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"The Sun's Reflection"

by dolphinsanity

for FoxLightning

~~~~~~~

It was a green, grooved metallic disc with an odd knack for reflecting sunlight, despite the fact it had been buried in wet sand when the human named Ryan stubbed a toe on it at the beach. He had brought it back home with him because it looked cool and seemed obviously discarded. It reminded him of Amaterasu's melee weapon from the game Okami-- though this one looked authentic enough that he figured maybe it was meant for use at some sort of actual shrine somewhere. Maybe it had come from Japan somehow -- washed in on the tide?

It was definitely the biggest oddity from his recent vacation weekend, and he found himself fixating on it after hauling his luggage into his bedroom on the Sunday evening of his return. He was exhausted in a good way after all that swimming and sunlight, but there was something about the object that had him wondering about it more than everything else.

Perhaps his curiosity was only for the sake of procrastinating from all the unpacking he had ahead of him, but it wasn't like it mattered: he was tired, and the sun was slowly setting; he might as well focus on cleaning up his trinket with what energy he had left. He opened his window blinds to see how well it would catch the light of the setting sun, and it did gleam a bit, but he knew it could be better. Maybe once he cleaned it up he could hang it in his room as a good luck charm or something.

To that end, Ryan laid the reflector across his camo shorts and sat on the edge of his bed as he started going over it with a cloth and some olive oil, just to help get off the streaks.

No sooner had he started doing that than he started to get...really distracted for a different reason. Maybe it was due to the oily feeling on his fingers reminding him of lube, but all of a sudden he was just... _terribly_horny. He popped a full-blown erection that tented up in his shorts and made them bulge against the metal. The erection was so sudden and hard that it was actually tingling a little. He wasn't sure why, but maybe it was because of just how abrupt change in bloodflow had been; he hadn't gotten this hard this fast in a long while.

Sighing about his "guy problem," Ryan put the cloth and reflector aside on the bed and unzipped his shorts to take care of the problem. He hadn't jerked it the night before, and the trip back had been long, so it was only natural to want a nice release at the end of the journey.

He noticed his dick was looking a little smaller than usual, but it was only a slight difference, so he chalked it up to the erection being so sudden. One thing was for sure: the sensitivity was excellent. Just taking it in his hand made his nerves sing, and he wasn't shy about starting to jerk it in a hurry. His face and chest both flushed, his body feeling hotter and tinglier than usual all over as he stroked away. He built up to a good plateau in less than a minute and planned on lingering there for a while, slowing his movements. As he slowed down he felt an overwhelming need and sexual frustration, which only went away when he picked up the pace again and went hard and strong toward making himself climax. Once he got fully into that rapid rhythm, he got up on his shins and bucked his hips, making quick and short thrusts. There was a sudden upswing in pleasure, and he came all over both hands a moment later.

Or... squirted just a little over both hands? It was a really small emission, like if he had masturbated back to back a few times in a single day. Weird... hopefully he wasn't dehydrated. He thought he had consumed enough water and salts while on the trip, but maybe he had missed something.

He took a minute to clean up afterward, his penis going soft and small as he washed his hands and dabbed off his tip and shaft. He wanted to be extra tidy about this before he went back to polishing the reflector.

Yet, somehow, as soon as he had put his shorts back on and taken the reflector in hand, Ryan found himself tenting again. That same insistent arousal from before was back every bit as strongly, as if he hadn't even climaxed.

"Man, what's your problem?" he teasingly asked his own dick. "That wasn't enough for you? Okay, fine..."

He set the reflector aside -- kicked off his shorts, whipped out his prick again. Definitely seeming_pretty_ small, but super rock hard and needy despite it. It was difficult to complain as he easily folded his hand around it and stroked fast, feeling the need and the rising pleasure burning through him once more. This time his nipples were tingling too, and he ended up touching and tweaking them to help work out the need he was feeling there. Cumming took longer this time, but not for want of trying on Ryan's part: he was making a hole with his hands and hammering away, full of fiery lust and feeling the pleasure enter a long, slow boil as he did so.

After several more minutes of this, Ryan came again: even less than before, but an ejaculation nonetheless. This time he was more cursory about his cleanup, using just a wet wipe before resuming working on the reflector. His dick definitely looked fully spent now; it was downright tiny when flaccid, super contented and hopefully good for the next day or two at the very least. He still wanted to get this reflector to peak shininess and then just flop on the bed for a nap...

