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Chapter 1 It was a box. Or possibly a crate - wooden sides with a bit of plastic on the side containing what I'd think was a packing slip. No visible marks otherwise. No 'fragile' (which my mind nearly always reads mentally as fra-jill-ay) or other stamped text. Just a decent sized box (crate?) sitting on the second step of the little concrete steps leading to my front door. I stare for a bit and then push it slightly with my foot. Slightly heavy but not bad. I haven't ordered anything lately so what was the deal? I shrug and open my door. The sun is starting to set behind me and it's been a long day at work so I decide to figure it out inside. With a drink. People at work aren't the easiest to deal with and drinks often help. Relaxing with a drink, closing my eyes and temporarily imagining a fantasy world where I tell my bitchy coworkers exactly what I think of them rather than smiling woodenly and nodding my head. Feeling my heart race and cursing myself for wanting to just run from the lady in purchasing or whoever is yelling at me at the moment. The box isn't as heavy as it looks so I drag it into the living room and set it down in front of my couch. I'm curious but tequila is calling my name so I leave it and put together a little sweet mixed drink in my small kitchen. The house I rent is perfect for me - a bedroom, small office, living room big enough for a small flat screen TV, couch and recliner and a kitchen big enough for a microwave. And stove. I guess. I even know how to turn the stove on and off and I call that an accomplishment. I recognize some people use them to cook food but that seems akin to black magic and I'd rather not deal with it. I try to tell myself that the pudge around my waist and general lack of definition is due to getting close to 30 (still 27, dammit!) and not all of the ramen noodles I eat. Or the drinking. So, I take my drink, ice clinking in the glass, back to the couch. Sitting hunched over, I stare at the box but my mind wanders. It's the same every evening. Kicking myself for being a pussy. I know I should man up and deal with my coworkers better but hindsight is what it is. Easy for me to think of what I should have done but when I'm there and having to deal with people, I get a little mini panic attack. Fight or flight and I always back down. Working in the credit department and having to tell sales people why we can't sell to a particular customer is stressful. I can almost feel the sweat and shakes starting at just the memory. Such a stupid thing to get worked up about. I'm doing my freakin' job, making sure we don't sell to someone that's going to bail but I have to deal with pushy sales people rolling their eyes at me and giving me shit for it? Fuck. But the part that pisses me off the most is that I take it. Cowed. When all I'm doing is my job. My drink is almost halfway gone already and I take another quick swig of it. I can feel my cheeks heating up and everything is slightly softer around the edges. Perfect. Just where I want to be. Fuck work. I lean forward, open the plastic pouch on the side of the box and pull out the packing slip. It's blank except for my full name at the type in simple typeface. Nothing else at all. I turn it around but the whole thing is completely blank other than my name. I'd wonder if it was a prank but who would go to this kind of effort? I don't have friends. I've lived in the town for a few years and never bothered making friends. Most of the ones I had growing up still live on the East Coast and have their own lives. And children. And whatever. I hardly even talk to them online. My nearly empty drink goes on the end table next to my used, cheap couch and I lean forward to pull slightly on the top of the box. It's sturdy but a hard tug lifts it. A harder tug with my out-of-shape muscles and a loud creak makes the top give way. The top is off but I can't make anything out inside of the box. A large plastic bag and something brown. The bag looks like a garment bag from a dry cleaner. I reach my hand in and it's all soft. Fuck it. I grab and pull it out. And then drop it again. A large wolf-like head stares up at me. It's not real. I can see that. It's close to being real but it's not. It's big. I know what wolves look like and this isn't it. And the head is connected to something. Full disclosure time. The biggest reason I'm shocked is because I have a thing for werewolves. Were-animals. Furries aren't my thing. What are those? People that dress up in typically large plushy outfits almost like large stuffed animals. Nothing against them but it's never been my thing. They don't look real to me and that's what I want. Realism. That's what turns me on. So I see this head and that's what I see. Werewolf. A real, well-made werewolf head. Now I do look around. I have werewolf porn on my computer. Mostly pictures, some stories and a few video clips. My kneejerk reaction is to wonder if someone is snooping on my computer and sent this as... what? Blackmail? When I calm down I realize how much that doesn't make sense. Why would they? Why pay money for something that looks that realistic and then send it to me? If they were going to make fun of me or make me feel bad, a letter or something would've done it. Too many windows in here. I leave the lid but pick up the box and bring it to my bedroom, closing the door behind me. The two small windows are already closed so I close the door and take a minute to look around for the bogeyman. It's a stupid thing but it makes me relax. Only now I feel like checking the rest of the house, calling myself stupid the entire time. My hands are sweating and my heart is racing. Closets are empty, doors are locked and windows are closed. Nothing under the bed or in my cupboards. Back to my room and the box. I stare for a moment again. Simple but well-made wooden box. Fuck it. I pull out the plastic bag and set it on the bed. The ... thing slides out of the bag so I throw the plastic in the corner and stare at the thing left on the bed. It's a suit. A fur suit. But not like any I've ever seen. I can smell the slight scent of chemicals - latex? Rubber? Hell if I know. Breasts. Distinct lack of penis. It's a female werewolf fursuit. Extremely realistic. I'm hard just staring at it. With shaking hands, I lay it out on the bed on its back. There's a zipper from the throat down to the lower stomach. A very small zipper. The suit is deflated but I can tell it is taller than me. I can't stop staring at the breasts and pussy for the life of me. The pussy is hidden under fur but the breasts are full and not at all deflated. They lay somewhat flat and I can see the hint of the fat nipples through very realistic fur. The tail is thick and somewhat bushy but those tits... I reach out hesitantly and then stop. Licking my lips, I reach out and touch. Definitely some kind of rubber but I can feel the nipples and I think I might be leaking pre- cum because I'm so fucking turned on. The fur is soft and I have no idea what it's made out of but it's incredibly real feeling. I trace my hand down the breast to the deflated stomach, feeling the bumps where hard muscles would be but instead finding formed rubber fake muscles. The "skin" under the fur is smooth and an interesting texture. My finger goes down to the thigh and then I touch the tuft of fur above the thing's clit. I dig a little to find the pussy. The pussy lips are delicate and there's a hole that opens into the interior of the suit. I step back to look again. My hand is on my pants. I'm rubbing myself and my heart is hammering in my chest. Too crazy. I've never really looked for fursuits online but in my accidental Internet browsing, I've never seen anything close to this kind of detail. I couldn't even imagine what it would cost. Or, why it's here. I've never told anyone about my