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Chapter 4

Recap

My name is Duke Gray and I’ve been getting some serious cursed tail recently.

In less than a week I’ve been in multiple positions with three different guys. Usually my closeted ass would be lucky to get a kiss or a number on the one night a week where I have some alone time between my classes at Atlantis College and my social obligations_._ Suddenly, after being cursed to become a sexy beast on some arbitrary criteria that I can’t figure out, anyone around me gets to experience my greatest fantasies while using me as a conduit for their transformations. Not that I mind. I mean I get my dick wet no matter what but after having fucked and been fucked so many times you’d think I’d get a better grasp of what’s happening to me by now.

Nope.

I thought that having sex with guys in my bestial form is what ultimately would transform any of my victims but when I met Ranger Barnes the Park Ranger - yes that’s his real name - I was sorely mistaken. My curse turned him into a werepuma. Or maybe the more accurate description is a Puma-Hulk. When he got angry he turned into a huge, shredded puma that could send me into orbit with his thrusts into my ass.

Somehow, the curse gave me the power to help him through his anger issues about a former relationship and he’s more in control than ever. I guess it was nice to have been intelligent and insightful for once. Not my style though. That’s something my brothers would be into.

Now comes the hard part because right past Ranger’s station is the small town of Grimmwood. First time walking into a town since being cursed.

Don’t know if I’m excited, terrified or really fucking horny.

?

When the morning sunlight danced through the cum-stained windows, I was jarred awake by the soft purring of the enormous puma lying next to me with his back turned. Golden rays of soft sunlight danced across the swirls of black that made up the stylized tribal tattoo across his broad back. Even in my sleep-deprived state - we really didn’t do much sleeping the previous night as with every night - I held up my hand against the tattoo, in absolute awe at how it dwarfed my hand and, by association, how his lats made my hand look absolutely minuscule.

Beige fur glistened as Ranger shuffled, turning in place before meeting my gaze.

“Hey, fucker,” he growled playfully. “Thinking of squeezing another session in?”

I let out an audible groan and turned away from him, placing my forearm over my eyes. “Jesus, Ranger… As a human, I only have human-level stamina. I can’t keep up with your werepuma regeneration or virility.”

His huge arms wrapped around me and pulled me against his chest, his square muzzle nuzzling my neck and his fangs occasionally nipping at my ears. “Fine. Just lay there and let me use you like a fleshlight.”

“You’re still way too big for me.” I saw the flick of his tongue between his lips and I quickly pressed my hand against his nose and pushed him away. “And you know your puma tongue can strip flesh off my bones. No licking.”

He huffed in annoyance but resumed cuddling with me. “Fuck, Duke. Why can’t you turn back into a beast already? I want to fuck all night every night.”

“Of course you do,” I sighed. “But I don’t know what triggers my transformations.”

His mood and expression softened and he began purring into my neck again. “Sorry… I know this is hard… What comes next is even harder.”

I was fully expecting some sort of pun at that point but instead, I felt his flesh bubble and his fur shift with the sound of someone rubbing against carpet. His body visibly shrank against mine and within moments, he was back to being the chocolate skinned Ranger Barnes that everyone here in the park knew albeit looking a little beefier and much hairier. After the past two nights, he had absolutely given up on shaving and he now had a compact beard wrapped around his cheeks. Every time he transformed, it’d just spring up whenever he let out the Puma.

Now that his tongue was back to being of human consistency, he kissed my neck before our lips met and we shared saliva for a good minute or so. I could feel his boner pressing up against my ass and my own rose up in greeting. Tempting as it was to devolve into sex - and as the only one of my ‘victims’ who could shift at will, that was a real possibility - he broke the kiss and locked gazes with me knowingly.

We needed to get going.

The first night after he had accepted his rage and come to terms with his inner demons, we had spent reenacting the scene of a giant puma coming into the grounds and tearing up the place.

That day, we had explored his ability to shift back and forth from human to puma. I was fascinated by his transformation and, again, felt the pang of jealousy that I couldn’t experience the euphoric sensations of shedding my human form and bursting out of my clothes without blacking out. I played the role of Ranger and wore a park ranger uniform while the Puma ‘mauled’ me before going off and wrecking the main facility. I made a show of scampering off to my cabin while Ranger pretend to wreck up the site before departing.

Reports were filed the following morning and though his fellow park rangers expressed concern, he said that he was fine and just needed replacement equipment. Expenses were sent out but then we were reminded of the fallen tree that had blocked my exit out of the park to Grimmwood in the first place. Turns out, Ranger hadn’t been lying to lure me back to his station just to check my credentials. None of the other rangers were available to help clear the fallen tree from the road to Grimmwood so Ranger had used his enormous feline strength to move it. That was just last night.

Now, there was nothing obstructing me from getting out of the park.

Ranger released me, still hard as a steel beam and began putting on his clothes. I watched him for a moment before rolling off my side of the bed and doing the same.

“Sheriff Cooke will be here soon,” Barnes said as he slipped on his pants. “He’ll get you set up for your trip down to San Francisco.”

“For the record,” Anodyne began, “I am completely against encountering someone else especially if it is a sheriff regardless of whether or not he is a good friend or from a small town. However, we still need to figure out how and why you keep transforming and how you change back.”

Not to mention I had no identification and no car of my own. Grimmwood was a small town. Barely a thousand people. If I went there in Barry’s beat up pickup, they would all know something was up. So the plan was to get a friend of Ranger’s to pick me up and get me sorted with a temporary license and all I needed to make the road trip down south.

That was where the town sheriff came in. Apparently I could trust him though I was pretty dubious. I trusted Ranger. He was a good guy and he understood the danger I was in if anyone found out about my secret.

“You sure you can’t come with me?” I asked, slipping on a borrowed shirt.

“I’m still on duty for another two weeks,” he responded miserably. “I don’t have any discernible injuries either. When the other rangers come in, they’re going to ask questions and if I suddenly up and leave or stay here with you hanging around, those questions are going to get more and more invasive.”

We had toyed with the idea of Ranger taking ‘trauma leave’ after being mauled by a puma and using that as an excuse to bring me to Alaska or San Francisco but we had both dismissed the idea. If anyone started poking holes in our story, they would find a lot of inconsistencies. My presence in the camp. The background check Ranger had asked for the day I had arrived. Where was I when the puma attacked. He needed and wanted to keep this job. For the first time in his life, he saw it not as an escape from his ex but as an actual life.

Ranger Barnes, protector of nature and werepuma.

Go figure.

“If you’re still in town after two weeks, I’ll take you personally to California,” he said, finishing up by buttoning his shirt. “But otherwise, I need to go check of Dr. Price and Mr. Woolsey. Dr. Price is the only therapist in town and people will be asking about his absence. If I can change back into a human, maybe he can too.”

“And there’s Ethan,” I added.

Ranger straightened and gave me a worried look. “Yeah. Ethan.”

Ethan Wagner. Barry’s actual assistant. A few days ago, just before I had met Ranger, he had come through the park looking for Dr. Price. I certainly didn’t pass him when I was lost in the forest and from all reports at the front gate, he didn’t leave. So the question remained: where the hell was he? Ranger hadn’t informed his colleagues of the missing assistant yet for fear that they might trigger a park-wide search and stumble onto Scott or Barry.

We had two tasks ahead of us. To cure my curse and to find out what happened to Ethan. While I could go with Ranger to search for Ethan - Barry had asked me to allay any of his fears - Ranger convinced me that my curse was a more pressing matter. Besides, given my inability to navigate in the forest, I was just as likely to get lost myself than find the missing assistant. If I was forced to just sit next to Ranger and follow him around, I was pretty much useless.

His words, not mine.

It was definitely a jagged, rusty knife to the gut to be called useless but he had a point. One of the reasons he had Sheriff Cooke pick me up was because I would be hopefully lost if I was allowed to drive by myself. Honestly, I had to question whether or not how I’d do driving down the West Coast all by myself. For all you know, I might end up down in Texas where I’ll end up turning the entire state into a Liberal Haven of cock-loving cowboys that need to be milked every two minutes because of how blue their balls get in that time.

Goddamn that’s a politically charged, sexy-as-fuck fantasy.

“You sure we can trust the Sheriff?” I asked warily.

Ranger let out a snort followed by a loud laugh. “If there’s anyone in Grimmwood you can trust, it’ll be Diesel Cooke.”

Diesel? His name was Diesel Cooke? Did everyone in this region of the US have such outrageous names? Then again, who was I to criticize? My name was ‘Duke’. It did make me wonder what a guy named ‘Diesel’ would look like and be especially if he was a sheriff of a small town and apparently trustworthy. In my deprived animation, I imagined this denim-clad man with rough hands, a feather-down jacket where his sheriff’s star was pinned on, huge aviator sunglasses that complimented a thick mustache and a broad brimmed hat that was similar to Ranger’s own. I’ve been disappointed before.

“I’ll take your word for it,” I commented.

Ranger’s arms wrapped around me, pulling my roughly but affectionately close to his chest. He sat his chin on top of my head and let out a long sigh.

“Since I met you, the lock to all the rage I had repressed came pouring out, I turned into a monster and I wrecked up my place of work. Just for that, I should fuck your ass raw until your farts don’t make any more sounds.” He held me a little tighter. “Despite all that, I can’t help but worry about you, kiddo. I have no idea what the fuck is out there or what’s going to happen once you’re out of this park. I’m afraid that once you’re out of reach, I’m not going to be able to save you.”

I laughed softly and reached up, rubbing his stubble. “You’re going to be my knight in shining armor, huh? Come to rescue me when the government comes to take me away and experiment on me or some cult decides to make me their method of ascension?”

“Don’t even joke about that,” he growled, hugging me even tighter. “This world is a shitty place. You’ve got politicians playing god and civilians playing as politicians. Places are on fire on one side of the world and they’re underwater in the other. In that kind of environment, people are reduced to animals. Animals don’t give a fuck about who you are, your background or how sensitive you are. All they care about is what you can do for them.”

He turned me around so that I looked him dead in the eye. “Don’t let this fucked up world fuck you up as well. Trust me on this. A starving animal isn’t going to spontaneously remember you saved its life when you’re all alone in the woods and bleeding out. You have to fight to be the bigger man and actually teach the animal you’re on top and you call the shots. Don’t be this world’s prey.”

A sarcastic comment about being ‘eaten out’ by the Puma made it halfway up my throat when I really got a look at Ranger’s firm gaze, his pursed lips and the tight grip he had on my shoulders. He was very serious.

“Okay,” I agreed. “I won’t let the world corrupt me more than it already has.”

He offered weak smile and patted my shoulder. “That’s all I ask.”

A loud honking came from beyond the cabin doors. Ranger straightened and turned in the direction of the noise.

“That must be the Sheriff. Stay here. I’ll go talk to him. Make sure everything is smoothed over before you head out.”

He gave me one more tight squeeze before heading out of the cabin. I slumped into the bed, sighing to myself softly.

“You have your doubts?” Anodyne asked.

“Lots of them. I don’t know if it’s actually smart to go with the town sheriff anywhere but considering how I have no form of identification, a truck that isn’t my own and have a track record of getting lost, I don’t see what other option I’ll take.”

“Let’s not forget that the curse has thus far managed to elude your assumptions about its functions.”

There’s the clincher. Obviously it wasn’t just raw exposure to men that caused me to turn into a beast and it wasn’t people making assumptions on me and restricting my freedoms because of it. Was it when I was horny? No. I wasn’t even that attracted to Ranger and when I transformed, we were having a poignant moment. Was it when I was actually happy? Again, no. Barry was chewing me out and making me feel bad when I transformed.

So what was it? What caused my transformation. Better question, did I always revert back to my human self I fully transformed another man? After they became an extension of my curse?

These unknowns caused my stomach to turn. Feeling a little paranoid, I pulled up my shirt just to make sure that I wasn’t changing again. No blue fur. No sudden growth of muscles. That was good.

“Hey Dyne,” I mused. “Would you think less of me if I abandoned my quest to find my friends and just lived the rest of my life as a hermit?”

“Would it matter what I thought?”

I let out a bitter laugh at that. “Of course. You’re my guardian angel, right?”

“I’m a construct designed to make sure you retain your humanity. As I have mentioned time and again, morality is not my concern. My goal is to find out how to your curse works so you are not consumed by it.”

“So if I were to leave civilization behind, lock myself away in the forest and never maintain contact with any other human, that’d meet your goal?”

“Not necessarily. Your curse could still activate for some reason. Remember that story I told you? The woman whose husband was abusive and turned her entire town into black widows? The curse will only grow and keep growing until you satiate it. If it were to activate, even in your isolation, the world could feel its effects.”

“And as far as you’re aware, there’s no way to break the curse.”

“Only with death. It can be contained and managed but from what I have seen and heard, it has never been broken.”

A heavy sigh escaped my lips. “Did anyone… you know… die of naturally causes while having the curse?”

“Does anyone ever really die of ‘natural causes’? Even those who reach a ripe age often die of organ failure or some disease. What you’re asking is if people who have borne the curse have ever lived rich full lives.”

“Yeah… That…?”

Anodyne was silent for a long moment before he curled towards my chest, disappearing beneath my shirt. “I wish I could give you comfort, Duke. I wish I could tell you that some people have conquered their curse. I will say that there have been people who have made the curse their own. Venerated as gods or used it for their own ends. Few look back at the moment that they were cursed and regard it as the best mistake they ever made. Ultimately, you will be living a life where you bear a burden that was disproportionate to the mistake you made. All I can recommend is not to look at it as a curse or as a hindrance.”

“How else am I supposed to look at it then?”

“As a quality that you can either use to your advantage but never let it define you. Think of it akin to being born with a superfluous nipple, suffering after an unfortunate car accident or… being born with red hair.”

I straightened and pulled at my collar so I could see Anodyne swirling around my chest. “Did you just make a redhead-slash-ginger joke?”

“I’ve been around a while.”

