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Wolfhome: Lincoln and Roderick

There once was a town with no mark on the map.

A place filled with wonder, but made as a trap.

Born of a wolf, forever a mystery.

Who watches over this town and its violent history.

War, Plague, Pestilence and Strife.

Through these trials they endured, but still clung on to life.

But the wolf was not done, and with a wave of its paws.

Ensnared its people and created two simple laws

*********

Day 1

*********

It was a long trip and one not helped by the heat. The dead of summer was really not the best time to go on a father-son camping trip. Sadly, it was the only time Lincoln could take time out of his busy schedule and his son, Roderick, was out of school. They were also working on a deadline.

In a few weeks, Roderick would be moving out of the house that they had shared for the past nineteen years and starting his college education. Commuting to and from the college every day on top of Lincoln's own travel schedule would be a strain on them both and neither man's schedule allowed for much leniency with morning traffic and bus schedules. The only viable option was for Roderick to move out and get a place on campus.

The house already felt so empty just thinking about it.

So, in one last desperate attempt to spend time with his son, Lincoln had devised this camping trip.

However, Roderick wasn't very pleased with this last minute "father-son" trip. But Lincoln put his foot down. They both needed this.

After hours of long driving, the silence was killing them both and staring at the passing grassy pastures was not helping. Things only got worse when the air conditioner suddenly let out a spluttering sound of submission and died. Rolling down the windows only made things worse as the sun blared down on the two of them and the scorching winds lashed across their faces. Roderick had even been forced to put down his iPad because it was getting too hot in his hands. But just as if things couldn't get any worse, the steering wheel was starting to burn in Lincoln's hands and both men could smell something burning.

"Maybe we should just turn around," muttered Roderick.

The slim youth brushed his brow with the back of his hand, wiping the sweat and the brown locks that were plastered onto his forehead. A few hours ago, his hair had been styled with body and volume but now, it was weighed down by sweat and moisture. "This was a nice idea but -"

"But nothing," Lincoln said, slamming a palm against the steering wheel predominantly to get his point across but also to relax his sizzling fingers. "We're going on this trip. Plus, we're already well past halfway there."

"Just makes the trip back longer..."

Roderick shuffled uncomfortably in his seat for a moment before his eyes widened and he quickly covered his mouth.

"ACHOO!!!"

"Damn hay fever..." Roderick said with a sniffle.

"Did you take your medicine?"

"Two of them. And the eye drops _and_the nasal spray."

Lincoln watched his poor son shake his head miserably. Roderick was not a nerd or geek by any term of the word. He was average. He could kick a ball around when the occasion called and he would give up the computer to go out with friends just as often as he'd refuse. But his allergies were still something that got the best of him and on hot summer days like this. When the air was dry, windy and pollen was abundant, Roderick might as well have a cold.

He was starting to seriously consider turning around just for the sake of his son. But he knew that this may very well be the last opportunity to spend time with his son. Pressing onward he put his foot on the pedal of the gas and the car zoomed down the dry road even faster than before. However the metal frame of his 1990's Nissan Maxima SE began to make odd squeaking noises as they accelerated.

"We will be at the camp site soon. It's just going to be a little longer," Lincoln said to his son with a comforting smile.

Roderick only grunted as he rubbed his nose and wiped the tears from his eyes.

The two of them continued onward for some time, until suddenly out in the horizon a large tree line came into view. The site was a welcome one after being stuck on the dry and sun baked roads for so long and might cool things down a bit, however Lincoln knew well that the pollen from the trees could also upset Roderick's allergy's. As the car zoomed forward, the frame of the car began to shake even more as they passed the threshold into the woods and a dense fog began to emerge from nowhere.

He realised just how much hell he'd be putting his son through. It must have been like travelling through a wall of fire for poor Roderick with that moment of cooling fog the briefest window of reprieve. His son let out a sigh of relief when the fog rolled in through the open windows and eased his red nose. Though it was the middle of summer and just a little past noon, the fog was thick and completely obscured his vision. The temperature rapidly dropped from blazing heat to unnerving cold.

The trees began to fade into the thick fog, looking like dark, looming sentinels in the shadows. Lincoln was forced to turn on the fog lights which put more strain on his poor car. They were back large, rolling farmlands and once again, the sun was belting down upon them. Roderick looked like he was trying to hold his breath to prevent his allergies from kicking back in but within moments...

"Achoo!"

The sniffle that followed was the last straw for Lincoln.

The car seemed to detect his determination to turn around and began to slow but for the wrong reasons. A plume of black smoke began to erupt from the hood of the ancient vehicle, disappearing into the thick fog but obscuring his vision all the more. The spluttering that followed was far from encouraging and the heavy jostling and shaking sealed their fate.

"No, no, no, no!" cried Lincoln, balling his fists. "Come on! Don't die on me now!"

With one last, pathetic lurch, his car let out a defeated gasp and came to a full halt.

Lincoln stared at the dashboard for a long moment, awestruck and holding on to that moment when the car would just restart magically, let out a big 'Just Kidding' and take them all the way back home. He shook his head, realising with some bitterness that such a fanciful thought was brought along by his semi-delusional, heat-stricken mind.

Roderick was already checking his phone. His son let out a bitter groan.

"Just my luck. Out in the middle of nowhere, Hicksville USA and without reception." Roderick twisted the door handle and jumped out.

"Roderick!" cried an alarmed Lincoln. "Where are you going?"

"To push!"

At least he wasn't going to start walking. Lincoln pushed open his own door, having to shake it three times due to that particular doors strange broken latch. With one hand on the steering wheel, he pushed his shoulder against the white, dusty vehicle. It was hard to get it starting but once they had started the wheels rolling progress became significantly easier. Momentum was key.

But momentum was hard to maintain when they had no idea where they were going or even how far they had progressed. The fog was so thick that it was impossible to see more than a couple of feet through the car. When Lincoln looked over his shoulder, he could barely make out Roderick's silhouette in the darkness. Thankfully, civilisation couldn't be that far off. The side of the road was occupied by fencing that barricaded them from farmlands. It was his hope that they would come closer and closer to the big, welcoming archway of a farm he saw before the fog settled in. It took thirty long minutes to get the car up to that archway but it wasn't exactly what he was expecting. Seated in the middle of the road, the word 'Wolfholme' drawn across its wooden frame in big, bold letters. It was well kempt and had the strange motif of wolves drawn across its flanks.

Lincoln figured now was a good time as any to rest and he straightened. Judging by the sigh from behind him, Roderick was similarly exhausted.

"Question," Lincoln began. "Why didn't we just hitchhike with someone?"

His son leaned against the trunk of the car. Lincoln could almost hear the boy's muscles groan in relief. Roderick was too tired and a little too sunburnt to wince and just pulled away. "Because I know how much you love this thing." He kicked the tire making Lincoln flinch. "Besides, we're in the middle of nowhere. Did you even see anyone pass us?"

Those were two very good points and ones Lincoln could not easily dispute. Little wonder that Roderick was going to get the college experience he never had.

"Wolfholme..." he sighed, looking up at the sign. "Can't say I ever heard of this place. You?"

"Nope," answered Roderick with a pop of his jaw. "Keys?"

He tossed the car keys over. Roderick opened the trunk and picked out a bottle of what must be near boiling by now. Roderick took a long drink before handing it to his father. Despite the uncomfortable, warm touch on his parched throat and the distinct taste of melted plastic, Lincoln drained the rest of the bottle. He tossed it into the back with a sigh.

"Okay," he said. "Let's go find someone to fix the car and then head back home. You win."

"Glad you finally see reason," answer Roderick, more relieved than bitter. His eyes flicked to the welcoming arches and he wandered over to where a plaque was erected next to the sign. "Huh..."

"What is it?" Lincoln asked.

"Some sort of memorial plaque. Looks like some sort of poem..." Suddenly, Roderick let out a bright laugh and shook his head followed by a series of quick sneezes. "What the hell is this?"

"What? Did someone die on these arches or something," Lincoln asked, a little too weary to check out the plaque himself. His eyes suddenly brightened when the fog began to peel away from the road like two curtains opening on a stage. He noticed there was a small figure down the dusty road, quickly approaching them. "Hey, I think our saviours are here."

They both stepped to the front of the car, crossing the threshold into the town and waving the approaching vehicle down. It came as a surprise that the car was actually a big, red pickup truck. Even more of a surprise when a big, arm waved back in response. When the truck came to a halt in front of them, two, huge men stepped out wearing dusty overalls that barely contained the brimming muscles.

"Well hey there, stranger," the bigger of the two said, bright, blue eyes glistening. His massive, dusty, work boots made rather large indentations in the hard packed, dusty ground. "Having some car trouble there?"

"Yeah," answered Lincoln with a relieved smile. "She broke down a mile or so down the road. Don't suppose you have a phone we can use or the number of a good mechanic?"

The men - clearly related and clearly farmers - exchanged glances and shrugged absently to one another, looking very much like they were twins though one was years younger. "Sorry folks, we don't have a mechanic here in Wolfholme."

"No mechanic?" Roderick asked. "How do you fix your cars or anything even remotely... mechanical?"

The younger of the two, possibly the son approached them and peered at the smoking debris which was Lincoln's old girl. "Never really had to. We all know a little something about cars and machines. We just don't have a dedicated mechanic." He grinned at them, hiking a thumb over his shoulder. "Why don't we tow you guys to our farm? We'll open her up and have a look. If we can't help, I'm sure someone around the place will."

Lincoln grinned broadly. "Thanks! We'd appreciate that." He held out his hand. "My name is Lincoln. Lincoln Heath and this is my son, Roderick."

The young man gripped his hand, engulfing it entirely and giving it a firm shake. "I'm Stanley but most people just call me Stan. This is my dad." He hiked a thumb at the other farmer who was already moving to turn their truck around. "Mark Matthews. Guess that makes me Stan Matthews!"

Lincoln shared in the laugh and uttered another word of thanks. He went back to his car, hoping it push it into position so that the Matthews' massive truck could pull it the rest of the way.

As he did so, he passed Roderick who muttered, "Hicksville."

******

It came as an utter surprise to Roderick that this was far from the 'Hicksville' that he had envisioned in the back of his mind and he had come to expect upon their approach to the Matthews' farm. He thought there would be old, red barns filled with stinking animals, a rundown farmhouse and a compost heap rotting away out in the open somewhere.

Boy was he wrong.

"We use the latest in cutting edge technology to make the best produce we possible can!" Stan Matthews said as he stepped out of his truck and stood beside an awestruck Roderick. The big teenager - for he could have been no older than Roderick's 19 - stank like wet dog only more... sweaty and earthy. Definitely a guy of the land. "We've got advanced hydroponics labs and greenhouses manned by state of the art artificial intelligences that are pre-programmed to maintain the best conditions for all the plants. Our crops are regulated by powerful irrigation and filtration systems that recycle waste water from town. Oh and we've got drones that carefully watch our crops and herds."

"Drones?" Roderick asked.

Stan gripped the top of his head with one big hand like you would a little child and slowly turned it towards the sky. There, gliding casually in the air was a white cross-shaped machine lazily drifting over the farmland.

"We've got a lot of land to look after." The sound of Mark's deep rumble made Roderick jump. The taller of the Matthews ushered the two guests towards the two-storey home. "The entire town depends on us and the few farming families around here to keep them supplied. Plus, our surplus is sold to make a tidy profit."

Roderick stepped up to the wooden patio. When Mark opened the door, it took all his might not to leap into the cool, air-conditioned expanse of the broad, spacious home inside.

"Please take off your shoes," Mark asked politely.

He eagerly did so but left his socks on.

"You might want to take off your socks too," Stan said with a grin, his youthful features simply lighting up the room. Pearly white, straight teeth flashed against his evenly tanned flesh dusted lightly by a light dusting of brown-blonde facial hair. "We've got heated floorboards."

There went the last vestiges of Roderick's image of 'Hicksville'. The moment his bare feet touched the floorboards, he was overwhelmed by an incredible sense of contentment. Stepping out of the heat and into the cooled air made him shiver but the warmth that radiated from his feet and permeated his core quickly soothed his chills.

Through the glaze of serenity, he noticed that the farmhouse had the perfect mix of modern and traditional styles. While the walls were laminated wood, they were built in such a way to promote space and innovation as well. He noticed that many of the cabinets were actually inbuilt into the walls indicating a lot of planning had gone into the construction of the house. The furniture was bright and either metallic or plastic but not too garish to stand out too much. There were pots built into the floor at ground level with lush plants growing out of them to give a very natural look. Sunlight was ample especially through the angled skylights and bay view windows. From where he stood, Roderick could see a broad entertainment room with beanbag chairs lain about. The kitchen was predominantly metallic too but with just the perfect slivers of wood to blend it in with the rest of the house.

"This is incredible!" he exclaimed. "You guys must make a fortune!"

"We make do," chuckled Mark, heading into the kitchen. His broad back consumed Roderick's vision as he passed, every rippling muscle making its indentation on his tight clothing. The straps of his overalls practically vanished into the valleys of his shoulders and back. "Besides, buyers pay well for what we have to offer. Can I get you two a drink?"

"I'm good with anything cold," Lincoln answered, wiping his brow and sighing softly in the cooling air. "So with most of the farm being run by robots, what do you guys actually do?" He held up his hands. "I mean that in the most respectful way, by the way."

Stan chuckled and beckoned the two towards the lounge room, offering them a seat in front of the big TV. "We still get out there. The drones and AIs mostly monitor the crops and herds to make sure none of them go astray. Animals don't respond too well to robots, you know. We got to be out there and be with them."

"That and we breed horses," added Mark as he returned with a tray and jug of lemonade. He gave each of them men a glass and set down the jug on the coffee table. He set his big, bare feet on the ottoman. "So, where are you two off to?"

"Camping trip," answered Lincoln shortly. "But then the old girl gave up on us..."

Lincoln's expression suddenly dropped and Roderick noticed.

