Four Days From Normal

Reality begins to warp around a young wolf, affecting everyone around him, himself included. Explicit.

Tuesday - DAY 0

Arthur had tried a few different channels. He had determined that news was the best thing to get him out of bed. Peaceful ocean sounds were too soft to get him up, and the 'alarm' setting either shocked him straight onto the floor, or left his ears ringing. Drab, unsettling voices talking about terror threats were just the thing to goad him into peeling back the covers and getting out of bed.

Even with soothingly hot water, his budgeted wake-up routine left him no time to enjoy the shower. Lather, rinse, get out, and dry off in front of the mirror. He didn't want to see himself in the morning, though he still had to. Sure, there was nothing wrong with the way he looked, but there wasn't much right with it either. And being a wolf, he was about as average as someone could get.

It wasn't bad. He had gotten used to telling himself that. There was a cosmic sense of wellness that came with it. Arthur was simply normal. No pressure, no 'wasting his potential'. No one expected him in a lab coat or football jersey or tuxedo. By now, the button-down shirts and earth-tone slacks in his dresser had become old friends. They were comfy and fit him well, and didn't demand much in return.

On his way down the stairs, he passed by Jenna and Carl. Poorly dressed on purpose as always. That shade of yellow really was reserved for road signs, last he'd checked. But he was sure that when they weren't exchanging those extended good-bye kisses, they were giving the bland, mindless corporate cog the same derision that he gave the trend-obsessed, naive, 'ironic' young rebels.

The car was just as reluctant to get up as Arthur. It let out a depressingly desperate rumble the first time he revved the engine, then roared into an uneven putter the second. That was good enough. The car eased out of the driveway onto the worn gray asphalt road. He could make this drive in his sleep. And he practically did, since everything but his hindbrain could slip into rest from leaving the driveway to pulling into his parking lot beside the gleamingly unimposing office block.


With a cup of water (coffee tended to make him more uncomfortable than wakeful) he stepped into his office. It was 'his' by nature of it being the room he worked in that no one else worked in. The room was where the company's records for the past thirty years were stored. Surrounded by big filing cabinets, the desk with his computer sat cowed in the center of the room, brash yet shameful before its elders.

Nineteen-ninety two. May first to June fifteenth. Hey, today he was starting on the second decade of records. He had systematized it since doing July 31-September 14, 1982. The drawer came out and went on the end of his desk, since he needed it least. The weekly folder came out of the drawer, laid out above and to the right of the keyboard. The daily sheets came off of the stack, all the information was entered into the new system, then the sheets went face-down forming a new stack, which he would eventually close the folder around. The folder got a green tag, and went back in the drawer.

Since he was all alone in the room, he could open up videos in a small window to keep his mind occupied during the fairly dull but steady work. He was slowly working his way through just about every sci-fi series he could find, while mixing in the occasional comedy show to keep things light. All in all, it was a comfortable job.

After sinking a good four hours into the folder work, Arthur was starting to get hungry. And not wanting a 'friendly pop-in' from his boss, he got up and headed to the break room, like the company-wide memo had 'suggested'. There was Mike, the colorful guy of the office, which was a nicer way of saying the asshole that we tolerate because he makes the day more interesting, and Erica, because calling your boss by her first name was supposed to make you think she wasn't your boss. But years of working in office settings had taught him those were the sorts of things you bottled up so you could fill the silence with small talk.

The TV that was on was showing some news story about recent Congressional hearings regarding military spending oversight and the rest of the words but he'd stopped paying attention.

"...why they tried to keep people from getting in there and looking at the 'crater', because they don't want people to know they're being experimented on!" the ram said.

"Right, I'm sure -our government- can do its job well enough to keep a coverup like that going for years," Erica said.

They both looked up as Arthur pulled out a chair at the table. The cougar smiled at him, probably thankful to not be alone with Mike any more.

"What's going on?" he asked.

He sat down and began to unwrap the sandwich he'd thrown together. Mike began to say something, but Erica was able to cut him off quickly.

"Nothing much, just stuff about that meteorite that came down outside of town."

He had heard the radio say something about that. He tried to remember the other story that had been on, which he'd been able to hear more of.

"Oh yeah, that. Did you hear the thing about the terrorists they caught in Chicago? They had this plan for attacking a bunch of cities with these, uh, chemical weapons, and we were on the list," he said. "I bet the police are just sensitive about big explosions right now."

Once his sparse lunch was done, Arthur excused himself from the conversation, which had turned to the upcoming election, and went back into the world of business records from the eighties and even older sci-fi shows. As days of the past flew by, so did the hours. At five-thirty, he marked where he would start tomorrow and popped the drawer back into the cabinet. With his computer shutting down and the lights off, it was another day of satisfactory work completed.


