FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

"So how do we know these guys again?" Hogan asked as he followed Beth up the front steps.

The place was out in the middle of the Wisconsin woods, miles from even one other human, let alone a town of them. Hogan had to admit, it was incredibly picturesque, exactly what a mountain man or survivalist or nature painter/photographer would enjoy. The steep hills, winding valley between them, densely-packed trees caked with snow that seemed to glow gray in the moonlight, it was all pretty damn majestic.

You know, for woods and stuff.

"Um," Beth began, shifting her arms so that the handles of the shopping bags holding the cheeses and dips were in the crooks of her elbows, letting her knock on the front door. "Justin and Wayne knew a couple people from the fitness center, and those two heard these guys were having trouble getting their own New Year's party going, so they pitched in or something."

"Ah, okay," he grunted. "Gotta love how 'or something' just comes standard with that sort of thing. Really inspires trust in me towards my fellow human beings."

Beth threw a look at him. "Hun, I love you, but don't get too surly tonight. For me?"

Hogan couldn't say no to those black ringlets, dark brown eyes, or anything, really. Beth was a serious powerhouse when it came to drawing a line in the sand, and Hogan wasn't going to argue with a girl who refused to pout in order to get other people to do what she wanted.

"Okay, okay," he grumbled, hefting the mini-keg of Heineken. He was tall and strong enough, six-one and one-fifty, nice and ripped. His blond hair, smooth and grown out, caused him to somewhat resemble the professional wrestler Triple H, and as a result had to ask anybody that made the connection to please abstain from calling him such; he just did not care for wrestling.

By comparison, Beth was tiny. Her lithe body was smoothly carved into a five-six frame, sporting a small (though Hogan liked to think of it as "cute") ass and B-cup breasts. When they'd started dating, Hogan thought it would be a little awkward, as he was seven inches taller than her, but he'd soon found that bending down for kisses and hugs and all other manner of "couple stuff" was something that didn't him in the least. After all, he couldn't say no to a girl like Beth.

"Oh come on!" said girl grumbled, knocking again. "I don't hear loud music, so why isn't anybody--"

A shadow appeared in the inset window of the door, and the portal swung open. A guy was standing there, probably late twenties at most, scruffy dark brown hair and thick-rimmed glasses. Hogan almost wanted to ask him if he was a hipster, especially as he was wearing some art nuveau shirt and khakis. Then again, the guy might have just had no sense of style. Hogan could have sworn he was a really young, crappy knockoff of George Lucas.

"Oh, hey, you guys made it," the young man said. He rubbed his hand on his jeans, apologizing for needing to get the cheese from the cheese balls off, before offering it. "I'm Martin. You?"

For a second, Hogan thought he saw a flicker of annoyance cross his girlfriend's face; it was a little douchey of Martin to ignore the bags on her arms to shake hands.

But the shadow vanished as fast as it had appeared, and Beth took Martin's hand, smiling and making sure the bags didn't slide forward and possibly fall to the deck.

"Hi!" she beamed. "I'm Beth. This is my boyfriend, Hogan. We're friends of Wayne and Justin, from the fitness center."

"Right, right," Martin said, nodding. He still hadn't invited them in. "I'm pretty sure I've seen them in some of the classes I've taken at the center. I'm all about pilates, you know, toning the package and all that sort of thing. Think it's really going to work out for me in the end."

Oh my god, this guy's an idiot, Hogan thought, frowning. And if he was getting this irritated, then that meant Beth...

"Hey, look," the girl in question said, "do you have this stuff, heat, in your house? I mean, I've been trying to lose some weight by freezing myself alive, and Hogan wants to find out very badly how long it takes before hypothermia sets in, but we're just really curious if you have heat inside."

Martin stared at her, mouth open slightly, as if he didn't get in the least that he was being more or less insulted for his lack of manners. After a few seconds, he got the drift of Beth's sarcastic tone, and offered them entry.

"Can't thank you enough," Beth said, the saccharine sweetness of her voice tempting Hogan to grin.

As he passed Martin, he mumbled, "Hipster," not caring if the inept little clod heard him or not.

