Last but not the least, at least for this year, transformation and gore.
Lez get this over with...
Thorg and Lance had been climbing the mountain since daybreak and had to stop for the night halfway between the bottom and the summit. They were supposed to climb up there for a day's hike, but because the main route was closed due a recent landslide, the had to climb an alternate route. Thorg was unhappy with this. In fact, he had been this since the day Lance asked him to join him on the trip. Thorg joined him, half willingly, because Lance begged him to go, it would be a total waste from his reward from his promotion, not to mention, extra help and protection. Seems there's no other choice then, Thorg thought. It got them over with. It's really an odd thing for an orc and a human to camp on the mountains. But in this day and age where anyone regardless of race, skin colour, gender and sexual orientation, it wasn't a major issue.
At least the night was young, even though they're not. They saw the stars that shone brightly, sang age old campfire songs each never sung, drank beer, got drunk, had sex (ok, no sex... yet) and headed off to the tent they shared. It wasn't much of a romantic night, if that's what they thought, but Thorg seems to admire Lance through his jet black hair and his icy blue eyes.
When midnight came around, Thorg woke up suddenly to take a leak, only to find Lance gone. Must've stated off ahead, he thought. Once outside, he was shocked to see the camp in a total wreck. Yet, he couldn't see Lance around the area. He must've been chasing off something that sacked the place. Nonsense, Thorg disagreed. And, through orcish instinct and imminent fear, he went off the woods.
Thorg called Lance's name in vain, searching for him. The first thing he found was his torn shirt, covered in blood. Now, Thorg was getting afraid. It's a natural thing to be afraid, even for orcs. He trekked around the forest, gathering up every evidence of Lance. His jacket, his pants, his accessories. All torn and bloodstained. And something wasn't right here. He checked the ground for footprints to whatever attacked Lance. The prints were not those of any familiar animal in the woods. It does resemble a wolf’s though, but at the same time, human. Some psycho or maybe something supernatural must've killed him. Oh, please don’t get killed. Thorg reassures to himself that Lance would be safe.
Really pissed off from this, and now wanting to take a piss, Thorg walked down to a nearby tree. As he relieved himself, he heard a rustle from the bush, and followed to where that rustle went. What Thorg saw was a shadowy figure popping out of the open, and without warning, attacked Thorg. The creature's claws were sharp, slicing off almost all of Thorg's jacket. And so deep was it claws, it bled Thorg's right arm. He saw blood from the creature's brown fur and it's eyes were glowing an unnatural yellow. Perhaps this was the one that killed Lance.
Even through warrior's blood, he can't help get thinking he would lose to this creature, and every desperate attempts to stop this creature through his bare hands fail. And with one swipe, the creature struck his claws on him and threw him halfway to the field. Still defiant and still a warrior, Thorg, will strike back against this creature who killed Lance. And true to his warrior blood, will not stop even down to his last breath.
Yet, so a instinctive creed can be futile to the creature, and off-guard, bit Thorg's left shoulder. The bite was so strong, so intense, that Thorg screamed in pain, a pain orcs cannot bear. Fallen and vulnerable, Thorg bravely prepares for what to come. His and Lance's death leads here, he thought. It ends here...
And just before his final rites to his god, another creature caught him by surprise, and savagely attacked the first creature. He was as muscular as the first one. It’s dark hair tackling without surprise. The two monsters retaliated together. Their growls and snarls filled Thorg's ears with anxious fear. And he can't tell who's winning. He can't see it in the dark. Even if was the full moon and the trees cover it and... Oh no, he thought.
By Grummush, they're werewolves, as he fully pictured it!
And as the fighting subsided, the screams of growling and shredded flesh fading, Thorg couldn't wonder if Lance was killed by those werewolves, or turned into one, and then got killed by the werewolves. Thorg was conflicted by this. It had been a long night.
One creature that assaulted the other approached Thorg, it's muzzle and the rest of the furry body was covered in blood. He was frightened, yet ready for what would become. Thorg thought that he shouldn't have been here. He knew he should've refused the offer, but it would break Lance, and Thorg doesn't want that. And to Lance, Thorg was the only one he could really trust, his protector, none else, and he was his friend, his handsome friend, a handsome hunk, a handsome hunk with raven hair and blue eyes.