...Except his arousal had other plans. Chronically he found himself interrupted -- a third time, a fourth -- each time jacking off for longer despite how increasingly tender and sensitive his prick felt and how good it was becoming to run his hands over his inner thighs, his chest, and his rear. He was noticing it feeling smaller in his grip each time but almost didn't want to look down; he spent part of the time following a small impulse to just stare out the window toward the blazing orange of the sunset-glowing horizon. It was a really beautiful sunset... absolutely breathtaking. Enough that he could feel himself bucking harder and yearning for something as he admired the view.

Ryan felt so exploratory and yet so confused... why was he in such a hungry mood tonight? Furthermore, despite the size and insatiability of his sexual appetite, he was still cumming less and less each time. By the fifth time, he finally looked down again and confirmed that his cock was extra small. Like uncomfortably small. Like, he should be panicking small. Except he wasn't panicking, because it still felt so good. It felt, somehow, normal. He just kept touching himself, working it up more and more. He thought about how much he needed to cum, rubbing the inch and a half that he had left and feeling the arousal prickling through his whole body. He really really needed it -- the heat burning through him, the _need_telling him to do nothing but rub and touch and feel. He went at it like that for ten minutes, totally erect and naked.

Yet, despite this feverish stimulation, he didn't cum the fifth time. It wasn't merely a case of almost getting there and then the climax eluding him; it felt like he couldn't get there from here at all. Like the way forward from his plateau was blocked.

What was missing? He gazed toward the orange horizon again, blinking slowly, and then shut his eyes.

At last he found his mind wandering -- imagination firing up with a vivid, dreamlike image.

Big white wolf. Orange brands on his fur. His breath on Ryan's face. A huge white paw rising, pressing Ryan's shoulder -- pushing over, pinning. A dominant step forward. A low-dangling, swollen package of lupine balls, matched to a bulging sheath. He could see the tip emerging... and then, he could feel himself being rolled over, that prick pressing up against his rear, grinding along it... and then lower. Into...

...Into an opening which Ryan didn't have, but in his mind's sense it felt so real right now, like a daydream infecting his reality and taking it over.

He felt himself sniff. He felt himself submit, pressing his paws to the ground...

Paws...?

White paws, like the big wolf atop him. Paws. Snout. Smells.

A shear of pain coursed through Ryan, as if his spine had been pinged by a minor zap of electricity.

"Nrrrghh!!"

His eyes shot open as he looked down at his naked torso and saw something disturbing.

Nipples. Rows of them. E... eight in total?

Not only that, but he saw his scrotum sinking into him, moistening, the seam at the middle parting into a moist opening with what remained of his still-shrinking penis above it. It was so itty-bitty now, retracting into him and shortening down to a nub, just the glans...

He stroked at it again, feeling it send a renewed surge of bliss through him. This was the way forward. This was how he could get to his peak. He stroked with his fingers along that increasingly tiny, hypersensitive surface but found his fingers losing their dexterity, the muscles and tendons contracting as the fingers pressed tightly together and shortened, the skin on the back starting to erupt with a carpet of white fur...

His other hand was having the same effect, Ryan pressing it desperately into his... her(?) changing sex as the fleshy tunnel developed further. All of Ryan's nipples tingled and sang, fur emerging around them too -- along with a pressure in her face, the bones popping as they lunged forward with a spasm of transformation. A muzzle. A black, soft, wet nose. She could feel every breath telling her more about the room, even as impatient growls arose in her changing throat and chest. She needed it to feel good; she needed the good sensations, but her paws were too clumsy! Big, meaty wolf paws that made her clit feel like it was being bonked by stiff pieces of leather. Oooh, but even that still felt kind of good! The base of her spine twitched as it grew into a fluffy white tail, her hind feet and legs adjusting for a proper canine sitting position before the human anatomy gave way fully to what was soon to be. She felt her nicely stable haunches form, the nails of her paws digging into the bed's fabric a little.

Then, from her newly keener sense of visual contrast, she noticed a glimmer on the reflector's surface. The light of the setting sun was hitting it just right from the place where it was propped up against one of the bed's pillows.

Wait... she hadn't put the reflector there. It had been on the bed beside her just a moment ago, next to the rag! She pawed at the rag in confusion, the mere idea that she had been holding it now seeming impossible, because a wolf like her would never hold a human tool like a rag...

