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[center]His Wolf Part 3 - by A. A. Samuel[/center]

When the wolf next took control, Sam again had no warning, and no opportunity to stop her. One second he was beating Jake at Geometry Wars 3, and the next he watched helplessly while that fucking wolf bitch stripped off all his clothes and changed forms, [i]again.[/i]

As Sam's body swelled in height, fur sprouting everywhere, and . . . the [i]other[/i] changes sliding into place, Jake sighed and set down his controller, flicking off the TV with the remote. He didn't even turn to look at Sam.

"You're chipping in on my food bill, right?" Sam's host asked tiredly. "And I mean [i]you[/i], Sammie-toes, not my man Sam in there. [i]He's[/i] not the one who wants to flip-flop forms all day. That shit takes [i]calories[/i]."

The wolfwoman, whom Sam categorically refused to think of as "Sammie-toes", only laughed.

"I can help you hunt fresh meat," she growled seductively.

Why was that sexy? How did she even [i]do[/i] that? Did Jake find it sexy? Sam fretted and mentally strained against her control. He wished he could stop her if she tried anything, but the truth was, he still didn't even know where to start. Could Sam trust Jake alone with her? Could Jake resist the wolf's advances if she demanded more sex? Or would she just overpower him again?

"Right now," she went on, moving toward Jake more like a panther than a wolf, "I'm thinking about a different kind of meat."

When was she ever not? Sam cursed silently inside his own head. There was nothing he could do. The situation was once again out of his hands.

Jake still wouldn't look at her. He seemed to steel himself. "I get what you're asking for, Sweetfangs, and you don't know how much I'd like to say yes, but no can do." He shook his head and crossed his arms. "You and your human have shit to work out before I can go there again."

She snorted. "Posturing," she declared. With one great, clawed hand, she gripped Jake by the throat and lifted him off the couch, into the air.

He grabbed at her corded, fluffy-furred wrist and kicked out toward her body, but to little effect. She held him at an awkward angle for Jake's attempted counterattacks, and her strength was such that Sam barely felt any strain on his arm from her holding an entire human aloft like a snared rabbit.

"We've already established that I can have my way with you," she growled. "Stop pretending otherwise. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes!" Jake wheezed, scrabbling at her huge, clawed hand.

"Good!" she said. That easily, her tone was cheerful. Sam felt the wolfwoman's mostly-canine lips curl up in a smile, her tail give a wag behind her. She set Jake down and let him go. "Take off your clothes," she ordered happily.

While Sam gaped in bewildered outrage, Jake gave a stoic nod. The man who'd promised to "do his best" in resisting [i]exactly this scenario[/i] threw off the t-shirt he'd donned to replace the one she'd shredded earlier. His brown upper body was distractingly sculpted, as always. As always, Sam tried not to notice, concentrating instead this time on what a lame-ass "best" this was turning out to be. Was Jake even resisting at all?

"You've made your point," Jake said.

Sam screamed helpless obscenities inside his own head. Her own head? Whatever.

"Just let me grab something, and I'll go downstairs with you." Jake met her eyes, and his expression was determined, stony. "If you won't give me a choice, I might as well do it right."

[i]Jake, you backstabbing bastard,[/i] Sam thought.

The wolfwoman chuckled. "Sounds good to me," she said.

Jake jogged off down the hall toward his bedroom. The bitch in control of Sam's body strolled languidly toward the basement door. Sam's struggles to stop her had no effect whatsoever.

He considered confronting her in the mental forest the two of them seemed to share, but what would be the point? She'd just knock him down again, say something rude, and then still do whatever she wanted.

And when Sam looked at it that way, he supposed, he did feel slightly less angry with Jake. Still, though, Jake had a werewolf form with whom he had, supposedly, a good relationship. Sam understood that the wolf was more primal, with less self-control, but . . . Jake could at least [i]try[/i] to resist her that way, couldn't he?

Still half-naked, Jake returned from the other room with something stuffed in the pocket of his loose, comfy boxer shorts. Sam couldn't get a look at it, while Jake fussed with opening the hidden basement door, but if it turned out to be a sex toy, Sam vowed to strangle Jake himself.

Rug and locks out of the way, Sam's so-called friend held open the big trapdoor. He motioned for the wolfwoman to head downstairs.

She laughed. "You first, prettyboy. I'm not stupid." She leaned forward and licked Jake's ear, then whispered, "you wanted to lock me down there without you, but it's not going to happen."

Wait, [i]that[/i] was Jake's plan? He [i]hadn't[/i] given up yet? Sam felt guilty, and then newly devastated that she'd seen through him.

"No, Hotness," Jake assured her, shaking his head, "I know you're too smart for that. I assumed you'd just stick close to me and force me down the stairs with you." His tone was soothing. "I'm just a step behind because it's easier to shut the door that way. Relax."

Oh. So much for hoping Jake had morals. Sam watched helplessly as the wolfwoman who controlled him took her first two steps onto the basement stairs.

Jake reached into his pocket. "That's why I brought this," he said.

Sam had half a heartbeat to register a crackling taser in Jake's hand, and then . . .

[i]I'm getting closer,[/i] Alpha whispered in Sam's ear. Sam felt the bastard's hot breath on his neck.

He spun around, but the forest was empty. Wind rustled the trees, and the birds Sam could never see sang happily all around him. It was sunny.

[i]I'll find you soon,[/i] Alpha promised. A caressing hand ran down Sam's nude skin.

A cloud covered the sun.

Sam woke up in the basement. He found himself already standing and pacing, and growling softly. His head spun.

No, no. [i]She[/i] was the one pacing and growling. At least Sam woke up inside his body this time, instead of needing to hunt around the mind-forest for a door back to reality.

Of course "his" body was arguable. The form Sam inhabited, as it stomped back and forth across Jake's werewolf-proof, cushion-strewn, basement floor was that of a curvaceous, muscular female, of werewolfish height and covered in fluffy-cream fur. If Sam had a mirror, he knew he'd see a mostly-canine face on his head, and a long fluffy tail jabbed out angrily behind him.

Jake had tricked her.

He'd lured her to the top of the basement stairs and tasered her down.

Wait, that sounded crazy dangerous. Jake could have killed him! [i]This[/i] was the best his friend could think of to keep Sam from getting raped again?

Annoyed, Sam counted his blessings. At least [i]she[/i] was safely contained for now. And he—they?—did seem to be unharmed. All was well that ended well, he supposed. He'd just have to mention it to Jake before he tried something like that again.

So. What to do while stuck down here. Sam remembered that Jake had a few older game consoles in one of the other basement rooms, but . . .

"I'm so [i]horny!!"[/i] the wolfwoman all but howled.

