You are running in a forest, you have no idea what is persuing you, but it's big and hairy and tore your tent to shreds to get to you. Your arm aches, the creature had taken a good bite at you and you were lucky enough to escape with your arm intact.
Now stumbling over roots and rocks, arms wheeling infront of you, breath painful and raw. You try to find civilization, some means of escape.
You break out into the open to find a playground, the playground contains a slide, a jungle gym, and a few rocking horses.
You begin to stumble when you hit the rocks and fall almost face first, you roll onto your back to defend yourself from the rumbling monster behind you, only to see someone spring out infront of you and smash the creature's muzzle with the butt of his gun.
The man is tall, must be 6 feet tall at least, thin, with messy blonde hair.
He spares no time to yell at you in a thick brooklyn accent to find cover in the jungle gym, it's quite a good idea, the holes in it are small enough for you to fit through but not the monster.
The man and the beast are locked in combat, and to your amazement the man seems to have the upper hand: He dodges and fires bullets with precise accuracy, excellent time, managing to sock it right in the nose whenever it gets too close.
With one well aimed bullet, that gleamed so very brightly in the moonlight the creature fell to the dirt immediately.
You are so relieved, you aren't sure if you want to run, stay put or perhaps follow the man who just saved you. But to slate your curiosity the man already seems to be headed your way. To your utter shock the man's face comes into view: sunken mismatched eyes, dark lips, and stitches stringing together puckered slits at the corners of his mouth. His expression turns sour once he sees the fear in your eyes, "Yeah, yeah I ain't pretty I get it." He snarles reaching into the bars. You instinctively shimmie away, which pisses him off more.
"Listen sunshine I have to take ya, there is no way 'round it!"
Its a few more moments of silence, you glance behind him to make sure the monster is dead before reluctantly allowing him to pull you back through the bars to his side. You want to ask him if he's dead, like a zombie, but something already tells you that would put you far beyond his bad side.
You walk in silence for a good fifteen minutes before you reach a wishing well. He leans over it to look into it, then turns to face you, "Alright. Go foah it." He gestures with a quick nod in the direction of the well.
ABSURD! You immediately shake your head, you sure as hell are not going to leap into a well because some mystery monster guy wants you to. Even if he saved your life.
The man sighs, heaving his shoulders and offers you his hand once more. With mixed feelings you reach for his hand and take it. He immediately pulls you abreast and jumps into the well.
The entire gravity seems to flip and you feel yourself get almost giddy, like those times in an elevator, when it stops and you feel yourself float upward a bit.
The man pulls you and him out of the well and into a world that seems normal aside from the sky being eerily red, and being surrounded by monsters. You involuntarily cling to his brown jacket in fear of your surroundings.
He speaks up, "Listen, you're gonna be changin soon, so I want'cha to calm down. I'll take ya t' my place if it'll make your time here a little easier. I'll showya around fer a bit and then yer on your own from that point on, got it?" he pats your head almost obligatory and forced.
You aren't sure what he means by 'change soon', that bothers you so immensely but before you can shoot him a question, he's tugging you in the direction of a shabby apartment complex.
Once up into his room he quickly shuts the door, he seems releaved that no one saw you two. "Jokers must be out..." He mutters.
He begins to remove his jacket followed by his dress shirt, stretching he tosses them onto hooks and reclines on a couch to watch TV. You feel a little out of place, perhaps a little snubbed by his disinterest in you.
You feel itchy and at unease with yourself, you pass it off as your worry, but approach the man, to ask a question.
His miscolored eyes snap focuss onto you as soon as you take one step, he studies you from his couch, "Yes?..." he finally asks.
"What... Do I do...?" you ask foolishly since you are comepletely lost, down a well, in a shabby apartment building with an undead stranger, who... In the faulty lighting was looking rather attractive sprawled on his couch. You take a step back at the thought, a little disgusted with yourself for considering a stranger attractive especially given the situation.
"Well, not much, but I s'ppose in the meantime I can offer ya a drink," he gestures to his kitchen which is stocked rather chaotically with hotdog buns and bottles of whiskey and a few other drinks.
In responce you stand itching your arm absentmindedly staring into the kitchen before you remember you should be bleeding still. Your eyes snap down to see a large scar on your arm but nothing else. This alarms you and you let out a ghasp. To which the man only rolls his eyes.
You point to your arm with an airy whimper, he waves his hand to you to calm yourself, "T'be expected in your situat'n. Now howsabout you fetch us some booze and we can talk things out a little easier?"
You suppose drinking isn't the worst thing to do, especially if you're promised some explanations.
You join him on the couch, that is after he lets you have some room, with a bottle and two glasses. You figured he liked Whiskey the most out of the drinks, but all he comments on is the price of what you picked up, "Expensive tastes?" You wonder if you should fetch a different one but he seems to have already taken the bottle and began to pour.
