Prompt of the Month - April 2021

TAGS: Lupine Lycanthropy, Non-Binary, Introspective Narrative (somewhat), Hyper, Growth, Macro, City Macro, Implied Mega Macro, Companionship

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The noise of the party wasn’t exactly shut off when the door closed behind them, but it was muffled enough that their brains could learn to tune it out after a short while. It was quite cold outside; both wolves regretted not bringing anything other than shirts with them, though at least the taller one of the two was usually warm enough by default that this wasn’t an issue. Besides, it was a perfect excuse for them to snuggle up together, even if it was in plain sight of everyone; not like they were strangers to public displays of affection, but they usually didn’t happen when their sizes were… well, not exactly similar, but at least close enough to one another that it didn’t look too out of place. As the smaller half of the couple climbed onto the lap of the other, they still refused to share a single word; words would only spoil what they were experiencing at that moment, ruin something that would soon come crashing down around them thanks to what time of the month it was. Best if they just enjoyed it while it lasted, made those few minutes last an entire eternity, even if they knew that it was naught but an illusion they crafted for their own sake.

As an illusion though, it was a pretty good one, if they were in the mood to toot their own horns. After such a long time together, they’d learned to make the most out of this time, this small slice of existence in between them realizing what was about to happen and the process taking place. It used to be that it hit them straight out of nowhere, constantly catching them blindsided even when they knew it was coming, but with some effort, and plenty of experience in failed containements, they built up a successful repertoire of tricks they employed liberally whenever Sam, sensing that the transformation was creeping up on her, tapped her mate [NAME] on the back and the two of them found the nearest secluded area that they could monopolize. A myriad of relaxation techniques would ensue, designed to stretch out their perception of time and keep their bodies and souls in tune in with one another, such that when the threshold was crossed, and Sam became something else entirely, they could at least be certain she wouldn’t completely lose control. It was a arduous road, and not one taken without falling into plenty of potholes; everyone in town knew about Sam’s condition, and quite a few people had been on the received end of it as well, to the point where her name was present in the city council’s annual budget allocation for the local emergency services. It wasn’t her fault though; hormones had a way of completely rewiring one’s ability to perceive the world, and after the full moon had completed its task, there wouldn’t be a lot left of this version of Sam in there, but a much different beast altogether… and quite literally so, at that.

It was odd, in its own way. Sam was already the kind of person that evoked a more primal response out of anyone who saw her, courtesy of her lycanthropic condition “seeping” into her regular form and enhancing it to the point where it was quite literally impossible not to notice her whenever she was within a hundred yard radius, sometimes more if she bothered to put on airs to make herself noticeable. Be it the fact that she was at least good foot taller than even the biggest people around, close to two in comparison to most others, reaching for seven-foot-six more than easily without the help of any shoes, or maybe the way her body exuded raw power even when she didn’t do anything at all; it was easy to tell that this was a wolfess who could effortlessly pick up anyone she met with a single hand without even thinking about breaking a sweat, and indeed, if anyone dared to try and cross one of her few lines, she was more than happy to demonstrate that her bite was far worse than her practically non-existent bark. In fact, one of her preferred methods for taking care of any “rowdy elements”, as she liked to call them, was to simply pick them up by the scruff of the neck and dunk their heads directly into her cleavage; no matter what anyone’s preference was, it inevitably became impossible to think straight when one was being practically choked by sheer warmth, and eventually even the rowdiest of hooligans either learned to stay quiet in order to get out, or passed out altogether in marshmallow heaven. Actual stimulation was reserved for Zeddi, her mate, though; no one else got to play around with those mounds of hers, and even then only behind locked doors. It was something about how the smaller wolf handled them that made it so… special. She hadn’t always had a bust so massive it covered most of her chest and protruded from either side of it, and though Sam suspected most of it was due to her condition seeping in, surely her mate had something to do with it as well; that was her story, and she was sticking to it.

Zeddi, sadly, lacked the sort of transformative switch that allowed them to turn into something as glorious as Sam’s other form come the full moon, though they were possessed of an almost supernatural ability to commune with the bestial side of their better half, even when emotions ran high and hormones did all of the talking. It wasn’t as if Sam completely lost control whenever the moon shone high over her, but it really was difficult to keep her wits about her when her body ceased being truly hers and became… something else. It was a difficult thing to parse, a thought that she very consciously avoided analyzing; it was best for her if she simply accepted it and paid no mind to what went on behind the curtain, lest she be forced to ask some uncomfortable questions about herself and who she was. Questions that Zeddi would be more than enthusiastic to help her through, in that hopelessly eager way of theirs, when they woke her up early because they spent the whole night browsing through dubious websites in the search for any information that might be useful to them going forward; it was very rarely helpful, at least in a practical sense, but it always made Sam smile to see just how serious her mate was to help with her condition. Never serious enough to push her somewhere she wasn’t yet comfortable being in, but always ready to stand by her side whenever that moment did come.

This extended to the transformative episodes as well, even though Zeddi was especially useless during those. All the poor thing could do was keep talking to her in the hopes that things wouldn’t go completely out of control, but the effect was… somewhat limited. The smaller of the two had convinced themselves that they had some kind of developed ability to get through to Sam in her bestial state, and this was true to some degree, but they also seriously overestimated how deep her thoughts ran whenever she was transformed; it didn’t really matter how many times Zeddi repeated to hear that they were there for her, Sam really just didn’t care about anything other than getting a good fuck. It wasn’t her fault, it wasn’t Zeddi’s fault, it was no one’s fault but biology’s, but that was something that Sam still wasn’t comfortable enough talking about; the idea that she might be little more than a sex fiend when transformed was… not one that she was comfortable contemplating in any way.

