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walls of the air-conditioned gym. Pumping iron and pushing his body to its limit and beyond is just what he needs to do to get his mind off work but, when his body begins to change in the middle of his workout, he learns that there is far more to being a man than humanity can contain.\n\nSometimes, one has to simply unleash the beast within.\n\n\n\n---\n\n\n\nThank you for reading! This story is available worldwide on Kindle and Smashwords, a re-published tale mainly available for those who just follow my work through the eBook sites and and also, of course, those who would simply like to support! Thank you!\n\n\nKindle (US): https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07D6T4SRV\nSmashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/831764\n\n\n\nThank you for reading!\n\nIf you enjoyed this story, please take a look at my website, where similar stories are listed by kink!\n\nhttps://alismitsy.wordpress.com/\n\n\nAll new releases will be announced via my Twitter account!\n\nalismitsy\n\nPlease let me know if you enjoyed this tale! I hope to write many more for you!","description_bbcode_parsed":"Morle knows what he needs to do after a rough day at work and his solace ever will lie in the calming walls of the air-conditioned gym. Pumping iron and pushing his body to its limit and beyond is just what he needs to do to get his mind off work but, when his body begins to change in the middle of his workout, he learns that there is far more to being a man than humanity can contain.
Sometimes, one has to simply unleash the beast within.
---
Thank you for reading! This story is available worldwide on Kindle and Smashwords, a re-published tale mainly available for those who just follow my work through the eBook sites and and also, of course, those who would simply like to support! Thank you!
Kindle (US): https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07D6T4SRV
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/831764
Thank you for reading!
If you enjoyed this story, please take a look at my website, where similar stories are listed by kink!
https://alismitsy.wordpress.com/
All new releases will be announced via my Twitter account!
alismitsy
Please let me know if you enjoyed this tale! I hope to write many more for you!","writing":"Working out the Beast\nReleasing the Wolf\n\n\n\nMorle gripped the steering wheel until his hands trembled on the cool vinyl, the fixed object unable to do more than twitch back and forth from left to right in his grasp. His car travelled quickly down the road, stars pricking into life high above as twilight claimed the land. He swore at nothing, glaring at the road as if it had personally caused him affront, sparing a glance for the reflection in the rear view mirror. His brown hair had become tousled over the course of the day, as rebellious as ever - having the windows down didn?t help much either. He supposed he was lucky he kept it so short, so any mess it made of itself was contained.\n\nHe sighed, needing to dunk his head under a nice cold shower. He growled, drawing the sound up to the back of his throat. That would come later. But it sounded like exactly what he needed to make the shit of the day do a runner.\n\nHe shook his head, jaw clenched. Pain blossomed at the hinge of his jaw, but he ignored it, growling and slamming the heel of his hand into the steering wheel. He pushed through another corner, growling as an old farmer at the end of a long day pulled onto the road, moving far too slowly and far too close for comfort. An aggressive downshift, accelerator nailed to the floor and a quick twitch of the steering wheel drove the heavy four wheel drive around the rolling roadblock. As he pulled back onto the correct side of the road, he shifted back into top gear and watched the old farmer disappear quickly into the gloom in his mirrors.\n\nGrinding his teeth, he tried not to think of the workplace, the office he?d left at his back. But anger spilled in regardless, a molten stream charring the pit of his stomach, smoke curling up the back of his throat. He snarled, a feral sound ripping itself from his lips. Just what was wrong with them? What was so hard about work that he had to spend hour after hour there after his day was done? And on a Sunday night - what of that? Was he that important that he couldn?t go home to his partner on time?\n\nOf course not. He was just a cog in their machine. A very efficient cog, truth be told, and one that worked harder than all the rest of them, but a cog all the same.\n\nHe turned up the radio, letting the scream of metal wash over him like a deluge of water. Yet it didn?t help as it usually did.\n\nSomething pulled in his chest, anger roiling to greater peaks, neck flushed with blood in hot, furious patches. She?d been waiting for him - probably waiting up too. And yet, here he was, driving home in the dark after being made to be late again. It was always the same story. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, sending his wife a short message to let her know where he was and not to worry.