WARNING: This story contains sex between a gay man and a straight female. May contain language, views, and fetish, not acceptable to society and not shared by the author. Please stop reading now if this bothers you. All characters are fictional and 21 years of age for all intents and purposes. If you continue, thanks for reading and I hope to hear your constructive input.
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Tyler stepped out of the shower, freshly shaven for his trip out to the gay club with his friends tonight. He looked in the mirror, double checking he'd gotten every spot. He was brown hair and eyed 20 year old twink, coming it at only 5'8" and 120lbs soaking wet. His eyes moved down his abdomen to check his pubes. He'd thought he'd gotten everything, but it was hard to work around his cock. He'd been born with a nice piece, 7.5 inches when hard, but since he only bottomed kind of wasted on him. Checking his arms, he glanced at the scar on his arm. It was healing remarkably well considering how deep the bite had been.
He'd been making his way to his apartment building one night last week when he'd hear a whimpering from the alley. He'd found a large, black dog, soaked and frightened from the storm that had passed through earlier. Always a lover of animals, he'd tried to approach it to help, but it's demeanor changed suddenly, the dog growling and lunging forward. He'd screamed as it sunk its fangs in deeply before turning tail and running off. It had hurt horribly and that was a long, wasted night in the emergency room.
Now, though, you could barely tell it was there, his skin working overtime to heal the wound. Looking in the mirror again, he was satisfied with the landscaping he'd done and continued with his weekly routine before going out.
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Two hours later, it was close to midnight and Tyler had left his friends and was grinding against a muscular Latino man on the dance floor. He was clearly interested, his hands touching his hips and about to make a move. Suddenly, though, the colored lights seemed to blur his vision, the techno music throbbing inside his skull. Tyler's stomach started to turn, nausea hitting him like he'd been sick for days. He quickly ran to the restroom, leaving the Latino man looking bewildered, worried that he would vomit. One there, he leaned over the sink, turning on the faucet to splash some water on his face and cool down his hot skin. He was checking his pale face in the mirror when he noticed his hands hurting. He looked down to see them, but his vision blurred more until he finally blacked out.
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Tyler winced his eyes, the light streaming through the window finally waking him. He opened them, looking around to find he was in his apartment. He had no recollection of how he got home, his memory a blank after he remembered getting sick. He felt okay, though, so he wasn't too worried, he'd probably just drank more than he thought.
Grabbing his dick to adjust it, he found it slightly slick. He looked at it and his hand, a drying fluid coated it entirely. 'Must have had a wild night,' he thought, even if it was slightly unusual for him to even apply lube to himself, preferring to get off riding a hard cock instead.
Approaching his shower to clean himself, he caught himself in his full-length mirror. His normally smooth body had a light coating of hair on his arms and legs, even though he'd shaved it off the night before. It was really weird, but he only shrugged, stepping in the shower and grabbing his razor as he turned on the water.
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A few weeks later, he found himself at the club again, just like he did every Saturday, feeling unwell for fourth time. It was the same routine he'd had his whole college life, despite the sickness. The only other thing different now as well, was how he looked. Ever since the first night he'd been sick, his body had been going through some changes.
He'd eventually given up on shaving his whole body, focusing on just his chest and privates, a generous layer hair covering his arms and legs, as well as the perpetual stubble on his face. He'd found he'd had a craving for red meat as well, despite being a vegetarian for the past four years of his life. It must have contributed to his expanding muscles, with him now clocking in at around 160lbs. He'd been working out more than his usually cardio at the gym to help work off some frustration from an intense increase in his sex drive. He found it helped some, but he could smell everyone at the gym, sweaty or not. The girls especially stood out among them, with him smelling their usual perfume, but also a faint hint of an aroma underneath it. He'd caught himself staring at the women for that very reason, trying to figure out where the smell was coming from. It was confusing since he'd barely looked at a woman, let alone checking their bodies out up and down.
Sometimes, though, the gym only frustrated him, making him especially horny. He'd tried using his favorite dildo, but he'd thrown it away, finding it no longer gave him pleasure to have something in his hole. Instead, he'd taken to thrusting his dick against his bed, humping it like some sort of animal until he'd cum. His balls, swollen for some reason seemed to contribute to increase of trips to the laundry room.
He'd been making out with a guy in the corner of the club, his stomach getting increasingly unsettled. He gave up when the pain became too much, opting to go for another drink at the bar. Waiting for a bartender, he played on his phone a little, not paying attention to what was around him. A woman walking by with some friends, grazed up against him and turned to apologize.
"No, it's okay-" he said, cutting himself short.
He could smell the scent on her, and his gaze lingered on her chest, his pupils dilating and his dick starting to lengthen despite not twitching once while making out with the previous man.
"Uh, excuse me..." he said under his breath, already on his way to the bathroom.
Entering a stall, he couldn't stand the pressure. He whipped out his dick, angry and red, and started furiously jerking off. It only took a couple minutes for him to shoot a huge load onto the stall door. He didn't know what was wrong with him, he hated public sex. He zipped up quickly, stumbling out of the stall, his mind dizzy from what happened. He looked into the mirror and couldn't believe what stared back at him. It was him, but his eyes were colored an amber yellow with huge, black pupils. His ears were pointed with hair covering the tips and his hands on the sink were changing, his fingers lengthening and nails extending to a point.
Freaking out, he shielded himself with his hands and rushed through the dancing crowd, out the side exit into the alley. Tripping on a crack, he looks down to see the hair on his arms thickening, coating him in a dark brown fur. His back arches, popping sounds echoing in his head, and he tries to scream, but the only thing to come out was a loud howl before he blacked out once again.
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Waking up at home once again, the sun already rising, he tries to recount what happened last night. The memories flash into his head, and he tried to write it off as dream, but the faint scuffing on his palms where he hit the pavement told him it had really happened.
He pulled out his phone, searching every corner of the internet for info about what had happened to him. His search didn't turn up much, only leading him to weird sites about medieval mythology and misanthropy.
His search for information was interrupted, however, by his best friend Luna, texting to see if their lunar eclipse underwear party was still on for tonight. He'd forgotten all about it with all that had happened to him. They'd made plans to get together months ago when they'd first found out about the eclipse, deciding to spend it drinking wine in their underwear and watching movies with moon in the title. He really wasn't feeling up to it, but he hadn't seen his bestie in almost a month, so he texted back an A-OK, momentarily forgetting about his search for answers.
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He'd just finished opening the wine when there was a knock as his door. Looking through the peephole and seeing it was his friend, he quickly opened the door.
"Luna!"
"Tyler! I feel like I haven't seen you in ages," she shouted, happily hugging him and making his eyes widen when he caught her scent.
He quickly let go, not trusting himself, and said, "Hey, let's get this party started already. The wine's open and the popcorn's made. Just go ahead and change and meet me in the bedroom."
"Great! I'll just be a minute."
He grabbed the wine and two glasses, heading to the bedroom, thankful he'd calmed down some and shucked off his clothes. He put in the DVD and hopped into bed wearing only his boxer briefs. He was about to press play when Luna walked in from the living room.
"So what movie are we watching first?" she asked, standing in the door way.
"Moonstruck-" he said, turning towards her, losing his words when he saw her. She was wearing a red lacy bra and panties that contrasted nicely with her black hair. Her B-cup breasts peeking out over the edge and the creamy, white skin of her waist making him stare.
