When your ex is a werewolf

[Brandnewbuddy]

as always: bipedal werewolf, not just a big wolf.

So this is an idea I had and I was wanting to try and commision a VA to do an audio recording of but I think it might work better as a story and then come up with a script

Anyway, couple breaks up. Maybe they had a huge fight, they fell out of love, infidelity, etc. in any case, it ended.

Thing is though: one of the partners was a werewolf. Other partner knew and was fine with it, even having sex with their werewolf form.

So one day when human partner is down in the dumps, they hear a scratching on the door and find their transformed partner at the door, begging to be let in. They can’t resist those puppy dog eyes and wind up not only letting them in but also sleeping with them. Next morning, they come to next to their ex who is pissed and has no idea how they got there.

I figure the story could go one of two ways:

1. Ex and their werewolf persona are seperate people. So if a relationship is continuing it’s either only with the werewolf side and ex begrudgingly allows it, or it’s behind ex’s back. MC hooks up with werewolf but then has to make sure they are back home before they change back.

2. Ex is either fully aware and is lying or the werewolf is effectively acting on their suconcious desire for the relationship to continue. Ex isn’t willing to admit it so they instead slink off while transformed and pretend they aren’t aware while trying to hook up with MC.

 

[Rob_Royale]

It's actually a rather romantic idea. The wolf is empathic, more intuned emotionally. The ww is still in love with the ex, but their human side refuses to acknowledge it. When the now human ww wakes up in their ex's bed they are both pissed and secretly elated. The foundation for a very emotional story.

 

[NotUnperson]

As long as you don’t go with the cliched “werewolves are dogs” jokes.

“You don’t need silver bullets; just a rolled-up newspaper!” And so on.

 

[VerbalAbuse]

 

[GlennJenko]

View attachment 2507791

This image has actually given me an idea.

What if the werewolf's human form is a woman with all the appropriate parts, but when she transforms, her wolf form has a penis? It could then be that the werewolf and human woman broke up because the ww thought her partner was only with her for the wolf side and the dick (the human would need to be bisexual), and the human had gotten tired of trying to prove she loved every side of her partner.

I also thus like the idea that if not distinct personalities, the hormonal changes of shifting mean the wolf side has less inhibitions so lets herself go with her ex. It can then add to the tension when she wakes up in human form, again thinking that her ex only wanted her for the wolf's dick. The human would then need to show that that's not the case at all.

 

[VerbalAbuse]

 

[PennyThompson]

as always: bipedal werewolf, not just a big wolf.

So this is an idea I had and I was wanting to try and commision a VA to do an audio recording of but I think it might work better as a story and then come up with a script

Anyway, couple breaks up. Maybe they had a huge fight, they fell out of love, infidelity, etc. in any case, it ended.

Thing is though: one of the partners was a werewolf. Other partner knew and was fine with it, even having sex with their werewolf form.

So one day when human partner is down in the dumps, they hear a scratching on the door and find their transformed partner at the door, begging to be let in. They can’t resist those puppy dog eyes and wind up not only letting them in but also sleeping with them. Next morning, they come to next to their ex who is pissed and has no idea how they got there.

I figure the story could go one of two ways:

1. Ex and their werewolf persona are seperate people. So if a relationship is continuing it’s either only with the werewolf side and ex begrudgingly allows it, or it’s behind ex’s back. MC hooks up with werewolf but then has to make sure they are back home before they change back.

2. Ex is either fully aware and is lying or the werewolf is effectively acting on their suconcious desire for the relationship to continue. Ex isn’t willing to admit it so they instead slink off while transformed and pretend they aren’t aware while trying to hook up with MC.

This could be fairly adorable, a lot of options for exploring the conflicting emotions of ended relationships

The werewolf is sort of a metaphor for not being able to let go of someone. In some ways you still love them, and you miss aspects of them including the intimate times you shared, but the relationship wasn't nourishing or growing for either of you.