His father loved that car though Roderick could never understand why. Still, it was a fondness that he respected. Lincoln Heath didn't love many things in life but his car was definitely one of the exceptions.

"We saw," Stan said with a grim nod, his short natural hair dampened slightly with sweat. "We honestly thought you were an eighteen wheeler on its way through the entrance with all the smoke your car was spewing. Then it stopped and we grew worried. Good thing we came in to check. It's still several miles to town."

"How did you even see us through the fog?" Roderick asked.

When Stan smiled, his soft, blue eyes simply shone. They were the perfect shade of baby blue that popped against his bronzed flesh. The corners of his eyes crinkled a little with the smile and a set of cute dimples appeared against the soft dusting of his five o'clock shadow. "The fog comes in every now and then but doesn't last long. I mean, in this heat? It's weird that it even came around. Besides, we going your way anyway to check our fencing near the entrance."

"Speaking of the entrance," Roderick chimed in. "There was a plaque at the entrance. What's that about?"

Stan's smile grew broader, showing his perfect teeth. It was a smile mirrored by his father. Unlike Stan, Mark was cleanly shaven and his hair was a sun-bleached blonde - almost completely golden save for the dark roots - from years of working in the sun. Like his son, his hair was short but styled slightly into a few spikes at his fringe.

"'There once was a town with no mark on the map," Stan intoned. "A place filled with wonder, but made as a trap. Born of a wolf, forever a mystery. Who watches over this town and its violent history.

War, Plague, Pestilence and Strife. Through these trials they endured, but still clung on to life. But the wolf was not done, and with a wave of its paws. Ensnared its people and created two simple laws."

"Seven days will the town stand," Mark continued solemnly. "Then it will vanish without a sign on the land. And to those who would enter, by design or by storm. Will find its people welcoming and its beds very warm."

"Enjoy plentiful food, drink water so pure. But stay for too long and your fate is ensured."

"In this town, seven days are all you have to roam. A minute longer and consider this your new home."

Roderick shuffled uncomfortably in his seat. "Uh... You guys have that memorised?"

"Everyone in town does," replied Mark, finishing off his drink. "Stan, why don't you take Rod into town and show him around? Teach him about the town and its history. I'll work with Mr. Heath here to get his car fixed up."

Lincoln smiled and stood up. "I appreciate that, Mark. If there's anything we can do to repay you."

The big farmer waved a hand, the muscles on his forearms straining against his skin and showing of the thick veins that rolled up across his biceps like big, blue rivers. "Eh, it's my pleasure, really. Just being neighbourly. Come on, I got my tools in the garage."

Roderick suddenly found a big hand on his shoulder and he was practically picked up off his feet. Stan's enormous muscles put him on par with bodybuilders worldwide and it was a bit emasculating when the teenager half-carried, half-pulled him back out the door. Roderick didn't want to leave the cooling embrace of the house but he wasn't about to argue against a big, three hundred pound mound of farm-trained muscle. He couldn't help but stare at the monster of a man in front of him. Sure there were guys like him all over the world but never before had Roderick seen one who was at the peak of physical fitness... let alone so young. Stan could take up a whole doorframe just with his size alone!

"If you don't mind me asking," Roderick began, "how the hell did you get so big?"

"Horse steroids."

"What!?"

The younger of the Matthews let out a surprisingly bright laugh despite his thick, corded neck. "Just joshing ya. Farm work puts you in good shape and with the drones around, me and my dad get a lot of time to work out. Plus, healthy eating."

Roderick kept his comments to himself. Instead, he wondered out loud why they were veering away from the garage and heading towards one of the barns. He had to hold his breath for as long as possible. Walking through the grassy planes kicked up his allergies again. But in the end, he had to sneeze. Stan didn't seem to notice.

"We'll be heading to town the old fashioned way," grinned Stan. They stepped into the barn and Roderick was instantly assaulted by the smell of horse. He had never been around equines before so the smell hit him like a truck. He squinted in an attempt to keep himself from scratching his itchy eyes.

"You're kidding me, right?" Roderick asked followed by a sniffle.

"Aw, come on Rod." He got a charming, cocky smirk from over the shoulder from Stan. "Don't tell me you've never ridden a horse before."

"I got a guy hung like a horse one into bed once but that was when I was sixteen."

That disarmed Stan and it was Roderick's turn to laugh. "That's a joke. And it's Roderick. I don't like 'Rod'."

Stan shook his head and returned a shaky grin. "Right, right. Sorry." As Stan went over the basics of horseback riding, Roderick had to sigh inwardly and tell himself to stop thinking of this place as some sort of backwater, inbred, redneck sanctuary. He hadn't seen anyone else and hadn't met anyone else. There was also no guarantee that Stan slept with his dad.

Although the thought of those two living mountains brimming with muscle and hot lava-like blood ready to erupt...

Roderick shook his head free of the thought and wandered over to the horse that Stan had picked out for him if only to give him a moment to adjust himself. Whiteshadow, the beast was called. The stallion was pure white and had bright, intelligent eyes. Intelligent enough to turn his head away in disgust at Roderick's approach and give a disproving nicker.

"I don't think he likes me..." Roderick began.

"Don't be a chicken. We got enough of those." Stan took Roderick's hand and gently guided it towards Whiteshadow's muzzle. The horse gave him one sniff before pulling back and snorting. "Ah, he just needs to get used to you. Come on, you can ride Stormwing with me."

Stormwing was a much more docile mare, a cool chestnut colour with white stripes down her flanks that almost did look like wings. She was also _huge_and strong. How she managed to support both Stan's monumental weight and Roderick's was beyond the young human. Stan led her out of the farm and then helped Roderick up onto her, letting him first grip the reins. Then he leapt up behind him, strong arms curling around his waist to hold the reins.

"We'll start off at a walk," Stan said, his warm breath touched by the sweetness of the lemonade brushing against Roderick's nape. "Then we'll want to break into a gallop if we want to get into town for the Happy Hour."

"You drink?" Roderick asked.

"Yeah but that's not what I mean." He felt the guy's grin even without seeing it. "Come on, I'll show you."

Stan's massive form behind him was very welcome as they rode Stormwing down the dusty road. His bulk actually blocked the sun from cooking Roderick alive. The sensations of a living animal beneath him was a little unnerving but Stan's arms would always be there to keep him steady and to prevent him from falling.

It made him feel safe even in this unknown town.

"So, what's the deal with that poem at the gates?" he asked, just to pass the time.

"Just the legend about how this town was founded," answered Stan dismissively. "They say that when the pilgrims came here from across the sea looking for new prospects, they got horribly lost and were near death when they met a wolf. They asked the wolf for help and he built a town for them. Disease struck the town a short while later and the wolf came to their aid, making them strong. However when outsiders found out about the town they grew jealous of the town's prosperity and raided the place, killing all the women and children but, the wolf came to their rescue once more and drove the invaders off."

Stan shrugged his massive shoulders, causing his huge pecs to brush up against Roderick's back. "But the wolf was a little too giving for its own good. When the towns' people realised that they could abuse the wolf's gift and started raiding other towns, the wolf cast a curse. After that, no native to the town could leave the town."

"That's not true, is it?"

"Of course it isn't," laughed Stan. "But why would anyone ever want to leave? This place has everything!"

"Uh..."

"Trust me. You'll find out once we reach town." Stan winked at him. "Besides, it's just a legend. Not all of it is true. Some parts are but not all and some parts have just been exaggerated throughout time. And that poem is new. We had a competition about it a few years back. Makes one hell of a conversation starter."

Roderick couldn't help but think 'Hicksville' again but just smiled politely.

"Oh shoot! We gotta get going if we want to make happy hour!" exclaimed Stand. "Yah! Girl! Yah!" He cracked the reins and Stormwing suddenly bolted forward.

Roderick let out a cry of surprise as the animal beneath him became a surge of motion, strong muscles moving and gyrating to carry him closer and closer to Wolfholme itself. The jostling kept causing him to fly up from the saddle and that moment of fear when he was barely holding onto anything caused his heart to skip a beat. But that fear faded quickly when he felt Stan's strong, chiselled chest press down on his back, leaning forward and pushing him down slightly to make sure they were a little more aerodynamic.

Twenty minutes of hard running from Stormwing and suddenly, they were riding into Wolfholme itself. It was like a quiet suburban town mixed with just a little bit of a metropolis. The tallest building was a five storey structure that looked to belong to a multiple businesses in the centre of town. Everything else was flat and perfectly planned. Blocks of the street were perfectly uniform and one would almost think this was a slice out of a 1960's America but there was nothing uniform about the shops or its inhabitants. There were tattoo parlours, high tech device shops and internet cafés juxtaposed between well-kempt, theatres that looked like they had been open since the dawn of motion pictures, barber shops with the typical barber's poles and even milk bars. There was a small tree planted every ten feet on the street, growing proudly to form a brilliant canopy over the roads. Roderick even saw a reference to a drive-in movie theatre on a corner billboard.

"Wow... This place is like America through the ages!" he laughed.

"Pretty much," laughed Stan as he jumped off Stormwing and guided her towards a milk bar. There was a bright neon sign that flashed the words 'Happy Hour 3 - 4 PM Every Day'. "Come on. Milkshakes are a buck a pop."

"Seriously?" Roderick asked with a smile of disbelief on his muzzle. "Milkshakes?"

"You have not lived until you try one of the Corner Udder Man's milkshakes."

Overwhelmed with disbelief, Roderick leapt off Stormwing and let Stan tie her to a tree. "What kind of name is 'Corner Udder Man'?"

"It's on the corner. Milk comes from cow's udders - some of which we supply, by the way. And the owner is male. What's there to question?" Stan's big hand clasped Roderick's shoulder and guided him into the milk bar. The floors were chequered a bright red and white and everything simply screamed 1980s. Hell, all the waiters even rolled around on stakes.

Despite never having come from that particular generation, Roderick found a degree of nostalgia as Stan wandered up to the counter and greeted the big, burly, hairy man there.

"Hey, Kev!" Stan exclaimed. "Two Cosmic Corners please!"

Kev grinned and hiked his chin at Roderick. "Sure thing, Stan. New guy?"

"Yup! Just rolled into town. Car broke down. Me and my old man are gonna help him fix it up." Stan hiked a thumb at one of the booths. "Why don't you find a seat, Rod? I'll be down in a minute."

Roderick smiled and greeted Kev. "Sure. Thanks. Pleasure to meet you, Kev."

He headed towards one of the booths and sat down. Glancing down at the menu, he couldn't help but shake his head at the vast array of tacky and yet adorably retro menu items. 'Rockin' Fires' and 'Super Happy Family Fundae' was amongst them. He was almost tempted to grab a 'Hound Dog' just to see what it was.

His eyes were looking at the ridiculously large bucket of fries pictured on the menu when he got the awful sensation of the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. He absently swiped a hand across his neck but the prickling sensation persisted. Roderick glanced over his shoulder to where Stan was speaking animatedly with Kev, their eyes far away from him. Still the prickling persisted but even more prominent than before now that his neck was turned towards the window. He turned to look out into the street, one hand over his neck.

Maybe he was getting a little bit of sunburn?

Roderick nearly leapt out of his seat.

Across the street, standing with his hands folded behind his back was a man... or rather... a wolfman. He had the perfect posture of a human, maybe even a little brawnier than any other man he had ever seen but that could be due to the cleanly pressed black suit he wore. His entire body was covered in jet-black fur save for the underside of his jaw and neck. When the wind blew, it rustled his whiskers and brushed against the brown goatee he wore that matched the colour of his hair. His deep, brown eyes stared straight at Roderick, piercing into his very soul.

No one else on the street seemed to notice the wolf-man-thing. They passed him, never paying him any mind. Roderick waited for the guy to move... but... he just didn't. He kept staring straight at Roderick...

Stan's massive arm suddenly consumed his vision. The big farmer boy leapt over the back of the stall, showing surprising dexterity and landing right in front of him. Even with two, bubbling milkshakes in hand, Stan shuffled right next to Roderick, never spilling a drop.

"Two Cosmic Corners!" Stan exclaimed. "You'll love these!"

"Thanks," Roderick said, reaching for his wallet. He tried to peer around Stan... but the wolf was gone. "I guess I owe you one?"

Stan waved him down. "Nah, it's okay. It's just a buck, man."

"If you say so." As Roderick placed his wallet back into his pocket. "Hey... uh... do you have guys dressing up as that wolf from the legend around here?"

He got a puzzled look from that. "Uh... What?"

"I saw this guy dressed in a suit and wearing a wolf head... looked really convincing. Right over there." He pointed across the street.

Stan frowned and glanced across the street. "No one there now."

Roderick dismissed it and rubbed the back of his neck. The prickling sensation was gone. "Never mind. I must have heatstroke or something."

*****

That night, after a hearty meal and a few laughs, all four men went to bed. The entire town of Wolfholme from the most distant farm to the smallest of apartments went through its ritual. Families bid each other a good night and tucked in for the night. Fathers lounged in their beds to watch TV for a little longer before hitting the hay while their teenaged boys jabbed at fantasy creatures in a virtual world, read books or did their homework.

No matter the activity, Wolfholme fell into a quiet lull.

In this lull, a thick, heavy, white mist began its advance upon the town. It crept in from the deepest recesses of the town, snaking up from the ground itself or slithering out from the sewers and beneath homes. The gaseous tendrils began snaking their way across the streets, dusty roads, up stairs and over barriers.

Deep in the Matthews' farm, the mist had already began bleeding into the rooms. It snuck beneath the doors, through the vents and began to fill the entire home. Lincoln Heath slumbered quietly on the couch when the fog consumed the entire room. If he had been awake, he would never have been able to see more than a few feet in front of him. Despite the presence of the fog, his body actually began to increase in temperature, particular in his groin region. He took a sharp breath and he rolled onto his stomach, compressing his rising cock between his body and the soft cushions of the couch.