\n\nTeeth bared, he inched his foot down on the accelerator, picking up speed until the Australian bush flashed past him in a gloomy blur, briefly illuminated by his headlights before being plunged back into inky darkness. He flew around the familiar corners on maximum attack, knowing every bump and inch of the road. He shouldn?t have been going that fast, but he couldn?t find it in himself to care in the moment as the long road poured out before him.\n\nApproaching his favourite set of corners, his attention sharpened as he braked hard and downshifted. The four wheel drive drifted to within millimetres of the left edge of the road, then dived hard right into the apex of the corner with its tyres howling as they clipped the reflectors in the centre of the road; he revved the engine and let the vehicle run wide to the edge of the road, settling the balance for the sweeping bends over the bridge. Blasting out of the uphill blind exit, he slowed slightly, aware of just how much faster than the speed limit he was travelling.\n\nHis shoulder blades throbbed with tension. It would be okay. He?d be back in his hometown soon and would be able to get through it. He always did. It would all come right again, as long as he kept going, one foot in front of the other.\n\nThankfully, there was one place he could go every day to get rid of his problems. Or at least tame them, if but for a little while.\n\nAs buildings flickered into sight, lights glimmering through the murk of dusk, he exhaled softly, though it did little to release the tightness in his chest. The gym was set on the outskirts of town as it thought itself an outcast, but it could not be faulted for being open twenty-four hours each and every day of the year. Morle shivered: his one solace.\n\nHe pulled up into the car park, already lunging for his gym bag, tucked away on the back seat. Scrabbling for it, he cursed and hurled himself bodily out of the car, skin prickling as if set alight. The night was cooling rapidly and yet he burned, angry sweat trickling down the lines of muscle in his back, sticking his work shirt to his skin. He shrugged, pushing it back from his skin with a muffled grunt and an eye roll. It soon wouldn?t be a problem he cared about.\n\nEmpty - blessedly so. He inhaled deeply as he stepped into the gym, doors sliding shut at his heels. Air conditioning ruffled his hair, too cool for comfort for most until they got moving. He slipped into one of the changing cubicles and replaced his clothes hastily, eager to get going. He needed no self-encouragement to jump onto the rowing machine, position close to the ground, and jump straight into his warm up with his headphones tucked firmly into his ears, music blaring.\n\nThe repetitive motion soothed the edge of his frustration, muscles warming as he tried to lose himself. It should have been easier than it was, but, minute by minute, he could not find any change in his mental state. Grinding his teeth, he rowed quicker and quicker, upping the resistance until sweat poured slickly down his back. He pushed himself harder, groaning deep in the back of his throat as he chased the high he so desperately sought, legs and arms screaming.\n\nIt wasn?t enough. It wasn?t anywhere near enough.\n\nBut a warm up couldn?t last forever and, as calming as he had thought it was, his shoulders still rolled forward heavily with tension that he didn?t think rowing would be kind enough to release. He took a deep breath through his nostrils, chest expanding with air.\n\nRight...\n\nThe word was supposed to psyche him up, get him in the correct mind for working out, yet all it did was draw further attention to the twisting anger roiling in his stomach. He growled and threw his hands up as he jumped off the rowing machine, cable retreating with an indignant snap. Well, if cardio wasn?t going to get him going, he sure as hell hoped he knew what would.\n\nThe barbell gleamed lightly under the overhead lighting strips, left out on the Olympic lifting matting as if it had been waiting for him. Sliding a plate - enough to be challenging - on to either end and securing them with a couple of metal clamps, Morle set up for a conventional deadlift, back braced and shoulder blades pushed back to support the weight. He closed his fingers firmly around the bar and brought it up smoothly, hinging at his hips.\n\nOne...two...three...four...five...six reps.\n\nHe changed his grip with each repetition, one overhand and one underhand, as he forced the weight to move. His back strained to brace and he hissed out a grunt through his teeth, louder than he would have been if the gym had been populated. He finished the last rep with a heavy grunt and a gasp, all air rushing from his lungs as his head spun and the burning in his chest retreated, if but a step.\n\nBetter. He curled and uncurled the fingers of his right hand, digits tingling. Just a little bit better. He paced around the lifting mats in a circle, growling like an animal as he shook his head as if to clear it, circling the same spot over and over again.\n\nIt was a blessing of the quiet gym that he was able to tackle his back session in exactly the way he liked it, so, rather than burning out his lower back on deadlifts in the first round, he headed to the pull up bars. He didn?t pause to grab a box to stand on, instead leaping confidently for the bars and latching his fingers around the nearest one. Dangling, he set his shoulders back and grunted as he drew his body up until his chin poked over the top of the bar.