fetish. Ever. I don't know enough about computers but I've heard the stories about people hacking into people's computers but, again, why do that and then send something like this? None of it makes sense. God. I want to jack off. This is turning me on far more than any of the other erotica I have. Pictures or otherwise. Turning it over, I learn the ass is slightly padded as well. It takes a bit to arrange the thing but I do it. Laying the arms out and up, fingers straight out. The claws for the thing are actually sharp and hard. I have no idea what they're made out of. The tail is connected at the end of the tailbone but it's floppy and I can lay it to the side. Classic position now - doggy style. It even has a little asshole under a light bit of fur. I feel ridiculous thinking it but the thing has a nice ass. Round and strong looking even if it's a deflated suit. Fuck it. When I masturbate, I usually use tissues to hold the cum but otherwise use my bare hands. However, I have a bottle of lube for ... special occasions. I strip and avoid looking at myself in the mirror. Yeah, I'm ashamed of my body. I don't keep it up. I keep telling myself I'll go to the gym but I always seem to come up with an excuse. So I'm pudgy. Dammit. And embarrassed as hell by what I'm about to do. The bottle of lube is slick and annoying to hold but I ignore that and bring it over to the bed, standing behind the suit. My dick, a respectable 7" is throbbing and there is some pre-cum at the tip. I think about it again but I can't seem to stop myself. A squirt or two of lube and my dick is slick with it. I rub some off of my fingers and onto the thing's pussy lips, pushing my fingers in and pretending it's real. Wiping as much of the lube on my leg as I can, I put my hands on the suit's ass cheeks and spread them. It's... awkward. They're padded but still just parts of a fursuit. I can see the pussy more easily from behind and I guide my dick into it. It's not at all the same - the hole opens up directly into the suit so I can only feel it around my dick at the opening. I close my eyes and lean forward and pretend. I thrust in and out a few times and eventually I'm gliding without the suit sticking to me. It almost feels real. I'll save you the embarrassing details of the noises I make. While the pussy isn't griping my entire dick, the feeling of the fur under me and my imagination kicks in and I'm suddenly cumming. A lot. That's not so unusual but, Jesus Christ, I'm still hard and it takes several more minutes before I'm exhausted and I pull out. I watch when I do so I can see what it looks like to pull my dick out of she-wolf's pussy. Some of my cum has stuck to my dick and the fur around the suit's pussy but just a little. I'm still half-hard and breathing heavily. I can't stop staring at the thing. It's detailed. The outlines of shoulder blades and muscles along the back, tendons in the neck leading up to the head and it even has a thick bit of fur along the back of the neck and a mix of long brown hair from the human part of the werewolf. Ridges along the nuzzle and teeth but no tongue. The teeth aren't real teeth but, like the claws, they're hard and sharp. I could cut myself on them. It looks like the thing is over 6' tall. Maybe 6'5" or a little taller? Hard to tell with it deflated. I'm 5'8" so bigger than me. And strong, lithe muscles in the detail. They're sculpted into the rubber and hidden by thick fur but it's easy to tell the thing is supposed to be strong and big. I sit next to it on the bed and stroke the fur some more. Shit. I turn it over to find my cum on the bed (came out through the zippered opening of the suit) and a good bit of cum pooled in the bottom of it where the ass would be. The inside looks like pink-brown rubber and is slick to the touch so it should be easy to carefully clean. Another thought hits me as I'm looking. It's obvious but not something I really thought of at first. It's a suit. Sure, a lady werewolf but still a werewolf and still a suit. And it's not a bulk fursuit. I could... I could try it on. It's not really my thing, is it? But one time just to see what it looks like? One time and then off and done, right? I can feel myself getting hard at the thought. It's an interesting mix. Guys do nothing for me. No, I have nothing against non-hetero guys at all. I don't get creeped out by hugging a gay guy at all. Just... doesn't do anything for me at all. But, werewolves do. She-wolves. Lady werewolves. So, dressing up and looking... maybe I could try a couple pictures and keep them for later for myself? There are holes for legs and feet and arms and it looks like the head works a bit like a hoodie. Possibly a tight fit but its stretchy and there's some room. The muzzle has no tongue and no bones to support it so it might look floppy but if I have my head at a good angle when I take a - I stop. I'm seriously considering it. Actually considering putting the suit on so I can see what it looks like. I touch the inside of the thighs and I can tell my own unimpressive legs will fit through the holes. I'm hard again. I consider, what? Fucking the suit again? I flush and it's not the alcohol this time. No worse than using a Fleshlight or masturbating, right? Pulling the right leg over to me, I put my foot into the opening and there's plenty of room. The material is slick enough and the legs are big enough since they're made for something much bigger than me. It's cool against my skin and I have to tug somewhat hard to make my foot fit at the very end but it finally does. The material on the bottom of the foot is harder around the balls of the feet and the hells. Leathery and tough. My toes don't fit into the spaces for the suit's toes but it kind of matches. There are claws here too and they're made of the same stuff - hard and sharp. The little toes are pulled back to the middle of the foot on the side and the feet are longer than a normal human feet with the balls of the foot stretched out so that it'd be comfortable to stand on them if it was a real werewolf. My dick is throbbing and bobbing in the cool air. I look at my leg in the suit and the effect is amazing. I can easily pretend I'm a werewolf like this. The skin still feels rubbery and loose against my own skin since I'm very much smaller than the werewolf is supposed to be but the fake sculpted muscles are a nice touch and the fur feels like real animal fur. That thought makes me pause. Surely it's not real fur, right? Whoever made this wouldn't use real fur? I don't have much experience with animals but it's not quite like dog fur. It's not wolf fur, is it? I finally decide to pretend it's fake like the skin. It has to be. The other leg is harder to pull on for some reason. My sweat is making the inside of the leg stick harder to my leg but I still struggle and yank and pull until I have my foot in the bottom. Only as I sit back down all the way do I feel my cold cum against my ass and balls. Ugh. I think about cleaning it off but I'm not sure what to use that won't mess up the rubber. Soap and water? Would that eat the rubber or make it less stretchy? For some reason that rings a bell. I'll just shower when I'm done and then look up how to clean it off. I'm losing my nerves and it was a pain in the ass getting my legs in so whatever. It's my own cum, it's not going to kill me. My balls sit uncomfortably against the opening for the pussy and I'm careful that the zipper doesn't grab at my pubic hairs. I reach into the pussy and feel my balls. The tuft of fur above the clit is split in half by the zipper. I run my fingers through it. My ass fits decently into the space where the suit's ass checks are. Lower but roughly the same area. I grab the right arm of the suit with my left and tug it around my arm. This is harder than the legs. Definitely a tighter fit. The leg muscles of the werewolf are massive but the