I laughed at him and lifted my head. “I see that. Just for the record, I find redheads extremely hot.”

There was a rustle at the door and the doorknob swung open slowly. Ranger poked his head in, hat on his head and looking rather formal. “Alright,” he announced. His voice was heavy with worry. “Everything is all set.” If there was anything I learned about him, it was that he dwells on things.

I got up from the bed, moved to him and immediately gave him a hug. He choked back tears and somehow managed to turn that awful noise into a laugh.

“Fuck… feels like I’m breaking up with Josh all over again.”

“Yeah but this time I’m not going to keep poking you every few months trying to get back together,” I joked. “That and I won’t have my mother getting between our sex life. That’d just be creepy as I’m pretty sure she’s a skeleton wreathed in maggots right now.” I pulled away from him, offering a coy look. “Unless you’re into that sort of thing.”

That half-laugh turned into a full one and he shoved me roughly in the direction of my waiting chauffeur. “Okay. That’s great. I can’t stand to see you for a good month or so after that.”

I gave him one more smile before turning to appraised Sheriff Diesel Cooke.

Summary: not what I was expecting.

Sheriff Cooke stood about six and a half feet tall and, in my opinion, could appear taller if it weren’t for his overweight appearance. Dressed in tan slacks that hugged his meaty thighs and polished black shoes over his large feet, his physique spoke of a man who probably played football or wrestled in his earlier years. His broad torso and large arms that were covered in a layer of fat only added to this assumption. The beige short-sleeved shirt he wore was straining against his large belly that protruded past his chest. Wisps of white, curly chest hairs poked out from underneath his collar. He wore a thick, weathered, brown leather jacket with yellowed wool around the collar and lining the interior hearkening to its age. Cooke’s features were soft and welcoming. Past his double chin, he wore a large, black mustache with soft, gray eyes under a heavy brow. Despite what his snow-white buzz cut would suggest, he waved at me cheerily and offered a broad grin.

At least I got the mustache right.

“You must be Duke!” he announced happily. “Pleased tameetcha!”

There was a thick southern accent to his words that begged investigation. I approached him and held out my hand.

“Pleased to meet you, Sheriff.”

“Aw shucks,” he said, taking my hand with one of his hairy counterparts and waving off the title with the other. “No one calls me ‘Sheriff’. Just ‘Cooke’ or ‘Diesel’ is fine.” He winked at me as he gave my hand a shake. “Or just ‘Dee’. All my friends call me Dee.”

“I hope to earn that honor,” I said, wondering if I was compensating for his status as a police officer with immense levels of formality.

“Don’t worry your little head,” he said, ruffling my hair. “Any friend o’ Ranger is a friend o’ mine! S’ just call me ‘Dee’! ‘Kay?”

“Alright, Dee,” I replied, the name feeling so odd and twisted on my tongue. I turned towards Ranger and gave him one more wave just for good measure. He offered a weak wave back, fighting through his worry with a forced smile.

I turned to the sheriff’s big, white SUV that had Grimmwood’s crest painted on the side; a set of five trees with the middle being the tallest and the others beside it gradually getting smaller against a circular crest with the words ‘In Darkness we Protect’ around the rim in golden letters. I jumped into the passenger seat and Diesel jumped into the driver’s. The SUV hummed and rattled a little when it started. The sheriff left his window open as he waved to Ranger.

“Dontcha worry ‘bout yer friend, Ranger! I’ll take care o’ ‘im from ‘ere on out!”

“I know you will!” Ranger shouted back over the roar of the SUV. “Stay safe, Duke! Or I swear, I am going to hunt down your ass and pull it out of hell if I have to!”

I smirked at that just as Diesel let out a hearty laugh, his rosy cheeks almost making him look like a trimmed down Santa Clause.

“Well now. Never heard ol’ Ranger be so forward.” He nudged me with an elbow as he began backing out of the station. “He must’ve really taken a shine to ya!”

“You could say that,” I answered. “We didn’t get off on the best of starts but we eventually got pretty close over the past few days.” I leaned my head against my closed window, watching the ranger station slowly disappearing behind us as the trees enveloped the SUV. “I think we both needed someone to vent to. Being out here is pretty lonely.”

Diesel let out another loud ‘dad laugh’ - the kind of laugh that comes as a single burst and really emphasizes the ‘Ha’. Like he actually laughs with a ‘ha’ instead making other sounds. And it was loud. Really loud. I had to pull my head away from the glass of the window because his laugh rattled it and it shook my brain.

“I hear ya!” the sheriff boomed. “Don’t rightly know how anyone can go a whole month up ‘ere isolated with no one around. ‘Specially during the winter months. No one comes up here and when it snows…” He let out a loud ‘ooo’ reminiscent of cowboys whistling for their steeds. “… you’re locked in, no one to cuddle with for warmth and hopin’ ta see the sunrise. It’s brutal.”

“They don’t close the park during that time?”

The sheriff rolled his eyes. “Oh they do but there are fools that wander up here thinkin’ they can skii or camp out. It’s the rangers’ job to make sure they dun die of exposure.” He lifted a finger and waggled it a few times. “Every year, we get at least one group darin’ the cold.”

His accent was starting to buy me over and I slowly turned my body more towards him. “You sound like you’re from the south. Did you grow up there?”

“Yessir!” exclaimed Diesel proudly. “Born and raised in Georgia.”

“What made you move up here?”

“My wife.”

“You’re married?” I blurted out the question before I actually checked his hand which - to my horror - bore no ring but a very distinct tan line where a ring should have been.

“Divorced.”

Oof.

Despite the sensitive subject, he was still smiling.

“Don’t think too much on it,” laughed Diesel. “It jus’ didn’t work out, is all. She was this high-profile tech guru that flew all the way up here to work with Google, we spent a good few years in Seattle where I was a cop but then I got the offer to be a sheriff here and she wanted to go down to California. We had our arguments. Our marriage counsellin’ but in th’ end, we went our ways. No point lookin’ back at it an’ bein’ pissed. ‘Sides, that was thirty years ago.”

Considering the characters that I had encountered up to this point, it was actually quite nice to find someone that was so well-adjusted and mature. Was it possible that my transformations were triggered by meeting someone who was just as broken as I was and that I reverted when I helped them through their troubles?

Nah.

This was about my desires. I don’t think I ever wanted to be goddamn therapist.

As I kept saying to Barry.

Nope.

“Ranger tells me that you lost your identification and all your stuff in the forest when you were attacked by that puma that rampaged through camp?” the sheriff began. “Boy, yer lucky to have survived that. I dinna think we’d get pumas out this far north.”

So that’s the cover Ranger concocted for me. Would’ve been nice to have a bit of heads up but I guess I couldn’t be picky. Especially not now. “I didn’t think I’d see one either but it tore through the camp. You saw the damage.”

Diesel let out another one of his high-pitched whistling ooo’s and nodded in agreement. “Yer both lucky to have come o’ that lookin’ as good as ya do.”

“Ranger really handled himself well and took the lead,” I agreed.

The sheriff grinned at him. “Yeah, I figured. He’s a good kid.”

Sheriff Cooke was a talker. There wasn’t a minute where he would let pass without at least some form of conversation. It gave me a good gage of his character and it was pretty clear he was a trusting, sociable person with a lot of experience under his belt. One of his stories concerned this petty thief who lived in Grimmwood. Stole from a convenience store. Nothing too much but the kid - barely sixteen at the time - thought he could be tough by stealing some food and showing it off to his friends. Cooke caught him but instead of throwing him in jail, gave him the benefit of the doubt and told him not to let anyone down by making bad decisions.

“You sure that was wise?” I asked. “I mean, you don’t want to look soft to the townspeople.”

“If I haffta put on a mask ta do my job, then it ain’t a job worth havin’,” he replied. “I’m honest to the folks o’ Grimmwood. I ain’t gonna puff out my chest and wave mah gun ‘round just cuz I can. I trust ‘em and believe in ‘em.”

“Honesty taken to the extreme,” Anodyne mused. “Perhaps he serves as a cautionary tale for us.”

“No offense, sheriff, but if your approach worked, then the guys that kid was trying to impress would’ve have been around in the first place to force him into that situation.”

Cooke waved away my concern. “Naw. They’re good kids. One’s a doctor now and the other works at their parents’ shops. It was jus’ a stupid spur of the moment thing. Ya know how it is. Kids wanna rebel. Wanna look badass. If we throw ‘em to the system cuz of one stupid decision, we’re followin’ the law to th’ letter without carin’ ‘bout it’s intent.”

Deep. Honestly wish other people in the world took the same approach. Hell, if the curse was just as lenient, maybe I wouldn’t be in this situation.

“What happened to the kid?” I asked.

“He grew up to be part o’ th’ town’s firefighters. Gave Colin the recommendations m’self. We have poker night with ‘im an’ Gunnar every week.” He let out a laugh and slapped the steering wheel. “Let me tall ya ‘bout Gunnar Heinrich…”

And then he was off on another story about one of the other guys he had influenced growing up. It seemed that in the small town, the sheriff made an effort to at least be acquaintances with everyone. It helped him get a good judge of everyone’s character. Needless to say, he was pretty nosy and I braced myself for the inevitable line of questioning that would bring the topic to me.

When we finally breached the tree line and left the park behind, Diesel turned on the radio.

“What kind of music do you like?” he asked.

“Honestly?” I replied. “I honestly don’t care. I usually just listen to anything so that I have something to ignore. I tend to focus more easily when I drown out everything else.”

“Good to know. Perhaps we should try that next time you are on the verge of transforming?” Anodyne suggested.

“Then ‘ope you don’t mind some good ol’ Grimmwood local!” Diesel laughed. He switched to a particular station which was playing something from a cover band. I guessed it was some of the town’s local talent on the radio.

“They’re pretty good,” I commented.

“Yep! I bought them their instruments!”

Yup. So he was involved in everyone’s lives.

“So how did you end up in the middle of the park?” he asked, humming softly to the music. “I mean, I would’ve thought you’d come through Grimmwood and I make an effort to greet everyone that comes through.”

“Best to be as honest as possible,” warned Anodyne.

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “Three weeks ago, I was in Alaska doing some stupid shit with my buddies. We were drunk off our ass. Next thing I knew, I was waking up in the middle of the forest where Scott found me.”

The sheriff gave me a puzzled look. “You honestly dun remember? Did someone kidnap you or…?”

I shrugged helplessly. “I lost two weeks of my life, sheriff. I have no idea how I got here.”

He gave me a warm, encouraging smile and reached over to pat my shoulder. “Dun worry ‘bout it, son. We’ll get you back home. Might be difficult getting a passport to cross the Canadian border though but we’ll work something out.”

“The plan was to go down to my family in San Fransisco,” I explained. “They’ll help me from there.”

Or face the wrath of the Asian social gossip that usually came with the subculture. Seriously, that stereotype of old Asian moms gossiping with one another was not just a stereotype. It was real. Very real. Thankfully, I never had to endure it from my own mother but I knew my dad had to make sure all his three sons were kept in line otherwise the ‘family’ would cast judgment on him and whisper behind his back.

“Well we can certainly arrange for that,” Diesel said with a firm nod.

“You don’t have to drive me down there.”

“Wasn’t plannin’ to. I’ve got a few friends that can help make the trip.” He beamed at me brightly. “But if none o’ ‘em are available, I can take a few days off ta drop ya off. Always wanted to see Hollywood anyway!”

Earnest and selfless. Sheriff Diesel Cooke was a rare breed. I felt bad for feeling the itch of suspicion crawling in the back of my mind especially with how Ranger had seemed to genuine at first before he had tricked me into revealing my name and running background check on me. Perhaps he got that from Sheriff Cooke but the man driving the SUV beside me just had this… air about him. Like he was just… genuine. Not like there was no filter on him. It was more like… what you saw is what you got and what you got was his kind and helpful person who would go out of his way to help a perfect stranger.

A rare breed indeed.

“But let’s get you some ID first, eh, son?” Cooke said with a grin. “An’ since ya missed it the first time ‘round…” He waved ahead of him at the rapidly approaching town. “Welcome to Grimmwood!”

I guess the best way to describe the town was one of those quaint out-of-the-way suburbs that really had one large, central shopping area and a loose collection of homes stretching out from the one strip. I got strong Victorian Era vibes from it as we passed the over the big, green arc covered in foliage that read ‘Welcome to Grimmwood’. It was quiet, there were few people on the streets itself but it was also very clean.

Diesel explained that the high schools and most educational facilities were actually a good thirty minutes’ drive away in the next town over. People often worked in other bigger towns and Grimmwood was predominantly just a rest stop before heading to the little known National Park. The commute was the one thing most people complained about but those that stayed were usually those who were grandfathered in - those who grew up here or inherited homes. It never really saw a growth in population year on year. Few would ever say that they wanted to move to Grimmwood.

“But you did,” I pointed out.

Diesel laughed softly and shrugged. “What can I say? I always wanted to be a sheriff.” He scratched the back of his buzz-cut hair. “Never thought that it basically means nothin’. Just really th’ captain o’ the police force here.”

“How many officers are there.”

He held up all five of his fingers on his right hand. “Jus’ five o’ us. Don’t need more than that fer a small town.”

That statement wasn’t put on display more than when we entered the police department which was just a squat, single story building in the middle of the central strip. There was no one else there and Diesel explained that everyone else was either on patrol or had their day off. Most of the time, they only needed four of the five officers on duty at any one time and the other one was on-call. That one on-call got to rotate out, of course.

Past the small desks, aged-looking computers and stacks of papers, Diesel brought me to his office at the back of the building. It was just a small room where the most astounding feature was the countless of photographs mounted on the walls showing Diesel with whom I assumed were other members of the town. The walls were covered in them. It was almost creepy in a way.

Diesel Cooke was everyone’s friend in Grimmwood.

The sheriff sat at his desk and began tapping at his computer. “Okay. Gonna need some o’ yer details. Date o’ birth and that stuff. Ya remember yer social?”