\n\nAgain.\n\nHe raised and lowered his body several times, losing track of the reps as he forced himself to that point where his arms no longer wanted to support his weight, back thrumming with too much temporary pain to complete another rep. Hanging as low as he could go without releasing the bar, he stretched out his back, arching into the light swing of his body. His arm itched and he grunted as he twisted, trying and failing to rub it with his face. And then he stilled, bar the natural sway of his body adjusting and accounting for his position hanging from the bar.\n\nWas that...fur tickling its way down his arms?\n\nHe baulked, eyes wide, as the fur spread, racing up under the sleeve of his t-shirt. Hanging there slack-jawed, he squirmed as it spread down his legs, trainers suddenly too tight on his feet. Morle yelped, muscle swelling beneath his shirt and shorts so that his clothing strained at the very limits of its seams, threatening to burst. His face bulged out and out, a long, black snout pushing from his face as if it belonged there. Teeth sharpened, curving into fangs and the half-human half-wolf howled, tipping back his muzzle as he dropped to the matting with a solid thump.\n\nEnd teaser.\n\nThank you for reading! This story is available worldwide on Kindle and Smashwords!\n\nKindle (US): HYPERLINK \"https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07D6T4SRV\" https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07D6T4SRV \n\nSmashwords: HYPERLINK \"https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/831764\" https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/831764 \n\nThank you for reading!\n\n \n\nIf you enjoyed this story, please take a look at my website, where similar stories are listed by kink!\n\n HYPERLINK \"https://alismitsy.wordpress.com/\" https://alismitsy.wordpress.com/ \n\n \n\nAll new releases will be announced via my Twitter account!\n\n@alismitsy\n\nPlease let me know if you enjoyed this tale! I hope to write many more for you!\n\nIf you enjoyed this story, you may also like...\n\nLatex Transformation: From Man to Dragon Seductress\n\n HYPERLINK \"https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07CV1NN91\" https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07CV1NN91 \n\nKieran didn?t think that a suit could change his life so dramatically, but the latex costume that consumes him whole, changing him into a lustful dragon seductress has far more in store for him than a modicum of kinky bedroom play. There is far more to his story - her story - than meets the eye as she becomes the sexy latex dragoness she was always meant to be.\n\nMale to female, gender twisted into one?s true form, Kira embarks on a needy quest to find a male who will sate her desires to the very core of her being...\n\nBut who will the dragoness take for her own?\n\nTribal Transformation: Purity Sacrificed to a Gryphon \n\n HYPERLINK \"https://www.amazon.com/dp/B072JBR41Z\" https://www.amazon.com/dp/B072JBR41Z \n\nMeo and Linos have lusted after one another for many years as they became adults, yet not adults in the eyes of a tribe that must permit them an ascension ceremony before becoming fully fledged members. But there is no reason for Linos to choose her when he has his ceremony: she is far from the strongest hunter or the most beautiful woman.\n\nBut will she be the one he loves the most?\n\nAnd the ascension ceremony has another, more subtle note. Gryphons walk among humans in this ancient tribe and only the chosen few will transform into gryphons when their time comes. Will it be Linos? Will it be Meo? Will their love survive their changing status and relationship, or will they never sacrifice their innocence to one another?\n\nOnly the tribal ceremony will tell.\n\nHis Secret Desire to be a Latex Cat: Transformed by a Genie into Female Form\n\n HYPERLINK \"https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07116KRJP\" https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07116KRJP \n\nA young man wanders into a little known shop selling antiques, only to find a pot with powers beyond his wildest imagination. What does he desire? What could he possibly do with untold, albeit tricksy, power? Only the limits of his imagination and the most lustful corners of his heart will tell.\n\nTransforming into a woman and sauntering out on the prowl is only the beginning, as her skin smoothes out into a sheen of latex and men take notice of her in their hordes. Yet her fate is far from sealed...\n\nAn erotic furry tale containing humans and anthros.\n\nBecoming a Latex Cat: A Gender Swapping Tale of Transformation\n\n HYPERLINK \"https://www.amazon.com/dp/B06Y4H9N8Z\" https://www.amazon.com/dp/B06Y4H9N8Z \n\nOn vacation with his girlfriend, a young man learns that there is a lot more to her than meets the eye, the world of the supernatural just beyond her fingertips. To take hold of magic, she only has to reach out and take it, sometimes even imbuing the most innocent, or not, of objects with a secret touch, such as the collar she gives him to reveal his most deeply hidden desires.