The house filled with more and more of the mist. Against all logic, the fog rolled up the stairs and worked its way into Mark Matthews' bedroom. The elder of the Matthews was fast asleep, one leg over the sheets and his arms sprawled out in odd angles. His loud snoring did not deter the mist. His entire room was soon consumed and the big man's nude form tensed, enormous muscles bunching. Bulging calves throbbed with blood, veins rippling up from the juicy muscles and across the hard lines of his thighs.

Mark's hands began moving of their own accord and he stifled a moan as they began to trace the hard, chiselled shapes of his abdominals. He licked his lips as he began roll his fingers over his huge pectorals, twisting his nipples. The wave of pleasure that rocketed out of the gesture went in two directions; towards his groin and his lips. Though still soundly asleep, Mark opened his lips and let out a long gasp. The intake of breath drew the fog deep down his throat. The reaction was instantaneous. Mark let out a soft moan as his hands moved straight towards his crotch, his cock hardening rapidly.

"Must..." he murmured softly. "Must feed..."

Across the hallway, Roderick was just falling into slumber and would've been a minute or so away from dreamland when fog arrived. The day had been long and trying and he was already half-asleep so he mistook the fog for his slow descent into slumber. His eyes were already shut by the time the fog reached Stan who had his back turned to Roderick, the sheets over him and slumbering more quietly than his father.

Like his father, Stan let out a soft moan and reached for his hardening member through his boxer briefs, every intake of breath drawing more and more of the mist into him. Roderick was momentarily jarred from his slip into sleep but with the room entirely dark, he couldn't see the mist. He just heard Stan making the tell-tale noises of someone having an erotic dream and their body responding automatically.

Roderick didn't pay it any mind. Stan was a sexy stud and of course he needed some sexual relief. In some part of his mind, Roderick wondered if Stan was fantasising about him and just let himself drift off into slumber with that thought in his head.

Had he remained awake longer, Roderick would have heard Stan murmuring, "... the Need... Must feed... the Need... Feed the Need."

Both Matthews increased their pace as the hour aged, all of Wolfholme joining in their activities whether they be asleep, awake or in some transitionary state between. All the while, their lips moved whether in silence or loud cries of ecstasy to form the words 'Must Feed the Need'. Over and over again, the mantra was whispered.

At exactly twelve o'clock on the dot, all the citizens of Wolfholme cried out, one after another as they reached orgasm. There were a few howls and cries far from human but never heard from the distant Matthews Farm. Several loving couples reached climax at that moment. As they all fell back to slumber and the town finally dipped into blissful quiet.

With the new day finally upon them, the fog began to retreat. However not before every pool of man-seed that the citizens had spilled began to evaporate rapidly into white, gaseous mist. Every tendril of the unnatural state joined its bigger brother, becoming the one, nebulous form. Every man produced litres and it took another half hour before every drop was gone, wiping almost all evidence of the night's activities. Just a small fragment was left behind to tantalise the men. Even this portion was enough to fill an entire glass though a full load would have been more than enough to soak their entire beds.

The fog retreated, disappearing once more from whence I came.

All the while, a wolf watched.

*********

Day 2

*********

There was a downside to having just a rough amalgamation of knowledge about mechanics and no specialised individual in terms of cars. While Mark could identify what was wrong - the engine was a bust and it looked like a lot of the pipes had been eroded so badly that it was a surprise the car held together the way it did - fixing it was a problem. Not to mention getting the parts. There was a junkyard on the other side of town where Mark would happily go grab them some of the much needed equipment but it would take a few days to scrounge everything up. Plus, it looked like some things had to be ordered in.

With a groan, Lincoln began to seriously just consider selling the car for scrap and buying themselves a ride back home. But then Mark had offered them a place to stay while the car was fixed. Loving that damn bomb the way he did, Lincoln couldn't refuse but insisted that he pull their weight around the farm or at least do something to repay the debt. Mark said it wasn't any trouble at all but Lincoln was very persuasive.

So, on that first night, Lincoln had made them all dinner to which the Matthews were very pleased. He was afraid Roderick would be opposed to the idea of staying any longer but it surprised him when his son thought it was a great idea.

Bedding became the problem, though. Despite the size of the farmhouse, there were only really two bedrooms - one for Mark and the other for Stan. Stan had enough space in his room to fit the sleeping bag that Roderick had bought but Lincoln had to sleep elsewhere. Sleeping in another man's room while that same man was putting them up and helping him fix his car was just too much. Lincoln was content to sleep on the couch.

Sure he woke the next day a little sore but it was a new day and that meant he had easy access to the kitchen. Breakfast was a hearty meal of eggs benedict with some salad and just a few slivers of bacon. After sharing their plans, Mark insisted that Lincoln stay at home while he got the stuff from the junkyard and placed the orders as Lincoln tried to fix the one thing he could on the car - the door. In the meantime, Stan was to try and teach Roderick horseback riding and to see if they could get some of the chores done around the farm.

It was almost midday when Mark returned, the back of his truck brimming with new parts for Lincoln's car. He also came back bearing a rather large grin.

"Hey, Cole!" shouted the cheery head of the household excitedly. He was sweating up a storm and the moment he stepped into the garage, Lincoln was hit by a wave of manly musk that almost knocked him over. The sun glistened off his perfectly cleanly shaven, bronzed skin and that big, broad smile of lit up the dark of the garage. "Good news!"

"You got everything?" asked Lincoln, trying to breathe through his clenched teeth vaguely arranged in a grin.

"Not quite! But I just learned that the farm next to ours has a _hell_of a lot of car parts! It's been abandoned for a long time but the owner said we can go nuts with the parts!"

"Really? You're serious?" Lincoln was instantly suspicious. "What's the catch?"

Mark glanced away and rubbed the back of his neck. "We have to clean the place up. I think he's planning to sell it or something."

Those were agreeable terms. After all, they were essentially using junk the owner had dumped in the garage a long time ago. He insisted on bringing the car over there immediately. Roderick was busy trying to approach a rather unruly white stallion with Stan guiding him gently so Lincoln just left a note. Mark was more vocal and shouted their intentions halfway across the farm. Thankfully, Stan understood and waved a big, meaty arm in response.

With their offspring officially informed, the two men jumped into their respective vehicles with Mark's truck once again pushing Lincoln's husk down the dusty road. Though it was only the next farm over, it still took them a good five minutes of pushing to near the farmhouse.

As Mark had advertised, the place was well-kempt. The farmhouse was wide and only a single storey but every tile on its roof was perfectly clean, the paint was unbroken, the windows shone with polish and the vast swathes of grassland yet untouched by agriculture were kept neatly trimmed. It honestly surprised him how this place was so clean. Perhaps the only part of the land that was not so neat was the pile of junk that rested to the right of the garage but even then, the junk was sorted with signs indicating their contents down to a full inventory.

They pushed his car the rest of the way into the open garage which was fully equipped with a large variety of tools made just for performing a DIY car repair. Nothing extensive but it would be enough... hopefully.

Lincoln eagerly went to the side of the garage to look at the piles. Regarding the list of parts that he and Mark had come up with the previous night, he confirmed that he indeed had the majority of the parts save for a few rare components built specifically for his model.

A loud grunt of effort from behind him followed by a soft _whump_reminded him that there were several parts still in the back of Mark's truck. Like a young boy once eager to put together his first model car, he bolted towards the truck and began pulling down the equipment and carrying them to the garage. He didn't care at all that he only picked up a few small pieces here and there while Mark carried _enormous_piles by himself. The new doors Mark carried at once, his massive muscles bunching with the effort.

"Okay!" Mark exclaimed, wiping his brow. Lincoln got a blast of the man's strong, manly scent and a peek at the fluff of dark brown hair that was tipped with blonde nestled in his armpit, matching the short, youthful crop on his head. "Let's start on this sucker. What do you want to start on?"

Lincoln was eager to start on the engine first but they didn't have enough parts yet. ETA was in two days.

"How about we get the doors fixed up?" he suggested. "I'm always scared someone will break into my girl because there's a particular way you have to work the locks to get it to actually lock."

Mark agreed and they quickly began to pull the car apart. A part of Lincoln died a little as they began tearing off the old, rusted doors and stripping the old girl down. After taking out the engine and the guts, the car was left just a bare, skeletal frame. Suddenly, Lincoln was having doubts. Was this still going to be his baby after they effectively replaced every inch of her with different parts? It would get them from point A to point B easily enough but where was its soul?

He dismissed such thoughts. It was still his car. Besides, they could still keep a few things like the steering wheel or a few of the seats. That would make it feel like home. Though as he looked at the torn and shredded back seats, he wondered how he had ever driven Roderick to soccer practice with his wife in those things.

"Phew!" Mark exclaimed loudly as he put the seat down. "These things look like they've been through hell!" He ran a finger down one of the many gashes across the back. "Huh... These look like claw marks."

"Yeah," Lincoln admitted with a blush. "I've had this car since I was sixteen. I had a few... partners before I met my wife. Some with... claws."

Mark looked alarmed, both his thick, brown eyebrows raised and a worried expression on his face. "Really?"

"Yeah," he answered. Lincoln shook his head as he ran his hands across the back seat. "It was that year where every girl had really long nails. Some of the guys too. Hurt like hell but apparently, that was 'sexy' back then."

The worried expression dropped off Mark's face. "You dog! All the girls were over you, huh?"

"Mostly."

Mark raised one nicely shaped eyebrow. "Mostly?"

"Well... I was quite a stud twenty-five years ago," Lincoln admitted, working to unscrew the steering wheel. "And... well, teenager are teenagers and sometimes you just need to get off. When your best bud is horny and you're horny... well..."

...

Mark made no reply and Roderick's words of 'Hicksville' came haunting him again. He feared that this was one of those towns that was so 'anti-gay' that any mention of same-sex interactions would lead to him being lynched and his son being shoved into some sort of purity ritual that involved branding and brainwashing. When he straightened with the steering wheel in his hands, he half-expected Mark to be standing there with a crucifix and a blowtorch, ready to graft the thing into his chest.

To his surprise, Mark was comically struggling with pulling his tight-fitting white shirt over his head. His chiselled abdominals and broad, square pecs were exposed in the noonday sunlight. His copper flesh glistened like true metal flecked with bits of gold, the shadows accentuating each and every curve on his Adonis body. The only think that reminded him that this was not a statue but a living man were the multitude of thick veins that pumped blood into those juicy muscles, mostly originating from his shoulders and fading into his perfect pecs. Lincoln found himself inadvertently shrinking back in fear of the godly man with thoughts of 'rape the gay' flooding his mind.

But that fear vanished almost instantly when Mark let out a soft whimper. He was stuck. His shirt and massive shoulders would not move any more past just above his erect, pink nipples.

"Little help?" the farmer asked.

"What were you trying to do?" laughed Lincoln. "Impress me?"

"No," came the growl. "I don't expect a scrawny city boy like you to understand."

"Ah, the differences between men of different upbringings," Lincoln laughed, gripping the edges of Mark's shirt and pulling it upwards. He had to jump about a foot into the air just to get the fabric to slip over Mark's head. "Honestly, why do you even bother wearing a shirt?"

"Because I'm in polite company," answered Mark with a roll of his eyes. He tossed the shirt aside and turned to continue clearing the space around the car. He bent over, giving Lincoln a clear view of his very shapely rear. "But since you apparently don't mind seeing another guy half naked, there's no issue with me being stripped down to be more comfortable." He stopped and glanced over his shoulder, a playful glint in his eyes. "There is no issue, right?"

Lincoln waved the concern away and also in a vain attempt to cool himself off. "Yeah, I'm good. Besides, you've still got your pants on."

"Well, I'd rather not."

Smiling, Lincoln said, "Whoa, we just met. Take me out to dinner first."

Not to be outdone, Mark straightened and crossed his arms. His pecs bounced seductively, the firm muscles jostling on some command Lincoln could never fathom. "Well, I know this neat 60's style restaurant in town that make a killer burger and fries. But if you want to go fancy, there's always Giuseppe's."

Lincoln had already had a set of jibes geared and ready to disarm his host but then he stopped himself with a question. "Um... Are we flirting? And can you stop that?" He gestured at Mark's bouncing pectorals. "It's distracting."

Mark gave him a series of confused blinks and his cocky stance quickly faded. Though he stopped his display of muscular dexterity, there was no denying the cocky smile on his face. "I don't know. Are we?"

Coughing like he was clearing his throat, Lincoln turned around and muttered something about starting to work on the car. He was kicking himself for being so open about his past sexcapades especially ones that were heterosexual when this hunk clearly was into guys. He was an open minded kind of guy but he could never date let alone sleep with a guy like Mark... no matter how hunky he was.

But the fact that Mark had actually taken the news rather well and even proceeded to flirt with him...

"Just to make sure," he said, setting down the powered screwdriver. "We _weren't_flirting, right?"

Mark shrugged as he pulled off the other door. "Like I said, I'm not sure."

"Okay."

Lincoln had unscrewed another screw when he straightened again. "Can we just agree that it meant nothing?"

"It meant nothing," Mark answered with a coy little smile. That gesture alone and the fact that his broad, rosy lips were split into a smile was very unconvincing.

The unfortunate part was, Lincoln could not get that tiny exchange out of his head! He kept replaying it over and over again and in the back of his mind, he saw the faintest 'come-hither' look in Mark's eyes. Not to mention now that Mark was mostly naked made Lincoln want to touch those rippling muscles if only to know what it felt like to touch them.

"Just so you know," Lincoln said, straightening. "I'm not against two guys flirting with one another."

"Oh really?" Mark was pretending to not notice as he worked to clean out the frame of the car.

"Yeah. This one day, back in high school, I was tutoring the high school quarterback. Then this blizzard hit and we were snowed in. My parents were locked in the city somewhere and they decided to just get a hotel room." Lincoln began waving the screwdriver in his hand absently. "I had to entertain the most popular guy in school and I tried to cook him something but it was terrible. Kind of inspired me to become a chef."