“Do you think we’ll ever figure out a way to stop it?” Sam mused, not truly posing the question, “Control it, maybe? So I don’t have to be constantly stressing over weather forecasts.”

She asked that question every full moon. Clouds helped, at least to some degree; it was still up in the air how exactly the transformation itself was triggered, given that she could feel it even while indoors and nowhere near any windows. Yet, it couldn’t purely be based on direct exposure to the moon, because partial changes did occur whenever the moon wasn’t fully visible, making it more than confusing as to what even caused the problem to begin with. Zeddi had learned not to answer this musing masquerading as a question; Sam was mostly speaking to herself there, wistfully wondering what it would be like to live in this hypothetical world where she had some degree of control over when she had to face certain aspects of herself. The wolfess would never deny them… though it’d be a lot easier to process the contrasts if they didn’t impose themselves upon her whether she was ready for them or not.

She sighed; the warmth had begun to fill her. It always started as a tingle, an electrical jolt on the back of her neck, travelling up and down her spine as if a blinking row of lights had gone off to let her know of impending danger. From there, it progressed to an unnatural heat build-up, enough that she became something akin to a space heater, so hot to the touch that Zeddi was already visibly sweating after just a few moments. Then came the shortness of breath; this was the most insidious part of the transformation, as it wasn’t entirely necessary so much as it was her body forcing Sam to start hyperventilating in order to leave her airheaded and unable to think properly, a bit of a trick her physicality played against itself, presumably in order to bring her closer to the sort of animalistic alter-self she needed to be in order to truly appreciate what it was like to live on the other side. Her chest heaved up and down as each breath she took became shorter than the last, speeding up in order to handle the immense oxygen requirements needed to keep her functional, Zeddi trembling on her lap as they anticipated the moment they’d have to bounce off of it if they wanted to keep functional use of their legs. Then, the ripping started.

Sam had once cracked a joke about how she had a sort of “death row” for clothing she particularly despised, and once a month she’d take those pieces out back and put them out of their misery in a glorious, splendorous display of raw power. It was the darkest brand of humour she had on her, but it wasn’t entirely off-base; no clothes could possibly survive her transition to the lycanthropic state, and she couldn’t exactly go places without having clothes on, so whenever that time of the month approached and the couple had to be somewhere, she made sure to wear the worst pieces she had on hand, purely so they could at least have a proper send-off. It also served as a warning for whenever anyone saw her dressed like that: the full moon was coming, and she was going to burst soon enough.

Why exactly they thought going to a party right as the next transformation cycle was due to take place was, frankly, anyone’s guess but theirs; Zeddi and Sam had grown so accustomed to this part of their lives that it could be said they’d grown too accustomed to it, having forgotten that most people didn’t normally deal with the sort of explosive growth spurt that turned Sam from an already-imposing, muscular amazon into a creature of pure primal power, one also possessed of… rather sizeable assets as well. For the smaller wolf though, it was just another part of their month, a regular feature that they just had to plan around, for they had no other choice; what were they going to do, tell the moon to stop circling around the planet? They’d have more luck blowing it up.

Or, perhaps, they had finally reached a point where they were at least semi-consciously comfortable with the notion of doing this in front of other people, rather than it just being an inevitable part of their life; it was hard to really explain, given that so much of their conscious thought process was subsumed by the veritable clouds of pheromones that Sam produced during her transformation, which played merry hell with both their heads until they could no longer truly say they were in control of their own decisions. Zeddi leaving his seat was more instinctive than anything else; he had learned the hard way that unless he wanted to be flattened underneath an enormous rod, he should get out of the way before it emerged, because otherwise he would just keep on holding his better half for the full duration of her change. As for Sam herself, the next stages of her animalistic shift came right after her clothes burst open and turned into a disparate cloud of tatters: as if it weren’t enough that her entire body was throbbing as if being filled by some sort of foot pump, leaving her just slightly bigger every time her form “relaxed” inwards, her curves were being… magnified. That’s the word she chose to use when describing the process to herself; it wasn’t like she was growing bigger as much as her overall shape was being sculpted and reformed in such a way that every inch of it appeared more prominent than it really was, if that made the slightest amount of sense. Most of the actual size came from her frame surging upwards and the rest of her struggling to maintain some semblance of proportionality, but if anyone was asked if they thought her tits or ass were growing in excess of what they should, they’d probably nod along and drool some more; why exactly this happened was still a mystery, but at least it made passers-by too awestruck to really get in the way, so it (sort of) helped.

In the end though, the transformation was far less interested in boosting the size of her bottom, thighs and tits than it was in completely changing the way Sam’s body work, to the point where her pronouns no longer truly applied, at least for the duration of the full moon; such was the plight of lycanthropes everywhere, whose bestial form more often than not refused to synch up to what their regular body was like, seemingly without any sort of pattern or way to predict it. There were plenty of biological females and males whose most private parts didn’t change from one form to another, plenty more where they suffered a complete reversal, and still others that mixed and match in a variety of different proportions; come the full moon and lycanthropes the world over would be turned into a stunningly wide range of forms that were only brought together by their trigger, that big reflective disco ball hanging above their heads, untouchable, yet so close that a few werecreatures always tried to jump high enough to swipe it off the sky every single moment… Sam themselves included, though they’d tried to keep a lid on that particular instinct as of late.