arms are more lithe and my slightly chubby arms push against the material. Like with the feet, my fingers don't fit all the way into the finger holes but it works. The fingers themselves are shorter than what I'd expect, and thicker but still longer than mine. They aren't particularly made for delicate work - no grasping and manipulating small things. Like I'd expect for something like a werewolf. The left arm goes on harder since my right hand is inside the suit. However, the suit's skin is relatively thin so I'm able to pinch and pull with my fingers through the material of the outfit and eventually, I wriggle my left arm in. The shoulders of the suit lay against me, hanging down and back. Definitely at least 6'5" and maybe bigger. The shoulders feel slightly padded and they're massive. Same for the fake back muscles. The back and thighs are definitely where the creator focused on with muscles. Fast and strong. I rub the divided belly of the beast. Stomach, too. Strong core, back and thighs. The top weighs heavily on me as it sags against my smaller frame. I look down and it's an odd visual. Two large, fur covered breasts hanging down and to the sides, divided by the zipper. My dick is throbbing, nearly aching from the thought of wearing the outfit and from having ... fucked it. My balls are nestled into the pussy and my sparse chest hair shows between the thick fur of the suit. The suit fits me loosely and I'm starting to warm up almost uncomfortably from all the body heat trapped in the thing. The breasts are also surprisingly heavy. I grab one in each hand and fondle them. My brain does a tricky thing where it imagines me doing it to some woman rather than me doing it to myself. But I'm watching myself do it and now my balls are aching badly from the build-up. All that's left is the zipper and the head. I stand and almost fall from the way my feet don't fit quite right in the suit. I feel my cum stretch away from the inside of the suit while sticking to my balls and ass. It's... kind of uncomfortable. The suit sags even more against me but I ignore how strange it feels to have it hanging on me. It takes quite a few tries for me to pinch the zipper with my fingers in the suit but I finally do. Very carefully, I push my eager dick and wiry pubic hair out of the way and zip up. The tuft of fur above the suit's pussy comes together nicely but I have to pull harder to bring the breasts together. My dick presses against the front of the suit but the suit is tighter around the stomach area so it's not too bad of an effect. The zipper ends under my chin. I turn to look in my dresser mirror. It's slightly disappointing. It's too saggy. Not only was the model for the outfit taller by at least a foot but they were bulkier in the shoulders and legs and it wears wrong. I almost take it off but all that's left is the head. It lays against my blond curly hair and I feel one of the teeth poking at my scalp. I have to move my arms around to make the shoulders of the suit work right but I get my fingers in the opening under the werewolf's head. It takes a bit to stretch it out to fit over my own head but it finally does. I notice, briefly, with even more disappointment that there are no holes for me to look out through the mask. Briefly I notice this. When the head touches the top of the zipper, the world explodes in pain. There's this high pitched keening noise and it feels like someone has slammed a baseball bat against my forehead while simultaneously drilling all of my teeth at once at stabbing my stomach over and over with a huge knife. I can't breathe. I'm suffocating. The air I'm sucking in through the mask starts to burn and I don't know if I'm standing or on my back or stomach or throwing up or anything. I might be screaming. I might be trying to claw my eyes out. I can't feel anything through the pain in my head and my whole body is burning. Like what I'd imagine an acid would feel if it were coursing through my veins. I'm on my hands and knees. I can feel the cheap carpet against my knees and the weight of my body on my hands. I'm shaking and gasping for breath and the floor is spinning in front of my eyes as I try to keep myself from throwing up. My stomach is clenching and unclenching painfully - cramping over and over and I growl against the pain, feeling a lump in my throat burning with the need to vomit everywhere. The carpet is swimming - the cheap brown and yellow pattern waving in front of me and I feel a cold sweat and the smell of sewage and food and everything else hitting me, threatening to make me empty my stomach. I stand, try to stand and fall back over, crashing into the dresser and not even feeling the pain through the way my head is screaming at me. Something breaks - glass and wood and I don't even pay attention. The ceiling is spinning now and I close my eyes and then stand again, swaying dangerously. My ears are still ringing and everything is moving too fast. I fall against the wall and feel the coolness of it against my skin. I close my eyes and breathe. Slowly. Slowly. Slowly. I can feel my heartbeat slow slightly and my ears aren't ringing nearly as bad as they were. The pain is going away. I open my eyes and the room isn't trying to tilt any more. I stand, shaking from everything. And then I freeze. I can see my nose. Not my nose. The end of a muzzle. Mine. My muzzle. I reach for it and see my fingers. I miss at first, overreaching. I'm wearing the suit. But, no, I'm not. I can see. Those fingers in the suit are mine. The effect almost makes me throw up. I can almost, for a brief moment, feel the ghost of my fingers as they should be, not as they are now. Not these strong, thick black- clawed fingers. I hold one up in front of my face... muzzle and turn it back and forth. I can feel them but these aren't my hands. My arms are covered in medium, brown fur. I can see the muscles moving individually as I turn my arm. Flexing under the coat of fur. Mine. I slowly bring my hand to my nose and touch it, feeling the sensation in both fingers and the bridge of my nose. Running my finger along the the length of the muzzle, I can feel the bones, skin and very short fur. Holy fucking god. It's slightly hard to see but the suit's breasts - they're there too. It's all there. All of it. It's not the suit any more. It's me. When I grab the... my breast, fat and heavy against my chest, I can feel it all. It's like I'm suddenly aware of my whole body from my head down to my toes. I can feel my ears twitching against my head, swiveling slightly. My dick is gone. When I think of it, I can again almost feel a ghost of it. Where it should be. But my stomach is flat and the tuft of fur above the pussy is there. I fall to my knees. I can't help it. I'm trembling. I feel something else and it takes me a moment to realize it's my tail laying against the ground. I can feel it on my ass cheeks. My breasts feel heavy and strange. My dick... I bring a hand to my thighs and then between them. I can almost feel a heat. There's this... I can't describe it. A softness between my legs but inside of me. When I notice it, I can feel it tighten. It's a muscle. Some muscle inside of me. My pussy. At the thought, I can feel the muscle relax, expanding. I feel things rubbing slightly on each other inside and just this... like my mouth filling with spit at the scent of some delicious smelling food. That's the closest I can put it. And this throbbing. I should know what that's like - when I'm hard and fucking horny and my dick is throbbing at me. Only it's not my dick. I feel it outside of me. My hand touches my pussy lips and I find where the throbbing is. It's the lips. I'm suddenly... I rub my thighs together slightly at the sudden feeling. This hot throbbing and I can feel this liquid that shouldn't be there but I can feel it inside of me. Jesus. The feeling of my fingers against my