"Really? The high school quarterback inspired you to become a chef?" Mark straightened, completely avoiding Lincoln's gaze and bent back over to pick up another tool. Lincoln just had to peer over the car to see that mountainous back.

"Yeah... Because I sort of... dated him afterwards," Lincoln admitted.

"That's good."

He had been hoping for a bigger reaction. Something of along the lines of, 'You slept with another man?' shouted in a high-pitched voice uncharacteristic of the trunk-like, veiny throat Mark possessed followed by a not so subtle question of, 'Did you like it?'

"Of course I liked it."

Mark finally met his gaze. "Liked what? Dating him?"

Lincoln mentally kicked himself for having answered his own fantasy instead of remaining firmly rooted in reality. "Yeah. Didn't last though. I found someone else and he is happily married with three kids of his own." He shrugged and quickly returned to his work which involved twisting his screwdriver in a not so metaphorical way. "We still keep in touch but that was a _long_time ago."

But not so long ago that the memories of him and his then-boyfriend fucking wildly in the backseat of this very car didn't stir his groin.

"Um... Did you manage to bring some of that awesome lemonade from yesterday?" he asked.

Mark shook his head. "Huh? Oh, sorry. I thought we'd just be dropping he car off for now. Didn't think you'd want to work on it straight away. Tell you what? You keep working and I'll brew up as batch. Probably make us some sandwiches in case you're hungry. Roast beef okay?"

He nodded roughly, pretending to lean down towards the backseat like he was trying to examine it. "Sure. Sounds good."

"'Kay. Be back in a bit."

The sounds of Mark's truck driving away was almost a relief. Lincoln glanced down at his pants and scowled at the prominent tent there.

"Stop that," he grumbled.

Mark's musk was everywhere despite the open garage and just thinking about his hot, sweaty, muscular body made buried feelings well inside the man. He shook his head and decided that a distraction was necessary. The deal with the owner of the house was to clean up the home in exchange for the parts and use of the garage. So Lincoln decided to scout out just how much cleaning he had to do.

As a single father, he was used to it but it came as a surprise when he entered the house and found it barren, empty but relatively clean. A fine layer of dust covered the walls and floors and there were a few stray leaves and bits of grass that had flown in but there was nothing truly problematic to clean. No black mould, no rat holes, no water damage, nothing. In fact, after a quick vacuum and polish, he was pretty sure the place would be perfect for an inspection.

He absently wandered through the house, marvelling at the size. Where the Matthews' home was large both vertically and horizontally, this home had a high ceiling and very expansive rooms despite being just a single storey. There was also a cellar and when Lincoln opened the door to peer inside, he could detect the faintest waft of wine. He flicked on the lights. Vast empty wine racks lined the walls.

"Must've been a wine lover's place," he muttered, turning away from the cellar.

There were only two bedrooms in the home but both were quite big and uniquely constructed. The smaller bedroom was split into two. The first half was on the same level as the rest of the house but the second sunk into the ground about three feet with a short flight of stairs leading into it. It was perfectly sized to allow for a bed to fit in there and for anyone to not immediately see the bed upon entering.

A door connected the bedroom to a broad en suite with two sinks, a broad mirror and a walk-in shower and a Jacuzzi. Only a think, glass wall separated the shower from the rest of the bathroom. Strangely, there was another door on the other end of the bathroom and as he wandered towards it, he found that it led into the master bedroom. Unlike the first bedroom, this one was perfectly flat but still oddly shaped. A lot of natural light streamed in especially from the large alcove on the far end of the room where Lincoln imagined a table or maybe even a bed could sit.

Lincoln wondered what it would be to live in a house like this and sighed. Never in a million years. He didn't have enough money to rent this place let alone buy it and it was just so far from his current job. Not that he really liked being a chef but after years of studying his passion and turning it into a job... well, it made what he liked to do into something he had to do and that sapped the creativity from his bones. Plus he had Roderick going to college so that was another debt...

He heard the sound of footsteps echoing behind him and he glanced over his shoulder. The faintest glimmer of movement darted out from the corner of his eye, disappearing into the connecting bathroom.

"Mark?" he cried out. "Is that you?"

There was no response. Curious, he wandered back into the bathroom. It was just as empty and as fancy as ever. Despite the summer heat, Lincoln found himself shivering. A faint tingling crawled across his neck like a fly was dancing across skin. He slapped the back of his neck and checked his hand. Nothing there.

Something moved.

Something just in the periphery of his vision while he was focusing on his fingers.

"Mark? This isn't funny."

He headed into the smaller bedroom. Just as empty as it had been a minute ago.

That chill came back and this time, Lincoln visibly shivered. He hugged himself. To his surprise his breath condensed in front of his lips. His blood felt cold in his veins and he began backing away, taking step by step back into the bathroom.

There was that movement again, just from the corner of his eye.

He spun towards the Jacuzzi and he thought he caught sight of... of a tail? Heart racing, he stormed over to the tub just to make sure Mark wasn't hiding inside just to scare him. Nothing.

"Okay... I'm just freaking myself out..." He took a deep breath... and led it out slowly. It condensed into a thick cloud in front of him. Ignoring it for the moment, he spun around to face the mirror over the sink...

... and a man was staring straight back at him.

Not truly a man. It was... a wolf of some sort that had the build of a man but the head of a wolf. Dressed in a suit, brown eyes burning straight into Lincoln's soul. The creature stood in reflection, in the tub just _inches_away from Lincoln and staring at him through the reflection.

"Holy shit!" Lincoln spun back around... but there was no man-wolf there.

His rapid breathing stopped condensing and he rubbed his eyes.

"Fuck me..." he whispered. "I'm just seeing things."

Then he turned back towards the mirror.

And screamed.

Lincoln Heath toppled back into the tub and for the briefest of moments, the mirror and its message dropped out of view. He banged his head on the hard porcelain and whether it was from the shock or just the fear, he dropped into unconsciousness.

On the mirror, glazed over with moisture... was a message like someone had drawn the letters through the droplets with their finger.

'Feed the Need'.

*****

The sun was already starting to set when Roderick collapsed onto the couch with a heavy sigh. Farm work was hard. He never thought it was easy but after the day he just had, he had a new appreciation and understanding of how Stan could be so big and buff.

"How long have you been doing this?" he said, groaning as his muscles protested at the abuse he had put himself through. His thighs and ass hurt the most after he had been thrown off Whiteshadow so many times. After the twelfth time, Stan had insisted he try riding a horse himself and let him run around with Stormwing. It still hurt and when they started checking on the crops and the rest of the farm animals, he was about ready to give up his soul and pass onto the next life if only to stop the hurting. Not to mention that his allergies were really kicking up but that inconvenience faded with the pain in the rest of his body.

Being in the cooling embrace of the house was a great relief.

"What? Taking care of the farm?" asked Stan. "My whole life."

Typical farm boy.

"Well, not my whole life," Stan said with a shrug. "I mean, a good year or so of it is spent getting out of diapers and drooling. Not to mention the years I spent in school. These days, I only get to help on breaks from college."

Suddenly forgetting all his pain, Roderick sat up and stared at the young man with a frown. "You go to college?"

"Uh... Yeah," replied the apparently educated teenager with a mirroring frown. "What? Did you think I was some sort of backwater redneck that only knows how to shovel shit and is obsessed with his gun?"

"I -"

"Because I've got two guns I'm obsessed with." Stan lifted his arms, flexing his enormous biceps that bulged right out of his tight fitting, black shirt. "Bam! Bam!"

Roderick may have been staring a little too long as Stan was already lowering his arms before he even contemplated a reply. "Where do you go to school?"

"To the Ultima Acadimiae. It's one of the three major colleges in Wolfholme."

"You have three colleges here?"

"Well yeah," laughed Stan like it was common knowledge. "I mean, we're in the middle of nowhere so if we don't have any sort of competition between other colleges, then we'd have nothing to shoot for!" Stan began ticking off the colleges. "So there's UA, Hartsteilm_College and _Ophanim. All three have a pretty big rivalry going on."

How three colleges could fit in what appeared to be a small town and still be so competitive was beyond Roderick. "Really?" he asked politely.

"Yeah. It's because UA is sponsored by NexSports, Hartsteilm is headed up by NexStay and NexGen while _Ophanim_is funded by N-Way and NexArm."

Now Roderick was even more puzzled. "What?"

"Didn't you know? The whole town is looked after by the Nexus Conglomerate."

"I've never heard of them."

"Are you sure?"

Roderick scratched his left cheek lightly. "I may have heard about them on some internet blog or something but I've never actually seen any of their products or really know what they are."

"They're this big collection of companies that work together to make life better!" exclaimed Stan with a big grin. "They provide free electricity, water and gas to the entire city and they have this system where everyone gets free education up to college graduate level."

"Let me guess? You have to work for them for a bit, though."

Stan shrugged absently. "Hey, they're a company and need to make money. I'm signed up to help my dad on the farm which is supported by AgriNex."

That explained a lot. With a degree of bitterness, Roderick asked, "So this isn't your farm?"

"Oh no, it's ours. My dad paid off the company ages ago and bought the farm for us. But I'm going to be researching the application of various experimental fertilisers and natural solutions to growing crops on my dad's farm."

Research? Natural solutions? Experimental? "Just what are you studying?"

"Biochemistry," replied Stan with a shrug like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I want to work for the pharmaceutical branch of the _Conglomerate_but they aren't accepting hires right now but AgriNex is just as good and there's always a transfer program between companies."

It was too good to be true. There had to be a catch. "So the companies provide free products, free education and free utilities and housing? And they still _pay_you for work? How are they making money?"

Stan laughed, slapping the couch with a big paw. "Money? Oh no. We have a rather loose barter system here in Wolfholme. You want something? You work for it."

"What? What about those milkshakes back at that bar?"

"Oh! You thought a 'buck' was a dollar!" Stan smirked. "That's cute. Oh no, the owner likes his milk 'fresh', so to speak. And by that, I mean a 'buck' is me and him 'bucking' in the back because you know -"

Horrified, Roderick managed the strength to throw his hands up and scream, "I get it! Oh God Almighty, I get it!"

Stan's laughter made him blush especially when Stan gripped his wrists and pulled them down to his lap. "I'm kidding, Rod. Remember, my dad bought_the farm from AgriNex while working for them too. They get a lot out of this and so do we. Trust me, it's a good life. You don't have to worry about getting sick because healthcare is free. Food is provided by the farms that supply their stock straight to consumers or to AgriNex if they're under contract. Education is given for free and we have everything we need. Hell, my dad and I recently renovated this place with the help of our neighbours." Stan grinned broadly. "The thing is, we _are the Nexus Conglomerate. The people we work for and the people who work for us are our neighbours and friends. Sure the main company is headed elsewhere but the branches here in Wolfholme, they're us."

Roderick was silent for a long, long time. It pained him when Stan sighed and gave him this pitying look.

"I get it," the big farm boy said. "You think we're just some backwater, redneck town that's inbred and who 'take care of our own'." He added the last few words in a very impressive hillbilly accent. "Tell you what? Tomorrow, come to the college with me. I'll show you exactly how good we have it here."

If Roderick Heath was anything, he was a stubborn and some part of him didn't want his misconception of this farm boy to be dismissed so easily... even if it was horrible. "You know what?" he asked, holding out his hand. "Okay."

Stan consumed his hand in one, massive hand and gave it a single firm shake. Then, with his other he lifted a finger a sly grin on his face. "On one condition."

"What? You can't put a condition! We've already shaken on it!"

"One shake is a greeting. Two shakes is an agreement. More than two and it's a wank." Stan's grin grew broader. "And we're going to go the campus on horseback."

"What!?" Stan gave Roderick one more shake before letting go and grinning. The young man scowled. "I'll get you back for this."

The two boys laughed loudly and sat back down on the couch just as the door to the farmhouse opened.

"Are you sure you'll be okay?" said the elder farmer as he lead Lincoln into the house.

"I'm fine," Lincoln muttered, walking into Roderick's view. He was holding the back of his head.

"Are you alright?" Roderick asked, half-rising out of his seat.

"Yeah," answered his father. "I'm going to get started on dinner."

And with that, he was gone. When Roderick gave Mark Matthews a questioning look, the elder of the farmers just laughed.

"I found him sleeping in the tub next door." Mark placed his big hands on his hips, a smile on his face. "I think he's starting to like it here."

*****

As with the night before, the mist encroached upon the world of Wolfholme. It spread into the homes of its citizens, blanketing the entire township. At exactly 11 o'clock, it touched every single citizen in the town.

When it reached the Matthews' home, Lincoln Heath was fast asleep but struggling with the nightmare of a frightening wolf-like creature. When the mist touched him, he calmed and the thought of that frightening visage faded into memories of a hunky high schooler brimming with muscles and that cold, winter's night they spent in each other's arms, keeping one another warm.

As the warmth of their bodies grew and clothing was lost, his former boyfriend's muscles grew, his pecs becoming huge, firm and decorated by delicious veins. The rounded features that the then beau complained about as he always wanted that 'All-American' square jaw faded. Sharp, chiselled features took place of the youthful features, eyes shining with experience and desire...

"Mark..." murmured Lincoln.

That night, Lincoln Heath quivered with the onset of a wet dream.

On the second floor, Mark was having a similar dream as he unconsciously inhaled the mist. His lips curled into a smile the same time Lincoln murmured his name and he proceeded on his nightly ritual of finding pleasure in his own fantasy.

Across the hallway, Roderick was wide awake, mulling over the thoughts of the day.

Again, he did not notice the fog in the dead of night but he did notice when Stan began moaning in his sleep again.

This time, Roderick got just a little hard and he licked his lips ever so slightly.

*********

Day 3

*********

Ultima Acadimiae was true to its name.

It was the ultimate college.

