.

The dry mixture of Nevada dust and loose gravel stirred loudly under the heel of my boot. Stepping out into the neon lit parking lot and abandoning the relative safety of the car has me feeling uneasy. It wasn’t my idea to come here, out to this remote part of a mostly empty state. We were far from the well policed boulevards of the Las Vegas strip. And hindsight being 20-20, maybe it would have been better had we just continued on down the highway to Sin City, and spent our evening at some strip club. But that was too vanilla for Mikey and Pete, my two best friends and roommates. Their tastes were a little more, shall we say, exotic?

And on this night, we were men on a mission. A mission men our age embark upon almost every evening. We were like King Arthurs Knights of the Pound Table, on our never ending quest for the Holey Tail. Only compared to my buddies, a pair of Lancelots if you know what I mean, I was Sir Galahad the Chaste. It had been a little over a year since my long term girlfriend had dumped me. We dated all through college, but ended things when she moved far away after graduation. And I had no game, none whatsoever, when it came to hitting on women at the bars near our place. I had been out of circulation for so long, I no longer knew how to chat up women! Mikey and Pete joked that my virginity was definitely going to grow back if I didn’t use my cock soon.

So tonight, our quest had carried us out of our cozy California apartment, across a state line, and deep into the dusty Nevada desert. Here, no game was required. Only cash. To help me out of my slump, all three of us were fully prepared to enter into the ranks of men who had utilized a fully legal, rural Nevada brothel. But not just any fully legal, rural Nevada brothel. No, that would be too pedestrian, no better than visiting that hypothetical Vegas strip club. Mikey and Pete wanted to go even more decadent and debauched than the standard Nevada prostitute. So thats how we came to find ourselves strolling through the parking lot of The Moonblossom, perhaps the most famous ‘all werewoman’ brothel in the state. It was their website’s claim to fame, But, for all I knew, it was the only one.

By now, everyone knows what a werewoman is. School children learn about them in health class these days. We all had heard the lesson in our own time at school. A werewoman is a man who transforms into a lusty woman during the full moon at night, or whenever something triggers their change. With enough practice, a werewoman can transform whenever she wants to really. Though on a full moon night, the change is forced. It is a rare genetic condition that affects a small percentage of the world population. Stories about werewomen have existed for hundreds or thousands of years, but only in the last few decades has their existence been definitively confirmed by science. Since then, it’s been public knowledge. And once that story broke, it was only a matter of time before some smart cookie figured out that werewomen make great sex workers.

Werewomen tend to be outstandingly beautiful when transformed, and incredibly skilled at seduction and making love. They were known to be immune to virtually every STD and venereal disease known to science, and pregnancy was not an issue for them either. Furthermore, a lot of werewomen report feeling a powerful lust, and a hunger for sexual release, when in female form. Last but not least, all those rumors that sleeping with a werewoman might infect a man with their curse, turning them into a werewoman too, had been debunked. Something like 99% of all men were naturally immune to the werewoman curse, and infection was super rare. And what is Nevada all about if not gambling? Here, for a change, the odds were remarkably in our favor.

I had had never used the services of a brothel before, or paid for sex. I was nervous as we marched across the gravel parking lot. Only intense desire moved me forward. It had been way too long since my last sexual conquest, and carnal need was overriding my better judgement. My mind began reeling in justification mode. This was a legal and licensed establishment. It had excellent reviews. Pete said his cousin had an incredible time here once upon a time. Nothing bad was going to happen. We three grown men know how to handle ourselves. Reassured at last, my doubts faded like last summers tan.

The glow of the full moon above outshone the humming neon signs on the front of the building, bathing the serene desert landscape in its silvery light. Besides the buzzing neon signs on the faded glory building, it was a tranquil scene all around. I drank in one last glimpse of this peaceful, hilly desert environment as we made our way inside the neon oasis. My trio glided nervously towards the beautiful woman behind the hostess stand near the entrance. Her red dress, red lipstick, firey red hair and blazing smile greeted us as she went through the required formalities.

“ID’s guys. Gotta make sure you’re over 21 and stuff.” She squeeked as we produced the rectangular sheets of government plastic from our wallets. “First time here?” She said breazily, less a question and more a statement on her part, but we found ourselves nodding as she slid our identification back across the counter once her examination of them was through. “Ok so like, welcome to The Moonblossom, Nevada’s premier all werewoman brothel!” She said in a cheerful tone. “Bar is through here.” She explained, leading us down a corridor and through a red door at the end.

