In the weeks following her release from the hospital after a bloody encounter with a wolf infected by the lycanthropy virus, Sherri had lived a life of depressed, self-selected seclusion. The doctors who had treated her bite wounds and infection had not barred her from going out, after all, she had simply felt no desire to do so. She had been invited out by concerned friends a few times, and each time she had insisted the issue was her fearing for their safety—or hers. She had been assured her treatments would keep her disease in check, that she was not contagious, that she could go back to her life, but her years-long struggle with anxiety ensured the worst-case scenarios kept presenting themselves. Further, in those first weeks, there had been a sense of reservation—she assumed it was part of her developing lupine instincts—that encouraged her self-imposed exile. Her den was where she was safe and the fact that people kept bringing her food ensured she never had to expend any more energy than necessary.
Her continuing, life-long treatment was two sets of pills, one each in the morning and at night. The first was supposed to keep the werewolf disease from advancing and the other was to treat the unexplained swelling she was still experiencing in her abdomen and between her legs. The effects of both seemed marginal since they brought her no real relief from the symptoms she had felt since day one. They were keeping her lucid, sure, but that only made everything else more intense. Her body was still enveloped in an inescapable heat that made it feel like she was forever sitting outside at twilight in the summertime. She craved mental and physical stimulation but could not muster the will to move. Her growing need for sexual release, in particular, was exhausting.
Then, after four weeks, the night of truth had come. She had been slumped on the couch when the full moon rose above the trees. The pale sphere's illumination had not transformed her; however, the silver light's caress on her skin seemed to ignite a fire within her.
The morning after, her depressive funk had burned away. It was as if she had been dreading becoming a beast. No longer worried about that, she was filled with a burning need to do things—one of which was to satisfy her swelling libido and hunger.
It was not long before her days were spent otherwise occupied as she toyed with herself. With one hand petting her snatch, she tore through her backlog of novels and ordered more. Through orgasm after clit swelling orgasm, she caught up on all the TV she had missed out on due to being out in the sticks for months at a time. Once all of that distraction was exhausted, she turned to online classes and masturbating on camera while wearing a glittery silver Colombina. A Colombina is a mask common at Masquerade balls. It only obscures the area right around one's eyes, leaving the rest of the face revealed. It had curving fingers around the bottom edges, emulating a wolfish face shape, and pointed ears around either temple.
Something about the full moon had kicked her metabolism into high gear as well. When she was not masturbating, she was either eating or working out. Both felt as satisfying as an orgasm—well, almost. Either way, the change was doing wonderful things to her body. Even low-impact workouts had pronounced, near-immediate effects on her mousey frame. She was eating enough food for two people, gorging like she was preparing for the winter or something. Even so, the weight she gained cycled into muscle soon enough. What she found most intriguing was that she would sleep for eight hours once maybe every three days.
To say that things continued like that would be an understatement. The more she came into her own, the more she could feel the wolf stirring inside her. As her needs grew, she could feel her wolfish senses taking over when those desires went unmet.
Two weeks after the moon, and six of being on the pills, her sensitivity and drive had risen off the charts. The caress of clothes flooded her mind with foot-tapping pleasure. On top of that, her clit was now big enough to grip with one hand, and each inch was very sensitive. Her fingers were hardly ever far from the pale fur around her pussy as she lounged, naked, in her apartment for hours at a time. She needed to employ an increasing amount of stimulation to find complete satisfaction. If was only a week after the moon when her fingers simply were no longer enough to satiate her cravings. Just cumming once or twice was not enough anymore either. She had to experience six or even eight orgasms a day now or she could feel the wolf stirring within.
Her cam channel helped with that. They kept sending her bigger and more intense toys to try out and she soon always had something buzzing in both her snatch and asshole. When she was not actively getting off, she was working out, tearing through online courses for tech certifications, or eating enough for five people. Fueled by a diet that had become more than twelve thousand calories a day, her wolf-infused physique had morphed into that of an Olympic-level volleyball player in just twenty-one days. Somehow also taller now than she had been only days ago, her weight hovered around two-thirty-five. She put on weight like crazy with each massive meal, filling out her silhouette with a considerable amount of additional curve which became taut, lean muscle the moment she started working out.
So long as she ate regularly, she looked like a fucking dream, however, if she skipped a meal or two that little bit of curve melted like butter. The first time she let it go long, she looked like a competition-ready bodybuilder in a day and a half. The sudden cut highlighted just how buff she had become. Shocked, she doubled her intake for a couple of days and found herself thickening up like mad, her tummy spreading over thighs that quickly were wider than she could grasp. Her plush body had felt even better to play with, but her further increased drive easily burned that fat.
It had taken some doing, but she had finally struck a delicate balance, fostered by having food delivered to her door on a regular basis. Between Amazon and Grub Hub she was a very satisfied, very buxom apex predator that wanted to fuck like crazy. It was no surprise to her that her needy, powerful body wore out any toy within a few days like a dog with a chew toy. There was a strong possibility she ordered more sex toys than food from Amazon in this last round.