The bench they were sitting on didn’t last long, and neither did the wooden boards that it was resting on, given the sudden increase in weight that Sam’s body underwent: the musculature had begun to set in. From lean and athletic to bulky, powerful, at times oddly disproportionate as the individual muscle groups bulged outwards without consulting the neighboring ones, leaving Sam to be buried underneath an avalanche of muscle mass that very rarely settled properly until the transformation was fully complete. Sam didn’t mind though; it was always heavenly, being able to be buried by their own neckbulk, seeing as the world outside vanished completely as their field-of-view was occupied by their own body, leaving them with naught but the tiniest little sliver of night sky directly above them. They knew that, ultimately, this was just a temporary state; once their body woke up and began redistributing mass, their head would stand proud above a trunk-like neck that would itself look incredibly miniscule compared to those broad shoulders and colossal chest it was standing on, to say nothing of their rock-solid abs, or the legs that could easily crush a steel girder into a thin wafer just with a minor clench. Even their breasts were subsumed by this all-consuming muscle madness, with their mass “setting” in a way that, despite their obviously bloated form and enormous size, it was always hard to tell whether they were still breasts or “merely” extremely enhanced and well-toned pectorals. Certainly didn’t help that they were still milky anyway, but who was really paying attention to details at that point?

This, of course, came prepackaged with a surge in overall height that always left Sam scrambling for any amount of room they could find around them; in that case, the lycanthrope had to quickly crawl out from out of the porch that they and Zeddi had sat at, taking out several support beams in the process. The whole thing collapsed just as Sam’s paws cleared the disaster area, and with them safely in the middle of the backyard, it was no wonder that the sounds of the party had begun to dim and peter out; after all, the transformation was taking place in full view of anyone who bothered to look out the window, and with how loud Sam was being, how unashamedly open they were with their moans, there wasn’t a single person in the party house that wasn’t already looking out at what was happening, or in the process of finding a window to do so. As for Zeddi, the smaller wolf could only carefully approach Sam while keeping a respectful distance, knowing that the biggest change was yet to come; the last time they got greedy and tried to jump onto their mate before their transformation was done, they nearly got jettisoned into low orbit from how explosive the final stages were, and while nothing bad happened on the way down, it wasn’t something they were keen to try again.

Because, despite everything, the immense growth that made Sam easily break through the twenty-foot-tall line, the bulky musculature that made them look like a career bodybuilder with a predilection for steroid abuse, the growling that would make any sane person take several steps back when their fight-or-flight instinct kicked, the lycanthropic shift still hadn’t reached its apex. Sam’s body was mostly in the state that it would be for the rest of the night, but there still remained one thing that had to be made manifest, the one that would truly bring out the beast within the former wolfess: their cock, and the accompanying pair of balls. One might expect them to be large, given the absolutely gigantic werewolf that they were about to be attached to; taking up most of the backyard and looking like what would happen if a muscle fetishist got access to a genetic modification program in real life, one could be forgiven for thinking it would merely be big, rather than colossal, impossibly gigantic rod of turgid, leather-like cockmeat that it truly would become. It was always funny seeing everyone’s first reaction to seeing that beast, especially seeing how quickly it came in, and judging from the way that Sam had unfortunately aimed himself, with his lower body turned firmly towards the party house… well, they better hope that their insurance policy was up to speed, or, failing that, that the luck of the die was with them that night, because Sam’s package was merciless.

One minute, it just didn’t exist, with Sam’s lower lips still perfectly visible as he spread his legs wide and made sure both of his hands worked it over thoroughly. The next, heralded only with the most imperceptible of quivering, perhaps even the shifting of air currents as the universe prepared the area immediately around the giant for what was about to happen, no one in the house could see Sam anymore. There was something in the way, one had to understand, something that to the untrained eye would resemble a solid wall of black fur stretching all the way from the bottom of the ground floor all the way to the roof and beyond, its hirsute surface pushing heavily against the glass on the windows, leaving clearly musk-scented stained on their outer layers… in addition to a few radial cracks as the pressure mounted to a point where the interior of the two-story house wouldn’t be safe from much longer. No one there knew what that wall was, but their primal brains did, the part of them that was happy to make ridiculous inferences based only on their errant thoughts and inexplicable arousal; and indeed, would they to look at it from the outside, they would receive confirmation that the “wall” was, indeed, merely the small section of Sam’s nuts that they could see from inside the house, barely even a tenth of their full girth. The giant werewolf had been pushed backwards by the force of his cumtanks emerging from his body, the structure they slammed into miraculously spared complete destruction by some random act of fate… though not for long, as those nuts didn’t come alone; quite the contrary, in fact.

