Cris opened his bloodshot eyes, taking in the darkness before him. There was always darkness. Before him, lay an empty black void. The wolf turned his grey head, seeing nothing but the gloom behind him. He lay stretched upon a bed of solid, black stone. Always, that same oppressive monolith. Carved from a single slab of basalt, the rock was rough and unpolished, rubbing at his furry back as he shifted his wide, maternal hips. His flabby rump wobbled, sagging against the cool stone, the chill seeping through his pelt to kiss his hot, sweaty flesh. The wolf slowly brought a hand to his furry chest, his fingers exploring the swell of his ripe, milky breasts. The nipples ached, thrusting themselves from the bumpy areolas, wet with the warm trickle from fresh milk which ran freely between his trembling fingers. His fur was damp with the sweet scent of his own elixir, his sensitive buds demanding to be suckled, begging to be twisted and plucked. The darkened flesh was inflamed and red, still bearing the horrid fang marks left by his gruesome lover. Cris whimpered, letting his hand explore farther, dipping down towards his belly. 

His deflated stomach was soft, laying limp like an empty sack whose contents had so painfully been dumped out upon the floor. Cris’s fingers crept along the fur of his belly, grasping the folds of his stretched skin, the flesh striped by the angry, red wheals which came from so rapid a pregnancy. The wolf sobbed quietly, daring not to raise the attention of it. Crying, he had long ago learned, would accomplish nothing more than to stoke the monster’s ire. Then he would be punished. Always punished by the looming beast who materialized from the gloom. He drew his long, shapely legs to his rump, rolling to his side as he shivered there upon that black slab. Hugging his knees to his bloated chest, he tucked his muzzle between his legs and wept. His hands ran down his wet thighs, finding the object of his horror. His flower, his maiden petals, lay quivering at his touch. Wet and shimmering in the darkness, they leaked the mucus and slime of his recent labor. The slab was still damp with the slick residue of birth. Twin trails of shining ooze led to the edge of the stone bed and disappeared into the ever present darkness which surrounded him. 

“This is all wrong,” he sobbed. “I-I’m not supposed to be here. I’m not supposed to look like this.”

The wolf’s sobs set his body to tremble. Where once his wide shoulders and masculine form were the envy of every wolfess and vixen in town, now there jiggled soft flesh and the ripe curves of a female in her prime. His tail hung lifeless behind him as he continued to weep, his face buried into his knees. How much longer, he thought, could he go on like this? A tingle of raw ice traced its way up his spine, for he knew that he would be coming. Already, the gloom was parting, the sky becoming like that of a great, purple bruise above him. Cris raised his head from his knees, his heart thudding in his chest. Slowly, he unfolded his limbs, pushing himself up into a sitting position upon that stone bed. The cold rock prickled at the pads of his palms, his eyes watching, waiting for it to show. Cris gulped, feeling the tightness in his belly as the creature began to form from the fathomless ether. 

“You are eager to see me?” came a stentorian bellow. 

From the blackness of the shadow came a creature of utter horror. Tall, taller than Cris, it stalked on clawed feet. Its muscles were as tree trunks, slithering beneath coal black flesh which shone in the grey light that emanated seemingly from nowhere. Veins of blistering orange, like living flames, pulsed along the swell of powerful biceps and the monstrous thighs which stomped towards the stone bed. Its head was broad, the wide set eyes the color of fresh blood. Twin horns adorned that awful head, curving like that of scimitars. A long, black tail swooshed behind the demon as it approached. Cris began to shrink back, though he knew that to try and escape the beast would only lead to folly. Such attempts were made on the first night. He had learned quickly, by the second night, that to try and flee from the creature would only end in greater torment. Instead, the wolf brought his knees to his chin and whimpered. His dripping pussy was revealed between his thighs, leaking the fragrant nectar of his body’s desires. Though he sat in revulsion of the demon who now placed a wide palm on the edge of the stone slab, his body could not offer resistance to the throbbing pillar of masculine power which rose up from the demon’s pelvis. 

The iron rod of black flesh stood majestically in all its horrific glory. Veins of bright lava pulsed along the dark flesh, pumping whatever vile lifeblood the monster possessed. Its manhood swelled, the spongy tip a vast, orange spearhead, ready to thrust once more into Cris’s soft bloom. The wolf shuddered, horrified by the sight of the weeping tip which leaked its sulfurous precum to sizzle like acid upon the black basalt as the nightmare placed one knee upon the slab. 

“You have given birth, already,” said the demon. “Now, I see that you are ripe and ready for another.”

“Please,” whimpered Cris. “I can’t take this any longer. Just let me go.”

Tears stung at the corners of the wolf’s eyes as he dared to raise his gaze to meet those impassive, crimson orbs. The demon would feel no pity, it never did. If any emotion did stir in that black lump it called a heart, then only lust remained. Cris wept as he felt his legs beginning to part. The scents of brimstone and the stale odor of sweat tingled in his nose as the oppressive reek of the demon’s raw musk overwhelmed his senses. His blossom gushed with the sweet honey of his desires, his womb growing excited within his belly, stirring with the need to be taken by this towering brute who was now bringing its hands to Cris’s yielding body. 

