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Halloween is one of my favorite holidays.  What’s not to love?  The weather is cool, the food is amazing, and of course, there are the costumes.  A chance to show off what you’ve got, or to be someone else, to try on something new you normally wouldn’t… It’s a beautiful holiday, if you think about it.  Having your limits pushed, getting just a little bit scared; on Halloween, people let themselves go, and that’s what makes it so fun.

Halloween on campus at State is the best, especially if you know the right people.  I had been looking forward to it for over a month, wondering what sort of costume Mike was going to put on, whether he would want to go to any parties or instead stay home to watch scary movies and cuddle.  Mike had a nice balance between “trick” and “treat.”  On one hand he was a softie, but on the other, he didn’t mind being pulled out of his comfort zone, either.  Sometimes he surprised me with his creativity. 

Like that time in September when he showed up at my door buck naked.

But I had noticed that autumn that he seemed a little distracted.  Maybe it was just schoolwork, but he seemed to have something going on.  I couldn’t put my finger on it.  He was just as sweet and attentive as ever.  The sex was amazing and just as frequently; he was respectful, affectionate, obedient.  But sometimes, especially at night, I would wake up and find him out of bed, standing by my window, staring up at the sky, the crescent moon reflected in his dark eyes.

I asked him a few times if he was okay, and he always hastened to reassure me that he was.  I probably could have pushed harder, but I saw no point in prying; sometimes, a man needs his secrets.  And ultimately, I trusted Mike to know his boundaries and limits, and to take care of himself.  He always had, and I knew that he knew he could trust me.  So, I let it go.

What was the worst that could happen?

I soon found out.  It was less than a week until Halloween, and Mike had been getting more and more anxious.  He seemed like he was walking on eggshells, like he was expecting something to happen.  But what it was, I couldn’t begin to fathom.

What Mike needed, I thought, was just some extra TLC to ease his anxiety.  That week, I paid special attention to him, giving him regular poundings with a strap-on, massaging the tension from his muscles, and stroking his meat at every opportunity.  I could tell he was grateful, but the nervousness remained.  When I asked him what he was going as for Halloween, he didn’t even have an answer!  His mind was somewhere else.

(For the record, I had decided on my costume already.  I was going as a sexy nurse.  When I found out that Mike hadn’t planned anything, I went online and bought a straitjacket.  “You can be my patient!  A crazy inmate who needs some compassionate control, management, and safekeeping from a trained health professional!” I said.  That had made him laugh.)

A couple of days before the end of October, I went out with Rachel and Oz to check out the campus decorations.  One of the student organizations had carved pumpkins and placed them all over campus.  It was a beautiful touch, although Oz pointed out they would probably all end up smashed before November 1st.  We took bets on how long they would last.  I gave them a day.

Mike wasn’t there, which was strange; normally we saw each other daily, but he had been absent all day, and when I went by his dorm, one of the people on his floor said he hadn’t seen Mike at all, either in class or in his room.  Mike was MIA and no one seemed to know where he was.  He hadn’t left a note.

I couldn’t help but worry.  I figured I’d swing by later in the night to check on him again, after Rachel and Oz went home. 

But when we returned to my apartment that evening, Oz toting a six-pack, we found him there already.

He looked terrible; his skin was flushed with sweat, and his eyes were wide.  When we entered the room, he stared at us like a deer in the headlights, clearly terrified.

“Mike!  Are you okay?” I exclaimed, worried.  “You look like you have a fever.”

“Geena!  There’s no time; you have to get out of here!  It’s a full moon!” he babbled.

“What?  This is my apartment, Mike.  What are you talking about?” I asked.  I wasn’t mad, just confused and worried.  Maybe it was the fever talking; he kept scratching, his movements jerky and frantic.

“No time to explain.  Geena, you’re in danger.  I wanted to tell you but I didn’t know how, but you have to trust me.  You can’t stay here.  I have to be alone; I don’t want to hurt you.  I’m sorry.  I can’t control it.”

“Control what?  Mike, please, sit down,” I said, taking a step toward him. 