High above them, already spurting cum at a rate that would put even other lycanthropic breeders to shame, was a cock, if it could even be called that; it seemed to beckon for adjectives and comparisons beyond the purely anatomical, calling for worship from all those who laid eyes upon it, given its almost absurd size. It was very easily bigger than Sam himself was, so much so that the werewolf was barely even a good measuring rod for his own rod; when he eventually managed to get himself back up, the only reason he would ever be able to move at all was his extensive experience at maneuvering himself around his own package, squeezing past his nuts until they were behind his legs in prime dragging position, while he was forced to waddle thanks to his shaft alone being wider than the full width of said legs put together. This was when he even managed to move at all, that is; more often than not, the emergence of a mast that massive was enough to drive Sam into madness, several times to the point where they didn’t even bother getting up at all! Why should they, when they were already in the best possible place they could ever be: knocked flat on their back, paws and legs ready and waiting to rub and knead at their nuts, arms pulling his cock onto his chest so that he could give it an hours-long, very tight hug that would surely leave the whole neighborhood completely flooded. Honestly, it was nothing short of a small miracle that he even had any thoughts beyond self-exploration at all, a true testament to their self-control if nothing else.

Now, however, was Zeddi’s time to shine… or at least do what they always did and hope for the best, if one wasn’t feeling charitable. No matter how many times this happened, no matter how regular and identically the transformation took place, the smaller wolf was always, without fail, left stunned and in complete awe of what they were seeing, having to force their way through their own arousal just to be able to make it through five seconds without immediately experiencing climax. That they were outdoors didn’t really do much for the pheromone concentration either; hell, given the lack of wind, the mind-altering scents had a tendency of congregating all around that perfect sculpture of a woof, enough that Zeddi’s eyes were already half-lidded before they could do anything about it. From there, things progressed like they usually did: the smaller wolf tried their best to climb up the bigger one, failed utterly, and was eventually picked up by the scruff of the neck before being dropped somewhere on the prodigious amounts of chest fluff that Sam now had on full display; it at least gave him something to hold onto when the giant werewolf began the arduous task of getting back up, which usually took the better part of ten or so minutes thanks to all the weight they were carrying between their legs. In between getting their legs in the right position, avoiding any unnecessary squishing and actively ignoring the burning need for stimulation coming in from their loins, Sam’s bestial side looked more like a turtle flipped on its back than the glorious monster that they were, utterly undignified… at least until they found their balance, and everything was turned around in their favour.

Heaving his body upwards was always the best part of the transformation, at least for Sam himself. There was something viscerally satisfying about imposing himself like that on the world, for him to go from lying on his back and somewhat easy to underestimate to his fullest standing height, unmistakably magnificent and beyond anyone’s ability to ignore. If not for the fact that he now had full control over where his cock was pointed and where his balls were resting, then it’d be the rippling, bulging, almost sculpture-like musculature adorning his body, glistening under the moonlight as sweat poured down his frame from the physical exertion of the transformation itself. Barring that, the musk usually took care of whatever stragglers were left behind, though Sam himself preferred not to rely on it too much; it felt like cheating, plus it raised a whole bunch of uncomfortable questions about whether or not the little ones were truly in control of themselves if they had their brains so addled by the scent. A good nudge or two was often more than enough to push them away though, and besides, Sam only had eyes for his little Zeddi; still there, stuck to his chest, holding on for dear life over ten feet above the ground, their face scrunched up as they breathed in the pheromone cloud and tried their best not to succumb to it, bringing a smile to the giant’s face in the process. How small they were, how easy to grab hold of in just one hand, to bring up so they could meet face-to-face and Sam could plant a big, sloppy, tongue-dominate smooch on their entire body, leaving the poor thing covered in saliva from top to bottom; not that they minded, obviously, but it still needed a lot of bathing to get the smell off after the werewolf was done.

But done with what though? Every single month was a different experience, even when he was stuck at home and unable to go on a rampage through the city; no matter how hard him and Zeddi tried to keep the moonlight out, even a fully darkened room wasn’t enough to stop at least some of the transformative process from kicking in, usually leaving Sam about the size of that room, allowing for several hours’ worth of a kind of fun that was normally barred from them for the rest of the month. And every single time was fundamentally different, every time they experimented with something new, be it a different speed, set of positions, toys, whatever else their lust-addled minds came up with; very rarely did Sam get to experience his lycanthropy out there in the open like that, the last time having been a couple of years prior before they even met Zeddi at all, so to suddenly be there, with no plan, no ideas, no anything other than their own arousal and an immense, immeasurably powerful need to satisfy it in some way… well, there was an entire house full of partygoers who were all more than happy to push their faces against the windows in an effort to get a good look at him, so why shouldn’t he make good use of that opportunity? After all, there was plenty of room on his cock and balls for everyone there a few times over, and he was quite sure that the owner of the house itself wouldn’t mind if their little get-together was interrupted by a canine dick the size of a small train plowing right through it; if nothing else, it would be in the spirit of the celebrations, wouldn’t it? To indulge, to let go, to experience life, to a certain extent, without the stuffy reality of consequences and the morning after to worry about; thus, it only made sense that Sam try to spread the love by walking as close as he could without actually piercing the outer walls, carefully placing his hands on the roof as he did so. From there, he had two choices: immediately piston through the structure, or give it a good rubbing first, and given the sort of cheers he heard coming from within, as well as the fact that Zeddi themselves were enthusiastically grinding their whole body against his, then the answer was perfectly clear. Hell, it’d even glaze the whole thing in precum, making it far easier to push through when it came time to do so.