He asked for some of those details and used them to check my identity on some database. It was with much relief that he picked it up easily enough. After a few minutes, he hit the ‘return’ key with a flourish and then turned to me with a broad smile.

“Okay! Your new license will be here in ‘bout a week then we can get goin’.”

I blanched. “A week!?”

An apologetic look crossed his features. “Sorry, son. We dun have a DMV here. The order will need ta go over to the next town o’er an’ then they need ta do all the paperwork an’ mail it her. Yer lucky though. Since we dun get lots o’ people applyin’ fer new cards, yours will get ‘ere quicker than most.”

But that was still a week away. What was I going to do until then? Hell, would the money I got from Barry be enough to tide me over until then? Could I subsist on the food Scott had given me despite Ranger and I having torn through half of them to replenish our strength after many rounds of vigorous sex?

“Dun worry ‘bout it,” said Cooke with a smile. “Yer gonna stay with me ‘till then! Where do ya think they’ll send yer license!”

My eyebrows shot up. “I don’t want to impose,” I said instinctively.

“No imposin’, son! It’ll be my pleasure. Now come on. I’ll show you the ol’ homestead

?

Diesel Cooke stayed in a moderately sized single floor home out in the middle of the ‘suburbs’ of Grimmwood. It was only a five-minute drive from the police station - then again, everything was a five minute drive given the proximity and lack of traffic. ‘White Picket Fence Dream Home’ was the first thing that immediately popped into my mind the moment it came into view. There was a literal white picket fence around the property. The grass was trimmed evenly and was lush despite winter already descending upon the northern state. The house itself was made of gorgeous red brick that had little bits of sediment inserted to give it almost a light glittering appearance so it wasn’t just full red. The roof was made of a compact shingle colored black without a bit of moss or waste. Large bayview windows offered an unobstructed view of the neighborhood while the front yard was perfectly cleaned.

It was incredibly idealistic.

One had to wonder how Diesel found the time to keep it so well-maintained and then I remembered that in this sleepy town where everything was within a five minute drive, there was probably a lot of time to be spent on small things like maintaining a fence or a garden. A large, two-car garage yawned open for us and Diesel parked his SUV in the driveway. The explanation was that if he needed to make a quick run to the police station for an emergency, he couldn’t afford to wait for the garage door to open.

The interior of his home was cozy and clearly made for entertaining. A large dining table made for twelve people sat in a large dining room decorated by trophies and pictures of Diesel in various stages of his life. The lounge room had a huge sectional that could easily fit six people, two love seats and a recliner that I had to guess was dedicated for Diesel’s wide frame. All of this sat in front of an enormous television that took up an entire wall. It was really more like a miniature theater than a lounge. The kitchen was big enough to make even the broad Diesel look small. Everywhere I looked, there was some sort of memorandum of the sheriff with some other person in the town for some achievement or another.

“This place is enormous,” I commented. “How many bedrooms does it have?”

“Just th’ two,” Diesel responded, setting down his hat in the closet while moving towards the kitchen. “My room an’ one guest bedroom. I reserve that room fer folks like you that need to get away or just need a roof o’va their heads. That’s why everything else is so big. Fewer rooms.”

“Does he host strays and strangers often?” Anodyne asked.

I repeated the question and he let out that long ‘ooo’ of his again. “Well, son, this town may be small but it ain’t immune ta the problems o’ th’ world. People get in trouble. Find themselves in dire straits. I help ‘em where I can. If that means givin’ ‘em a place ta’ stay even fer a night, then that’s what I’ll do.”

I furrowed my brow as he began messing about the kitchen and preparing for a meal. “I know there’s a stereotype about small towns being really close knit societies but isn’t it a huge risk to just be welcoming anyone and everyone into your own home? I mean, I could be a murderer for all you know.”

Diesel threw a smile over my shoulder before returning to his work. “Ya could be. But th’ way I see it, if ya dun give someone a chance an’ jus’ judge ‘em at face value, then yer not gonna get the whole story. So I give people that chance. And another. And another. No matter how many chances they need ta turn their lives ‘round.”

I frowned and crossed my arms, denying his sickly sweet, trusting nature from getting through my cynical barriers and inherent mistrust. “No offense, Dee, but you’re being awfully naive for a small town sheriff.”

“Then let me put it this way,” he said with a smile. “If you were a murderer, chances are ya’d kill me first. ‘Cuz you’d be a stupid murderer to be staying with the sheriff of the town an’ doing anything else, wontcha?”

He’s got a point there. On some level, a criminal ran a higher risk of discovery from being in the presence of the admittedly all-too-trusting sheriff but at the same time, it was also the perfect cover. If everyone in the town trusted the sheriff’s judgment then sure the one staying under his roof would be the most trust worthy of them all, right?

Or would it have the opposite effect.

“Anyway,” said Diesel, waving at me over my shoulder. “Go make yourself comfortable in yer room. Imma invite Colin and Gunnar over.”

“Who?” I asked.

He reminded me of the two other ‘strays’ that he had picked up in his long career as Grimmwood’s sheriff and how he had helped them in their own ways. Though they were at least two to three decades younger than him, the duo still maintained close ties to Diesel. With Colin being part of the local firefighters and Gunnar working as an EMT for the hospital in the next town over but living nearby, the three formed a pretty strong trio of all the emergency services Grimmwood needed. This led to their natural camaraderie and they still played poker every now and then.

“I admit, I don’t know how to play poker,” I admitted.

“Neither do I,” laughed Diesel. “It’s all ‘bout lyin’ and I can’t lie.”

“So why do you play then?”

He gave me a shrug. “Life ain’t always ‘bout winnin’ or losin’, son. Sometimes, it’s just ‘bout spendin’ time with a decent bunch o’ guys an’ getting drunk off yer ass.”

There was a lesson I wanted to warn him about given that last comment but bit my tongue. I mentioned that I was looking forward to meeting the two and carried what few belongings I had - mostly borrowed clothes from Scott and Ranger - to the guest bedroom.

Unsurprisingly, the bedroom was quite large. A whole queen-sized bed sat against the far wall of the room. Once again, there were pictures of Diesel and other people scattered on dressers, mounted on shelves and placed on windowsills. Honestly, it was a little disturbing to have the same set of slate-gray eyes staring at me from different points in time. It was almost like he was watching me while subtly nudging me to behave and conform. Like each one was saying, ‘Look at all these good upstanding citizens I know and helped forge. Don’t you want to be one of them?’

I shuddered at the implications of this small-town sheriff keeping a tight leash on all the people of this town through subtle mind control induced through passive-aggressiveness. I mean, that was kind of hot. Imagine rolling into town only to be lured by the smell of cookies to a newly vacant home, suddenly finding yourself moving in while the sheriff slowly encourages you to behave while welcoming you. Then you slowly transform into a model citizen, big, buff, square-jawed and with eyes glazed over as all other thought vanished from your consciousness save for fulfilling the small role you were given.

Okay, even I have to admit that was a bit of a stretch to get my dick erect.

I slumped onto the plain, beige linen of the bed and absently rifled through the clothes that had been given to me.

“Meeting Colin and Gunnar will be an interesting test,” mused Anodyne. “We will see if exposure to other humans will indeed trigger your transformation or if it is something else.”

“Seems to be the only other thing we’re going off,” I admitted softly, feeling self-conscious with all those pictures of the sheriff staring at me. “I’ve only changed after an hour or so of prolonged exposure to another human being while conscious.”

“You don’t seem to be too opposed to changing the sheriff.”

I grimaced and lay down on the bed. “I mean… wouldn’t you? He’s a nice guy but… it’s like… he’s too nice. Too trusting. I kind of feel he’s in for a rude awakening at some point or he’s purposefully blinding himself to the ugliness of the world just to cope with something.”

Anodyne slithered up my chest so that he was just barely visible from under my collar. “I honestly don’t think that’s the case. I think that Sheriff Cooke is a seasoned and experienced man who has seen all there is in this world and has taken the approach of enriching the lives of others with what he has learned. He is brutally aware of the cruelties of this world and is trying to alleviate it as much as possible because that’s just the kind of man he is.

“Is he trying to buy himself to a better afterlife? Who is to say? Regardless, I think it is you who is being cynical and viewing a genuinely good man through a lens of suspicion because you see kindness as a veil for ulterior motives.”

That bought a bitter laugh from me. “Ouch, Dyne. Just, ouch.”

“Am I wrong?”

Now a long sigh escaped my lips. “In my family, image is everything. Acts of kindness and charity aren’t done out of the goodness of your heart. They are done with the full expectation or implication that you are superior to the person your are giving a gift to because of the quality of the gift.” I rolled to my side, stretching my arm out so that he could slither up to my hand and I could address him directly. “There was this one birthday of mine. The cousins that we’re going to are pretty well off. Much richer than my dad. They got me a whole new gaming PC.”

“Wouldn’t that have made you happy?”

“Yes it did. But the rest of my immediate family took it as an insult. They saw it as my cousins boasting about their wealth and commenting how my dad and brothers couldn’t give me what I really wanted. When they refused to accept that, they told me that it was my fault my cousins gave me that PC because I wasn’t earning enough to get one of my own. I was eleven.”

Anodyne was silent for a good moment. “So how did you father retaliate?”

I smirked to myself. “You’re learning.” I sighed and recounted the months my father used looking for the perfect gift that would drive home the point that he was superior to his much richer brother. In the end, it came in the shape of a small glass crane that he had made alongside his mother - my grandmother. He spent a little bit of money learning a skill and taking grandma with him to learn it as well. When Christmas came, my dad gave the crane he had made with the Gray Family name to his brother. He made one for everyone.

“And that was somehow superior to the gaming computer?”

“Oh yeah. Because he showed off to grandma. If there’s one surefire way to really win Asian domestic warfare, it’s get your parents on your side. My grandma boasted to the rest of the family about how skilled my dad was given his age, how he was able to juggle raising his family, keeping his successful job and pick up a hobby so well that he even thought grandma how to do it on some level. You should’ve seen my uncle’s face… He was furious at how grandma was fawning over dad.”

I let out a bitter laugh and slumped into the pillow a little more. “It’s… a twisted way to see gifts or any act of kindness but that’s how I’ve been raised. You’ve got to constantly beat the last gift because anything else was to show signs of weakness.”

“That… is a sad way to live.”

“I think the saddest part is that it’s more common that you think.” I rolled onto my back, hand on my chest. “The world is growing more and more suspicious these days. Ask anyone online. Getting a random gift online is normally met with ‘What do you want?’. You can’t just walk up to someone and give them a genuine compliment without being seen as a creep. Hell, sometimes even breathing the same air as someone can constitute as harassment for whatever reason.”

Anodyne audible sighed. “This world has so much bitterness in it.”

“Which is why seeing someone as altruistic as Diesel puts me on edge. It just isn’t… natural.”

“I weep for the world if the standard is to treat every act of selfishness with suspicion. But this is your world. Not mine. I defer to your decision. I will just offer my opinion that this man is genuine. Truly honest. He means you no harm.”

It could just be my upbringing but I had grown up to believe that there were no truly selfless people out there. Everyone wanted something from someone. Even those that are trying to be nice are either doing it to make themselves better or stack their list so they can get into Heaven. Sooner or later, something will come along that will destroy that world view and make them just as bitter and twisted like the rest of us.

Sad… but that’s the reality of it.

Before long, the smell of cooking food was wafting through the closed door of the guest bedroom. My stomach grumbled, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten except for the scant breakfast that I had back at the park before Ranger fucked the calories out of me. Gritting my teeth against being exposed once more to the cloying sweetness of Diesel Cooke, I got up from the bed and headed outside.

The sheriff had changed out of his uniform and was now dressed in a simple pair of bright green shorts, a white tanktop with a blue short-sleeved, button shirt over it that hung open. It put his rather pronounced gut on full display and the forest of white, curly hairs on his chest. He gave of big dad vibes… or maybe even granddad vibes. To my utter surprise, he was tossing around a wok with surprising skill.

“Where’d you learn how to cook like that?” I asked. The smell of oyster sauce, fried noodles mixed with monosodium glutamate AKA MSG AKA ‘Asian Crack’ filled the air. This was accompanied by some fresh vegetables including bok choy and bell peppers and char-shu pork. “Where’d you get this recipe?”

Diesel threw a smile over his shoulder as he gave the wok another toss. “A nice Chinese couple moved in a few years ago an’ they taught me how ta cook a few of their recipes after I helped ‘em conceive their first daughter.”

Ah-ha! So he fucked the wife! That’s his ulterior motive. He plows people in exchange for goodwill. Sly bastard. Now that I knew his angle, my fantasy shifted to one of being coerced by the cheery sheriff into sucking his dick after giving me all this lodging. I’d be hesitant at first, letting my illusion of his kindly facade fall away to reveal the depraved beast beneath. I’d enjoy feeling his cock growing in my mouth as he transformed into a true beast that reflected who he was inside. Then he’d go around and spread my curse, turning everyone in this sleepy town into a sex-crazed, truly free monster.

Urgh… what is wrong with me?

My stomach grumbled at me again.

“How’d you ‘help’ them, exact?” I asked.

“Oh nothin ‘much really. I jus’ drove ‘em to the hospital in the next town over, got them to see a fertility doctor and paid to have them take their tests.” He laughed a little. “You know how it is with guys. They’re ‘fraid that if th’ problem is them, they ain’t a man. I had ta sit Lawrence down n’ talk ‘im through the fact that he needed to take the tests so they could know the problem an’ go from there. Turns out, both of ‘em were very fertile. They jus’ weren’t planning it well. I set up a calendar for them, texted ‘em when I got alerts on my end when Chloe was ovulating and a year later, they were welcoming their newborn daughter into the world.”

Crap. Saint Diesel strikes again.

“That seems like an awful lot to go through for people you hardly know.”