Inside, they found an open kitchen, the counter separating the cookery from the living room. A small group of people were chatting, with the TV not even turned on to catch a game or concert or live countdown broadcast from any of the major networks. Hogan wondered if it was even plugged in.

"Beer goes here, bro!" a man called from behind the kitchen island, waving the couple over. "Hey, thanks for the keg! Name's Phil. I'm the master of tasteful liquid explosions. The bro behind me is Gunner." The other man in the mini-kitchen didn't look up from the oversized martini glass he was mixing a variety of liquors into as he gave a gruff hello. "Aw, don't mind Gunner; he gets really into mixing some crazy concoctions. Maybe even as crazy as mine!"

Setting the mini-keg down, he asked, "You two want something to drink? Got a damn broad selection." He waved to the counter behind him, which was filled to the brim with bottles of all make and model; one of them was even a skull. "We even got some of those wacky brews. You know, the stuff they give silly names like 'Bad Elf' and shit."

He turned away from them, snapping up a couple of dark brown bottles with a label of black, embossed golden letters declaring its name: "Full Moon Ale." Hogan and Beth each accepted a bottle, thankful that the caps were of the twist-off type as opposed to needing an opener.

The blond man took a whiff and his face scrunched up. To him, the beer gave off a sharp, tangy, kind of earthy aroma, like dirt--good dirt, but dirt nonetheless. He took an experimental swig of it, swishing it around his mouth as he tried to liken it to a brand he was more familiar with. Nothing came to mind, however, and he was forced to simply send it all the way down the hatch.

Shrugging, he told Phil, "Not bad, but I wouldn't say it's that great. How much of it do you have?"

The other man jerked a thumb to the loaded counter behind himself. "Maybe a dozen bottles. One of the others must have brought it in, because me and Gunner don't pick up stuff that we don't know. My guess is whoever was selling it marked it low to get rid of it, if it tastes as run-of-the-mill as you say."

Hogan laughed. "Not that bad, just kind of...hard to place." He took another swig, absently noting that the flavor seemed to improve with continued imbibing.

"I like it!" Beth said, and it was obvious: her face was a bit lit up, like an entire sack of extra Christmas presents had been delivered just for her. Putting the bottle to her lips, she arched her back and tipped the glass container straight up, sucking down a good third of her drink. When she stopped, she gave a throaty "Aaaahhh!" of contentment. "This stuff tastes great! Medium body, I'd say, but it's got zest! Hey, do me a favor and keep those just for me and Hogan? You've got plenty of other brews."

Phil laughed but nodded. "Yeah, okay. I'm cool with that. Not like we're charging, you know?"

Hogan didn't get what Beth saw in the booze, but wasn't going to argue. He took another sip (the flavor again improved a bit, but not significantly) and moved to speak with a couple of friends from the center, who were busy playing checkers, of all things, over by the window.

"Frank, Gwen, how's it going?" he greeted, slapping his hand into Frank's, squeezing tight ("Hey now, big guy, only got the one to shake with!" Frank playfully complained). "You two look well."

"Oh yeah, we're doing fine," the other man said. He was a little older than Hogan, just past 30 a few months back, and Gwen was older still, nearly forty. But the two of them were good friends of Hogan and Beth's, frequenting the fitness classes (Frank going for running while Gwen dabbled in yoga and meditation).

"What's that you've got?" Gwen asked, pointing to the beer. "I can smell it already, and it reeks." Her face scrunched up sourly, as if the beer was toxic waste. "It's no Chianti."

Hogan rolled his eyes while Frank chuckled. "Will you get a load of her, not understanding how beer works at her age?"

But Hogan was starting to filter out what his friend was saying. It wasn't like he didn't care about Frank or Gwen, the three of them were on pretty good terms, it was just...something inside made him not really give too much of a damn about their latest goings-on. It was as if a screen had been inserted in each ear to block out all the casual nonsense of the world, letting in only the important bits.