It was just after that delivery this morning, with her pussy and ass both stuffed by new vibrating toys that would have made her blanch a month ago, that she happened to realize she had not taken her anti-lycanthropy pills in nearly a week. She found them on the floor, right next to her pills for the cramps and swelling as she rocked back and forth on her elbows and knees like she was being hammered two lovers at once. Did that mean her towering libido and rapid growth belonged to her lycanthropy and not as a side effect of its treatment? Sherri hardly had time to come to grips with this discovery when she caught the glimmer of something in the bathroom. Turning to glance, she found herself looking at the reflection of the silvery full moon.
Her entire body throbbed in a way it had never before as a head-to-toe orgasm made her clench around the thick toys. Not sure what else to do, she reached for her phone to call for help but grabbed a pillow off the bed instead. Stuffing it between her thick, pulsing thighs, her already gyrating hips moved harder to grind the fat, vibrating dildos buried in her center and ass against it. Her panting became a canine whine. Her reaching hands clutched the covers as she tried to drag herself to the nightstand.
A pulsing sensation was swelling within her, each burst of sensation traveling down her body and into her clit. She could feel it growing even as the rest of her began to transform. Her clutching hands cracked as her digits lengthened. Her nails tore into the blanket and mattress as they became claws. Silky silver fur began to sprout on the backs of her fists that rushed past her wrists and up her arms.
“Siri, Call Br–ah!*–ddd!”
[Calling: Brad, Mobile]
The phone picked up after a ring. “Sherri!” her former co-worker said from the other end of the line. “Uh, it’s great to hear from you. How are –”
"Braaad,“ slurred Sherri, in a hoarse, barely recognizable voice as she tried to talk with a lengthening tongue and teeth while not screaming from sexual bliss. "Please… need help... please…” Come fuck me!
"Sherri?“ He was shouting. "Stay there. I’ll call 911…”
"N-no, come here, don’t call… please… just come help…“
He hung up after that and with that click she felt her mind slipping down into the hum of her toys and the feeling of fur spreading over her skin. Her curled feet cracked as the bones lengthened and reshaped. Her thick muscles began to write as her already elite athleticism was pushed even further. Above all, however, was the sensation of her clit growing, swelling, and becoming something... else. It was pushing into the pillow now, the length of nerves and flesh actually stiff enough to sink into the imitation down. Her paw-like hands dropped from the bed and dug into her carpeted floor as she began to buck violently against her stand-in for a partner. “F-f-f-uuuck! this feels so… so… sooooo go-ahwoodddd!”
Her burgeoning member thickened almost as fast as it lengthened. Within seconds, she surpassed the supposed average size of six inches and was swelling towards eight… Nine! Ten!!
More!! The wolf--no, she was the wolf--craved even more growth.
She felt the toys go crunch as her body clenched harder than ever and a flowing sensation rushed down from her tummy. Her clit felt like it was blowing up even more as a fluid pushed against her from the inside. Her flesh right against her pelvis ballooned outward into a spherical shape. With a peculiar tingle pushing down her newfound pseudopenis, she felt a release coming. Throbbing like mad, her clit-turned-dick erupted into her pillow. She came, again and again, until the swollen, bloated feeling from the last two months faded. Whatever else had changed, she now seemed to have an internal second set of sex organs.
The haze of pleasure was punctured by more burning pain as crack after crack echoed in the room. With staccato pops that left her whining, her jaw jutted out, then the rest of her face flowed forward to form a new muzzle. The greatly intensified smell of her orgasm and her wanting snatch made her stomach gurgle, her alternate sexual components already churning to create yet more thick, milky spunk. Staggering to her feet, she was dimly aware of the toys hitting the floor as another bolt of pain-like-pleasure struck her. With a howl, she lashed out at everything. Her sore claws tore rents in the walls. She gnawed on the bathroom door with aching teeth. Everything was so loud as her ears morphed and slithered up the sides of her head. Her spine writhed as a thick, fluffy tail pushed its way down and out until the tip was brushing her raised heels.
How much further was this going to go? Why did it have to hurt so much?
She knocked more things over as she staggered towards the door. She had to be where Brad could find her. Had to be somewhere to be helped. But... Why? the wolf which was her asked. Why did she need help? Did this situation really warrant assistance? She had not needed help before now as she lost herself in the sensations, how was this any different?
This was… This was who she was now. An alpha–The alpha. She was strong. She was in charge. She towered over everything else around her. Power was coursing through her now. Her restructured feet thumped loudly, her claws click-clacking on the tile of her kitchen. Her muscles buzzed with energy. Her cock was so wonderfully hard. In all of this, something about her rampant sex drive had caused her to grow tits which were cartoonish in size. They were sore as she gripped them in disbelief, but intense pleasure followed from the pressure of her soft paw pads and thick fur. Absurd as they were, they were perfect for an alpha who was the pinnacle of masculine and feminine.
It was then she smelled her old companion. The man who had stood by and let this happen to her. Well, not that she really hated this. If anything, she wanted to share what this felt like…