“I’m not sure what it’s like up in Alaska but ‘ere in Grimmwood, we’re all family. We’re a small town an’ we’ve got to look out for each other. ‘Sides, every new face an’ every new day brings with it a new experience. If you don’t take advantage of it, it’ll just pass you by.”

Diesel took his cooked meal and set it down on a large bowl on the kitchen counter. “Hope you don’t mind me cooking Chinese. I don’t mean to stereotype but…”

I waved my hand absently. “No offense taken. I’m born here in the States but my family is of Filipino descent. Heavily ingrained though. My dad is third generation. I think it was greatgrandma that married a Scottish man in New York and got the surname Gray.”

“From th’ East Coast ta th’ West,” mused the sheriff, moving the bowl towards the dining room. I followed him. There were already four plates set up. “What made that move?”

The story goes that my grandfather had a falling out with his siblings over his inheritance. As the oldest, he expected to get the most money but when most of it went to his younger sister, he was pissed. Legally, there was nothing he could do so he moved as far away from New York as he could. Found a job in Alaska and set down roots there. The rest was history.

“Familial troubles like that common with ya’ll?” Diesel asked, helping himself to a serving of the noodles.

“Nah,” I responded. “People just like to gossip. Especially my family. Distance makes people bolder.” I grabbed some of the noodles myself. After a single bite, my stomach fluttered in joy. It was incredible. “Wow! This is amazing!”

Diesel puffed out his chest proudly. “Had years ta perfect it. Had some pretty great teachers too. Anyway, back to yer story. So your grandpa didn’t skip down because of an inheritance?”

I shook my head and explained that grandpa Liam didn’t care for the inheritance one bit. After living in the big city for so long, he had gotten sick of the hustle and bustle. The stress was killing him. Constant migraines and a scare with a mini-heart-attack at the age for forty-three made him rethink his priorities. So he moved as far away from his family and the stress of Alaska to start his own business. The family, however, took this as an insult and started talking bad about him, concocting some story about inheritance. Though they eventually reconciled before he passed away, it was the cause of a major rift between the East Coast Grays and the West Coast.

“It doesn’t help that my cousins down in San Fransisco, the people I want to meet up with, took grandpa Liam’s business and really took off with it. They’re that rich. Like… trust-fund-baby rich.”

“And your family isn’t?” Diesel asked. “I dun mean ta pry but…”

I waved away his caution as I helped myself to the food. I didn’t realize just how desperate I was for something other than jerky and semen. “We’re doing okay. Not super wealthy but my dad has always pressed us not to measure success by wealth. He wants to set him and his kids apart from his brother. He’s a doctor. An actual physician working in a hospital. Whenever his brother boasts about how much money he makes, dad always asks him how many lives he’s directly saved or how many children he’s delivered.”

The sheriff laughed softly but there was a sad, pitying tone to it. “Sounds like a lot of drama to be dealing with for someone your age.”

“Don’t I know it,” I returned, letting out my own bitter laugh. “Being gay doesn’t help either. Well, none of my immediate family knows.”

In fact, the only people that really knew were the random hookups I had when cruising and those that I had met on this journey. Funny how it took being cursed to become a beast for me to be comfortable enough to openly admit that I liked dick. Admittedly, my confession had ulterior motives. I watched Diesel to see if he would have any reaction to my sexuality.

He did not.

Goddamn fucking saint of a man.

“Yer entitled to yer secrets. You know your family better than I do. Though I dun think they’ll take too kindly to you disappearin’ fer a few weeks, losin’ yer ID, somehow endin’ up in Washington an’ then havin’ta beg yer cousins fer help.”

Fuck. I hadn’t thought of that. I was so focused on getting back that I didn’t consider the aftermath of all this. My dad was probably going to have an aneurysm when he heard that his youngest son got drunk off his ass and needed to ask for help. My brothers were probably going to be equally as mad with added mockery thrown in.

That was going to be a mess to deal with.

“If ya ever need a place ta stay, yer welcome here in Grimmwood!” exclaimed Diesel. “What were ya studyin’ anyway?”

“I’m an English Major,” I replied. “And thanks for the offer. I might take you up on that.”

Considering how I had Scott, Barry and Ranger so close by, it was incredibly tempting.

My eyes were finally drawn to the two extra plates and I was just about to ask about them when the doorbell rang.

“That’d be Colin and Gunnar,” Diesel said, rising to his feet. “Keep eatin’, son. I’ll grab ‘em and introduce you.”

“This will be an interesting test,” mused Anodyne. “Exposure to multiple humans at once.”

I wish he didn’t put it that way but part of me was curious how it would affect my change. My thoughts were interrupted by loud exclamations of greeting from the front door followed by the sound of footsteps approaching the dining room. I don’t know what compelled me to do it but the moment I saw Diesel again, I was rising to my feet as the two other men stepped in.

And holy shit were they hot.

No. Not just hot. My cock was instantly erect at their sight and I felt faint; like I had died and gone to gay man heaven. The back of my mind reeled with the idea that in the span of a few minutes, the saintly Diesel Cooke had realized I like men and ordered me two strippers of the highest quality just to make me feel more comfortable. And these men were of that quality.

They were hawt.

Their uniforms helped my arousal.

The man to his right had strong Scandinavian vibes to him. He had tall face with a bit of a pronounced brow, huge, rosy pink, full lips and skin that was like porcelain. His bright green eyes glimmered like two emeralds and his wavy light-brown hair was lightly kissed by the sun. Lean muscle hugged his swimmer’s build, his dark blue fire fighter’s uniform wrapped around his form like navy gift wrapping around a sectioned white chocolate bar. It was possible to see each of his abdominal muscles and his pectorals through that uniform. Working with a powerful hose left his arms thick and meaty with thick veins running up from the back of his hand and up his arms. At over six feet tall, he towered over me. When he bound over to me, I thought he was going to bowl me over.

Instead, he scooped me up in his thick arms, pressed me against his chest and hugged me so tightly that the air rushed out of my lips in a loud, humiliatingly adorable squeak.

“Hey, little man! Welcome to Grimmwood!”

He dropped me, leaving my dazed then grabbed my right hand in both of his and shook it vigorously. I swear he turned my brain into a milkshake with this enthusiasm alone.

“I’m Colin. Colin Dahl! Pleased to meetcha!”

“Duke…” I stammered, prying my hand away from him. “Duke Gray.”

My eyes then turned to the other man who approached me more conservatively. I was surprised to find someone else of Asian heritage in this small town. His skin was darker than mine speaking more of a South East Asian heritage. He was about my height, maybe an inch or two taller but he was stacked. Bigger by far than Colin and definitely screamed of a powerlifter build. His dark hair was spiked up at the front like a little horn and his angled features sported a light stubble that only served to highlight his high cheekbones. Black, almond-shaped eyes regarded me with a little bit of warmth beneath thick, heavy brows.

“I’m Gunnar Heinrich,” the man said, introducing himself.

“Gunnar…” I mused. “Are you… German or something?”

He offered a small smile, keeping his broad lips closed as he did so. “I get that a lot. My mom is German, yes. But my dad took her name. Thus the name.” He inclined his head at me. “Where’d you get ‘Duke’ from?”

I recounted how brothers were King and Prince with a bit of exasperation. This brought a big laugh from Colin who sat down and began helping himself to the food without further fanfare. Gunnar sat down next to me as Diesel formally introduced us and once again recounted how he made their acquaintances.

Colin was the kid that he caught trying to steal from a convenience store after being pressured by his peers. Gunnar, on the other hand, was generally a pretty lonely and angry kid when he was young. He hit puberty quite early and played football in high school. Apparently he lived locally. When Gunnar graduated, he wasn’t sure where he wanted to go as a career in professional football was not on the table. Especially since his grades weren’t good enough to get him into any collages that were really known for being scouted. So Diesel suggested becoming an EMT. And from then on, he helped people by driving the ambulance and providing emergency care while working out in his spare time. He and Colin actually worked out together in the gym that Gunnar had built in his house.

He made it work. They both did.

“Could’ve have gotten these gains without my good ol’ pa here!” exclaimed Colin, flexing at arm. He pronounced ‘pa’ with a forced southern drawl so it sounded more like ‘paw’. His flex caused his uniform’s sleeves to strain, making me pre. At the same time, Gunnar rolled his eyes because he was clearly bigger but far more modest.

My eyes, were drawn to Diesel who beamed with pride.

“Put down your arm, son,” said the sheriff, waving him down. “Eat your food. I made enough fro everyone.”

A single word jumped into my mind and I instantly kicked myself for that thought.

Daddy.

“If you’re going to show off your guns, Col,” began Gunnar, lifting his arm and setting his elbow on the table with a back, his hand ready. “I’ll wrestle you for the bragging rights on who has the better gains.” His biceps bulged, the veins across them throbbing as he flexed his fingers, ready to take up the challenge.

“Boy…” groaned Diesel.

Daddy… Daddy…

“You’re on!” shouted Colin, reaching over.

Diesel was instantly on his feet, grabbing both their arms and pulling them away from one another. “Not at the dinner table! You can measure yer dicks later. Right now, eat up. Then let’s make Duke welcome. We still got poker night.”

“Fine,” both men groaned who had to be in their late twenties to early thirties.

Oh Daddy!

Diesel was like the dad of the entire town. He took care of everyone. Loved everyone unconditionally. Guided them to their best paths and supported them in whatever endeavor they chose. That explained all the pictures around us. He beamed with pride when they succeeded. He was there for them when they needed him. And he remained in contact with them across the years.

He was their loving father.

Shit… Now the temptation to stay in Grimmwood was growing stronger.

We finished our meal and helped pack up afterwards. It was just a little after noon so Colin suggested taking a tour of the town. We all crammed into Diesel’s SUV and we drove down the main strip. I didn’t think that a five minute drive to the center of town followed by a tour would take long but apparently, every building had some history to it. We parked in a side street and walked down the boulevard. Diesel had a story for every building and every person.

He really was involved in all their lives.

Naturally, I didn’t have anything to buy or had any money to really burn. Gunnar saw me regarding a small silver chain bracelet from a shop that got most of its merchandise from the national park. Apparently, it served as a ‘last chance’ to get any souvenirs before getting too far from the park to go back and buy anything. I had a bit of regret from not getting anything to remember my time there.

Gunnar bought it for me.

“I can’t possibly…” I said, shaking my head as he offered it to me.

“I insist,” he said. “Dad would kill me if you didn’t have something to remember Grimmwood by.” At the mention of his surrogate father, he rolled his eyes in Diesel’s direction. It seemed that everyone else recognized the role the sheriff played in the town.

“I still can’t,” I said apologetically. “He’s doing so much for me already…”

“That’s just how he is. The Sheriff takes care of all of us. And we love him for it. If he wasn’t so insistent on remaining on the ground helping people, he would’ve been elected mayor easily.”

That said a lot. Modest. Selfless. Genuine. A real saint.

“Tell you what,” Gunnar said, strapping the little bracelet onto his own wrist. “You’re going to be here for a while. When you leave, I’ll offer it again. I’m sure you’ll take it then.”

“What makes you so sure?” I challenged.

He gave me a knowing smile. “Because despite it’s name, Grimmwood is the warmest, most welcoming place you’ll ever come across. You’ll want to take a piece of that with you.”

Funny thing was, I had no doubt at the time that would be true.

The sun was setting by the time we started heading back. Diesel cooked up some burgers and hot dogs over his stove and alongside some sides, we ate that while we played poker. True to his word, Diesel was terrible as he just couldn’t lie. Being in college with a bunch of party boys, I was fairly decent. No money was exchanged, of course, but we still had fun. By the end of the night, we had cleaned up and I saw Gunnar and Colin out the door, hugging them both like they were my own brothers as they left.

Diesel bid me a good night, asked if I needed anything and then we both turned in.

I lay in the borrowed bed smiling to myself…

… until I realized that I just found the bizarro version of my own family. A kind, genuine and selfless father and two older brothers who accepted me and even went out of their way to make me happy.

Fuck…

I closed my eyes, slapping my face with both my hands and drawing my fingers over my face.

The worst part was… that goddamn word.

Daddy.

Fuck, I wanted Diesel to be my daddy in more ways than one. I could psychoanalyze how my deep seated desire for a daddy fetish was caused by the cold and sometime downright traumatic nature of my own relationship with my biological father but at that point in time, I was hard and couldn’t get rid of the image of sucking Diesel’s dick, burying my nose into his snow-white pubes and drinking his milky cum while he called me his ‘son’.

I bit my lip and was glad that, in the darkness, the judgmental eyes of all those pictures of Diesel couldn’t see me. Despite that, I still kept the covers over my body as I reached down towards my hard crotch and jerked it to the dad I would never have.

I envisioned kneeling in front of him, him cradling my head affectionately between his big, hairy hands and guiding my lips to his crotch. My lips found his musky balls, licked them affectionately, worshiping them until his cock was engorged and drowning me in his precum. My tongue cleaned up every drip of precum and he would tell me how proud of me he was as he guided my lips towards the tip of his dick and I’d suckle on the head of his cock. Our moans would rise, his hips would buck into my face and then he’d cum.

Then we got into the weird shit that really got me going. Don’t ask me what triggers it or why but even with my cock hard in my hands, that wasn’t enough to get my juices flowing. Not entirely.

Suddenly, the fantasy turned to me coughing up the seed, surprised at the quick orgasm. His smile turned affectionate as he told me that the best part was yet to come. I thought he meant my turn was coming up but instead, I felt my stomach twist and turn. That familiar sensation of transformation before I blacked out rippled throughout my body but this time, it was all in my fantasy.

My stomach bloated, my skin turning that lightly tanned that matched his. My shirt burst open as a big, round belly rose up to kiss his. Long white hairs sprang up all over my body and I watched in absolute shock as my entire body grew, tearing through my clothes. A tingle touched my upper lip and when I raised my hands to feel what was going on, I felt a mustache rapidly emerge. I got to my feet as my voice deepened. I asked what was happening to me but my voice, my accent became alien and yet familiar at the same time. Diesel got up from where he was sitting, grabbed my growing shoulders and turned me to a nearby conveniently placed mirror.

