FSE

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There was a chill in the air that cold October night. The few leaves that stubbornly clung to the trees were frozen stiff, and a layer of frost blanketed the earth. The stars shimmered above in the vast emptiness of space and the moon was full, making the frost glitter in countless, barely visible colours. There was an almost magical luminance to everything, every silhouette of every tree just barely visible enough in the night to seemingly shift and morph when watched for too long. Any bush would become a monster to the tired mind, which had set the stage for Sam's unfortunate night.

He was headed to a Halloween party the next night, in his old hometown. He had moved away for college, but it was time to visit old friends. Of course, they lived quite far away from everything, deep in the northern mountains. It was a small town, ultimately inconsequential, but it was where he had grown up and probably where he'd move when retired.

The landscape rolled on by to the tune of old pop songs on the radio. It was almost meditative. The forest was scary and probably full of terrors, but he was safe in his relatively comfortable car. Still, he couldn't shake a small detail that kept worrying him; he hadn't serviced the vehicle in quite a while, and hadn't planned on any long trips such as this one. The party had been planned and decided on short notice. It wasn't ideal.

He looked at himself in the mirror, and an average 20-something male stared back at him. He had the typical Norwegian look, with blonde, half-long hair and blue eyes. He looked tired, but that's how it was when you worked overtime almost every day. The city life was wearing him down slowly but surely, and Sam reminded himself of his promise to eventually leave it behind, before he was too worn out to work anything else. At this point, he would've preferred almost anything, any escape. Even if it was something as menial as shovelling dung on a farm. At least his physique was still good for that, if a little skinny. Plus, an old car like this was already a great match for that kind of work, he mused.

With a sad cough, the motor gave up, and the old white Volvo came to a slow stop. Sam punched the steering wheel, triggering the horn and startling himself.

“Fucking piece of shit…" he muttered angrily. This was not a good place or time to stop for the night, in between two small backwater towns in the mountains of Norway. He checked his phone and noted there was no coverage, which didn't surprise him. It'd be least fifty kilometres to either one of the towns. If lucky, one might find an emergency phonebooth somewhere closer. But that'd require getting out of the car and into the frosty night. The other option was sleeping in the car, which would get cold too.

It wasn't that he was in mortal danger. The situation wasn't that bad. It was that his choices were intense discomfort outside and walking, or intense discomfort trying to sleep in an icy cold car with barely enough space to stretch his legs.

Grumbling, Sam opened the door and stepped outside. He'd place out the warning triangle and then set off towards his destination. Chances were he'd find one of those phones, call a tow truck, and hopefully sleep in a toasty warm hotel bed for whatever remained of the night. It'd hurt financially, but he was already tired and wanted this whole thing over and done with. Cursing silently to himself, Sam grabbed a few things from the trunk – a flare and a hi-viz vest to wear on top of his jacket – and then set off.

At least I can't get lost, he thought, trying to comfort himself. The road seemed to stretch on forever before him. The night was almost perfectly silent, barring for the occasional rustle in the forests on either side, or a slight breeze through the threadbare trees. It truly was bitterly cold, and Sam pulled his jacket tighter to himself, as if it'd help keep warm.

That was when he heard something that froze his blood. A howl. A wolf. Do they really have wild wolves in this godforsaken wasteland?

Sam turned around. How long had he walked? Suddenly, he wanted nothing more than to be inside his broken-down, miserable car. Wolves didn't normally attack people, did they? It didn't matter, he wasn't going to risk it. A thousand thoughts ran through Sam's mind simultaneously. Stiffly, he started walking the other way. Not running. That might attract the wolf? Was it just one wolf, or several? It was always packs, wasn't it? Would they come after him…?

He had totally forgotten about the cold, at that point. The car was still not in sight. The road was curvy, but all of it looked the same; asphalt surrounded by dense coniferous forest, which make it hard to guess how far away he was. Somewhere in the distance, he heard another howl, and then a bark. Sam was already seeing wolves in every shadow, in the corners of his vision, panic creeping in and transforming every bush, trunk, and fallen branch into something hungry lurking in the shadows.

Then, he saw something real, although his brain would not accept it as real, at first. There, at the edge of the forest, between Sam and his car, was a massive humanoid, with the head of a wolf. The outlines blurred in the darkness, but the beast was almost twice human length. The moonlight revealed thick, grey fur that covered the muscled body. Its breath was visible in the cold air as it panted like an animal. It took a few steps towards Sam, who was suddenly unable to move, and barely able to breathe, fear threatening to choke him like a hangman's noose. The wolf-thing's claws clicked on the asphalt, but despite its intimidating size, fangs and claws, its posture almost seemed relaxed. It didn't see Sam as a threat, but he didn't doubt it'd still eat him. Or worse. He knew what werewolves were, and although they weren't real, the thing in front him seemed very much so.