Yeah, that was pretty much the problem. Even in human form, even while gaming upstairs with Jake, Sam had still felt it. The wolf was in heat, and that meant all of him was horny, all the time. He was trying to get used to it, had tried so hard to ignore it, but . . .

Sam felt the ghost of Alpha's hand on his nude flesh again. Desire and revulsion stabbed through him at once.

It was hard to think, and harder in this half-wolf form. Sam could feel his cunt dripping with swollen need.

[i]We could change back[/i], he tried to think [i]at[/i] her, like a shout across the mind-forest. If she heard him, she ignored it. Well, Sam knew it would only do so much good anyway.

"Jake!!" she yelled. "Jake!!" She sounded desperate.

[i]You don't have to fuck Jake, just because you're turned on![/i] Sam snapped at her.

And they were in the forest. The fluffy, pale werewolf rounded on him, snarling. "There's no one else to fuck! I'm fucking [i]horny!"[/i]

Sam found himself backing away from her bared fangs, his arms placatingly raised. "I get that, but settle down, ok? It's not like you can't get the job done yourself, right?"

"What?" She stopped short, staring at him. She seemed almost alarmed.

"Masturbation," Sam began, "is a perfectly natural, healthy . . ."

"I don't know what you're talking about!" she snapped. "Stupid, human notions. When I'm horny, I fuck. It's simple. Now go tell Jake to come down here and satisfy me!"

She crossed her fluffy arms under her fluffy breasts. Her pink nipples just barely peeked out from under her fur.

Sam hated her. She'd been nothing but horrible to him. Nevertheless, in [i]any[/i] other circumstance, he was pretty sure he'd have offered to help out himself. What decent, compassionate man could do otherwise, right?

He refused to let his eyes stray down to the wet, dripping tuft of fur at her mons, the heat-swollen flesh of her vulva glistening bright and eager between her legs, almost hidden by her fur and her standing position, but swollen too large to be nearly as concealed as a human vulva would be.

There was no point in appreciating her beauty, or getting excited at the thought of her overt sexuality. It wasn't just that Sam hated her. He knew as instinctively as she did that sex performed in the mind-forest, fun though it might be, would never accomplish anything for the physical body, beyond, perhaps, [i]increasing[/i] feelings of lust. This hardly seemed useful.

"Look, if you don't want to masturbate, let me do it," Sam offered. "I have zero problem with that. You want to get off, let's just get off, ok?"

It would still be a little awkward, since she'd be watching and all, but they'd already dealt with worse awkwardness for bathroom needs and such. And hell, at least it was consensual, and not with another guy. He'd let a woman watch him once before. It was fun. Of course, he'd [i]liked[/i] that woman, but . . . the point was, it wasn't that weird.

"Fine," she muttered. "Deal with it."

And Sam was back in the real world, and in control. The only problem was, he was still a female werewolf. He stared down at himself.

Furred breasts. Clawed hands. He blinked.

He'd meant for her to let him be male again. He knew exactly what to do to get himself off with a [i]penis.[/i]

This . . .

Well . . .

Now that he considered it . . .

Sam grinned and draped himself on the pile of cushions in the corner.

This was the best part yet, of this entire werewolf nightmare! He cupped his own breast, pinched his own nipple.

His clit twitched in response, a shock of pleasure shooting through him. Amazing! Sam did it again. And again. His whole cunt twitched and flexed, begging to be filled. Every move it made felt like heaven. His hips pumped instinctively, and his thighs pressed close to squeeze his clit and cunt between them.

Nipples were awesome!

Sam tried the other one, with similar results. Every little squeeze sent pleasure jolting through him. So this was what his girlfriends had experienced, those who'd had sensitive nipples. So hot! Sam couldn't wait to do this to another girl again. Now that he knew what it felt like, fuck, it would be hotter than ever, every time!

Sam soon had to admit, however, that toying with his nipples would only ever get him so far. This body couldn't climax that way. He succeeded only in ramping the lust up higher.

He felt more hesitant, however, to touch his clit directly. He didn't like that kind of visceral proof that his penis was missing, but . . .

. . . in context of the fun he'd been having with his breasts . . .

. . . and when he thought about how it might make him a better lover in the future . . .

All in the name of science, of course! With another grin, unequivocally enjoying himself for the first time in days, Sam reached for his dripping, swollen cunt.

Ah! So sensitive! Every touch!

Sam couldn't think. It felt too good. He barely had the mental space to notice that the wolfwoman's cunt wasn't shaped quite like a human woman's, even aside from the unusual heat-swelling. The lips flared differently, and . . . without a mirror, Sam wasn't sure he could pinpoint the other subtleties.

He did not, however, worry about the utility of learning to pleasure a not-quite-human cunt.

No, once Sam started touching himself there, he ceased caring about [i]anything[/i] else. He wasn't sure he [i]ever[/i] intended to stop.

Every little movement was electric ecstasy. Oh, he had to be careful of his claws, of course, but with sensitivity that high, it didn't take him long to get the hang of gently rubbing, gliding the pads of his fingers through the slick, ready wetness and from there over this or that gloriously sensitive millimeter of flesh, until . . .

The clitoris.

It felt amazing.

Like all the sensitivity of an entire penis, concentrated into one little nub.

Heat-swollen as it was, Sam perceived no clitoral hood, nothing to insulate his clit from being touched. For all he knew, the wolf-bitch didn't even have such a thing. Exposed as Sam's clitoris was, therefore, he had to be careful with it. It hurt if he touched it with dry fingers, screamed with blinding agony if he brushed it accidentally with claws, but as long as he kept his touch moist and slick with his own juices . . .

God.

Sam wished he had someone else's cunt to lick right now. He'd never look at oral sex the same way again. Oh sure, Jake had gone down on Sam's wolf-bitch last night, and yes, it was amazing in its way, but Sam hadn't wanted that pleasure, hadn't been trying actively to learn from every motion like he was today.

This was consensual. It made all the difference. And damn . . .

Now that he knew how it felt, Sam found he wanted to suck every clit ever until all the women screamed and writhed in bliss, and . . .

Holy fucking God!

Orgasm screamed through Sam, blossoming out from his clit like an explosion. He whimpered and writhed in the cushions, almost weeping with the beauty of it, and yet . . .

He wasn't done.

Not one single part of Sam, for one single instant, told him he was done.

His hand was getting tired.

Well, ok. Sam was tough, and this was fun. He'd just push through and keep going.

And shit, but it felt so damn good. Sam teased and rubbed and stroked himself with greater and greater urgency, panting and bucking, pinching one nipple with his other hand, moaning against his will as he writhed his way to another climax.

Pleasure sparkled painfully over every nerve in his body—more pleasure than his mind could process.