“Ah,” sighed the demon. “Yes, you are so ready, my sweet.”

Its fingers came to Cris’s wet womanhood, two claws curling to caress the battered lips, still bruised and tender from his latest birth. Talons of gleaming ebony traced the delicate petals of the lupine’s flower, setting Cris to shiver in horrifying ecstasy. His thighs were parting wider now, offering himself fully to his terrifying lover. 

“Yes,” the demon moaned. It brought its dripping fingers to its snout, drinking in the warm spice of Cris’s pungent aroma, letting its massive body shudder in elation as the scent wafted down into its lungs. Its jaws parted, revealing the yellow fangs, the orange, lapping tongue. The inside of its mouth was like staring into a volcano, an explosion of bright flame that engulfed its black fingers as it suckled the juices from its claws. “Ah, magnificent.”

“I want to go home,” sobbed Cris. “Please, won’t you let me go?”

“Go?” The demon turned a ruby eye on the wolf. “But, my sweet, you are home.” It let out a booming laugh, like the striking of a drum, its great body shaking. “You belong to me now. Here, you shall stay. Bearing my shrieking offspring for all time.”

His cheeks smeared by tears, Cris could only shake his head in horror. “No… No, I won’t.”

“You will,” said the demon, taking hold of the shrinking wolf. Its breath was like that of burning steel, billowing against Cris’s fur. “You will and you will enjoy it.”

Rubbery, black lips descended, meeting the quivering mouth of the wolf in a kiss which sucked the very breath from Cris’s lungs. The ropy tongue, like living flame, would dart between his fangs, slithering along the red gums. The demon’s tongue curled, caressing the ridged palate of the wolf, savoring the smoothness of the lupine’s teeth. Cris stifled the urge to retch as the nauseating member slid down his throat. The taste on his pink tongue as he slid under the demon’s flesh was like that of hot soot. Brown saliva oozed from the corners of the creature’s maw, dribbling onto the wolf’s fur as Cris brought his hands up to splay across the broad, ebon chest. For all of his horror, his body would come alive in the demon’s grasp. His flower bloomed, weeping the hot nectar which rose up into a spicy fragrance to stir the throbbing rod of the demon. The creature gripped Cris harder, drawing the wolf to his chest. Cris fell into the beast’s arms with a whimper through his flaring nostrils. 

“Mmm,” he moaned. 

The wolf’s tongue twined around the orange tongue of the beast, stroking the rough flesh as the creature began to purr in a low, rumbling tone. The glowing manhood of the beast pressed against Cris’s deflated belly, leaving the sticky, shimmering traces of its infernal precum to mat the grey fur, as if to remind the wolf of what was to come. Cris’s body trembled, desiring nothing more than to be the fertile soil in which the monster would plant its seed. Despite his revulsion, he could not resist. Cris collapsed against the brute, his lips sliding from the gaping mouth of the fiend. The demon’s jaws then descended, cresting the delicate chin to claim the supple throat. Cris let his shaggy head fall back with a moan, exposing the curve of his neck to the fangs of the horror which held him. The creature would take its time, suckling the raw flesh, lowering itself down into the empty chalice that was the wolf’s collarbone. There, the beast did fill that cup with the unholy vigor of its lust. Hot, passionate desire tingled up Cris’s spine and the wolf let out a cry which echoed into the void, a song of animal need as the beast plunged from that overflowing chalice, falling between the sagging breasts of the wolf. 

“O-Oh,” cried Cris. His tail thumped against the stone slab. “Please, no more. I-I… Oh, yes.”

His mind bubbled, giddy with the otherworldly intoxication. Reason warred with aching desire as the wolf was borne to the slab, his back scratching against the rough basalt. Such a bed was not made for comfort and the wolf arched his back, thrusting his heaving breasts upwards so that their ripened stems did present themselves to the demon who held him firmly. The pink flesh was hard, poking up from the bumpy expanse of areolas grown to the size of saucers. Stretched and bloated, they leaked their sweet milk in white threads which seeped into the grey fur of Cris’s belly. Above him, the black shadow that was his vile lover did lower its awful head. Its crimson eyes fell shut, their horrid vermillion at last extinguished as the mouth of the beast would seek the ripe, weeping bud. The demon clutched Cris’s breast in one hand, squeezing so hard as to make the wolf cry out in pained elation. Tortuous ecstasy fizzed in his brain and Cris wept, knowing that he could not refuse. The demon was not gentle in its love, its fingers digging hard into the bruised flesh, pain and pleasure erupting in sparks of red and purple before Cris’s eyes. The rubbery lips descended, the orange tongue bright as a hot coal as it circled the areola, pausing only to flick the wet bud, to savor the sweet essence of the wolf. 

“U-Ugh,” Cris groaned.