It was incredibly hard to believe that the campus was big enough to sport its own football field, hockey field and other various sporting establishments. Apparently, of the three colleges in the town, UA was the most sporting. Hartsteilm was more of a preppy school for the rich and scientifically inclined while Ophanim had a rich tradition geared around the arts and law. Ophanim even had ties with the military apparently.

But what truly impressed Roderick was just how... modern the buildings were. UA's sports facility was big, broad and looked right out of the future. It had sweeping glass walls mixed and shaped with organic lines and shapes while at the same time possessing sharp angles here and there. The quad was broad, open and grassy while possessing an outdoor gym that was populated by guys stripped down to just their shorts and working out even though it was the middle of summer vacation. There were dozens of large three-storey buildings each with their own specialisations and with his pass, Stan allowed Roderick to get them both into the biochemistry labs which had some of the most advanced equipment he had ever seen. He was pretty sure there was a sign over a vat that said 'Warning: nanobots'.

"This place is amazing!" Roderick exclaimed. "How come I've never heard of these colleges before?"

Stan shrugged as they wandered the hallways of the labs. "I think it's because most alumni don't like leaving the town. I mean, some do go off to work with other opportunities with the Nexus Conglomerate but in reality, most people stay."

Roderick glanced at the portraits of all the graduates and the massive group pictures of certain classes. Something struck him as odd about them all. It took him a whole minute discern what it was.

"All the graduates are male...

"Well, not all of them," added Stan. "There are a few chicks here and there."

Roderick didn't want to mention that every graduate was also buff as hell. It was like looking at a wall of muscle and playing a game of spot the geek. Even the professors, no matter how far into their years, were fit and muscular.

"Now before you say anything," Stan said, holding up his hands. "We're not some sexist society that don't let women get an education. It just so happens that... well... erm..."

Roderick eyed his friend suspiciously. "What?"

"Well... there aren't any girls in town."

That made him blink multiple times. "Wait... You're serious?"

"Yeah," came the response. "I mean, girls come and go occasionally. We get traffic but they never stay. Not really. Some stay here for a year, maybe two but then they just leave. Honestly, it's a surprise if a girl stays more than a week. And..." Stan held up a hand. "Before you say anything, our town keeps up its population because guys just like to stay. I dunno. We're not _intentionally_sexist. It's just how things work, you know?"

Roderick couldn't deny that while people tried to be diverse, there would always be that inexplicable pull that would attract like-kind people to one another. Whether it was because of race, height, interests or a mutual hate for someone, it didn't matter. It just so happens that with Wolfholme, it was that attraction was more physical.

"Your town..." he said dismissively before he suddenly changed his mind. "It's a nice campus."

"Have I convinced you we aren't some backwater, redneck, hillbilly town yet?" Stan asked, his charming smile once again brightening the room.

Roderick smiled and glanced out the window at the vast campus and the equally vast town beyond. It was nowhere near as big as Los Angeles but it was still a good sized city especially one to house three colleges. It was quaint, quiet and had a very homey feel about it.

"No," he said.

Stan's features dropped.

"You've convinced me that this town is a progressive, advanced, peaceful town that is still incredibly backwater. I mean this place isn't even on any maps!"

Roderick laughed. "Yeah, that's our town poem... 'There once was a town with no mark on the map.'"

"A place filled with wonder, but made as a trap ,"finishedRoderick.

"Huh..." came Stan surprised voice. "You already knew that?" The big guy suddenly wrapped his huge arms around Roderick's neck, squeezing the young man tight. "Aww! You're already becoming one of us! One of us! One of us! One of us!" he chanted.

"Dork!" laughed Roderick, wiggling out from underneath his grip. "Come on. I've seen enough."

"You just want to ride Stormwing back to the farm, show-off."

"Stormwing isn't the one I want to ride," answered Roderick with the slyest wink.

Stan's jaw dropped and let out a cute series of stammers.

*****

Lincoln sighed heavily and regarded the mess which was his pride and joy... well... it really wasn't any of that at the moment anymore. It was more like a skeleton. Fitting really considering how he was making such little progress with it. Mark knew a lot about picking apart a car but putting it back together... that was a different matter entirely.

"So..." began Mark, leaning his enormous weight on the frame. "Where does this go?" He held up a strange square tube of some sort.

"I have no clue," answered Lincoln with a resigned sigh. A growl escaped his throat. He threw down his wrench. "I have no fucking clue!"

"Whoa! Whoa! Easy there!" exclaimed Mark, holding up his hands. He navigated around the minefield which was the mess of spare parts that they had tried to place into the skeleton. As it turns out, putting the car back together was like putting together a puzzle but with extra puzzle pieces just to mess with him. Mark's big, arm wrapped around Lincoln's shoulder, the warmth he radiated somehow cooling. "Take it easy, man. We'll put this baby together."

"When?" he grunted. "I'm spending more time in the garage than with my son and I promised him that this would be a trip where we'd bond. He's going off to college in a few weeks and he'll be living on campus! I won't see him for days!"

Mark regarded him curiously. "What happened to your wife?"

"Dead, remember?"

Mark gave him a puzzled look. "You never told me your wife was dead. And I'm sorry, I didn't know."

Lincoln shook his head and reached down the collar of his shirt. He retrieved a thin, golden necklace with an oval pendant hanging from it. A quick flick of the hatch and his smiling, younger features when he was still skinny without the slight paunch in his belly and when he wore a beard stared back at him with smiling, hopeful eyes. Sitting beside him, her arms wrapped around their young boy, was his wife.

"Oh right... Sorry... I guess after last night and everything that's happened I'm a little... eager to find some progress."

Mark shook his head, peering over Lincoln's shoulder. "I get it. Raising a kid takes up all your time and your life seems to be on pause until they're out of the house. But when they are out, you instantly don't want them to leave."

Lincoln suddenly found himself being guided over to the two lawn chairs Mark had brought over for their breaks. He was forcibly pushed into the seat and a cold glass of lemonade pressed into his hands. After taking a sip, he decided he needed more to cool down and drained the glass. He set down the glass on the armrest only for Mark to fill it up again.

"Ever since Ellen died, I've been so busy at work that I hardly ever got any time to myself," he admitted. "What little time I could have was spent trying to bond with my son. But now, Roderick is heading off to college and I find myself regretting all the time I wasted being at work and not with him." Lincoln let out a heavy sigh and took another long drink from his glass.

A big hand gently patted his shoulder. "Hey, hey. It's okay." Mark's smile eased Lincoln's sorrow somewhat. "Have you even talked to your son about this? From what it sounds like, you kind forced this whole trip on him without considering his feelings."

That only made Lincoln feel even worse. "I guess I had this image in my head where I would take my reluctant son on a camping trip, something spectacular would happen and then we'd bond and leave on a heart-warming note." He gave Mark a shaky smile. "I guess things don't quite turn out the way in movies, huh?"

"They never turn out like they do in movies." They sat in silence for a long moment with only the sound of Mark sipping his lemonade loudly. It was the sort of thing Lincoln would chastise his son over but on the big, buff, clean farmer it was sort of cute. "So how'd your wife pass, if you don't mind me asking?"

Lincoln sighed. "Cancer. Doctors gave her six months to live. She made it eighteen. She was strong but in the end..." He shook his head. "But that was years ago when Roderick was just a kid. I think that's kind of cause the rift between us..." He looked up at Mark. "What about you? Wife passed?"

"Naw. Bitch dumped Stan on me and left."

He winced at that. "Ouch. Accidental pregnancy?"

"That's the funny part," chuckled Mark. "We planned it. Wanted to get married as soon as possible but one thing kept interfering and we decided to have the wedding a few months after Stan was born. But then Stan was premature and... well..." Mark leaned back, avoiding Lincoln's gaze. His jaw hardened in a peculiar way. "Have you heard of postpartum psychosis?"

"Erm..."

"It's basically when after giving birth, the mother goes nuts." Mark shook his head. "She wasn't in any state to take care of a child especially when she almost scrubbed Stan raw while trying to bathe him one day. One day, she just had enough and left us. Just told us she had enough within earshot of Stan, calling him the 'turd' she never wanted and left."

Lincoln winced. "That's horrible... Did you at least talk to her? Call a lawyer?"

"We weren't married, remember? No legal right for either of us to take care of the kid except for common decency." Mark nodded with a smile on his face. "But I kept Stan. We moved out of the big city and came here. Got the farm and have been living happily ever since."

"I guess we all have different experiences with women," Lincoln said.

"And men."

He stopped short of taking a sip. "You too?"

Mark smirked at him and shrugged. "Hey, after a while back there, I got pretty depressed and swore off women. I whored myself out pretty badly in town to guys of all flavours."

"What turned you straight - erm, you know..."

Mark laughed and lifted his glass. "Stan did. He kind of caught me in bed with a guy and the look in his eyes..." Shaking his head, Mark said, "I'd do anything for my son and I can tell you would do the same."

Lincoln smiled and lifted his own glass. "To our sons."

"The young men who will always keep us on the straight and narrow," agreed Mark. They toasted with a satisfying clink as their perpetually cold glasses dripped with moisture. Lincoln did not even question how the glasses could maintain such a cool temperature despite the heat. He had learned that the entire town was run by one mega-corporation, the Nexus Conglomerate, and that their innovations were what made living here so comfortable. One such innovation was the perpetually cold glasses.

Mark drained his lemonade with a content sigh. He rose from his seat and stretched, those big muscles of his arrayed beautifully beneath his skin and scant clothing. Lincoln allowed himself a long moment to stare. He was fairly sure Mark was showing off on purpose anyway. The blood rushing to his cock wasn't something he was ashamed of either.

"Okay," exclaimed his host. "Back to work?"

Lincoln drained his own lemonade and set it on the armrest. "How about we start cleaning this place up a little? I'd like to at least have accomplished _something_today."

Mark made no argument as they picked up a pair of brooms and a vacuum cleaner. They both agreed to start at opposite ends of the house and work their way to the middle. Lincoln went straight to the oddly shaped rooms. As he entered the smaller room, he could not help but transpose some of Roderick's furniture in the space with his mind. Roderick's bookshelf filled with action figures would rest on the left. His bed would naturally sit in the large depression on the other end of the room and he'd probably have his TV at the foot of the bed to ensure no glare came in from the window high above him. The rest of the room would probably house a desk and chair.

Lincoln absently sighed and wondered what it would be like to own a place like this. Sweeping every inch of the floor made him realise just how big_it was. There was definitely something missing in the scene. There needed to be carpet, colour, _life in the place. Everything here was just so... barren. Add to that the lack of circulation and the house, no matter how spacious, was like an oven.

He grunted as he yanked off his grease-covered shirt, leaving with him a white singlet that hung from his shoulders like a rag but neatly tucked into his pants to prevent anyone from seeing just how oversized it was. A breeze came in from the door and gently caressed the light dusting of dark brown hair on his chest. Against his pale skin, every strand was clearly visible and the painfully straight bands looked wilted against his unimpressive, flat chest. A pang of jealousy hit him as he remembered both Mark and Stan's godly bodies. He entertained the thought of staying in this town and working out with his son to become as big and manly as the two Matthews. Hell, the basement could be their gym. It was big enough and neither of them drank wine.

But that was a far-off fantasy and Lincoln tossed his shirt absently over his shoulder.

"Mmmrf! Hey!" Mark tossed the shirt towards the ground, his nose wrinkled in disgust. "What was that for?"

Lincoln laughed softly. "Sorry. I was just feeling a little hot."

The small smiled crossing Mark's features told him there was another bout of flirting on its way. Lincoln braced himself, trying to not smile. "Yeah you were."

"I didn't know you were behind me."

"Yeah you did."

Some alpha-male gene kicked in Lincoln. After suffering the frustration of little progress with the car, he didn't want to give up and succumb to Mark's lewd jokes. If anything, he was going to make Mark back down.

"Finished cleaning up already?" he asked.

Mark leaned against the doorway, clutching the broom in his hands just over his crotch in such a way that it implied he was holding a boner. "I could always get messier."

Lincoln took a step forward. The scent of the hunky man drew him a step closer than he had intended. "Why don't you take off those filthy overalls?"

That disarmed Mark for a second, enough to have him loosen his grip on the broomstick. "You want to clean this place up au natural?" His right hand was already working to unbuckle the shoulder straps of his dust-stained overalls.

Though it did mean losing some ground, Lincoln allowed himself a few moments to stare as Mark's overalls dropped to the man's big, heavy feet covered in those dusty workboots. There was a pang of disappointment when he saw the tight-fitting boxers that kept the very erect package hidden and hugged a pair of cut, trunk-like thighs from his view.

"You don't seem too natural with those boxers," he commented.

"This coming from the guy still wearing shorts and a singlet."

Suddenly feeling a lot sexier, Lincoln slipped the broom between his legs and twisted to his right so that he faced Mark side-on. He slowly and tauntingly lifted his singlet over his head, lightly bucking his hips with the suggestively placed broom gently twitching between his legs. Once the singlet was discarded to the floor, he ran his bare hands over his nipples.

Then he got a look at Mark and realised just how stupid he must've looked trying to act sexy in front of the muscle god in front of him. Stubbornness still won the day and he reached towards his belt. The buckle came off with a loud click. He heard Mark swallow loudly. Realising just what an advantage he had now, Lincoln decided to go all the way. He waved his hips side to side, almost effeminately. With each twist, he pulled his pants, briefs included, down an inch or so. He also began to turn away from Mark partially from embarrassment and partially because it must've been such torment for the guy to be beaten a gay chicken so badly.

That was when a big hand seized his rump and Lincoln instantly straightened, dropping the rest of his shorts and the broom. He felt a throbbing piece of meat press up against his ass, sliding over his tailbone and running up his spine up to his shoulder blades. A hot dribble of fiery liquid ran down his back.