When she opened it, the thundering beat of loud techno music spilled out, filling the narrow hallway with its sound and subtle bass vibrations. Our hostess spoke louder as we entered the bar space. “This is where you can meet the girls, have a drink, buy them a drink, and select Ms. Right for the night.” She added with a wink and a nudge. “Cutie pie here won’t have much trouble.” She added with a giggle, teasingly touching my hand with hers as she smiled at me. “So have fun, and if you have any questions, I am Destiny, and the bar tender is Luna. We are both happy to help in any way we can.” Our gorgeous red headed minx of a tourguide offered. We nodded in response as she departed back to the hostess stand.

Drinking in my new surroundings, the overall vibe coming off this place was decidedly seedy. But show me a non seedy brothel, and I will show you a place I can’t afford to visit. A shimmering mirrored disco ball was overhead, spinning and casting reflected lights against the walls. Most of the walls themselves were painted up to look like a desert under the full moon light. Mirrors covered a side wall near a small, uninhabited dance floor. Most of the gyrations here happened elsewhere, horizontally no doubt. A series cracked and peeling red pleather upholstered booths surrounded us, looking as though they had seen better days. A row of stiff, metallic stools ringed a rectangular wooden bar jutting out from the center of the room. Some soft sofas with end tables adorned a quiet, dimly lit corner where a few couples were openly making out, macking on each other hard.

And amongst it all, some of the most positively gorgeous women I had ever seen worked the crowd. Some stood at the bar, chatting with each other, with the other patrons, sipping drinks and smiling as they met my probing gaze. Most sported skimpy stripper outfits, a few, (werewoman patrons maybe?), actually wore mens clothing over their obviously womanly bodies. And of course there were more than a few ‘normal’ men like us, there to score. It didn’t take long until the sharks smelled fresh blood in the water, and swam towards us for the easy kill.

“Hey cutie.” Said a busty, olive skinned brunette.

“Looking for a good time honey?” A raven haired goddess with pale skin inquired.

“Hey stud, wanna get a room with me?” Asked a perky and eager blonde in a valley girl accent.

“I will rock your world, pretty boy.” Declared a petite red head with a pouty expression and sinful green eyes that sparkled like emeralds.

The women were presenting themselves to us, or more specifically, to me. My friends usually drew more girls, so this attention was somewhat new to me. And well appreciated too! Maybe they smelled my desperation? Or how backed up I was. Whatever the case, I was a hit with these ladies. Mikey and Pete barely got a word or a glance from our supernaturally enhanced hostesses. They all walked straight up to me, calling me cutie and sweetie and other silly pet names as they made their flirtatious introductions. As we oogled and broused and chatted our way through the selection of eager babes, buying a drink for a few thirsty girls, I was starting to appreciate Pete and Mikey for insisting on this destination.

One thing was for sure, what they said about werewomen is absolutely true. Each one was more gorgeous than the last. In the back of my mind, I knew that all of them had been guys, and would be guys again, but they are all woman right now, and all stunningly gorgeous. Thats all that mattered. Just being in their presence was making me ache with desire, and my cock was already tenting my jeans as we explored this unusual space and it’s incredible offerings. Besides their perfect appearances, honeyed voices and soft touch, the delicious bouquet of exotic perfumes wafting off of these flawless women had our trio intoxicated with lust. We had been there for a little over an hour when the time came to make my selection. Mikey and Pete insisted I choose first, it was my night, after all.

After a second glance over all of my beautiful options, I chose Amber, a leggy blonde haired girl with a great caboose, tits that I estimate were in the C or D range, and the friendliest smile I had seen in a while. Her icy blue eyes shone with sapphire brilliance under the club lights. Her silky, shear pink teddie left little to the imagination, obscuring her sex and bosom alone. There were no wrong choices here, but Amber felt right to me. Her angelic grin grew steeper yet when I picked her.

To my everlasting surprise, I definitely heard a few groans of disappointment coming from the other gals present in the sexy line up. It was flattering, really. Maybe it was just an act, or perhaps Mikey and Pete paid extra for my kind treatment, but I was beaming pridefully as Amber took my hand. Never before had I felt so wanted, so desired. Can anyone blame me for basking in it?

Hand in hand, Amber and I made our way out of the bar, ducking through another red door towards the back. A brass plaque adorned the crimson portal, the word ‘Heaven’ was etched into the shiny metal. Amber led me down long corridor behind, itself lined with doors. Each door sporting a similar plaque bearing a woman’s name. ‘Candy’ and ‘Celena,’ ‘Jezebel’ and ‘Mercedes.’ Noms de Guerre most likely. And as expected, the door my perfect hostess led me through read ‘Amber.’

