While filming a documentary in the forest, wildlife cameraman Dean spots a pack of wolves. He thinks he's lucked out, but when they see, approach and encircle him, he realizes something is wrong. Dean soon finds himself tied up and at the mercy of eight eager werewolves... Warning: for adults only! Contains an explicit reluctant first gay experience with a group of hunky, able-bodied wolf-men. 5100 words.
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It started slowly, the wolf rising onto its back paws, hobbling awkwardly in a most unnatural way, and one that Dean had never before witnessed - or even heard of. He couldn't help but turn his eyes to it. They widened in utter horror as the wolf's fur disappeared as if by magic; the paws transformed into man-like hands and feet; the boney limbs straightened up into perfectly human arms and legs; and the teeth receded, the wolf's face reshaping itself in a grotesque manner into that of a man. Whatever willpower Dean had mustered up to avoid eye contact had vanished in the face of this fantastic occurrence, and he was now staring dumbly into the eyes of the ostensibly human man standing naked before him.
"So..." the man growled, his voice deep and gravelly, "what have we here?" His piercing black eyes scanned Dean up and down, and the faintest hint of a smile appeared on his lips. "What do you think, brothers?"
Dean heard footsteps coming from all around him and realized the other wolves had undergone a similar transformation as the one that he had witnessed. From the corner of his eyes he could see more large, nude men closing in around him.
"He'll do fine," a voice confirmed.
"He'll be perfect."
The first man's smile widened and he gazed into Dean's terrified eyes. "Yes... he'll do fine." Dean followed his hand's movements as it glided over the muscled, toned chest and down to his groin, where the man began to play with his member casually. He didn't have time to take in the full meaning of the words; a blunt hit to the back of his head ensured his unconsciousness.
A relentless, pounding headache was the first thing Dean felt when he came to. He opened his eyes and tried to regain some focus. He found himself naked and on his knees, his arms tied to two tree branches, the rope digging into his wrists. More confused than scared, Dean looked around. It was dark, and a bonfire was dancing some feet away from him, lighting the surrounding forest dimly. Several men were standing in the vicinity, quickly shifting their attention to him once they noticed he had awoken. Dean panicked, suddenly remembering the events that led to his predicament. He shook his arms in a futile attempt to release himself from his binds, but quickly realized it was no use; he was at their mercy.
"What is this?" Dean asked quietly as he watched the men circle him. "What do you want?"
One of them, big and muscular, flashed a wicked grin in response. Dean recognized him as the same man who had first addressed him earlier that day. "We're recruiting," the man said in his husky voice. "You." He stepped forward, holding his massive, erect cock in his hand until it was inches away from Dean's face.
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