But he still wasn't done.

God dammit! How did he keep getting hornier? How was it even possible for [i]any[/i] pleasure to keep spiking higher and higher, without ever coming back down?

[i]You know what you need.[/i]

Sam heard the words in his mind, and he wasn't sure whether he thought them himself, or whether [i]she[/i] said them. Worse yet . . .

An image of Alpha's throbbing werewolf cock sprang into Sam's mind. Sam's cunt clenched convulsively with hunger.

"Not his," Sam growled to himself, but the basic point was unfortunately taken.

Something about a werewolf bitch in heat meant that clitoral orgasm wasn't going to cut it. Sam needed penetration, or he'd just keep amping the lust higher.

Penetration. Ok. Sam slid his fingers lower down, between his cunny-lips. Inside, he felt himself clenching and unclenching with maddeningly pleasurable anticipation. He shifted a finger toward the necessary angle for entry . . .

. . . and yelped in pain.

Claws. Right.

Fucking sharp-ass claws. Dammit.

Sam took a deep breath and tried to think, to strategize. How did you penetrate a cunt with clawed fingers?

Well, how had Jake done it?

Sam thought back to all the sex the night before, struggling to keep from obsessing on the amazing, wonderful, perfect feel of Jake's cock slamming into him again and again, and realized . . .

With clawed fingers? Jake hadn't even tried. He'd penetrated Sam a bit with his long, canine tongue, and there'd been plenty of tongue and finger attention for Sam's clit, but other than that, it was intercourse, all the way.

Shit. Would a dildo work? Was there anything in this basement Sam could use as a dildo?

There wasn't a lot down here. The showerhead wasn't detachable. The so-called kitchen didn't have utensils. Jake's stash of chew toys weren't shaped right, and anyway, ew.

Sam found himself briefly considering a game-controller, but . . . at that point of desperation it was probably time to give in and call for Jake. Controllers were expensive. Sam wasn't that far gone yet.

Damn it, though!

Gently, delicately, with the very greatest of care, Sam tried again to slip a claw up inside his vagina. He'd seen porn once, wherein an actress fucked herself with incredibly long nails. It had looked so erotic, watching them slide up into her cunt as she grimaced and groaned in what he'd assumed at the time had been pleasure.

In retrospect, the image made him feel a little sick.

Sam shivered and carefully, carefully slid his finger in further. So far so good. It didn't hurt. It felt nice enough. What now? There was none of the satisfying fullness Sam remembered from the feel of Jake's cock. Maybe fingers weren't thick enough?

Sam tried slipping in a second finger. This time he had a couple of close calls with the claws, but managed to not injure himself at least—just a couple of tiny winces. Two fingers felt nicer than one, but still not quite what he needed. He tried squeezing in a third, but this time his claw was way too much in the way. He gave up before he cut himself.

Two would have to do for now. Hmmm. So, should he drag them in and out, or what? The mysterious g-spot Sam had read about was a nice thought and all, but with these claws, hooking his fingers toward any part of the vaginal wall was out of the question. Um . . .

"Quit wasting time," said the wolfwoman.

Sam hadn't even noticed her taking control.

"I'll do it myself," she snapped. "You have [i]no[/i] idea how to pleasure a woman."

Though annoyed by her insult, Sam felt otherwise basically fine with this plan. He'd had his fun, but if she knew something he didn't . . .

Holy fucking OW!!!

[i]What the hell did you do?![/i] Sam screamed at her through the forest.

The wolfwoman whimpered, licking her claws. Sam tasted a hint of blood mixed in with her juices.

[i]Why the hell did you do that?![/i] Sam yelled.

"I need it hard and fast," she whined. "All that slow, careful stuff was driving me crazy! I need to be pounded, deep and strong! I need a thick head and a hard knot! I just wanted . . ."

Sam felt his cunt pulse with pain and pleasure at once, still hungry despite whatever damage she may have done with her claws. Well, he knew from last night's experience that werewolves healed fast, at least.

"I'm tired of this!" Sam's wolf-bitch pouted. "Masturbation is stupid!"

She leapt up off the cushions and paced toward the stairs.

[i]Wait, wait, wait!![/i] Sam cried. [i]There's stuff we haven't tried yet! I'm sure . . .[/i]

"Jake!" she called up sweetly, through the door. "I'm really sorry about earlier! I masturbated for a while, and I understand now why I should stop forcing you to have sex with me. Please open the door! I'm so hungry! Jake!"

Shit. [i]Don't believe her, Jake![/i]

"What about your human?" Jake called down. His voice was muffled by the heavily-reinforced door, but werewolf ears had no particular trouble making out his words.

"I think we understand each other much better now," she lied baldly. "He's very good with his fingers. I think he's starting to like my body better!"

[i]Wait,[/i] Sam thought, [i]don't tell him that![/i] What did that stuff have to do with anything?

"Time alone down here was just what we needed to work things out!" she gushed. "Please, please can we have some food?"

To Sam's disgust, he heard the outer locks being unlocked, watched apprehensively as the big trapdoor swung open.

"There's meat in the fridge down there," Jake said through the opening door, "but maybe that's a bit much for Sam just yet, eh?"

Well, it wasn't Sam's [i]first[/i] choice, but eating raw meat sounded better than being [i]raped again[/i]. Fucking Jake. [i]Don't fucking believe her!![/i]

The door swung the rest of the way open. The wolfwoman lunged for Jake.

Neatly, almost too fast to observe, Jake ducked under her grab.

"Yeah, that's kinda what I thought," he said.

With a skater-style flip, he landed half-prone on the upper stairs, hands firmly anchored to the top step. Quick as a ninja, he hooked both his legs around one of hers, pulling her knee forward and pushing her thigh back until she overbalanced backward and crashed painfully down the staircase.

Jake vaulted himself back to the top step in a single, smooth motion. He shut the door again.

"Try again when you mean it!" he called gently.

The door thunked home. The locks clicked shut.

Despite the bruises, Sam silently cheered.

Well, he remained worried about the dangers of being repeatedly pushed down a flight of stairs, but other than that . . .

"He beat me!" breathed the wolfwoman. She sounded stunned. "He's a tiny little human, and he beat me that fast! I don't . . ."

Sam found himself reeling then too. She was right! Jake [i]had[/i] beaten her. She was bigger than him, stronger, with claws and fangs! He hadn't even used a taser this time. How . . . ?

He fought smart, that was how. Jake must have planned his moves in advance for her most-likely strike, taking full advantage of surprise and their surroundings.