He was hungry, but there was little in the way of appetizing and exciting food back at the house. On the way back, he turned off into a small strip mall, parking in front of Enzo's Pizzeria. He was greeted with the smell of oil, tomato and spices, of pizzas sitting in the oven, letting their crusts brown and the cheese melt into a delicious blend of flavor with the differing assortment of toppings on each.

"Hey Arthur, good ta see you! Usual, right?" Enzo asked, as greasy and warm and delightful as his pizzas.

The bull brushed off his hands on the bulge in his apron that held back a small gut.

"Yeah, that sounds nice. To go," he said.

Pizza slice in hand, he returned to his car, one hand on the wheel, the other holding the slice. In the midst of the drive he got to enjoy one of the few unmitigated pleasures of the day. After that, it was back into the driveway, avoiding Carl and Jenna's fixed-gear bikes leaning against the bushes, and back up the stairs to his apartment. He grabbed a drink from the fridge and sat down in front of the computer, indulging his bored interests for another couple of hours with a bit of vapid internet browsing.

As he was laying down, ready to sleep, he shifted. Then squirmed a little. He ran his hands down his body to the disturbance: a rather stiff erection pulling at his boxers. Unexpected, but not cause for alarm. He pushed the sheets back and freed his shaft to the cool air. Then he took hold of it and began to stroke.

A tightness pulled up in the back of his throat and his leg wanted to bend. It was hot and tired and slightly desperate, like needing a cool cup of water to wet your mouth before you slept. But it was deep, deeper than he had expected, and his throat was dry by the time that he felt the sudden rush, exhilaration, and relief, and shame, and then sleep, too tired to keep himself awake.


Wednesday - DAY 1

Arthur yawned widely as he woke up, blinking the sleep from his eyes before pushing himself to his feet. He had been really tired the night before, but now he actually felt—well, not energetic per se, but unlike the first two mornings this week, he hadn't been run over by a truck before trying to get himself out of bed.

He'd never noticed the way his body wash made his fur smell. He'd tended to treat it as 'clean' and not worry about it past that, but it was nice. A faintly metallic smell, but in a spicy way. As he dried himself off and brushed his teeth in the mirror, he braved a smile or two, then made a few faces at himself, feeling good about the way he looked for once. He'd have to try to dry his fur the same way tomorrow, since it had made him look better than usual, apparently.

He left a few buttons of his shirt undone, to leave a tuft of his grayish-rusty timber wolf coat sticking out. His shirts had always been comfortable, but he didn't remember his light blue one fitting so well. It was nice and snug against his pecs and didn't have too much slack around his trim waist.

As he came down the stairs, there were Jenna and Carl, as they always were right before Jenna went to work: practically on top of each other, squeezing and stroking anything within reach, punctuating their heavy petting with the occasional moan. He was pretty sure one of them wanted to try to show off to him. He wasn't sure which one.

The car puttered up to a warm, confident start, and he flicked the radio to play some light rock. The beats bounced along with him and the melodies lit up with the morning light coming across the road. Man, he'd never even noticed how nice the forest along the side of the road looked when there was still a bit of mist in the air.


The more delightful morning he was having came back to gnaw at him as he sat down to work. He was distracted. It had to be that he was feeling good enough that work seemed boring. His pace was kind of slow today, he had to admit. So maybe he could make things a little more fun. If he could still watch movies through the work proxy, then...oh yeah.

He tensed his legs against the chair, and his claws dug down into the soles of his shoes. It had started out just in the little window, but focusing on two things at once was too hard. One click, and now the images filled his whole screen. There were vixens and bunnies and...ohh. His cheeks were hot, the faint motion of his hips making the rolling chair rock slightly. He was...he...

"Someone needs to come to lu-unch," Erica cooed.

Her head poked through the door. His mouth hung half-open, the expression in his eyes like a deer caught in the headlights while masturbating.

"I need to—grab my—lunch," he said.

Arthur pushed the chair back and knelt behind the desk as his cum spilled out onto the carpet in thick splashes. The cleaning staff would get that soon enough. He couldn't stall for long, lest she come in and see what was on his screen. Still faintly dripping, he tugged his underwear and pants back up. He grabbed the sandwich and soda and then stood up.

"Okay! Let's go," he said within a sigh of relief.

He tried to stretch out in the chair while eating and act casual, though his mind almost never left his pants. When it did, it zipped right over to Erica's blouse. The way she wore it made her cleavage seem clearer and the swells of her breasts stand out. She wasn't curling her back or anything, was she?

As Mike stepped in, Arthur's heart started to beat faster and he looked up at the ram immediately. Of course Mike was wearing one of his tight shirts. Each of the tightly packed bulges of his body stood out. He liked showing that he lifted weights every day, and everyone just put up with him because he looked damn good built like that.