There certainly was no shortage of lubricant either, what with the two nuts he’d spent some time gently squishing behind him being so full by default that Sam found it difficult to even take a step at all without gushing at least a few gallons of the stuff without even noticing it. He couldn’t help it either; his was an existence dedicated wholly to the pursuit of pleasure, to the heightening of sensations, to raw self-indulgence without any concern for what may come afterwards, even if that same attitude had, more than once, landed him in serious trouble for some of the stuff he’d done when under the “spell” of his moonlight-fueled transformation. It was liberating, in an odd sort of way, to not have to worry about the things that he did when he was smaller, when he was the other Sam, the other half of his strange duality whose job it was to try and compromise the existence of these two disparate individuals within her. The smaller wolfess was concerned with matters of the mind; the bigger wolf cared only for those of the body, and not even the complicated ones. No matter how many times Sam told herself that she’d keep her thoughts with her when transforming, he never quite managed to hold onto those complicated strings of correlates and complicated rationalizations, not when his body was so… primal. There was no room for thought there, not when he was a twenty-foot giant with balls nearly as big as he was and a cock that he could hug and have trouble going all the way around; hell, there was barely room in there for more carnal thoughts, what with most of the werewolf’s thought process being dominated entirely by the need to find the nearest willing partner and shove his dick into them in whatever way he could. And with no one around capable of taking it, then the house would just have to do.

Zeddi still tried to dissuade their mate, whenever they remembered that’s what they were supposed to be doing; most of the time though, they were too busy rubbing themselves over a patch of fur the size of their whole body, or just outright sniffing the musk in the air until they were drunk off of it to really do anything else, regardless of how much they insisted they were capable of resisting the allures and charms of their better half. It was a complicated dance that the two of them played, with Zeddi insisting they were crucial in holding back Sam’s most destructive instincts and Sam trying their level best not to bring up the fact that his mate spent most of their time cumming their brains out and screaming for his name. Best not disturb that particular nest of bees unless absolutely necessary, otherwise Zeddi might just grow awkward enough to not put their all into it; they might be small, but they packed an almost supernatural amount of energy into that body of theirs, no matter how fragile it looked, and it wouldn’t be the first time that Sam ran out of energy before their mate did, unlikely as that might seem. Then again, the werewolf had a tendency to overextend and eat into far too much of his stamina whenever he got going, so that probably explained it; could he really be blamed though, when he had a body as glorious as his own? Honestly, it’d be a waste if he didn’t make full use of it as often as he could!

Such were the thoughts that occupied Sam’s mind as he grinded away at one of the house’s outer walls, having to take care not to sink his hands too deeply into the roof, lest he collapse the whole thing like he did with that gymnasium that one time; just enough that he had the right amount of leverage to buck his hips, gradually and slowly, rubbing his colossal shaft over as much of the building as he could, tongue already lolling out with a thick curtain of drool falling from his maw, hot breath rolling out in visible clouds in the cold winter air. It took everything he had not to just speed up and start using that building as his personal stress relief toy, angling his cock in order to properly spear it and then ravage it from within; he knew, deep down, that he’d very much hurt the people inside if he did so, and owed it to them to at least wait until they all evacuated before he tried anything of the sort. Thankfully, the partygoers all got the right idea, though they weren’t exactly pouring out into the street as much as they were trampling over one another to get to the backyard, that they may be the first ones to experience Sam’s brand new body; very few of them had ever seen a lycanthrope of that size up close, and even fewer had been able to actually touch them. None, not a one, had had the privilege of full access to one during a rutting, much less one with a package so massive they could probably get lost on it… or in it, if they were ever so lucky enough.

So they ran. They ran at top speed, hoping to beat everyone else to the nearest piece of man meat that they could get their hands on, regardless of the fact that there was plenty enough to share at least five or so times over; all the little ones could think of, their minds and decision-making processes warped by the thick, all-permeating curtain of musk, was to grab onto some part of Sam and then spend the rest of the night worshipping it to the best of their ability. Anything less would be unacceptable, especially with someone like that colossal werewolf; and it just so happened that this frantic exodus towards their newest object of adoration played wonderfully into Sam’s plans, because as soon as he saw the last few people slamming the back door shut behind them, there was nothing else standing in his way. No stragglers, no lives, no injuries, nothing but his own desire, and that last one was practically shouting in his ear to stop thinking about it and just shove that cock somewhere already; thus, with a non-insignificant amount of effort, Sam slowly stopped himself from grinding against the side of the house, trailing bits of wood as he leaned backwards and began pushing his cock downwards, only stopping when it was perpendicular to the wall he was planning on puncturing. There probably wouldn’t be a house left after he was done, but frankly, Sam was done caring about that; that cock had to go somewhere.

Everyone in the neighborhood heard it when that pillar of thick meat came crashing through two outside and several inner walls, a cacophony of splintered wood, shattered plaster and the unmistakable noise of a structure collapsing in on itself, groaning in pain as it was so thoroughly violated from within. It was little more than a stress relief toy, something for Sam to fuck to his heart’s content even if it had just been a perfectly usable domicile mere seconds earlier. The first thrust alone was enough to get the werewolf giant from one side to another, his back arched forward ever so slightly in order to properly hilt himself as far as he could go; nevermind the fact that he was so big that doing so forced his knot to pop out almost instantly and make short work of whatever was left of the facade serving as entry point, let alone the sheer amount of damage done to the insides of that poor home, which had been reduced to a heap of rubble and debris that only grew more pulverized with each inch of ground it lost to Sam’s cock. As soon as the giant began to pull back in order to give it a second go, there was just no way the house could survive; though some of it was left, mostly on top of the werewolf’s rod and whatever was left of the ground floor and foundation, the majority of it had been thoroughly pulverized, existing only as a fine mist and the occasional heap of trash covered in a thick layer of musky precum. It probably didn’t help that Sam was already in what he considered to be full flow; his pre alone was enough to put most other lycanthropes’ full release to shame, something that he took an inordinate amount of pride on, and also the main reason why he tried to enjoy himself as much as he could before the full climax forced its way through, because once it came…