The wolf-bitch wasn't stupid, per se, but she didn't [i]like[/i] thinking. She preferred to act on instinct. She was probably clever enough in a drawn out fight, wily like a real wolf would be, but Jake had used [i]strategy.[/i]

Far in the back of Sam's recently-traumatized mind, he thought he might feel a wheel or two begin to turn.

Before he could ponder with conscious thought, however, he found himself once more in the forest.

"The basement is stupid," said a fluffy, four-pawed, cream-colored wolf. "You deal with it. I'm taking a nap, so I can dream about proper fucking."

"Wait!" Sam snapped before she could shove him back into the real world, or whatever it was she usually did to him. "Let me be human this time!"

If nothing else, he could jack off properly that way.

She sniffed. "Jake wants us to stop changing so much. Besides, you're the one who won't let us get laid. I want you to suffer for it."

And Sam had the body again. He was still female, still a werewolf, but he was in control.

So. He was way too horny to concentrate on games, and any masturbation he could actually [i]achieve[/i] would only make matters worse. Huh.

Sam began to pace. After a while, he sighed, hung his head, and tromped back up the stairs.

"Hey Jake?" he called, with her throat. He wasn't sure he sounded any different than she did. "She's taking a nap now, and I really am kinda hungry. Um . . . I don't know that it's the best idea in the world to let me out, but . . . there's a lot of stuff I should be trying to get done, so . . ."

"Yeah, ok," Jake called. "She'll probably be a little more respectful of me now, and I've had a talk with my own wolf about her too. I think we're good."

The locks clicked again, and the door swung back open. Jake squinted at Sam.

"You're still in werewolf form," he remarked.

"She's pissed at me," Sam said, appreciating the wariness. "She won't let me change."

"You're seriously weird, Sam. Both of you," Jake said. "Alright. Come on out."

Sam climbed up, trying very, very hard not to notice Jake's now-familiar, masculine smell, the way his arms rippled as he shut the trap door again behind Sam, the perfect curve of his ass when he bent over in the loose-fit jeans he'd put on.

[i]I'm straight, dammit![/i] Sam thought.

Then he remembered he was in a female body. Did that mean he was gay? Or maybe it meant that he [i]wasn't[/i] gay for wanting Jake? And why would it be so horrible to be gay anyway? What was Sam so worried about?

[i]Shut up![/i] Sam told himself. Out loud, he said, "Thanks. Um. Can I have some clothes?"

"Yeah, you're still acting like you," Jake said. He offered a lopsided grin, though he didn't quite look at Sam directly. "I just hope she knows now that I can take her. She caught me by surprise once or twice, but I'm ready for her now, and I grew up around werewolves. I know what I'm doing."

He strolled toward a hall closet.

"That reminds me," Sam called after him. He grabbed a random blanket off the back of a chair and wrapped up in it. This time he remembered to cover his breasts, blushing to recall this morning's accidental exhibitionism. "So," he said, "It was cool before, how you trapped her down there, twice, but . . . that was [i]me[/i] you were tasing and tripping downstairs. You can kill someone like that! Tasers will stop a heart, you know! I mean, I'm fine but . . ."

Jake barked a laugh. "Of course you're fine," he said. "In that form, you can [i]heal[/i] a broken neck. You won't [i]like[/i] it, but pushing you down my basement stairs won't kill you, and a stopped heart is worth [i]maybe[/i] a few minutes unconscious. You're a werewolf, Sam."

He returned from the closet with a couple of articles of clothing.

Sam blinked at him. Werewolves were [i]that[/i] hard to kill?

"That's all I have for werewolf sizes," Jake said, the relative dangers of tasing already forgotten. He handed Sam a huge t-shirt and some cutoff sweats. "Good thing America's getting fat, right? Was such a pain for my parents to buy clothes for the wolves when I was a kid. We basically just had to be naked when we weren't human. Embarrassed the crap out of me as a teenager."

Sam scrambled into both items, struggling not to notice how the fabric of the t-shirt brushed his sensitive nipples, or how very, very wet he still felt between his legs.

"Here," Jake said. "Beef jerky. That should keep you busy for a while. We'll have a proper dinner in an hour or two, but I've got a lot of snacks around."

Oh, right. Food. Sam had almost forgotten. He remembered now too, though, Jake's comment about transformations and calories. "I will pitch in," he promised Jake. "I'm sorry about . . ."

Jake waved this off. "Yeah, we'll work it out. I'll stay at your place for a few days sometime. I was just annoyed earlier." He gave another of his tired smiles, like something about Sam made him sad. "It's good to keep the practical stuff in mind, though."

"Thanks," Sam said again, feeling at a loss. He bit into a piece of jerky. It was amazing. It was almost amazing enough to distract Sam from how bad he wanted a thick, hard cock stuffed in his cunt. "I um, should make some phone calls. Shit, how do I do that with my voice like this?"

"Send emails, and say you have laryngitis," Jake advised. "You can call them back later."

With that, between bites of jerky, Sam spent the next hour or so on Jake's computer, learning to type with claws. It was, in some ways, much harder than masturbating, albeit significantly less painful.

Sam emailed his parents and sister, telling them he'd be out of town at a boring work seminar thing, so they shouldn't come by or worry if he didn't answer his phone. Sam had been "between girlfriends" for over a year, so he didn't have one of those to contact. First time he'd ever been grateful to not have a girlfriend.

Work was the hardest email to write, but Sam did have sick time left, and some leave saved up. He shot a note to his manager. They'd worked together a few years now. He hoped she'd understand.

[i]. . . For physical reasons too personal (and embarrassing) to describe, I'll need to stay home a while longer. Trust me, you don't want to know. As a secondary ailment, my voice is currently shot. I'll call when I can. Gina is fully trained and can handle the network's day-to-day without me. I'll know more about how soon I can come back after I've seen the appropriate specialist. I'll work from home as I am able. Do you need me to contact HR? Sorry to have disappeared on everyone like this. I sincerely would rather be at work. Please don't water my desk cactus. It'll be fine.[/i]

All of that was basically true, but would Barb believe him? It sounded to Sam like a crock of shit. Would he get fired? Sam's company wasn't the friendliest in the universe, but it had good benefits and as Network Admin he'd been mostly left to himself. He didn't want to have to look for work again.

Sam was distracted from his fretting by Jake's voice from the other room.

"So he's saying he and his wolf are totally separate, and they do act like it. Is that even possible?" Jake's voice was wholly casual, but Sam found himself instantly listening with his whole body, as if sufficient tension in his arms could somehow heighten his hearing.

Whatever good this did or didn't accomplish, Sam failed to hear any part of the other end of the conversation.

". . . Uh-huh," Jake went on, with infuriating calm, ". . . Yeah . . . I don't think so . . . Well that's why I called you . . . uh-huh . . . really? Weird."