The two of you exchange casual explanations of who you are. He explains that his name is Frankie and that he is in fact an undead man who is a bounty hunter. It sounds rather impressive, you want to learn more about this mysterious man's life. His name seems a little lack luster, in fact a little typical since he's covered in stitches, but everytime he feels you looking at them he sheepishly buckles downward or places his hand over them. You feel sorry that your eyes wander all over him, he just piques your interest so much right now.
After the two of you polish off the remainder of the liquor he reclines on the couch while you seem to have gotten a little giddy, a tad tipsy. You giggle a bit commenting on how hot he looks. He raises an eyebrow as you realize in horror of what your drunken self just blurted. Frankie smirks and comments on how drunk you must be to find him even remotely attractive.
But now, even in your state you can see his eyes travelling to you, looking you up and down. perhaps considering you attractive. You shyly giggle when he realizes you're watching him look at you. He bites his black bottom lip, perhaps if he had faster rushing blood then he would have turned red in the face. "Hey uh... I know you're kinda drunk, you wanna, sleep in my bed? I'll take the couch, I don't sleep anyway."
You nod slowly and head into his room with him as he shows you to the bed; it's neat and doesn't seem to be used much if at all.
He sighs before shifting a glance toward you, "And uh... You're gonna start changin soon, don't be afraid to come see me if ya get scared."
With that he leaves you to the room. Confused, in a daze, you still don't fully understand. Perhaps if you hadn't gotten drunk so fast you could have stayed up long enough for him to explain. But for the time being you gingerly pull the sheets down and shimmie under them ready for rest to take you.
The middle of the night awakens you, you hear the TV in the other room, the world is fuzzy and blurred around you, you draw your hands up to cup your head. You feel your nails pass into your hair, long, much longer than before. Everything is warm, so warm, perhaps even hot; you kick off the sheets when suddenly you're hit with a surge of pain.
You don't get much time to think before your eyes fall to your feet as they lengthen, toenails jutting from your fattening toes, four toes travel further away from your big toe, and it seems to be much smaller than the engorging other toes. You panic, throwing yourself off the bed trying to scramble for the door, but you lose your footing due to misjudging your changing feet. You let out a terrified yelp as you watch in horror as fur begins to spread across your hands and up your arms. Your ears push themselves up and longer, your jaws and nose begin to push outward against your face like a fist pushing through a sheet of rubber, it all hurts so much. "Frankie!!" You finally call him, hopefully he could hear your pittiful whimper of his name.
The man slowly opens the door, a look of sympathy on his face as he stands over you, "Listen, don't fight it okay? It'll hurt more. It's your first time, of many - trust me- but I'm here okay?" he assures you, as tears flow from your eyes. You get it now, you must be turning into a werewolf, the thing that got you must have been one. All this used to be fantasy to you before, werewolves, undead... All of them fake.
Your voice comes out distorted and like a dog's whimper, "th-thank...." it's all you could muster, you really want him to make it stop, you want it to stop, you don't want this, but you know it's far too much to ask. Your back arches against you, spine craning upward, tail jutting out just above your buttocks, filling out with lush fur, your body seems to be growing much too big for your already rather torn clothes.
With your body finally setting you heave and pant. You can't understand it, you don't understand much of what is going on, you want to destroy everything, you feel unbridalled rage, but Frankie stands infront of you, hands outstretched, he calls your name softly, and you feel soothed by this. Your ears lie flat on your head, you let out a soft whimper, and coil on the floor, even if you feel tremendous power in your every fibre, you are so tired, you fall asleep almost immediately.
You wake in bed, immediately groping for your face, to your delight you feel smooth skin, and features where they should be. But upon looking at your hands you can see your fingernails are quite a bit longer than they should be. You tremble, realizing you are still in Frankie's bed and that this wasn't a horrible dream.
You slide from the bed to realize you're clad in loose men's clothes, must be Frankie's, which means you were naked when you changed back. You blush profusely, but consider him gentlemanly for preserving your modesty and getting you back into bed.
You push the door open to immediately smell bacon, it fills your nose and you feel like you could drool buckets, like you had never known bacon to smell so good.
"Mornin sunshine, ya slept like 12 hours," he comments dryly, "I figured bacon would wake ya up, pooch," he teases, which makes you feel quite self aware of your new condition and a little demeaned. You grasp your arm and look to the side. "Relax, you can live in the under-realm no one cares what you are here. Plenty a werewolves holdin down jobs, I hear you get payed vacation on full moons, pretty sweet deal if you ask me."