He held out a hand, stumbling back, shaking his head.  “No.  No!  Stay back!  You don’t understand, Geena.  It’s a full– a f-full–”

Suddenly the word stuck in his mouth, and he coughed, head jerking violently, ruffling his hair.  He keeled over, clutching his stomach with a groan like he was having some kind of terrible cramp.  “F-f-full–” he gasped, trying to finish the sentence, but the word came out as a hacking, barking noise. 

Then he looked up, his face pinched, and his eyes suddenly turned from brown to yellow, the color spreading like someone had dropped ink into his eyes.

“Full moo-OOOOOO-ooooon!” he blurted out, the word stretching into an ear-shattering howl.  His mouth stretched and his teeth lengthened into pointed fangs.  His shaggy hair began growing before my very eyes, and more hair began sprouting from his wrists, ankles, and neck.  I could see his muscles rippling under his clothes like water boiling, swelling and bulging as they grew bigger and firmer; everything was getting stronger, more powerful.  There was a soft crunching noise, like someone stepping on a bag of seashells, and his spine sprouted out, fur springing from it, growing into a huge, bushy tail.

“Oh, shit!  Oh, shit!” cried Oz, grabbing Rachel and yanking her into the corner.

Mike convulsed before us as he transformed, and suddenly, everything made sense.

“Mike, wait!” I cried, but of course I couldn’t stop him from turning.  There was part of him that was at the mercy of the moon, and it could not be contained, though I could tell he was trying to suppress it.

I ran toward my bedroom.  I was operating on pure instinct, adrenaline coursing through my veins.  Mike had begged me to escape, but I couldn’t just leave him here!  He needed me.  And deep down I felt like I could help.  I knew I could help.

“Geena, wait, don’t leave us!” cried Rachel, but I ignored her.  Time was critical.  I had only a minute, maybe even seconds, before he was done transforming, and then, the hunger would set in.  I’m a voracious reader and I love just about every genre, and everything I had ever read about werewolves was that, once they turned, they were ravenous.  I had always thought those books were myths, but now, I realized, they contained very real information.  And I could use that information to my advantage.

In the bedroom, I tore through my drawers, searching for the one thing that might work.  I tore off my thick cashmere sweater, throwing it on the bed, and stripped off my clothes, exposing my skin, aware of the half-wolf, half-man growling and snarling in the other room.

I found what I was looking for: a thick leather harness.  I pulled it over my plump thighs, tightening the belt around my waist, strapping the two leg holes around my skin, making sure it was snug and secure.

If I was wrong, Mike was about to have a feast.  My full-figured body would be tempting to him.  But there were things that the animalistic side of Mike would want that weren’t meat.  Things I could provide.  And it was critical that I trust myself and maintain my confidence.  After all, don’t they say that predators can smell fear?

The snarling had stopped.  Mike’s transformation was complete.

It was time to do or die.  Literally.

I burst out of the bedroom, naked except for my harness.  Mike was crouched in the middle of the room, pointed ears turned toward Rachel and Oz, lips peeled back in a growl, all the hair on the back of his neck up.  His clothing laid about the room torn to shreds during his transformation. His posture indicated he was about to pounce; he had his prey cornered and he knew it.

“STAY!”  My voice boomed over the room and, instantly, I saw Mike’s hackles flatten.  It was like I had said the magic word.  But it wasn’t about the word, but how it dropped from my lips, full of authority.  I didn’t even know if Mike could understand the word in his current state, but I knew he could respond to tone and body language.

“…Geez, seriously?  Is now the time for this?” asked Rachel in shock.  I ignored her, staring down at Mike, maintaining eye contact.

His sharp yellow wolf eyes looked up at me and, reflected in those eyes, I saw respect.  I saw the acknowledgement that he had accepted me as his Alpha, his wolf queen.

I stood my ground, feet firmly planted on the ground, hands on my ample hips, back straight, in a way that I knew emphasized the curves of my body and signaled authority.

I was wearing nothing but a black harness, but when he looked down, his eyes didn’t see the harness.  What he saw was what the harness was supporting.  Between my legs, a thick, heavy silicone dick was poised, quivering, pointing at Mike like an accusation.  This was no normal dildo; it had a tapered head, and a thick, swollen knob at the base.  My friend Wendy had created this unique piece for me months ago, but I never had a chance to use it… until now.

It was a werewolf cock.  And it was bigger than his.

I hoped.