Deeply frustrated, she jilled at herself with both front paws and ended up falling over backward, legs kicking as her quadrupedal range of motion finally locked into place and left her a flailing, horny mess on the bed. She kicked until she righted herself, and then tried to curl to shove her tongue into the heated, utterly_stimulation-demanding_ depths of her pussy. It was so wet and hot and _need need need need _...

As she was struggling to figure out the task of getting her snout into position to pleasure herself, the glimmer of light from the reflector... took shape. It grew and expanded, into the hovering and ghostly image of a wolf much like her... but bigger, muscular.

Then the light flared brightly, and the wolf became real. Ryan blinked her eyes to avoid being blinded -- and found the white wolf with familiar orange branding standing there on the bedroom floor. It was far larger than Ryan in all respects, fluffy white chest sticking out noble and tall as it loomed in a dominant posture above her. When Ryan's neck went horizontal in wariness, her gaze naturally dipped below the new arrival's underbelly... at which point she saw between his front legs and toward his hindquarters, glimpsing something large hanging low from the great beast's groin.

This one was male.

The mere idea made Ryan's tail wag quicker, the thought of being mounted by him becoming a powerful instinctive pressure in her mind. Beneath this newly lupine veneer, however, the rest of Ryan's personality was struggling to cope. She knew there was something _wrong_about this situation, but the powers at work were making it very difficult to see what exactly that was. Like someone with the bright sun in their eyes, all Ryan's mind could do was try to shield itself and wait out the blinding angle of the light.

In the meantime, "she" was was full of need, utterly eager as she felt the male wolf's nose moving in, nuzzling up across the foot of the bed and nudging under her tail so that he could taste her sex. He began to lick, and she arched herself into it.

There was a nagging feeling that she should resist... but she ignored it as her instincts screamed otherwise. It felt like heaven, with her every nerve and gland waking up to tell her more of this was absolutely necessary.

She barked and leaped forward, exhilarated and confused by the bliss rushing through her. It was a clumsy move -- she thumped sideways against the bedroom wall, before darting away and leaping down onto the floor and running in rapid figure-eight motions as the pleasure compelled her to excitement. She saw her own tail and briefly grabbed it, her mind veering between the ideas of sex, chase, and play. She let go of her tail a moment later, her gaze fixating on the approaching male's sheath and heavy sack, which she leaned in to lick and sniff. He wagged tall and let her. Then she urgently looked up at him, licking at the left side of his muzzle.

Whump. His front left paw came up suddenly and plopped itself atop her nose, the four digits of it spreading as the paw's palm pressed in upon her nostrils. It would have looked like an adorable boop if not for the blatantly sexual tone of the rest of the big male's body language: his back remained erect (and his penis was getting there) while his tail made high, swaying motions and a "playful" growl rose in his throat. The weight applied by his strong chest muscles was considerable as she felt him press in on her, momentarily blocking her panting nostrils with the black of his pawpads. The paw itself was so big that the center two toes were directly in the way of her eyes, eclipsing her formerly clear view of his genitals as that paw pushed against her muzzle. She licked at it submissively, but he did not let it down, and she was forced to wiggle backward and away in order to get free. His powerful foreleg moved smoothly back down to a standing position, losing no poise whatsoever even as Ryan's was shattered. From her backpedalled position and low, ears-back stance, she could more clearly see again the arousal in his beautiful groin. Moreover, she could smell the fresh musk of it on the air, mingling with the slightly musty paw scent that had inevitably filled her nostrils a few moments prior.

Her instinctive _good, submit to him more _signals were firing louder. Soon the male was approaching again, head low and skulky while his tail remained high and swaggering. She froze shly in place, tongue flicking out twice against her nose in anticipation. He shot her a passing, confident glance as he made his way around behind her, his large snout soon nuzzling up at her sex again.

It was too much. She needed him. She wagged low and flagged.

With instinct as her guide, she lifted her rear and kept her front quarters steady as he pressed in with greater lust -- face brushing past her rump, neck gliding forward along her side. Her tiny clit was pulsating in its place -- a metronome for her arousal. She felt his front paws rise and straddle her sides. She felt his penis press against her rear. She endured his weight as he mounted her: he was a living fortress of muscle and bone. She braced herself beneath him and let out a crooning noise as she felt him move.