You eagerly sit on his couch, awaiting the promise of bacon, and for this man's almost intoxicating company. If it weren't for how ravenously hungry you are you would be thinking of this man non-stop. He's so nice, so compitant, so attractive.
He sets a plate stacked with the strips infront of you on the coffee table, giving a knowing chuckle when you dig in to them like they would go out of style. "So uh... How ya feelin today?" he asks finally once you've finished licking the plate clean.
You respond that you feel weird, but otherwise fine. You begin to ask him what you have to do now, when he blurts, "So. What do ya think of me?" You stop mid sentance, "Oh sorry, carry on-" he tries to encourage you to continue, and change the topic, something seems to have made him incredibly sheepish after that.
"What... Do you mean?" you ask.
To which he shrugs, still not looking you in the eye before continuing, "I mean, you were lookin at me last night like you wanted to fuck the undead brains outta me, how you feelin about it now?"
That was rather blunt, but it seemed his style. You watch him for a moment before shakilly replying, "I-I feel f-f-fine now. I'm sorry. I just, I think, even though dead, you're a rather attractive man."
He chuckled at this, then smirks, "Call it animal magnetism, but I think you're quite attractive yourself."
You're not sure how to respond to his constant remarks about your problem, but you suppose it's payback for staring at his stitches for so long. He leans in, a little unsure of himself, and quietly leaves a kiss on your lips, to which you're surprised with yourself for leaning yourself eagerly into.
He grins at you, "That's what I thought," he affirms to himself now pushing you over on the couch and leaning over you, a lusty expression in his eyes, "Say the word, and then I'm all yours."
"Yes!" you excitedly yip, hands immediately grasping for his ass in his tight and torn up jeans. He lets out a mock growl at your eagerness and leans himself inward to grind his hips against you.
"Let's get undressed first."
You begin to remove your top, while he throws his off to the side and begins to unbutton his pants. You hear a zip and you can't help but to feel butterflies in your stomach, not paying much attention, you hook your thumbs under your pants and shimmie them down, watching his pants drop to the floor and quickly looking up to eye the bulge in his underwear almost as hungrilly as you eyed the bacon.
You kick your pants off and you're about to go for your panties when he goes for them first himself. He stradles the couch and leans inbetween your legs, pulling your panties down and without much prompting he lowers his black lips to kiss your nethers. Then looking breifly up at you, checking to see if you approved, he moved back, tongue cautiously leaving his mouth, darting into your crevace and lapping quickly at your clit. He purses his dark lips an begins to suck at your clit, roughly passing his tongue over it several times before finally taking a breath. In responce to his actions you can barely even sit still for him, your toes are curling and your biting roughly into your bottom lip. He takes his hand now, passing two fingers into his mouth, coating them in salyva, and then easing them into your tight hole, he wriggles them for a bit and then pushes them back and forth while his mouth goes back to lapping at your clit.
You allow him to warm you up for a while before your foot travels between his legs and you pat his member through his underwear softly with the back of your foot. He moans immediatly grabbing your foot so you can't do more evil. "Mmm- So I'm guessin you want the main course now huh?"
With that, you give him an eager nod. He slips his underwear down exposing his erect cock that springs free of the tight undergarments. Frankie pulls your legs around his weist and pushes inside of you, "hmmm~ Nice and tight, I like it," he mutters through his clenched teeth. His hands slide down around your ass, his cold fingers massaging your flesh as he begins to thrust into you, gradually picking up pace.
Your becoming wet, wetter than wet, you feel like you've never wanted sex so much in your life, you're riding a high you've never known. Rolls of exstacy every time you feel the flesh of his gut press against your clit, and his penis rubbing your innermost parts. Gyrating and twisting, changing up his postitions and feircely thrusting into your cooch he seems to have passed along a part inside you that sends shivers along your side, your insides clench as a result and you both moan at this. Frankie smirks, "You like that huh?" He continues to push himself rapidly trying to find that spot again. He hits it several times, you begin to buck and squirm, yipping and moaning, your insides convulsing, juices spilling, until you feel a climax unlike anything you had felt before rocket through your mind, blurring your vision. You let out a feral howl, grasping at your legs as your sex clenches around him once more and all of your female cum spills onto the couch below.
He felt the final clench, that was enough sensation to drive him to his own climax shortly after yourself, he lets out a small amount of cum before pulling out as the rest spills onto the couch aswell. "Don't... heh... Worry. I'll clean it up..." he mumbles staggering off the couch, your eyes still on his throbbing cock, by god that was quite the experience!
He returns with some cleaning supplies and makes quick work of the couch and then towels both of yourselves off. By now the panting you both were doing has subsided.
"Maybe, you uh... Can visit me after you're situated down here huh?" he suggests, pulling on his underwear and pants. "I don't mind your company."