Lincoln spun around and got splattered by a cup of salty clear fluids. Though he was well past six feet in height and incredibly muscular, the massive cock that Mark sported was still a monster in Lincoln's eyes. It had to come pretty darn close to two feet in length and would take both his hands to grip around the base! It's uncut tip hovered inviting against Lincoln's nose.

"Fuck... is this thing real...?" he murmured.

Mark pressed their bodies together. The engorged piece of meat pressed against Lincoln's chest throbbed with Mark's heartbeat. "As real as the rest of me. As real as you." A large hand gently cupped Lincoln's chin, tearing the man's eyes away from the pulsating member to meet the sexy farmer's eyes. "Let me show you how real."

Their lips pressed together. Where the warmth from Mark's cock felt superficial and died on the surface, the invasion of the man's tongue brought that sensation seeping down Lincoln's throat, passing his lungs and slipping into his stomach. Every muscle in his body twitched, at first guiding his arms hesitantly towards Mark. Then, with abrupt certainty, they seized the thick, vascular arm and pressed their bodies together in a passionate embrace.

The feeling of those hard, chiselled muscles against his flesh filled him with a yearning to have as much of his body touched by those hard curves decorated by thick, pulsing veins. The force of his passion brought them both to their knees with Lincoln slowly pushing Mark onto his strong back. Lincoln took a moment to run his hands over those thick lats, absolutely loving the firm, juicy meat beneath his fingers and how they framed the big 'V' shape of Mark's frame. He gently ran his fingers up the curves of Mark's flanks, admiring the sharp angle they made and just how they forced Mark's arms to hang far from his hips.

A soft giggle caused Mark to break their kiss and he fell back against the warm floor, smiling up at the naked chef who lay on top of him, his own five and a half inch cock throbbing and drooling its own bits of precum to join the venerable pool that was quickly forming beneath Mark. The farmer's earthy musk was everywhere. Lincoln had to shake his head in awe as the enormous cock and happily churning balls that kept pouring out the precum like a hose. Mark's chest was utterly soaked and the excess precum was pouring down his sides, dripping into his flanks, gathering against the floor.

"Whoa... Are we really doing this...?" Lincoln said, shaking his head. Even as he expressed his doubt, his hands were running up the length of Mark's thick member, pulling back the foreskin to reveal the juicy head burning bright red with desire. His thumbs pressed into the hard flesh, every pulse through thick veins reverberating through his body.

"I guess so," Mark answered with a smile. His big hands closed around Lincoln's, the both of them shuddering at the touch. "Don't tell me you're getting cold feet."

"With a hot stud like you right here?" He leaned down and gently kissed the tip of Mark's cock. A salty spray burst into his mouth. The strong musk and the warmth shooting down his throat was almost enough to make him cum there and then. He managed a smile and winked at the sexy beast. "Not likely."

He straightened and angled his cock against Mark's, pressing their dicks together. The warmth that radiated boiled his blood. He could almost feel the precum that was already in him jumping with joy, dancing in his veins as if beckoning for its thicker cousins. Lincoln panted loudly and found his arms growing incredibly weak as the heat and lust took over. His hips were bucking wildly, grinding his cock against Mark's, their balls bouncing against one another. They both panted wildly, sharp breaks breaking their desperate need for cooling. Lincoln suddenly found himself being pushed off Mark by large, calloused hands. The bite of the relatively cool floor was a bit of a shock but that was the last part of conscious thought he would have throughout the entire session.

Both men were running on autopilot. Mark's eyes were glazed with more than just lust. Despite stifling heat that hung in the air and the noon-day sun blazing down on them, a dense, white fog began creeping into the house. It swept through the doors, pouring out of vents and even faucets. It zeroed in on the two, coupling men, swirling around Mark and eagerly pouring down his throat. Mark curled his legs tightly around Lincoln's waist, massive thighs leaving no room for the man to move. Not that Lincoln minded or even noticed. The human's entire body went limp his arms falling to his sides and his eyes gazing off into the distance and not truly seeing... anything.

Mark's face twisted into a look of utter ecstasy and he whispered a soft affirmative as more of the mist slipped into his lungs. His naked body tensed and relaxed rapidly, the veins all over his body popping with strain. Every heavy breath he took drew in more and more of the fog, his huge chest bulging and straining like he had just done a hundred reps in the gym.

Every muscle on his body reached its limit, burning with strain but at the same time yearning for some indescribable, primal release. His cock was hard as steel and though it continued to squirt gallons of precum all over the near-comatose Lincoln, that small spark of release was not enough. He needed more.

"Feed... the Need," he groaned softly. "Must Feed the Need... Oooh-urgh!"

Mark arched his back, his bursting shoulder blades showing every strand of muscle that he had worked so tirelessly to maintain. His bronzed flesh flushed red, his neck straining with effort. He gnashed his teeth together, snapping constantly back and forth and even salivating a little.

"... the Need!" he rumbled, louder now. "Must Feed the Need!"

Mark suddenly tensed one more time, his whole body freezing for just a fraction of a second. Then, every muscle exploded with growth, shooting outwards as bone, flesh and vital organs twisted and filled with raw power. His already enormous feet were still encompassed by his large work boots but in that moment, his toes tore right through the thick leather. Large, black claws emerged from their tips, shredding the leather to bits. Mark grunted and grimaced as his growing feet ripped the shoes in half, separating the soles from the rest of the garment. Thick, black, leathery pads grew on bottom of his enlarged feet, emerging with the sounds of crackling, dry leaves. His calves ballooned out, the already large muscles broadening with new definition and becoming the size of his thick, juicy arms. Pulsating veins rolled up from his ankles, as big as some strands of rope and pushing his skin to the limit. One such vein was the last strain for the remnants of his shoes that hung pathetically around the base of his calf. It popped into existence and tore the leather right down the middle, leaving Mark completely and utterly naked.

All the while, Mark moaned softly, constantly whispering, 'Must Feed the Need'.

The growth rapidly spread up from Mark's calves to his knees where it did a double back and pumped more power into the appendage it had just left. The sound of cracking bone filled the entire room, completely going unnoticed by Lincoln. Mark's lower legs stretched, lengthening to add more and more height. His clawed feet scraped at the concrete floors, leaving deep grooves. The sandy blonde hair that covered Mark's legs thickened, growing rapidly and multiplying. They spread all over his legs, coating them in soft, short fur. Most of his thick veins were hidden by the sudden growth but the thicker, more prominent ones remained to tantalise observers.

Mark's thighs were next, surging outwards with each muscle group clearly defined even as the fur covered them. There was a brief moment when the lattice of veins were visible against his bare flesh but soon, it was consumed by the sandy fur that turned to pure white as it spread over his groin. His gargantuan balls gurgled, creating more and more semen, more than they could take. In response, to the need for storage, they grew, jostling heavily against Lincoln's groin with every inch of growth. They became the size of tennis balls, then softballs and then coconuts to suit Mark's enormous, growing frame. The white fur spread rapidly all over Mark's uncut cock, consuming it entirely and causing the transformation to seep into the man's very manhood.

The farmer moaned as what had been his foreskin began to peel back in the likeness of a canine sheath. What was revealed was not a human helmeted cock but the pointed tip of a wolf. Just like before, the change left his cock undeterred and it continued to pour gallons of precum all over Lincoln who was practically drowning in the stuff.

Mark groaned and fell on all fours, his new cock still pressed up against Lincoln's as the chased rolled up his rear and abdomen. His tight, muscular ass grew and hardened, losing all semblance of fat before being entirely consumed by sandy and white fur. He groaned loudly as pain rocketed up his rear, starting from his tailbone. A fleshy nub grew there, lengthening with each passing second. The fur rapidly consumed the nub, giving chase to its growing frame until a big, fluffy tail wagged behind Mark. The farmer grinned, opening his eyes for the first time during the entire ordeal, his brown orbs flashing with hunger and lust.

His eyes were forced shut one more time as the change shot up his abdominals, increasing the size of every muscle there and carving them into perfect squares. His pectorals ballooned out and were immediately consumed by the spreading fur. The loud moan that erupted from his throat grew deeper and deeper as his entire torso broadened, every cord of muscle across his chest becoming painfully defined. His nipples sprang out bright and pink through his fur with almost comical pops. Though the plump veins were hidden from view, the thick ones that radiated from his ham-sized arms and forearms remained.

That moan grew into a deep, thunderous rumble. His shoulders were thrown back violently as they were forced to tense, the muscles surging outwards to the size of bowling balls. His biceps were the first to complement their neighbours, growing simply huge and pressing the already thick veins against his skin to bursting. They were stretched out even as they grew in width as his bones grew, adding perfect proportions to his popping spine with every inch of height he obtained. His triceps followed suit, tensing and forcing him to bend his entire arm and flesh. For a moment, his forearms looked comical against his behemoth of an upper arm before they too joined in the fun and grew, obtaining that perpetually pumped appearance that bodybuilders aspired to have. His fingers itched with growth as they developed the ebony claws to match his feet. He straightened and pushed himself off with his new, thick arms and stood up.

He let out a soft humming noise and flexed his huge arms, the smile on his face twisting strangely. His lips and face were pushed out from the inside. Mark snapped and snarled, rolling his head from side to side. His tongue flattening and lashing out between his sharpening teeth, the muscles on his neck and shoulder rising to greet his changing head. His nose blackened and obtained a leathery consistency. A soft prickling sensation washed down his newly formed muzzle with every whisker that sprang to life. The pulling on his ears intensified until they finally stopped resisting and allowed themselves to be carried to the top of his head, stretched beyond their human shape into big, triangular and pointed. When the fur spread all over his face, he opened his eyes, the brown orbs gone and replace with bright, feral, yellow eyes filled with intelligence and an understanding.

Mark took a deep breath, taking in his own, musky scent and the hint of Lincoln that just made his groin ache. He looked down at the prone human before him and smile. Slowly, he leaned down and pressed his muzzle against the thick fuzz of pubic hair nestled in Lincoln's groin. The scent was just what he had been looking more and he licked his lips in anticipation.

Slowly and with the utmost care, he took Lincoln's cock... and stuffed it into his muzzle. Its size was far from satisfying but as he drew a deep, long breath, he felt it twitch and surge.

Lincoln grinned almost stupidly to himself as Mark's muzzle worked across its length, sliding back and forth and with the long, flat tongue rolling over every inch of the human member. Lincoln was thrusting lightly into the wolf's muzzle, every time he pulled out, a gush of precum spilled out of him and Mark's own member responded in kind.

Lincoln moaned, overcome with the need and desire to orgasm. He was not given such a luxury as Mark's muzzle began it's true work on his member. With every long, slippery slurp, Lincoln's human member had a strand of its humanity drawn from it. Inch by inch, the cock began to grow, filling out Mark's cock and filling the wolf with an even greater pleasure and the desire to be filled. Each of his thrusts caused the veins on his member to bulge and grow, pumping more and more blood into the already engorged flesh. The skin stretched and adapted, growing taut with even buck of his hips. One moment, Lincoln's cock barely brushed the roof of Mark's muzzle, then it began grazing against the ridges there, stimulating the sensitive point even more.

Mark's slurps brought more and more growth to the member. Each time he bobbed his head, he had further and further to go before his nose could brush against Lincoln's pubes. He choked slightly when the cock began to shove itself down the back of his throat but he supressed his gag reflex and just took the thickening member, enjoying the salty taste of the sweaty flesh and sprays of precum. At the same time, his furry fingers were fondling Lincoln's balls, rolling the orbs in his paws and brushing them against his leathery pads. He could feel the cum bursting in them, pushing them to their limits. Where they just seemed like walnuts in his palms a moment ago, now they filled out his gargantuan hands ready to unleash their load.

Mark moaned, a sound echoed by Lincoln. They held each other tightly, Lincoln's hands wrapped around Mark's broad shoulders, fingers raking across Mark's hide. He let out a loud cry as his cock burst to life. The cum that sprayed out of him was far more than he could have ever produced. The human bucked one and sprayed what must've been an entire litre of his cum deep into Mark's waiting muzzle. The second load was smaller but still caught Mark by surprise and the big wolf gagged, spraying some of the cum down his chin. The third was the biggest yet but Mark was ready and sucked down the flood without hesitating.

With every wave, Lincoln's form vibrated like his skin was rippling just beneath the surface. The layers of fat that covered him began to rocket straight towards his cock, bursting out of it and into Mark's waiting muzzle. The second chin that he had hated so much shrank back into his neck, leaving his features handsome, chiselled and revealing the square jaw that he had sported so long ago. His belly shrank away, no longer rising further than his non-existent pecs and revealing just the slightest outline of his abs. Perhaps the greatest change were in his arms. Years of working as a chef had developed muscles there that were still firm and lean. When the layers of fat vanished, his thick veins were shown rolling up his forearms and his biceps were at least slightly visible.

Lincoln's cry devolved into a moan. Despite being empty, his balls went into overdrive. It madly produced cum and sprayed it out in desperate little orgasms to fill the hungry need of Mark's muzzle. All the while, Mark greedily consumed the seed, savouring the taste and only swallowing when absolutely necessary. He loved the taste and he knew... he just knew Lincoln would be the one.

When the last ounce of liquid humanity had been milked clean out of Lincoln and fed to the wolf, Lincoln was released from Mark's grip and allowed to slip out and slump to the ground, eyes firmly shut in exhaustion.

For Mark, the experience took on a different approach. Still fully conscious, he straightened and licked the last droplets of cum from his muzzle. He grinned to himself and stood fully, his fully erect cock still dripping noisily. He gazed at the prone, handsome man before him, quietly slumbering in the pool of precum that Mark had produced. As tempting as it was to cum there and then, he had greater obligations.

He headed towards the door before glancing over his shoulder one last time at the slumbering human.

"Lincoln..." he murmured before quickly departing.

He had to Feed the Need.

*********

Day 4

*********

Roderick didn't know where the days went. With the sun shining through the blinds of Stan's room, he was surprised to recall that this was the fourth day since they had arrived in Wolfholme. Stan had been keeping him quite busy and today was no excuse. The farmboy had left the room before the sun even got up, somehow moving his massive, muscular frame without Roderick noticing who fancied himself a light sleeper.