Thoughts for later. For the time being, the house had been wrecked and he had nothing else to turn his attention towards, so with this display of raw power having satisfied his lust (even if just temporarily), Sam allowed himself to lean back onto the pair of hyperactive cum factories that had not stopped growing ever since he initially transformed, by that point being about twice as tall as he was, several times wider, and stuffed so tightly that even having the werewolf’s full body lying on top of them didn’t do much to change the way they looked. Their surface seemed rigid, almost hard to the touch, but Sam knew better; he knew how soft they truly were, how their skin rumbled, practically vibrated, serving as the most perfect massage chair he could ever ask for. In fact, were it not for Zeddi still being there, firmly attached to his chest fluff still, the werewolf giant might just have spent the rest of his night lying atop his throne of nutflesh, hands busy with a shaft that would only grow bigger as well, until things reached their tipping point and those two cumtanks violently expelled their contents all over the neighborhood, the ones around it, and a significant portion of the suburbs beyond them if the wind was feeling generous. But that night, that night was special, because Zeddi was there, and Sam remembered something about the two of them deciding that they should try a new approach; was this why he had transformed out in public, seemingly without any kind of restraints or means of control, where he could just fuck a house so hard it stopped existing as a single structure? Was this why he had several dozen people stuck to his nuts, trying desperately to climb on top of them, never knowing that their rate of growth made such a thing a fool’s errand? It’d certainly explain a few things, but why exactly the two of them would ever agree on such a thing was beyond him; surely, even Zeddi wouldn’t be so stupid as to think they could control where things went so well that they could avoid disaster? There was a very good reason why Sam avoided public transformations after all.

Well, no better way to find out than to ask. It felt rude to just pluck Zeddi from where they were so comfortably humping a small section of his hirsute chest, but Sam knew that the smaller wolf would understand; weren’t they the ones who insisted that they knew just how to steer the transformative madness in just the right way to keep it from being too destructive? Surely, being deprived of a piece of floof wouldn’t be enough to get them to sulk… even if they did look incredibly upset when they were one again picked up by the scruff of the neck and unceremoniously dumped on top of Sam’s muzzle. It was amazing how little the werewolf noticed that it hadn’t just been his nuts growing, but to someone like him, growing had become such a regular part of his life that it was easy for his brain to tune it out; hence why he didn’t question it when his mate plopped down and could snugly fit on the tip of his nose, absolutely miniscule compared to the absolute titan they claimed to be able to control. Even then, it still took a while for Zeddi to float back down to something resembling reality, and even longer until they were ready to talk properly; once that much was accomplished though, it was clear that the wolf was either incredibly embarrassed at having failed to live up to expectations, or they were trying to pretend like they weren’t still incredibly horny and in need of some kind of stimulation. Probably both, now that Sam thought about it.

“Hey,” the giant murred, trying his best not to be too loud, lest he end up shaking Zeddi’s bones into gelatin, “missed you.”

The smaller wolf took this opportunity to not reply with words, and instead tighten the hug they were already giving their much larger partner’s muzzle, along with a soft smooch for good measure. With the way their eyes were glazed and unfocused, it was clear to Sam that he wouldn’t be able to extract any actual conversation out of his mate; this was… fine though, or at least he assumed it was. Plenty more opportunities to discuss what he had in mind, plus it gave him an opportunity to start playfully (and carefully) running the very tip of one of his claws along Zeddi’s back, providing something akin to a massage with a non-zero chance of missing fur; they liked that though, gave things a bit of an “edge” that they wouldn’t normally have, and as soon as Sam heard the noises coming out of his mate’s throat, he knew he’d hit the sweet spot. He just wished that they could’ve actually talked it out, because there were just so many questions left about why in blazes they decided to let the transformation happen the way that it did that Sam felt slightly embarrassed about it; a new emotion, to be sure, and one that he didn’t remember ever feeling when in his bestial form. Usually it was a mixture of godlike power, unbelievably spiked libido and a thirst for physical stimulation that couldn’t be quenched no matter how much of anything was thrown at him, but now that he looked back at the crowd trying and failing to climb onto his nuts, his cock rising upwards towards the clouds and even his own body becoming ever increasingly larger… it just didn’t feel the same without Zeddi there to walk beside him, maybe even in a form as massive as his own. He’d considered sharing his condition with them, but the smaller wolf had always rejected the offer, stating (with some truth to it) that if the two of them were to indulge one another, then whole cities would end up flattened every month.