"Hey Erica," Mike said.

He flashed a grin her way and sat down close to her, leaning forward a bit to offer a view down his shirt and to block her view of the wolf across the table.

"I heard you mention working out, and I've got a gym membership. Think you wanna come as a guest after work?"

"Oh, well, I think I might," Erica said. A purr crept into her voice.

Erica pushed the sides of her arms against her chest and Mike flexed his biceps a bit. Arthur decided it was time to leave the two of them up to whatever they were doing. What -were- they doing? His eyes glossed over briefly, frozen for just a moment with his hand on the doorknob of his office door. How did he forget? he thought as he slipped back into his office. All of the guys in the department bet on who would get to fuck their flirty cougar of a boss. Mike was trying to muscle in on the piece of kitty pussy that -he- rightfully deserved. Mike better fucking watch out or he was going to fuck both of them.

As he slowly worked his way through each day's records, it felt like those days. Like...the days that it was. No. Okay. It felt like it was taking as long to go through these as the number of days he was working through. And pushing that thought through his mind had taken a couple of seconds more than expected. Whatever, he was feeling bored and still a bit uncomfortable from the lunchtime thing, so that explained it. Five thirty couldn't come fast enough.


"Hey, good-lookin', what's got ya down?" Enzo asked.

The big bull had a big grin to match his big belly, stretching the apron widely and bordered by beefy brawn on all sides. Arthur had always figured that Enzo found keeping himself strong easy, but keeping his hands off his pizza hard.

"Nothing. Just a tough day at work. Started out so well, too," he said, then pursed his lips. "Get me two slices. And a beer. I'll eat in."

He mostly wanted to watch Enzo some more, though having him around for conversation was nice too. Enzo talked warm advice and anecdotes while working the ovens and boxing up pizzas, allowing gazes at his shoulders, his ass, his biceps and pecs... The best Arthur could think of it, the bull looked like a big thick hunk of meat. Sure, Mike was tight and chiseled, but everything from his hooves to his horns was polished and planned. Enzo was just easily big; he didn't need to work at it and the way it came naturally was refreshingly honest. And if he looked down past the big belly, he could every so often see a nice hint of a bulge right—

"Ey loverboy, my face isn't between my legs."

"Whuh? Oh huh, sorry, I was just thinking. I have to get going, but I'll see you," Arthur said.

He laid out a tip with a smile.

"Sure, you been thinking. It's what you've been thinkin' about," the bull said.

Enzo chuckled and waved to him as he left. Plopping down into his car, Arthur felt contently full and refreshed. He was back to a good mood again as he headed back home. He was also quite ready to get out of his uncomfortably tight shirt.


As soon as he was inside his apartment, he shed both his shirt and pants, stretching out his body and briefly looking it over. Not really a match for Mike or Enzo. But he did look good. Just not as good. Ah well, he had a pretty face to work with. That was enough of an advantage. The athletic-looking wolf plopped down in front of the TV, and put on some sit-com. Easy to watch, easy to shut your brain off and just enjoy. By the time it got to an episode he'd seen before, it was time to get some sleep anyway.

Which meant first a trip to the bathroom. Taking the length into his hand, propping himself against the wall, legs trembling, hand moving faster and faster, gripping the bathroom rug with his toes, twisting his back, and then. Ahh. He could hardly get to sleep without his nightly orgasm.

All his preparations for sleep taken care of, he slipped into the bed, stretched himself out, and drifted into an easy sleep.


Thursday - DAY 2

As the blaring of guitar chords pulled him from his sleep, he raised his arms up, yawning widely and letting the radio play as he rose out of bed. Ahh, and his friend was back, sticking out into the air stiffly and demanding attention that he was only too glad to give. And which he was quite good at giving; within barely a minute, he was feeling fresh and ready to shower.

He took handfuls of body wash and slapped them against his pecs, letting out a growl and curling his lips into a grin. He scrubbed along the firm, powerful muscles, then down into the space between them—he had to make sure everywhere was clean, after all, and that meant getting down into all of his muscles and scrubbing at the fur until his whole body held the musky, spicy smell of freshness.

He pouted his thick, dark lip as he stood before the mirror, then grinned broadly, then raised an arm and flexed his muscles while keeping up the grin. God fucking damn, and he wasn't working in modeling? He needed to and stuff. Whatever you needed to start doing modeling. He'd ask someone.

He settled into his comfortable clothes: a soft white cotton shirt (that really was an undershirt, but he didn't wear anything more covering than that most of the year), a thick pair of jeans that was still nicely snug around the groin, and heavy boots. He made a few brief poses in the mirror next to his closet, attempting surly snarls and tough looks, and satisfied with what he saw, he was ready to get off to work.

