"Allow me" said a slinky wolf bitch, patting Smokey on the shoulder. "In the lore of men, the bite of a wolf will turn change a man. It's only right that I infect him. Besides, he's cute. Some better ears, a decent tail, claws and teeth, he'll be just right for me. I can't wait to see that black hair of his become a proper coat of fur. Cover up that ugly pink human skin."
The wolf bitch had a great figure, as supple as any woman's. Her white fur had changed to a long white hair. Her eyes looked through a shapely, nearly human face, with only a trace muzzle and cute canine nose. Her fangs were pearly white and shapely. She had two breasts proper, and small raised indentions for the rest of her nipples. Her vagina had changed so that she'd be perfectly proportioned for mating with humans, not wolves.
But you couldn't tell that looking at her, as she had made herself a dress out of a piece of abandoned canvas in a bit of human modesty. Her furry bosum, white legs and paw-like feet did show though. In spite of her technically being a wolf and he being a bear, Smokey's eyes bugged out.
Even with a dress, she didn't believe in hiding her tail. It hung proudly out.
"Suit yourself, ma'am" said Smokey, almost reluctantly. "I'd love to see a man turn into one of us, those crazy two-leggers were always chasing us down firing their kill-sticks at us and turning us into rugs."
"Call be Lycanthia" she smiled. "Come with me. I can't wait to see the man's fur sprout all over that sick pinkish-white human skin. Would you believe that man shaves his face?"
"What's that?" asked Smokey.
"You know they shave - cut of the hair covering their face - to get that effect?" said Lycanthia. "When human boys get to be men they can cover most of their faces with a good natural set of course hair, almost as good as fur. But they like to cut it off.
"You're kidding?" said Smokey. "Why would they do that?"
Lycanthia shrugged. "But once our man's bitten, he's not going to be able to shave the hair that's going to be sprouting over that face. Not to mention cut around his muzzle."
While this was going on, the blue-eyed lumberjack finally felled the tree
"Timberrrrrrrrr" he said with satisfaction, watching the tree fall. "Not bad for a part timer" he chuckled.
His name was Jim Terrier, and this was his summer job, chopping dead trees in the private wood lot for firewood. There were a lot of cottages in the area, and nothing said cottage life for firewood. Jim himself was twenty, a lifelong resident of the area.
It looked very much like it would be about the last summer chopping wood for this young Monty Python fan. Next year he'd be a senior in college, and earning his Bachelor of Business Administration. A desk job in a bank beckoned, and the salary and yuppie life (and dating life) that would go along with it.
Jim was proud of getting his job, in spite of the backbreaking labor. The owner of the woodlot, a distant friend of a friend, had trouble filling the job. Something about the bad reputation of a nearby "secret" government lab. Funny. If anything happened there, there'd be plenty of warning to evacuate. What was it going to do? Release deadly poison gas? Radiation? What a laugh. Jim would be okay. And, despite what his friend Greg said, Jim'd be able to have kids to.
Little did Jim know that the only type of offspring he'd soon be able to produce were half-human, half-wolf mutts. And, without a cure, his career plans would be dashed. Banks don't hire wolves to administer new accounts.
"Hi, handsome" said a sultry voice, taking Jim by surprise as he was studying the tree and how to best chop it up into firewood preparatory to having it hauled.
"Yeah?" said Jim, enjoying the attention of an apparent girl out here. He turned around. "Hi-ya-yaaaaaaaaaah!"
Jim looked at Lycanthia in shock and fear. She would have been really attractive and hot, if she could drop the fur, the teeth, and most of all the ears, muzzle and tail.
"Who . . . what are you?" said Jim, holding his axe defensively.
Lycanthria dropped on four legs, and bounded around Jim, while he desperately tried to hold her at bay with his axe. "You're mate!"
Lycanthria bound over the tree stump, Jim, in his confusion, tried to retreat over the log, but stumbled and dropped his axe. That was all Lycanthria needed. She pounced, biting him on what she considered his best feature. His hairy chest. Then she went.
Jim was astounded that she went. "Probably rabid" he said, looking at the bite mark.
It was already rapidly healing.
"Nice" smiled Lycanthria.
"What the fuck!" he said. "I've got to get out of here."
Jim picked up his axe and backed away.
"You don't belong to the human world anymore" Lycanthria told him, and motioned to Smokey to come forward. "You belong to us anthros. You're my mate, for now and forever."
Jim held up the axe, staring at her and the half-bear wide-eyed.
"I don't know what you freaks want, but I'm getting the hell out of these woods. My days as a lumberjack are over....rrrrr"
Jim again dropped the axe and doubled up in pain. He fell to the ground, in pain, but miserable aware of his pounding heart and feverish body.
"Your days as a human are over" laughed Lycanthria.
Jim didn't reply. He was itchy. His transformation wasn't going to delay one second. He had already put himself in danger by being so close to the infectious site. But not drinking any contaminated water he had been safe, then. The bite pushed through all of his defenses. The toxins via Lycnathria made every hormone and cell in the doomed young man set to WOLF.
Jim got up, and tried to stumbled away despite the itching. No luck. Lycanthria and Smokey stood between him and civilization. And then, Jim said what a young man doomed to transform into a wolf usually said.
"No, no, fuck no!" he said, looking at his hands.
The fingernails were sprouting into claws, as before his very eyes a thickening coat of fur moved over his skin and up his arms scratching against the red flannel. Heredity had given Jim a hairy chest, mad science made it thicken to the point where he couldn't see through the coat of fur which was rapidly encompassing his skin.