He was thrusting. Wet, long, and pointed, his shaft found its mark after just a few near-misses. What had begun as a soft grinding against her rump and belly fur became the mind-melting sensation of his smooth maleness thrusting into her equally soft folds, the tight triangle of her sex opening its way for him and letting him go deeper and deeper. Within seconds, she was feeling his balls press up against her, his cock swelling... and the base of it in particular getting very large...

So, so large...

She realized, as if remembering a rumor vaguely told to her long ago in some other life, that he possessed a knot. The knot would fill her -- tighten in her, and she would clench around him. None of his precious seed would be wasted. None of it. He would fill her entirely, all of his seed remaining in her...

That pulse of pleasure deepened. Ryan was orgasming, a low howl rising in her because she knew no other way to let it out. She felt her walls tightening, her entrance contracting around that knot. She felt the seal becoming firm, his thrusts getting shorter and quicker. Most critically, she felt him cum: short bursts of cream which found their way, warm and potent, into her depths. She could have his puppies; he could give her that. A gush of hormonal need filled her even as the pleasure was peaking. She had been needing this for so long. It felt like centuries...

As this pleasure ripped through her entire body, Ryan could feel it in so many spots. The nipples, every one, felt like they were cumming, though it was a matter of nervous spasms and not an emission of fluid. Her groin and butt felt hot. Even her face and nose were full of an overwhelmed, somehow pleasantly inflammatory sensation.

A female orgasm. Ryan's first... and already she wanted more. The heat burned within her puffy sex. It was mildly slaked by his seed, but only_just enough_. There must be so much more of it, and she needed for him to give it. She needed to feel this pulsating rush course through every inch of her, again and again, while his shaft filled her to brim -- or at least, to the cork formed by the thickness of his knot within her tightened, rhythmically clenching entrance.

Her mate seemed to understand her needs. His back paws straddled her tighter, and a low rumble issued from his chest. A vague memory of wolf mating behavior told Ryan this was the part where the male would turn around and remain locked together with her, rear to rear and tail by tail. He would then keep ejaculating, ensuring she was thoroughly bred with his pups, as she should be.

She was so very ready for it...

...But that wasn't quite what happened.

Instead, she felt his hind legs squeezing against hers. Then he was growling, pressing downward with his head, neck, and the entire length of his body.

The confused wolfess heard a voice in her thoughts: You must let me penetrate you. It sounded masculine and hungry, but it wasn't Ryan's old human voice, but something unfamiliar. It was also a most confusing statement: was she not penetrated enough already?

Open yourself to me, the voice commanded.

Then Ryan, poor stuffed wolfess that she was, felt the weight of the male becoming heavier and heavier. The force with which he bore down on her was starting to feel like it would soon crush her. Even her normally steady knees were wobbly... The inferno in her sex was building again, and she howled mournfully as she did her best to open herself further for him.

There was a strange, alien sensation as she felt the thickness of her back legs suddenly increase. She felt the new heft at the back of them pressing forward, as if the muscles were squeezing their way into the more compact front part of her legs. Not understanding the sensations, she tried to move her hind legs but discovered she had no control over them at this time. A confused ground-pawing with her front legs followed, but she stopped that when the feeling of fullness in her sex... changed. Suddenly she felt her clit throbbing much bigger... harder. She felt her clit swelling out, as if the male's cock was forcing her sensitive button to grow outward in its likeness. She felt her insides in turmoil, a heavy feeling in her womb as something turned and inverted. Then she felt heaviness -- his balls pressing in tighter against her groin, before joining with it, skin flush with skin, in a rising wave of warmth. She felt the weight of his balls becoming part of her body, the potency of his cock erecting forward beneath her belly as if he had somehow fucked it all the way through her sex and out into the sheath he had forced her to grow.

She... he, panted loudly. As he felt the primal arousal and lupine erection, Ryan was also remembering flickers of his human male self again. He... didn't want this. He had to stop whatever was happening, before it was too--

CHOMP.

There was a shrill yelp of submission from Ryan as the male Okami wolf's jaws closed roughly around the spot where his neck met his right shoulder. He felt the teeth sink in -- enough that he must surely be bleeding a little, a powerful love bite that claimed him and brought both pain and clarity: he must submit; this more dominant wolf owned him. Male or female, this was how it was supposed to be.