This wasn’t exactly wrong, though in his current state, Sam couldn’t really find any reason why that would be a bad thing; surely, if they would ever want anything at all, it’d be the ability to completely destroy vast swaths of the landscape with their passion, their utmost devotion to one another, no? What better way to show off how much they adored one another than to let the whole world see their mutual love, in its rawest, purest form? And yet, there was something in the werewolf that told him that this wasn’t as easy as he’d like to believe it was, the same voice that tried to remind him of the things that he constantly forgot about: himself, as the other Sam. Herself. The wolfess, the smaller, and yet still so terrifyingly imposing amazon who had met Zeddi in that bar a couple of years prior and ended up spending a night of ardent passion with them, only to wake up with them carrying a plate of delicious pancakes and some juice for breakfast, when she’d expected the whole thing to be a one-night stand and nothing else. It was such a cheesy, ridiculously sappy moment, and yet she couldn’t deny that it was more than anyone else had ever done for her in such a situation, and from there things just… got going. And they were far different things than what Sam was usually accustomed to: more going wild every month in the constant search for new and heightened sensations, because she had Zeddi there; no more trying to convince herself that having a lustful rampage whenever the moon was full was just a necessary part of her life, when she had the wolf there to warm her bed, warm her side, warm her heart. It left Sam, this Sam, the hulking brute with nuts too big for him to even carry and a body so massive he could probably flatten a cargo freighter without even breaking a sweat, wondering if this unending need for more that his bestial self felt wasn’t some kind of residual effect.

After all, it only happened once a month, and the other Sam made sure not to think too much about what her animalistic side might be doing at any given time inside of her. She’d had two years or so to reconsider her approach to life, to learn how to live in a completely different way now that she had Zeddi there with her, now that the two of them could help fill the gaps they didn’t even know they had; comparatively, this Sam, the giant werewolf Sam, had barely had a month’s worth of full moons in order to mull it over, most of which was time spent going just as mad with lust as he usually did. And yet, over the course of those two years he’d spent with his better half, even he couldn’t deny that something had changed; no longer did he immediately begin upturning vehicles and loudly calling out for whatever lycanthrope might be nearest, nor did he grind against the ground until whole sections of road were utterly collapsed… and not because he couldn’t either. There was something about being stuck inside during the transformations that had stunted his ability to process them properly, and now that he was out here in the great wide outdoors, now that his initial need for sexual satisfaction had been fulfilled thanks to the oh-so-convenient house located so close to his transformation site… what was left? Himself, Zeddi on him, and a physical form that was too big for the two of them to be truly intimate with one another, which was all he really wanted. Anyone with his condition could wreck houses with their dicks, but it took a truly special bond, just like the one he shared with the smaller wolf, for there to be true bliss; not just carnal self-indulgence, but happiness. He wanted a domestic life with that cute little fucker; why did he have to be so big?

And yet, despite all this, Zeddi was still just as eager to snuggle up as they always were, at least once the lust cleared out of their system and they returned to a more cognizant state. They couldn’t be blamed for initially faltering, as after all, even Sam himself had his little moment where he utterly destroyed an entire house by plowing through it with his cock, and even now he had to contend with his nuts constantly filling up thanks to him choosing not to empty them out all over the neighborhood like he usually did. It’d be unfair to judge Zeddi for failing to resist something that he himself completely crumbled before as well; what mattered is that now, after the two of them had their own time in order to get everything out of their system, they were properly together, rather than simply physically close to one another… and honestly, was that not enough? Why should they want for anything else other than one another’s presence when it was everything they could ever possibly desire? Hell, just as Sam tried to focus on the tiny little thing on his muzzle, wondering to himself if they could even see his smile, so too did Zeddi do his best to look up at the absolute giant that was his mate; they had only seen them like this a couple of times before, before the two of them got together and found they quite enjoyed experiencing full moon behind closed windows, but never before had Sam ever gotten that big. Huge enough to crush houses underfoot with very little difficulty, sure, but never to the degree where he could literally house an entire suburb on a single cumtank and still have most of its surface area to spare; never so much cockmeat that it blocked out the very moonlight, leaving the two of them in a warm, musk-scented shade. Never with their production so rampant and uncontrolled that the only thing they could hear was the churning of cum and the sloshing of countless thousands of gallons of thick spunk, yearning to be released in the most climactic, explosive orgasm possible. It was obvious, from the way things were going, that the calm look on Sam’s face was nothing more than a facade, a fiction cooked up by the giant werewolf purely to help keep their much smaller mate from panicking at the prospect of the biggest climax yet… which did very little, considering all the evidence surrounding that tiny smile that Sam’s body was not built for that sort of self-denial.

It hadn’t even been ten minutes since he last vented some of that pressure and already he could be seen beyond the horizon. For Sam, the experience was hard to describe, as while he was fully aware of what his body was trying to tell him, he nonetheless insisted to himself that he wasn’t going to give in to his more animalistic desires; not that time, not that night, not with Zeddi there in front of him and reminding him of all the wonderful times they had in their time together. This was an experience of intimacy, not just sexual release, and by the heavens above, Sam was going to treat it like one, damn the consequences or basic, observable reality; so what if he felt like he was about to pop from the pressure, or that his eardrums were already aching from the noise created by that wall of rumbling nutflesh that threatened to engulf his entire body if he didn’t do something about it? He had Zeddi there, and that should be enough. It wasn’t, but it should be… and that much left him feeling so conflicted that he really just didn’t know what to do. He loved them, that much was a certainty, and they loved him just as much, so why was it that their mutual companionship wasn’t enough? Why was it that, despite everything, despite having fully transformed, having used his body the way it was supposed to and now having decided to spend some quality time with his better half, it still left him feeling… unsatisfied? It couldn’t be that the two of them weren’t meant to be, that much was a thought too painful for Sam to process, but he also refused to accept that his transformed body had a mind of its own, demanding sustenance in the form of complete submission to his hormonal needs. It raised far too many questions that he didn’t want answered, questions that became more and more prominent the longer he refused to pose them; as far as Sam cared, Zeddi being there should be enough, so that’s exactly how he was going to treat things.