p... JESUS CHRIST! I touch something and my whole body jerks from it. The clit! Fuck! The clit! It can't always be this sensitive. I moan and growl and my finger presses harder against my pussy lips and I'm so hot. I can feel my cheeks burning and this building pressure. I lean forward into it with one hand on the ground and the other between my thighs, stroking my engorged pussy lips. Lost in the feeling of it. My finger dips inside of me and I jerk as the claw on the tip of the finger hurts me for a moment but then I'm pushing the finger in more and that noise is back in my ears. My breathing is erratic. I ... can't ... I can't... focus... but my hand is pumping hard, rubbing my lips and pushing into myself until I can't... There's a roaring in my ears and I can hear myself screaming in this unnatural voice - shrill and deep and almost a howl of a kind but still very human. I can feel the liquid coming out of my pussy, covering my legs and ass and hand and I'm still rubbing until it's suddenly too sensitive. I want more but I can't handle the thought of touching myself any more. The smell - it reminds me of my cum but it's different. Very different. I collapse to my side and my legs are rubbing against each other. I can't stop them. Everything just feels incredible and my muscles can't stop moving and I just... FUCK! I shake from something similar to the orgasm that brought me down. It's sudden and makes my body tremble and jerk from it. I wrap my arms around myself to try to hold it all in and THAT is a mistake as my furry arms slide against my stomach and breasts and I'm hit by another smaller orgasm from how sensitive my skin feels. My toes are curling over and over, the claw from my right big toe cutting into the wood of the dresser, cutting strips out of the wood. Eventually, I stop shaking. The smell... MY smell is intoxicating. I bring my hand up to my eyes. My cum. My cum from earlier, before all of this... it's on my fingers. I spread them apart and see the strings it makes. I can smell the new scent mixed in with the smell of my old cum. SHIT! I can feel more leaking out of me where I shouldn't be able to feel anything. I put my fingers between my legs by reflex and cry out from how sensitive I am. My whole crotch is soaked with cum - new and old. It's... it's getting hard to think... I just... the smell... I can feel a growl at the back of my throat and I don't hold back. My fingers come up to my muzzle and I breathe in deeply, luxuriating in the exotic smells. Before I can stop myself, my fingers are in my mouth. My muzzle. The taste explodes on my tongue and I feel my body go slack from it. Like I've been drugged. I almost cut myself on these new teeth - like little daggers. Everything reacts and I lick my fingers eagerly. More. I need more. More of it all. Both hands go between my legs and I'm eagerly scooping up cum that's been soaking into my legs and fur. I can feel my tail thumping slightly as I take my fingers into my mouth, licking with my long wolf's tongue, lapping up all of my juices - old and new cum. Every time I touch my pussy, a jolt travels up my spine but I want more. This musky scent of the she-wolf's cum mixed with my old cum and this body's scent is intoxicating. Until I'm clean. My fur is soaked from the cum but there's no more leaking out. I almost whine in frustration. I want more of it. I want to feel that again. I roll onto my back and feel my breasts pull up and to the sides slightly. I grab one with my left hand and experimentally tweak one of the fat, dark nipples. I jack-knife from the sudden feeling of electricity that goes in a line down from my nipple to my pussy. I can feel the inside of me doing that thing again - relaxing almost and feeling looser but knowing it's my wetness growing. I'm pinching and rolling my nipple and I don't remember consciously trying to do it, moaning from the feeling of it. My other hand reaches down to my pussy. My lips feel fatter than I remember them but it's all a new experience. I brush my clit and almost scream from it. Not yet. Not yet. I rub at my pussy lips for a moment, feeling the shivers in my spine, legs and inside my cunt until I can't take it and I press two fingers into the sopping wetness of my pussy. I've never had my ass played with as a man so I don't know how to describe what it feels like. Or what it potentially feels like to have something inside of my body like this. I don't know if it'd be similar at all. I want to touch everything at once. There's rough skin on the bottoms of my fingers and palm of my hand... paw? I ignore it and try to be gentle with my claws. It's frustrating. I want to rub the inside of my pussy but the claws are keeping that off the menu. I DO whine now and I've never done that before in my life. It just happens. I'm massaging and rolling my nipple in one hand and it's bigger and harder now. My feet are rubbing on each other over and over by themselves again and I'm trying to push my fingers into my pussy as far as they can go. I feel... full? Nearly full? But not full enough. There's this building pressure and the electricity from my nipples is hitting against some nerve thing in my pussy and I've lost myself in the feeling of it all. My whole body feels it along my spine and it's just building higher and higher and I'm slamming my fingers harder and harder into myself, feeling the tips of the claws against the flesh, feeling the pain for a half-second before endorphins kill the bad pain. I'm moaning and whining and making this... mewling sound as I twist on the ground, my tail pressing against me as I twist and turn. I don't... this pressure is massive. I almost can't take the sensation but I can't stop. I can't fucking stop now. I'm almost there. It's almost there. I can't... I can't... The world explodes again. I wish I could say how amazing it felt. How completely different it felt from the first time. I felt a hint of all of that - fringes of this amazing release. But, I can't. I can't because whether I'd forgotten to breathe or it was all too much suddenly, I black out. Screaming. Howling. Body shaking. Blackness. Chapter 2 I wake to grey light filtering through the blinds in my room. It's utterly quiet outside. My head is pounding and my throat is completely dry. I feel like I haven't had water in days. I work my mouth a few times, croaking and trying to make spit happen. It makes me cough and I roll over to my side and pull myself up to kneel. My head aches from the movement. I close my eyes against the pain at my temples. When I open them, I see it. I'm back. To me. To old me. I close my eyes again and almost feel like crying. I don't even know why but I can feel a lump in my throat and the threat of tears starting. I breathe deeply with my forehead against the bed until the feeling passes. I don't even know why that just happened. The only thing I can come up with is it feels like something is missing. A part of me. Some important thing that's gone. For a half second, I wonder if I dreamed all of last night but I know my dreams and how they work and that's impossible. Plus... when I sit back, I touch my leg and feel the dried cum. Even from here I can smell it and I know it's not just mine. Not just my old cum. I taste my fingers and I feel the stirrings of my erection. The switch from pussy to cock is surreal. Earlier is a blur but it was such a strong feeling that I can feel the echo of it even still. My brain is having a hard time remembering the feel of a wet pussy. My dick throbs from the memory of it and there's this strange disassociation that my brain is doing. It's trying to put me in the place of a man fucking the she-wolf rather than me being the she-wolf and masturbating. It's trying to compensate for what happened. Trying to reconcile it with me as a man. It takes 5 seconds to cum while jacking myself off. I almost feel pathetic. I