Just like that, Ryan's rallying human thoughts were sent spiralling helplessly down the maelstrom of lupine urges. He relaxed his front legs, sighing as he felt the beast's huge torso melding together with his. It was going much faster now, zipping together into Ryan and forcing him to grow. His front paws were eclipsed and melded to get larger; his shoulders flexed hard and then popped as the greater wolf absorbed them.

In the final moments, Ryan could feel the strong male's neck pressing into his -- spine joining spine, pressing in all the way up to the face and the brain. There was a flash of ecstasy as he felt his own face curling into the dominant male's lustful snarl, nostrils flaring as it claimed even Ryan's ability to smell.

As their heads at last merged completely, Ryan heard the voice speak once again in his thoughts: There will be interesting days ahead.

...And then came a loud gasp as Ryan, the human, awoke on his bed and sat upright immediately.

Breathing shallowly in alarm, he glanced wide-eyed around his room for signs of any external wolf -- then down at himself for signs of, well, any of the myriad differences that had existed for him at any point in that transformation sequence.

He appeared fully clothed and human as if nothing had happened. He also appeared to be entirely alone.

Ryan's racing heart gradually calmed down. His breathing normalized. Using his perfectly human hands, he touched his face, his arm skin, his abs... felt the fabric of his shirt and shorts...

Just a dream...?

Then he noticed something: his undies were wet: that_special kind_ of wet that only happens when a male achieves peak arousal while still wearing them. Daring to reach his fingertips in, he felt the liquid, which was abnormally thick and plentiful for him. Even so, it didn't make much sense... in the "dream," he had been a female and gotten filled by the male wolf. Maybe it was something to do with the merging afterward?

The reflector was lying there innocently against the pillow as if nothing had happened. The setting sun wasn't gleaming off of it anymore, either. A glance out the window confirmed that it had disappeared behind the horizon entirely: dusk had begun, Venus was visible over the horizon, and the moon was in the sky, albeit obscured by the partly cloudy weather for the moment.

A vague sense of disappointment rolled through Ryan when he noticed the moon was currently clouded. He ignored it as nonsensical, but there was still something... off. Changing his undies didn't help shake the feeling. Starting to try to unpack made it worse.

It was like... someone was in the house with him. Someone he hadn't invited. Someone who just might not have good intentions for him. Instinctual fears arose, leaving him in the kind of state that causes people to jump at shadows or flinch upon seeing vaguely person-shaped blobs of furniture in a dark room.

Ryan took a slow walk through his home, turning on every light and checking every nook -- half expecting at every turn to see something straight out of Okami staring back at him. Except that never happened: as well as he could determine, he was alone, notwithstanding his enduring feelings to the contrary. Once he had turned on every light and lamp available, his fear at least faded.

As more time passed, Ryan felt out of sorts in new ways. Now feeling secure enough, he wanted to rest, but he felt anything but restful. Just lying there on his bed, he started to feel an itch to get up and do something, like he should go out and run despite his exhaustion and the late hour. He eventually got on his computer and tried reading some outdoorsy stuff -- browsing things like tents and sleeping bags at an online store -- as a compromise to try to stave off the urge to go somewhere.

After several minutes of that, Ryan clicked the X to close the window without even consciously thinking about it. He realized he had done it only after the fact, when his desktop wallpaper was there in front of his eyes and the window was absent from the taskbar. He wondered if he had misclicked, but then he realized he hadn't. He didn't care about that stuff right now; he needed something else.

A strange feeling of disdain welled up in him as he shut the computer back down. Then he started to salivate as he grumpily wondered whether he had any decent meat in the fridge right now. He shuffled his way in there, and the answer turned out to be, "Sort of!" He gobbled up the last three slices of aging deli turkey without a second thought. It barely registered as enough food to mean anything, but it was something.

He hadn't wanted to eat it; he had wanted to sleep. Nevertheless, he found himself in a strange mental funk, drifting along back to his room and sitting near the window to gaze out of it.

The moon was slowly emerging from behind the clouds. The sun, of course, was still somewhere else: even farther below the horizon than it had been earlier.

Then a strange thought drifted through his mind:Reflected sunlight will do... and what is the moon but the world's largest reflector? The notion was "said" in a strangely feminine-sounding voice: calm, assertive, and cool.

Ryan swatted a hand against his own cheek, trying to snap himself out of whatever weird dissociation he was falling into. He wanted to look away from the moon but found it impossible. He must stare at its pale, yellow-white light. It was so big and round... perhaps not perfectly full, but close enough.

