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Knothole High: Playing Smart

Lesson One: You might need Adult Supervision

Ding-dong.

Manfred Weismann wasn't expecting anyone at 1 PM in the afternoon. School wouldn't be out for another two hours or so and he was expecting his sons to arrive an hour afterwards at four. Perhaps his preteen would arrive a little sooner. The school bus was very slow.

He peeked out the window, brushing aside his long, brown hair. It had been a while since he had been out of the military but longer hair was still something he was finding difficulty adjusting to. Still, apparently, girls were turned off by the 'crew cut' and they linked guys there were a little more roguish in appearance.

Outside, a big, black pickup truck was parked. Puzzled, he moved to the door and glanced through the peephole. All he saw were two, enormous pectoral muscles stretching a shirt with the words 'Knothole' imprinted across those two massive valleys slowly rising with each deep breath.

Manfred's heart instantly sank and he quickly opened the door.

A big, wolf towered over him, soft brown eyes contrasting against the masses of muscles that were hidden beneath thin clothing and a similarly thin layer of fur. By the silver whistle that hung around his thick, corded neck and bounced just between his two, upper abdominal muscles - not to mention those tight shorts that were stretched taut by enormous thighs - this was none other than Coach Steele.

'Everyone's favourite teacher' apparently.

"Can I help you?" Manfred asked tentatively.

"Max West?" the big, burly wolf asked.

Manfred chuckled, mostly in relief. "No, actually. It's 'Manfred'. Manfred Weismann."

The wolf glanced at the clipboard he was carrying. "Ah! My bad. That's right, you're Nicholas' dad, right? Max was someone I was planning to talk to later." He grinned and tapped the side of his head. "Sorry man, too many names up here."

The ice was certainly broken and Manfred leaned against the doorframe casually. "Not a problem. Can I help you... Steele, was it?"

The wolf laughed and lowered his clipboard. "Well, if you can tell me where Max lives, that'd be great! But apart from that, I also wanted to talk to you about your son."

"Nicholas? What's wrong with him?"

"May I come in?" the burly coach asked, gesturing past Manfred.

"Sure." Manfred stepped aside and let Coach Steele pass, the massive wolf taking up the entire doorframe and even having to duck down a little. He guided the wolf over to the lounge room where he had been watching the latest rerun of the previous weekend's football game.

"You like playing ball?" Steele asked, causing the couch to groan against his weight.

"Used to play in college until I got this." He gestured at his belly. "Served in the military a bit and got rid of it but now it's back. Comes with having a rocky divorce and having to take care of two kids and parking your ass at a desk job 9 - 5."

"Fair enough," Steele chuckled. "Bet you'd love to get your high school body back, huh?"

"Nah. Would prefer my military bod." Feeling a bit of pride and a sliver of depression, Manfred picked up one of the photographs sitting on the tea table and showed it to Steele. "See that? That's me."

Steele let out a low whistle as Manfred recalled his toned, muscle-bound body of yesteryear. He still had the arms of someone who had served in the military but never really saw combat. Most of his muscles were now covered in layers of fat and he had a horrible posture due to stooping over a computer all day.

"That's certainly impressive..." Steele narrowed his gaze at the photograph. "Sergeant, is it?"

"Yep!" Manfred said proudly, puffing out his chest. He hoped his manboobs looked enough like the pecs Coach Steele brandished. He had to take in a big lungful of air just for that simple effort. The stink of dog filled his nostrils but he stopped himself from spluttering in disgust. Not only would it be disrespectful to the Coach but also he'd lose his puffed out chest.

"Well, sergeant," Steele said, setting down the photograph, "I was hoping we could talk about Nicholas..."

"Right... Right..." Manfred took that as a sign that he could deflate his chest and leaned back against the couch to hide his bulging belly. "So... What seems to be the problem, Coach?"

Steele looked a little flustered and reached scratched the back of his head, revealing a rather big sweat stain under his armpits. Manfred was once again hit by the overpowering aroma of the lupine's scent this time mixed with the distinct smell of sweaty, overworked man.

"This isn't easy... No matter how many times I've had to do it today..."

That did not sound good. Manfred leaned forward, taking a deep breath. Despite the strong scent in the air, he had been around sweaty guys long enough to have gotten used to a lack of deodorant. It took him back to his army days. The camaraderie in those barracks, the dirt in his face and the long, hot, relaxing showers next to other guys...

He blinked the thoughts away.

"What's wrong with Nicholas?" he pressed.

"He isn't doing so well in PE," the Coach answered. "I know he tries but with his grades... Well... I'm afraid he may not pass this semester..."

Manfred gulped loudly as the Coach moved in closer and held up the clipboard to him. Next to the name 'Nicholas Weismann' was a series of dismal grades ranging from F... to D. He wiped his forehead as his heart began racing in his chest. Fear gripped him. The last thing he wanted was for Nicholas to fail. Not when he just got into one of the most prestigious schools in the state!