He took another gulp of the ale. As it went down his pipe, he felt more at ease. It didn't even enter his mind that he might be experiencing the effects of a mood-altering drug: to him, the beer was finally showing its worth, putting him into a relaxed state and working up a buzz. Besides, he'd burn it off soon enough, and he didn't need to work for another couple days, so spending the night in another's den---

He shook his head. Den? Where did that come from? Oh. Yeah. The living room was sometimes called a "den." He must have been more irritated at that prick Martin than he realized if he was starting to get this worked up. Little douche, treating Beth like that, nobody treated his mate like that.

The bottle met his lips again, but he realized with a start that there wasn't so much as a single drop left within it. Scowling, he excused himself and got another.

"You're pacing yourself better than your girl," Phil said as he handed over the second bottle. "You might want to make sure you're the one driving, okay? No sense getting yourselves hurt."

Hogan blinked. "What are you talking about?"

Phil's eyebrows rose. "You didn't see her come up here again? She's on her third beer, man. She's gonna get sick pounding it like that. I mean, unless she's a secret heavyweight or something, because you two have only been here for less than an hour, right?"

Hogan took the bottle and scanned the room for Beth. He found her off to the side, standing in a doorway, apparently deep in conversation with another female. He felt a tad easier, not just that he knew where she was, but that she wasn't with another male. He was a big guy, and he could stand up for himself, defend his mate when needed, but he didn't want to ruin the party.

Beth glanced over at him, their eyes meeting for a second, before she went back to talking to the other woman.

Hogan went over to them.

***********************************************************

Beth really, _really_liked this Full Moon Ale. She didn't understand how Hogan couldn't get just how damn good it was, but he didn't hate it either, and that was a start. The young woman couldn't get enough of it, knocking it back like it was ordinary water instead of alcohol.

Once she had started on her second bottle, she had found a doorframe to lean against, chatting up another young lady. The entire time, she nursed her drink, savoring every drop. In fact, she wondered how she had never heard of it before: with a taste and an effect this good, the thing should be selling pretty well, never mind the name.

At least Hogan is starting to like it, she thought, nodding at whatever it was the other female was saying. Really, the more of this honey she drank, the more she was able to come to grips with the people around her. They weren't bad, honestly, but they were a little...well, beneath her. She wasn't one to consider herself better than others, like some imperious bitch, but frankly, she was a go-getter and knew how and when and what to do. She deferred to others when needed, sure, including her mate, but she wasn't some damn submissive, she was a dominant, an_alpha female_.

Gonna need a pack, though, she thought, chugging the last of her bottle. Immediately getting a third, she returned to the frame, letting this Samantha or Sally or whoever pick up the story of how her Billy or Barry or who-gives-a-shit lost his job in an economy that sucks because nobody in the pack looks out for one another. Stupid delta bitch, Beth thought, drinking some more.

Across the room, Hogan was getting another bottle of FMA. Beth didn't know if it was his second or his fifth, though she hoped it was the later. The more of it she guzzled, the more she wanted to have buzzed sex--no, no, that wasn't right. With a frown, she realized she didn't want sex with her mate, that was something some dumb filly would do, fucking every cock in a herd.

Beth didn't want sex--she wanted to mate. She wanted to rut her big sexy lover until he knotted her and filled her up with his puppies. God, she wanted puppies so bad!

She blinked as if suddenly waking up, prompting the other girl to ask what she'd gotten in her eye. Ignoring her, the raven-haired woman found Hogan again, getting his next drink, and their eyes held for a second before she turned back to what's-her-face, insisting that she was fine, easily lying.

She felt fine for real when Hogan came over.

"Doing all right, babe?"

A wave of relief rolled over her at his words. It was reassuring, comforting, to her that he was making clear that she was his, not belonging to someone less worthy.

"Yeah," she said, smiling. "Hogan, god, this beer is really giving me a buzz. Do you think--" She leaned in, taking a second to deeply inhale her mate's scent and relishing it, before she whispered, "--We can have buzzed sex? 'Cause Hogan, I really, really, really wanna rut right now."

He pulled back and gave her a surprised look, but his eyes narrowed in thought as he considered. Beth felt like her breath was harder to catch. What if Hogan said no? She hadn't caught him looking at any other females tonight and--no, no she had seen him with one of those women from the fitness center. Gwen, wasn't it?