No no no, you're not going to think about crushing Lance while some pup of a werebitch's gonna maul you. Thorg's thoughts welled up as the walking furball stepped closer, staring at his eye. Look at him, with all that muscled body covered in black fur and those blue eyes staring, there's no way he won't ki-... And Thorg realized something. This creature that attacked Lance was different somehow. It had that muscled body, that black fur, those blue eyes. Blue eyes, it’s so beautiful like-. It couldn't be...
Lance!? Thorg just couldn't believe it. That cute pinkie from the cubicle, who’s two heads shorter than he is, is standing right in front of him, standing tall as he is. Eyes glowing blue like the full moon, so compassionate, mellow, stern, and ready to hunt.
Lance, is that you?! Can an orc try to communicate with this creature?
The wolf couldn't say anything but nod.
Thorg couldn't help asking a plethora of questions like, what happened to him, what in nine hells is going on, why did he brought him here in the first place, why is he naked, and so many others. Thorg was filled with questions, and filled with anger in every confused question.
Lance simply just nodded.
Then Lance sent closer, despite Thorg’s resistance, and Thorg’s questioning mouth was suddenly silenced by Lance’s sure mouth. And Thorg was damned surprised about this. He admits that he had a crush on Lance for some time now, and all attempts to spit it out on him were thrown away with Lance, as a werewolf, for the love of the gods, simply took the advantage.
It was a flash, it was unexpected. The kiss was passionate like a lover and the air was raw as blood. And from that sudden moment, Thorg’s face turned red, and returned to Lance’s mouth. Hot mouth over wet mouth and wet tongue over hot tongue, the wetness run down their chins. Thorg felt like it was love, even he thought about this. And somehow, the guardian now feel like he’s being guarded. For a moment.
Suddenly, Thorg broke from the kiss, sensing something isn’t right. There was something tugging his shoulder. He looked at Lance, but his hands were down. Feeling woozy, he said, in a somehow slurred and deep voice, and he staggers as he walks, like a drunkard on a Prohibition night. Thorg grasped his wounded shoulder to check if it hurts.
That’s strange, why is it healed? Strange indeed. The wound from Thorg’s shoulder was unnoticeable. Still, Thorg walked on out of the woods. Lance followed him, not making sure why. The moonrays flooded the dark woods, the hints of stars glisten the onyx sky, and the music of owls and nightly creatures bring ambience to the night. Thorg and Lance agreed it sounded beautiful.
As they walked out, the uncovered full moon shone upon them, and down below, she shines over the bright neon and blinking LEDs of the city. Thorg came first, needing air to relax, and stares at the beautiful silver disk, dropping his arm on his shoulder and just stands there, as if something in his mind tells him not to sit down, or do anything else. When Lance came out of the woods last, he saw Thorg staring at the moonlight, and just standing there. As Lance puts his paws on Thorg’s miraculously healed shoulder, he was suddenly startled when Thorg turned around and smacked him to the ground.
Thorg’s eyes glowed yellow, the same glow from the creature that attacked him, but the orc’s was more of a fiery amber while the latter spawned a sickly yellow. His eyes were filled with bestial rage. And what’s more surprising to Lance when Thog turned around was he seemed hairier than noticed, and is still growin. His once serious and stoic voice deepened into wolfish snarls and grunts. The once-disappeared bite that had bit Thorg must have done this to him. And now, he saw fright when Thorg’s screams turn into whimpering growls.
Thorg fell down in agony, screaming and whimpering down in unknown pain. He was afraid at Lance seeing him like this, and he was afraid of what will happen to him. Run, Lance. the orc told the wolf. But the wolf cannot run, frightened by the screams and the trembling Thorg. Lance got used of being a werewolf some time ago, he didn’t just told him. But this was Thorg, it was his first time. The one thing that Lance couldn’t help thinking is that what will Thorg will even look like when he turns into one. Humans turning into werewolves is one thing, but orcs turning into one is another.
Orcs are bestial creatures, as bestial as all beasts. If Thorg turns into one, Lance thought, He’ll be a walking havoc... He contemplates over this as he watches Thorg transforming uncomfortably. He was right, it was his first time.