Weird? What was weird? Well, other than [i]everything[/i]. Sam forced down a deep breath, for patience.

"So can we come by? . . . Ok . . . Ok, cool," Jake concluded. "I'll tell him. Thanks!"

That must be the specialist Sam needed to see. Jake rejoined Sam in the very messy bedroom where he kept his computer.

Sam tried to pretend he hadn't been anxiously hanging on every syllable. "What'd they say?"

"Short answer is 'it's complicated'," Jake replied, "but she's heard of this before, thinks she knows where to start. We'll head out there tomorrow morning."

"Is that a good idea?" Sam asked. "I mean, shouldn't we neutralize this bastard who bit me before we go running around figuring out what's wrong with me?"

Jake shook his head. "We're hard for that asshole to find here. As for where we're going, it's way safer than here, so no worries on that front either."

"Ok," Sam said doubtfully, "but how long are we going to let him sit out there, looking for me? I mean, won't he find me eventually? I keep hearing him . . ."

Jake put up a hand. "Look, if he really is a mage, we absolutely [i]have[/i] to meet him on turf we can control. Hunting him down in his lair is the worst idea ever. Plus, traveling around for a couple of days could mess up magical tracking, buy us more time to prepare in the long run." Jake gave another of his "deliberate confidence" smiles. "Of course," he said, "I'm still hoping you're just crazy, and we'll never hear from him again."

Sam had a feeling there was more Jake hadn't said, so he waited, watching. After a moment, Jake nodded in good-humored resignation.

"If we pester him on [i]his[/i] turf, and other werewolves hear about it, they might decide [i]we're[/i] the problem for not respecting territory," he admitted. "This land has been mine a while now, so we've got better standing if we fight here. Werewolf custom favors those who keep to themselves. If you want justice for the way he treated you, we have to wait until you and Sweetfangs are more in sync. Then you can go through proper channels. They don't clear newbies for blood-hunts. You'll need to prove you can be subtle, keep our secrets."

Blood-hunts! Was that really what Sam wanted? It sounded so savage. Either way, though, he knew Jake was right about waiting. He hadn't talked to [i]the bitch[/i] about "Alpha" since Sam had first convinced her to let him come to Jake's in the first place, but he doubted she'd come around to Sam's way of thinking. She probably still wanted to follow the bastard around like a puppy and be his loyal fucktoy.

The thought made Sam feel sick—not just as a man, but as a feminist. What made her respect herself so little that she'd just submit to someone? Over his combat strength alone? What about equal partnership? What about strength of [i]character[/i]?

But she didn't respect Sam enough to listen to his ideas on the subject. Jake was right. They had to talk to this expert first. Sam looked forward to meeting her.

"On the subject of preparation, though," Jake said, "while I have you in that body, let's go back downstairs and spar for a bit before dinner. I want to show you how to use your claws in a fight."

This time, Sam believed Jake actually meant "spar" instead of "fuck".

Sparring was horrible.

Oh Sam wasn't that bad at it. He'd done a little martial arts, a little wrestling here and there after school or in sports. He had a basic grounding in the concepts of hand-to-hand combat. It wasn't hard to readjust to using his nails as weapons—came more naturally than Sam would have expected. Harder was dealing with his breasts, and he'd have given a great deal for a sports bra, to keep them out of his way, or from painfully bouncing or getting squished by moves and pins.

But that was nothing.

The horrible part was Jake.

He smelled so. Damn. Good.

Sam couldn't tell from minute to minute whether he sparred with Jake or Jake's wolf. Jake was usually the one to explain things, and his wolf was more likely to do something feral like biting or growling, but . . . the rules weren't hard and fast. Both liked combat, and both were good at it—better than Sam anyway. They seemed to tag in and out during the lesson as it pleased them.

Sam wanted them both.

He didn't want to. He didn't [i]mean[/i] to. He put everything he had into denying it, hiding from it, concentrating on [i]anything[/i] else, but . . .

And the wolf knew it too.

Well, both Jakes had to know it, by the scent of Sam's arousal if nothing else, but only the wolf leered invitingly every time he caught Sam in a pin. That was one way Sam could tell the difference. Human-Jake stayed professional, even when his hot, furred body was pressed close to Sam's and their breath panted in each other's ears, even when their muscles strained against one another's, and their claws clutched at each other's fur . . .

Fuck.

No less than five times, Sam caught himself on the verge of licking Jake's pointed, canine ear, kissing Jake's mostly-canine lips, or deliberately thrusting his hips to grind his pelvis against Jake's.

The distraction made Sam fight like a moron, more than half the time, though both Jakes were patient with him. Wolf-Jake seemed only amused. Sam spent the whole experience in a constant state of embarrassment, no matter what his teacher did.

After an hour at most, Jake seemed to take pity on him and declared it to be dinnertime.

Sam's stomach growled. Food, at least, could distract him for a little while—from the thought of Jake's cock thrusting into his cunt, satisfying this lust that wouldn't leave Sam alone.

Dinner was a spicy, meaty chili Jake had started hours before, while Sam was locked in the basement. It had been stewing on the stove since then—smelling amazing, though Sam had been too preoccupied with thoughts of sex to notice—while more potatoes baked in the oven. Between half a batch of chili to himself, six potatoes, bread and butter, and whole packages of cookies for dessert, Sam fell asleep on the couch after eating, while Jake cracked up watching a TV show that got werewolves all wrong.

And then Sam began to dream.

He was a wolf in the dream, a creamy, fluffy, four-pawed wolf like the one he sometimes saw in the forest. He was female still, and in heat, and he was looking for someone.

It was so hard to remember who he was looking for, or why. It was hard to think of anything at all. Sam needed to be fucked so badly that his world narrowed and narrowed, until he wondered if maybe he just looked for someone to fuck him.

And then he saw the wolfman, the big, black werewolf who'd called himself only "Alpha".

He was naked.

He held his hard cock out to Sam.

"Suck it," Alpha said, "if you want to be my whore."

Yes! Finally! This was what Sam had been looking for, wasn't it? Yes, he was sure it was.

He put his paws up into Alpha's lap and licked happily at Alpha's cock, wrapping his long, canine tongue around its head, sucking as best he could with canine lips and troublesome canine fangs.

Alpha didn't seem to mind. He petted Sam's head and murmured affectionately, "Good bitch. Good bitch," and Sam was so horny he didn't even care, as long as he got to be someone's whore.

Please, please, just fuck me forever!

The dream shifted.

Sam was in the forest, but it was night. The trees still rustled in the wind, but it was eerie now, threatening. Sam no longer had a cock to suck, and still no one was fucking him. He looked down at himself, and he was human and male, but his cock was hard as bone, dripping with need, and somehow he still wanted to be fucked, to be held down and taken hard, filled to bursting with someone's cock.