“Heel!” I ordered, pointing a finger to my side.  Mike obeyed without hesitation, flattening his chest and belly to the floor, head down submissively, crawling over to me with his tail between his legs.  He crouched beside me, leaning in to rest his fluffy head on the creamy length of my calf.

“What, are you a dog trainer now?” asked Rachel sarcastically.

“No, she’s a Mike trainer!” exclaimed Oz.

I reached down to card roughly through his wild, curly hair; I saw Mike’s eyes flutter partially closed, leaning into my touch.  His pointed ears were down, and they didn’t even twitch as the others spoke; he wasn’t listening to them at all, all of his attention on me.  His insatiable wolf hunger had been tamed, or at least replaced, with another kind of desire.  Seeing Mike like this caused a familiar warmth to puddle deep in my gut, spreading to my groin, heating the area between my legs.

Mike wasn’t completely covered in fur, but until that moment, the fur he had grown had afforded him a little bit of modesty; the hair on his chest had grown thicker, along with the hair between his legs.  He looked like a wild man, really, if you ignored the fangs, and the tail, and the pointed ears; Mike had always had a little bit of body hair, giving him the solid appearance of a teddy bear.  Now, his wrists and ankles were covered in a thick coat of dark, curly hair that matched what was on his head.  I hadn’t really thought much about how the moon would affect his more intimate parts, at least not initially.  When his clothes had ripped off, his cock had been nestled in fur, all but covered.  But my soft, reassuring pets awakened it, and I saw it growing, the head emerging from the fur as it perked up.  And to my surprise I found that the moon had had an effect on it, after all.  It was bigger.  A lot bigger.  Not as large as my strap-on, but still impressive, and not easy to overlook once it got hard.  Mike’s cock had always made an impressive showing when he got turned on (and he was wonderfully easy to turn on, if you knew which buttons to press!), but now his cock was enormous.

“I’ve heard of horn-dogs but this is ridiculous,” said Oz in a stage-whisper.

“Is now really the time for cracking jokes?!” hissed Rachel.

“Right before getting eaten by a wolf-man is the perfect time for cracking a joke!”

“No one’s going to get eaten,” I said, firmly.  “Mike is going to be a good boy; he just needs some discipline, so he understands who the Alpha is.” 

As if he didn’t already!

He whined softly and rolled onto his back in an instinctive display of submissiveness, showing me his stomach and his veiny pink cock curved over it.  Looking up at me, his eyes were soft with admiration for the round curves of my stomach and breasts poised over him.  He looked at me like I was the moon itself. 

I smiled down at him, nodding approvingly of his submission to me.  But I knew that, in this state, Mike was still wild, feral, and needed disciplined to emphasize who was in charge.  You can’t expect a wild creature to simply accept an Alpha.  They need to be shown; the power dynamic needs regularly enforced.  For now, at least, Mike was calm, but that calmness was fragile.  It wouldn’t take much for him to turn and try to challenge my authority.  Until I proved to him that I was unmistakably in charge, I wasn’t safe, and no one else was, either.

“Rachel, Oz.  You two go,” I ordered.

“And leave you alone with a werewolf?” exclaimed Oz.

“Are you kidding me?  Let’s go, Oz!” snapped Rachel, grabbing one of the loops of his nipple rings through his shirt. 

He winced, letting her lead him to the door, whispering “Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!  Okay, okay, sheesh!”

I stood between them and Mike, blocking them with my body, keeping them safe.  It was like standing between a hungry Rottweiler and a juicy steak dinner.  I could see Mike’s eyes follow the two of them; his lips parted, and he panted softly, his wet tongue hanging out of his mouth and licking his lips.

“Down!” I ordered, putting my foot on his stomach to keep him from springing up.  He whimpered, his gaze turning back to me, his ears flattening.

“Hey, can I take the beer, or–?” asked Oz, holding up the six-pack he had been carrying.

“OZ!” barked Rachel, hauling him out of the door.  It slammed behind them, leaving us alone.

I crouch down, my strap-on bobbing between my legs.  “Now it’s just you and me,” I said, softly.  “You’re going to be a good boy for me, aren’t you?”  I ran my fingers through the thick mane of hair on his head.  “That’s right.  You and I, we’re a pack, and I’m the leader of that pack.  You’re going to obey me, and if you obey me, I’m going to reward you and make sure you’re taken care of.  Understand?”