"What can we do?"

"Well..." the Coach said, bobbing his head from side to side, "there are other ways he can earn some credits. If he joins one of the sports oriented extracurricular activities, for instance, I'd be more than happy to pass him. He has to stick with it for the rest of the semester though. Attend every practice unless I get written confirmation from you."

Manfred nodded numbly. "That sounds reasonable..." He gripped the collar of his shirt and pulled it away from his chest, letting out the heat that had been building in his chest. "Man... Is it hot in here or is it just me?"

Coach Steele smiled softly. "No. You're definitely hot."

For a second, the ex-military sergeant blinked.

Did... Did his son's coach just hit on him?

"Um... Thanks?"

"Never been hit on by a guy before, sergeant?" Steele asked, leaning back against the couch with a grin. Manfred couldn't help but stare at the Coach's revealing shorts... and the sizable package there.

"Erm... no...?"

"You're kidding. In the military? Don't tell me you guys didn't get 'lonely'."

Manfred was starting to feel really uncomfortable and he shirt was chaffing him. "I... I may have experimented once or twice." He held up his hands. "But look here, man. I have a wife... I had a wife," he corrected himself. "I've got two kids. I'm not ready for a relationship."

Suddenly, Manfred found himself nose to nose with Coach Steele, a heady, musky, manly smell wafting into his nostrils.

"Who said anything about a relationship? What about just some 'fun' before the kids get home?"

"I -"

He never got a word in.

Manfred suddenly found his lips full of the Coach's muzzle and his own hands reaching up to seize the big wolf's fur, clutching it passionately. His eyes rolled into the back of his head as his cock pressed up against those rock hard abs that were hovering over his belly.

The last thing he remembered...

... was his youngest son, Charlie...

"Dad...?"

****

Lesson Two: Play with your Strengths

The school bell rang and it was time for the last class of the day for Nicholas Weismann. A class he dreaded more than anything else in the world while the majority of Knothole High's population seemed to revel in it.

Physical Education.

Nicholas was never much of a sporty guy. Heck, the original freshmen in Knothole High weren't sporty. But as the school slowly 'trimmed the fat' and got rid of those who just couldn't cut the high-pressure, sports-oriented environment, more and more transfers started filtering in. Most of them being huge, canine or lupine jocks who were constantly butting heads, wrestling for some ball or chasing one another just for the hell of it.

It they weren't doing that... they were bullying the old-new kids.

There became a clear distinction between the old-new kids and the new-new kids.

Old-new were either small, skinny, fat or lazy.

New-new were big, tall, muscular and stank of sweat and dog all day.

Nicholas made a point to avoid the new-new.

He had watched his friends get bullied only to leave the school a few days later, never to be heard from again. No 'sorry, I just can't take it anymore' or 'I'll miss you' messages. Just gone, poof. Of course, some new canine muscle-head would move in the next day.

"Hey Nicholas!"

A short, scrawny Chinese boy with a distinct overbite came running up to him, waving eagerly. One of his waves dislodged his thick glasses which he had to adjust as he approached Nicholas with a big grin on his face.

"Guess what I got?" Arthur Lee teased, hiding something behind his back.

"Arty, I'm gonna be late for PE..." Nicholas complained.

"Fine." Arty pulled out a glimmering, stylised card from behind his back. "Check it out! Mardurk the Barbarian! First Edition!"

Nicholas' eyes brightened at the sight of the card and for a moment, his worried around his impending doom on the basketball courts faded away. "Wow! Where'd you get it?"

"Would you believe one of the footballer had it?" Arty laughed, throwing his head back. "I mean, he made me swear never to tell anyone but he actually has a big collection of them and he had Mardurk a spare! He was really nice too and gave it to me for free!"

Arty elbowed Nicholas playfully. "You gotta come over tonight. I wanna test my new deck!"

Chuckling, Nicholas nodded with a grin. "Sounds sweet. I'll see you tonight!"

"Awesome!" Arty turned around, bounding for his own classes, a skip in his step.

Suddenly, Nicholas' day had gotten better. What was an hour and a half of being told he sucked at sports when he could spend the rest of the night with his best friend?

The answer came in the form of an enormous canine with a cloud if man-stench hanging over him.

Lex Petermam.

Wham!

Nicholas staggered forward, barely clinging onto his books.

"Yo! Watch it pussy!"

The huge wrestling pitbull was one of the biggest guys in the school. His shoulder span almost took up the entire hallway. Anyone who bumped into him either got shoved into a locker or shoved in a locker. And with size like his, it was impossible not to bump into him.

Everyone around the school called him 'Pits' mostly because out of every other jock in the school, he stank the most. Everyone theorised he didn't bathe because it was his 'secret weapon'. He'd pin his foe down and overpower them not only with his enormous strength but by the strength of his body odour.

And the worst part?

Pits' locker was right next to Nicholas'.

