't know. Marion, she's... I've been sweet on her for years, I don't know if I can-" Peter was interrupted as he was suddenly tackled from the side. Peter yelped as he hit the grassy hillside and started to roll, Red wrapping his arms and legs around him. The two rolled and rolled, picking up speed but it was all soft because of the thick grass. As they rolled, Peter couldn't help but burst out laughing. It was the first time he'd just played in so long. He grinned and chuckled, slowing down as they reached the bottom of the hill. They took a few more rolls before Red was on top, straddling him.

Red panted gently, his tongue hanging out of his mouth before he began to lick Peter's throat. Peter tilted his head back, moaning softly, especially as Red started to hump him again. For some reason the feeling of cock on cock with only a thin layer of clothing between the two really felt amazing. As Peter tilted his head back, he realized that candlelight was flickering on his cold flesh, the light from inside a window. He gazed through the window with an upside down view, his eyes widening when he realized that he was outside Marion's house.

The school teacher moved around happily, setting up a very late meal. She put down glasses, silverware... multiples of each. Peter was puzzled, knowing Marion lived alone... but the reason became clear as the blacksmith came around the corner. He moved over to Marion, pulling her into his chest with his arms as he leaned down to kiss her. To Peter's dismay, Marion didn't pull away... she leaned into it.

They were kissing, his crush and his bitter enemy... hours after he'd been ostracized. Marion had betrayed him, they'd all betrayed him. They didn't care at all... but the wolves were another story. he felt the heat of Red's chest, the softness of his fur. Peter looked up the hillside, catching a glimpse of the yellow eyes watching them both. Peter took a breath before he leaned down, biting one of Red's extra nipples. The wolf yelped and released and Peter sprung out from under him, running back up the hillside with a playful chuckle.

Red rolled over onto all fours and chased after the human, running up the slippery slope, though as he narrowed in on Peter he missed and went tumbling again. Peter laughed even louder at that, feeling so very free and amazing. Bare foot, bare chested... he felt the embrace of the night, the moon, the breeze. It made his life in the village seem absurd, like it had all been for nothing.

Peter made it almost all the way up the hill again before Red had caught up, walking at his side. The wolf's phallus had slid out of his sheath, dripping milky white precum onto the grass. Red loved to play as a wolf and already felt a kinship. Bad watched Peter return, the human boy coming to a stop. Bad stood there, waiting for a response. To his surprise, Peter responded by untying the fastenings of his pants, letting them fall to the grass around his feet.

While not yet fully mature, Peter was making a respectable showing. His cock was hardening at seven inches, a light dusting of hair surrounding his balls and covering his groin, a tiny trail leading up his abdomen. Red shivered in delight at Peter's nakedness, moving behind him. Peter wasn't sure why at first, but he gasped as he felt a cool wet nose and then a tongue. Red began to lick at Peter's ass, slurping up and down before the tongue wormed its way into his hole.

Completely unprepared, Peter moved to fall forward but instead found himself in a hot, warm, furry embrace. The big bad wolf held Peter in his chest. Peter panted, inhaling the musky, earthy scent in the furry chest, feeling the wolf tongue work deeper and deeper into his ass. Red clamped down on his cheeks, working so deep that saliva leaked from the teenager's posterior. Peter groaned, his hand grabbing on a furry wolfy pectoral, clutching on for support. Red continued to rim Peter, licking him clean before he pulled back, grabbing onto the naked hips before him, rising up slowly along his back like some sort of dog learning to stand for the first time. Red came up behind Peter, sandwiching him against Bad, two furry bodies against the smooth one. Bad leaned down, nuzzling the young man's neck slowly.

"This is your only chance to turn back. Your only chance to say no..." Bad whispered. Peter looked up into his yellow eyes.

"I say... wolf." Peter said. Bad grinned at that and gave a slight bark. ed shivered in delight and moved forward, his very ready, very wet canine cock wedging between Peter's cheeks. Peter latched onto Bad tighter as he felt the red pointed cock push his sphincter wide. It was bigger than the wolf tongue that had filled him earlier, but now it all made sense. His saliva soaked hole was admitting the wolf cock easily inch by inch.

Red pushed in harder and harder, claws digging into Peter's hips before he pulled back and thrust in again, sliding faster and harder, grinding like mad, starting to build up momentum. At first Peter didn't know what to do. He was a virgin, he'd never had sex before... but soon he realized it felt even better as they came together. He pushed back as Red pushed forward, the two colliding. Big bad smirked, watching before he made up his mind. He reached down, wrapping his fingers around the boy's shaft, stroking it off gently.

"Peter, I'm going to give you a chance few men ever have. I'm going to let you mount the big bad wolf." Bad said.

