As you snuffle at the tousled mess of Becky's normally impeccably groomed blonde fringe bob you catch a whiff of something different in her scent. An animal gaminess wafts up into your flaring dark nostrils as her pale skin beads with sweat suddenly. Your work rival is starting to smell more than a little like a wet dog, and as you see the ragged wound on her neck start to knit into a livid scar the wolf in you knows you've succeeded in turning her to your pack.
You pull back from Becky, licking your fangs in a feral sneer. No more dainty vegan. You know you grew, and reason she'll need the room. Still unconscious, her fingers twitch and scrabble at the concrete. Enamel flakes off of manicured nails as they inch forth from slender fingers, tapering and darkening into talons. Pale hair bristles on her knuckles as her palms bloat with animal pads. Becky's back lifts with spreading bulk, thickening shoulders straining at her puffy winter coat. You almost pity her not being awake yet to savor this as you had. As you're doing even now as you watch your new packmate emerging from your rival. Stark white is creeping down from her roots as her trim hairstyle loses itself to a wild mane like yours, snowy locks sprawling and pooling around her burgeoning frame. You hear metal grinding against concrete as her coat's zipper wrenches open, cracks and pops complemented by tearing fabric as those damned skinny jeans she paid too much for split down the seams, revealing thick muscle that bursts with wintery white pelt as it hits the night air.
You see her finally starting to stir, blinking muzzily beneath the bulging, brutish shelf of her changing brow. Icy blue irises set in black sclera finally take in her surroundings. She gives a groaning growl as she lifts herself, the sleeves of her coat coming up short on her shaggy arms. She already has fangs behind those dark lips, and you find yourself idly fantasizing about them pressing against your flesh. Oh, you'd pictured her at least once in your alone time, a spiteful session of flipping the bean where you'd imagined making her eat you out. Now, addled by new hormones in your body and the maddening scent of the growing bitch before you the imagery has taken on a savage turn.
Becky's eyes turn to you and for a moment she tenses in fright before clambering back against the brick of the building, the primal terror eliciting a snarling laugh from your muzzle. Then, you see her attention distracted by the torn fabric constricting her increasingly amazonian frame. Swelling breasts wrestle past the cups of her bra, visible in stark relief under a cashmere sweater that barely contains her. Whimpering in frustration, she digs her claws into the wool, tearing it open as a lush ruff of fur fountains out to crown her chest. The next time she looks at you the fear in those wolf eyes is gone, replaced by pleading as she struggles to free herself from the rags of what she was wearing.
She's yours now, you realize.
There's no more need to humiliate her. The wolf in her has turned the things in her you hated and the things about her you secretly desired into one elemental female like yourself. You show her kindness by letting that loose, tearing the last reminders of her humanity away. It's what her alpha should do. You step back as she shakes out her thick winter pelt, a snowy plume of a tail erupting from her shapely, shaggy rump just before her jaws lurch and crack, her new muzzle disappearing beneath white velvet capped with black, moist leather.
She gives a grateful look to you, but soon her questing nose quivers, drinking in your scent, smelling the musky arousal you experienced at seeing her pelted curves and muscle emerge. After a long sniff, she lets out a panting moan and you can smell the same from the dark, puffy folds of her pouched canine sex. As tempted as you are to eat her out right here and now, you realize that you still loom slightly larger than her in the alleyway. You're the pack alpha, and your desires come first.
Your angry fantasy of Becky reaches its final form as you pad on all fours to present your broad, ginger-pelted rump to her, lifting your tail to allow access to your secret from behind. You hear another panting whimper behind you, before you feel a moist nose snuffling at your flanks. Your pelt bristles almost electrically at the sensation of a long tongue tracing your folds, dredging along your engorged pearl. Monstrous, pawlike hands grip your shaggy thighs as the bitch who was Becky noses into your sex, and you feel the ivory danger as a fang brushes against your inner walls. She seems almost hesitant so far, and somewhere there's a guilty thrill in the human part of your mind at the thought of having tempted your rival to eat pussy for the first time. Soon instinct takes over and the white-pelted bitch is licking you with abandon, growling moans escaping from your muzzle as you arch your back, claws dragging across concrete in your reverie. With a trembling clench that travels all the way up your spine, you let out a quavering howl, Becky's muzzle coated in your juices, her pelt pungent with her scent. Any wolf would know she's yours, but still she acknowledges you as alpha by lifting her own dark lips in song to answer you.