Sam couldn't remember why he didn't want to want that. Genders and orientations seemed meaningless, irrelevant. What mattered was that Sam was scared and alone in a forest gone dark and weird, and the only thing that could save him was a cock, deep inside him, claiming him.

Then Alpha was there.

"I've found you," he purred. "What a merry little chase you've led. I'll break you extra hard to make up for it shall I?"

Sam's stomach clenched with fear. He wanted Alpha's werewolf cock so bad, but something was wrong here. Sam was in danger.

"What do you mean, you've found me?" he asked.

"Well," Alpha admitted, "I've found my back door into your mind. Won't take much longer to track down your body, from here."

He grinned and held out his cock. Somehow, Sam was on his knees at Alpha's feet, the werewolf's huge, dripping phallus just at eye-level. Sam wanted it. He wanted to drink its cum. He wanted it fucking him.

A blink later and Sam was on all fours, still human, though he honestly couldn't tell if he was still male. Alpha gripped him from behind by the hair, arching Sam's spine painfully backward. Alpha's cock was buried deep inside Sam's body, and in the dream Sam couldn't tell if it thrust over and over into his ass or his cunt.

He didn't care. It felt amazing. It was everything he needed.

"Good little bitch," Alpha purred to him. "How lucky am I to stumble into a sex dream, eh? Won't this be fun when you belong to me for real? This can be your life, Bitch. You never have to do anything else again. Just catch my cum. Soon enough you'll beg me for this."

Alpha spurted his orgasm all over Sam's nude back. He rubbed it into Sam's skin like lotion.

Something clicked in the back of Sam's mind. Terror surged back to the forefront of his thoughts.

"Perfect," the wolfman said.

No. Not perfect. This was wrong! Why had Sam let these things happen? He was no-one's bitch. He'd [i]never[/i] beg to be treated this way!

And what was it Sam's enemy had done to him, rubbing cum into his back like that? Why had it felt so strange? What was going on here?

"Just what I needed," Alpha murmured.

Sam's whole spine turned to ice.

He woke up, shaking.

Sam still lay on Jake's couch, in Jake's werewolf sweats, in the wolfwoman's body.

He felt so horny he thought he might explode, but it was a strange lust, blended unnaturally with heart-pounding terror. Dream images assaulted him, and his shaking only increased.

Jake sat at the other end of the couch, still lounging around in wolfman form and baggy cutoff sweats himself. Sam hadn't noticed before that he'd never changed back after the combat lesson, not that it mattered.

And yet . . . perhaps it was a welcome distraction, from the terrible memories of Sam's dream.

Jake looked so fucking good as a werewolf—that perfect physique, those grey-green eyes . . .

Sam sat up. His nipples [i]ached[/i] they were so hard. His shorts were uncomfortably damp with lust. Sam's dream, or sex nightmare, or whatever it had been bounced around his head. The nightmare's story was unclear, already slipping from his waking mind, but the emotions remained, along with pictures, sensations. Sam hated that every thought of the dream turned him on more and more, with stomach-churning helplessness. It frightened him. He couldn't remember everything that Alpha had said, but he [i]did[/i] remember how bad he'd wanted Alpha's cock.

Alpha. Sam shuddered. No matter what, Sam didn't want to want him, ever.

That was when he realized, it was dangerous to let himself stay this horny. His thinking was too compromised. In fact, Sam wasn't entirely certain that something awful hadn't happened in his dream, and even now he felt too horny to think it through, to even [i]try[/i] to remember what clues Alpha might have dropped.

This situation had gone beyond worrying about whether or not Sam was gay.

"Jake?" he said.

Jake's show was ending. He flicked off the television and turned to Sam with a friendly smile. "You're awake," he said. "Where do you want to sleep tonight? If you're stuck in that form, I recommend . . ."

Sam stopped him with a tentative hand on his hand.

"Jake, I can't do this anymore," he admitted, ashamed to hear his wolfish voice crack with frustration as he spoke. "I'm sorry for the runaround, and the confusion, but this body, the heat . . . Look." Sam forced the words out. He had no choice. "If you still want me, I'm . . . ok, now. I have to be."

Jake's eyes widened, then narrowed. He snatched his hand back and leapt up off the couch like he'd seen a spider.

Standing a few feet further away from Sam, he swallowed hard. "That's . . . that's clever, that is," he said slowly, "but I'm not falling for it." He shook his head and ran a hand through his head-fur. "Neither of me is falling for it, ok? Sam's my friend. I never wanted to hurt him."

Sam laughed and choked on the laugh at once. He felt embarrassed and frustrated and touched all jumbled together. He held up both hands and didn't move from the couch.

"It's me, Jake, I swear," he said. "I haven't heard from her in hours. I just . . . I had a bad nightmare about that guy, and I can't think. I don't want to want you, but I don't want to want [i]him[/i] even more. I have to get this under control, and I don't know how else . . ." Sam stopped talking. He was afraid that if he uttered one more syllable he'd start to cry. He'd been more than sufficiently unmanned already. Bursting into tears was just a step too far.

Jake watched him sidelong, saying nothing. Sam saw him sniff the air a few times, with his black, werewolf nose.

"It's hard to smell your mood over the heat," Jake finally admitted. "You do kinda smell crazy, but . . . not like her, I guess, and not crazier than anyone else would be in your position. Still, Sam . . ." He shut his eyes. "You don't know how much it hurts, to think you've given a girl a genuine good time, and then have her tell you you screwed it up [i]that bad[/i] . . ." He shook his head. "And plus, this is a serious thing we're talking here. We've both had an emotional day. Will this still feel like fuck-buddies tomorrow? I can't . . ."

He turned and walked a few paces away. He seemed to struggle for control.

"I can't even process that shit, Jake," Sam confessed. "I had nightmares about desperately wanting the cocksucker who bit me to fuck my ass, okay? And I have this feeling now like he's found me, like he might get here any minute, and I just need to be able to think! And you've smelled so fucking good all day, and she's [i]not[/i] me, and I [i]don't[/i] think I'll still be queer when I'm not in this body and she's not in heat, but masturbation only makes it worse, and . . ."

"You need the knot," Jake said dully, nodding. He laced his clawed fingers behind his wolf-eared head and stood there, staring at the ceiling. Considering how tall he was, the plaster looked to be only inches from his face.

Sam sniffed the air, wishing he knew how to read Jake's mood by smell. All he got was that Jake smelled exactly like someone Sam wanted to fuck. Now.

"Say something she'd never say," Jake said. He hadn't moved from where he stood, a few yards down the hall.