Thorg continues exchanging bellows and snarls as his body feels the change under the full moon. Was he going to be one too? Obviously yes. He was shaking, and stumbling, crouching with his hands grasping with internal pain. The hair on his arms grows and grows until he notices that his arms are completely covered in hair. He feels his teeth and tusks growing, his nose getting longer. He can feels himself growing, by muscle and bone, his legs get longer, knees getting weak. His already ripped clothes start to rip out even more. And the very painful thing in this undesired metamorphosis was something in his lower back was growing. He can feel his spine getting longer and trying to push to the skin of his back. He screams as the lump behind his back grows and turns into something like a tail.
But the most interesting thing that Thorg felt was in his crotch. He feels his orchood changing as well. He can feel it shrinking, or growing, he can’t tell, but he feels the base swelling like a fruit, and he feels his whole cock stirring. His libido seemed to rise more than his usual. With a final scream, he rips off the remainder of his clothing, and rises, screams turning into a spine-chilling howl, figure blocking the moonlight.
Lance, seeing the whole thing, was completely freaked out, his blue eyes opened wide with terror, his breathing was rocky and rapid, heartbeat like a drumbeat of a metalhead, his tail spike out with fright, and the tip of his cock trying to get out from its shaft.
It could have been from Thorg’s physique, it could be some other kink.
Well, this is interesting Lance can hear Thorg’s gruff voice, as he checks his furry body for the first time, and quickly, admiring it. And, always being a show-off from the office, flexing it. Lance, confused, awestruck and uncomfortably horny at the same time, sees Thorg in his new stare behave normally than expected. With that it gave him relief.
Lance sparked a new fear as Thorg approached him, with eyes of gold, fur of woodland green, boar-like teeth of ivory and a cock of cherry red.
Don’t be afraid. It’s just Thorg, Thorg’s voice was gruffly soft, comforting Lance with his soft furry hand paw.
Thank the Gods it’s you. Lance sighed with relief again.
With that horror pushed aside they talked more about each other as they headed back to the wrecked campsite. They talked about their secrets, Lance’s experiences growing as a werewolf, Thorg’s confession about his more than platonic love for men, Lance’s coming out, Thorg’s response. The conversation went on and on, as they sat around the campfire they fixed, drinking beer and other stuff, like they did hours ago.
But since they expressed their feelings for each other, they shared a warm passionate kiss that they had back in the woods. This time, Thorg takes the lead, digging his longer tongue through Lance’s. Given by experience, he was being careful not to bleed Lance’s mouth with his tusks. The night was still young, even after the midnight has passed. They slobbered from the heating love. They explored each other’s parts. Their cocks now pop out from their shafts, big, red and juicy. The knots from the base of their cocks swell up with lust. So great was their libido, and sexual excitement, that it sent a steam of musk emitting out of their bodies. The aroma of their musk was so great, it sent them a frenzy of desire. But so great a desire, it gave them a haze. A haze of sex that neither of them can control.
...
Thorg couldn’t remember what happened last night. It had been a giant haze. His head was heavy, and his eyes were gloomy. What he knew before that was that he fought a werewolf, and saw Lance fighting it too, as a werewolf himself too. He can also barely remember him and Lance kissing under the moonlight, him transforming into a werewolf as well, and then making wild love with Lance.
It must’ve been a dream, thought Thorg, still trying to think events since that night.
Maybe it had been alcohol...
And speaking of alcohol, before he could even conclude the parts, he feels a draft in his whole body, and he can feel something sticky in his loins. He was in the tent, but he doesn’t remember coming out his sleeping bag. What’s more confusing was that he can hear Lance moan and purr in his sleep.
He looked further to see he was fully naked. His cock oozed with drying cum, and it was fully erect. Orcs are proud of their libido and their multiple orgasms and quick reloading. Beside him was Lance, cum oozing from his ass.
What in nine hells is going on... Thorg still asked in his mind.
As Thorg contemplates on the confusion, Lance moans. He was actually pretending to sleep, given that he can’t sleep from Thorg’s sexual prowess. Lance could tell him about what happened now, or probably later. But for now, he’ll tell him soon. And for now at least, he’ll enjoy a pleasurable sleep, thinking of Thorg. It will take them two days more to reach the summit, but Lance got plans to make it longer. Three days? Five? A week or two? Who knows? He has all the time he needs with Thorg.
Besides, Lance said in his mind, This is Wolfback Mountain. He smiled with satisfaction, and drifted off to a peaceful sleep.
Took me a long damn time and internet issues to finish this story, but I hope you'll love it
Image is drawn with pencil and rendered with GIMP.
Feliz Orcotobre!
~alex
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