Suddenly, he remembered the flare. Slowly, as the wolf approached, he reached for it in his pocket. He took it out, removed the cap, and then twisted the top, and it lit up like a dragon's breath, casting the night red in its glow. The wolf seemed to be startled, stumbled backwards and slashed at the air with its claws.

Sam realized that looking directly into the flame had temporarily blinded it. This was his chance – probably the only one he was going to get – to get away. He set off running towards his car, which he could now see in the distance, as fast as his legs could carry him. He heard the wolf howl again behind him, and then growl. Seconds passed. Sam had no idea if the wolf was after him or not, but the sprint made his heart feel like it was about to burst with adrenaline and exertion.

Then the wolf, far faster than any mortal man, barrelled into him from behind, throwing him onto the ground, less than halfway to his car. This was it, then. Fear left him, leaving behind only a strange sense of submission, of acceptance of his imminent demise. The beast's breath was hot against his neck, the massive body pinning him to the ground. Then, it bit down.

Very gently. Sam felt a short cutting pain, but that was it. The wolf licked his neck to soothe pain. It had drawn blood, but why…

Slowly the realization dawned on him. If werewolves existed, and If this thing was a werewolf, maybe it was trying to turn him into one. That's how it worked, wasn't it? On the other hand, if it was some kind of mutant wolf, then maybe the bite was to display domin-

The beast flipped him over, breaking up his internal monologue. Up this close, and with the moonlight illuminating it, Sam could see its features clearly. It was, very much, a mixture of man and wolf, with a vaguely humanoid shape but with a rich grey pelt and a hunched, primitive posture. Its arms were slightly too long for its body and ended in massive paw-hands with prominent claws on each digit. The head looked almost like a regular wolf, but the muzzle seemed shorter.

And between its legs was a very noticeable erection. Sam averted his eyes, but the beast growled at him, as if telling him to look. He didn't dare to question whether or not a werewolf would have the intelligence to do that, and so he looked.

The obviously canine cock stuck out of a fuzzy sheath, like on any wild wolf. It was red, pointed, bestial, and downright massive compared to any human member. It was dripping a clear liquid, which Sam presumed to be precum. Was it the thrill of the hunt that had aroused the wolf, or was it after something else?

That was when the itching begun. The spot the wolf had bit had started to itch, and it was growing stronger by the minute. Sam could practically imagine his skin swelling, or rather, changing. I guess this is it, then, he thought, finding it surprisingly easy to accept that he was about to become a murderous, mindless beast. Maybe it was better than dying. Maybe he was just too dazed to really understand anything at this point.

Noticing that the changes had taken root, the beast showed a more curious side, snuffling at Sam's face and licking at his lips, while the human squirmed, trying to scratch his neck, which was now maddeningly itchy, and even painful. He didn't see it yet, but fur was beginning to sprout where bare skin had been before.

The wolf took a step forward and stood on all fours over the human, bringing his fully erect lycanthropic cock right to Sam's face, which certainly distracted him from the itching. It smelled musky and virile, and somewhat earthy, like the wolf had been sleeping in a forest. It probably had. Sam was conflicted. It was obvious what the beast wanted him to do. Hesitating, he wrapped his hand around the slick length. It was very hot, probably due to a higher body temperature. He tried stroking the length like he'd stroke himself, hoping it'd distract the monster from wanting to stick it anywhere else. It seemed to appreciate it, giving a low, bassy growl of approval at being pleasured by nimble human hands, even if they wouldn't remain human much longer.

And then, there was pain. Sam's back spasmed as it began to reshape, his spine cracking and rearranging. The werewolf stepped off him, still watching with clear interest and arousal, but standing further away from the changing man.

The changes spread rapidly now, fur sprouting fast enough to be painful along the length of his spine and then sideways from it, creating a rich pelt. Then, the wave of mutation reached his head, and for a moment, the pain peaked, his nerves unable to register any more of it; his face stretched unnaturally, like heated rubber. Some teeth fell out, and others were remoulded, all replaced by sharp canine fangs. Simultaneously, as he tossed and turned on the road, he grew. It was the same kind of pain a child feels during growth spurts, but far more intense. Yet, with his brain itself being reshaped by the lycanthropic infection, the pain began to change in character. It became a good kind of ache, like the massaging of very sore muscles.

When the pain abated, Sam tried to force himself to stand up. He only managed to take a few steps before his heels began to disappear, causing him to tumble forwards into the cold asphalt again. He struggled desperately to get his sturdy shoes off as his feet grew into massive digitigrade paws. It would take a while before he could walk again – trying it now felt like walking tippy-toed – but thankfully, with his hands bending and moulding into something between wolfish paws and human hands, he would at least be able to run like a beast.

That instinct drove him to get on all fours and stretch, as if to help the changes go faster, and to stretch his increasingly dense and powerful muscles. His clothes tore, barely holding back the transformation at all, and fell in a pile around the increasingly wolflike human. He felt like he wanted to run off, chase a deer, maybe tear something apart with primal fury. Every sense was sharp.