Beth's mood dropped. Hogan was totally loyal to her, and Gwen was with someone, last Beth had checked. But the older some people got, the vainer they got, preying upon others' mates as if they weren't already taken. She could feel bile building up inside of her stomach, her mood darkening--

"All right," Hogan said, snapping her back to reality. "But are you all right? You've been hitting the booze a lot more than I have."

"I'm fine, I'm fine," she insisted.

Grabbing his hand, she pulled him away and into the foyer, turning up the stairs. She paused, though, and looked back at him.

"Hogan? Were you checking out that old bitch Gwen?" she asked. Her voice was soft and low and serious, the voice of a devoted lover dangerously suspicious of having been cheated upon. "Were you?"

He stared at her, taken aback, but grew serious himself as he said, "No. If I wanted another female, I'd have picked another."

He moved up to the same step as her and put his arms around her waist, pulling her in close and holding her tight against his muscled chest. All of her jealousy vanished, and she nuzzled into him, again relishing his husky scent. Her nails gently dragged down his back.

"Hogan, I love you," she said softly, and he returned it, kissing the top of her head.

"Now who wanted to mate?" he asked in a playful tone. "Who wants to get knotted?"

Her nails--god, why couldn't she have claws?!--dug into his back as she looked up at him, a fierce, lusty smile on her face. "I do!"

He chuckled as he picked her up and carried her fireman-style to the master bedroom. He could literally smell the homeowner's odor (which he thought was weak, fitting for a weak excuse for a male) emanating from the chamber, and felt a savage pride at the idea that he was going to completely annihilate the little toerag's scent with a hardcore mating.

Me and Beth, he thought, giving his mate a squeeze. Me and Beth are gonna fuck all over your tacky sheets. Hogan also had zero trouble picking up the scent radiating from Beth's crotch, her arousal filling his nostrils.

He kicked the door shut when they entered the master bedroom, smirking as he tossed his mate onto the bed. She squealed and giggled. Panting with excitement, Beth began to strip, keeping her eyes on Hogan as she practically ripped her clothes off, throwing them aside.

The blond was a bit more restrained, taking his clothes off more slowly. The pace was almost agonizing for her, watching him reveal his masculinity piecemeal as opposed to just unleashing the beast upon her.

"Oh for god's sake," she said, "just get over here and fuck my brains out already."

"It's coming," he chuckled. Removing the last article, he looked at his lover, drinking in with his eyes her soft complexion and beautiful hair and just-right tits, tits that would soon be swelling with milk to nurture their pups. "God, Beth, you look beautiful..."

She leaned back on her knees, spreading her arms. "Get over here and show me you mean that, Mr. Alpha Male."

He growled at the challenge, stalking to the bed and climbing on. Grabbing the back of her head, he locked their lips together, tongues wrestling. They fell onto their sides, bodies grinding against each other.

They broke apart, taking deep breaths and holding each other's gaze. The lust between them was so electric that it was almost tangible.

"Do it," she gasped. "Do it right the hell now."

He obliged, getting behind her on his knees while she got onto all fours. She turned her head to look back at him, eyes shining with anticipation and love-borne lust.

In that moment, Hogan saw things as they were, and as they were meant to be: Beth was covered in a magnificent coat of fur, a wondrous and sexy she-wolf waiting for her mate to bless her with pups, eager to become a mother, her tail raised and her body ready. And he, he was a male, her male, her alpha wolf, about to breed his mate and show her that she'd made the right choice in becoming his.

He didn't remember entering her. It wasn't the first time they'd made love, but it was the greatest passion-session they had ever had up to then. Hogan felt more powerful than he ever had before, his muscles rippling and his thrusts shaking Beth and the bed, causing her to release deep, soul-borne moans, her nails all but ripping into the sheets. She bucked back against him, meeting his thrusts with timing granted by her instincts, doing everything she could to grant him the deepest penetration.

As they mated, the ale took effect to staggering heights. Neither paid the least bit of attention as their bodies were changed: faces pushed out, mouths becoming muzzles; ears thinned and lengthened; rough pads appeared on the soles of their feet; fleshy nubs swelled from above their anal valleys, sprouting into tails; nails became claws and teeth became fangs; and fur grew everywhere, thick and luscious pelts covering them.