I watched in absolute horror and arousal as my Asian heritage faded to be replaced by the pudgy, Caucasian features of a mid-sixties man with a thick black mustache and buzz-cut white hair. The strong chest of a former high school wrestler spread ripped off the rest of my shirt while legs thick enough to support me weight exploded out of my pants. Big, hairy feet decorated by bands of white hair burst from my socks at the same time that my fat cock exploded and sprayed the last ounces of Duke Gray from my body.

In reality, I came at the same time. Sleep quickly began dragging me into its alluring embrace but not before the fantasy concluded.

Diesel leaned towards me, his twin. Our lips met. Two genetically identical men making out with each other. Fuck yes.

Our lips parted and Diesel-Cooke-Original said, “I’m gonna need help around town, Diesel. You up for it.”

Diesel-Me, grinned back and said in his thick southern accent, “You betcha, son.”

?

Ethan Wagner was an aspiring young therapist. At the age of 23, he had completed his college degree at Stella Umbra Medical College two towns over and was now interning with Doctor Bartholomew Price. One year with Dr. Price and then he’d finish his license to practice psychology. His dream was to become a word-renowned criminal psychologist. One would think that you wouldn’t find any truly abnormal criminals or minds in the sleepy town of Grimmwood but he really didn’t have many options. If needed, he would take the money he had earned under Dr. Price and move somewhere a little more exciting to open up his own practice.

That was his dream.

Until he woke up in a nightmare.

The side of his head hurt and when he tried to open his eyes, he found himself incapable of doing so. The rough touch of a rag or some sort of blindfold scraped against his cheeks. The bite of rope scratched at his wrists. His senses slowly returned to him, gathering information that could be barely heard over his rapidly rising heartbeat. He was sitting down. Restrained across the chest with his hands tied behind his back. His feet were likewise bound to the legs of the chair. Blindfolded but no mouth gag.

“Oh shit…” he breathed. “Where am I? Hello? Can anyone hear me?”

There was some loud shuffling and whispered voices.

“Hello? Someone? Please help!” he cried, his panic starting to rise. “Is anyone there?”

More whispering, this time a little more insistent.

“I can hear you.”

Then a sigh followed.

“Ethan,” came a familiar voice if it were an octave lower. “It’s me. Dr. Price.”

“Doctor Price?” he repeated. “Oh god… Are you okay? Did they get you too?”

“Ah… not… exactly. First of all, I need you to keep a cool head. Human instinct in times like these is to immediately assume the worst and give in to panic. Such instincts will not serve us here. Can you do that for me?”

Ethan nodded slowly. There were breathing techniques that he had learned early on in his career. Breathe in for five seconds, hold it for another five and then breathe out for eight. He did that a few times, letting his heart rate slow and clearing his mind of all the fears that were threatening to cloud his judgment.

“Okay… Okay,” he breathed. “I’m calm.”

“Good. What was the last thing you remembered?”

He searched his memory, scanned through the haze of fear before the trickles of memory that led up to this scenario.

“I was looking for you, doctor. You were gone for about five days. I know you usually like to spend weekends up with your patient but your clients were asking. I stalled as much as I could but Sheriff Cooke was starting to get worried. I also know Mr. Woolsey’s situation and I wanted to protect his privacy.”

Another voice, one he didn’t recognize, came rumbling from his right. “You told him about me?” The accusatory tone turned playful. “Was it how sexy and manly you found me?”

“I did not tell him,” huffed Doctor Price. “Ethan, did you go poking around my case files? You realize that is a severe breach of confidentiality.”

Ethan ducked his head as much as he could, his cheeks burning. “Sorry, doctor. I knew where you had gone and I wanted to be sure I knew what I was getting into when I drove up here. Sheriff Cooke gave me a few days to come and get you before he came searching for you himself.”

“I see…” hummed the doctor. Ethan’s mentor and the normally quiet and reserved therapist sounded far more relaxed and pensive than the situation should have demanded. “What happened next?”

“Well… I came up here. I went through the front gates of the park, told them where I was going and started heading up here. I admit, I got a little lost because this place isn’t exactly easy to find and there’s no set paths.”

“Kind of how I designed it,” grunted who Ethan assumed was Scott Woolsey. “And you still managed to ram into one of my traps, didn’t you?”

“I… I guess I did. My car blew a flat and I started wandering… Then next think I knew, there was this loud snap and… I’m suddenly here.”

There was a heavy sigh. “You’re very lucky that you hit one of the non-lethal traps. Seriously, kid. Did you miss the private property signs?”

Ethan lifted his head indignantly. “Just because it’s your property doesn’t give you the right to drop lethal traps everywhere! You could kill someone!”

“That’s the point.”

There were sounds of a brief and light scuffle.

“Easy, Scott. Let me handle this.”

Ethan’s brow furrowed. Was Doctor Price not restrained by the crazy doomsday prepper like him?

“Ethan,” said Barry Price calmly. “I’m going to remove the blindfold now but I need you to remain calm. No matter what you see, you need to remember that it is still me and nothing has changed. Understood?”

He nodded quickly. “Of course, doctor.”

Something rough and sharp, like really sharpened fingernails gripped the edges of the blindfold and slowly pulled it down his face. Light pierced Ethan’s retinas and sent stars dancing across his vision. He grimaced, squinting a little to allow for his eyes to adjust. A figure quickly started to come into focus in front of him. It only took about three seconds before he wished he could rub his eyes in disbelief.

Standing in front of him was an enormous leonine humanoid. A creature with the body of Greek Gods encased in golden fur and standing at herculean proportions. Beside the beast was a far bigger creature with a distinct belly and more ‘body hair’ over his black and white fur. After a few more seconds, he recognized the second creature as having a basis of a badger.

“What…?” he began.

“Ethan,” said the lion in Doctor Price’s voice. “It’s me. Bartholomew Price. This is… this is my true form.”

“True…?” he repeated. “Are you… an alien?”

The badger let out a laugh. “Shit… I would’ve guessed werewolf or something. Not alien.” He spoke with that other voice that Doctor Price had identified as Scott Woolsey.

“No, Ethan,” continued Price calmly. “Though admittedly aliens would see a far more logical and scientifically realistic explanation.” He sighed and crouched in front of Ethan. Even in his current stance, he was still at eye-level with the restrained intern. “I encountered a young man while visiting Scott. A man that had been cursed.” He quickly held up a hand seeing Ethan about to protest. “Please let me finish before you ask any questions.”

Ethan swallowed loudly and nodded in acknowledgment.

“Duke Gray had been cursed explained the therapist. “On some unknown criteria, he would transform into a beast. Must like me but a little more… fantastical. This would indicate the activation of his curse. Anyone exposed to him during this phase who isn’t already a beast would be compelled to enact one of his greatest sexual fantasies. This would eventually lead to the transformation of the individual into a beast themselves should they willingly accept this scenario.”

“You’ve been corrupted!” Ethan exclaimed.

Price gave him a firm stare. “Ethan, I asked you to please hold your questions until I am finished.”

Despite the monster that his mentor had become, Ethan was still compelled to show him the respect that he was due. “Yes, doctor.”

The lion with the little red bow tie around his thick neck that was accompanied by a necklace with a similarly shaped pendant pressed a large paw against his chest. “I was not cajoled or coerced into accepting the life of a beast.” He straightened and turned towards the badger standing next to him. A smile crawled onto his face. One some unspoken communication, their paws gravitated to one another, fingers intertwining. “I chose this life because the man I love had already become a beast.”

Ethan did a mental double take. Doctor Price was gay? When did that happen? From what he recalled, Bartholomew Price was divorced to a woman. Though now that he thought about it, it was possible that the trauma that came from that parting may have pushed the doctor to the opposite extreme.

He opened his mouth to provide his assessment when, once again, Doctor Price held up his large paw - a paw big enough to consume Ethan’s entire face.

“I know what you’re thinking,” said the lion. “My divorce may have contributed to my sudden homosexuality. However, I assure you, that I refuse to be associated with any labels. I am attracted to Scott. I love him. I have for a while. That he is male is irrelevant.”

Scott let out a snort. “Yeah, no. Gonna call bullshit on that, Barry.” He flexed, showing off bulging biceps with one vein crossing across its peak. “You love all this meat and all this body hair. Can’t get that from any woman.” He grinned savagely and gripped his furry balls, bringing to Ethan’s attention that both men were effectively naked. “And what was it you said last night? You could suck on these all night?”

A light blush touched Barry’s cheeks and he made a concerted effort to drape his paws over his crotch, hiding the slowly growing member emerging from the furry sheath there.

“Scott, please,” he snapped. Then, turning his gaze back to Ethan, he said, “Ethan, I understand that this all comes as a shock. Rest assured that this was my choice. This form more accurately reflects who I am. I have never been happier in my life. I have never been more comfortable in my own skin. Duke awakened that part of me and I am forever grateful to him for that. I don’t want you to bear any ill will to him or Scott.”

Ethan flicked his gaze from one immense beast to the other, a pang of jealousy crawling in his chest for just how monumental and masculine they were. They both just oozed sensuality and confidence. In fact, Scott was shamelessly fondling his own balls, coaxing his own cock out of its sheath. He had to fight hard to tear his gaze away from the awakening beast.

“Doctor…” he breathed. “This is a lot to take in… Can I even call you that anymore? Are you still Doctor Price? This is… This is just unbelievable!”

“There are many things in this world that we cannot fathom, Ethan,” Price said, gently patting Ethan’s knee. Those paws were so big and warm. “The moment we restrict ourselves into believing one absolute truth above all else is the moment we close ourselves off to progress. We must always keep our minds open because one day, something fantastical is going to happen and if we just stand there rubbing our eyes in disbelief, an opportunity will pass us by.”

He straightened giving Ethan an eye-full of the massive lion’s emerging dick. “That’s what I did, Ethan. There was an opportunity in front of me. An opportunity to be happy. I took it. It may cast me in a different light to others and the world may not even accept me for who I am now. But I would rather be considered a monster and outcast to the world than live another second pretending to be someone I’m not.”

Ethan narrowed his gaze. “And who are you exactly, Doctor?”

Without warning, Price reached to his side and grabbed the badger by his side.

“This.”

That was all he said before he pulled Scott towards him and locked lips with the mustelid. Their muzzles meshed with one another, colliding openly with tongues dancing between their fangs like two samurai expertly exchanging blows. Ethan found himself unable to keep his eyes away from the sheer dexterity on display that he never noticed that both men had quickly become erect and their precum was pouring from their enormous dicks like rain.

It was thus a shock for him when Scott flung his legs around Barry’s waist and straddled the huge, feline member against the crack of his ass. Ethan’s eyes bulged when he traced that thick, pink member from where the tip pressed up against the small of Scott’s back, sliding smoothly between the black furred rear of the badger and where the fleshy spikes sprouted around the base. Thick, heavy, golden balls swung like wrecking balls as the two men ground against one another with no regard for Ethan’s presence.

A soft whimper came from Ethan’s throat, one that he hadn’t intended to release. He immediately bit his lip, trying to hold back further sounds but the two beasts had already heard him. Scott looked over his shoulder, grinning from ear to ear.

“Hey Barry, looks like your apprentice is enjoying the show.”

Barry Price leaned towards his mate and nibbled on Scott’s neck hard enough to remind the badger that he was the one that was in charge. Scott’s cock spewed thicker precum against his pecotrals and threw his head back while letting out a long, lusty moan.

“I can see, Scott,” he answered, licking at the small marks he had left against Scott’s fur. “Why don’t you go help him out of his pants?”

Ethan’s eyes widened in terror. “N - No! Doctor Price, please! I’m not gay! I don’t want to become a beast!”

“Don’t worry, Ethan,” cooed the therapist, moving closer while still straddling his mate. The sheer strength of the lion was utterly astounding that Ethan found himself inadvertently bucking into his jeans with each step. “The man who could turn others into beasts like us has left. All I’m doing is opening your mind.”

Boom.

Another step closer. Ethan’s cock was aching against his jeans. He couldn’t understand what was happening. For his entire life up until this point he had never been aroused - not once - by another man. Jealous and envious, yes, but never aroused. Yet here was undeniable truth of two men fucking in front of him had him harder than he had ever been before. He could feel his cock urging for release, knocking at the borders of his jeans with the desperation of a wrongfully imprisoned innocent.

Boom!

Price was far away enough that all Scott needed to do was arch his back backwards, once against showing an unnatural flexibility that belied his husky frame. Upside down while his legs were still firmly around Barry’s waist, Scott’s muzzle just hovered over Ethan’s knees. His hot breath wafted across Ethan’s crotch.

“P - P - Please…” moaned Ethan, unsure what exactly he was begging for.

Scott reached up towards the intern’s crotch…

Rrrrrrrrip!

A wave of relief washed over Ethan. The pressure on his cock was released all at once. It was a different sensation from orgasm, however. He hadn’t realized he had closed his eyes shut until that moment. When he opened them, he found his vision being partially obscured by a big, pink, throbbing organ that was both alien and exuding an aura of pleasure that turned every bone in his body into gelatine.

The huge, electric pink organ sprang from his groin. It had to at least be a foot long and covered in sensitive, glistening flesh. The point tapered to a tip with all semblances of humanity having vanished long ago. Thick, blue veins wrapped around the obelisk of pleasure; creeping vines that fed the beast. Thick globules of precum oozed from the tapered tip.

“Well damn, kid,” chuckled Scott. “Didn’t even need me to touch you.”

It was true and that horrified Ethan. Scott’s paws were still some distance from his crotch and somehow, his cock had mutated into this organ on its own, bursting from his pants of its own accord.

“That’s a nice dick, Ethan,” cooed Barry, licking his lips. “I’m going to have to taste that one day.”

“So you’ll bottom for him and not me?” teased Scott with a grin.