"Um," Sam wracked his brain.

He tried to think of a dirty Shakespeare quote, since that sounded too sophisticated for her, but he couldn't remember any and realized he wasn't sure Jake would recognize one anyway. He tried to think of something dull, about work, but second-guessed himself that maybe this would be too obvious a ploy, and exactly what she would pull out of Sam's pre-werewolf memories to use on Jake, which would thus make it less convincing. That thought sent Sam into a spiral of tail-chasing, rejecting everything he thought of until his brain ran utterly out of steam.

"Can . . . can it be less rough tonight?" Sam all but begged. "The whole canine dominance thing creeps me out."

Jake cocked his head and turned to look at Sam. His expression was unreadable, and he stared until Sam began to fidget awkwardly, forcing his hands not to stray to his throbbing cunt.

"Yeah, that works," Jake said finally. "Don't make me regret this. Come on back downstairs."

Sex as a woman.

Sex as a willing woman, with the power to move his own limbs and lips, make what sounds he wished, ask for the things he actually liked.

It started slow, with Sam so shy about his lust-wet shorts that Jake had to coax him into the shower to get them off him.

In the giant werewolf-proof bathroom, hot water cascading over their fur, Jake held back, almost hesitant, and let Sam wash himself clean. Sam wished Jake would touch him, bend him over and fuck him then and there, but . . .

. . . it also helped, that Jake waited. Sam thought it was a struggle for him too, that some argument between Jake and his wolf took place behind Jake's eyes. Sam heard him panting once or twice, and softly whining once, when Sam bent over to retrieve the bar of soap that had slipped through his clawed fingers. Jake didn't touch though. He watched and waited until Sam felt clean.

They turned off the water. Jake brought them both towels and dried himself comically fluffy, clowning with his messed-up fur until Sam smiled. When Sam struggled to dry his own tail, Jake came over to help, and to demonstrate a trick or two from long experience.

As soon as he came close, Sam's shyness burst. He turned and caught Jake's lips with his.

It felt weird to kiss as werewolves, with lips that weren't human-shaped. It felt weird to deliberately kiss a man, though the longer Sam thought about it, the sillier it seemed to bother caring.

Jake kissed Sam back but still didn't press. He was a whole different man from the night before, serious and patient. It looked good on his werewolf face.

Sam's heart pounded with nervousness, but his cunt pulsed with need. Timidly, a little clumsily, he turned to pull Jake closer, let his hand slide down his friend's fur until he found Jake's cock.

Jake jumped a little when Sam gripped his shaft and began to stroke, but he relaxed into the rhythm quickly enough.

It felt weird to stroke a cock that wasn't Sam's own, yet oddly familiar too, almost comforting.

Yes. It was time. Sam wanted this.

He grabbed Jake's hand and pulled him out to the biggest pile of cushions. Jake followed without protest, watching Sam like he might have a dagger hidden somewhere—or a treat. Sam lay down and pulled Jake down with him, to kneel between fluffy-furred, spread legs.

Jake leaned close to kiss Sam's bent knee, moved toward Sam's cunt, which already glistened again, despite the shower and the towels. Sam stopped him, shaking his head. Jake froze.

"I've been waiting all day," Sam explained. "No more warm-up. Please." At this point it would be less warm-up and more cruel teasing. Sam was already so wet.

He reached for Jake's cock again, guided it toward his body.

Jake moved closer. His face remained hard to read, but his breath panted with rising lust. "If anything goes wrong this time, that's it," he warned Sam. "Fuck, I don't trust my senses. You're so damn hot, and I'm scared I'm lying to myself." His eyes seemed to beg. "I don't want to hurt my friend. If this is a trick, Sammie, we're done for good."

"It's me, Jake," Sam promised. He wished it wasn't true, but it was. "This is so fucking awkward, but I need your help. I need . . ." He sighed, admitted the truth. "I'm a guy. You're a guy. I want you. We'll sort out later whether it means anything. Please."

Jake nodded. He met Sam's eyes, and the contact felt physical, more electric than touch.

"Don't pull away this time," he whispered. He plunged his cock into Sam's cunt.

Fuck, it felt good. Jake's cock was everything, everything Sam had needed all day. It was way better than any goddamn dream-cock, and the feel of it filling him up, caressing him inside . . . It blanked his thoughts, stuffed all his nightmares soothingly under the rug.

Sam moaned and held Jake closer, gripping his friend between his thighs.

[i]I can't believe I'm doing this[/i], he thought. But it didn't matter. Nothing mattered. Jake was fucking him, in and out, slow and tender, toying with Sam's nipples, little jolts of electric pleasure to add to the bliss of every thrust.

"How the fuck are you hotter than before, Sam?" Jake whispered. "God damn. I just want to do this forever."

Sam shivered and arched, and thrust his hips up to meet his partner's. "Don't feed me lines, asshole," he growled, though he didn't mean it, and to prove as much he held Jake tighter and licked along his canine jaw.

"It's not a line," Jake promised. "I don't do lines. You're really that hot."

Sam didn't know what to say. Jake kept on thrusting into him, again and again. Jake's cock was the world. Sam's cunt wanted more, more, more. Sam ground his hips upward to take Jake deeper, ever deeper. He'd gone beyond words. There was nothing to say. There was nothing but Jake's cock.

"I'm serious, Sam," Jake gasped out, his lips to Sam's ear, his sculpted, furred chest pressed tight to Sam's sensitive breasts. "I can't take it if you change your mind again. If you're tricking me."

He thrust in again, deep and hard, then pulled slowly out, almost all the way. Sam squirmed with bliss, wallowing in every sensation. He still couldn't speak.

"I want to do this again," Jake growled. "Over and over, weeks of nothing but you and me, fucking." Another thrust, another slow withdrawal. "We'll hunt under the moon and fuck as wolves, and half-wolves, and as goddamn gay fucking humans." Thrust. "I don't care. I want more, Sam." Thrust. "Don't you dare be fucking tricking me."

Sam clung tighter, pumped his hips harder. He felt dizzy, and confused, but way too good to care. "I'm not tricking you," he managed to gasp. "Just keep going. Harder."

Jake thrust harder, as requested. His rhythm sped, and there was no more time for speech. Sam liked it better that way. He wanted no distractions from Jake's cock in his cunt.

He hated to admit it, but he wanted this again too—again, and again, and again . . .

Sam wanted to be human. He wanted to be a man. He wanted his normal life back.

But if he couldn't have those things, he wanted Jake's cock at least.

Jake's cock in his cunt, and Alpha's head on a platter.

"I can't hold back, Sam," Jake moaned. "Can you cum with me? Are you ready?"

"God, yes," Sam whispered.