"Yo! Rick!" Lex shouted, lifting his left paw for a high-five, completely ignoring Nicholas. "Awesome match yesterday, dude! You really nailed that fucker!"

Rick Fells swaggered over to Lex, wearing his lettered jacket and slamming his paw against the pitbull's. They laughed heartily, bumped massive pecs against massive pecs. Then Lex caught Rick in a headlock, letting out a loud 'whoooo' and lifting his arms in joy.

Nicholas fought hard not to gag.

The stench was just unbearable. There was almost a physical wall of stench around the two. He didn't know how Rick could stand it. All the other students - well, the old-new students - were giving the two a wide berth. Lex's odour was almost like an anti-old-new field.

Still, Nicholas needed to get his locker or he'd be late for PE and judging by his grades, he couldn't afford to be late. Coach Steele was really cracking down on students failing his classes these days. He heard that the Coach had taken the rest of the day off to visit the families of students who were failing to talk to them personally.

He sincerely hoped his dad wasn't home.

With a deep breath of stagnant, malodorous air, Nicholas charged headlong to his locker and quickly tried to twist the dial in the correct sequence. He pulled at the lock.

Click.

No dice.

He tried again.

Click.

He was running out of air.

WHAM!

Nicholas gave a cry of shock as he tumbled to the ground, spilling his books in all directions. His head swam not only because he had hit it hard on the ground but also because he had taken another lungful of the Pits' stench. His stomach rebelled but he forced it down, tears willing in his eyes from the effort.

"You! Watch it you tiny fucker!" Lex growled.

He didn't have the courage or the strength to stand up for himself.

Hell, he didn't have the courage or the strength to stand up.

Nicholas merely muttered a soft, 'sorry', kept his head down and gathered his books. Lex ignored him and went on chatting about some wrestling match he was in and how he made Coach Steele proud. With the big bully distracted for the moment, Nicholas managed to get to his locker and finally opened his lock.

Click-click!

WHAM!

A physical wall of stink struck him hard, causing him to stagger back and hit a hard wall of muscle.

"Hey! Watch what you're doing with my stuff, shitface!" Lex shouted, shoving him back into the locker.

Nicholas gagged as he peeled the stained, recently used jockstrap from his face. It smelled of male dog... and sex. The words 'Alexander Peterman' was written on the rim of the garment.

"Gross!" he cried, tossing it aside in disgust. He spun around... and found his entire locker filled with discarded clothing of all sorts. There was a crumpled wrestler's uniform with heavily stained armpits and a wide variety of boxer shorts, briefs and jockstraps.

All of them were clearly marked as belonging to Alexander Peterman.

"Pick that up, shitface!" Lex barked. "Don't you got not respect for another guy's stuff!?"

Nicholas stared at his locker... Briefly, he wondered where his stuff all went... Then... Something just snapped.

A primal roar escaped him as he spun around and hurled himself at Lex Peterman. The crowd instantly erupted into a chorus of 'fight-fight-fight' but even before Nicholas could understand what he had done, he was being slammed against the tiled floor and staring at a huge fist that was primed to cave his skull in!

"Alexander Peterman!"

The deep, booming voice instantly froze everyone in the hallway.

Coach Steele cleaved a path through the crowd, hackles raised and fangs bared. The enormous wrestling pitbull was bigger than the Coach but even he seemed small compared to the raging wolf. Lex whimpered, folded his ears against his skull and instantly pulled away from Nicholas.

"Coach, he -"

"Don't try it, Lex," Steele barked. "Your lucky duck boxers are still hanging from his locker!"

It was true. A pair of bright blue boxers - clearly marked as the 'property of Alexander Peterman' - hung halfway out of Nicholas' locker.

"You two," Steele snapped. "My office. Now."

Nicholas took some grim satisfaction in having seen the big pitbull humiliated in front of the crowd like that. He had no doubt he'd suffer for it later but for the moment, the only thing that was clear in the murky expanse of his brain was that he had gotten Lex into trouble.

He groggily followed a fuming Coach Steele out of the main school building and into the gymnasium. The big wolf slammed the door shut behind him as he ordered Lex to sit down. Nicholas wasn't ordered to do anything but he decided to sit as well. He was feeling very tired all of the sudden. His legs weren't cooperating with him and they felt like jelly.

Too much adrenaline, he figured.

"How many times have I told you, no fighting!" Steele snapped, pointing a finger accusingly at Lex.

"It wasn't me, Coach!" Lex protested. "This little fucker -"

"I said 'no fighting', not 'not starting fights'!" Steele interrupted sharply. "It doesn't matter who started the fight, Lex. All that matters is that you participated in the goddamn fight. If you laid a paw on him, I could have you suspended!"

Lex suddenly grew defiant. "No you wouldn't. I'm the best wrestler in the school. You know that."

Wham!

Steele slammed is fist into the table. "Damnit if you aren't right but believe me, no matter how close we are to winning that trophy, I will suspend you. I'd rather have a well-adjusted pup than an insolent, rabid dog! You understand me!?"