He seemed to; there was a masked intelligence behind those yellow eyes.  His humanity was lurking behind the wolf hunger, and his natural desire to please me was still there, deep down.  He could be controlled, that much was clear.

“Come,” I commanded, and I turned my back to him.  It was terrifying but it was showing him my assertiveness, my certainty that I was in charge.

When I walked to the bedroom, I heard him behind me, following obediently.

I pointed to the bed.  “Lie down,” I commanded. 

Mike crawled onto the bed, on his hands and knees, and stuck his ass into the air, presenting.  His tail flipped up, wagging with nervous anticipation.

I walked up behind him and reached out to stroke it.  “Good boy.  Very good boy.  Now, we’re going to get some of your energy out and, once we’re done, I’ll give you a nice treat to reward you.  Does that sound like a fair deal?” I murmured, running my hands through his thick fur.

He whimpered, the sound full of desire.

“Stay,” I commanded, and left the room.  Beside the door, Mike had left a duffel bag.  Ruffling through it, I discovered that he had packed for the night.  He must have been planning to run off and try to take care of his affliction alone.  It made me feel sad, thinking of how he’d kept this from me… trying to protect me, I guess.  But he didn’t need to have done it all alone!  I would have helped… of course I would have.  I loved him.  In a way, I was glad his plan had somehow been messed up; it meant that now, he didn’t need to endure the night alone.

In the top of the duffel bag, I found a collar and a leash; I smiled a little at that.  Those would come in handy, later.

I returned to the bedroom to find Mike still kneeling on the bed, his weight on his forearms, his head down.  He wiggled his backside at me when he heard (or smelled) me enter, and I saw his pointed little ears turn toward me.

“No treats until we establish who the Alpha is,” I said, firmly.  I got behind him to pull the thick, leather collar around his throat.  His soft fur offered natural padding; I made sure it was tight but not too tight, slipping in a finger between his throat and the collar to give it a test tug.  This evoked a growl; I slapped his ass.  “No.  No growling,” I scolded.  “This is why you need discipline.  Put your hands– paws– hands out.”

He stretched his arms, extending his furry hands.  His nails, I noticed, had sharpened into claws; it sent a thrill down my spine, knowing how dangerous he was… and that right now, I had total command over him!

I went to get the leather wrist cuffs from my dresser, and pulled them over his wrists, tightening them.  He didn’t protest, though I could see his body shaking with the effort to hold still.  Soon, that effort wouldn’t matter, because I was making sure he wouldn’t be able to move!

I fastened each of the cuffs to the bedposts, making sure both arms were tied down, then went behind him.  He wiggled his ass again with a whimper.

“Mike, I want you to hold still and take your punishment like the faithful, loyal dog I know you are.  It might sting but it will help you relax; I know you’ll be good for me, won’t you?” I said soothingly.  At the suggestion I saw some of the tension loosen from his shoulders; he probably knew what was next and was looking forward to it.  The release would do him good.

I started with his favorite flogger, a short, black-and-red flogger with a braided handle.  It fit beautifully in my hand; the leather was soft from being well-loved and well-used.  I stood behind Mike, my stance wide, the heavy dildo between my legs bouncing with every movement, and then, I brought the flogger down on Mike’s exposed backside.  I didn’t bother trying to be gentle; the fur absorbed some of the impact, and in his current form, with so much energy, I knew he could take it.

His body shuddered as the flogger came down on him, and I swung the thick strips of leather down, watching them slap against his body, the ribbons trailing elegantly with every swing.  Mike kept his posture, jerking with response at each stinging slap, but he didn’t try to get away; he knelt patiently, accepting the blows, panting softly into my bed sheets as I worked him over.

He took fifty blows with the flogger, his muscles quivering as I tenderized his broad, muscular ass.  At fifty I stopped, dropping the flogger to the floor; he probably could have kept going, but I only needed to tire him out, not hurt him.

“Such a good, obedient pup,” I complimented him softly, reaching out to run my hand over his fluffy tail.  “Now let’s try something different.”