A fundamental mismatch in life goals, for example. Your partner wants to settle down in your home town and start a family, you want to leave to pursue an education or a career in the city. It's hard, but sometimes two good people just aren't right for each other

But part of you wishes you could just... Turn into a werewolf and rip off your clothes and run through the darkness and go back to them, just for a night. And part of them wants to let you in, and hold you again even though they know you'll turn back to your normal self and be gone by morning.

I'm not crying, you're crying!!

 

[PennyThompson]

It’s getting dark. The last gloaming light turns from blue, to amber, to peach, to purple, back to blue again, deeper, darker, and finally black. I don’t see many stars, too much city light. But I know they’re up there, far above both our skies.

And the Moon is there, swollen and full, pale, bright enough to overpower the street lights and traffic lights and office lights of the city towers. I moved here for education, for work, for culture, opportunity. I left you behind, you didn’t want to move, didn’t want to change, content with the life we had in that dying town, empty main street, overgrown baseball field. I left, you stayed, the Moon came with me.

I slip out into the hallway of my apartment, down the back stairwell, into the alley. Wearing only a robe, barefoot, the soles of my feet filthy from the dusty stairs. I change. My arms lengthen and stretch, shoulder muscles bunch and knot and shift. I untie the robe with my quickly sharpening fingers, let it fall in a soft pile on the ground.

I shiver in the cold air, goosebumps prickling at the sudden exposure, nipples hardening, areolas crinkling. My breasts swell and expand luxuriously, I gasp and grab them with my paws and squeeze them pleasurably. A second pair of dark nipples erupts from my stomach below my normal human pair, growing to a petite half-handful, followed by a third pair of smaller, tender buds.

You used to love my breasts when I was human, used to sneak up behind me and cup them in your strong hands, towering over me, breathing on my neck. You used to love them on the Moon night too, running your hands up and down my sides, feeling each in turn, nipping at them with your teeth and making me growl.

My black, short-cropped hair lengthens, coarsens, turning into a shaggy mane, expanding down my now-muscular back and spreading across my body, soon covering me head to toe in a thick dark fur. The soles of my feet stretch and shift until I’m standing on thick-padded clawed toes, digitigrade.

I feel my nose and lips and mouth grow into a short muzzle, my teeth pushing out of my jaw into razor sharp fangs. A tail sprouts from just above the cleft of my round bottom, long and strong.

I drop to all fours and start running, a slow steady loping gait as I slip from dark alley to dark alley, making no sound, easily avoiding people and cars, knowing them by sound and smell long before they can see me.

Soon enough I’m at the edge of the city, that flotsam zone of industrial parks and storage centers, train yards and empty lots. Then I’m beyond the city lights, in the scrub land where suburbs haven’t yet expanded to fill. I pick up speed, claws finding purchase in the dry soil, running faster and faster until I’m a dark blur on the landscape.

I feel my heat growing suddenly in my dark cunt, nestled in a thick scruff of fur, pulsing in time with my heartbeat. I have a gnawing hunger, not to hunt or to eat, but to be filled again with you.

I dimly realize what’s happening, what direction I’m heading, only now aware of my course and destination. I should turn around, head into the mountain range to the west, or the forest to the south. Spend the night chasing deer, smelling pine, tasting blood.

But I keep on my course, back to our hometown. Back to the cracked cul-de-sac with the flickery buzzy street lights. Back to your little house with the peeling paint and the broken garage door. Back to you.

 

[Rob_Royale]

It’s getting dark. The last gloaming light turns from blue, to amber, to peach, to purple, back to blue again, deeper, darker, and finally black. I don’t see many stars, too much city light. But I know they’re up there, far above both our skies.

And the Moon is there, swollen and full, pale, bright enough to overpower the street lights and traffic lights and office lights of the city towers. I moved here for education, for work, for culture, opportunity. I left you behind, you didn’t want to move, didn’t want to change, content with the life we had in that dying town, empty main street, overgrown baseball field. I left, you stayed, the Moon came with me.