don't even try to stop the cum as it spurts all over the side of my bed. Only then do I notice a large dried spot on the floor where I was laying. I lean down and smell it - it's the she-wolf's scent. Before I know what I'm doing, I'm rubbing the side of my face against it, a small growl escaping my lips without a thought. The cheap carpeting is only very slightly wet now. I almost cry again but I put it away quickly. The suit! It has to be somewhere. I search frantically. The bedroom is empty except for the plastic wrapping the suit came in and the shattered box. I don't remember breaking it. Nothing under the bed, in the closet... In my rush, I step on glass from the broken dresser mirror and it hurts badly but I ignore it. Hallway closet, kitchen, bathroom, living room - all are empty. The lid for the box is in the living room but that's it. I peek out of my front door onto my steps but no new box waits for me. I can feel the lump in my throat yet again but I push it away and make my way to the shower. Sleep won't be coming again tonight. This morning. Whatever damn time it is. Not after that. I notice the small bit of glass in my foot when I step onto the bathroom linoleum. I bite back a curse and sit to pull it out. The seat is cold on my ass. I feel drained. Of energy and everything else. The shower heats up quickly and I step into the warmth, closing my eyes to water cascading over my face and hair. Memories of the night hit me almost physically, forcing me back. A small whimper escapes my lips and my knees buckle. I sit before I can fall from it. Clutching my knees to my chest, I let my mind go and ignore everything except the steady stream from the shower head. I don't know how long I sit like that but I can feel the water starting to turn colder. I stand and start my routine - shampoo worked into my blonde hair. Bar of soap, lathered with my hands and then... when I accidentally brush my soapy hands against my small nipple, I feel a tiny jolt of electricity shoot down to my balls. My dick works at becoming hard but it's too soon after jacking off and it stays mostly limp. I turn with my back to the shower head and lean my forehead against the shower wall. My finger tweaks my useless nipple and I feel the tickling electricity building at the base of my dick. I know it's useless but I touch the spot between my balls and my ass with my other hand and press against my skin. If I pretend hard enough, I think I can feel a faint echo of last night's pleasure. But, I'm fooling myself and all I'm feeling is the ticklish pressure building in my balls from the nipple. I stop and rinse off, sighing heavily. Five minutes to finish brushing my somewhat crooked teeth. My parents could never afford braces and, now that I'm older, there's other things I'd rather buy. It's when I'm pulling my pants on that I notice - I'm thinner than I was before. My excess fat is gone. Everywhere. No developing beer gut, no slightly flabby arms and I can see the faint trace of muscle on my legs. Not actual toned muscles but there's no fat to hide what's there. My pants are loose enough for me to notch up three more holes on my belt. My polo shirt is noticeably loose but I have nothing tighter - I donated all of my old smaller clothes to Goodwill years ago. I sit and think about it while rubbing my leg. Why? Burning calories for whatever happened last night or something else? I don't feel different otherwise. No strange bursts of energy, everything else looks the same. Same moles, same few freckles, same pimple on my left arm and everything. I couldn't even begin to guess. My bedside clock tells me it's getting close to 6 in the morning so I decide to check for any messages from the dating websites I use. Primarily OKCupid but I've had a few nibbles on Craigslist as well. Lots of freaks and fake people on that last one but I've become good at sniffing them out. Takes me a bowl of sugary cereal to make my way through new ads. I almost respond to one ad on Craigslist but then I stop. What the hell? Did last night seriously happen? What the fuck am I doing? I stand and hunt for the packing slip from the box... crate... thing. I find it on the floor next to the couch. It's empty. Completely blank - my name isn't anywhere on the sheet of paper. Nothing. No faded ink, no impression from any typewriter or anything else. Just a pure white piece of paper. But, the paper exists. And the box. And the plastic bag. I'm not losing my mind. I'm not. The cum on the carpet, too. I didn't make that up. I didn't run a marathon in my sleep and burn off all my fat somehow. My alarm startles me and I drop the paper. Shit. It's my warning to start heading to work. Should I call in sick? And then what? Mope around my apartment? No, no. Not that. Work will distract me. I'll take some time to puzzle things out and I can tackle things again when I get home. I grab my wallet, keys and jacket and head out. My car is a humble little Honda that gets me going fast enough to barely beat the morning traffic rush. Nearly 180,000 miles and still going. It was a graduation present from my parents and I've tried to keep it in good shape. The best I can, anyway. There's usually not too many people in at this time of the morning and today's no exception. The receptionist doesn't get in until 8 and my boss gets in whenever the hell he wants so I make my way quietly to my desk. We have a fancy coffee and tea machine with free packs of both but coffee is disgusting so I load up my huge mug with hot water and a packet of green tea. Work passes. I'm barely there. It's the same thing as most every other day - pressure from the sales team, my boss hiding and letting me take most of the hits. I'm counting the minutes until I'm done. When I finally am done, I bolt for it. But, rather than follow my routine and head home, I sit in my car. A few other people make their way to their cars but I lean my seat back and close my eyes, breathing in slowly. I try to let the stress from work just wash off of me. Instead, my brain helpfully offers of imagery from the night before. Like an asshole. Last night is hard to remember exactly but I get little flashes of things. Looking down at ... my breasts. The incredibly intense feeling of the pussy and clit. The fur and tail and muzzle and - but, no. Little flashes. That's all I can remember. It's not that the memories are fading, they're just fuzzy and broken. Pushing the memories aside, I find I'm rubbing my dick and chest. Except not really rubbing my dick at all. I've got my hand cupped around where my dick and balls are in my pants with my two of my fingers brushing against the area below the balls. I'm massaging my balls, dick and that one spot. And moaning while arching my back ever so slowly. The hand on my chest is pressed against my pec - right where the bottom of some imagined tit would be. I flush and stop. Except to scratch my chest below the imagined breast - the shirt feels loose and itchy against my skin. It's a good scratch, too. I feel it all the way down to my feet, through my balls. My feet twist in response. Damn. A decision is made. New clothes! For some reason, the thought of going home like usual does not work for me right now. I don't want to be alone with my thoughts. Not right now. Going back home, being near the bedroom... I think having experienced what I did and then losing it is not something I want to face right now. It's like learning your favorite childhood home was bought by someone else. You don't want to go and see what they've done to the place - the memories are too painful. Traffic is somewhat light and it only takes me ten minutes to find a parking spot in the sprawling mall parking lot, near the JC Penny side of the mall. I feel nervous being in public. Anxious. As if everyone looking at me knows what happened last night. Knows about my fetish, the werewolf stuff and