Lex ducked his head and nodded slowly. "Yes, Coach."

"Now apologise to Nicholas."

The pitbull's lips peeled back in a growl but Steele matched it with a laser-like stare.

"Sorry..."

"Sorry, what?" Steele prompted.

"Sorry for stuffing my junk in your locker."

The big wolf sighed heavily and shook his head. "Work on it, Lex. I've got somewhere to be. In case you didn't know, you've got detention."

With those words, Coach Steele got up and slammed the door behind him as he left.

Nicholas felt very smug about himself... until he realised the Coach had just left him with the pitbull intent on his murder. His heart sank as he slowly turned towards Lex's eyes, each black orb yearning for blood. His blood.

"You're in for it now, fucker," Lex growled.

Nicholas held up his hands in surrender. "Hey! Remember what Coach Steele said!"

The pitbull just grinned darkly as he reached into the pocket of his tight shorts and pulled out a white, elastic jockstrap. "Yeah. But this ain't gonna be much of a fight."

WHAM!

Nicholas saw stars, his back pressed up against the cold floor. His gasp of pain was interrupted when that jockstrap was wrapped around his lips, the straps hooking over his ears and effectively acting as a mask! A mask filled with a stagnant smell of the Pits' crotch! Nicholas tried to pull it off but he suddenly found Lex's massive weight on top of him, huge pecs pressing down on his chest and meaty hands pinning his wrists to the ground.

He tried to scream...

But his mouth was suddenly muffled...

Not only by Lex's jockstrap...

... but also his muzzle.

The pitbull's lips closed around the jockstrap, sucking and dripping saliva from his long, flat, tongue into the fabric. His breath filtered through the fabric, wafting down Nicholas' throat...

Nicholas didn't know what was happening...

... or why his tongue slivered out of his awed lips and met Lex's tongue with only the fabric separating them.

Lex pulled his muzzle again, grinning from ear to ear. "Tap out, Cole."

Lesson Three: Pursue your Goals

Nicholas' head hurt as he staggered into his home.

He didn't remember what happened after being called into Coach Steele's office. Some part of him guessed that the mixed odours of the Coach's office and Lex Peterman eventually got to him and he passed out. He certainly smelled like Lex and he vowed to take a shower the instant he passed through those doors.

"Dad, Charlie, I'm home."

"Nicholas?" his father asked, looking over his shoulder from the lounge room. "It's five in the afternoon, son. What kept you?"

Truth be told, Nicholas didn't know himself...

"I had to talk to Coach Steele for a bit... This guy at school has been giving me trouble."

"Trouble?" Manfred Weismann asked, patting the seat beside him. Taking the cue, Nicholas dropped his bag in the lounge room and sat down beside his father. "Is that why you haven't been doing well in your PE class?"

He gave his father a startled look.

"Your Coach came to me this afternoon. He told me you were failing his class."

Nicholas had to wince.

So the Coach did talk to his father... A pit of fear bubbled up in his stomach while a hole of despair filled his head, sucking out all logic. It would be so easy to blame the bullying on his poor performance but that would be lying. Honesty was harder but with less punishment in the end.

He took the easy way out.

"Yeah... I just haven't... I just don't think I'm cut out to be like those guys..."

"Son, you don't have to be like them," Manfred replied, resting an arm around his son's shoulders. "You just have to be yourself. But also pass your classes," he added with a chuckle. "Your Coach said that if you joined any of the extracurricular sports clubs, he'll pass you."

Not only would he have to put up with PE during normal school hours, now he had to put up with it after school too?

He hid his groan behind and thinly veiled smile. "Yeah... That sounds good. I'll look into the..." He thought up a team at random. "... swim team tomorrow."

"Good. See that you do." Manfred got up and clapped his hands together. "So what did you want for dinner?"

That bubbling pit in his stomach was gone and with it, any chance of an appetite. "Um... I'm not feeling very hungry, dad... Mind if I just head to bed... Kind of tired..."

Manfred looked a little puzzled. "Funny... Your little brother said the same thing..." He shrugged. "Well, truth be told, I'm feeling rather full myself!" He laughed and patted his rather rounded belly. "Tell you what, I'll cook something up and if you get hungry in the night, it'll be in the fridge!"

Nicholas nodded, agreeing to those terms.

Homework was scarce this day and he decided that after a quick shower and maybe some computer games, he'd be off to bed. After depositing his bag in his room, he fetched a change of clothes and headed straight for the shower room. He peeled off his garments, glad to be rid of Lex Peterman's stench. He could almost see tiny, germ-like Lex-look-alikes crawling all over his uniform.

He winced as he tossed pulled off his collared shirt and tossed it into the laundry hamper. As his bare nipples brushed against the cloth, he briefly wondered if he had forgotten to put on a singlet today. He must have. With a shrug, he peeled off his pants and set them aside.

As he went off to remove his boxers...

... he became aware something was wrong.

He wasn't wearing boxers like he usually did.