"Much better" said Lyncanthria, brushing his chest with her hand. "You're turning into a perfect mate for me, you see? Isn't it great?"
Jim was still too human and scared for that. Jim stood in horror, just staring at his clawed, fur covered hands as he felt the fur quickly run along his whole body from neck, then down to toe. Then, for a moment it eased off. At least Jim could get away and go for help. No, false hope for Jim.
The fur didn't stop at his neck. Jim scratched furiously as it crawled up from his open collar and spread like wildfire over his previously clean-shaven face. Jim hadn't felt as if his face was his without it being shaved close, that was his reason. Well, now it wasn't, not by any means of the imagination.
Jim's hair grew a little longer. He didn't notice, he was too busy trying to rub his burning ears. There was nothing Jim could do, they sprouted hair and he could feel them pulling long and up and out, to become perfect wolf's ears.
"You're getting along now, pal" said Smokey. "Bet you can hear everything in the forest."
"NO!" said Jim, his voice now changed as his Adam's Apple grew out. It was, lucky for Jim, still similar. Except a little hoarser, with a tendency for his sentences to end in growls that he'd have to watch out for so long as he remained a wolf.
Jim's nose wouldn't stay the same, as Jim looked at it crosseyed it became cold and black. Jim's grasped his jaw in pain, as his teeth became sharp and fanglike in an instant. His eyes shut and opened again, as the pupils retained their blue but the whites earned a sickening yellow glow.
"Stay back" he thought, as he tried to push his jaw in. The pressure on it was building. With a pop, his lower face went out into a rather impressive, albeit very short, muzzle.
"Try shaving that' laughed Lycanthria. "You'll have to embrace the fur now."
"Psycho bitch" Jim sneered in reply, or rather growled.
"So why aren't you running?" pointed out Smokey.
Well, Jim couldn't run. Not with the itching, the cramps and the pain. His fur-covered chest and torso grew spectacularly, straining the red flannel as Jim gained something of a wolf's musculature on his new and very much unwanted hybrid body. His arms and torso grew a little, just to suggest the quadruped proportions of a wolf without actually forcing Jim to four legs. It did, to Jim's aggravation, mean that an inch of furry, though well sculpted stomach show between his shirt and his jeans. But what was the point of muscles if he was little more than a dog?
The next moves took Jim by surprise. He grabbed his lower back, just above the ass.
"What the hell!"
"Your tail" said Lycanthria. "And I can tell it's going to be beautiful."
"I'm not going to have a fucking tail" growled Jim.
But he was. In fact, he was already growing it as he said those words. In a few seconds, it was obvious to Jim as well as Lycanthria and Smokey that a tail was growing down into the seat of Jim's jeans.
The two anthros laughed at the human's discomfort and denial. Well, it's best not to even call Jim a human anymore. Let's say the two antros laughed at the newly-minted werewolf's discomfort and denial.
Why Jim desperately wanted to hide his tail in the pants is best known to him. The truth probably is that this was as grave an insult to Jim as his new muzzle. But Jim tried loosening his belt, pulling on his pants and shifting his legs, to no avail. The tail would grow, and it would rip through the seams in his jeans. Jim looked round at his rapidly growing wolf tail, that in less than a minute, hung most of the way down to the ground.
Jim tottered at his legs gained muscle. Then it was time for his hind paws.
"Yowl-ooooooooooo" Jim howled, literally as his growing paws and his steel-toed work boots fought it out.
"What a howl!" said Lycanthria, eying the still shocked Jim. "What a wolf!"
"You ought to take them off, pal" said Smokey.
"Not even my boots" gasped Jim. "I'm a hooooooo-man being, not an animal."
"Yes you are" said Lycanthria, "You are a beautiful anthro wolf."
Smokey had a deep-seated disdain for humans. But he felt sorry for this guy. It wasn't right to force creatures to become something they didn't want to be. But this was survival.
Amazingly, it was the steel toed boots that gave way, Jim's new hind paws ripping aside the entire fronts of the shoes as they went out all the way into enormous hind-feet.
The transformation was over, leaving werewolf Jim gasping. He lunged for his axe and took a swipe at Smokey.
"Watch it pal" said Smokey. "Just because you're a fellow anthro doesn't mean I won't crush you if I have to. Come on, buddy, come with us! Us two'll go out, and I'll show you how to hunt like a real predator does!"
"No" said the werewolf, gasping. "I'm still getting out of here. Going for help."
"Let me" Lycanthria, said to Smokey. "I can handle him."
"Come on big boy" she told him. "I'm all yours."
In one movement, she dropped her dress.
"For life" said Lycanthria.
Jim looked at the beautiful female werewolf. He couldn't suppress his new instincts. He had been hearing and smelling everything about, even before he had finished turning. And really unwittingly. Jim knew about the terrifying community of half-animals nearby. But more importantly, Jim was now susceptible to a werewolf's pherranomes. College? Bank? Human Girls? By instinct Jim was suited for an anthro wolf, as much as his mind screamed against the idea.
Lycanthria smelled delicious, and once again Jim unwittingly dropped his axe.
Jim, deft with the knowledge of a man newly out of his teens, hugged and kissed Lycanthria to her satisfaction. But even in her embrace, and with an almost overpowering desire to go all the way with her, Jim's mind butted in.
"You're not an animal, Jim" it said. "You don't want this. Fucking some wolf-bitch? Living with a whole community of half-beasts! They made you a freak, but maybe you can escape and be cured? Even if you can't, you owe it to your friend, family, the country to save them from this!"