the... the... whatever happened. That I was a woman. She-wolf. Whatever. It feels like they're all staring and judging me. Dammit. I don't usually get creepy paranoia but it's hitting me pretty hard and making my heart pound in my ears. I almost decide to go back home after all. Almost. I feel weirdly self-conscious and that's never happened. But, no, I keep going. The store is slightly busy. As usual, the entrance dumps me into the women's section. I think it must be standard policy for department stores to have the men's section out of the way upstairs or in a small corner. And then they hide the escalators. It takes me a moment to spot the way upstairs but I do and I make my way there. Through the lingerie section. I can't help glancing at the mannequins. It's a thing - like spotting a pretty girl at the corner of my eyes. So, I look. And I turn red. And stop. Did I look like that? I feel my dick stirring in my pants and I'm thankful they're loose now. The mannequin in slim. From what I remember last night, I... I turn red even thinking of it. Thinking of myself in that way. As a woman. Like the mannequin. But, no, I was more fleshed out. I don't know if it was because of the werewolf bit or something else but I remember the size of my thighs. The size of my breasts. I wish I'd seen myself as a plain w... I stop again. Jesus. What the hell? No. No, I'm not going to be ashamed of it. I was a woman. A she-wolf. Temporarily. There's nothing wrong with wanting to have seen what I looked like as a woman. It doesn't change who I am. I just... looked a lot different. And wished I could've seen myself better. So I look at the mannequin and wonder. And feel my erection throbbing. Did my ass look like that? My ass as a man is somewhat flat and simply there. Did I have wider hips? I think I did. Dammit. The she-wolf. I can't make up my mind to think of it like "Did I..." or as "Did the she- wolf..." I was the she-wolf but there's a difference there. Something I won't see again. Something that wasn't entirely me. From what I remember of looking down, my (I was in that skin so they are mine, not the she-wolf's - why quibble about it?) breasts were definitely bigger. I don't think I've ever seen a department store mannequin with big breasts. Or even decent sized. I'm scratching my chest again, subconsciously, but it feels good so I let it go. I find my eyes drawn back to the ass of the mannequin. The ass and where the pussy would be. I can remember my fingers between my thighs, rubbing my pussy and I can almost remember how it felt - the wetness on my fingers (paws?) and the electricity of those same fingers on the... my pussy lips. I imagine the mannequin on its knees, fingering itself like I did, leaning forward with one hand on the ground. I have to physically shift my feet around at the memory and visual. My face must be bright red right now. And then, in my imagination, the mannequin goes to both hands, ass in the air, pussy wet and waiting for me and I feel the ache in my balls. Only it's not me. It's not me behind the mentally animated mannequin. I'm placing myself in the mannequin's spot and someone else is behind me. Me on my hands and knees, ass up. Me with a dripping cunt. Me waiting for ... for what? For what? For who? I don't... I don't know how this ends. It has to be a woman behind me, right? But it's not. My fucking brain keeps pushing a picture of some faceless guy on his knees behind the mannequin... me... the she-wolf. FUCK! It's confusing as hell. I don't go for woman-on-woman porn. I enjoy watching the penetration and watching the woman get fucked. Not fake porn star stuff but amateur videos where the couple is actually enjoying themselves and making really hot, honest noises. Yeah, I get hard watching two women go at it. Sure. But I'd rather watch a guy and girl do it. Or dig through my werewolf stuff for a good picture to look at. Some random woman transformed half- way into a werewolf, naked and turned on from the change. My brain isn't helping. It's picturing the mannequin/she-wolf on hands and knees, putting me there since I was just picturing how I stacked up and then adding in the guy. And it's not me as the guy. And I want it. No. No, the she-wolf wants it. It's not me. I've accidentally caught gay male porn while digging around and I can honestly say it didn't do it for me. At all. I don't harbor secret homosexual desires. I'm not a closeted homosexual. Men just... they just don't... It's the same. That's what it is. The same as watching the porn - men and women. No big deal. I'm just picturing it slightly differently is all. And because I lived that, as a woman, she-wolf, whatever - I lived that briefly so I'm just seeing it for a bit in that way. I relax muscles I wasn't aware I was holding. So, if that's true... The imagined faceless man leans forward, holding his dick and guiding it toward the w... my... puss - "Can I help you find anything, sir?" The saleswoman's voice makes me jump. Literally. I can't remember the last time someone made me actually jump. My heart is suddenly in my throat and the only reason I don't shriek is that I can't make my mouth work. I feel my face absolutely burning as I gape at the woman like a dying fish. When my voice finally works, I gasp out a "No, just looking!" And then turn even redder when I realize how that sounds right now with where I'm standing. The lady raises an eyebrow at the comment. I'm not graceful about things. I just walk away. I'll remember that incident for a very, very long time. I avoid looking at anyone else as I make my way up to the next floor, straight to the men's area. Polo shirts and slacks. Simple. I hold a few up to myself and it looks like I'm an easy medium size now. Pant size seems to be a 30 rather than 34 and the 30 looks like it'll fit slightly loose. Normally I'd just buy the clothes and go but I need to make sure they fit. I avoid the sales ladies in shame and find the nearest room and strip bare. The pants fit but I'm off on my guess - they're oddly snug around the sides. Not bad but they remind me I'm wearing them whenever I move. I admire myself in the mirror. No shame in that - I can't remember the last time I was in shape. My stomach is flat and my... oh, I hadn't noticed. My chest is hairless now. Funny. I used to have just a bit of chest hair between my pecs but it's gone now. I could see that making sense if changing into a lady. Whatever caused it to happen could've killed all my body hair or something but there's the werewolf thing as well. Would they have canceled each other out? And smooth. I run my fingers along my chest where the hair used to be and then over to a small line of redness on my side, a little ways below my left nipple. No wonder I've been scratching. No bumps or anything - just red. I scratch lightly and it feels wonderful. Which probably means I shouldn't scratch. I wonder if I've become suddenly allergic to my detergent? The shirts won't work - they bother my skin. A lot. I could try washing them at home (with a new detergent?) and see if that does it but it feels like things are crawling all over me while I'm wearing them. At least with my old shirt, it was loose so I couldn't notice. I check the tag on the new shirts - polyester and cotton. My old shirt is the same. Shit. All right. I dress back in my old clothes and head out, putting the new shirts back. I nearly find a sales lady but I'm still stinging from earlier so I just start walking around. Almost everything is a polyester/cotton blend. Oh. Silk. Wow. That feels nice. But, Jesus! $70 for a simple shirt? Still... I grab a couple and head back to the changing room. The difference is amazing. Yeah, I've touched silk before but I've never worn it or felt it against my skin this much. And the way it rubs against me? Against my nipples? I'm sold. I don't feel any of the irritation I felt earlier and