He could hear the moaning of his downstairs neighbors before he'd even reached the door to his apartment. Carl and Jenna, like usual, grinding up against the door frame, their clothes halfway off as they groped and humped at each other. Arthur took a nice, long look as he came down. Jenna had some fucking great curves. Those hips were perfect handles for doggy-style and her tits were way more than handfuls, even for him. Carl was pretty fucking hot too, ripped and always wearing those 'European' swimsuits. Nah, they weren't European, Carl just liked showing off his package. And he could respect that. The man had one hell of a cock.

As he hopped into his car and turned the key, the engine roared out excitedly, and in a rush of enthusiasm, he stepped on the gas, feeling like he could fuck—er, conquer everything.


But his car didn't quite have that same feeling. Looking out over a crumpled hood and the crushed fender of the car in front of his, Arthur stepped out of his car. A fearsome snarl was on his lips without having to try to act it. The fox in the car in front of him trying to search for his insurance in the glove box was torn from his seat by a powerful arm, and held in the air by a muscle-bound timber wolf.

"You're gonna make me late, you little piece of shit! I should bite your tiny wimp dick off and feed it to you, fuckass!"

Speechless from the wolf's ranting and his feet dangling far from the ground, the fox could only dumbly accept the insurance card thrust into his hand.

"This is your fault, shitbrain cockmonkey. You fix it!"

"But that's not how—" the fox began to say.

But Arthur was already sulking away. He didn't seem like the type the fox wanted to argue insurance law with. The fox just wanted to get the hell away from here.


Cell phone to his ear, Arthur strode down the sidewalk, a frightening scowl still stretched across his face.

"Yeah, hey Erica. Look, I can't come in 'cause some faggot crashed my car," he said.

"Aw, what a shame," she said, her words breathy and drawn out. "I was really looking forward to a meeting with you."

"Yeah, sorry babe. We can do it tomorrow though. Just don't go fucking Mike. He's got, uh. Dick cancer. It's contagious."

"Oh dear! I should stay away. Unless he needs an inspection, mmm."

"I'm serious Erica! See you tomorrow," he said.

Damn it, Mike was probably going to get with that big-titted bitch who bossed them around first. All because dickass cuntcock fucker crashed his car, and now he had to walk back home.

He stepped back through the front door of his apartment building. By now Jenna had left for work. Which meant it was just Carl in the downstairs apartment, wearing one of his swimsuits and exercising by the window so he could be seen from the sidewalk. He'd left the door to his apartment open too. God damn attention whore, Arthur thought, then turned to go upstairs. His eyes glazed over, jaw thickening with a soft crack, his expression losing a measure of intelligence. The crotch of his pants was tugged tighter against the thick package held within. Carl wanted attention? Well...

The door slammed open with a resounding bang. The blue-scaled lizard whipped his head around just in time to see his upstairs neighbor closing in behind him.


That was the only growl that left Arthur's mouth before the ripplingly thick lizard was pushed forward and made to prop himself up against the couch. Arthur's claws left light scrapes along Carl's scales as he swept aside the swimsuit. The warm ache against the cool air only excited Carl further.

With his shaft soon digging deep into Carl's tailhole, Arthur drew their shifting, rippling bodies closer together. His hips rocked slowly. Carl's chest was pressed into the pillows with a regular rhythm. Pleased groans escaped the lizard's mouth. His eyes were fluttering. His whole body was like muscular putty in the wolf's big paws. Paws which were eagerly stroking along his form, to feel the shifting of his lats and the tensing of the muscles along his back.

Carl's blue scales were tinged with purple, like a shy blush, but not shy at all. His shaft hung thick and heavy and dripping beneath him. Arthur could tell that the lizard wanted to roar out his lust. But as his hand clamped down on the cock to stroke it, all that left his partner's mouth was an unsteady groan. Perfect. Give the whore attention, but make sure he knew who was— Unnfg. Nnngh.

A sound somewhere between a snarl and a howl ripped from his throat. It was nothing like anything he'd made before. In the midst of orgasm, his body froze for a moment. Tufts of fur on his chest and under his arms thickened. His brow grew into greater prominence. He grinned slowly. That sound he'd made was the sound of a great orgasm, and he knew it well.

Carl's thick load splashed all over the carpet, but Arthur didn't care much. He'd gotten what he wanted out of the lizard. He gave that blue ass a firm pat, growled something that almost sounded like 'see you', then simply walked out the door. Carl was left panting and gasping, body blazing hot and dripping with wolf cum. Arthur slammed the door shut behind him as he left.