He was wearing a jockstrap.

Firstly, he didn't own any jockstraps.

Secondly... As he pulled the elastic bonds away from his crotch, he spied the upside down letters that stated the jockstrap was the 'Property of Alexander Peterman'.

His heart instantly leapt to his throat as he hastily pulled the jockstrap off and tossed it halfway across the bathroom. It slammed against the bathroom mirror before sliding down like some sick, cancerous parasite to slump over the sink.

Questions fluttered inside Nicholas' brain but they all came to a jarring halt whenever he searched for answers... mostly because there were no answers to find. He tried to think back to what had happened in Coach Steele's office... Nothing after the Coach left returned to him. Maybe he had taken Lex's jockstrap as evidence? But how did that explain him wearing it?

Slowly... he advanced towards the jockstrap and poked it with a finger, instantly drawing back. He feared it might be one of those facehuggers that would leap at him and lay its eggs deep inside his stomach, giving birth to a ferocious alien.

It didn't move.

It was just a jockstrap.

Lex Peterman's jockstrap but just a jockstrap.

Cautiously, Nicholas picked it up and wondered what he should do with it. If his father found out... well... He didn't want his father to find out that not only had he lied to him but that Nicholas had assaulted Lex. This one piece of evidence could undo him.

He had to get rid of it.

Nicholas decided the best place to hide it would be in his room and later tonight, when everyone else was asleep, he would toss it in the garbage, never to be seen or heard from again. Nodding in resolution, he placed the jockstrap on top of his folded pants...

... then pulled it towards his nose, taking a brief sniff of the deep, heady stench lingering in the fabric.

Yep. It was Lex's.

Definitely stunk like him.

Just had to make sure he wasn't being delirious.

A quick shower later, he was feeling refreshed and more clear-headed. He tossed the jockstrap under his bed to make sure no one would see it and switched on his laptop. His instant messenger instantly blared out in alarm stating that 'Arty' wanted to video chat.

Accepted the call.

"Dude! Where were you?"_Arty exclaimed, his dark eyes narrowed in annoyance. _"I thought you were coming over!"

Nicholas had completely forgotten and he slapped his forehead for emphasis. "D'oh! Sorry, man! I... uh... I kinda got into something..."

"Yeah, I heard. You finally got Lex off your back?"

"Not... quite..." Nicholas muttered softly. "Listen, sorry I couldn't come over. I doubt my dad would've let me. Apparently Coach Steele came over during lunch and talked to him about my failing PE."

"I hear ya, man. My old man was royally pissed_that I sucked at sports. Old news, mind you, but I guess it's a little more serious when the Coach comes over, huh?"_

"Yeah..."

"Whatcha planning on doing?"

Nicholas shrugged. "Well... The Coach says I have to join one of the extracurricular teams. I figure the easiest one would be swimming..."

"Why not table tennis?"

"Dude, I am not going to join table tennis with you. Ping-Pong balls replaced bullets in the Chinese military years ago."

"Racist faggot."

"Card-sniffing troll."

Arty just grinned on the screen. "Okay, okay. How about this? We try out for both. I mean, neither of us are actually going to be good right? Not like we'll be competing. We might as well kill some time after school."

"I guess playing video or card games all day isn't such a good idea, huh?" Nicholas laughed.

"Blasphemer."

Nicholas chuckled. "Listen man, I'm feeling kind of tired. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"You know? I'm kinda beat myself. Yeah, I'll see you tomorrow. G'night."

"Night, man."

Nicholas switched off his laptop, suddenly feeling a great weariness take him. He set it aside and tucked into his bed. All the while, his mind kept drifting to that jockstrap. It was a burning memento of something he couldn't remember but he knew he didn't want to remember. He tried to keep himself awake, waiting patiently until the rest of the house was asleep.

Hours seemed to pass as he pondered that jockstrap.

Knock-knock

"Nicky..."

No dice.

"Charlie?" he asked, sitting up in bed.

His little brother, no more than twelve years of age, opened the door into his room, rubbing his eyes sleepily. "I couldn't go to sleep..."

"Go to dad then," Nicholas answered, a little annoyed.

"Dad says he's busy."

Busy? What could his father be doing at this late hour?

It was already eight in the evening.

Nicholas sighed and slid over in his bed. "Fine. Come on in."

Charlie smiled gently and shuffled into Nicholas' bed, turning his back to his brother and curling up. Nicholas felt a touch of a smile on his lips as he watched his brother start to drift off to sleep. He knew one day, he'd hold this over his brother's head at a wedding or something and while he may act so reluctant now, he will grow to miss these moments.

He draped the blanket over Charlie's body and lay down beside his brother.

"I had a weird dream..." Charlie admitted softly. "We were werewolves..."

Lesson Four: Learn from a Professional

Arty couldn't make it.