The wolf, having been watching the changes, approached again now that the parts he was interested in were no longer covered in clothes. He sniffed at Sam's crotch, sticking his cold nose deep under the tail sprouting from the base of his spine, and then licking. Sam could barely even notice the wolf's broad tongue hungrily intruding into him, although the pleasure registered somewhere deep inside of him, and he found himself panting, the vapours of his breath forming clouds in the icy air.

The process was nearly complete when the werewolf suddenly jumped onto his back, wrapping his front arms around the former human's waist and trying to thrust into his new, lupine hole. Sam mindlessly thrust back, his new lycan instincts demanding that he let his alpha claim him. The last part of his body to change was his cock, which, fully erect as it already was, reddened to match the werewolf's own, and grew thicker and longer. The foreskin retreated to form a fuzzy sheath at the base of the shaft, and the glans lost their human appearance, instead leaving the top pointed like any other wolf's cock.

After a few clumsy jabs against Sam's rear, the werewolf hit its mark and spread Sam's new sphincter wide. It didn't hurt in comparison to the transformation, and Sam growled and dug his new clawed handpaws into the ground to better brace for the lycanthropic mating. As a finishing touch – and evidence of his growing arousal – a thick, red knot almost the size of a baseball swelled at the base of his new wolfhood, which bobbed underneath him, squirting clear precum as the alpha wolf's cock dug deeper into his body.

Sam's big, black nose twitched as he drew in the various scents around him. Combined with the cock spreading him open, the sensations were completely overwhelming. The night air was alive with so many different smells, and he sensed all of them. The werewolf smelled strongly of confidence, dominance and arousal, but not necessarily aggression. He could even smell his own precum, with an unfamiliar-yet-familiar scent to it.

The alpha wolf huffed and puffed into his new bitch's scruffy neck, wetting it with saliva as he finally hilted himself, but only for a few seconds, lest his swelling knot tie him too quickly. With Sam's tailhole well and truly stretched, he began thrusting. Rapidly, like a feral wolf might. Sam whimpered with pleasure. Each thrust bumped into his prostate, sending shivers of pleasure up his spine, and having the heavy lupine rest on his back felt right, somehow, as if he had always been meant to be his bitch. He could feel the red length twitch and throb inside him, lubricating him up with squirt after squirt of precum, making his insides feel warm and slippery, and undoubtedly more welcoming for his magnificent mate.

Then, the lycanthrope's knot bumped into him, threatening to spread him even wider. Sam barked at the sudden pressure, and the wolf mating him growled. His hips were a blur now, but he managed to hold back on knotting the smaller male. He had turned quite a few humans in his time, and sometimes they'd resist. Sometimes they'd fight back. He always enjoyed finding the natural bitches who accepted their changes immediately and got into it, like this one had. His passage was warm and slippery around him, and every rapid thrust brought him a little closer to filling him with his hot, lupine seed. With a growl, the alpha bit into Sam's neck, a possessive gesture that Sam instinctively understood, whimpering and pushing back against the other werewolf.

He wanted to take his time, but his knot was already fully swollen. He needed to properly claim this new bitch, to fill him with his seed, just as badly as Sam wanted to be claimed and filled. Under the moonlight they rutted like feral wolves, both completely dominated not by any alpha but their own raw, animal lusts.

With a satisfying pop, the alpha slammed his knot into Sam's tight rear. After a few more rapid, short thrusts, he came, howling out into the night as he jerked and twitched inside his mate, gush after gush of hot lycanthropic semen filling his guts.

The intensity of the sensation drove Sam over the edge as well. He felt so warm despite the cold night thanks to the constant bumping into his sweet spots and the sense of liquid warmth filling him utterly, not to mention the new, thick coat of fur. As the alpha ground his hips into him, he joined him in the howl, his own maleness jumping in the air he came, thick ropes of his cum – still a mixture of human and wolf, but for the last time – covered the ground underneath.

Panting, the werewolf released Sam's scruff and eased himself off his back, manoeuvring himself to stand ass to ass while waiting for his knot to shrink.

“What… what happens now?" Sam managed to ask, his newfound voice deep and rumbly. He could barely shape the words, would have to re-learn how his own tongue worked.

“When the sun rises we'll be human again. You can go back to your life. Or you can stay as part of my pack," the alpha wolf spoke. It was the first thing he had said since they met, or at least, the first thing he had said in words. The still-rigid cock inside Sam certainly said something, in a more primal way. He could still feel it throb, probably filling him up with whatever was let in the big wolf's balls. Breeding him properly.

Sam stretched. Even his thoughts felt different, yet familiar, now, as if this was how he'd always been, at least on some level.

It felt right. In less than an hour his life had changed.

The realization that he'd never have to return to his desk job.

He was free.

Well, once the alpha's knot shrank enough, anyway.