The bedroom was about 11 by 11, dimly lit by a single floor lamp, and the moon shining into its one window. The walls were painted pink with white flowers stenciled in. A fan creaked rhythmically overhead, hanging from a familiar looking white popcorn ceiling. There was a king size bed made with fresh white sheets taking up most of the space along two edges. A closet with bifold doors took up most one free wall. The other featured the sole window, sporting a fine coat of dust.

I was a little surprised when Amber produced some paperwork from a bedside table. And here I thought this particular transaction would be different from all the others! How naieve I was, being new to commercial sex and all. The first form was a waiver of liability in case of STD, or infection with the werewoman curse. Amber wasted no time explaining this was nearly impossible anyways. It hadn’t happened in 10 years or so, to hear her tell it. Just a formality required by the estimable Nevada board of health, since the establishment doesn’t insist on condoms. The second form was a pricing sheet, sexual acts listed alongside dollar amounts, most of which I had heard of, a few of which I am ashamed to say I had not. For example, “W.T.F. is a Polish Bikeride?“ I found myself inquiring of my belle du jour.

“If you have to ask, you can’t afford it.” Amber said with a giggle and an impish wink.

Priced at $2500, she wasn’t wrong. And so after making my somewhat affordable, vanilla selections, I was handed her hourly rate contract to agree to in writing as well. Nothing says foreplay quite like county paperwork! She even handed me copies with a receipt, which I absently slipped into my back pocket. Not that I wanted a record of this transaction per se, but rules were rules, and I was too polite to toss them into the wastebin by the side table with her looking on.

As soon as the formalites were out of the way, Ambers brilliant smile returned as she slowly undressed. I did the same, though clumsily, and far less sexily than Ambers smoking hot strip tease. Her body fully revealed was truly marvelous. My eyes started at her long, shapely legs. They were toned and smooth, silky and creamy in the dim light of the moon pouring in through the dusty window. A perfect waist hip ratio at her mid section conjured images of a slender Victoria’s Secret lingerie model. Her womanhood, strongly suggested by the tight knuckle peaking out at the bottom of her tapering inverted delta, looked flawless and taught. A narrow waist gave way to a slim and short torso, adorned by twin breasts I could now clearly see in all their glory. They were full D cups without that pretty pink nightie pressing down upon them. Topped by rosy pink nipples that grew erect when exposed to the night air. I savored the sight of her feminine perfection. Inhaled her delectable perfume. Felt my cock stiffening in response without so much as a touch from her as I stood beside the bed.

Amber sniffed at the air in my direction. She was like an animal now, a shewolf in heat lustily staring at my cock while laying spread eagle on the bed, toying with herself and mewing softly. Inviting me silently with her eyes to come and claim my prize. I lined myself up atop her, feeling the wonderous sensation of her breasts pressed against my chest. She guided the tip of my rock hard cock towards her beautiful opening and I leaned into her with my weight. Ambers eyes went wide as I entered her, and she moaned sensually as I bucked up and down, pushing her into the mattress with each stroke. “Yesssss....” she moaned as her pussy gripped my shaft tightly, working it like a dairy farmer works an bovine utter.

For the first fifteen minutes of our hour together, I pounded her into the bed with my feet still on the floor. Amber lay back down on the edge of the bed, her spindly feminine legs set atop my shoulders, legs splayed apart. She felt incredible, and I am amazed I lasted as long as I did before cumming into her hard as she cried out lustily under me. But the hour wasn’t up, and Amber was not nearly done with me. We switched positions. I was still impossibly hard somehow. As in, zero refractory period. It reminded me of the time I had fooled around with Viagra with my girl back in college. And I went with it.

For the rest of agreed upon hour, she rode me like a rodeo cowgirl. Her tits bounced wildly as she persued climax after climax perched atop my proud pole. In the course of all her rhythmic bouncing, I found myself cumming powerfully again and again and again. Before I knew it, I had tossed four loads into Amber, and in a little less than one hour! Amber seemed satisfied with it. You know I was. I recall her using the words “cock drunk” at one point as she lay her sweet head against my chest. Whatever that meant. She was giggly, giddy, basking with me in the afterglow of our tryst until the timer snapped us back into reality.

“Want another hour hun?” She asked hopefully. And I did, but consulting my old friend Mr. Wallet, who was looking a lot thinner as of late, I politely declined. After tipping Amber as generously as possible, I went back to the bar to look for my friends.