“We don’t have labels here, remember Scott? It’s just a matter of whether or not you’ll cum in my ass or not.”

“We’ll have to see tonight then, won’t we?” The badger turned to look at Ethan’s crotch. “For now though, I’m going to get me a taste of this fresh meat.”

Ethan whimpered. “P - P - Please…”

Again, he wasn’t sure exactly what he was begging the badger to do. Was he asking Scott to please stop? To please back away and leave him with what humanity he had remaining? Or was he pleading for Scott to suck him off? To drain his balls and get rid of the frail little human from a sleepy down and leave nothing but the bucking beast within?

He didn’t get much time to ponder this conundrum as Scott’s muzzle closed in on his mutated cock and gobbled it up with one, swift movement. Ethan gasped, lurching forward and inadvertently thrusting into the hot, wet muzzle. Scott’s tongue immediately went wild along his length, assaulting his mind with a swarm of sensations that he had only ever experienced sparingly. His vision blurred as his mind swam in the euphoria. He began frothing as he fought to keep his humanity.

Ethan tensed his muscles, hoping some form of physical connection to his fight might help ground him. That only served to fuel the transformation. Further sounds of ripping and tearing hit his ears. The weakened fabric of his jeans began split down the seams, revealing hardening muscles beneath. The cords of muscle along his neck grew, pushing the collar of his shirt back as his traps moved to swallow his neck. He squirmed in his seat. The rope burned against his growing form, almost comically trying to restrain the emerging mass.

“How does it feel, Ethan?”

Barry’s calm voice cut through the chaos. The storm of his mind and body momentarily cleared as did his vision. He lifted his gaze, finding himself staring at the serene lion still holding the badger like a wheelbarrow.

“D - D - Doctor…?” he stammered.

Then Barry gave a thrust and Scott was forced to swallow all of Ethan’s cock, his wet, black nose burying right into Ethan’s balls. The intern roared, eyes fused shut as his balls exploded out of his pants. Two huge orbs as big as his current fists covered in nutty brown fur with a little crest of blonde hair down the middle.

Scott’s muzzle was forced back, his lips forming a seal that dragged down along the length of Ethan’s cock with an agonizing slowness. He never fully let go. Though Ethan felt that as Scott got close tot he edge, he felt his dick surge forward, driving deeper into the mustelid’s muzzle as if it was desperate not to every be released.

“How does it feel to fuck my man?”

Barry thrust, holding his mate like a battering ram and slammed right into Ethan’s crotch and mental defenses with a force that would’ve rivaled an earthquake. Ethan screamed. It wasn’t a scream of pain but one of frustration. Every ounce of him wanted to release his cum. His mind was begging for it. But the ropes wrapped around him and the constricting clothes denied him that pleasure. His cock spasmed, pouring precum down Scott’s throat. Similarly, the badger’s own cum spewed a salty brew through the air in an arch that splattered right onto Ethan’s face. The young intern lapped it all up hungrily like it was air.

His entire buddy heaved. A deep moan escaped his lips, deeper than he had ever mustered before. When he took a breath, his chest inflated. Fabric tore and the ropes strained. No longer fighting against the change, he physically flexed against the ropes, desperate to get them off him. He gnashed his teeth, throwing his head left and right like a rabid animal trying to break free. Ethan desperately thrashed, causing the chair to sway a little. His toes curled in his shoes, the knuckles of his toes pressing right up against the insides of his cheap flattops.

Then Scott was retreating down his dick again and he braced himself for what was to come.

The question and then…

“How does it make you feel to get rid of all of those stupid rules society puts on us?”

WHAM!

The muzzle all the way to his crotch.

His toes burst out of his shoes, leaving them shredded on the floor. The force of eruption of flesh also broke his ankles free of the ropes binding him down. His own legs instinctively rose up, grabbing Scott as much as possible. Flesh expanded as his jeans were torn from the hems with his growing calves and thighs. Through bleary eyes, he watched the tips of his toes blacken into solid black nails akin to hooves but sharper.

The power that radiated from his lower half compelled him to pull Scott closer to him. Barry pulled away and only got about halfway down his still-growing dick before Ethan pulled the badger towards him again in a bizarre tug-of-war where the badger was the rope.

“To be truly free?” pressed Barry.

Ethan squeezed his eyes shut. An intense pressure was building in his temples. He ducked his head for a moment as the roiling storm within him reached its apex. His lower half was moving of its own accord as nutty-brown fur spread up from his blackened toes all the way up his thick, vascular legs. The intern threw his head back, staring up at the ceiling without truly looking. Two brown growths began springing up from his temples. These growths didn’t get more than three inches before they began branching off symmetrically. There was no relief, however, and the pressure all over his body just continued to build.

Snap

One of the ropes around his chest snapped in two.

“To be free to do what you want?”

Snap! Snap!

That started a chain reaction. The pressure was quickly being relieved as his chest finally had the space to barrel out into two, huge, plump pectorals covered in soft, platinum-blonde fur framed by the same nutty brown that covered his thigh thighs.

“Who you want?”

Snap! Snap! Snap!

The ropes around his wrists finally broke. He was free. He was finally free.

Ethan let out a roar and slammed both his feet back on the ground. As he pulled his arms from behind him, they exploded out of the remnants of his clothes. Biceps as big as bowling balls and supplemented by triceps equally as big if not slightly bigger shredded the last remnants of his clothes. In one, smooth movement, he stood, slamming his hoofed feet into the ground with enough force that it broke the floorboards beneath him.

“Shut the fuck up!” Ethan roared. He grabbed the sides of Scott’s head. Now that he was fully in control of his own body, he was able to dictate his own pace. He pulled his throbbing, sixteen-inch member out of Scott’s throat and slammed it back at a rapid pace. The jackhammering pushed Barry back a few steps. The lion gave him a devilish grin as he began his own wild thrusting into the badger between them. Scott had to grab onto Ethan’s tight, furry ass with his paws and tighten his thighs around Barry’s waist just to remain suspended between the two.

“I’ve had enough of your fucking lecturing!” roared the former-intern. As he vented, his features shot forward. A slim muzzle burst from his features. His dirty blonde hair became the same platinum blonde that decorated his chest and balls. His growing antlers spread up to rake the ceiling as he too rose up to a full eight-feet tall. With his horns, he was taller than the beasts around him though slimmer in comparison.

“Every fucking day you just - huff - lecture me!” he shouted, shoving his cock hard into a moaning Barry. “You preach stupid fucking ethics and throw goddamn mind puzzles at me to keep me busy because you barely have any fucking clients!”

Shreds of denim fell to the floor around his feet as the last of his clothes crumbled around his growing form. A fountain of saliva and precum was pooling around them all. Scott’s cock was shooting precum all over his chest, baptizing him into the brotherhood.

“And here you are - urf - fucking your own client!”

As he roared this last statement, the pressure all over his body began to pool around his balls. There was just one last statement to be made. One last thing to say before he knew he was going to explode. With a shout, he let go of Scott’s head and lunged for Barry. The lion caught his hands, locking their grips with one another, struggling for domination while their hips were thrusting in tandem with one another.

“If you have no goddamn ethics,” growled Ethan. “Then I expect you to fuck me too.”

Barry grinned savagely at him. “Fine. But I still expect you to do your share. You better fuck me like the buck you are.”

He returned the grin.

“Deal.”

His entire body suddenly tensed. All the tension in his body pooled towards his cock and balls, ropes of pressure squirming through his veins and collected in his hips. Every thrust came faster and sooner than the last. Barry matched his pace and though he remained locked in place by Barry’s grip and with Scott between them, he was filled with a sense of elation, a soaring sensation of freedom that he had never felt before. Mental chains rusted and dissolved around him. Society’s ropes were shredded from his cervine body. Bulging, lean muscles broke free of the expectations and connections that would otherwise have restricted him.

With those last barrier gone, he came to a single conclusion.

He locked gazes directly with Barry, his own devilish smirk on his muzzle.

“I’m going to fucking cum in your husband!” he announced.

His cock twisted and Scott immediately tensed, preparing himself for the onslaught. Hot seed exploded from Ethan’s cock, shooting right down the badger’s throat. Ethan’s grip tightened around Barry’s paws and he threw his head back, his antlers scraping against the ceiling as all the tension finally left his body. He bucked, thrust and spasmed while Scott’s body arched.

The badger’s own orgasm rocked his body. The black-and-white beast’s cock exploded, completely hands free. His own molten seed bathed the newly formed beastly buck , wreathing Ethan in a warmth that washed away any doubt of the decision he had made.

Just one second after, Barry’s own cum exploded into his mate, filling the badger up from both ends. This only sent the badger further into euphoric bliss as he came even harder and with enough force that Ethan was almost knocked back off his feet. Barry’s grip on the tight, bubble butt of the buck kept from slipping away and letting even a drop of the stag’s cum from going anywhere else except the badger’s belly.

Still, this was Ethan’s first of many orgasms as a beast and he wasn’t fully ready for the onslaught of relief, the sensation of freedom or the smoldering bliss that came with each powerful blast from his cock. His legs gave way and he fell down to his knees. Barry indulged him and crouched down while keeping his cock buried in his mate for another three blasts. Then, the lion pulled his cock out of the abused hole just in time to unleash his last blast across the furry, cum-covered bridged between them to christen Ethan with his seed.

Ethan, for his part, slumped backwards onto the floor, arms spread off to his sides and his new stag features gazing up at the ceiling in a daze. His senses were starting to fail him as exhaustion and afterglow threatened to steal away his consciousness.

That was when he found two pairs of powerful arms wrap around his cum-covered body and a pair of carnivorous muzzles nibbling at his neck. His cock was instantly hard again and he was hit with a new craving.

Now he wanted to be the man in between the beasts.

“You never told me,” rumbled Barry.

“Told you what…?” Ethan moaned.

“How it makes you feel.” His mentor rose up and pressed his lips against his own. Somehow, he immediately knew how to use his muzzle in the best way to make sure he could lock lips with the sexy lion and get the best of their thrashing tongues. Barry broke the kiss long enough to say. “Well, Mr. Wagner? How does it make you feel being a real beast?”

Energy shot through Ethan’s body and he immediately pushed Barry onto his back and straddled the lion’s chest with his powerful legs. The feline’s cock was hovering just over his ass.

“Like I can take you both and still have room for a third round.”

?

“‘Ey Duke. Breakfast is ready, son!”

The call was followed by some insistent knocking. While we hadn’t consumed any alcohol the previous night, I still felt the banging of a hangover headache ricocheting within my skull. A groaned left my lips and I forced my eyes open. The blazing sun from the blinds made me grimace. That is why I fucking hate blinds. They never truly block out the sun. And they can get stuck or tangled. Blackout curtains all the way.

I blinked a few times, tears seeping from my tear ducts and soaking into my fur.

That helped clear my vision and my head.

At that moment, my senses activated like someone switched on a light. There was the familiar blue blob sitting at the base of my vision. My tears had made me acutely aware of the fur covering my face. The mattress sagged beneath my one-ton weight as my arms and legs were hanging off the bed because it couldn’t take my eight-foot frame.

“What the hell…?” I exclaimed. My paws immediately went to my muzzle as I realized my shout would’ve been heard by Diesel who was standing right outside the door.

The doorknob began twisting. “Easy son, it’s just me. I know you’re in unfamiliar surroundings -”

“Don’t come in!” I shouted immediately, holding my paw out in the direction of the door.

Thankfully, Diesel had enough self-control not to fling the door open and just stopped after opening the white frame an inch. I had to think of an excuse very quickly.

“Tell him you’re naked,” Anodyne said hurriedly.

“I’m naked!”

I glanced at the tattoo for a second who waved his tail at me like he was gesturing for me to elaborate further.

“I… I sleep in the nude!” I rolled off the bed, landing nimbly on my hands and feed and sort of away from the vision of the door. “Give me a second to get dressed!”

“Ah. S’okay, son. Just come out when yer ready ta eat. But dun take too long. It’ll get cold.”

The door shut and I breathed a sigh of relief. What a way to wake up. My heart was racing. Holding my paws up to my face, I made sure I wasn’t dreaming and ran my fingers over my muzzle, my huge chest, my horns and the rest of my hard, muscled body.

How I missed this form.

But how in the hell did I get transformed?

“Dyne,” I whispered, cautious that Diesel might still be listening. “What happened? Why am I a monster again?”

“Your guess is as good as mine, Duke. You were exposed to multiple men for an extended duration last night. You didn’t transform at any point. What was the last thing you did last night.”

I blushed beneath my fur. “I… masturbated.”

“Of course. But that could not have been it. You didn’t do that when you transformed in front of Barry or Ranger. Could it be that it has something less to do with you but rather the scenario you find yourself in?”

“What do you mean?”

Anodyne theorized that my curse was always active and was just actively searching for one of my many fantasies to be played out. Though may instances of the curse could fall dormant after being satiated, it was constantly growing in power. Like a predator waiting in the shadows, the moment it found a way to play out one of my fantasies, it turned me into a beast ready to immediately start the porn music, dim lightning and close-ups of cocks and asses.

I was only partially listening as I was desperate to find some way of getting out of this situation. My immediately thought was jumping out the window. We were just in a single-storey building but it was already the middle of the morning in a quiet suburban town where everyone knew everyone else. A big, blue behemoth jumping out of the sheriff’s house could and would attract unwanted attention.

If I hid my true self and escaped, I could inadvertently drag someone into my fantasy. Some random bystander. There could be a crazy standoff where the few people in Diesel’s police department would corner me in an alley and the guy that cuffed me would start fucking my ass, transforming in the process before spreading it to the rest of the uniformed officers. Then would begin a pandemic of insane proportions that I would never be able to control or contain. My fantasy of having a whole town of sex slaves was just one jump out the window from happening.