they just feel so damn good. And pricey. I shrug. I'm fairly smart about my money so it's not a big deal even with my meager paycheck. Two shirts, two pants and I can even look the cute checkout girl in the eye without blushing. There. See? I'm fine. I can look at the checkout girl and know that I'd fuck her in a heartbeat. I like girls just fine. I can easily see her bent over her counter top, my hands grabbing at her little tits, fucking her from behind, my dick slamming into her over and ov- "Sir? Is this all today?" I'm growling a little and clawing the top of her counter slightly with my nails. Jesus. What? "Yes, sorry. Sorry. Yes, that's all." I clear my throat and look away. As nonchalantly as possible. And failing at it. Debit card swiped, bag grabbed, girl's eyes avoided and I make a hasty exit from the store and to my car. And from the car to my house and inside. I don't think of anything on the way. Nothing. I keep focused on the cars in front of me as I drive. Only when I'm safely inside my house do I relax. And, yes, I checked the front for another mysterious box. I have to face it. That was it. That's all. And I can deal with that. I'll never forget it. Ever. At least not the pieces I can remember. I just... I just wish I'd had more time. Or could remember the whole thing better. I drop the bag of clothes on the floor by the couch and go to the bedroom to change. Nothing feels quite right on me right now and I forgot to stop at the store to get different detergent. I could go out again but I really don't want to face people right now. It's getting late, anyway. The clock on the microwave tells me I've killed three hours driving in traffic and shopping. I'm exhausted. Mentally and physically. My stomach rolls slightly at the thought of instant food but all I want to do is eat and go to bed. So, I find myself making (microwaving) a random frozen dinner in the kitchen. In my underwear. Not quite a first but I rarely walk around without clothes on. It's just that I feel comfortable at the moment. Call it my new weight and the way my old clothes itch, if you want. Food nuked, drink made, I go and sit down at the computer to eat. No new messages on OKCupid, as usual. Nothing on Craigslist. A typical night, basically. I catch up on a few local news stories while I eat but I rush through it. I've been turned on all day and need some release. Plus, my ass is starting to hurt. Less padding? Who knows. It's uncomfortable but not a big deal. One good thing about microwaved dinners? No dishes. I toss the tray away then sit back at the computer. With tissues. I have a set of websites I visit for porn. Standard porn and werewolf stuff. I decide it's an evening for watching real people so I load up RedTube and go to their amateur section. I have a couple favorites and I decide on this one couple where they go through all kinds of different positions. The lady is in shape - not rail thin (gross) but nicely curved. Big tits but not obscenely so. I usually skip straight to doggy-style (my favorite position and the best part of the video) but I let it start from the beginning and fondle myself while they laugh and play with each other. The lady is hot and the guy is in pretty good shape with a decent sized dick. The girl is rolling around half-naked on the bed when I realize what I'm doing. Usually, I watch the woman and imagine myself doing the undressing and playing. Not this time. No. This time I'm comparing. Like with the mannequin. I'm watching almost as if I'm taking notes on her shape. As if I'm filling in the holes of last night memories with the shape of this woman. As if I'm watching her to get an idea of what I might've looked like. It probably doesn't sound like a big deal but it's really fucking different for me. Goddammit. I skip ahead to just before she goes to her hands and knees. She's on her back, naked now, legs and arms wrapped around the guy. He's fucking her bare and she's moaning from the pounding she's getting. I find my eyes drawn to her pussy, watching the guy's dick and the way she's moving with him. I tell myself that's normal. And, it is. I totally do that. Except I'm wondering what it feels like. If it's much different from what I remember of my fingers in my pussy. In my wet cunt. My sopping wet pussy. My hands are working frantically at my dick now, remembering last night. Remembering the little bits I can. Shit, yes. I'm close. The way it felt to have that muscle stretched by those fingers. Fuck, yes. Mmmmm... I'm moaning but I don't notice. I never moan. Ever. I'm quiet in bed. But I'm moaning now. Yes. Would a dick be different? Different than the way the fingers felt? Sh..shit...so close... so close... the fingers or the dick, I don't care... just picturing... hands and knees... filled with a thick coc... my orgasm hits hard and cum goes everywhere. Son of a bitch! I forgot the tissues! My toes are curling and I'm still pumping myself and cumming, feeling the hot liquid on my hands and watching it hit my desk. F...fuck... Jesus. My heart is racing, my face is flushed and, oh Jesus, did I just whimper? No, no, no. That shit won't work. I do not want to be fucking some girl and then... do that. I sigh and reach for the tissues. The cum is already turning cold on the tops of my fingers. I remember last night. I remember part of that - tasting the girl cum. And my own cum. I stare. My dick stirs feebly at the thought. The thought of tasting my own cum. And I look at it. At my hand. At the nearly clear liquid on my fingers. No. I won't. I can't. I've mostly used condoms in my life but this one semi-serious relationship, we ditched and went bare. I avoided oral with her after cumming. Because that's what you do, right? You don't go down on a girl after you've cum in her. So, no. I won't. But the pull is undeniable. Fucking thing! If you're going to give me something like one night of being a woman then you could do the fucking courtesy of not leaving any bullshit behind! I'm not sure who I'm mentally cursing but I'm mad. Or I tell myself that's why my heart is racing. No. No, no, no. Fucking no. I close my eyes and bring my hand to my lips. I picture it. She-wolf. Woman. Like last night. My dick isn't feeble any more. I'm mostly hard again. But, in my mind, I'm a she-wolf. I picture it clearly. Only this time I'm on my knees and forearm, reaching a hand to my pussy to grab cum out of me, pulling it to my mouth. The taste surprises me. It's good. I didn't even know I put my fingers in my mouth but I did. And it's good. Really good. I moan and I can't fucking help it. It's a needy kind of moan. I find myself pushing my fingers into my mouth and getting hard because of it, sucking on them as I pull them out, cleaning off the cum. Feeling it against my teeth as I scrape and taste it with my tongue. Salty but a hint of something I can't describe. I'm not going to lie. I clean up all of my cum except for the bits on the carpet. And by "clean up", I mean I use my fingers to pick the cum up and then lick myself off. Not just a quick lick of my fingers but sucking on them. That turns me on almost more than the taste of my own cum. I close my eyes every time I do it. I tell myself that it's because I'm imagining myself back as the she-wolf but, I'm not. I'm just closing my eyes to taste it. To take away distracting sensations and focus on my mouth. And then I masturbate again. I briefly consider hunching over and aiming for my mouth but, fuck it, I want it on my fingers. I want the feeling of my fingers deep in my mouth as I suck the cum off ... the orgasm hits me again and my legs are twisting from it. From the release of pressure in my balls. I held one hand over the held of my dick and I feel the cum hit it. I don't hesitate. I dip the fingers of my one hand into the cum and start sucking. It's almost like I'm hypnotized. I have no rational thoughts. None. I'm