Mikey was already out there sipping a beer, looking relaxed, well pleased, definitely in a state of post coital bliss. Pete emerged from the corridor of red doored rooms a moment later, sporting the same cat that ate the canary grin. We had gotten what we came for, and then some. We finished our beer and made our way out past the hostess stand. “Ya’all come on back real soon now!” The cheery red headed hostes, Destiny if memory serves, smiled at us as we floated passed. I saw her winking at me as we made the briefest of eye contact.

We piled into the car, grinning ear to ear like, feeling like lottery winners all. Tonight we hadn’t a care in the world. Sure, it had been expensive, but inarguably worth every penny. Money spent was the furthest thing from our minds. Mikey and Pete went first, describing their experience with their werewoman prostitute in explicit detail. They described every centimeter of her physique, and all of us agreed that they each and every one of them looked like fully airbrushed playboy models with zero visible flaws. They described their technique, missionary, doggy, pile driver, and how their women (werewomen really) reacted to their skill. Once finished, both begged me for details. I think I told them it was incredible, but the paperwork was a little odd.

“What the price sheet? The hourly rate?” Pete asked.

“Yeah, that and the waiver.” I replied.

“Waiver? Ha. You’re funny man.” Pete said with a chortle. “I didn’t have to sign away no rights.”

“Me neither. Just the payment sheets.” Mikey said with a yawn as he reclined in the passenger seat.

I just raised my hands up as if to say ‘whatever’ as I slipped the aforementioned paperwork from my back pocket into the center console. Apparently they hadn’t been made to sign a waiver? “Maybe my girl was pre law or something.” I quipped. Doesn’t matter, I told myself.

Taking turns at the wheel was the plan as we drove home silently through the night. Wending our way through the winding desert highway, I felt triumphant. Mikey and Pete snored away, but I was so invigorated, I just kept on driving. The sun was rising, a beautiful new day dawning, the memory of my conquest from last night was fresh. I was on top of the world as I pulled into our parking garage at last, though tired from driving the whole stretch. And of course the previous nights activities. When I crashed out safe in my bed at home, I dreamed of Amber.

I dreamed of her quite a bit over the next several weeks. Dreams of our night together. The hour of bliss we shared. I dreamed of The Moonblossom and some of the other girls there. They seemed so happy, doing what they were doing out there in the desert. And why shouldn’t they be? They had a good thing going. A legal trade that made them decent money. A safe place to ply that trade. No shortage of willing customers, and a way to sate that infamous werewoman lustfulness that was part and parcel to their unique condition.
I wanted badly to go back for more. For Amber, or one of her sister werewomen. But Mikey and Pete seemed satisfied with the local bar scene, so I kept it to myself. I didn’t want them teasing me for falling in love with a working girl, and a werewoman nonetheless. But I wasn’t naive, my night with Amber had been a service in exchange for payment. And as worth it as the whole experience had been, I couldn’t afford to splurge like that too often. Someday though...

Besides, in the weeks ahead, I had even managed to talk to a few women on our local bar outings. I even managed to get a phone number or two. No hook ups though. It didn’t feel strange when I found myself in conversations with women about fashion, their lives, their work, how so and so was being catty about this or that. Friendly chats that didn’t lead to me scoring. But there was less awkwardness, and I felt at ease conversing them. My game with the ladies seemed to be getting back on track, slowly but surely. As far as Mikey and Pete were concerned, their third ‘muff-keteer’ was back in action, ready to bury his sword, and almost skilled enough to find an opening. My time would come. The injured falcon had healed, and was being released back into nature to hunt.

But we weren’t out chasing tail every night. We needed break nights too. Bro nights. Nights where we drank beer, ate pizza, played Madden. And for me, a night like that is just what the doctor ordered. Work had been busy lately. Deadlines and editors and a huge workload had me chasing my tail. I had been sleeping less too, dreaming about Amber, waking up horny in the middle of the night. I found myself staring up at the darkened popcorn ceiling, creaky fan and all. Ruminating on its resemblance to Ambers ceiling, I would find myself wondering what her life must be like. What did she look like as a guy? Did she like being a werewoman? How did it feel to change? How much time does she spend in each form? How did it feel to fuck, to be fucked? Which was better? Odd but titilating questions like these just popped into my mind when I was alone as the days and weeks rolled past.

I do recall feeling strangely that Saturday morning, wanting to stay in and not go out and spend another small fortune at the bar. So I was happy Mikey and Pete agreed to have a good old fashioned bro-down for a change. After waking up late, masturbating quietly while recalling a particularly hot Amber dream, I showered, thought about shaving my scruff before deciding not to, and went out to the living room. “I got next.” I declared, plopping myself lazily on the sofa in between the two well worn lazy boy recliners Mikey and Pete luxuriated in.

