The Forest Inside Me

The woods were quiet. Still. But the air tasted wrong.

He had felt it all day something under his skin. A tension. A hunger that wasn’t his, but was growing in his chest like heat trapped beneath the surface of his ribs. By the time he stumbled into the deeper grove, sweat ran down his back, his legs shook, and his cock was hard for no damn reason.

Then the first pulse hit him.

He dropped to his knees with a gasp, eyes wide, as the flesh of his abs rippled like something was moving beneath it. His fingers clutched at his shirt, tearing it apart with animal desperation. Muscles swelled first his pecs, firming, rising like two mountains under his skin, then his core tightening, each ab forming like it was being pumped up from inside.

His spine arched backward, and he screamed, but it wasn't pain it was pleasure.

Hot, blinding pleasure.

His cock throbbed, twitched, then lengthened. Inches. Then more. Redder, slicker, veined and bestial. It drooled pre, thick strands hanging like ropes, dripping between the hair growing fast around his groin.

His balls swelled beneath it, heavy, obscene, twitching. They weren’t human anymore they were fucking wild, fur-covered, plump with heat, swinging with every breath like they were alive.

Then came the fur, sweeping down his arms in a rush of warmth. Nails thickened, blackened, claws ripping from fingers. His face pushed forward with a loud crack, jaw stretching into a brutal muzzle as his teeth grew long, sharp, dripping with saliva. His tongue, longer now, lolled out, panting with heat and need.

He growled, hand now a thick, clawed paw gripping the base of his monstrous shaft. He pumped once, and it jerked in his grip like it was connected to something deeper than nerves something feral, ancient.

His ears twitched atop his head. His body was perfect now. Powerful. Engineered to rut, breed, claim.

Still on his knees, he tilted his head up and let out a deep, primal howl that echoed through the trees. Not for help. Not for mercy. But for more. For anyone to hear. To come. To see what he had become.

The woods around him now reeked of his musk thick, bestial, corrupting. Anyone who wandered close would smell him. And they wouldn’t leave unchanged.

He was still stroking slowly, teasing himself. His massive werecock now glistened with slick, the flare twitching. He grunted, body trembling again, not from fear, but from the weight of transformation still lingering in his bones.

The last of his humanity melted away with a single growl of satisfaction.

He didn’t just become the beast.

He came into it.