For a time you squirmed on the floor. Trying to get comfortable (impossible) and ignore your erection (almost impossible). Images of Roger's transformation, of the unbridled power of his bullish masculinity, of the exultation that had consumed him, kept playing behind your closed eyes. The only other thing you could think of was your encounter with the satyr in the temple.
However, neither you nor Mark were used to going so long without a good night's rest. So at this point, you wanted sleep as much as you wanted sex. Mark fell asleep first, the curse not having as firm a hold on him. But, listening to his breathing become peaceful and regular also helped to calm you, remind you of your desire to protect him. Of course that desire was also tainted with sexuality, but as images of him happily submitting to you became entwined with the idea of guarding him from other males, you were too tired to care, or even act on the erotic imagery.
In the end, lust or not -- hard stone floor or not -- exhaustion won out. Your own breathing slowed, and your mind drifted from fantasy into deep dreaming. But the tension of frustrated desire and fear of giving in pursued you. While you sleep much more soundly then the night before, your dreams are unquiet.
Sometimes you are being hunted by a great furry predator, afraid of his teeth and claws and glowing eyes and of your own perverse desire to be consumed by him. Sometimes you are yourself, human -- but bigger and hairier, with girls and boys fawning over you, offering themselves for your pleasure, and you want to but you can't get your speedo off, so you just keep showing off your muscles as someone -- you can't tell if it's Mark or a girl that looks like him -- nuzzles your crotch through the straining fabric.
Then you relive Roger's transformation, only this time he cums on you, and you swell up, muscle bulking and horns pushing from your head, until with a bellow you cum on him in return, making him shrink down and whimper before your awesome virility; putting the puny bull in his place before turning and grabbing Mark...
But then you are running with Mark, human again, and the predator is after you. Pointed ears, pointed muzzle, the glimpse of a tail -- you think it's a werewolf. Your body aches, needing it. Needing to be claimed. To give in to this powerful creature.
You trip.
"Keep going!" you shout at Mark, and are happy to see him run on... Then the beast is on you and you cry out with high-pitched wanton shriek.
"Yes! Ye-es! Take me!"
And the beast snarls above you, claws digging into you, enormous cock pushing into you... you see yourself from the side, seeing the grapefruit sized knot force its way into you as your ass clenches and you moan.
Then you are back in your body, looking down at your hands as you pant and push back against the heavy weight as the beast presses down on you. Down, down... and in. The heat and pressure of its cock go deeper and deeper into you, your heart pounding in time to its thrusts, as the titan seems to melt down over you, into you
Your skin stretches as its muscles push into and merge with your chest and abs and arms. You feel the black fur slide down across your bulging biceps; you see it sweep down over your wrists and hands, fingers growing thick, and long, and yellow claws pushing out your nails as you dig them into the soil in helpless surrender
You feel the cock come inside you, filling you with a wild, wicked lust -- fire so intense, pleasure divine! You lift your head and howl at the crimson Moon, eager to hunt, eager to mate. The cock pulses -- your cock! Your potent essence erupting forth, to claim your pack and breed your pups --
Pups, seed... manly... alpha -- bitch -- Mark --
"Noougggh!" The vision dissolved in tatters of red, blood throbbing through your eyes. But still you felt your cock throbbing. The strong, bitter stench of your semen was heavy in the air as wetness spattered over your groin and belly and thighs. You struggled to sit up, terrified of what this nocturnal lapse would mean for your humanity.