While Ryan knelt there, transfixed, that feminine voice mused in his thoughts once more: The goddess of sunlight need not fuss about such particulars as a 'full' moon. The intensity of my rays shall pierce this mortal form regardless.

This, understandably, called to mind images of being impaled by semi-solid rays of light, which no matter how Ryan tried to imagine it didn't sound as fun in practice as it might in a video game. Despite his flight of fancy, however, there were no horrific projectiles on the way... at least, none that he could see with his physical eyes.

What Ryan did sense was a terribly unsettling feeling of energy and motion, as it seemed like every point on his exposed skin began to crawl. The sensation was so intense that he thought his skin might literally be moving.

When he raised a hand into his field of view, he could see that it was. The _pores_were vibrating, thin threads of white fluff starting to emerge from them while his short human body hair fell out onto the carpet. There was a rising heat and pressure in his face as well, making him feel suddenly inflamed around his mouth and sinuses.

Don't be afraid, the voice reassured him. The light will reveal the truth, in all of its beauty.

As he watched his fingers lock up and felt his forearms' tendons and muscles spasming, Ryan felt sure this wasn't his truth, but the truth of a possessing spirit that had gone into him. Traveling into his body through the skin of his face and hands, the energy of the reflected sunlight was spreading further into his body, getting beneath his clothes and bending the reality of his flesh to the voice's will. Like in the "dream," but different... as if that had only been a trial or experiment before this entity committed to the real thing!

He wasn't sure how he knew that -- but he had his suspicions when he momentarily felt the entity's thoughts brushing against his. They were strange... powerful. Male and female. Blinding and brilliant. Hot and cool. Creative and destructive. He had a mental flash of the white wolves from earlier.

The only thing he knew for sure was that it was all too much... so much more than his mortal body could handle. He thought he was going to explode if this_being_ pressed into him any deeper.

Of course, there will be no such thing, the soothing voice told him as he began to panic. The vessel shall be sculpted.

It was at that moment that Ryan gained sympathy for what a lump of unfired clay might feel like. He felt the heat and pressure in his face creating a squishy malleability, the tissues of his cheeks and cartilage of his nose going gooey and stretching forward, as if something were lightly rubbing against them in short, repetitive strokes, each one causing the shape to elongate and swell. The inflamed feeling gave way to a dull ache -- a small enough consequence considering that it now seemed that a divine will was editing him -- and with him wide awake for the process, no less. There was a saggy, piled-up feeling in his tongue as if he had curled it into the back of his mouth -- before a few more of those teasing motions stretched it forward, a red lupine tongue forming and dangling from his human mouth before the chin and now-sculptable nose grew forward, accompanied by bizarre schliiiiipck sounds as the flesh burbled with the change.

Faintly, out of the corners of his eyes, Ryan could see what looked like a ghostly black shadow rubbing against his face. The shadow was bristly, like a tail, but each time he tried to look at it directly, he would lose sight of it. Nonetheless, he could feel it coaxing his body to change, the experience tactile and utterly exposing.

Of course. He was being brushed into this form. That's exactly how she would do it.

So you see now that this flesh is my canvas, the female voice in his thoughts commented after his realization. Well... good. It's always nicer when one's technique is observed and appreciated.

As that ethereal brushing continued, Ryan could feel the heat in his stretched-forward bones subsiding, while his canine teeth heated up and lengthened. He could feel the nostrils broadening, the black nose from before forming anew... or at least, something like it. It seemed like his snout was actually bigger this time.

Yes, good... let us make our face beautiful, a splendid blending of what was , and what I am adding. Mm, but these small hands simply won't do. After all, I don't require them to hold a brush.

There was a rush of power into Ryan's fur-carpeted hands and forearms as she spoke.

Crriiick... crunch!! Ryan's gaze diverted downward as his arm popped and twisted, the bones and fibers partially realigning for a quadrupedal movement option: four huge and thick fingers, pawlike with dewclaws, but with a greater range of motion than would be expected from a feral. More than anything else, however, it grew. It outsized his other arm two to one in a matter of seconds, with both muscular power and a feeling of heaviness rushing into it: it was so big that it was hard for his still-human torso to support! Meanwhile, the seams of his sleeve strained before shredding apart. The moonlight touched the newly bared skin, and he watched the fur flowing up the limb like fire across oil as he gawked at its powerful, werebeast-like shape.