Apparently, he got caught up in his art class. They had a project due soon and, being an artist, he spent more time sniffing turpentine than actually doing any work. Nicholas shook the thought from his head, pushing aside his vindictiveness and telling himself that he will have a stern chat with Arty after swim team tryouts which were during lunch.

Oddly enough, Nicholas had expected Coach Steele to be the one overseeing the tryouts.

In actual fact... it was worse.

_Much_worse.

It was Lex Peterman.

"Okay you motherfuckers," the big pitbull snarled, casting his gaze over the six individuals who were dressed in nothing but a pair of blue and yellow trunks. "Don't think that swim team is just about floating in the fucking pool and splashing water every few seconds. You're here to do laps, beat times and do more than just keeping your head above water!"

The pitbull stalked in front of the new recruits, eyes flashing in particular when he spied Nicholas. A sadistic grin crossed what white muzzle as he turned from one potential swimmer to the other.

"Let's get something straight, fuckers," he growled, "I'm not here to save you if you drown. So you all better not be afraid of water. Now... Give me ten laps! GO!"

Nicholas instantly snapped into attention. Panic filled him and he quickly dove into the pool... poorly. The water slammed his bare belly hard but he winced, taking the loud bellyflop as it burned his flesh and he swam for his life from one end of the pool to the other. Lex kept barking insults at them, telling them to 'tighten their legs' or 'stretch out their arms'. Always, his criticisms were marred with the word 'fuckers' or 'motherfuckers'. Occasionally, it was 'shithead'.

Ten laps quickly evolved into twenty and then thirty.

All the while, Nicholas found brief moments of solace when he dove under the waves and was greeted by blissful silence. Whenever he came up for air, however, there would be Lex barking orders at him.

An hour crawled by agonisingly slow and when Lex finally decided to let them go, it was a further fifteen minutes after they were meant to finish. Nicholas pulled himself out of the pool agonisingly slowly. Some of his classmates even fell back into the pool out of exhaustion. Every muscle in his body ached and burned. His lungs couldn't have been more grateful to have a constant flow of air instead of being forced to squeeze every molecule of oxygen.

"Hit the showers!" Lex barked.

Nicholas decided he had enough water for the one day and decided to just sit by the pool for a little longer. He would take a shower once he had gotten over his small degree of hydrophobia. Or perhaps it was 'Lexophobia'? The last thing he wanted was for Lex to be shouting more insults at him while he showered, criticising him for 'not getting all the dirt off' or calling him a 'filthy motherfucker'.

As he watched the pitbull disappear into the shower rooms, herding the other members of the swim team, he could hear those insults. He guessed that because he hadn't told them to just pack up and forget about swimming, they all made the cut. Not that there was really a freshman swim team to speak of.

Nicholas let out a long, sigh and laid back on the bench, just letting himself drift off in thought, trying to let his aching muscles recuperate. It was a hard task not to focus on the aches all over his body and think of something more... happy. He took comfort from the fact that as long as he kept this up for the rest of the year, he wouldn't be held back and have to deal with the compulsory sports requirement.

It was also hard to find a moment of solace when Lex's insults carried all the way to the pool from the change rooms.

Only one place offered any sort of silent embrace.

Nicholas slowly slid himself back into the pool and allowed himself to drift underwater. Blissful silence met him and he let himself drift off, only letting the silence shatter as he came up for air. After about a good ten or so dunks, his muscles were sufficiently relaxed that he easily swam to the edge of the pool and pulled himself out without difficulty.

Lex's shouts had ended and he guessed he along with the rest of the team had already left.

Glad to have some privacy, Nicholas headed into the change rooms, dripping wet and with the smell of chlorine clinging to his hair and skin. He picked up the shampoo and soap he had brought with him and wandered over to the broad, public showers. Unlike the change rooms next to the main gymnasium, the swimming pool's change rooms didn't have private shower stalls. Apparently more efficient that way.

Besides, he had the whole change rooms to himself.

There was no need to be shy about -

"What the fuck are you still doing here!?"

So much for that...

He spun around as Lex marched up to him, towel around his waist and huge, rippling muscles out for the world to see.

Nicholas gulped loudly and backed against the shower stall. "I - I was just -"

"Did you go back in the pool without me watching?" Lex demanded, looming over the smaller boy with fangs bared.

"N - N - No..." That stare didn't let the lie last very long. "Yeah..."

"Fucking idiot," Lex growled. "Never go into the pool unsupervised."

"I can swim..."

"That show back there ain't swimming," the pitbull growled, hiking a thumb back over his shoulder. "'sides, your muscles are all cramped up and tired. What would've happened if you jumped in the deep end and suddenly couldn't get out, huh? I don't care how old you think you are. You're in my swim team-" He jabbed a fat finger against Nicholas' chest. " -so you follow my rules, got that, Nick?"

It surprised Nicholas that Lex actually knew his name... sort of. "Alright..." he murmured softly. "Sorry..."

"Damn fucking straight. Now shove over. I'm gonna shower too."