His legs were rising, wrapping around the broad waist of the monster. The demon’s mouth closed around his leaking tit, suckling the milk which flowed so freely from the wolf’s breast. Cris’s body shuddered as the long, rough tongue lapped at his flesh, stirring the hot core of his desires so that his petals glistened with bright dew. His empty belly gurgled, the protests of a womb too long left unfilled. The wolf pressed his lips together in a thin line, tears streaming down his damp cheeks as he reached up, his arms twining around the thick neck, drawing the beast ever lower, like that of a lover, towards the softness of his sagging middle. The demon’s teeth bit sharply, Cris crying out in sudden shock. 

“Wonderful,” the creature whispered in a voice like that of smoke. 

That awful maw came away from Cris’s bloated tit, leaving behind a red ring of deep indentations in the wobbling flesh. Its tongue lolled from the drooling mouth, claiming the furry expanse of the wolf’s soft, empty belly. The flesh hung around the wide, feminine hips in loose folds, stretched by the wolf’s recent birth, the fluids not yet dry on the rough stone as the demon’s questing tongue slid languidly down the lupine’s shaking stomach. Cris moaned in narcotic pleasure, his mind hazy with the demon’s noxious love. The scents of brimstone and sulfur mingled in the fetid air with the raw musk of the brutish creature. For all of its horror, the beast was a magnificent specimen of masculine beauty. Its heavy muscles were seemingly carved from raw ebony, glimmering with the prickles of hot sweat which beaded upon the smooth, black flesh. The ripples of the powerful abdominals clenched as the beast exhaled, drawing the wolf’s eye down to the hairless pelvis where the throbbing rod of bright flame rose with the bitter temptations of its weeping tip. He found himself desiring that swollen rod, craving the burning of hot flesh as it scoured his womanhood, pumping forth the virile essence that would take root within this fecund womb. The wolf uttered a low sob, for in his horror, there was also a need to be taken by this fiend. 

The demon's tongue circled the wolf’s navel, caressing the furry flesh as it then descended down into that deep well. Cris’s clawed fingers raked the black flesh, but did little to leave a mark upon that leathery hide. The demon grunted in swinish glee, supping upon the open pit of Cris’s bellybutton. Its tongue slithered, twisting and turning, stirring the wolf into a boil which made the honey run from his gushing blossom. His rich scent rose from between his wet thighs, his shimmering nectar spilling between his legs to flow across the basalt slab. The demon plucked its tongue from the wolf’s navel, descending ever lower, seeking the tangled jungle that was Cris’s pubic fur. 

“Please,” Cris whispered. His voice was a low hiss from between his fangs. “Please.”

“Please?” The demon opened its eyes, enveloping the wolf in a baleful, scarlet gleam. “Yes, my sweet. I will please you. I will bring you to such exquisite delights that your mind will shatter from the sheer elation which will grip your mortal form.”

It seized the wolf’s rump, fingers digging into the jiggling flesh like fresh dough. 

“Yes, and you shall bear me yet more offspring. It is my desire and so it shall be yours as well.”

Cris blinked through the tears, his gaze daring to meet the red, sightless eyes of his fiendish love. How had he come to this place? Why was he now in such a feminine form? Such questions would remain unanswered as the demon’s mouth lowered itself into the fragrant tangle of his pubic fur. The broad, flat nose snuffled in the damp weave of Cris’s fur, drinking in the aroma of a female wolf in heat. His body was fertile, aching to be seeded with the virile essence of the brutish monster above him. His legs fell to his sides as the monster’s muzzle found the wet lobes of his battered pussy. Bruised, soft flesh quivered before the black, rubbery lips of the fiend. The demon’s tongue slid from its maw, caressing one such petal, tasting of the sweet honey which clung to the delicate folds. The creature groaned in pleasure, taking hold of Cris’s ankles, lifting the wolf up so that his hips rose up to the monster’s chin. The demon lowered its snout, nuzzling between Cris’s legs, savoring the fine elixir of the wolf’s need. That questing tongue came to the spreading petals, sliding effortlessly between them to plunge deep. 

Cris let out a shriek as the rough member speared his very core. His honey gushed, flowing across the demon’s tongue, making the creature go woozy, intoxicated by the gleeful desires of the screeching wolf. Cris dug his shaking fingers into the stone, his claws cracking as he dragged his hands across the black surface, leaving thin, white trails in their wake. The demon’s tongue curled, sliding back along the shuddering walls of the wolf’s vagina, slipping almost from those wet folds. But, the demon would just as quickly dart back down, crashing the gates of Cris’s womb. The wolf’s tongue clove to the roof of his mouth, his vision swimming, filling with the blotching sky above, the shape of the demon who held him in its arms. 

“A-Ah, yes,” the wolf sobbed. 