Up in his own apartment, he flicked the TV on for something to watch. He took a few minutes to find a good action movie, one that would keep his blood pumping. Then, he hefted two of his weights into his hands, and began to curl them up to his shoulders. Every five minutes, a beeping from his timer would announce it was time to switch, and he would switch positions with the weights, or lie down on the small bench and lift them as if bench pressing, or start doing squats instead. He moved through the workout in his mind, until just about every muscle in his body was aching. Then a quick set of stretching, and to the fridge for a drink after that.

Aw fuck, he was completely out of beer. Grumbling softly, he swept up his wallet and squeezed it into the pocket of his tight jeans. He was still damp with sweat from working out and unwittingly quite musky, but he was just going to the convenience store. It wasn't like he needed to dress up.

The bell atop the door rang as he pushed his way into the store. His shirt clung to his rising and falling chest and stuck to his back. The wetness was growing slightly cool in the well air-conditioned store. Behind the counter, the doberman clerk was smiling at him, leaning against the cash register slightly in order to push her cleavage further up and out of her snug top. He flashed a polite smile her way as he headed toward the freezers in the back.

Now that was definitely wrong. He knew her. She was a thin, middle-aged woman. She wasn't busty, and she sure as hell had never been built like that. He'd been noticing a lot of strange things, and— His eyes grew unfocused while looking at a bottle of beer. His lower jaw and lip both swelled, bulkier and blockier. A spurt of growth around his torso pulled out his pecs and rippled along his abs, pulling his shirt up enough to reveal light fur between the bottom of the shirt and the top of his pants. Light fur divided by a thick, shaggy line of dark pubic fur.

The clerk was even hotter than he'd remembered. He flashed her a grin as he came up to the counter, setting the two boxes of beer down. She peeled back one of the cardboard flaps to pull out one of the cans. While she scanned it, she returned the grin back at him.

"Pretty thirsty?" she asked.

Arthur nodded and leaned over the counter.

"I get pretty thirsty too. I could really use a drink. You got anything that could help me out?" she asked.

He didn't have much time to respond. He was tugged off his feet, pulled over the counter and behind the back, where no one would see. His jeans were torn aside in seconds. The doberman's hands steadied his body while her lips slid down over his cock. It was fast and eager and impulsive. Shivers and flashes of warmth danced through his body simultaneously. She was drawing him out, draining him dry, and he hadn't even—ahh, there he went. Her cheeks puffed out, but her thirst was greater than he could match. When she pulled back with a deep sigh, his cock was completely clean.

"See you back again soon," she said.


The wolf pushed himself to his feet, tugging his clothes back up. He slipped around the counter. With a box under each arm, he nodded a goodbye to the panting doberman before he left.

After an afternoon of beer-soaked explosions and gunfights, he was growing hungry for something more than just another can from the fridge. He still didn't have much to cook either, so going out was his best option.


"Hey, Enzo. Put a sausage and pepperoni in the oven for me, would ya? Medium," he said.

Arthur settled down into his seat at the pizzeria. Watching the bull's huge gut slosh back and forth was a bit hypnotic, and watching the rest of those bulky, overstuffed bags of beef he called muscles was just as fun. Mmm, fuck the bull was big. He had to spend the half of his day he didn't spend working just constantly working out. Or maybe it was genetic. It made Arthur just a little jealous if that was the case.

The bull popped the cap off a bottle of beer while they waited for the pizza to cook.

"Tell ya what kid, drink that beer an' gimme a good man's burp, and it's on me."

He pushed the bottle to his lips and began to drink. After a few big gulps, he set it down. He probably wasn't going to do it. Enzo was the sort who liked to take it easy, but even the wolf wasn't quite as relaxed as him about things like manners. Then, a low, broad, reverberating belch made its way back up his throat. His tongue thickened, as the muscles of his shoulders and neck tensed, then swelled. Broader, thicker shoulders, a wider, meatier and shorter-looking neck, and a deeper voice greeted him as he came out of the daze in the trail end of his belch.

In the midst of their shared laughter, the door swung open again. A trim lion dressed in a tidy suit walked in, took a seat on one of the stools, and sighed lightly. Arthur could tell the lion had something on his mind, so he reached out, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey man, everything okay?"

The lion rubbed his temples briefly, then looked up at the big timberwolf sitting beside him.

"Yeah, just some trouble with my partner. She's been difficult,, it's not worth talking about, really," he said.

"Y'know, I asked for more pizza than I'm gonna eat. I was going to take it home, but wanna split it?"

The lion looked up with a smile that spoke a fatigued thank you.

"Sure, why not."

As the lion breathed in, the buttons on his shirt strained slightly. Enzo grinned warmly at the newcomer and brought him a beer as well.

"So, what's your name? I'm Enzo, this here's Arthur."

"Alex," he said. "Nice to meet both of you."