'M... mount?" Peter asked in surprise, still ricocheting off of Red's advances. The big wolf turned around, facing away from Peter without letting go of his human cock. He held the hardening meat aloft, backed up, and soon Peter felt it... In the forest of fur there was a tight ring of muscle just like his own, quivering with need. His mushroom shaped cock pushed rudely against the hole before it began to give way, allowing deeper entry. Peter groaned louder and louder as he felt it all around him.

Peter was sandwiched by two tall and robust wolves, keeping him warm like he was wrapped in fur blankets. He reached out and grabbed onto Bad's hips and thrust forward, feeling his cock heat up from the friction of an unprepared ass, but that heat and friction only served to make him hotter and harder. He pulled back with great effort and looked at his cock, seeing how red it was, watching veins bulge... but the more he pulled back, the more it felt like he still had in the big wolf.

The human got more and more into it, fucking the huge beast in front of him as he was mounted from behind. Red grunted and growled, bearing his fangs, fucking the human fast and hard. Red had been promised to add someone to the pack so long ago and it was finally his chance. Red thought of the human he had once been, knowing soon that Peter would likewise be a memory. He fucked the boy harder, moving to lick and slobber on his neck. Peter turned his head, unable to resist another wet and sloppy kiss. It was hard to reach but soon their tongues were wrestling again.

Peter's heart raced with the activity, with the fact that he'd jumped in so far. It seemed shocking that he was doing such things with other males, let alone monsters... but it felt so right to be wild and free and unrestrained. Peter kept fucking the big bad wolf, finding it harder and harder to pull out each time. It was as if the big wolf's ass was pulling him in, massaging his cock. Peter tried to drag his cock out, all but the tip. He reached four inches, then five, six, seven... but then it kept coming. He got to eight inches, then ten, then twelve... and still no sign of the head of his shaft.

What shocked Peter, aside from how long his cock now was, was how wide and veined it was. It was pulsating red with blood, glistening with juices. Not wanting Peter to pull out, the big bad wolf thrust his hips back, impaling himself on the boy's cock once more. The three kept at it, fucking so hard and fast, but it was already too late. What had started with Red's sloppy kiss was coursing through Peter's body. Giving into the sex only accelerated things.

Peter's shaggy brown hair had parted over his pale ears, ears that were started to stretch into points. The lobes elongated and sharpened, the flesh stiffened and then soft downy hairs began emerging over the back and then the front. White fuzz filled in his ear canal as the otherwise brown ears stretched outward inch by inch. Soon the wind was ruffling over the large ears, but they were far from the only change.

The hands firmly clamped onto the big bad wolf's hips were stretching, his fingers elongating and his palms widening. Flesh grew out over his fingernails, coating them before the nails surged forward again, pushing out of the tips and darkening into claws. As if that wasn't enough, portions of Peter's fingertips swelled up, rounding into paw pads. His palms followed soon after. Peter used his larger hands instinctively to grab on harder, thrusting into the furry ass before him with greater relish, his cock slapping up against the furry cheeks.

The flesh of Peter's rod was bunched up and then stretched with each movement, creating an excess of skin that pooled around the base of his cock. At first it seemed the extra skin was growing more pubic hair, but the hair just kept coming in thicker and softer, a downy white patch of fur covering his groin. The pouch of flesh connected to his stomach, anchoring the new sheath in place as his balls grew furry as well.

Peter moaned and panted, his voice sounding slightly different as he undulated. Part of the reason was that his neck was thickening and growing wider, but his mouth was changing as well. His lips thickened, his teeth started to grow sharper and his jaw began pushing forward. His mouth rounded out almost like a primate muzzle before it kept expanding, inch by inch. Peter's lips parted, strings of saliva catching between his fangs as he moaned even louder. In moments he'd grown a furless muzzle, but it was far from complete.

The changing human's nose upturned, his nostrils facing forward before the nose flattened again. The flesh around his nostrils softened while still growing stronger, taking on a rubbery texture and darkening. Peter's toes curled, though they too were much longer than they had been. His new toe claws dug into the dirt, giving him traction and catching the grime beneath his nails. From head to toe, Peter was losing his humanity and giving into the sex more and more. He bounced between the two wolves more frantically, his chest rising and falling quickly.

But by bit, Peter's body was producing more hair. It started out like a rush of puberty, but the new hair softened and changed. Patches formed on his chest and elbows and the fur along his groin stretched up his stomach. The hair on his arms was soon so thick that the skin beneath disappeared. Peter groaned more through his extended muzzle, especially as his tongue stretched out longer and longer. It almost didn't feel like there was room for it all in his mouth.