Slowly, the demon pulled back, circling, darting back down again. Never slowing, it would bring the wolf into such exquisite rapture that Cris found himself giving in to the creature’s coercion. He could no longer hope to resist as the beast would pluck its foul tongue from his gaping flower, allowing the richness of his honey to pour forth across that black slab, to stain the rough stone with his fragrant essence. The beast knelt on its knees, its throbbing member lowering, extending towards Cris so that the hot pillar of flesh did fall upon the wolf’s belly. The skin was like that of flame, hot to the touch, yet smooth as the finest silk. Cris found his claws clutching that fat shaft, taking into his hands as he struggled upright. On his hands and knees, the wolf brought that weeping tip to his lips, kissing the flowing urethra to leave the sticky shimmer of precum on his lips. His tongue slid from his mouth, licking the bitter tang as he pressed his mouth to that spongy tip once more. Below the demon’s cock was a pair of testicles the size of cannonballs. Each fattened with the fresh seed of the beast, plump fruits ready to burst as Cris’s hands slid down the veined flesh that encased that rigid pole. 

The wolf plucked his lips from the oozing tip, watching now in horrific fascination as the urethra began to stretch. A deep crease formed in the glowing, orange tip as the glans split, tearing apart to reveal rows of sharp, yellow teeth. Like the petals of some horrific flower, that second mouth spread open, the inner flesh lined with fangs as there waggled a slender, whipping tongue. 

“Kiss it,” commanded the demon. “Go on. Do it.”

Cris’s body trembled as he found himself taking up that grotesque limb. He could no more release his hands from that horrid member than he could summon the rain from the sky. Slowly, he brought that mouth to his muzzle. The stench of rot billowed from the spreading jaws, the tongue circling like a groping finger, seeking to caress the wolf’s yielding flesh as Cris brought the demon’s cock to his mouth. Suddenly, those jaws would clamp around his mouth, making the wolf give a startled grunt. The whipping tongue slipped between his teeth, circling his gums, lapping at his fangs as it dove down his throat. The wolf clung to the throbbing rod, striving to rip the fleshy jaws from his mouth lest he gag,  but his fingers lacked the strength. The demon’s second tongue slid back up his throat, caressing his tongue, forcing Cris to open his jaws as he moaned in grotesque jubilation. Then, with the bulging of orange, veined flesh, the demon’s cock did vomit forth a steaming spray of hot seed. Bitter like smoke, more pungent than raw brimstone, the vile brew bubbled and hissed on his tongue, his cheeks puffing comically as his mouth was filled with the virile essence of the demon. Cris gagged, spurting strings of semen between his lips to ooze down his chin as he then gulped the awful slime. It rolled down his throat, sliding into his empty belly to pool hot in his stomach. 

Above him, the demon chuckled, its hips bucking to send forth another ropy strand. Cris coughed, his belly filling too quickly, making him nearly retch as he at last would tear that oozing mouth from his jaws. The wolf fell backwards, letting the hot seed of the demon splatter onto his belly as the monster then placed its palms on either side over him. With one knee, the demon would spread Cris’s thighs, opening the wolf to that slobbering mouth with its lolling tongue. The demon’s cock drooled its sticky saliva, puddling between Cris’s legs as the long, slender tongue sought to lick his quivering lips. The vile touch would make the wolf’s skin crawl, yet he could not resist the sweet ministrations of the beast. Higher that tongue climbed, finding the firm bud of Cris’s clit. The agile member then circled, wrapping around that hardened nub, tugging ever so slightly to make the wolf submit. 

Cris laid himself on the slab, a sacrifice so willingly given, despite the horror which crept into his belly. His sagging stomach heaved, panting rapidly as heat bloomed in his cheeks. The nimble tongue of the demon’s frightful manhood then slipped from his sensitive nub, coming to thrust between the gaping lips as the wide tip met the wolf in a kiss which made the lupine howl. Slowly, those petals closed, becoming the fat bulge of spongy flesh which pressed against those weeping folds. Cris’s thighs opened wider, his fur crusted by the shimmering precum of the demon, by the fluids of birth and by his own sweet desires. The demon lowered itself, its swollen balls lying upon the stone as it bucked its hips, thrusting deep to swell the wolf’s belly with throbbing flesh.

Scorching heat blazed in his belly, his womb shuddering as the velvet tip rubbed so deliciously against his cervix. The wolf’s arms were around the neck of the fiend, his legs shaking as they closed around the broad waist. The demon’s hips bucked, sending forth a ripple of ecstasy up Cris’s spine. Faster, the demon moved, never slowing, never stopping. That slithering tongue licked at Cris’s core, stirring the wolf into a froth of elation as the demon pulled back. The tongue caressed his shuddering walls, his body closing around that bright member as the demon came in once more. 

“Five nights, I have taken you,” the demon whispered into his ear. “For five nights, you have been mine. Now, it is time.”

“Time?” moaned Cris. “Ungh, time for what?”

“It is time that I take you, my bride,” the demon said. 

The monster rose up, lifting Cris’s hips from the slab. Hot, bubbling seed began to gush from that gaping tip, flooding the eager womb of the wolf. Cris could only moan, weeping as his belly filled, wobbling like a balloon as his middle continued to expand. 

“Yes, you are mine,” said the demon, bucking its hips to let forth another strand. 