\n\nShe expected him to become a woman, to feel what it is to turn a sensual sway to one?s hips, but she didn?t expect what came next and for the tables to be turned by her normally submissive partner.\n\nIt will be a long night of pleasure for both as they explore the limits of the collar and just what this little magical tool may do for them within the realms of the bedroom...\n\nBecoming a Gryphon Hen: Transformed and Seeded by Brother Gryphons \n\n HYPERLINK \"https://www.amazon.com/dp/B06XWZW2FT\" https://www.amazon.com/dp/B06XWZW2FT \n\nWhen a woman hunts too far from her village, she is hardly surprised to come upon a pair of gryphons, the very reason that few of the men stray far from her village at all anymore. Thinking her life is over, she fights to the bitter end - go down swinging whatever weapons she has at her disposal, she thinks to herself in the pit of despair. But the gryphon brothers are more than mere beasts and intent on more than simply devouring her...\n\nNo, that would be too easy. She must please the beasts as their new hen, transformed into one of them to save her own skin.\n\nFeathers look better anyway when you?re loving gryphons.\n\n","writing_bbcode_parsed":"Working out the Beast
Releasing the Wolf
Morle gripped the steering wheel until his hands trembled on the cool vinyl, the fixed object unable to do more than twitch back and forth from left to right in his grasp. His car travelled quickly down the road, stars pricking into life high above as twilight claimed the land. He swore at nothing, glaring at the road as if it had personally caused him affront, sparing a glance for the reflection in the rear view mirror. His brown hair had become tousled over the course of the day, as rebellious as ever - having the windows down didn?t help much either. He supposed he was lucky he kept it so short, so any mess it made of itself was contained.
He sighed, needing to dunk his head under a nice cold shower. He growled, drawing the sound up to the back of his throat. That would come later. But it sounded like exactly what he needed to make the shit of the day do a runner.
He shook his head, jaw clenched. Pain blossomed at the hinge of his jaw, but he ignored it, growling and slamming the heel of his hand into the steering wheel. He pushed through another corner, growling as an old farmer at the end of a long day pulled onto the road, moving far too slowly and far too close for comfort. An aggressive downshift, accelerator nailed to the floor and a quick twitch of the steering wheel drove the heavy four wheel drive around the rolling roadblock. As he pulled back onto the correct side of the road, he shifted back into top gear and watched the old farmer disappear quickly into the gloom in his mirrors.
Grinding his teeth, he tried not to think of the workplace, the office he?d left at his back. But anger spilled in regardless, a molten stream charring the pit of his stomach, smoke curling up the back of his throat. He snarled, a feral sound ripping itself from his lips. Just what was wrong with them? What was so hard about work that he had to spend hour after hour there after his day was done? And on a Sunday night - what of that? Was he that important that he couldn?t go home to his partner on time?
Of course not. He was just a cog in their machine. A very efficient cog, truth be told, and one that worked harder than all the rest of them, but a cog all the same.
He turned up the radio, letting the scream of metal wash over him like a deluge of water. Yet it didn?t help as it usually did.
Something pulled in his chest, anger roiling to greater peaks, neck flushed with blood in hot, furious patches. She?d been waiting for him - probably waiting up too. And yet, here he was, driving home in the dark after being made to be late again. It was always the same story. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, sending his wife a short message to let her know where he was and not to worry.
Teeth bared, he inched his foot down on the accelerator, picking up speed until the Australian bush flashed past him in a gloomy blur, briefly illuminated by his headlights before being plunged back into inky darkness. He flew around the familiar corners on maximum attack, knowing every bump and inch of the road. He shouldn?t have been going that fast, but he couldn?t find it in himself to care in the moment as the long road poured out before him.
Approaching his favourite set of corners, his attention sharpened as he braked hard and downshifted. The four wheel drive drifted to within millimetres of the left edge of the road, then dived hard right into the apex of the corner with its tyres howling as they clipped the reflectors in the centre of the road; he revved the engine and let the vehicle run wide to the edge of the road, settling the balance for the sweeping bends over the bridge. Blasting out of the uphill blind exit, he slowed slightly, aware of just how much faster than the speed limit he was travelling.
His shoulder blades throbbed with tension. It would be okay. He?d be back in his hometown soon and would be able to get through it. He always did. It would all come right again, as long as he kept going, one foot in front of the other.
Thankfully, there was one place he could go every day to get rid of his problems. Or at least tame them, if but for a little while.