In sharp contrast, the smaller wolf, being fully aware of what was going through their partner’s head, suddenly found themselves in an untenable position. They couldn’t really give Sam what they needed in order to understand that it was perfectly fine to succumb to pleasure every once in a while (in fact, did they not do that once a month already, albeit in far more controlled circumstances?), but given the size disparity and the ambient noise, they couldn’t shout at him that he was being a silly idiot about it either. They could wave their arms around, hoping to maybe catch Sam’s attention, but what then? Neither of them knew sign language, and with the wall of nutflesh encroaching from behind him, Sam’s ears were already starting to be muffled by his own body anyway, taking away that option completely. The noose was tightening in front of Zeddi’s eyes, and as they looked around to realize that they couldn’t even see their surroundings anymore, just an endless supply of werewolf, werewolf cock and werewolf nuts, they felt like shouting in frustration. Why was Sam like this? He knew full well that their smaller mate was perfectly fine with him letting loose, as long as it didn’t cause too much damage to his surroundings; by denying himself like that, Sam was doing far worse for everyone else than if he just kept grinding against what amounted to the party house’s rubble, and all for this odd notion that their company should be enough to satisfy him. Oh, the giant had been through that scenario in his head so many times that even Zeddi knew exactly the way it went, and despite their best efforts, the smaller wolf could never quite get through to him or her; every single time, this endless worry resulted in the lycanthrope going down a stubbornness spiral that inevitably claimed at least one piece of upholstery before they came back to their senses. Suddenly, deciding to have that month’s transformation out in the open, where Sam could fully bathe in moonlight, didn’t seem like such a good idea anymore.

But what to do? The options available to Zeddi were limited, even more so as the clock inexorably advanced onwards and the giant werewolf’s size only got worse, up until Sam’s eyes grew increasingly half-lidded, heralding their inevitable descent into lust-fuelled madness. If Zeddi wanted to have some semblance of control over what happened, they had to do something now… though what? What could they possibly do that would help them take charge of the situation? Sam was an absolute titan and they were just a tiny little runt by comparison; plus, it wasn’t as if they could rely on lycanthropic powers of their own.

Yet.

The idea flashed by their mind as quickly as it tried to run away from it, right before Zeddi yanked it back to the forefront of their consciousness; it wouldn’t get away that easily, not when all other scenarios had been run out and their respective pros and cons ceased being a meaningful factor altogether. Of all times, this one was the only one where the wolf could see themselves accepting the gift-curse of lycanthropy, if only because they knew for a fact that, if not for them, then no one would be able to withstand the absolutely monstrous torrent of horny energy that was sure to be unleashed upon the world the moment Sam grew big enough to overpower their increasingly fragile sense of self. And, to be fair, at the point that the giant werewolf was at, would it really be that much more damaging to everything around them if there were two of them running around? Considering the sort of control that Zeddi could exercise if they were big enough… if, of course, they managed to hold onto their own sanity, rather than losing it completely upon their first transformation. They’d be lying if they said they thought their chances were anything but marginal and slim, but what else was there? What other option did they have, now that all others had been exhausted, now that their body was smaller than Sam’s nose, and the ground was so far down that Zeddi had to try exceptionally hard not to look back in order to keep a serious case of vertigo from paralyzing them completely. Ultimately, the only thing keeping them from diving headfirst into the whole thing was the underlying fear that, come the next full moon, the two of them would be unable to control themselves, even if they locked their bedroom door and waited inside for night to pass… but, at the same time, was it not time for them to move forward as a couple? Why was Zeddi so scared about the possibility that they would suddenly become dysfunctional? Their libidos were already the stuff of legend, and their furniture repair and replacement budget was proof positive of that; worrying about a hypothetical future where they’d be unable to hold back was a concept that grew thinner and weaker the more Zeddi gave it any amount of thought, because frankly, they already failed to control themselves every time the full moon came knocking. It just so happened that they did so behind closed doors where no one could see them, rather than out in the open like that.

How silly of them, to think that turning into a werewolf themselves would make anything be different. Perhaps this was the biggest mistake of them all, to assume that the initial reason for refusing the transformation back when the two of them first got together even remotely held up after spending so long exploring one another’s sexuality to such a point where structural damage to their bed was an expected part of their monthly monster madness. Hell, considering the amount of scratches on their bedroom’s ceiling, there really wasn’t a lot that had escaped their passion, making any concerns about damage to their house a moot point by default; so what were they even waiting for?

It was going to be difficult to reach Sam’s teeth, seeing as the giant werewolf’s head alone was about the size of a small skyscraper and only becoming bigger, but Zeddi knew that they had to try anyway. A bite was impossible at that point, but the whole point of one was to get the lycanthrope’s saliva into the “victim’s” bloodstream, and that much was easily accomplished by the smaller wolf slightly cutting themselves and letting the copious amounts of drool cascading down onto the ground run over the wound. Once that was done, then the transformation could begin, and after a few minutes, they would be… well, not as big, but certainly big enough to actually matter rather than the speck of dust they were at that moment. It was still a gamble, and a highly risky one at that, and there was absolutely no guarantee that it would do anything other than make things worse. But they had to try anyway.

For Sam.