moaning at the feeling of my fingers in my mouth and the taste of the cum. I swear to god, my dick is trying to get hard again but it's not happening. And then, I'm clean. And I still want more. I can still feel the taste in my mouth and it actually makes me smile. I... I want to blame this on the wolf. On the woman. It's just because last night was so recent. Echoes of that. That's all. I'm wishing my stomach would clench in disgust and I'd throw up but, I don't. And THAT makes me happy because, shit, because I don't want to lose this taste in my mouth. I can't get comfortable on the chair anymore. My ass actually hurts a lot. A soreness from sitting too long. I glance over at the porn - they lady is straddling the guy and riding his cock. My eyes are drawn to it. His cock. I shut off the thought of wondering what the guy's cum tastes like. No. That's too fucking far. Instead, I kneel on the floor. Like last night. Thighs spread. I can feel the carpet on my balls. I play with them briefly but then go to my hands and knees with my head down and my eyes closed. My ass spreads from the motion and I can feel the air on my asshole. Like this? I picture the she-wolf again. She wants it, I tell myself. She wants to see what this would be like. She does. I can still taste the cum in my mouth. No. I stand up. My legs are shaky and my ass hurts but I ignore it. A quick scratch to my bare chest and I go wash my hands. No. This will pass. It'll go away. I'm done with it. Never again. Never fucking again. I don't brush my teeth that night. I tell myself it's because I'm tired but that's not why. Not at all. I just don't want to lose the taste of cum in my mouth yet. Chapter 3 My alarm startles me awake. I don't normally sleep so solidly but this time, I did. No dreams to remember at all, either. Just pure solid sleep. I feel really good and relaxed. Until I sit up. There's this dull ache way low in my stomach. It's not terrible but it's uncomfortable as hell and almost feels like the leftovers of being kicked in the balls. I grimace against the pain and rub under my balls gently. Too much masturbating and being hard almost all day yesterday, probably. I ignore it and take my shower. In fact, I ignore a lot of what happened yesterday. The memory of the night before last is there but easier to shove away. And the other stuff? I just kind of put it into this little mental box and bury it. I feel like toasted crap but the shower works wonders. Turned up almost all the way, I just stand and turn this way and that to let the hot water wash over my body. Luxurious. Usually my showers are short but the hot water is working my muscles, relaxing them. Loosening them. I hadn't noticed how stiff I was from everything. Mmmm... my skin feels especially sensitive at the moment, in a good way but also in that crazy almost-too-much-to-bear tickling sensitivity. Definitely going to change my detergent. When the water turns slightly colder, I grab the soap and lather my hands. Wow. I am sensitive. And my skin is really smooth. Crazy smooth. I guess I hadn't realized what losing my body hair meant because my hands just glide over my ches- OH SHIT! My nipples feel really good right now. Could it be? I look down but, no, they're just my nipples. Small with the little, barely quarter sized aureole around them. Erect, sure, but I'm playing with them. It's much more noticeable - the jolt to my balls. Huh. It also makes the ache less... ache-y. I lean back against the shower wall, out of the stream of water, and rub both nipples. Fuck, yes. I'm rock hard from the feeling but not even thinking of touching my dick because my nipples feel so ... different. Left over response from the other night but, unlike the confused imagery from yesterday, I'll gladly take it. I don't notice my right hand going down to my thigh. My left middle and index fingers are rubbing and tweaking my tiny left nipple while my right hand has settled on the crease between my inner thigh and balls. My eyes are closed, not imagining anything - just losing myself in the feeling of the live nerve running straight from my nipple to my dick. I'm pressing the fingers and flat of my right hand against the side of my balls and inner thigh - rubbing the area in a down and forward motion over and over as if massaging myself. If I were noticing it, I'd say it felt good in an odd way. But, I don't notice it and I'm not doing it on purpose. All I know is the - FUCK! I buckle and fall on my ass, thankful there's some padding there. Shaking. I'm sh... shaking and.... Jesus, it's hard to breathe. My dick is pumping, cumming against the walls. Pale glops of sperm hitting here and there and being taken down by the water. I can't seem to control my body. My hips keep jerking and my legs are like a pair of snakes fighting in a bag. I won't ever admit it but that small part of me that's coherent through the orgasm and shaking is faintly sad that the cum is gone to where I can't get it. My body settles after a little bit of the strange jerkiness. I have my arms clenched around my chest and lower stomach and I'm breathing hard. I have, never in my life, ever cum without my dick being involved in some way. Ever. My dick is flaccid against my balls and that ache is back deep in me. I curse myself for getting worked up and making it worse but what's done is done and the shower's going cold. I go to my knees, ignoring the image of the she-wolf on her knees, and, but no, I can't stand. I can reach the shampoo bottle from where I am so I quickly clean my hair and turn off the cold water. So, I sit. Kneel. With my hands on my thighs and my eyes closed. Breathing. Wiggling my toes. When I'm sure I can stand, I do, leaning on the walls for support. I'm careful with the towel as I dry off since I'm still sensitive and my nipples feel painful from me messing with them. There's barely time to brush my teeth and grab a protein bar to eat on the way to work so I rush through it. The tags come of off my new clothes really easily and I'm pleased to feel the silk cool and soft against my chest. No irritation for the skin like my other shirt and even my sore nipples aren't bothered. The pants are a little tight in the seat and sides but I'm sure I'll ease into them the more I wear them. I do a quick glance in the mirror to make sure I didn't miss any tags, turning to the side to see the back and... huh. My ass looks good in these slacks. Reaching back, I check and feel a plumpness that wasn't there before. I think the tightness of them are pushing at the skin and making it seem like I actually have an ass. Like those bras that make a lady seem to have more cleavage than she actually has. I twirl a bit to see both sides but my other alarm goes off so I head out. It's a gray day but I feel oddly cheerful. I can't figure out why but I'm tapping the steering wheel and humming some half-remembered song as I drive along to work, singing out the wrong lyrics off-key. I'm even grinning at random people during the stop-and-go part of the traffic. Why shouldn't I be happy? I turned into a fucking werewolf the other night! Why haven't I stopped to think about it and be amazed? A goddamned werewolf! Sure, I barely remember it but it happened. And, okay, as a woman too but still a werewolf. I almost feel like laughing out loud suddenly. Who'd believe it? It's something I'll remember until the day I die. Even the dull ache under my balls isn't enough to dampen my good mood. Everything just seems so much brighter. It's crazy. I call out good morning to different people as I make my way to my desk at work, humming as I go along. Tea, protein bar, email. Done. I settle into it and time passes. Things are starting to feel more routine. I check my mail for credit references, new customer forms and anything from my boss. There's a nice stack of things for me to deal with so I get started and time