The last two touches were special: little teats popped up, six more of them running in parallel lines from Beth's chest to her belly; and Hogan's cock changed, the flesh becoming a juicy red as the base swelled into a knot.

His cock's final shift spurring him on, Hogan pounded his hips against Beth's harder and harder, their pelvises slamming together. A part of him, his breeding instinct, could feel, actually goddamn feel, his cock getting closer and closer to Beth's womb, her innermost place, his ultimate goal. And yet, that same instinct told him that, as hard as he was trying, it simply was not good enough, that his mighty cock kept falling short of its target.

He gritted his teeth--no, his fangs--as he did everything he could to rectify that situation. His knot hammered her swollen pussy lips, trying to force its way inside and do its job, locking them together so that his seed would take, but the lips just were not having any of it. Squeals, shrieks, moans, groans, and more erupted from Beth's mouth but nothing seemed to be helping.

"Ho-Hogan! Oh god, Hogan, breed me!" she wailed. Her arms failed her and she collapsed to her chest, eyes shut as she was drowned in the pleasure. "Breed me!"

Neither of them cared that, as loud as they were being, they might attract the attention of the other party guests. Then again, if they were interrupted, Hogan would have beaten the hell out of the world's most unlucky cockblocker.

"GOD! DAMN! IT!" he snarled.

With one final thrust, he smashed up against his mate, body seizing up completely as he felt as the sexual fury of his being focus into his cock...and then nothing. Slowly he came down, his mind in a haze but his body relaxing bit by bit. He'd done it. By god, he'd done it, he'd knotted her better than any other bitch in heat had been--

"Hogan," Beth said faintly, catching her breath. "Hogan, something's wrong. You didn't come. You didn't come, Hogan. I didn't feel anything inside."

...WHAT?!

He tried to pull himself together and say something, promise her that he'd put it right, make her cum like a fire hydrant, goddamn it, he was going to--

Blinking, Hogan suddenly realized everything was gone. Their claws, fangs, fur, tails, paws, every last bit of themselves had been switched right back to square zero. It made him want to puke.

"We need...we need more beer," Beth said, and Hogan felt a spark of lightning inside.

The ale! That Full Moon Ale stuff was the secret! It must have been what made them into their real selves, and the lack of a sufficient amount kept them from taking their relationship to the next level.

Growling, Beth forced herself to her hands and knees, easing herself into a sitting position at the edge of the bed. Taking a few deep breaths and using the nightstand for support, she stood up, experimental steps helping her to regain her sense of equilibrium as she made her way towards the door.

"I'm getting more," she told her mate. She threw open the door and left.

A minute passed before it came to his mind that she had neglected to put back on even a single article of her clothing.

*****************************************************************************

Downstairs, the party had progressed, though in a manner that neither the two lovers nor the casual celebrators could have ever predicted.

Gunner, who had been working at mixing various flavors of alcohol together into strange-looking and far stranger-tasting chemical cocktails, had steadily come under the influence of the same beer. He hadn't even meant to drink it at first, only popping the cap off the bottle to get a whiff of the potent fluid before getting back to his work, leaving the liquid otherwise untouched.

But it wasn't long before the smell got to him. Like a worm crawling inside his skull, the idea of trying the brand wouldn't stop moving around in his mind, until finally he caved under the pressure and took a gulp.

Hell, it was one of the best he'd had in years.

The odd liquid coursing through his veins, he started putting some of it into damn near everything he gave out (the only time he didn't mix it was when someone asked for a bottle, which was only twice aside from Beth and Hogan).

Before long, every single person in the room was under Full Moon Ale's influence. The males in the room became a bit more possessive of their associated females; the females became a bit more guarded when not with their males; those without mates started to "shop around" a bit more; and everyone began following a sense of hierarchy, feeling instinctively whether or not another person was above, equal to, or beneath them.

Of course, they were still surprised when Beth shambled back into the party, completely nude and looking hammered.

"Oh god, Beth!" the girl from earlier gasped. "Are you all right?"