Peter's lips parted and his wolf tongue plopped out, hanging down the side as he fucked and was fucked, embracing them all fully. Red was so excited that he fucked Peter harder and harder, his wolf cock prying the boy's ass wider, though as he did it made room for something else - his tailbone. The bone grew out and down away from Peter's body, gaining a layer of peach fuzz that soon turned into woody brown fur. The tail wriggled almost lke a worm as new muscles formed, but the tail arched up, pinned along Peter's back and Red's stomach. THe tail filled out to a foot long, then two and then three. Peter felt his entire balance changing, his posture adjusting to make use of a tail.

Despite all the other changes, Peter finally could feel it. He was becoming a wolf, becoming something better. He grinned and then moaned before he tipped his head back and let out a howl that echoed across the hillside. The sound was rich and full as it left the transforming youth's muzzle, especially as brown and gray fur sprouted from his cheeks, covering his muzzle before swarming over his nose and around his eyes. In seconds his head looked almost entirely wolf and the rest of his body was soon to follow.

Peter leaned forward, licking and nuzzling Big Bad's back as he fucked the brute. While Peter's chest was still relatively hairless, it was growing less human by the second. Dark rings formed along his abdomen, the fat melting away from the body to form perfect muscles... but on those muscles, the rings solidified and hardened before smaller nubs pushed out of the new nipples. Peter had eight in all, each as sensitive as the last. Peter murmured, feeling the cold breeze sneak between the hot bodies to make his nipples perk, but at the same time that fur never stopped spreading.

Strand by strand, the fur spread inward from Peter's extremities, coating his arms and legs and neck. A thick patch ran down Peter's spine to his waist before it spread outwards, coating his ribs and finally his extra nipples. The fur even grew around the paw pads on his hands and feet. Before long there was no outward sign of a human left. Three werewolves fucked on the hillside. Two were black and the one in the middle was brown and gray. They were, after all, from different regions of the countryside.

Red's thrusts grew more and more frantic as he felt the base of his canine shaft thickening and swelling into a knot. Before long he couldn't pull out of Peter at all and kept thrusting his whole body around wildly. Red tipped his own muzzle back and joined in the howling, but without warning Peter felt the big bad wolf pull off his cock. The cold air rushed in, engulfing the fourteen inch, pointed, red, curved canine dick.

Peter gasped in shock at the revelation, but that gasp was all it took for the big bad wolf to lift the cock up, pushing Peter's own member between his lips. Peter was so overwhelmed he nearly came on the spot, but Bad wasn't done yet. He hoisted up his own dripping cock and shoved it into Peter's muzzle as well, giving the brand new wolf a double dose. Peter didn't last another second before his own cock pulsed, spraying thick wolf spunk across his tongue. When Bad's cock joined in a moment later, it was almost too much to handle.

Hot werewolf seed flowed into Peter's ass as he took gulp after gulp of sperm down his throat, but even that wasn't enough. Soon the cum leaked from his lips and even a bit from his nostrils. Peter was inundated but he took it all in greedily, feeling it infuse his muscles and flesh and fur, awakening the wolf that was always deep inside of him. Peter closed his eyes, drinking for what seemed like an eternity... until at last brilliant amber eyes opened, gleaming in the moonlight. He had awoken as a true wolf.

****

It had been a long night, a night full of fucking, frolicking and contemplating. The moon had set beyond the horizon and the sun would be coming up at any moment. The sky was already shifting through the earliest colors on its way to blue. The big bad wolf and Red stood at the tree line, watching Peter. Peter stood outside his house with a lantern in hand. He looked at the fire contained inside and then the village beyond, the village that had scorned him.

Peter pulled his arm back and hurtled the lantern at his house. The glass shattered against the wall, but the fire and oil spread just as fast. Before long the side of the house was licked by the flames that dug in deeper and deeper. The fire grew and crackled, consuming the house steadily and lighting up the hillside like a beacon. As the fire spread to the roof and etched out the grout between the stones, there were distant screams and shouts and then the warning bells of the village. Some of the earliest to rise had seen the fire and prepared defenses against it.

Buckets of water were filled and the villagers began the journey up the hillside. The bishop was roused, Marion came out of her house and all eyes were on the hill... where a wolf stood by the burning house. The sun crept up slowly, adding to the firelight, illuminating the brown and gray wolf. The villagers hesitated and came to a stop despite the burning house.

"A wolf... Peter was right..." The blacksmith murmured.

"Oh Peter..." Marion whimpered, watching the home burn from a distance. None of them knew that the wolf was Peter, but that mystery amused the former human. After a lifetime of forcing them to pay attention to him, they'd never be able to forget him now. Peter turned, moving toward Bad and Red. He pushed between their shoulders and into the tree line. Bad and Red followed after on either side, the three disappearing into the forest and walking down the forgotten path between the lands.