Cris’s belly lurched, stretching to its limit. His skin was so taut as to be nearly translucent, and yet he continued to grow. Already beyond full-term, he swelled to one carrying twins, then triplets. The wolf cried out, drool splattered from his mouth as he clutched his expanding belly. Pain, nauseating agony, lanced through him as his flesh began to creak. 

“A-Ah, I can’t take it,” he wailed. 

Red wheals of broken blood vessels spread across his flesh as the sky above sank into the deep ochre of spilled blood. The scents of iron tinged the air, the smell of blood as his flesh began to rip. 

“No,” screamed the wolf. “No, please, no!”

[center]***[/center]

The cool linoleum felt soothing to his hot, damp flesh. The sour stench of vomit hung thick in the air as Cris sat back from the toilet. The white of the ceramic reflected the dull gleam of the digital clock, proclaiming the time to be two in the morning. The wolf peered down at the wobbly reflection in the water and wiped a furry hand over his mouth. He could still taste the acid on his tongue as he pushed down the plunger, sending the remaining chunks of yellow and brown swirling down into the abyss. The wolf sat back from the toilet, his limbs shaking. His back against the bathtub, he then brought his palms to his face, pressing his hands to his eyes as if to drive out the horrors which had invaded his mind. Tears streamed between his fingers, running freely down his wrists as he began to sob. Shimmering mucus truckled from his nostrils, glimmering as it flowed over lips pulled back into a grimace to reveal the straight, white fangs. Cris sobbed, his chest heaving as he bawled upon the floor of the bathroom. 

For five nights the dreams had always been the same. The same nightmare world, the same horrific sky. He lowered his hands from his face, seeing in his mind’s eye the same demon approach him. Each time, the beast would take him, claiming him in that carnal embrace. Each time, he felt the fluttering in his swelling belly, the shifting of new life which strove to tear itself from his shuddering womb. Worst of all, the wolf thought, was that for all of his horror, he found that he enjoyed it. Lost to some dark corner of his psyche, there dwelt the craven desire which yearned for the touch of the beast, for the potent elixir which would bring about that gravid change. Cris let his head fall back, swallowing the bitter wad of saliva. Cautiously, he brought a hand to his flat chest, letting it explore the shaggy grey pelt, diving down between his sleek thighs to find the furry sheath above his plump balls. Not the dripping folds of his womanly form, but the normal anatomy of a male wolf, he thought. 

“It was just a dream,” he sighed. “It was only a dream.”

But what dream was the same night after night? This final nightmare the demon had spoken to him, had told him that he would belong to him. A wave of cold fear washed over the wolf as he staggered to his feet and padded from the darkened bathroom. What had the creature meant, he wondered? His clawed feet scuffed the carpet as he made his way around his bed, heading to the window which looked out upon the street below. Cris lifted the sash, letting the cool night breeze ruffle his fur. His eyes darted from the gloomy street below, seeing movement in the corner of his eye. Beside him, leaning against the wall, was a full length mirror. Reflected in the silver glass was himself, as he expected. Cris shook his head and turned back to the window. A car passed below, briefly illuminating his room in the white glare of its headlights. Cris leaned his elbows on the sill, watching the red tail lights flicker into the night. 

“It was only a dream,” he repeated to himself. “Nothing more than that.”

The wolf sank his head into his arms, breathing deeply. The night would be over soon enough, he should be returning to bed. Cris stood up from the window and began to lower the sash when there came the lilting chuckle of a feminine voice. The wolf stopped, his heart leaping into his throat. 

“W-Who’s there?” he cried in a voice that was more of a squeak than the deep, throaty baritone he normally spoke in. “Who’s in here?”

He whirled from the window, his eyes scanning the bedroom, searching for any hint of movement. Slowly, his heart thudding in his chest, he turned towards the mirror. There, in the gleaming surface was a wolfess. She was adorned in grey fur, much like his own, but there the similarities would end. Her lips were black, glistening wetly, plush as twin pillows and puckered slightly as she smiled. Her fangs glimmered glacial white as her mouth curled. Her deep, brown eyes crinkled in the corners, her ears lowering slightly. Her slender hands came to her well sculpted shoulders, caressing her corded throat to lead Cris’s gaze down to her bloated breasts. Such fruits hung ripe, fat with fresh milk which dribbled from the erect pink nipples. Her breasts wobbled pendulously above a belly that was distended in pregnancy. A vast, swollen globe of maternal flesh, the navel a hump which thrust itself from the sphere of her middle. Cris licked his lips, tasting the salt which crusted his mouth. His manhood stirred, unable to resist the pleasing way in which her wide, motherly hips swayed so seductively. Her tail swished behind her as the wolfess cupped her breasts, squeezing them ever so slightly so that warm trails of fresh milk trickled between her fingers. 

“Dreams come true, sometimes,” she purred. 

“I-I don’t--How is this happening?” Cris asked. 

The wolfess only laughed, “You still haven’t gotten it? Welcome home, Cris.”

Cris staggered, his mind reeling. “How do you know my name? Who are you?”