Meanwhile, the changing of his head was accelerating, flowing backward in waves that turned his eyes golden and gave rise to his fluffy white ears. He felt the structures of his neck and shoulders twinge, crack, and change. He felt the fur flare up mane-like around his neck and across his chest, puffing outward like the stylized, spiraling clouds of a carefully brushed painting. He could feel it welling up under his shirt -- which then began to strain as his next draw of breath brought with it a sudden barreling of his chest and relative narrowing of his midriff. He was growing monstrously broad-shouldered, denser, and handsomely ripped in his abdominals. Rippage of another kind followed moments later, first with a few warning tears and then with an outright shred as the shirt failed to contain the growing beast. The popped shoulder cuffs left his T-shirt hanging in a dilapidated mess across his chest, making him look like someone wearing a torn-up crop top as his spine lengthened and forced him to lower his meaty arms to keep from falling over.

Steadying himself became easier as the changes continued working downward, getting into his buttocks and thighs and bestowing upon him a runner's strength that would be of truly divine proportions. He could feel his rump firming up, his leg muscles forcing their way out against the cute defiance of his shorts.

He glimpsed something again in his periphery and turned his head, this time seeing the reflector starting to levitate above the bed and drift toward the nearby window, guided by an unseen force. It positioned itself to bounce moonlight onto Ryan's exposed lower back, which resulted in an extra rush of changes there.

As that happened, Ryan perceived an odd new tension in the base of his spine: his tail was starting to grow in, in what seemed like an already bent posture, as if it were trying to grow in a way that would curl immediately around his body. The result was that it hooked through the left leg of his shorts, and he could feel the tightness of them increasing as that narrow passage became overcrowded with his size. Then with a bestial grunt and butt-and-thigh flex, he popped their seams. A moment later he felt an uncomfortably tight growth in his groin and growled angrily about having his cock and nuts in such tight quarters. He curled forward, finding himself surprisingly flexible, and used his frighteningly large teeth to shred what was left of the distressed front of his shorts. This left his new sheath bulging against his underpants, and he proceeded to tear that fabric open as well, growling with determination as he popped himself free.

He wasn't trying to do these things. He was simply doing them. Instinct, or whatever divine influence, was taking over. He could sense everything, but he was reacting without thought, and with time he came to realize that what he thought about his reactions -- whether excited or horrified -- did not particularly matter. He was_observing_.

Perhaps his own truth was still here, but it was being outshone by one far bigger and more important. Amaterasu's presence was overwhelming him, like a floodlight shining upon a tiny candle, so bright as to render his tiny light-point irrelevant.

Chosen for a greater purpose, the voice cooed to him as he stamped his increasingly pawlike feet to help work out the weird sensations he was feeling. He felt the soles bending, the proportions shifting, the pads growing in and hardening up as if they had been through years upon years of hard journeying in some wilderness. He felt the steady curling of his tail as it folded around his body, the inky black tip of it brushing over his still-changing ankles, working through the last of their changes...

The brush. The brush was here too. It had become part of his body, exactly as it should be.

There was an upsurge of delight and fulfillment. He needed to tell the world of her arrival. He rose from his squat, massive arms spreading wide and brush-tail flicking back behind him as his jaws parted while his eyes gazed at the moon. He howled an otherworldly song of praise, glowing oranges and reds emblazoning symbols onto his body as he did so, forever marking him as a divine vessel. Behind him, the reflector settled into place, hovering at the ready for the goddess's use. Flames of solar energy blazed to life around its edges, confirming it to be the genuine solar disc that it was. Flickering illumination followed, the room around him animating in oranges and reds. The supernatural fire did not burn anything, for now... but the slightest shift in intent by the goddess could change that fact at a moment's notice.

Ryan knew then that his body was no longer his own. He -- or, rather, the will of Amaterasu -- looked down and beheld his muscular form, peeking sheath, and huge footpaws.

He curled forward and licked. He licked over his sheath to make its contents swell out; he grasped his massive right foot in his hands and licked at the pawpads. He tasted victory: his, Amaterasu's victory. The vessel was claimed, and now both the moment's enjoyment and future plans could be carried out according to the divine plan. Every contour of the body was as his divine will had brushed it out. The human consciousness still stuck there would remain to observe it in the helpless awe befitting the relationship between a mortal and a god.

"Rrrrhyessss," Amaterasu growled at the delightful taste of his own flesh, his voice as deep as a valley which the sun could illuminate only near its zenith.