”Glad you could join us, I was afraid I was going to have to beat up on pitiful Pete here all day.” Mikey said. He greeted me without looking away from the screen. His 4th Quarter lead grew with another touchdown, run in on a quarterback sneak. “Mahomes ya’all!”

“He cheats man. Using the Chiefs, they’re overpowered this year.” Pete protested.

“Please, I’d beat you with the Miami Dolphins bro.” Mikey jabbed.

As the afternoon progressed, the odd but horny feeling just increased. I hadn’t managed to win a single game of Madden all afternoon either, and I was typically the best out of the three of us. To be honest, my heart just wasn’t in the game today like it usually was. It seemed stale and boring and trivial even. Maybe it’s because my timing was awful, even my hands felt a bit less coordinated than usually was the case. I couldn’t focus, my thoughts kept drifting back to The Moonblossom night, and my lost puppy, hopeless crush on Amber.

Mikey was on fire though, schooling myself and Pete, winning again and again. It was on my third game against Mikey when afternoon silently turned to evening. Darkness crept over the world outside as the sun vanished over the horizon. And no one took much notice as we played and traded friendly insults and barbs about our Madden superiority, and our opponents lack of skill.

It was nearly half time in my latest game when I felt a little jolt pass through me. It was a sensation that had my whole body buzzing. My body reacted as though I had just been mildly electrocuted, though it did not hurt one bit. It felt good. So pleasant, my cock stirred at the sensation as I buzzed like a PS4 controller on vibrate. The sensation was intense, though brief, just distracting enough to cause me to miss a tackle. “Dammit.” I said as Mikey’s guy marched in for another touchdown. Inhaling sharply, my nostrils were treated to a sweet aroma coming from the direction of my companions. My slovenly, unkempt roommates smelled good for a change today.

“You suck tonight bro.” Mikey said teasingly, pointing at the scoreboard on screen.

“Whatever bro. You’re going down in the second half.” My voice cracked slightly as I spoke the last word, causing Mikey to chuckle. His team was kicking off, and I was back to receive when the second buzz passed through me. My hands tensed around the controller, and I gasped aloud. The sensation again had felt amazing, indescribably pleasurable in fact, but fleeting. It left me stunned for a second or two.

“Everything ok over there, bro?” Mikey asked, suddenly sounding serious for once.

“Fine.” I replied, somewhat edgily as my player on screen fumbled the ball, Mikey’s team recovered it. The musky smell I had enjoyed earlier was back too, the smell arousing me even further.

“Hopefully you’re feeling better than you’re playing.” Mikey said, resuming his normal assault of friendly taunts.

I didn’t feel ill, but I wasn’t entirely fine. I was starting to feel a little uncomfortable, flushed and warm. My cock was inflating, a chubby which had started with the first buzzing hardened into a five alarm stiffy as I breathed in that amazing aroma. A wonderful yet strange tingle was spreading all over my body now. The tingle had less intensity than the brief buzzes, but stayed with me constantly instead of hitting intermittently. A bead or two of perspiration appeared on my brow. My lips felt thicker, like I was having an allergic reaction. I scrunched my nose when the tingle spread there, Mikey and Pete’s scent coming in stronger than ever now. The odd feeling even spread to my jaw line. But despite these distracting sensations, this surge of horniness, I forced myself to maintain focus on the game. There would be time for mister happy later, I reasoned.

But on the very next play, another buzzing sensation hit me. It was stronger still than the first two. This time, I dropped the controller in response. I even moaned a little due to the overpoweringly awesome sensation coursing through me. It felt sensual and sweet, but the fact that these pulsations kept on coming, less than a minute apart, had me a little concerned. As did the fact that I wasn’t able to push this feeling aside, deal with my need to cum later. It was hard to ignore my tingling cock, and my scalp, which was tingling even more intensely than the rest of my body now. I came out of this overpowering jolt of pleasure just as the plastic PS4 controller crashed against the coffee table.

“Fumbling in game and in real life, are we? Be careful with that, you’ll break...” Mikey stopped speaking mid sentence and stared at me quizzically. “Dude, you look... different. Did you shave when I wasn’t looking or something?”

“What?” I asked, trying my best to act casually in my suddenly creaky voice. My hand brushed my smooth, scruff free jaw line. “I shaved earlier today I think”. I cleared my throat to combat the hitch in my voice. Of course, I didn’t remember shaving, I clearly recall not wanting to bother with it, and deciding to be scruffy. But I felt clean shaven. And like it had been done recently. So I must have. I reached for the controller I had fumbled. It felt different in my hands now. Bigger even. “Game on dude.” I pointed at the screen impatiently, towards our game in progress. My level of arousal was making me uncomfortable under their gaze, and I was eager to get their attention off of me and onto the game once more.