"So like I was saying, I had to miss work, cause I couldn't drive. But I got in three extra hours of working out or something. So that was good at least."

"Heh! When there's no one around I'll do push ups or chinups back here," Enzo said. "You work out any?"

Alex grinned sheepishly.

"Well I..."

His mane inched out further, sending a line of fur trailing down the center of his chest. Trim, athletic muscles were taking on a thicker, burlier look. The lion blinked himself back to life, then reached down and slid off his jacket, hanging it on the stool next to him. He loosened his tie with a small tug.

"Yeah, I do. Just have to keep myself looking good for work."

"So, you got a partner?" the wolf asked.

"Yea—oh, for work I mean. That kind of partner. It's not, no, we wouldn't be doing, eh heh heh, no."

The lion's pants were snug against his groin, showing the faint outline of something thick beneath. A button popped from his shirt, and finding that the tie was bothering his neck, he pulled it off and dropped it on top of his coat. He raised the beer bottle to his lips, taking two long gulps, then set it down with a thickening lip and a jaw growing more square.

"Good idea, that sort of stuff causes problems," Arthur said.

He nodded as if he was an expert on that sort of thing.

" you're both from around here?"

That the lion wanted to change the subject was evident. Enzo nodded.

"Yup. He's been comin' in here for years after work," he said, gesturing toward Arthur.

The lion's thickening body fur poked slightly through the gaps between some of the buttons on his shirt. The thickening of his chest was becoming more evident, pulling his shirt from where it was tucked into his pants. Enzo stood up and turned around, pulling open the pizza oven. He reached over and grabbed one of the large wooden spatulas, sliding it into the oven and pulling out the pizza. He slipped it onto a flour-dusted counter. Taking the pizza cutter, he chopped down through the crust, then pulled it across the pie in practiced motions. He slipped the cut pizza onto a platter, and set it between Arthur and Alex.

"Enjoy, boys."

Arthur dug in heartily to his first slice, while Alex let his own cool off before testing it, then starting to eat as well. They could both agree that it was delicious. Alex felt like his shoulders were getting squeezed by the shirt, as were his sides, so he opened it up a bit more. He took off his belt as well, since he was getting relaxed.

"So what do you do for fun? When you're not being...FBI or whatever you are," he asked.

"Well, I like the outdoors. Going hiking, that sorta thing."

"Really? Hey, we got some nice forests right around here. Maybe ya wanna go on a hike with me after this," Arthur suggested.

"Yeah, that might be pretty nice," Alex said.

He flashed a smile the wolf's way. Enzo was looking fairly amused at the men's plans, but didn't say anything, just grinning enigmatically.

Alex's mane had grown bigger and thicker, a much more imposing head of hair, with the same dark color of fur spreading down into a thick tuft atop his chest and a broad patch of fur rising up between his legs. They could both see it because he had stripped off his shirt to flex out his body, as it had 'felt kinda cramped' in his shirt. He likewise kicked off his shoes and peeled off his socks, freeing his larger paws from their tight prison.

Both Arthur and Enzo were giving Alex more stares, since there was something nice to stare at. As the lion gulped down his beer, his abs tensed and rippled slightly, and as he set it down, his chest rose up quickly, sending the muscles bulging and shifting. They both felt more comfortable around Alex, too, as his more shy demeanor took a back seat to good old leonine confidence.

"Hey, uh, Enzo. How 'bout another for the road? We gotta go start our hike," the big lion said.

His dark lip framed a broad, toothy grin as he accepted the bottles from Enzo, and passed one to his other new friend. The thick, handsome lion stood from his seat, his thighs and ass making the fabric of his pants creak.

"Lucky bastard," Enzo muttered, eyes on the two males as they left the restaurant.


Alex had left his pants in the car, choosing to take the hike in only his boxers, since they were far less constraining than his pants had become. Arthur was just glad that he could see every inch of that big bulge stretching out the fabric that tried to contain it.

"Have ya gone hikin' here before?" the lion asked.

"Nah, I'm more of a gym type. Probably should come out here more though, it's pretty fucking picturesque."

"Huh. Uh yeah, I guess so," Alex said.

The lion's thick tongue grazed along his thicker lip. He let out a thick, rumbling belch that brought low chuckles from the wolf, who attempted his own in competition. Then there was a loud snarl, and Arthur was tackled to the ground.

"Yer all so Sorry but I just gotta."

It had taken Alex long enough, he thought. They'd been walking around for fifteen minutes.

His jeans were torn open, and the larger lion was pressing down on top of him. His damp breath blew along the top of his head. His thick mane rubbed against his nose. And then...fuck. He'd known Alex was big, but he hadn't thought he was this big. Hot and tight and squeezing against him, making him tense and ache against that giant shaft.