His big paw-hands let go of the foot as his focus turned to his cock, long tongue working over its veiny red length. It was plump for his body size but still proportional; his testicles, however, were large and productive. He rumbled with delight as he kneaded at them, heavy hands showing good control nonetheless over how much force they applied. Soon he took his swollen length into his own maw, abs and lower back muscles flexing and relaxing rhythmically as his were-lupine frame bobbed its way to greater and greater personal pleasure. He was not on his back, but crouching, tail high and dominant as he compelled his vessel to offer up its orgasm and its seed.

Now truly only a passenger in his own body, Ryan was helpless to do anything but experience and witness this self-indulgent pleasure. It was fiery and all-consuming, the lust might as well have been the sun indeed.

His werebeast hands and paw-feet joined together in stimulating his enlarged shaft and hefty balls. Ryan could still feel it all but had no power to control the body's reactions; even its instincts were now those of the horny solar entity and not those of Ryan the human. Every caress of those soft leathery pads across his shaft was truly divine, kindling an intense pleasure in his groin and blazing outward along his back, and thighs. His hips bucked, because it made the great Okami feel good. His feet pressed firmer against the underside of that rigid shaft, because that was what the goddess needed. God... goddess... he wasn't sure anymore. There was only the searing need, the pent-up sexual hunger of the sun funneling into his body. It transcended gender, and it was predatory and monstrous. He could feel the pre flowing faster as the knot ballooned and went rock hard at the base. His body forced to become sacred in the most profane way imaginable.

"Yes, cum, my vessel," the voice of Amaterasu growled as the lust built up to its inevitable peak. "Let us taste the fruits of our labor."

At the moment of truth, his rippling werebeast body curled forward without distress, maw parting and muzzle encompassing the length of that cock. The climax was so strong that he could feel the internal part of his cock spasming through his taint against the surface of the bed. The seed was delicious -- sweet and cooling, like lemonade on a summer's day, in contrast to the raw sexual fire that had preceded is coming. Amaterasu drank deeply of it, growls turning to softer rumblings as the delicious drink progressed.

The afterglow seemed to hit Ryan's mind harder than it did the possessing entity's. While Amaterasu continued eagerly suckling at himself and teasing out those feelings of overstimulation for the fun of it, Ryan felt his own mind getting assailed and overwhelmed by it all. He felt weak... sleepy, even, but he somehow couldn't sleep. He couldn't turn it off and go away. He had to be there, conscious, for every twinge of every nerve.

Amidst this ongoing self-sucking enjoyment, Ryan wondered how it came to this. Had the great Okami been corrupted? Was there a real Amateratsu who happened to be considerably more evil than how the games had depicted? Or was it something else entirely?

Reading his confusion and being amused by it, the possessing spirit pulled back from that cock enough to speak from his fanged jaws: "Hreh-heh~! There's so much they don't tell in the stories. The sun also burns with passion, my dear vessel. Even if only by happenstance, you have been chosen for a most auspicious purpose."

Ryan wondered what that purpose was, but got only a cryptic response.

"To do all that the great Okami must do -- that shall be this vessel's purpose. All that it must, and all that it wants. This body belongs to Amaterasu forevermore."

There appeared to be no arguing with it. Every attempt to assert his will was met with a feeling of searing heat, as if he were a meager ghost pressing against a cage formed by those fiery red brands on his fur.

Trapped. Observing.

Ryan felt his feet press the carpeted floor, his ankles changing their angle as the Okami pushed upright.

"Restless spirits," the deep voice uttered. His nose began to sniff the air, and a strange intuition followed. His mighty right arm shoved the window up and open, before casually punching out the screen. Ryan felt a moistness at the tip of his tail as something like paint formed upon it. "Let us go forth and correct this."

Still knotted, erect, and dripping, he bounded away on all fours into the night. That erection would subside moments later, replaced by laser-intense focus on the job at hand.

Ryan wanted to ask if Amaterasu just needed a break now and then between times of fighting evil, but he wasn't getting a response anymore. The brush-stroking wolf was on the prowl, fully intent on destroying the enemies of the daylight.

Ryan, exactly as he had been told, would have no choice but to observe this as well... and there was no telling what other intimacies he would become privy to thereafter.

Dirt, grass, and gravel kicked up behind his paws as he tore away into the night.