His ears perked.  He was probably hoping for his bone; he yelped in surprise when I got out the paddle instead.  The heavy, solid, thick wood offered a new kind of stimulation compared to the sharp stings of the flogger; each blow reverberated through his body, making him shiver, and I could practically see the tension he was carrying melt from his muscles as I pounded the broadside of the paddle against him.  Every thud jolted his body, and with every hit pulled a small little “wruff!” from his lips.

“Good boy, Mike.  Good boy.  You’re a good beta, aren’t you, submitting to your Alpha?  Yes,” I purred, dropping the paddle to rake my nails through his fur and over his skin.  His back arched appreciatively.  “You see, it’s good to let me take care of you.  You don’t have to be wild; you can be tamed.  Isn’t this easier, to let me take care of you?  To devote yourself to me?”

I reached for the leash and clipped it to his collar to pull his head up; I got behind him.  He panted, wriggling, presenting for me. 

“Do you think you’ve earned your treat, Mike?  Does puppy want his bone now?  Let me hear you beg for it.  Come on, boy, beg.”

Mike whimpered and whined; between his legs I could see his fully erect cock dripping with desperation.  I put a hand on the small of his back to steady myself as I got behind him; I looked down at him, the leash in my hand, the collar on his neck, and that pink, inviting little hole under his tail.

I spit into my hand and rubbed it over my strap-on, then took it by the knot and guided it to push against his entrance.

Mike threw back his head and gave a small howl, rocking back against it.

“Whoa, whoa, slow down, boy.  You’ll get it, I promise.  We have all night!” I said, tugging on the leash to get him to hold still.  I didn’t move until he stilled for me, and then, gently praising him for his patience, I thrust my hips forward, pressing the dildo into his eager little puppy butt.

It was magical; Mike was always a cooperative partner, happy to submit himself to me, ready to be filled.  But with the moon giving him energy, he was greedier for cock than I had ever seen him before!  It made my pussy throb, I could feel slick pooling in my harness as I began to fuck him, pushing the length of the dildo in up to the top of the knot.  There, it caught, but Mike would not be content without it.  We were mates and he wanted it all.

He wriggled back, and I thrust forward, the leash wrapped up in one of my fists, the other hand keeping a steady, grounding presence of Mike’s back.  I felt his body strain for the knot, and eventually it pushed into him, bottoming out, connecting us and sealing our pair-bond.

I let go of his back, then, and reached around to cuff his cock.  It was weighty and thick; he rocked against my strap-on, every movement forward pushing it into my hand.  I jerked him steadily, murmuring encouragement: “Good boy.  That’s it.  You’re doing great, babe; you’re taking that whole knot.  I’ve got you.  You can come whenever you’re ready.”

He panted at the sound of my voice, and I saw his body tense with his impending orgasm.  I thrust my hips forward, giving him the full length and width of the dildo, burying the knot completely inside of him, and that was when he came into my hand with a soft howl, gushing a deluge of thick, creamy semen.  It was an impressive amount, and he pumped into my hand for several seconds, milking himself in my grip, wringing out every bit while I continued to pound his ass.

Then, he slumped down a little, stilling, his great shoulders moving up and down as he breathed.

I leaned over him to whisper into his ear; it flicked against my lips, listening thirstily for my approval.

“Perfect,” I murmured.

I remained behind him, leaving the strap-on inside him for twenty minutes before I worked out the knot and the shaft.  He whimpered to see it go, but he seemed far calmer than he had been when he first transformed.

“Don’t worry, Mike.  We have all night,” I said.

I left the collar and leash on him but undid the cuffs.  I fetched the straitjacket that was supposed to be part of his Halloween costume and fixed his arms around himself; his gold eyes watched me adoringly as I restrained and secured him tightly.

I took off my harness and let it drop to the floor with a thunk.

I pushed him back onto the bed and climbed on top of him, pressing his face between my thighs, sitting down to smash my pussy against his mouth.  You might think that sounded dangerous, with his mouthful of fangs, but he was as gentle as a kitten when he began licking me.  His lapping tongue was attentive to my folds, mapping out the petals of my vulva, probing my hole, dragging over my clit and exploring every little crevice.  I bounced on top of him and came with a cry, throwing back my head; he made me want to howl, the way he worshipped me with his mouth!