The wolfess laughed and said nothing more. Cris shook his head, placing a hand over his eyes as if that alone would banish the gravid apparition. 

“I’m hallucinating,” he said. “Imagining things. I need to go back to bed.”

A fluttering in his belly would bring the wolf to gasp. His stomach lurched, feeling as if a lead weight had dropped into his stomach. His back arched painfully, driven forward by the sudden heaviness in his gut. His hand fell from his eyes, coming to place itself on his stomach. Cris’s gaze went wide as his hand ran along a belly swollen into pregnancy. 

“No,” he whispered, his fingers gliding up the slope of his gravid stomach. “No, it can’t be.” 

His claws met his chest, finding the swell of milky breasts which lay atop his bloated belly. He turned to the mirror, the wolfess meeting his eyes with a look of icy terror. Only, it was not a wolfess he beheld, for the lupine who stood in that mirror, so full ripe in maternity, was him. Cris cupped a hand under his belly, too stunned to speak. His other hand came to his thigh, now filled out with motherly shapeliness, his claws exploring. Up, he slid, finding his fur damp. His balls were gone, his sheath no more, replaced with the wet, tingling folds of his womanly flower. 

“No,” Cris wailed in a high, tinkling voice. 

The wolf sank to his knees. Her knees? Her belly sagging between her legs as she placed her palms on the carpet. 

“This can’t be real,” she sobbed. “It’s still a dream.”

“It is no dream,” came a voice that sounded like boulders rubbing together. 

Such a voice filled the wolf with dread, for she knew that dreadful sound too well. She turned, seeing the demon of her nightmares looming above her. Its flesh was utterly black, like it was wrought from pure iron. Its blazing red eyes regarded the slumping lupine from beneath a pair of orange horns, like scimitars of living flame which set their glow up the walls of Cris’s bedroom. Beneath the wide nose, the rubbery lips parted to show the yellow fangs. The brute’s massive body moved, muscles swimming with liquid grace beneath the black skin. Its manhood throbbed in majestic horror, a rod of pure flame, the tip bright orange, veins of lava pumping along the engorged shaft, while two heavy orbs swayed between the mighty thighs. The demon came to place a hand on Cris’s shoulder, its fingers slowly turning, placing themselves under her chin. 

“I told you,” the demon said, turning the wolf’s face up to meet its basilisk stare. “For five nights I have taken you. Now, you are to be my bride.”

Cris shook her head, tears streaming down her wet cheeks. “No, I-I… This isn’t happening.”

This only brought a deep, guttural laugh from the beast. “Oh, but I am afraid that it is.”

It ran a clawed finger along the plush, glistening lips, slipping into Cris’s mouth. 

“I have made you ready,” it said. 

It ran a finger along the wolf's tongue, caressing the red gums, while Cris did lick at the black digit. Her lips closed around the demon’s claw, her eye falling shut with a moan which bubbled up from her wobbling chest. Her tail wagged behind her as the demon pulled back, sliding its finger free, the claw wet and slick as the beast smiled. 

“Yes, and I come to find you already on your knees,” the beast said. “What fortune.”

Its monstrous cock throbbed, disgorging its pungent precum to drool upon the carpet in a darkening stain. Cris looked upon the engorged member, repulsed by the horrid sight and yet, in her belly, there came a longing, a desire hot and eager. Her trembling hands came to take up that throbbing rod, to bring the brightly orange tip to her black lips. The wolf whimpered, her lower lip quivering as tears streaked her fur. Her shoulders shook, quaking as those sobs began to mold themselves into a high, tittering laugh. Her mouth parted, her lips peeling back from her fangs as Cris cackled. Her swollen belly jiggled between her thighs, her unborn stirring in protest, lashing out with furious kicks which bubbled her maternal flesh. 

“Yes,” the demon purred. “Give me your desires.”

“Why not?” Cris cried out. “If everything is madness, then I am truly mad.”

Her lips came closer, the heat of the demon’s flesh was scorching. The oozing tip met her mouth, her lips parting, wrapping around that orange glans, her tongue sliding around the flesh. The urethra spurted its hot precum, the bitter tang splashing upon her tongue as she stroked the black member, sliding down the swollen rod to meet the base of the demon’s shaft. Her other hand came to cup one sphere, squeezing the firm globe as if it were a ripe fruit. The demon rumbled in pleasure, its gaping urethra parting. Like a flower opening, the tip of the demon’s manhood would spread wide. Rows of sharp teeth glittered upon the wet flesh, the whipping tongue lashing in the air as Cris would seize that member, bringing the mouth to her lips in a kiss. The demon trembled as Cris’s black lips parted, her tongue twining around the narrow tongue of the demon’s cock. Precum drooled from that gaping maw, pouring into Cris’s puffing cheeks, but the wolf drove her tongue deep, lapping at the hot, bitter flesh. 

“O-Oh, my bride,” the demon groaned. “Yes, you have become so… willing.”

