|The Transformation Story Archive||Horses and Doggies and Cats, Oh my...|
The man was tired; though he was young and fit he had been walking since early morning across difficult terrain, and now, as the shadows began to lengthen, he knew he should seek out somewhere to spend the night. Slowly, he descended the side of the valley, and, pushing his way through the forest undergrowth, found himself on the shingly beach alongside a small, swiftly flowing river. This, he thought, would be an ideal place to camp.
He unbuckled his heavy back-pack, and dropped it down against a large rock, then stretched, feeling the tension ease in his aching muscles. A swim, he thought, would wash away the sweat and dust of the trail, and help him relax.
Quickly, he unlaced his boots, pulled them off, and stood them next to his pack. Then, standing up, he pulled off his T-shirt, and dropped his shorts. He stood naked at the river's edge, and looked down at his body, watching the evening sun highlight the muscles of his thighs, the fine blond hair of his belly, and the coarser, slightly darker hair of his chest and groin. He took his penis between his thumb and forefinger, pulled it outwards and upwards, then retracted his foreskin fully, revealing the dark, sensitive head beneath. Smiling, he urinated freely on to the coarse gravel, aiming the stream upwards in a golden arc. "Just marking my territory", he thought to himself.
Standing there naked, he felt the warm evening breeze blowing softly over his body, ruffling his blond hair; he felt wonderfully excited, and in touch with the natural world. This, he thought, was surely the way a man was meant to feel; proud of his body, free to move naturally, unencumbered with restrictive clothing, guilt, and other human-things.
Taking care not to tread on any sharp rocks, he walked slowly down to the edge of the river, crouched down, and put his hand into the swirling water. It was cold, real cold; he remembered the glacier he had crossed the previous day, and imagined that this river must be fed partly by glacial melt-water. His swim, he decided, would have to be brief; he did not want to get chilled.
Standing, he began to wade slowly into the water, feeling it swirl round his feet, his calves, his thighs. He shuddered as the icy water chilled his balls, yet somehow he found the sensation strangely arousing. Wading deeper, he began to splash the water over his torso, washing away the day's accumulated dust and sweat. Though so cold, it felt good to freshen up this way; far better than a shower could ever be.
Wading out into the centre of the river, where the flow was strongest, he turned to face upstream. With the water lapping up around his shoulders, he ducked down, submerging his head below the foaming torrent, then rising, shaking the water from his hair, blowing it from his mouth and nostrils. Several times he repeated this, then, feeling refreshed, he began to wade slowly upstream, until he came to a series of small rapids.
Unable to climb through the rocky rapids, the man walked into the shallower, slower moving water at the side of the river. Still knee-deep in water, he looked down, and smiled to see his state of arousal. Climbing out on to a nearby smooth rock, he sat, watching the water draining from his body trace dark lines across the grey stone. Slipping his hand between his legs, he played absent-mindedly with his erection for some minutes, but somehow felt something was missing; there was no real pleasure to be gained from what he was doing. Standing once again, he slicked the remaining water from his body with his hands, then walked slowly back to where he had left his backpack and, still enjoying the freedom of being naked, unpacked his cooking utensils and food.
Scouting along the riverside, he rapidly collected a pile of dead dry wood, and soon had a small fire burning to cook by. In the twilight, he boiled coffee and stirred up a corned beef hash, then, as the fire burned itself out, the man decided to bed down for the night.
It was warm, so though he had packed a sleeping-bag and foam mat, he did not climb inside the bag, but instead spread it out and lay naked on top of it, using his pack as a pillow. Tonight he would sleep naked under the stars. With his arms folded behind his head, he spread his legs, feeling the wind caressing his body, staring up at the distant stars and watching the moon shining clearly through the summer sky. In this open, relaxed, yet vulnerable position, he felt totally at peace with the world, and quickly drifted off to sleep.
He awoke with a start, aware that he was not alone in the forest. Strange, he thought; there should be no humans within forty miles of him. Sitting up and looking round, he could see nothing, despite the bright moonlight illuminating the forest, yet he could sense something out there. At first he felt fear, yet, as he gazed across the river, his fear faded away, and he became aware of another, altogether different feeling; whatever was out there meant him no harm; whatever it was seemed to be calling to him in a way he had never experienced before.
A noise behind him made him turn round quickly, and was startled to see a pair of glowing, yellow eyes looking at him out of the shadows. Slowly, the wolf moved out from behind its' bush, and stood for a moment in the moonlight, silvery fur glistening. The man was seized again by a brief fear; distant folk memories of big bad wolves filled his mind for a second, yet as he looked at this wolf, all his fears vanished. Those glowing, amber eyes were somehow strangely familiar, yet the man could not place where he had seen them before. Maybe in a dream, he thought, as the wolf raised its' head and began to approach him.