When he was finished, I retrieved the harness and strapped it back on, climbing onto the bed to slap Mike’s backside with the dildo, bouncing it off the skin, giving him a taste of its weight.

We had both been taken care of once, but the night was young, and I knew Mike needed me.  I stayed up with him, alternating between pleasure and pain, beating his ass with a belt and then offering him the dildo.  The straight jacket kept his arms by his sides, his dangerous, clawed hands away from me, but I don’t really think it mattered.  He understood his place, and he obeyed my commands with deferential reverence.  He sat up and begged when I asked; he rolled over so I could pet his tummy (and his cock, too, of course)!  He fetched my whip and presented his ass for me, accepting that he had to receive pain before pleasure.  When I ordered him to stay, he stayed, even when I tried to tempt or tease him by pressing my firm, heavy, round breasts into his face, or when I teased his hole with the end of the whip. 

When I went to the kitchen around midnight to get a glass of water, he followed at my heels, perfectly trained; I helped him drink, knowing he needed to stay hydrated, and he accepted the help, too, growling out what might have been a thank-you, although it was hard to tell.  He ate snacks from my hand, his lips soft on my palm, but there was none of the dangerous, vicious attitude he’d had when he had first transformed.

Mike, as a human, had always been a quick learner; as a werewolf, he was likewise inclined to figure out and follow the rules quickly.  Some things, I guess, never change.  Mike’s outward appearance might have been dangerous, but deep in his head, he was still a submissive who wanted a strong woman in charge, and not even the curse of lycanthropy could change that.

If anything, the transformation had heightened all his senses, making him insatiable.  That night, I channeled his ravenous hunger into sexual hunger, and it was amazing.  Nearly ten hours of attending to his cock, of working his body over with floggers and paddles and dragon tongues, of letting him service me.  What a workout!  I took off the harness only a few times, to give him access to my pussy, but most of the night I wore it to show my dominance, the thick, heavy cock keeping Mike ever aware of who the boss was. 

By the time morning dawned, he had climaxed four times, and he was a limp, quivering puddle, completely helpless and harmless.  Just as I had wanted.

The sun broke over the horizon and through my bedroom curtains.  Hazy autumn sunlight spilled across the bedspread, and before my eyes, Mike’s body rippled.  The hair receded, and so did the tail.  His teeth retracted; his ears rounded; the collar loosened as his muscles returned to their normal size.  And, blinking, the yellow drained from his eyes, leaving warm, chocolate brown in their place.

“…Mike?” I asked, softly.  “…are you okay?”

I took his face in my hands; he was shiny with sweat, and his eyes were full of gratitude.

“You stayed with me,” he said.

“Of course, I did.  I wasn’t going to let you go through that, all by yourself.  …you should have told me.”

“I didn’t know how.”

I kissed his forehead.  “It’s okay.”

“…really?  It’s okay, that I’m– a werewolf?”

I laughed.  “Mike, that was the craziest night I ever had, and just in time for Halloween.  Trust me, it’s better than okay.  …Rachel is going to be so jealous when I tell her I pegged the wolf-man!”

Mike groaned.  “Please don’t tell her.”

I grinned.  “I’m gonna tell her,” I teased, climbing off the bed.  I left the harness on, the bobbing dildo a reminder of what Mike had taken so many times during the night.  He blushed as he looked at it, but I could tell he was proud of his stamina, too.

“Do you want some breakfast?” I asked.  “I can go down to the store, get you a can of dog food… kidding!  I’ll make you an omelet,” I said, kissing his temple.  “Why don’t you take a shower?”

“Are you sure you don’t mind your apartment smelling like wet dog?” he joked back, seeming to relax when he realized I didn’t feel any differently about him after discovering his secret.

He climbed off the bed, and I helped him out of the straight jacket.  He stretched his human limbs, groaning a little, and then reached up to take off the collar.

I put my hand over his.  “No, no.  Leave it on,” I said.  I turned to walk to the kitchen, my cock bouncing between my legs.  I looked back over my shoulder at Mike, tossing my hair a little, examining the way he looked with the dog collar around his neck.  “I kinda like it.  …it just needs a tag.”

“A tag?” said Mike, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, you know, in case you ever get lost,” I said, grinning.  “Property of Geena; if found, return to owner!”

The End