Hot precum surged down her throat, Cris gulping with greedy relish. The demon’s sludge pooled in her bloated belly, her flesh expanding as she sucked at the narrow tongue which wound itself around her own. Fluid dribbled from the corners of her mouth, pattering on her furry belly as she then coughed, sputtering as her stomach refused to take any more. Retching, Cris tore herself from her lover’s manhood, turning her head as she wiped the slime from her glistening lips. The demon roared in laughter, his great arms wrapping around her then, taking her to his broad, smooth chest. The feel of those iron muscles swimming beneath the ebon skin enthralled her. The reeking odor of sulfur and brimstone stung at her eyes, yet the wolf could not resist the masculine power which surged in those great muscles. Her womanhood wept, leaking her fragrant honey, the scent wafting gently in the air as the beast turned, placing her upon her own bed.

Cris lay on her side, her rump turned to the brute. The creature placed a knee on the mattress, the springs squealing in agony beneath the beast’s weight as it clambered onto the bed. Terror vied with carnal lust in her brain, rendering her powerless before the demon. Though Cris longed to escape, to flee from such a horror, her body demanded that she submit, to give herself utterly to the otherworldly monster whose offspring she bore. The demon’s hand traced along the slope of her swollen belly, feeling the ripples of tiny feet which kicked out at its touch. 

“Big you have become,” the demon said. “Bigger still, you shall be. For each child born to me in the realm of dreams, so you now shall bear here in the waking world.”

Cris’s fingers dug into the sheets, her eyes growing wide as the demon lowered its rubbery lips. A faint moan escaped from her mouth as they met in a kiss which for all its horror, electrified her mind. Her eyes fell closed, her mouth pressing itself to those black lips. Her own lips parting, she would willingly give herself to the beast. The orange tongue slid effortlessly between her lips, coming to explore the red gums, to caress the ridged palate so that Cris did shiver in the demon’s arms. Her hands came up from the bed, fingers spreading across the broad chest, finding delight in the smoothness of the black skin, the tingle of hot sweat which prickled the creature’s infernal flesh. Rancid saliva oozed from the black jaws, dribbling down Cris’s chin as the pair would separate, their tongues still entwined in the night air. 

The demon then fell to the wolf’s offered throat, supping upon the curve of furry flesh, seeking always the pit of Cris’s collarbone. The wolf moaned softly, singing the low hymn of primal longing, the dirge for the mortal world as she felt herself tumbling. Lying on her back, her breasts trembling with her rasping breath, she looked up at her infernal lover. Her cheeks bloomed scarlet, her desires driving out all fear as her legs began to spread. The dripping folds of her pussy quivered, letting their rich odor waft gently into the demon’s nostrils. The beast gave a low hum, its lips meeting her collarbone, filling that empty chalice until its bitter love overflowed to pour down her panting chest. Its questing mouth came to the deep ravine which sank between her breasts, the beast snuffling at the aroma of sweat and of Cris’s natural scent. 

The orange tongue slithered like a fat worm from between those jaws, laying its dripping flesh upon her bloated tit, sliding ever so slowly around the bumpy areola. Cris shivered, pinned beneath the beast, yet desiring the rough fingers which sank deep into her jiggling flesh. Her thighs, damp with her need, came up to hug the broad waist, to bring the throbbing rod that was the demon’s rigid cock to pulse against her wet petals. Her swollen belly boiled with the fury of her unborn, clawed feet lashing out in protest of their parents’ dark love. The demon’s tongue lapped at the erect nipple, licking the dew which flowed from that weeping tip, to suckle the fresh milk which trickled down Cris’s maternal breast. The beast would lower its head, its rippling stomach pressing against the wolf’s distended belly as it closed its lips around that ripe orb. 

Cris sighed, letting her head fall back upon the bed, her arms thrown back over her head as the demon suckled at her teat. Its rough, black claw came to rest upon her belly, fingers spreading over the gravid flesh. The bull neck of the creature bobbed with the great gulps of the beast. 

“Oh, yes,” Cris moaned, unable to hold back the hot desire which overwhelmed her. 

Her mind was no longer her own, her terror a mere kernel within the pit of her stomach. She craved the touch of the beast, longing only to be pleased by the monster which loomed above her. Milk trickled in a white ribbon from the corner of those rubbery lips as the beast plucked its mouth from her leaking breast. Down, it plunged, letting its orange tongue slide through the soft fur of Cris’s stomach. Shimmering brown saliva left a trail like that of a snail through the wolf’s fur, rising up the slope of her quaking belly to circle the hump of her navel, only to plunge down her abdomen to seek the fragrant jungles of her pubic fur. The beast seized her thighs in its iron grasp, spreading her wide as its snout fell into that pungent tangle of damp fur. 

“You are ready,” the demon said. 