This was the part in the story where the protagonist, having been fully transformed, would go to his understanding father with his new form or try to hide under his sheets in the hopes of waking up from the nightmare. Then the father would reveal he was a beast as well and suddenly, they’d go through a montage of training to control the beast within, only cementing their bond before some good old fashion father-son-fucking.

My mind can turn anything into a porn scenario.

“Alright,” I sighed softly. “I’m going to put your theory to the test.”

“Theory? What theory?”

I moved towards the door, gripping the doorknob in my thumb and forefinger. My paws were just too big to grip the dainty, little, brass knob. “That Diesel is trustworthy.”

“Alright…” mused the construct warily. “Good luck.”

I opened the door and ducked beneath the door frame, slowly and carefully heading towards the kitchen. The carpet felt nice between my toes and my pawpads. I had forgotten what it felt like after spending most of my time as a beast on hard floorboards, grass, mud or concrete.

“Hey Diesel,” I called out.

The sheriff was in the dining room, head buried in in a newspaper. There was a fresh platter of eggs, bacon and French Toast waiting for me. He didn’t look up as he sipped his coffee.

“Have a seat, son. I was thinking we’d drive to the next town over and show you around. It’ll take the whole day. Something to do while we wait for your license. Maybe get something for your cold too since…”

His voice trailed off as he lifted his gaze and saw me… all of me.

To his credit, he didn’t immediately reach for his gun or scream in shock.

“So… Hi again…” I began, waving at his bashfully. “There’s something about me you need to know.”

The small town sheriff appraised me for a good moment. Diesel took his time to drink the rest of his coffee, set down the mug and then fold his newspaper neatly to the side. He folded his arms in front of him, away from his gun.

“I’m listening,” was all he said.

So I explained. If I were ever to come out to my biological father, it probably would’ve gone the same way. Barry had warned me against oversharing but once the words started, I couldn’t stop the flood. I told Diesel almost everything. Again, I kept Anodyne out of it. Some of the more… intimate details of my sexual activities were also quickly glazed over.

When I finished, my heart was racing. It was like sitting in judgment at a trial for my execution. My stomach sat empty. What calories had had were consumed by adrenaline and the food sitting just a few feet away from me was calling me with its savory siren song. But I was frozen in place. If the food was the sirens to the Argonauts, Diesel was the Medusa to my countless victims who were petrified by looking into her gaze.

“Ranger, Doctor Price and that man in isolation, Scott, they were all affected by your curse?” concluded Diesel.

“Yeah. They were all turned. Barry and Scott seemed to be transformed permanently but Ranger could shift at will. Sort of. He kind of starts hulking out when he’s angry.”

Oh-my-god was that so fucking hot.

“And just by being here, you run the risk of transforming everyone in town. Me included.”

Those words sent my heart plummeting and I dropped my gaze. “Yeah…”

“And the only way you can think of possibly undoing the curse is to get back to your home. You had have no idea what activates it but any sort of exposure to anyone you do not trust could kick off a media frenzy that could have dire consequences fer ya.”

“You know what all the stories are like,” I pleaded. “It’s why superheroes hide their true identities! It’s why mutants and freaks live in sewers or abandoned homes! Anything and anyone outside the ‘ideal human’ is treated like an outsider and hunted down! Hell, it wasn’t until recently that gay men like me were considered freaks and were actively sought out to be chemically castrated or outright killed!”

“That’s still the case in some states,” sighed Diesel. “Why don’t you sit down, son? I know this is a lot for you.”

His reaction surprised me. After all that, after the very real threat to his safety, he was concerned about me?

Goddamnit… Where was this saint for most of my life?

“I should be saying the same to you,” I said. “Dude, you just had an eight-foot tall, one-tonne beast walk out of your guest bedroom and told him you might end up being turned into one or having sex with him because of magic that’s out of his control. How are you not panicking right now?”

He let out a short laugh. “Ta be perfectly honest with ya, I was bracin’ m’self fer somethin’ crazy. Ain’t no way ya jus’ woke up in the middle o’ the forest without any clue. It can’t be that simple.” He waved towards the meal in front of me. “Fer future reference, leavin’ gaps like that jus’ makes people more suspicious. I jus’ figured ya’d tell me yer story given ‘nuff time. Still never thought it’d be this but I was kinda prepared.”

How anyone could be prepared for this was beyond me.

I crouched down in front of the table. There was no way the flimsy wooden chairs could take my weight. His eggs were gorgeous. Even lukewarm, they were magnificently fluffy and well-seasoned. The French toast had gotten a little soggy since I had left it out for too long and the bacon was a little too crispy for me but I wasn’t about to complain about his hospitality especially given how accepting he was of my situation.

“So…” I began. “What now?”

“Now…” inhaled the sheriff. “Now we gotta keep ya quarantined an’ hidden.” He scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Yer license obviously ain’t gonna cut it. An’ while I’d be willin’ ta help ya, I can’t rightly say I’m willin’ ta sacrifice m’self so ya’d be human again temporarily.”

“That’s fair…” I mumbled through a mouthful of eggs.

“I ain’t gonna sacrifice any o’ the townfolk either though I know a few that’d be eager ta feel ya up.” He smiled at me briefly before returning to his pensive thought. “Lesee…” Then he snapped his fingers. “Ah got it. There’s a friend o’ mine. A truck driver. We’ll see if he’s got a route goin’ down south. He’s in the next town o’ver though an’ I can’t fit ya in my car without attractin’ too much attention.” He nodded absently towards one of the windows. “Dun know if ya noticed, everyone is up everyone else’s business here in Grimmwood.”

“I figured based on your stories.”

The sheriff finished up his meal and picked up his plate. “Stay here. Stay low. Dun answer the door fer anyone. I’ll go see if I can get Brick ta take ya down south to yer family.”

My brow furrowed. “Just like that? You’re… not going to report me to the military? Call the media? Set me up as part of a circus of horrors where you use my gift to throw away your political opponents and then turn them into freaks for your own profit and pleasure?”

He gave me a puzzled stare mired with concern. “Why wud I do that?”

Because it was one of my fantasies.

“Nothing,” I replied. “Just crossed my mind that circuses are a dying art form.” With a shake of my head I said, “Thank you, sheriff. I really appreciate.”

Still with a plate in hand, he reached out without hesitation and grabbed my shoulder. “Hey. I told ya. Call me ‘Dee’.”

“Okay… Thanks, Dee.”

With a nod, Sheriff Cooke asked me to clean up the dishes while he went to work. He was out the door and looking for a way to get me to my family half an hour later while I was still scrubbing the plates. There was nothing much to do in the home otherwise and I certainly didn’t feel right masturbating to pass the time.

Hours passed agonizingly slowly and I swear I roamed the house, examining all the pictures and trophies that Diesel had posted everywhere multiple times over. Perhaps there was still some part of me looking for the part of the brave and compassionate sheriff that was broken. Proof that he wasn’t the hero that he portrayed himself as but an actual human being.

No such luck. Everything about him painted him as a hero and superhuman.

Around noon, there was a call on the landline. Yes, they still use landlines. I hesitantly picked it up.

It was Diesel.

“I was wondering if you were hungry. I’m still in the next town over working things out with Brick. I won’t be home until late but you must be hungry. I was going to order something to be brought over. Pizza okay?”

“Pizza would be great,” I answered.

“Great. Pineapple or no.”

“I actually like pineapple on pizza.”

“Ha!” Diesel let out his whistling ‘ooo’ again. “Son, you and I are a rare breed. One pineapple pizza coming up! Save me a slice!”

Fuck me if I didn’t miss him already if only because he made me feel safe and secure. No one better to have beside you than a town sheriff.

Fifteen minutes later, the pizza arrived. The delivery guy rang the doorbell and left the pizza on the floor as per Diesel’s instructions. I waited until he had left and no one was looking before quickly snatching it up and hiding in the kitchen. I devoured the meal, making sure to leave three slices for Diesel.

Then it was once again a waiting game.

Thankfully, Diesel had a working TV so I entertained myself with something that wasn’t just local radio. He didn’t have cable but some of the broader, national channels at least spewed some decent stuff. The Food Network sparked my interest and inspired me to thank Diesel in some way shape or form. I did a quick inventory of his supplies. Well stocked pantry and fridge meant I could cook him something fairly decent.

The problem, of course, came with all the utensils being much too small for me. Which was why I started cooking and preparing at about two in the afternoon. One other thing I quickly realized was that my blue fur was getting everywhere. I don’t care what all those TV shows, stories or animations said with furry protagonists or characters. Fur gets everywhere. I spent a lot of time picking out my own fur from the food I was preparing before I finally decided in wrapping my paws and individual fingers in plastic wrap to prevent any of it from getting on the food I was preparing.

Now I’m no cook but being a starving college student with overbearing parents and overachieving older brothers meant that I was expected to be able to cook as that was a desirable trait for husbands. So I had a pretty good knowledge of how to prepare a decent enough meal. I had my pineapple upside-down cake ready by four in the afternoon which left me enough time to start preparing dinner itself.

Diesel’s SUV rolled in at about six and he came in, looking exhausted with pit stains under the armpits of his sheriff’s uniform. Despite his cheeks burning red with exhaustion, he managed a smile as he approached me from the kitchen.

“You cooked?” he asked. “You didn’t have to. I could’ve prepared something really quickly.”

I gave him a smile and gestured at the spread I had prepared on the table in front of us. “You’ve already done so much for me. I wanted to repay the favor.”

Even though all the ingredients I had used came from his pantry.

“Since the only thing I know about you is you like pineapple, I prepared for us pineapple friend rice with Mongolian beef. There’s also a pineapple upside-down cake in the fridge.”

Diesel’s eyes sparkled. “Hot damn, son! You’re amazing! Let’s dig in!”

I brought the food including the cake out into the dining room, beaming proudly as Diesel helped himself to a huge helping of the meal and began digging in. It wasn’t my best work but seeing him roll his eyes in pure culinary delight filled me with pride.

“This is amazing!” he exclaimed. “You gotta give me the recipe.”

“Remember how I told you that my grandpa moved all the way from New York to Alaska and started his own business?” He gestured at the food in front of us with one hand as I shoveled some rice into my own muzzle. “He started a restaurant. Really successful too. He couldn’t just focus on Filipino cuisine though. So when he got enough traction, he took up lessons in traditional French cooking, worked with Chinese restaurants and even did a tour of Asia at one point to learn their spices. His restaurant was successful enough that it provided for the education of both his sons.”

“Are they still running the restaurant?”

I shook my head miserably. “No. When grandpa died, his assets were split between my dad and uncle. Neither of them wanted to keep the place running. Dad was already a doctor by that time and my uncle sold his share of the restaurant to start investments in San Fransisco which eventually led to his fortune. Still, grandpa taught both of them his techniques and they passed it on to their kids. Nowhere near as good as his, mind you, but I make do.”

Diesel beamed at me. “Don’t sell yourself short. This is amazing. Bet you could start your own generation of restaurants if you wanted.”

That was certainly a future I had considered once upon a time. Reviving the old restaurant and continuing my grandfather’s legacy. It would be a total fuck-you to my dad who likely wanted me to be an investment banker, doctor or something that would rake in the seven figure salary. But my eldest brother was already a doctor and my older brother was running his own tech startup that was well on its way to becoming a success.

To me, that kind of success was toxic.

“I’ve thought about it,” I admit.

“What’s stopping you?”

I gave him a wry smile. “Familial pressure. My own allergies to success measured by salary payout. Fear of disappointment and never being good enough. My aversion to being just another volley in the eternal war between the various factions of my family.” I shrugged absently. “Lots of reasons, really.”

He gave me a concerned look. “Are you sure you’re not just looking for excuses because you’re afraid of actually succeeding?”

“Or are you afraid of becoming your father and brothers?”

“Maybe,” I responded to both questions. “Either way, I’m not sure I’m going to solve that issue any time soon. Right now, I just want to go back to being a normal human being.”

Diesel laughed softly and patted his pronounced belly. “And I want to get a taste of that cake you made!”

Slices were served and, I admit, I felt a bit of pride when I devoured that cake. There was something so satisfying about eating something that you had made yourself and spent hours poring over. Of course, I was always dreading the eventual critical analysis of my work that would come shortly afterwards from my family. Yet, the moment that fear crept in, it subsided thanks to the knowledge that Diesel wasn’t that kind of person.

He just genuinely enjoyed everything.

When we were done there was still plenty of leftovers. I packed up everything while the sheriff went to take a shower. By the time he was done, everything was cleaned up and he invited me to the lounge. As expected, he took the big recliner while I took up position in the sectional, making the whole thing groan in protest against my weight.

“Brick is willin’ ta take ya as far as midway down Oregon,” Diesel said at length. “He’s got a route that’ll take him down there that starts four days from now. After that, you’ll hafta be on your own.”

I nodded in understanding. “I’m guessing I’ll be sitting in the back with the cargo?”

“Not ‘less ya somehow turn back into a human,” He gave me a pointed stare. The intensity of that glare was defeated by the playful smile he gave. “And remember, no goin’ after my townsfolk.”

“I swear,” I responded, raising a paw in a solemn oath. “Not unless they want me to.”

The sheriff silently agreed to that are sat back in his chair. “Sorry I can’t take ya all the way down there.”

The apology was thick with subtext. He didn’t want to risk his own life to become a beast. This town was his life. Everyone here was his kid. He had sacrificed so much for them already and though he was willing to go to great lengths for me as well, he was not going to put everything he had worked on for the past thirty years in jeopardy because of a complete stranger that was going to leave in four days.

Some Karen would would demanded the same treatment as the other townspeople because it was unfair that he was unwilling to extend the same hospitality to them as her. But I was not that Karen. Diesel was already doing so much for me that I felt utterly terrible for taking advantage of him as much as I already had.

“If there’s ever anything I can do for you…” I began.

He grinned at me brightly, the wrinkles around his eyes really showing like a crown of joy over two, silvery amulets. “Maybe consider movin’ ‘ere when get yerself cured. Bet ya cud make a decent livin’ here.”