“And your eyes. Have they always been blue like that?” Pete asked, scratching his mop of brown hair. He was leaning towards me now, examining me like I was a specimen on a microscope slide.

My voice was shaky as hell when I spoke. “Oh great, you too now?” I cleared my throat again, and lowered my voices pitch somewhat artificially. “Very funny guys. Blue eyes, I wish. They’re brown like always. And I’m like, totally fine. Quit staring at me, unpause our game, bro.”. I said to Mikey. Even in my broken, wavering voice, the tone of desperation was apparent.

“Yeah that’s weird...” Mikey said examining my eyes. “Contacts?” He asked.

“You dorks are starting to freak me out now.” I said in an unbreaking, higher pitched, slightly squeaky vocal register. No sooner had I said it when another tremor erupted in my abdomen radiating outwards, causing me to again drop the controller, and moan in an unmistakably feminine manner. My body shook with rapture, sensual moaning in a feminine voice caused me to clasp my hands at my tingling throat. I was unable to believe the sounds had come from me. Mikey and Pete saw the whole episode this time. Their eyes widened in shock.

There would be no turning their attention back to the game now. Thanks to this latest episode, I was the undisputed center of attention in this living room.

Recovering from the tremor, I felt an odd tickle hit the back of my neck. On instinct, I moved my hand back to swat at the bug or tag sticking up from my t shirt, whatever was causing the tickle. But instead I found only locks of wavy, soft strawberry blonde hair. “Ouch!” I squeaked, as a gentle tug confirmed these silken tresses were attached to my scalp. It was my hair, a shade or two lighter than it normally looked. And I could feel it, growing still under my nervous grip and confused gaze. Pulling my hand away in shock, I glimpsed its slimness, delicateness, and beheld my protruding fingernails, nails that grew longer and shapelier as I watched them. In utter confusion, I looked to Mikey and Pete.

If eyes could say “Help me!” My pleading eyes were screaming it. But a severe tickle suddenly engulfing my throat temporarily robbed me of my ability to speak the words aloud.

In a panic, I tried to stand up from my perch on the sofa. But another, even more powerful tremor sent me tumbling onto my knees, moaning and mewing softly. My body was tingling all over now. My cock bobbed and twitched and began to leak a small amount of seed into my tented out boxers and pants. My eyes were peeled wide open, my body alight by some tingly, orgasmic sensation that seemed to move and spread, intensifying here, receding there. And as I watched in shock, the hair on my now much slimmer arms began to vanish into the follicle, leaving behind smooth, soft, hairless skin.

“Guys...”. Mikey and Pete were standing now, out of their lazy boy recliners a few feet away. They were watching me curiously as I writhed on the floor in front of the sofa. “Guys help me!” I begged pitifully, sounding scared in my new voice. But as I clumsily attempted to crawl towards them, they stood, eyes locked on me, and backed away from me like my hair was on fire. From across the room, they stood next to one another, watching me, wearing expressions that oscillated between mute fascination and concerned confusion. They were unsure how to help me, and truth be told, so was I. Was I dying? Was I sick? None of us had any medical training to my knowledge. Even if they did, what sort of medical attention did I need?

That’s when Mikey’s eyes lit up. His head turned to a window. If he were a cartoon, this would be the frame where the little light bulb in his thought bubble went ‘on.’ “It’s the moon! It’s full. You don’t think?” Mikey said, looking at me, his face awash in concern. “You caught something from the brothel?”

“Holy shit!” Pete added unhelpfully.

I groaned. “No... Can’t be. I’m not.. (ahem) not a...”. My voice sounded much higher yet, totally feminine now. Clearing my throat hadn’t helped deepen it either this time. The sound hit my ear oddly, causing me to pause. “I’m not a fucking werewoman!” I protested incredulously in my new mezzo soprano voice. Despite my denial, I could feel my body reshaping itself and shrinking under my clothes. It was supposed to be impossible. Well, maybe not impossible, but very, very rare for someone to become a werewoman like that. If I recalled correctly, only feminine men carrying a dormant gene were at risk. How was I a carrier?

I knew myself. I wasn’t feminine in any obvious ways. OK maybe I was a bit gentler and more sensitive than a lot of other guys. Less aggressive for sure too, even my ex girlfriend complained how I never seemed to take the initiative during sex. Those things sure, but why this? I suddenly felt humiliated. Why me? Why was I the one changing? Why not them? And why did they smell so fucking good? I didn’t ask for this, and I didn’t want it! As good as these changes felt, I was determined to resist the full moons light, and maintain my maleness at any cost.