She stepped forward to help, but Beth slashed a hand through the air, snarling, "Shut up! Stupid delta!"

The girl was so taken aback that she cowered against the wall, too afraid to move. Beth ignored her as she stalked to the kitchen counter, bracing against it; her nakedness held no shame over her.

"Give me...give me more beer," she told Phil and Gunner.

Both men stared at her, trying to decide which route to take. On the one hand, Beth was clearly plastered, and giving her another drink was likely to make her throw up all over the place, along with a savage hangover. But on the other hand, she was clearly the alpha female...

"Well?" she demanded.

"I don't think--" Phil started, but Gunner obediently handed Beth a beer, earning a shocked look from Phil.

"Fucking gammas," Beth growled, and drained the bottle in a single chug.

Not ten seconds passed before the effects kicked in. The bottle fell from her fingers onto the counter, thankfully not shattering in all directions. Beth hunched over, holding herself up by sheer force of will. As everyone watched, somehow both surprised and horrified and yet at the same time completely expectant of the change, knowing that it was going to take place.

As they stared at her, the room was completely silent save for her groans as her body shifted again, her mouth extending into a wolf's muzzle, nose blackening and teeth sharpening. Soft pops could just barely be made out by attentive ears as her nails warped and darkened, becoming claws. A tail grew out from above her ass. Her ears became more responsive and dynamic. Her flesh became covered with fur.

Within the span of only a couple of minutes, Beth the human had been replaced by Beth the wolf. She stood there, leaning on the kitchen island's counter, panting. Those closest to her could easily pick up the scent of feminine juices that was moistening the fur between her thighs.

Martin, who had the misfortune of standing near the doorway Beth had come through, was the first to become aware of Hogan's presence. Unlike Beth, though, the alpha male didn't need another bottle to transform into a wolf again: he'd managed to suckle just enough drops from the bottles the two had taken upstairs with them to will the change, refusing to abandon the vision of them as wolves.

A large hand shoved against the upper middle of Martin's back and he was sent flying forward into the cheese-and-crackers mini-table, the snacks going everywhere. As every head except for Beth's turned, every jaw also dropped, taking in the sight, the fierce majesty, of an alpha male wolf.

Hogan growled as he came up to Beth, her face lighting up when she saw him. "Gonna knot you this time, babe," he told her, his canine tongue dragging lovingly up the side of her face.

"Yeah," she breathed huskily. "Yeah, do it."

His hands took her by the hips, and she yipped in excitement as he pulled her down to the floor, guiding her over his raging erection, pre dripping steadily from the head. He sighed deeply as she sheathed him, and she threw her head back, mouth wide open, reveling in the pleasure. She rode him, harder than they usually did in the cowgirl position.

All around them, nobody said a word, but with the sight of the mating right in front of them, everyone there became frisky. Hands began exploring bodies, not all their own, and clothing was steadily gotten rid of. In only a minute, every guest in the room was in the buff, most of them starting to copulate, only a few of them lingering in the passionate kissing stage.

Beth crashed her hips against Hogan's as hard as possible, the pleasure from rutting driving her out of her mind.

"Hogan, oh god!" she shrieked. "I can feel it coming! Give it to me! Give me your puppies!"

This time there was nothing that blocked them. Hogan's knot slammed against her labial lips, holding there for a fraction of a second, before slipping inside. Its position secure, the signal was sent through the male's body, and with a howl that pierced deep into the forest and night, he came. Jets of hot cum roared into Beth's womb even as her own orgasm overtook her like a tidal wave, her walls clamping down viciously upon her mate's cock.

Slowly, so very slowly, they came down from their highs, staring lovingly into each other's eyes. Beth leaned down, lying on her stomach to snuggle Hogan, nuzzling her muzzle to his cheek.

"I'm gonna have your puppies," she whispered.

He put his arms around her back and gave a soft squeeze. "Can't wait to see them suckling from you."

"I'm gonna be a great mom."

He nuzzled her, inhaling her scent, letting it be his world, not paying any heed to the sounds of wild sex all around them. "Yeah," he agreed quietly, just enough for her to hear. "Yeah, you are."

_ The End. _