A large hand pressed against the back of Arthur's head, making him lean back to look up at the lion's squared, heavy, bulky muzzle. And the dark lip quickly pressed against his own in a messy, desperate and aching attempt to bring their bodies even closer. He could feel the rippling of every muscle along the lion's form, and his body was happy to respond in kind.

A big, almost leathery paw wrapped around the wolf's shaft, gripping tightly, squeezing and stroking and moving in skilled yet experimental motions, weighing the thick mass carefully in his hand.

Dirt and leaves crumpled and crushed beneath them, the back-and-forth motions grinding pebbles against his back. The scratches only added to the burning, aching need he felt. And when that need began to boil over, the kiss was broken for a plaintive, lingering howl on the part of the timber wolf, and a terrible, handsome roar from the lion.


Everything dissolved in his recollection afterward. There was more hiking, then something and there were people, and then turning and there was something holding him and shooting and then

He snorted loudly, head bobbing. His eyes blinked at the screen in front of him, showing an alien hissing and roaring. Had he been dreaming about the movie? There was Enzo's, and Alex, and the woods, and...a confusing mush. He flopped back against the armchair. He felt tired and sleepy, as if he'd had a long night. He gripped his shaft with a dull rumble, stroking until his chest was splattered with musky seed. Then he drifted off soundly to dreamless sleep.


Friday - DAY 3

Damn, what tasted good? Oh yeah, that was him. Art licked his lips slowly and pushed himself to his feet, enjoying the taste of his seed in his mouth from last night. His radio was blaring testosterone-pumping guitar riffs in his room, which got him grinning as he crossed over from his living room to his bathroom.

His body wash was formulated to ensure none of the appetizing male musk got washed away, and came in a size usually reserved for bottles of soda. The morning shower was a great time to admire the feel of his bulk, and it was the time for his first load of the day—shot against the shower wall, where cleanup was as easy as standing aside and added to the deliciously manly scent of the steam that filled the room.

Grinning, scowling viciously, looking aloof; there wasn't a way of looking that didn't make him look like a god damn sex bomb. He'd fuck his reflection if he could, but he'd broken a mirror that way once before realizing it didn't work that way.

He tugged on his work clothes in front of the mirror in his room, giving himself another chance to admire the end result of years of heavy work: the massive rippling build he loved so much. And the snug athletic shorts looked great on him too, complementing the timber wolf's coat.

Jenna was fucking her little wimp of a man Carl, like usual when he came down in the morning. the powerful gator had her not-quite-so-powerful lizard mate pinned down and was milking his cock. Art wasn't going to just pass up the opportunity today. Jenna's tail was thrown over his shoulder, and he sandwiched the two of them between the door frame and his massive brick wall of a body. Sure, Jenna could dominate Carl, but she was powerless against Art's force, ramming deep into her ass with a ferocious disregard for any sort of gentleness. His paws clamped down on her breasts tightly, squeezing the nipples and toying with them until they were points of red-hot pleasure. With a rumbling growl, he filled the gator girl with blast after blast of his seed, and triggered a trembling, squirming, tail-twisting orgasm from her.

He was already out the door, though, because he had work to do. He lifted himself up into the seat of his truck. He revved the engine to hear it roar before pulling out of the driveway. A little twist of the wheel was needed to navigate the truck around the gleaming motorcycles Jenna and Carl left in the driveway.


At his office, he stopped to look at a sticky note that had been stuck onto his door.

'wiatn 4 u in brek room -erica'

The grinning wolf spent about two seconds inside the break room before he was slammed up against the door by two thick, polished, curled horns. Mike was snorting and panting, looking at him with a furious expression. His muscles were bristling. His veins were swollen and throbbing.

"You're not gettin' a hand on Erica before me!" the ram grunted.

Art didn't have time to respond, as those horns were coming back for a second blow. Art was ready this time. His hands were held low. His fingers clamped down around the horns. He twisted hard. Mike went spinning with a worrying snap, then tumbled onto the ground at his side. He wasn't dead, he was just now upset and in pain, both feeding into his rage.

He wouldn't get another chance, though. Art was on top of him, grabbing his horns with one hand and pushing his shorts down with the other. The wolf's cock was forced down his throat, his horns used like handles to push and pull him along the shaft. He was gagging and sputtering, but no matter how hard he squirmed or pushed, he was pinned. He had no choice but to take it all.

And soon it all came out, pumped down into his throat, despite his attempts to choke it back. Mike coughed and shuddered, sniffling and drooling. Thickly musky cum was splashing from his mouth, gushing out his nose, leaving him a wet, gagging heap that smelled like dominant wolf.