Nicholas gave a small 'eep' and shuffled over to the next shower stall. Lex's heavy scent filled the air and he found his mind starting to slip as oxygen was becoming scarce. He turned his back towards the pitbull as he switched on the shower, hoping that the rain of warm water would drown out the strangely intoxicating stench.

"Hey, can I borrow your soap?"

Nicholas turned around, bewildered. "Huh?"

"Your soap, shithead. I need it."

Gulping, Nicholas picked up the block of soap he had with him and offered it to the big pitbull. He tried with all his might not to look at the massive canine's cock but there seemed an invisible force of intimidation that pushed his head down, forcing him to look straight at those baseball sized balls and the thick sausage covered by a white, fluffy sheath.

"Eyes up here, dickweed."

Nicholas snapped his eyes back up, a blood rushing to his cheeks.

"You ain't no fag are you, fucker?"

How do you answer that? If he said 'no'... did that mean he was a faggot...? Double negatives made his head hurt. That and the heavy stench that was emanating from the pitbull.

"Whatever," Lex grunted, turning around and switching on his own shower stall. "Enjoy the view, fag."

Nicholas couldn't muster the strength to deny the charge. He bore it with silent dignity and simply went back to trying to wash the chlorine off his body. It wasn't long though until Lex was swearing again.

"Fuck..."

"What is it?" Nicholas asked softly.

"This is the problem with having fucking wide shoulders and big biceps," Lex grunted, trying to rub the block of soap against his shoulder blades but failing badly. "You're luck you're such a twig."

Was that an insult...?

"Did you want me to...?"

The pitbull gave him a dubious look. "Fine. But if I feel a boner against my ass, I'm pounding you into the ground."

Don't have to worry about that, Nicholas thought mildly. He could never get aroused by this cursing, crass pitbull. He took the soap from Lex and gently rubbed it into the short fur across the pitbull's broad, muscular back. A pool of jealousy bubbled up from inside his stomach as he faintly wished he had the same muscles across his back.

Perhaps then he wouldn't be bullied by this monster of a pitbull.

Lex let out a soft moan. "Mmmm... You do that good, man."

"Thanks..."

"Little lower..."

Nicholas could see where this was going. "I think you can reach that far," he answered, dropping the soap back into Lex's paws. He turned around and continued to wash himself. A good thing too. Even with the fragrance of the soap and the constant torrent of water, he Lex still stank.

Suddenly, that stink just seemed to intensify.

"What? You not man enough to touch another man?"

Nicholas rolled his eyes. "Is there anyway I can answer that without getting pounded to the ground?" he asked, spinning around.

His jaw instantly dropped.

In front of him was a tremendous fourteen inch canine cock, bright red, throbbing and dripping with precum. It felt like he had just rammed into a heavy, brick wall of manly scent. His consciousness was knocked halfway out of his head and he was already reaching out for that cock before he reeled himself in.

"What the...?" he began.

"What's wrong, dude?" Lex chuckled, his deep voice echoing in the half-hollowed recesses of Nicholas' mind. "Never seen a dog's cock before? Here, have a closer look."

Before he knew what was happening, he is face was being shoved at that cock. The hot, throbbing meat jabbed itself down his throat, spraying a hot load of precum down his throat. He gagged and pulled away. His gasp of breath was a mistake as he took a full blow of Lex's scent and mixed with the precum that slid down his throat, warming him all the way down, simply send his inhibitions flying. The young man became aware of a throbbing heat in his own groin and he stared down at his six inch cock pulsing against his belly, barely peeking over his squared chest.

Squared chest...?

"What the...?" he began. Lifting his hands, he saw veins crossing against the back of his hands. One particular vein pulsed against his firm bicep. He swore he didn't have that before.

"Hmmm... Coming along real nice there, Mr. West," Lex chuckled, advancing and pressing his hot body against Nicholas'. Suddenly, the boy had his nose buried between the thick valleys of a muscular chest. His cock rubbed hard against the canine meat of the pitbull, the volcanic heat pumping out of Lex's cock seemingly seeping into Nicholas'. That heat crept throughout Nicholas' entire body, lifting his temperature and forcing him to start panting.

With every breath he took, he brought in more and more of Lex's heavenly scent.

He pulled away from Lex's pecs only to wrap his arms around that slim waist and seize those bubble-like glutes. His nose navigated all the way towards Lex's armpits, the greatest source of that heavenly scent. Nicholas suddenly found himself too short. He couldn't reach the thick bush of fur there.

"Come on, Mr. West," Lex chuckled. "You can do it." He lifted his armpit, unleashing a fresh wave of essence of man down at him. Nicholas greedily breathed in the scent. His chest reached its limit... but he could still take more and he couldn't stop.

He felt his pecs start to press up against Lex's own and as he sucked in more of that scent, his nose grew closer and closer to bliss. Nicholas, eyes half closed in pleasure, began grinding his cock against Lex's. Every thrust, he felt a deep pleasure rise from the base of his cock before rushing forward and spurting a fresh load of pre to join Lex's own.