“I think you are...” Mikey said. “...no other explanation.” He was doing his serious voice. “Try and relax...”

“No Mikey.” I cut him off. I couldn’t accept this. I would expend every effort to fight back the change. I attempted to focus my mind and body on anything except the immense pleasure bombarding both. “I can... fight it... just have to... uhh... to focus.” I said meekly in my girlish voice. But another buzzing sensation swept through me again, and the pleasure was just too extreme to contain. Squirming and yowling like a fish out of water, I reached a hand down to my crotch to make sure everything was still in place, determined not to lose my cock. “Oh God... I’m cumming...” I found myself admitting.

It was still throbbing and erect, although my cock felt smaller under my daintier hands when I gripped it gently through my boxers and pants. My manhood had just finished emptying itself, and the sticky, wet goo soaking into the fabric so uncomfortably made me want to strip them off. But as much as I wanted to shed them, I was afraid of what I might see, and what Mikey and Pete might see, if I were to do so. I’m not a turning into werewoman, I told myself. Fight it, fight it, must resist... it was my inner mantra as I felt my cock shrinking in my grasping hand. As I tried to focus on my breathing, the overpowering musky aroma radiating off of my friends had me quaking with lust.

My nipples suddenly felt irritated by the sand papery t-shirt covering them. Groaning in frustration, and without thinking it through, I ripped my raggedy t-shirt from neck to belly, baring my chest to the whole room. At once, I was shocked to see my wider, darker areola and erect pink pebbles puffing out at the center. “...Oh fuuuuuck...no!..”. I cooed at the sight of my feminized nipples poking out. Feeling the stares of my roommates, I covered the growths, half in shame, and half out of a sense of modesty.

I could feel my pectoral muscle tissue, still hard and flat. But I was aware of a building tightness behind each nipple, which soon began to lift the sensitive pink targets right off of my chest wall. Under my hands, the buds were blossoming into cushion of subcutaneous fat and connective ducts. The plump masses took the shape of twin cones, pressing tightly against my hands, plumping up bigger, slowly but surely. “Nonono...” I pouted in my whiny feminine voice as I tried to hold back the twin mounds developing under my hands. “*I can’t... I can’t stop it!*” I announced to no one in particular. My efforts at resisting the change collapsed.

It was hitting me fully now, and the gravity of my situation was heavy indeed. From this night forward, the transformation from male to female was to be a regular part of my life now. This was just the first of many changes to come for me. I was a werewoman now, and that this curse would change my life forever. It had me appreciating Pete and Mike in new ways already. I was no longer an average member of the herd, one of the guys. I was different now. One of ‘them.’ An outsider.

Mikey was right, and it was obvious to all three of us by now. However implausible, I was transforming into a werewoman, and I knew that there was no stopping it. I blushed hard, not wanting my roommates to see me like this. Transforming into a lusty little beauty like the ones we went to see last month at the Moonblossom. My foray into this niche porn genre was supposed to have lasted one night, not become a life sentence. But hiding my pleasure wracked body was not an option. Moving was not yet an option for my quivering mass of softening flesh.

I could see the moon for myself now, taunting me from on high. Its incipient rays still hard at work, assaulting my skin with pleasure, reshaping my body. The space between my legs grew wider. In my hips, I felt an odd but not unpleasant spreading sensation taking hold. Being stretched sideways. My back arched as my pelvis twisted slightly foreword. Along the tightening seat of my pants, I could feel my ass beginning to chunk out further. I found myself rooting for it to turn out like the feminine bubble shape I adored on Amber last month. Between my silky, hairless thighs, the sensation of my moon withered cock and emptied ball sack retracting, and presumably forming into my femaleness, made me gasp in ecstasy.

All the while, my breasts pushed up and out, making a mockery of my petty attempt to conceal the new growths behind my slimmer more feminine hands. I let them drop, feeling a light tug on my shoulders as they drooped slightly. While still appearing perky, and holding their shape quite well, the soft mounds hung off me like ripened melons. Twin badges of my newly assigned gender. I felt proud of their ample size and appealing shape. And acutely aware of the way they moved with my body.

Invasive thoughts bombarded my mind. “Nnnaaaahhhh” I half growled, rubbing my temples as thoughts of sex with men, women, any willing partner in my new body, raced through my head. Vivid depictions of me on my back getting pounded, on my knees sucking cock, munching box, licking tits and having my own pair played with flooded my brain. I needed release. Both to have my own release, and enjoy someone else’s.