The young man got up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and letting out a loud yawn. Another part of him was already awake but that was normal. He glanced down at his boner and couldn't help but think about the previous night or the two nights before then since he had started sleeping in Stan's room.

The first night, he was too tired to really care but sometime during the night, Stan had begun to shamelessly jack off. Roderick didn't give it any second thought and just went back to sleep. Then, the night after, the same thing happened. He had some incredibly stamina as well. He was jerking off for an entire hour, his soft, muffled moans and cute whines making Roderick hard. Just last night, like clockwork on 11 PM on the dot, Stan woke and began his nightly ritual but this time, Roderick could make out words somewhere in his moans.

It was cute when Stan murmured 'need'.

Roderick couldn't make out the rest but he had joined Stan... if just only a little. He was scared of what would happen if the wolf awoke to find him jacking off in tandem with his own pleasuring ritual. Not that he was afraid of being caught. Just that he found it a little... odd that at 11 PM every day, Stan would ritualistic jack off. Was that just something he did or was he always edging to jack off but only did so at night because he thought Roderick was asleep?

He puzzled over that particular mystery when he went down to the first floor. Stan and Mark were already off working on the on the farm while his father was making breakfast.

"Morning, dad," he greeted.

Lincoln looked up, a frown on his features. "Rod?"

"Yeah?" he responded, sitting down at the broad breakfast table.

"Did you just call me 'dad'?"

Roderick twisted his lips like was trying to mull over the thought and his words. "Yeah. I guess I did. Why? Is that odd?"

It felt odd... but right at the same time. Lincoln was his father. Why wouldn't he call him 'dad'? Strange as it sounded, he felt like there was a period of time when he hadn't called him by the pronoun or avoided it entirely. Was it out of spite? No, that couldn't be.

"No... I guess not," answered Lincoln, setting down the plates stacked with bacon and pancakes. He was walking a little strangely, with broad, exaggerated steps like he had a wedgie and was too ashamed to pull down his pants. Roderick found it a flattering his father didn't want to look so admit he was in horrendous discomfort. Though as he appraised his father's gait... he couldn't help but notice something different about him...

Were his arms always so...vascular?

Of course they were. He was a chef. He needed strong arms. Or was that bakers...?

"I'm going to go grab the other two," his father said. "Dig in."

Roderick helped himself to some pancakes. Stan and Mark came in a moment later smelling of the farm. A surprise came when Roderick found himself growing aroused at the sight of Stan striding in, already sweaty and with his muscles glistening in the morning sun. Thankfully he wasn't the only one.

Lincoln's own bulge was evident and the awkwardness of his walk was revealed.

"So, what're you boys going to do for the day?" Mark asked, slumping down into his seat.

"Well, I was thinking about taking a dip after some work," Stan answered.

"You have a pool?" Roderick asked, surprised.

With a hike of his thumb over his shoulder and a mouth full of bacon, Stan said, "Yeah. Out back. How have you not seen it? I'll take you there after we do some chores."

That was enough incentive for Roderick. Though the well air-conditioned the house was great, it was also very dry and Roderick was looking forward to a good dip in some cold, refreshing water. With that motivation, Roderick attacked the farm chores with great enthusiasm. Despite the glaring heat that beat down on him, he eagerly roamed the paddocks with the cattle, riding Stormwing on his own while Stan took out another horse. Whiteshadow still didn't like him but at that moment, he didn't really care.

When noon rolled in, the two began herding the cattle back into their pen. Roderick was in awe at the sheer level of command Stan had with the feral cows and bulls. The young biochemist must have been part shepherd dog or something because he just had to look at them, meet their gaze and any one that had strayed too far would instantly veer their way back to the rest of the herd. Roderick had to shout and block them before they'd obey him. Sometimes, Stan would need to raise his voice just a bit but that was the limit of it.

Roderick was starting to appreciate farm life a little more and though it was not something he had hoped to do for the rest of his life, he found himself growing to respect Stan. The guy was going to school as a biochemist _and_helping around in the farm. That was very impressive.

"Hey Stan," he began as they shut the gates to the large cow pen. "What do you do for fun around there?"

Stan's looked crestfallen. "You haven't been having fun?"

Suddenly feeling terrible, Roderick quickly raised is hands and shook them wildly. "What? No! I've been having lots of fun but... Well..."

How to explain...?

"Well, all that 'fun' has been from chores and things you have to do. What do you do in your downtime? What happens if it's raining outside and you can't go out or something like that?"

The Stan instantly brightened, his bright smile making Roderick's chest leap. If Roderick hadn't known any better, Stan would look like the stereotypical, dumb, oblivious farmer that would giggle with a loud 'Ah-hyuk' somewhere. But his eyes were bright, intelligent and he was studying biochemistry.

"Well, when it's winter, I like going to town with some of my other buds and we generally go Lanning or hit the gym. Sometimes we play a bit of basketball if it isn't too wet outside."

"I haven't met your friends yet."

Stan shrugged absently. "They're not really friends. They're more like... classmates. People I have to work with. I don't really know them that well."

Roderick inclined his head as Stan rode up next to him and the veered away from the farm. "You don't have any real friends?"

"Nah. Living about an hour away from town with the closest non-familial person being about thirty minutes away and one car can be a bit of a strain. I chat with the guys here and there but really, I've never really connected with anyone to warrant them being called a friend."

"Oh... Am I your friend?" Roderick instantly gave himself a mental kick for that comment.

"If we're being honest?" Stan replied. "Not really. You're a god bud, Rod, but let's face it. I've known you for three whole days. Four if we're being technical. All I know about you is that you're going to college, are from out of town and once your car is fixed, you're out of here. Oh and you've never hit a gym in your life."

Not sure whether or not he should be offended, Roderick said, "Well... I was born in August. I don't really like the heat or summer. City guy through and through. My mom died when I was little. I like videogames but I'm not a fanatic. And I've never had to hit the gym because I do sports."

"Really? What sports?"

"I'm into soccer mostly."

"Then you'll get along fine with Dave," Stan said with a shrug. "He _loves_soccer."

He couldn't help but feel that Stan was being friendly and polite because it was just his nature. There was no compulsion there to bring him closer than at arm's length. Well, maybe not at arm's length. They were probably at _forearm's_length but he probably kept everyone at that distance. Not too far to warrant alienation but not too close to really by chummy. Though not a vain man, Roderick sort of felt that by now, he should've at _least_have earned himself the title of 'friend'.

That train of thought died a moment later when he realised that they had left the farm behind. "Umm... where are we going?"

"The pool."

He gave Stan a puzzled look. "But I thought you said the pool was 'out back'?"

"It is," came the enigmatic reply. Stan wore this 'I-know-something-you-don't-know' look on his face. Roderick was not going to give him the satisfaction of hearing him beg if he was 'not really' a friend.

His answer came soon enough, however, when they arrived at a big natural pool fed by a river that travelled to the distance. It was big enough to possibly fit an entire city block and had a small pier build on the shore. Reeds grew along the shore and swayed gently in the wind. Though the sun blared down on them and made Roderick's skin itch to feel the touch of the cooling water, he could not help but admire the crystal blue water. It was perfectly clear. Unnaturally so.

"You're probably wondering where this water and the pool comes from, huh?" asked Stan as he big man vaulted off his steed. "The Conglomerate, well, AgriNex actually pumps fresh water from their Hydrology Lab on the other side of town. They provide it to all the citizens and when my dad bought this place, he requested that this pool be made because we had all this land here" - he swept his hands in a vague indication of the space around him - "and nothing to do with it."

"Couldn't you just have planted more crops?"

Stan shook his head as he began unbuckling his overalls. "The land isn't good for it. We could've gotten it terraformed but my dad liked the idea of having a personal pool. Besides, it gives us some place to cool off in the summer."

Roderick's eyes boggled when Stan dropped his overalls, revealing his underwear and the sizable bulge it contained. When those boxers fell, he immediately averted his gaze. "Dude!"

"What?" Stan replied. "I'm not jumping in there with my boxers. I don't want to have to carry wet clothing back to the farm on horseback."

"So you're going to swim nude?"

Stan gave him a, 'What's the alternative?' look'

Roderick hugged himself defensively.

Big hands suddenly wrapped around his shirt. "Come on," laughed the farmer boy. "We're both guys here. Stop being a baby and take it off. I'm not going to go all Deliverance on your ass. Not a hillbilly, remember?"

Roderick took a deep breath and let it out softly. He nodded shortly and let Stan peel off his sweaty shirt. It felt like the fabric was a stick candy wrapper and the moment he was without it, he felt so much lighter and cooler already. Stan left him to wiggle out of his shorts while the big guy stood at the start of the pier. He took in the heroic sight of the teenager's huge, broad back and how it curved sharply to his narrow waist before the lines of his body ballooned out again into his massive thighs. Blood began rushing to his cock when those muscles bunched and moved fluidly, carrying the Stan across the pier and then high into the air.

"Cannonbaaaaaall!"

Watching Stan's body disappear into the pool was the shock Roderick needed to quickly rush up into the pier and slip in. The last thing he wanted was for his 'not-quite-friend' to see his obvious boner. The water was cooling and he was hit by a moment of shock. But that quickly ebbed as he swam towards where Stan had vanished and his body adjusted to the waters.

He let out a content sigh and dipped his head into the crystal clear waters. The silence was soothing. Emerging once more, he floated on his back with his eyes closed, just letting his body soak in the cooling touch of the clean water. It took him a minute to realise that Stan hadn't surfaced.

"Stan?" he asked, straightening. "Stan?" He looked around. The waters were perfectly calm, still. Even though it was perfectly clear, he couldn't find a trace of his guide. "Stan!?" he cried with rising panic.

Did Stan hit the bottom and get stuck on some flora? Was he drowning? Did he smash his head on a rock?

"Stan!"

He dove under the surface.

Just when two big hands seized his waist and yanked him back to the surface. His heart stopped a moment and restarted when Stan laughed and shouted, "Ha! Gotcha!"

Roderick kicked wildly and tried to struggle but Stan's huge arms kept him pinned securely against chiselled pectorals and washboard abs. His feet absently brushed against Stan's thighs and a shiver ran down his spine as blood rushed back to his groin.

"You jerk!" Roderick snapped. "I was really worried about you!"

"Come on," laughed Stan, lowering his hands. "I'm no - Uhm..."

Both of them paused. Stan's right hand brushed up against Roderick's hard cock. Slowly, those thick, fingers closed around Roderick's manhood and the young man shuddered, leaning back into Stan's plump pecs. Those broad muscles tensed abruptly. Was that a flex or a sign of discomfort?

"Got a little excited there, huh?" Stan murmured, his voice shaking slightly.

"No more than you every night."

"What...?"

"You jack off every night at exactly 11 PM," Roderick said, leaning his head back so that he peered up at the guy from below.

"You watch me jack off in my sleep?"

"Erm..." Suddenly feeling panic flood him, Roderick tried to pull away but as he did so, Stan used his grip around his cock to turn him around. Stan pulled them together, Roderick's bare chest and hard cock suddenly pressed up against Stan's. Their legs were kicking lightly just to keep them afloat.

"What kind of pervert are you that you'd watch me masturbate every night?"

Roderick swallowed loudly, unable to come up with a reply.

"Because you know..." Stan continued. Roderick suddenly became aware of a rising heat opposite to his own cock and a faint throbbing emanating from Stan's groin. "... if you wanted a show, all you had to do was ask."

Stan leaned down and gently ran his tongue over Roderick's forehead. The tiny little lick made Roderick shiver with delight and he clutched onto Stan that much harder. His hips bucked lightly, cock rubbing up against Stan's rising member. Stan moaned in response as his arms wrapped around Roderick. Both of them seemed to have the same thought and began to gently drift towards the shore. Every little kick not only propelled them through the clear waters but also caused their heating bodies to gyrate against one another.

Roderick bit his lower lip as he felt Stan's massive cock rise to meet his own. He never considered himself gay before but just being around Stan, feeling those huge muscles press up against his flesh and the touch of that cock that already outgrew his own just made him hungry for more.

When their bodies began to follow the gentle slope of the shore both young men found their bodies compressing their respective members against their bodies. Roderick felt the length of Stan's rise beyond his own and its hot tip spewing precum straight against his collarbone. He dared a glance down and got warm splash of salty fluids against his chin.

"Shit... you're huge..."

Stan let out a soft hum. His eyes were glazed over in lust, tongue rolling out in a series of heated pants. His body was tense. Roderick was unsure what to do. Should he lick the inviting member? Kiss Stan? Offer up his ass?

In that moment of indecision, Roderick never noticed the thick fog that had started to creep in from all around them. It snuck in from behind, gently wafting over Roderick. The moment it touched his flesh, Roderick began thinking more with his cock than his head. The mist rolled across the clear surface and advanced on the two males, consuming them both entirely in a dome of thick, white fog.

Roderick's pupils dilated, staring off into the fog as his body went into autopilot. At the same time, Stan, smiled knowingly as he gently pushed Roderick away, his eyes momentarily gazing out into the fog to acknowledge its presence. Too consumed by lust to notice, Roderick began humping the air like he subconscious knew what was coming.

Stan kept one hand firmly around the eager young man's cock as he straightened. Sitting on his knees, the big farmer boy took a deep breath, taking in the crisp yet slightly musky fog deep into him. He shuddered momentarily the fog began to take effect. A loud moan rolled up from his throat as he reached for his nipples. Surprise came to him when he already found a pair of hands seizing the flesh nubs tightly. When Roderick gave them a hard twist, his body was hit by the lightning bolt of pleasure.