Goddamnit. Why are you so nice, Diesel Cooke.

I immediately got up, stunning him with my sudden movements. “No. No way. I am not accepting that. You are not going to be Mr. Completely-Selfless that doesn’t expect anything in return. I am giving you something right now.”

Diesel let out a short laugh and shook his head. “Son, I don’t want anything from you. I sure as ain’t gonna to fuck you if that’s what you’re gettin’ at.”

Well damn. There goes every fantasy that I had planned. Then again, for the first time in the past week or so, I wasn’t eager to play out any of these scenarios or even get to know Diesel like that. I genuinely wanted to treat him, to thank him for everything he had done for me.

“Nothing like that,” I said definitively. I stepped up beside his seat and pulled the handle that immediately sent his footrest flicking upwards. I then knelt beside him and grabbed his bare feet. Even against my large paws, his feet were enormous. Big and hairy. Made me wonder what kind of dick rested beneath the track pants that he currently wore.

“Just sit back, relax and let me show you at least some of my thanks,” I said. I began kneading the soles of his feet before he could protest. A soft moan left his lips and he eased into his seat.

“Oh damn, son,” he groaned softly. “Where’d you learn how to do that?”

“My friend Joey. He’s into sports. Gunning to be a physiotherapist but at the same time is part of the college football team. He’s pretty smart despite acting like a total dumbass jock most of the time. Claims that most of the time he just memorizes the names of the muscles and bones but I’m pretty sure working out and massage go hand in hand with him.” I began kneading the base of his foot with my knuckles. “He taught me all of these techniques to really get the knots out.”

I reached for Diesel’s toes and gave them a light tug. His entire leg twitched as the toe popped. The sheriff let out his loud ‘ooo’ that was typical of him at this point.

“That felt good,” he complimented. “Yer just full of surprises, aintcha?”

Apparently so. I never thought I’d ever use any of these techniques or my modest culinary skills on anyone let alone someone that would appreciate me for them. Compliments were so weird to me. Living a life constantly being challenged could lead to great achievements and ambition but support and encouragement was a whole different kind of fuel.

Again, that temptation to stay in Grimmwood forever grew.

I began massaging his feet between the toes, making sure to get as much air between them and make sure each toe wiggled and got some exercise. “Theoretically speaking, if I were to move here, what do you think I’d do?”

“Hmm?” hummed Diesel, momentarily distracted. “Oh… Well, ya cud always join the police force. We got plenty of work. You could go up to the park and work there seein’ as ya already know Ranger.”

It would also be a convenient way of keeping me isolated from everyone else so I wouldn’t infect others.

“But I personally would like ya closer ta home.”

That sentence shot sharp daggers into my back. Keep me closer to home so I wouldn’t run away and start going around turning others to make them my personal army of sex slaves?

“Wanting to keep me on a tight leash?” I said, half-jokingly.

“Naw, son. Keep ya close so ya can cook me more of that delicious pineapple fried rice!”

He was absolutely serious. Diesel Cooke didn’t lie. One-hundred percent genuine.

I let out a short laugh and moved to his other foot. “Where would I even live? Regardless of the current economy, there is no way I’m going to be able to buy my own place here. Not to mention it doesn’t look like anyone is renting or there are any cheap apartment buildings nearby.”

“Well, why don’t you move in here?” he asked. “At least until you get on yer feet. It’s what I do fer everyone that needs it.”

There was that golden kindness again. If this was playing into any fantasy of mine, it certainly wasn’t anything I recognized. None of my wet dreams ever had me playing the kindly father-figure that offered an actual future to the surrogate son. If anything, the father was always burly, macho and domineering. Me, the meek, slightly-rebellious son that was out on his own would find love and affection in a real man. A real man who rewarded achievements and punished disobedience with a good ass fucking. You know. A real dad.

I took comfort in the fact that this definitely wasn’t any fantasy of mine.

As I began to knead his other foot, he mumbled another scenario. “You don’t have to work here in Grimmwood either. The other towns are bigger but they’re an hour or two away. If ya can’t get rid of yer curse, ya could always be a truck driver like Brick. Keep on the move. Suck th’ dicks of any man that ya fancy an’ drain ‘em of their humanity ta keep yers.”

I hesitated a little. “And… you’d be okay with that?”

“Well… Not really but if it means it’ll keep ya from gettin’ hurt…”

I let out a soft laugh grabbed his foot as a whole, rotating it by the ankle slowly to get more blood flow through it. “I guess I’ll have to do whatever I can to make sure I get rid of the curse then, huh?”

“Yeah. That’s a good boy.”

Hearing those last two words sent a tingle down my body. My dick twitched and my feline tail did a few loops in the air. I continued my work, slowly moving up his legs, rolling up the hem of his pants so I could get at his big, hairy calves. He grimaced a little as I found a knot in the back of his leg.

“What were you doing that got these so tight?” I asked.

“In th’ car fer four hours,” he grunted. “Two hours to drive over to Brick and two hours back. Then I helped Brick with a couple of shipments. They were local, though.”

I was shocked. “So you were cramped in a truck cabin for even longer and, what? Helped him offload his cargo?”

“Only way I cud get time ‘nuff with ‘im to convince him ta take ya down to San Fransisco.”

The cold blade of guilt jabbed at my body and I made extra sure to start kneading that knot out as much as I could. It was the least I could do for him.

“He… knows the whole story then?” I asked.

“Yeah. Brick used ta live ‘ere so he knows my reputation. I dun lie, Duke. So when I told ‘im yer story, he wus a little skeptical but he took me at my word. Still agreed though.”

“He must have a lot of trust in you if he agreed to carry what is effectively a magical time bomb across state lines.”

Diesel scoffed and leaned his head back into the couch, closing his eyes. “Better that state than our own, I suppose.” He moaned softly as the knot began to vanish. “Good boy.”

There were those two words again and again, my dick began to engorge. I fought hard to ignore it as I moved to his other calf. Like the first, there was a knot there too and I began working through it.

“Will you kick my ass if I end up turning Brick?” I asked.

The sheriff laughed softly. “Son, I chose Brick fer a reason. I told ya, I knew some guys that would like to get up close and personal to a body like yours.”

I stopped for a second and stared at him in shock. “So… this trucker is… is gay…?”

“Yep,” huffed Diesel. “I wus th’ first guy that he came out to. Encouraged him to do it. He became a trucker cuz he now gets ta go up and down th’ coast lookin’ fer different kinds of guys to fool ‘round with. Hell, he makes a point of goin’ down to Pride every year. Ya’ll like ‘im. I ain’t sayin’ that cuz he’s gay. He’s a really nice guy. An’ he loves guys bigger than ‘im.”

Now my dick was growing hard for an entirely different reason. A road trip with a gay trucker? Hell yeah! That was one of my hottest fantasies. Paying for mileage with blowjobs may be cliche but it was a scene that had played multiple times in my mind.

I finished with the knot on Diesel’s leg.

“Urrf… Good boy.”

My dick spewed a bit of precum from its fully erect tip. It splashed onto Diesel’s toes. Panic quickly set in and I immediately grabbed the foot and began massaging it even harder. Diesel let out a loud moan, arching his back a little before he could question what the warm fluid one.

“Oooh… that’s good…That’s a good boy.”

“Ah…!” I gasped. My dick was aching and I couldn’t understand why. Every time he called me a ‘good boy’, something primal just triggered in me and I… I…

Oh no…

My heart plummeted.

I was such an idiot. This wasn’t an incest fantasy. It wasn’t the forbidden love between step-father and step-son. Not any sort of daddy fetish. It wasn’t even a pup-play thing.

This was a mind control scenario.

Slow, steady control over a submissive subject through the repetition a trigger word. My body was no longer my own as evidenced by my throbbing cock. Whether Diesel knew or even understood what he was doing didn’t matter because every time he uttered those two words, I was pulled deeper and deeper under both into the fantasy and the depths of depravity.

This fantasy… the fantasy of using hypnotic powers to control someone much bigger than me and making them my submissive slave… Back when I was just starting to explore my kinks, this acted as a form escape from my bullies and served as a way to concoct ways to get back at those that tormented me. Teenager Duke Gray was small, wiry and skinny. Compared to the boys who were lauded for their sporting prowess, he was next to invisible and was often bullied for his size. So out came the fantasies of swapping bodies with his bullies, stealing their muscles or outright hypnotizing them to be his sex slaves.

“Good boy.”

“Urrrrgh…” I moaned. The sound I made filled me with shame and I needed to bury my muzzle in something before I gave away my throbbing cock. My body complied… just not in the way I wanted or expected it to.

It wrapped my lips around Diesel’s big toe. I suckled on it, worshiping it, wrapping my tongue between the toes and worshiping the big man who was my kind, loving master. Master took care of me. Provided for me. Gave me a roof over my head. This was the least I could do.

“Ooooh…” moaned Diesel, reaching forward and running his hand through my mane, rewarding me with scratches right behind the ear. “That’s a good boy.”

Precum jetted out of my cock and splattered against the heel of master’s other foot. I immediately moved to clean it up with my tongue. He should never have my juices on him. That’s shameful.

I lapped it up, locking gazes with him as he smiled down at me warmly.

Master was noticing me!

“Come here, good boy,” he cooed, rubbing his cock.

This was unexpected! Master was letting me come close to his dick! I had never seen it before and this… this was too much. I whimpered, asking him if this was really alright. He gently grabbed the back of my head, he was such a kind master. Without a word, he guided me towards his crotch, pulling his sweatpants down with his other hand.

I gazed upon his member. The glorious six-inch, fat member springing from a pure white bush of pubic hair like am uncut spear springing from a sea of pure white flames. It was glorious. His musk filled my nostrils, strange and yet so familiar. I wanted it in me.

“Good boy,” he said. “You know what to do.”

I did indeed. Without hesitation, I wrapped my lips around his member, using all my skills accumulated from years of sucking cock to pleasure my master. He moaned, he bucked and he showed me just how much he loved me by grabbing the back of my head and thrusting into my muzzle.

“Good boy. That’s a good boy!” he grunted.

He was praising me! Each word was making my cock throb. I was in bliss. He tasted so amazing. His precum poured down my throat and I could feel him growing even harder. My curse was changing him, perfecting him.

Yes, master! Use me! Let me thank you for all you’ve done for me!

“You’re such a good boy! A good boy!”

His words only made me work even harder. I wanted nothing more than to make him happy. Diesel’s large belly visibly heaved and as he poured more and more precum into me, it began to deflate. Taut muscles started pressing up against his flesh, becoming a rather pronounced bear belly. The sound of trees rustling mixed with bark breaking and rocks cracking emanated from his legs. His calves hugged my shoulders, the strength in them doubling as the ballooned in mass. His already big feet grew even bigger as they curled around the back of my head, pulling me closer and deeper into his now eight-inch cock. I could feel his member rubbing the back of my throat and I didn’t want it anywhere else.

“Good boy! Good boy! Good boy!”

I’m a good boy!

Diesel arched his back, his hands clawing at the armrests of the recliner. Those very same hands stretched across the leather, growing bigger and thicker with the bands of white hair across the back of them growing even thicker. It was almost like he was wearing white-furred bracers across his inflating forearms.

He groaned, pushing his chest upwards. The sagging pecs of his perked up, firming into two solid plates of muscle that no longer whispered of a past as a wrestler but screamed of a man who still participated in the sport. His shoulders flared out to accompany thickening biceps.

Diesel’s eyes were shut as he threw his head back, arching his back permanently as a silent gasp escaped his lips. Thick, black hairs sprang around his face, forming the shadow of a beard across his face that connected perfectly with his mustache.

“Oh god… Son… I’m gonna cum!” He grit his teeth tightly. “Be a good boy! Drink every drop. You hear me? Every. Drop.”

I’m going to be a good boy and drink every drop.

“Here I cum!”

His hot seed erupted from his ten-inch dick, pumping down my throat and filling me with a satisfaction I never knew I needed or craved. My stomach churned with happiness, butterflies as they were. My eyelids fluttered as the beast of the man in front of me convulsed and a blissful smile crossed his features. He shot a whole heaping seven loads down my throat before he collapsed back into the couch and shot one last one just for good measure. I drained his balls with one last good suck before cleaning his deflating member with my tongue.

“That’s a good boy…” he sighed, rubbing the back of my neck affectionately. “Such a good boy.”

I got up dutifully, his loyal hound ready to attend to his every need. His eyes fell on my erect member.

“Oh… you haven’t cum yet,” he observed. A smile crossed his features. “Go ahead, son. Cum. Cum for me.”

That was all it took.

All the cum that had been building in my balls for being a good boy came rushing out like a rocket. It sprang from the tip of my canine dick and rained down on him like a shower. He smiled, spreading his arms and wholly welcoming the bath of my seed.

I’m so happy my master likes me seed on him.

I’ll do anything to pleasure him.

“Good boy,” he rumbled, his eyelids growing heavy.

Leaving him out here in the lounge covered in my cum was not going to do. Master needed to be in his bed. As he began snoring, I scooped him up in my arms and carried him to his bed. Though he was still covered in my seed, I lay him underneath his sheets, tucked him in and retreated quickly to clean up the mess that I had made in the lounge room.

“Uh… Duke…?” Anodyne asked. “What just happened? What fantasy played out?”

“The best fantasy,” I replied, my tail once again doing loops in enjoyment. “I was a good boy.”

“What…”

“I must be a good boy for my master. He is so good to me.”

Grinning stupidly, I fell to my knees and began lapping up all the cum I had sprayed onto his armrest. It would take most of the night but at the very least, when master woke up, it would be clean. I could still smell his scent and sweat on the chair. I was hard again within moments but I couldn’t cum. Not until master gave me permission.

“Duke, I don’t know what’s going on here but you’ve got to snap out of it! This isn’t you!”

“Of course it’s me,” I said to Anodyne. “I’m a good boy.”

The construct was silent for a long moment.

“Oh no…”