Briefly, it paused, sniffed at a rock, moved forwards slightly, and lifted its' leg. As it did so, the man realised that the 'rock' the wolf was now so enthusiastically scent-marking was no rock, it was his back-pack.
"Hey! Get away from that!" the man shouted, but as he did so, he felt a curious sense of remorse and shame at breaking the silence of the forest. The wolf looked up, slightly startled, and fixed the man with his deep, amber gaze. The man shuddered as, somewhere within him, something strange stirred.
The wolf padded slowly over to the man, now standing, and stopped a few feet away from him to sniff the air. The man caught a brief scent of the wolf's body, and again he shuddered as it brought back a curious memory of something, something long forgotten yet strangely familiar. Closer came the wolf, and, to the man's surprise, it began to nuzzle and press itself against his legs. He thrilled to the softness of its' fur, and the gentleness with which it explored his groin, its' cold, damp nose brushing against the head of the man's rapidly erecting penis.
Minutes passed, the wolf's nuzzling became more insistent, then he paused, and looked up at the man. Looking down into those deep, amber eyes, the man knew precisely what the wolf wanted, and his arousal showed only too clearly that the man wanted it too. He knelt down, placing his hands flat on the ground, raised his rump, looked round at the wolf and smiled. The wolf gave the man's face a nuzzle, a gentle lick, then circled, and the man felt the wolf's hot breath against his buttocks.
Looking up at the moon, the man noticed something strange; a curious dark crescent had begun to invade the silvery circle of the full moon. Then the man remembered - tonight was the night of the eclipse.
His mind was called back to reality by the wolf's muzzle being thrust between his legs, then he felt the furry weight of the wolf's chest pressing against his back as the wolf mounted him. Strong, muscular forepaws grasped the man firmly round the waist as the wolf pulled himself into position, then he began a series of insistent but gentle thrusts. The man felt the soft fur of the wolf's sheath brushing between his legs, then felt something warm and moist. With one hand he gently guided the wolf's penis, all the time wondering just what it would feel like to have it inside him.
He had taken many men in this way before, but this was different; this would be a new experience. Gently, ever so gently, the wolf's thrusts continued, and after some seconds the man felt the wolf moving within him, probing, sliding, entering deeper and deeper, swelling second by second. It felt wierd, yet also so natural and fulfilling, not like any lovemaking he had previously experienced. The man let out a grunt as the wolf pushed in deeper, and a strange, knowing smile crept across his face. The wolf was now lying with his head resting on the back of the man's neck, the man feeling the wolf's breath, feeling him move and squirm and wriggle with pleasure, as rapidly the moonlight began to fade.
A chill wind blew through the forest, ruffling the wolf's fur, but neither the wolf nor the man felt cold; they were now united in the warmth of their passion, a union which could only be broken once the wolf was satisfied. The man realised that he was sharing in a special act; this was something far more unique than just sex, it was something he would experience only once in his lifetime.
He turned his head, and, in the dying moonlight, looked deep into the wolf's eyes, where he saw something so deep, so profound, yet so familiar it brought tears to his eyes. There, in the total darkness of the forest, he felt the wolf's entire body tense itself, and begin to pulse and tremble. Deep inside, the man felt something change, and as the wolf let out a series of low moans, the man felt a curious yet familiar hot sensation within. He felt his skin starting to creep, and a burning sensation spreading through his bones and muscles, all the while growing in intensity.
He felt his face starting to change shape, his jaws elongating into a muzzle, his ears lengthening, his arms and legs distorting, claws growing. He felt a tail begin to sprout where none had been before, and, between his legs, a fur-covered sheath, within which he felt his maleness starting to stiffen rapidly. He could also tell that, behind him, the wolf too was changing. Fur was falling away, hands and feet growing where paws had once been, muzzle and teeth changing form in the darkness.
At the peak of the wolf's pleasure, the man too was seized by an uncontrollable wave of ecstasy; deep within the base of his sheath he felt a pulsating, throbbing sensation begin, then his insides seemed at once to tremble; to melt, to flow and rush out of him, as if his body was expelling the last vestiges of his humanity. There in the pitch darkness, the man opened his mouth, intending to let out an ecstatic moan, but instead what came out was a howl.
As the moonlight once again began to flood back through the forest, the man withdrew, dismounted from the wolf, and lay, breathing heavily, on his back. The wolf arched his back, took a few paces forward, circled, and sniffed at a small glistening pool on the ground. He raised his head, gave a strange, low squeaky whimper, slowly walked over to where the man lay, and sniffed at his groin. Then the wolf rolled onto his side, and rubbed his head against the man's hairy chest. The man who had been a wolf embraced the man who had become a wolf, hugging him tight, holding him close, smelling the warm, familiar fragrance of his fur, feeling his rapid heartbeat within. Gazing into the man's eyes, the wolf gave a knowing smile, as he saw the amber eyes of another wolf looking back at him.
Eclipse copyright 1996 by MegaDog.
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