A Wolf In Comfy Clothing

A simple, very very short story I put together on a whim for Pride Month! Not including the trans man werehyena story I wrote earlier this month on Patreon.

Sometimes bravery takes many forms.

He stared at himself. Swallowing while picking at the hem of his dress. His cheeks were bright red and he blushed more deeply while hiding his arms behind his back after noticing the dark hairs covering them. Sighing, bringing his arms around once more after staring at his hairy legs and realizing it didn’t matter. He looked away while lifting his dress, sliding a fingernail around the edge of the brief panties he wore. Finally, he adjusted his flaccid cock and settled everything back in place. A spray of curly chest hairs peeked above the bodice.

Once outside his apartment, the weight of everyone’s eyes weighed upon him and he could feel every tick-tack-smack of his sandals against the ground. He focused ahead, ignoring everyone, but inhaled deeply, savoring the scents around him. The familiar smells of people taking their same daily route, as well as- He paused, huffing at a new marking on a distant electrical pole. He wondered, briefly, if someone got a new dog (female, older, chicken and rice diet) or if a random person stopped into the neighborhood to walk their dog.

The dress swirled around him as he moved, light and open. Comfortable, but, as he swept it beneath him in order to sit on the bus, impossible to forget he was wearing it – even if the others weren’t staring at him. His reflection grimaced in the window beside him.

His fingers tightened, nails biting into his palms. He could feel it moving. A line of skin pulled against his cock, swiveling it around until it pointed towards his belly button. He breathed through his nose. Grunting as flesh gathered, rippling over his dick to create a sheath. The panties tightened slightly around him and he grinded his canines as they lengthened to fangs. Someone coughed, dragging his attention away briefly. His ears twitched, lined with soft fur and unfolding to subtle points. Inside the sheath, his cock was remade, skin growing smooth while the edges of the circumcised head flattened and curved to a point. The dress settled against his bulge until he pulled it against his legs.

He wiggled his toes when they began to ache. Looking down, he saw where the nails curved, biting into the soft sole of the sandals. They grew darker and he allowed himself a small smile when he considered how they looked – as if painted with a flat black coloring. Pain made him open his palms to see his fingernails growing to match. The soft pink nail polish he’d added to them the night before cracked and fell away. A faint ‘click’ forced him to rock in his seat and adjust himself to make space for the swelling low on his back where the tip of his tail pushed against his skin.

The changes slowed, leaving him to relax and breathe. At his stop, he stood and walked down the aisle, apologizing when his swishing dress brushed against passengers. His ears burned and not entirely due to the fur slowly creeping over them. He reached up to brush the curly mop of his hair to hide them when he felt them swivel.

With a deep breath, standing on the sidewalk, he walked towards his office. His fingers trembled where he gripped the small clutch holding his basic information. He’d left most of his cards at home, as well as his phone. The front desk person did a double take before greeting him and he gave thanks in return, clenching his jaw as he walked to the elevators. His heart pounded and hairs emerged from his sternum, growing in a thin line up to his neck. He leaned back against the wall of the elevator, grunting while scratching his back with the wall when more fur grew to cover his spine.

Inside his office, his coworkers greeted him with varying expressions – some with glee and happiness, others with narrowed eyes of confusion and still others averting their eyes and avoiding him. He nodded at some, smiled shyly at others and went to his cubicle, closing his door to bow his head and grip his cock. His sheath retracted while his knot inflated and he couldn’t help but stroke himself when the hormones and heat flooded his body. Growling, he unfurled his fingers to force his palms on his desk. Thin calluses lined his fingers, causing his hands to slide on the smooth veneer.

The day passed and he finally forgot he was wearing the dress as he worked through various forms. As the evening approached, he eyed the time with golden cracks in his dark irises, finally excusing himself in order to leave. Quickly. His sandals smacked his heels when he raised up to his forefeet. They widened with popping cracks and his toes stretched the bands until they broke, forcing him to kick his broken shoes aside. He grabbed the first waiting taxi, growling out the name of a distant park while sitting back, sweating and clawing at his knees.

Muscles bulged, covered in thick hairs. His dress tightened on his body, highlighting every taut, hardened curve. Stubble grew over his shaved cheeks and his tongue made a long, rough circuit before dangling briefly. Drool spilled from the corner of his lips. He was hard again and his tail was short but curved, down over his cheeks. His hand gripped his cock, unable to resist. Squeezing and pumping down to his growing knot. The seams strained on his panties before tearing along his size unable to contain his bulk.

When they arrived, he stumbled out and the back of his dress lifted, pulled up by his tail. His torn panties fell around his legs before the wind shuffled it off to wrap around a post. The thin spaghetti straps on his dress broke against his widening shoulders as he walked away, letting the bodice curl down to expose his massive, furry pectorals.

Deep in the woods, he stumbled, falling to his knees. Paws against his head, veins standing out on his reddened, thick neck. Raising his head to the full moon to howl in greeting. Tears appeared throughout his dress, allowing fur to poke through. He dropped to his hands and knees, panting and growling before reaching to rip the dress away. Standing, he gripped the tree beside him, sniffing and growling as he caught the scent of another. The male’s musk was faint, but it swirled on the wind and he followed it as his mind began to dwindle to more bestial thoughts.

His torn dress hung on a waving branch before detaching to flutter away behind him, covered in fur.

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