I slip out into the hallway of my apartment, down the back stairwell, into the alley. Wearing only a robe, barefoot, the soles of my feet filthy from the dusty stairs. I change. My arms lengthen and stretch, shoulder muscles bunch and knot and shift. I untie the robe with my quickly sharpening fingers, let it fall in a soft pile on the ground.

I shiver in the cold air, goosebumps prickling at the sudden exposure, nipples hardening, areolas crinkling. My breasts swell and expand luxuriously, I gasp and grab them with my paws and squeeze them pleasurably. A second pair of dark nipples erupts from my stomach below my normal human pair, growing to a petite half-handful, followed by a third pair of smaller, tender buds.

You used to love my breasts when I was human, used to sneak up behind me and cup them in your strong hands, towering over me, breathing on my neck. You used to love them on the Moon night too, running your hands up and down my sides, feeling each in turn, nipping at them with your teeth and making me growl.

My black, short-cropped hair lengthens, coarsens, turning into a shaggy mane, expanding down my now-muscular back and spreading across my body, soon covering me head to toe in a thick dark fur. The soles of my feet stretch and shift until I’m standing on thick-padded clawed toes, digitigrade.

I feel my nose and lips and mouth grow into a short muzzle, my teeth pushing out of my jaw into razor sharp fangs. A tail sprouts from just above the cleft of my round bottom, long and strong.

I drop to all fours and start running, a slow steady loping gait as I slip from dark alley to dark alley, making no sound, easily avoiding people and cars, knowing them by sound and smell long before they can see me.

Soon enough I’m at the edge of the city, that flotsam zone of industrial parks and storage centers, train yards and empty lots. Then I’m beyond the city lights, in the scrub land where suburbs haven’t yet expanded to fill. I pick up speed, claws finding purchase in the dry soil, running faster and faster until I’m a dark blur on the landscape.

I feel my heat growing suddenly in my dark cunt, nestled in a thick scruff of fur, pulsing in time with my heartbeat. I have a gnawing hunger, not to hunt or to eat, but to be filled again with you.

I dimly realize what’s happening, what direction I’m heading, only now aware of my course and destination. I should turn around, head into the mountain range to the west, or the forest to the south. Spend the night chasing deer, smelling pine, tasting blood.

But I keep on my course, back to our hometown. Back to the cracked cul-de-sac with the flickery buzzy street lights. Back to your little house with the peeling paint and the broken garage door. Back to you.

What can I say? Perfect.

 

[PennyThompson]

What can I say? Perfect.

Ughhh, I have other stories I'm trying to write, I've got a series I'm trying to wrap up... But this thing is pouring out of me now, I think I'm going to have to finish it

 

[Rob_Royale]

Ughhh, I have other stories I'm trying to write, I've got a series I'm trying to wrap up... But this thing is pouring out of me now, I think I'm going to have to finish it

Or save it for next years 750 challenge.

 

[PennyThompson]

Or save it for next years 750 challenge.

Too late, it's already almost 2,000 words... It's just going to have to go out as a sad werewolf one-shot, and damn the consequences

 

[Rob_Royale]

Too late, it's already almost 2,000 words... It's just going to have to go out as a sad werewolf one-shot, and damn the consequences

I just followed you. Can't wait to read it.

 

[Brandnewbuddy]

Too late, it's already almost 2,000 words... It's just going to have to go out as a sad werewolf one-shot, and damn the consequences

Can’t wait, what you’ve written so far is amazing!

 

[PennyThompson]

Can’t wait, what you’ve written so far is amazing!

Well, it's up, Full Moon Blues!

 

[LisaMayTurner]

My ex often used to dress up as animals as it added fun to our sexlife. He had a "Big Bad Wolf" outfit that he often used to wear when "mounting me up" on his "big horny wolf cock" with me dressed as Little red Riding Hood and I know it made him go a bit more wild, and especially wilder than when he dressed as a bunny or as a fox. We made the outfits ourselves from fabrics and cornflake boxes with the heads coming from a fancy dress store in London.