As buildings flickered into sight, lights glimmering through the murk of dusk, he exhaled softly, though it did little to release the tightness in his chest. The gym was set on the outskirts of town as it thought itself an outcast, but it could not be faulted for being open twenty-four hours each and every day of the year. Morle shivered: his one solace.
He pulled up into the car park, already lunging for his gym bag, tucked away on the back seat. Scrabbling for it, he cursed and hurled himself bodily out of the car, skin prickling as if set alight. The night was cooling rapidly and yet he burned, angry sweat trickling down the lines of muscle in his back, sticking his work shirt to his skin. He shrugged, pushing it back from his skin with a muffled grunt and an eye roll. It soon wouldn?t be a problem he cared about.
Empty - blessedly so. He inhaled deeply as he stepped into the gym, doors sliding shut at his heels. Air conditioning ruffled his hair, too cool for comfort for most until they got moving. He slipped into one of the changing cubicles and replaced his clothes hastily, eager to get going. He needed no self-encouragement to jump onto the rowing machine, position close to the ground, and jump straight into his warm up with his headphones tucked firmly into his ears, music blaring.
The repetitive motion soothed the edge of his frustration, muscles warming as he tried to lose himself. It should have been easier than it was, but, minute by minute, he could not find any change in his mental state. Grinding his teeth, he rowed quicker and quicker, upping the resistance until sweat poured slickly down his back. He pushed himself harder, groaning deep in the back of his throat as he chased the high he so desperately sought, legs and arms screaming.
It wasn?t enough. It wasn?t anywhere near enough.
But a warm up couldn?t last forever and, as calming as he had thought it was, his shoulders still rolled forward heavily with tension that he didn?t think rowing would be kind enough to release. He took a deep breath through his nostrils, chest expanding with air.
Right...
The word was supposed to psyche him up, get him in the correct mind for working out, yet all it did was draw further attention to the twisting anger roiling in his stomach. He growled and threw his hands up as he jumped off the rowing machine, cable retreating with an indignant snap. Well, if cardio wasn?t going to get him going, he sure as hell hoped he knew what would.
The barbell gleamed lightly under the overhead lighting strips, left out on the Olympic lifting matting as if it had been waiting for him. Sliding a plate - enough to be challenging - on to either end and securing them with a couple of metal clamps, Morle set up for a conventional deadlift, back braced and shoulder blades pushed back to support the weight. He closed his fingers firmly around the bar and brought it up smoothly, hinging at his hips.
One...two...three...four...five...six reps.
He changed his grip with each repetition, one overhand and one underhand, as he forced the weight to move. His back strained to brace and he hissed out a grunt through his teeth, louder than he would have been if the gym had been populated. He finished the last rep with a heavy grunt and a gasp, all air rushing from his lungs as his head spun and the burning in his chest retreated, if but a step.
Better. He curled and uncurled the fingers of his right hand, digits tingling. Just a little bit better. He paced around the lifting mats in a circle, growling like an animal as he shook his head as if to clear it, circling the same spot over and over again.
It was a blessing of the quiet gym that he was able to tackle his back session in exactly the way he liked it, so, rather than burning out his lower back on deadlifts in the first round, he headed to the pull up bars. He didn?t pause to grab a box to stand on, instead leaping confidently for the bars and latching his fingers around the nearest one. Dangling, he set his shoulders back and grunted as he drew his body up until his chin poked over the top of the bar.
Again.
He raised and lowered his body several times, losing track of the reps as he forced himself to that point where his arms no longer wanted to support his weight, back thrumming with too much temporary pain to complete another rep. Hanging as low as he could go without releasing the bar, he stretched out his back, arching into the light swing of his body. His arm itched and he grunted as he twisted, trying and failing to rub it with his face. And then he stilled, bar the natural sway of his body adjusting and accounting for his position hanging from the bar.
Was that...fur tickling its way down his arms?
He baulked, eyes wide, as the fur spread, racing up under the sleeve of his t-shirt. Hanging there slack-jawed, he squirmed as it spread down his legs, trainers suddenly too tight on his feet. Morle yelped, muscle swelling beneath his shirt and shorts so that his clothing strained at the very limits of its seams, threatening to burst. His face bulged out and out, a long, black snout pushing from his face as if it belonged there. Teeth sharpened, curving into fangs and the half-human half-wolf howled, tipping back his muzzle as he dropped to the matting with a solid thump.
End teaser.
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