Now that Mike was taken care of, he could claim Erica next. His boss's door was thrown open as he strode into her office. The cougar, nearly bulging out of her work bikini, quickly threw herself up against the desk. She spread her long and shapely legs, her tongue sliding along her lips as she gave the timber wolf a lustful gaze. All Art had to do was step up to her, and their instincts took over.

It was gritty and natural, growling and biting, a struggle between the two of them, each trying to best the other. It wasn't just about fucking, it was about mating the cougar. That they were different species barely mattered. Their bodies just needed to mate.

His teeth sunk down on her neck. Hers were bared widely in a roar. Their animal need twisted, merged, exploded inside of them, and then reverberated in soothing aftershocks, leaving both feeling immensely pleased. Art left her office panting softly, shorts back up around his waist but still thickly tented. He was definitely getting a raise.

The rest of his day was uneventful, like most days at work. He sat in his chair, nursing his erection, occasionally yowling as a rush of cum refused to be held back and splattered against the floor, other times having a co-worker come in to help him along if they had nothing better to do. Mike wasn't coming into his office today though. Heh, poor fuck probably had enough wolf spunk to last him for a week. Lunch break gave his shaft a chance to recover a bit, while he tore into the meat he'd brought and gulped down the can of beer.


And at last, it was five-thirty. Time for the highlight of his day. His heart was being in big, loud, thundering beats as Art strode into the pizzeria and sat down on a stool that creaked under the weight of his bulk.

"Ey, mister workin' stiff! How's dat job'a yers goin'?" Enzo asked.

The giant bull leaned forward and some of the trays behind the counter clattered as his massive gut squashed into them. He never quite figured out how Enzo managed to squish all that fat in when he stopped working to squeeze out from behind the counter.

"Eh, priddy good. Had ta facefuck Mike today but I might be gettin' a promotion."

"Ha ha, dat's da spirit!" Enzo said.

The bull clapped his hands together, then hefted his huge belly back off the counter, rubbing along it and licking his bulging thick lip.

"Ya gonna pay fer tanight's dinner like usual?"

"You bet, big guy," Art said.

The wolf stepped behind the counter and crouched down, pulling up Enzo's apron. The bull was gigantic, and that extended to every single part of him—the cock that Arthur was nuzzling into stiffness was no exception. Even before it had filled out fully it was going to be a challenge for him to get it into his mouth.

He placed his hands on the bull's legs for support, feeling the gut pressing lightly against his forehead. Enzo was snorting and grunting above him, holding onto the counter. And then he let his mouth slip down over the head of that shaft.

Enzo's hooves threatened to crack the tile. They stomped down on the ground hard, making creaking sounds against the ceramic. The bull was big, but the wolf was good. Art's tongue curled, twisted, wrapped, lapped. His lips tightened, dragging along the tender skin. His throat sucked, hard, dragging along the shaft, dragging the seed from his balls, dragging to suck up the thick bovine musk.

Even better than beer came the thick blasting globs of Enzo's cum, gushing down into his stomach. Art backed off quickly—not that he couldn't take the volume, but he wanted the head of the bull's cock in his mouth, so that he could taste the seed before it splashed down his throat.

"Shit, yer gonna suck it right off some day," Enzo said.

Art rose to his feet, licking up the few drops that dangled from his lip. He sat back down in his seat and let out a few loud belches that set the both of them chuckling until the big pizza was ready, and the two huge males could eat.

"So what happened to dat lion ya ran off with?"

"We went ta the woods, walked around a bit. He fucked me and then I woke up back home. Musta been so good I blacked out."

"Hope he comes back. He was fuckin' hot."

"Hell yeah, maybe we could take him both," Art said, then added, "Or you get'im first, so it's even."

At some point, he knew he'd really have to ask Enzo out some time. It'd be better if he knew somewhere to take him other than his own pizza place though. Or, hey, wasn't there some big match coming up? The big bull was into that kinda stuff, maybe just offering him to come over would work. ...He'd ask next week, once he had time to plan what to say.

"See ya on Monday!" he said.

Art got up from his seat, finishing off the last of his beer.

"Yup, see ya pup," Enzo said.

The bull grinned at him as he stepped out the door and climbed back into his truck.


Art came teetering back into his apartment. He climbed the stairs while listening to the sounds of Carl and Jenna doing whatever weird sex stuff it was young people did today. Once inside and on the way to his big chair, he stopped by his refrigerator to grab another can of beer. The massive wolf flopped down in front of his TV, taking a big sip and turning on the MMA match that was on tonight. As he began his first evening masturbation session with one hand, the other was curling weights from the set he kept by his chair.

He had a pretty comfortable life, he thought. Not great, but not bad. Maybe things were looking up. A promotion possibly on the way and planning on getting back into the dating game. But all in all, everything was comfortable, and he was perfectly fine with that. He was just a normal guy, after all.