Stan gasped. The transformation spread out from the point of contact, soft brown nipples suddenly turning a bright pink and hardening in response to the stimulation. The relaxed muscles around the sensitive points hardened like steel, groaning loudly as they grew into familiar yet unnatural sizes. The cords of his pecs became entirely visible, hard strong bands that stretched his skin to their limits. Tiny hairs began to spread out from where Roderick gave him nipples another twist, rapidly shooting all over his mountainous pectorals like wildfire and covering his expanding pectorals. He groaned as inch after inch of muscle was stacked onto his chest, pushing him further and further away from Stan and forcing his shoulders further away from his head.

The natural progression of the change spread in three directions. The first two branched off into his shoulders. After day's hard work, Stan enjoyed rolling his mountainous shoulders and letting them stretch and grow. With the flush of power and burst of strength, his aching muscles suddenly felt relieved. Every pop of his bones growing and his muscles bulging was matched by a euphoric blast of relief. A growl rolled up from his throat when his arms began to vibrate and bulge. They grew too heavy for the rest of his body and he was forced to lean down, catching himself on his one good arm while his other was still securely positioned to grip Roderick's cock.

A loud moan escaped him and he squeezed his eyes shut when the muscular growth rolled down from his gargantuan biceps to his forearms. It fled through his veins, making them slowly plump up against his flesh. If he had been paying attention, he would have been able to watch their progress as the veins travelled down his forearms and caused the muscles they fed to balloon out. When this fingers cracked and snapped to greet his claws, he lost his grip on both Roderick's cock and the ground. He toppled to the ground gasping... but found himself just an inch away from Roderick's handsome, lust-driven features.

For a second, Stan frowned... and then he leaned in, pressing his lips ever so lightly against Roderick's. The young man responded with a soft lick and Stan was hooked. He threw himself against Roderick, holding the much smaller kid against his developing muscular chest, their cocks brushing against one another. His was spewing gallons of precum eagerly as the change spread down his abdominals, pumping them full of strength and size.

Every buck of his hips was met with a pop of his spine. Inch by inch, he grew taller and taller, his back rapidly developing to accommodate the growth and make sure he was entirely proportional. His loud grunts drowned out Roderick's cute little moans. With the copious amounts of precum pouring between them, Stan found himself and Roderick bucking against one another like a well-oiled machine. There was no resistance just pure, undiluted passion.

The contact of Roderick's cock against his own stirred the deep, primal force deep inside his body. His abdominals squeezed tight into six, perfectly square shapes, staying in perfect formation even as they grew into large, fist-sized diamonds hard enough to break rock. The thin fur that had spread over his chest quickly shot down the valley of his abdominals until they spilled over the sharp containers and rolled over the solid plateaus and polished, sweaty planes of the rest of his lower torso. The fur trailed down his spine line a mane before his huge and hilly back disappeared beneath their embrace. Not to be outdone, every muscle groaned loudly and surged with growth, making sure that they were still visible and still as enormous even beneath the fur.

Stan pulled his lips away from Roderick. He threw his head back, eyes squeezed shut as the growth began to push his face from inside. A muzzle developed, maintaining his smile of pleasure even as his teeth developed onto fangs and his tongue filled the long, lupine shape. His short, sun bleached hair thickened just a little as the fur grew to meet it. The growth of extra hair pushed his ears back to the top of his head, filling them with their mass and spreading them into the triangular shape of all wolves.

Stan let out a soft bark of triumph the moment his face completely changed and he turned to look back at Roderick. He froze when he saw Roderick's eyes staring straight into him, mouth half-open in lust. There was some... recognition in his eyes. A strange feeling of fear flooded Stan. But then Roderick seized the sides of his furry head and pulled his lips together into a passionate kiss.

That fear vanished and Stan immediately held Roderick in fur-covered arms tighter than ever. He rolled them both until he was on his back and Roderick was on top of him. The young human moaned when he broke their kiss. In his lust-driven haze, Roderick desperately tried to get their lips to meet once more but Stan would have none of it. The wolf pushed his victim upright, the all-too-human cock springing free and dripping precum on Stan's chest. Stan's on manhood completed its transformation into a proud, two foot lupine cock and shot precum against Roderick's back. The warm liquids made Roderick shiver, making him shuffle forward and bring his cock tantalisingly over Stan's muzzle.

Stan kicked his legs absently, curling an flexing his calves and thighs as they ballooned out and became covered in the same sandy fur that covered the rest of his body. He had to lift his hips just a little off the ground as his tail came into being, wagging joyfully beneath him. The slight inclined pushed Roderick's cock into his muzzle and the poor human gasped as his sensitive flesh brushed lightly against Stan's fangs. What pain there was instantly replaced by Stan's delicate tongue and the pleasure that came with it.

Stan pulled the cock away from his muzzle just long enough to murmur, "Must Feed the Need." Then he went right back to bringing Roderick closer and closer to the edge.

For his part, Roderick put up no resistance and buckled wildly into Stan's muzzle. He let out a high pitched whine when his balls began to jostle, ready for that moment of release. But while his body was ready, it was also changing. His balls were filled to the brim with cum and that would've been the trigger for orgasm but at the same time, some force gave it another command.

Instead of 'release', the overriding word was 'grow.'

His balls seemed to roar as they began to swell, stretching the skin of his sack until they were fit to burst. When they could grow no more, they gave a moment to pause but the production of his seed did not stop. Within seconds, they were again ready to burst but the command to grow had shifted from his sack to his cock. Roderick arched his back and let out a cry as orgasm hit him like a brick wall.

His cock spilled his load deep into Stan's waiting muzzle and when the wolf sucked on it, milking him, his cock all too eagerly filled the muzzle. The impressive six inches filled out to twelve inches, becoming as thick as a beer can and causing even Stan to hesitate and adjust himself at the sudden growth though he was used to much bigger.

When the second wave of cum burst from Roderick, the changes spread to the rest of his body. The lean muscle that had covered his entire body hardened and grew. A sound like water hardening to ice emerged from his torso as his abdominals came into clear view and his pecs expanded into the perfect square shape that would have made him perfect as an underwear model.

The third and fourth wave pushed the changes into his legs and arms, filling them out to fit his growing physique. A light dusting of brown hair covered his arms and legs where before, he had been mostly smooth. Overcome by orgasm, Roderick utterly collapsed against Stan, the big wolf catching the young man and gently removing the still twitching but empty cock from his muzzle.

Stan lay in the grass, watching Roderick's handsome features tighten up into the chiselled, angled features of a man meant to be on the runway. When that manly chinstrap beard began to sneak in, Stan's heart skipped a beat and he leaned it, giving Roderick the faintest kiss on the lips.

As much as he wanted to remain there, his member demanded attention and reminded him of another obligation. He stood up, making sure not to disturb Roderick, and turned towards the pool. He seized his gargantuan cock in both paws and angled it towards the pool. Even though the fog was still thick around him, he could still see its waters.

"Feed the Need," he murmured, closing his eyes. "Must Feed the Need." He rolled his head back, letting himself go. The amount of pure euphoric stimulation radiating from every time his paws rolled over his gargantuan cock was enough to send him to his knees.

"Feed the Need. Feed the Need! Feed the Need!"

The big wolf practically howled the mantra when his cock erupted like a volcano. Hot streams of thick cum blasted out of the tip of his pointed, red rocket. Roderick's load had been impressive but for a resident of Wolfholme, that was barely anything. Gallons of hot seed springing from coconut sized balls that churned out semen almost as quickly as it was consumed spilled from Stan's member, rising at a full arc through the air and landing in the pool.

Stan lost track of time but by the time the last shot of cum dribbled out of his cock, the sun was already on its way to the western horizon. Utterly exhausted, he crawled towards Roderick. For one last moment, he regarded the handsome young man, enjoyed the warming tingle in his chest and then curled himself around Roderick's naked form.

As he drifted off into sleep, the mist retreated, satisfied for the moment.

******

It was well into the night when Stan and Roderick returned. The sun had set and both boys were dripping wet. Roderick had a glowing smile on his face that Lincoln had never seen before. Well... he had seen it a few times, before his wife died. But he had never really seen it since. The expression suited Roderick's chinstrap beard. It swelled his heart that his son was smiling again.

"Come on kids," he said. He wondered for a second if it was right of him to include Stan in that sentence but he shook it off. It was harmless. "Mark made dinner."

Stan instantly froze at the doorway, his eyes wide. "Ummm... I'll pass."

Lincoln frowned at the wet farmer boy. "What? Why?"

"My dad is a terrible cook."

Lincoln sniffed the air. "It smells great..."

"That's what he wants you to believe," Stan said, scratching his head slightly. He honestly looked terrified. "Listen... I'm going to go dry off a little more then I think I'll just drive to town and grab some takeout. Do you want anything?"

Lincoln frowned and was feeling oddly defensive of Mark. "I'm sure your father's cooking isn't that bad."

But it was.

Roderick made the right choice to go with Stan because when Lincoln stepped into the dining room and found himself staring at a strange, grey goo that smelled great but looked partially alive... he had to fight the urge to turn and run while shouting 'wait for me' after the retreating boys.

"So?" asked Mark, looking extremely apprehensive. He was fidgeting insanely. "What do you think?"

Lincoln managed to stomach his second spoonful of the goo before he set down his cutlery. "It's... It's great," he said. His hands were shaking. Why were they shaking? Was there some sort of strange combination of spices and food that affected his central nervous system? Should he go to the hospital?

Mark's ears actually turned red and he ducked his head. "You hate it."

"No! I don't hate it. I... I don't... erm..."

Mark shook his head and let out a heavy sigh. "Look, I'm sorry. I just... I just thought I'd make it up to you for the other day."

"The other day?" asked Lincoln.

"Yeah... about practically raping you?"

"Raping me?" laughed Lincoln. "It's not rape if it's willing!"

Mark rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right. But you were vulnerable. You were frustrated, needed to let out some steam and... well... one thing led to another and we ended up jacking off..." The stud of a man growled and slammed his fist into the table. "Look, what I'm trying to say is that I like you, Cole, but I don't want things to get weird between us and I don't want to lose your friendship."

Lincoln smiled softly. "You know once the car is done, I'll be out of here, right?"

"Yeah, yeah..." Mark was nodding very slowly. "I know that. That's why I just want us to be friends. I don't want us to part on bad terms."

Shaking his head Lincoln said, "How can we possibly leave on bad terms after that? It was great!"

"It'll be bad because we might end up really liking each other and then when that happens, you'll have to leave. When you leave, I'll be just like when my ex-wife left." Mark shook his head. "I don't want to feel like that again."

That was actually a very valid point and one that Lincoln couldn't refute. Watching his wife die was the hardest thing he had to do in his life and even to this day, he still felt the pain reverberating in his very soul. To leave Mark if something developed between them... it would kill him.

"So what do we do now?" he asked softly. "I don't think we can just leave it at being friends." Lincoln watched his fingers absently twirling the fork between them. "I think we're past that."

"You do...?" Mark was looking up at him with a frightened look in his eyes but there was a goofy smile growing on his clean shaven face.

"I do. You've been great to me and my son, Mark!" Lincoln absently gestured off towards the front door. "You extended your hand to help us when we were in need. You gave us a place to stay and you've helped me fix my car. I can't just look on that and tell you that moment we shared meant nothing to me."

Mark's head sunk lightly. "I feel the same... but I can't help but think that in a few days, your car will be fixed and you'll be driving away forever."

Lincoln got out of his seat and navigated his way around the dinner table. It was the longest walk he had ever made. When he wrapped a hand gently around Mark's big, round shoulder, he almost broke down in tears. "Listen, I know it's not what we wanted but it's happened. I... I don't know what will happen to us but my priority is to my son. And my son wants to go to college far from here. I can't just leave him."

Mark's hand closed around his own. "Yeah... Yeah, I know how you feel."

"That being said..." Lincoln said with a faint smile. "If the town ever needs an extra chef, I'm sure I could be persuaded to move here."

Mark's eyes widened and he turned to Lincoln, his gargantuan size enough to ensure that even though he was sitting, Lincoln was at eyelevel with him. "Are... Are you serious?"

"Roderick is his own man. He can make his own decisions." He leaned towards Mark, their lips hovering over one another's. "As can I."

The moment their lips touched was electric. Their passions erupted at that moment, pure unbridled joy erupting in their chest as their hearts raced madly. Mark swept Lincoln off his feet, his massive arms carrying the human up the stairs with ease. He took the stairs two at a time and practically kicked down the door to his room.

Lincoln was lowered onto the bed with the most loving care and lathered with a myriad of licks and kisses. Mark's scent was everywhere and he took a deep breath, letting it completely and utterly permeate his every being. He was only partially aware when he stripped off his clothes and let his huge, 12 inch cock bounce rise to full mast. His eyes were purely focused on Mark's massive, muscular form, veins popping all over his arms and delicious pecs.

The smile on his face was one drunk with lust and love.

Far off in the distance, back in the actual city of Wolfholme, Stan and Roderick were sharing a bucket of popcorn as they watched a late night matinee. Though halfway through the movie, both boys grew bored and Roderick's hand moved not-so-subtly towards Stan's package. The bigger male smirked and they subtly moved to the rear of the near-empty cinema.

There were already a few other guys passionately making love in the theatre so another two did not matter.

As lust rose all over Wolfholme, the same, thick fog began creeping in from the ether, closing in on the entire expanse of the town. It was at the eastern entrance of Wolfholme that the black wolf stood, paws folded behind his back and peering into the city itself. As the mist came in, it seemed to hit an invisible barrier from where the welcoming arches stood. The roiling fog seemed to try and crawl up the sides of the barrier but could never truly reach its upper limits.

His brown eyes narrowed and a humourless smile crossed his muzzle. He stepped over the threshold into the town. The mist instantly peeled away from him, giving him a good ten metres of space on all directions.

The wolf turned back around, watching the arches of Wolfhome disappear into the folds of the mist.

"In this town, seven days are all you have to roam," he said, with growing menace in his voice. "A minute longer and consider this your new home."