In a few short minutes, the change was over. The pulsating buzzes ceased. The barrage of mental imagery receded. The tingle subsided. The pleasing aroma pouring off my friends remained, and was joined by another scent, a flowery one seeping out of my pores. It reminded me of Amber. Somehow, despite the odds being astronomically against it, I was now a werewoman like her. My night with Amber had left me with far more than memories. Mammaries for example. Sensitive, plump and soft, hanging off my narrow shouldered frame. DD cups at least. All was quiet for a moment, allowing me to catch my breath.

Taking advantage of my comrades stunned silence; I cautiously began to examine myself as best I could without a mirror. I found myself standing, slipping off my sticky, wet boxers and pants. I beheld the flat, inverted pyramid between my legs for the first time as they fell away. A tight, gummy mound, incapable of penetration, but receptive to it, met my eyes. I gently tugged at my perky DD cup breasts, and marveled at the sensation produced. Circling the sensitive nipples with my thumbs sent a shiver down my spine into my nether regions. Running my hands gently along my broadened hips, up my plunging waistline, then back down and around to cup my bubbly butt cheeks, my lips curved up into a devilish grin.

And as I finished my cursory self examination, feeling proud and satisfied with my beautiful new female form, I found myself staring at Mikey and Pete through new eyes. They looked... hot? Oh fuck. Why did they look so damn hot? Visions of passion flooded my mind. Suddenly, I became aware that I could smell their arousal intensifying. See their cocks bulging against their jeans. Maybe at the sight of me, naked, female, beautiful. Or possibly it was because of the werewoman pheromones radiating off my beautiful body. No matter, their heady masculine scent fueled my own arousal as I sniffed wildly in their direction. Like a shewolf in heat. Just like Amber had sniffed at me last month. I was like her now, and I loved it. My need for release was so strong I just couldn’t help myself.

My bros continued staring, minds clearly blown. It felt like an eternity since they had made a sound. Mikey spoke at last to break the awkward silence. “Hey bro... shit...” he began by biffing my new pronoun. ”I meant, hey bud, are you alright?” He asked as I met his gaze.

I paused for a second to contemplate. I felt fine. Better than fine actually. I felt fantastic. And even though we had just crushed a pizza, I was acutely aware of a growing hunger deep in my abdomen. But more food didn’t seem like the answer. My hunger felt different. “I’m feeling pretty great, surprisingly!” I said in a cheerful tone. “A little hungry, but otherwise great.” I went on, smiling warmly with a predatory look in my eyes. “I mean, it was pretty intense. And very unexpected. But... how do I look?” I inquired, giving them a twirl to see me front and back.

”Beautiful...” Pete said sincerely. His eyes studying my every curve. “I can’t believe that’s really you in there.”

”Perfect.” Mikey added nodding without taking his gaze off me. “It is still you in there, isn’t it?”

I pondered the question briefly,”Yeah, I think so. Who else would I be?”

“Good point.” Mikey said. “So what now?”

I considered his question. “Well, you two are... looking pretty good yourselves.” I blushed at the admission. My mouth began to salivate, and a warm, moist feeling in my nether regions began to intensify. “In fact, you both look positively delicious.” I found myself adding, licking my plump Cupid bow shaped lips and sashaying towards them. “And since we already know you two are immune to the curse... how about helping out a new girl in need?” Mikey and Pete didn’t hesitate to comply.

Everyone remembers their first. The first werewoman they fuck. Their first change. Their first feeding as a werewoman under the full moon’s silvery light. It all came so naturally, too. I was suprised by that as much as i was by the transformation itself. Werewoman instincts are powerful, I learned that first hand on that night. But wow did it feel good to be a woman. To inhabit a soft and curvy body, and experience all of its sweet pleasures.

I am still friends with Mikey and Pete. They are very supportive of my new condition, protective of my secret, and sensitive to my new bodies needs and appetites. I might not be able to bro down with them like I used to anymore, though there are certian nights where we become friends with benefits. It took some getting used to, but i came to love being a werewoman, as most of us do. And Mikey and Pete, well they aren’t complaining either.

***

I’m a journalist by profession. Being a werewoman has not changed that. Though now my features are a bit more niche than the mass appeal articles I penned before being turned. I am even working on a series for my editor now that focuses on The Moonblossom. A profile of sorts for the business. There are some interesting people and stories there for sure. Stay tuned for future installments. And if you’re ever in central Nevada, stop by for a visit! What have you got to lose?