Ecstasy exploded like a mushroom cloud. Sam's brain blew away in the blast. He arched and bucked against Jake's body, engulfing Jake's cock, pleasure to the point of pain blinding him like an atomic flare. Jake bent to bite Sam's nipple, so gently, so electrically. Sam felt Jake's cum spurt into him, Jake's knot expand to tie with him, his own cunt contract deliciously around the fresh bulge.

Panting, maybe even trembling a little, Jake collapsed against Sam. He held tight for a moment, silent aside from his breathing.

Then, "If I'm sweet now," he asked, almost fearfully, "if I do something romantic, will your personality shift? Will you tell me you hate me?"

"She's still asleep," Sam promised. "She's probably pissed that I gave in and seduced you without her. I . . ." Sam chuckled nervously to keep a canine whine at bay. "I still can't believe I wanted this, but I did." He shivered. "Thank you."

"Any time," Jake murmured. "Convince me it's really you, and your every erotic wish is my command."

Sam laughed again, harder this time, until his cunt tightened on Jake's knot and they both winced and grinned in excessive pleasure.

"That one was totally a line," Sam insisted, biting at Jake's ear. "It was a cheesy-ass line. You don't even know what my kinks [i]are![/i]"

"You have kinks?" Jake teased back. "Like maybe someday we'll try reverse cowgirl? Oooh! Or a silken blindfold?"

"I have lots of kinks!" Sam insisted, though now that he thought about it, he wasn't entirely sure that was true. He might be developing a kink for werewolves, and maybe for knotting after sex, but now was a time for teasing Jake. "I might ask you to dress in high heels, or walk on a leash with me in public, or eat hummus off my cock!"

"Done and done," Jake promised. "I look great in drag. Three girlfriends back . . ." He shook his head. "The things you learn. And I already said I'd try the gay thing if you asked. I don't see what difference a little food fetish makes."

Sam felt himself blush. "I . . . don't actually have those kinks," he backpedaled. "I don't even know . . . about the gay thing yet."

"But like this you still want me?" Jake checked.

They were still tied. His cock still felt amazing in Sam's finally-satisfied cunt. Sam started to feel horny again, though more gently this time, more optionally.

"I kinda want you to wear me out," Sam admitted, nodding shyly, "until I'm so sated I pass out. I kinda want you fucking me continuously until the heat stops."

"Sir, yes, sir," Jake murmured, licking Sam's jaw. "Whatever you say."

It was the third time they tied that night—and the first time Sam was sure the man who fucked him was wolf-Jake, not so controlled or careful, but just as good with his cock and tongue—when Sam thought to really wonder what the hell had happened to the wolf bitch.

Sam had half expected her to take over and ruin his fun—cheapen everything and scare Jake just for laughs in the middle of their first consensual time together. Sam was grateful she hadn't, but she'd been gone so many hours now . . .

And every time he thought about it, he heard the eerie wind in the shadowed trees from his nightmare, and he didn't know why.

He clung to Jake's strong form, tried not to feel less of a man for doing so.

"Is it ok that she's been silent this long?" Sam asked. "Is that normal?"

Jake nuzzled his fur, and Sam couldn't tell which Jake held him. "You haven't heard anything?" he asked. He tugged gently on their knotted genitals, just enough to feel good. "Since when?"

"Since you tripped her down the stairs," Sam admitted. How long ago was that now?

Jake blinked, propped himself up on one elbow. Sam thought this was human Jake now, but he still wasn't sure when the switch had happened.

"You should maybe check on her," Jake said. "I've probably gone that long more than once, but . . . I'm pretty integrated. We don't need to talk much. I just . . . am. Which me is which flows naturally, without thinking about it." He frowned. "I don't think that happens for newbies, and your case is extra weird." He sounded worried, but he still cupped one of Sam's creamy, fluffy breasts in one hand, idly toying with the pink nipple.

Sam took a deep breath and nodded. "Ok," he said. "If she takes over . . . it's still ok to fuck her." He swallowed nervously, but Jake needed to know this. "I'm . . . you don't need to play telepath with me anymore. Check in if she wants something extra weird, but otherwise I'm ok until further notice."

Jake froze. "You're sure?" he asked.

Sam steeled himself and nodded. "Maybe if I let her have her fun, she'll be nicer to me. Just [i]you[/i] though, Jake. Both Jakes, I mean. She only has my permission with you."

Jake's eyes widened. "You got it," he said softly. "I'll be here waiting when you get back."

Sam willed himself into the forest, and he was there.

It took a long time to find her. Sam wandered and called, and willed her to appear. Nothing worked. The forest remained dark, but not as creepy as in the dream. Sam hoped this was just because it was night outside in the real world, so his mind expected darkness.

But where had his irritating counterpart gone? How was it possible for her to disappear like this?

Just when Sam considered going back to ask Jake for advice, he finally found her, lying in wolfwoman form instead of wolf this time, but still drenched in cum. He blinked at her.

"Where have you been?" he asked.

Fear iced down Sam's throat to land painfully in his stomach. She'd been busy somewhere, right? They couldn't have been merged into a single self while he fucked Jake. Jake couldn't have been right about her and Sam . . . could he? Sam [i]was[/i] fucking Jake and liking it now, after all. Had he really been gay or transgendered all along? Did things like that happen? Did they happen to guys who'd never wanted anything but girls? Guys who'd always been comfortable with their own bodies?

[i]Please tell me you've been busy somewhere,[/i] Sam thought. [i]Please tell me we're still two separate people.[/i]

She stretched wincingly, smiling a tired and faraway smile. "Oh," she said. Her voice was hoarse and thick, as if she'd been crying, though her tone spoke of adulation.

Sam felt a chill. He looked closer at her cum-slicked fur. Not all of the wetness looked the same, he noticed. In fact, some seemed darker, more matted. It was hard to tell in the shadow of the night-dark trees, but he realized her pale fur might well be streaked with red.

Was she hurt? She moved like she was hurt, even hissing a bit as she sat up to address him. She kept on smiling though, her eyes dreamy and unfocused in a way that made Sam's blood run cold. She struck him as smaller somehow, oddly frightened behind her eerie smile. He wasn't sure whether to rush forward to her aid or run screaming in some other direction.

What had happened to her?

"I've been fucking Alpha," she finally replied, in a worshipful whisper.

Sam stared. Bile rose in his throat.

No.

"He found me here," she went on, "and he's been claiming me, over and over, like magic." Dreamy smile or no, behind the gushing devotion Sam was sure he heard horror as well. She never ceased to sound as if on the verge of tears.

[i]I take it back[/i], Sam thought, fighting nausea. [i]I'd rather be gay.[/i]

[center]-To Be Continued-[/center]