Its snuffling muzzle came to those dripping lips, that succulent mouth which opened to its caress. The demon’s mouth would meet those sweet lips in a kiss that made Cris howl to the very stars in the frosty sky above. The wolf’s back arched, a song on her lips as the demon’s tongue plunged deep to lap at her very core. Curling, twisting, the beast savored her smooth, shuddering flesh, tasting of her spiced wine which flowed freely from her gaping pussy. The great beast rumbled in elation, brought to carnal pleasure by a mere mortal. Its cock surged, oozing the bitter precum which was licked away by the whipping tongue which slid from the widening urethra. The demon curled its tongue back, sliding from Cris’s womanhood, its body rising, its hips bucking against her so that its manhood would at last claim the creature it had so wanted. 

“For five nights,” the demon chanted, “I have taken you, made you to bear my offspring.” It ran its fingers through the damp fur of her belly. “I have shaped you, molded you in dream to that which I desired. Now, I shall at last partake of my prize.”

Its cock spread its jaws, its tongue slipping between the quivering labia to caress the wolf’s shuddering core. Slowly, the jaws of the demon’s cock would meet those perfect lips with a wet suction sound as their bodies united. Cris could only offer a moan, her cheeks flushing scarlet as that clever tongue spiraled within her. Like a nimble finger, it flicked and curled, dancing within her to make the wolf’s belly grow hotter than a furnace. Her fur prickled with sweat, her fingers digging into the sheets as she arched back to let out a cry of tortured ecstasy. 

“Sing for me,” the beast groaned. “Oh, my sweet thing.

The slender tongue speared her core, the demon buckling gently, pressing the toothy glans harder. Cris winced, letting a whimper as the pains of her stretching flesh would make her hug her quaking thighs harder around the waist of the beast. With every breath, the demon did push deeper, deeper, its cock crashing the gates of her bloated womb. Her unborn thrashed within her, pummeling her kidneys as the beast pulled back. The fat veins pulsed against her vaginal walls, her flesh closing around that hot member, stroking the infernal creature that was her love. The demon moaned softly, finding the wolf to be more than willing. Faster, it circled its hips, pushing deep, pulling back, never slowing as it pumped itself into the howling lupine beneath it. With one arm, it slipped beneath Cris’s thigh, lifting her leg to turn her onto her side. Cris’s belly spilled across the shaking bed, the springs shrieking beneath her as her monstrous love bucked its hips, crashing deep. The wet sounds of raw meat slapped in the fetid air, a chorus to the shrill song of the bed springs which threatened collapse beneath the pair as the demon pushed itself deeper. 

Its hairless pelvis rubbed against her sensitive clit, making Cris shout in jubilation as that toothy member licked at her cervix, driving her into a frenzy of maddened lust. It was not like her dreams, not at all. The rough hands cupped her heaving breast, the claws pricking gently at her tender skin as the demon’s mouth came to her shoulder. She turned, her lips finding the mouth of the beast, meeting them with a kiss of her own. Their tongues entwined as the demon thrust, its cock crashing hard, its slender tongue whipping as the orange glans opened, disgorging its virile seed. 

“O-Oh,” moaned Cris. “Oh… U-Uh… Uh… Mmm…”

The wolf’s lips fell from the black mouth, their tongue still caressing in the open air as the demon’s cock let forth another ropy strand to paint her hungry womb. Her belly gurgled, the skin stretching, swelling with ripe expansion as with every thrust, the beastly rod would vomit forth another strand of hot semen. Pregnant the size of twins, Cris grew, swelling to triplets as her skin creaked, her belly a vast and bloated orb which rose before her bleary vision. She craved so much more, though her battered flower did at last spurt the hot semen to run down her thigh, loose strings matting her fur as the monster continued, lost in the bubbling delirium of carnal pleasure. 

“You are most exquisite,” the demon said. Its fingers tucked under her chin, lifting her muzzle. “My dear bride. For so many nights I made you, breaking you into this perfect mold.”

“Ungh, yes,” Cris moaned. “Yes, please, give me everything.”

The beast rumbled in mirth. “Very well, though it will not be like in your dreams. For in the waking world, you will have to carry this burden longer.” It placed a hand on her belly. “And for each night, I shall fill you. For all time, you belong to me.”

“Yes,” the wolf purred. “I-I want to be yours.”

Cris’s mind whirled desperately, shrieking against the words which poured from her mouth like a rich bourbon. A thick fog settled over her brain as the demon slid deep, pulling back to pluck its manhood from her swollen womb. The wolf fell to the bed, fell into the arms of the brute who had ravaged her in her dreams. No longer a dream, but a grim and wonderful reality. Her belly quaked, her unborn lowering themselves, seeking the passage which would lead them into the world of light. 

“O-Oh,” Cris muttered. “They are eager.”

“Yes,” said her vile lover. “And so shall all the rest.”

The demon took her into its arms, crushing her to its massive chest. Spent seed oozed down her leg to stain the sheets as she let her head fall against the black pectorals. The demon smelled of sweat and brimstone, of sulfur and of the tang of semen and terror. The scent was familiar to her now, like home. Home, the word hung on her tongue, ran riot in her mind. Yes, Cris thought, she was home now. She belonged utterly to the beast, forever transformed, forever tainted. And for all her horror, the wolf realized with a gleeful shudder…

She enjoyed it.