"Fuck... You're sexy..." he moaned.

"Coming from you sir, that's a compliment," Lex chuckled.

Sir... He killed that.

He liked that a lot.

Nicholas grinned and let his tongue slide out between his lips...

... and drew it across that thick, bush of underarm fur...

Lesson Five: Exercise Often

Cole West stretched his big, muscular arms built over years of military service. Thick, veined forearms flexed in front of Lex's nose as the older German Shepherd licked the teenager's cheeks with a long, fat tongue.

"That was one hell of a fuck, kid," he rumbled, flexing his rock-hard cock which was still buried deep inside the pitbull. "How do you not have a mate?"

Lex chuckled softly and turned his muzzle towards the handsome, brown eyed canine who towered over him and out-weighed him. Perhaps if they met on the wrestling mat, the Shepherd would beat him paws down. Lex still had a little layer of fat over his muscles but Cole was absolutely ripped. Muscles that shouldn't be showing pressed up against the fluffy, short, brown and black fur covering his body.

"Well, I do have eyes for your son, Chuck..." Lex admitted.

The Shepherd grinned at him. "Is this your way of asking if you can date my son?"

"You didn't mind yesterday."

Cole rolled his eyes and slowly pulled out of the pitbull, making the latter wince softly. "Kid, you're a star in my eyes. As long as Max agrees with it, I'm good with it. You'll have to talk to him about it." Cole grinned broadly. "Hey, why don't you come over some time? We can have a nice talk and maybe you can 'convince' my mate."

Lex smiled and straightened, wiping the cum off his chest. "I like that idea, sir."

"Just call me 'Cole', Lex. We're practically family now!" With a laugh, he wrapped one huge arm around the wrestler's shoulders and gave him a friendly hug. "Now come on, let's get dressed before someone walks in on us."

Lex agreed to those terms and dressed himself, all the while watching that army sculpted body of Cole West get concealed by some of the stray clothing that he had brought in just for this occasion. He had to admit that he was somewhat disappointed when Cole was not only mated but also much older than him. Still, that didn't stop him from going after the sexy German Shepherd's son.

He licked his lips in anticipation of the coming meeting and being part of the West family. Hell, he couldn't wait to introduce them to his four brothers and father. That would be one hell of a family gathering.

And people wondered why his fur was white.

His snicker caught the army dog's attention and the towering, seven and a half foot titan turned to him, muscles rippling underneath his plain, dark green shirt. "What are you snickering about, kid?"

"Nothing, sir."

"Yeah right. Come here."

The German Shepherd suddenly slammed him against one of the lockers, their muzzles meeting in a hot, steaming kiss. Lex's erection ached painfully in his pants and as he reached over with one of his paws, he felt the throbbing meat of Cole West against the shorts he had been loaned.

"We just got dressed, sir," he whispered softly.

"Are you complaining?"

"Hell no."

They both heard a clunk and the two canines spun towards the entrance into the change rooms.

There stood a small, Asian kid that Lex vaguely remembered... It was Nicholas' best friend... What was his name...? Arty?

"Oh... Uh..." Arty muttered. "Sorry! I was looking for Nicholas! Sorry!"

The boy spun.

"Stop right there, son!"

The booming command came out of the intimidating German Shepherd. Cole West stormed over to a paralysed Arthur Vinemont. He laid a comforting paw on the boy's shoulder and slowly steered him back towards the lockers.

"Sit down, son."

Arthur swallowed loudly and he sat down.

Lex tried to control his excitement as he exchanged glances with Cole. They both knew what they had to do. What they wanted to do. They sat down on either side of Arty, trapping him. Lex took a deep breath and inhaled Cole's nutty scent. His own mixed with the aroma.

With the two of them so close to young man, Arty was helpless. He was already sweating profusely and swaying from one side to the other, eyelids getting heavy. The young man took one swallow, his Adam's Apple pushing out against his skin.

"What's your name, son?" Cole asked calmly.

It took a moment for Arty to reply. "Arthur," he answered, his voice an octave deeper. His breathing grew rapid. Slowly, his shoulders began to push against Lex's as the scrawny frame began to fill out. Veins crawled out from under the sleeves of Arthur's blazer, creeping onto his hands which were pulling further and further away from the cuffs of his shirt. His forearms began to strain against the cloth just like the top button of his collar's shirt.

He wiped the back of his neck with thick, meaty fingers.

"Arthur," Cole began, "what you saw here... How does it make you feel?"

Another pause.

"I... I don't know..." Arthur muttered softly. He was playing with his black shoes. Lex smirked slightly as he watched toes strain against the fabric of the shoe. "I'm... I'm not feeling very well..."

"Let me ask you one more thing, son."

Arthur took a deep breath. His shirt rode up against a set of powerful, chiselled abs. "Okay..."

"Does this make you feel good?"

Before the young man could reply, Cole leaned forward and planted his lips against Arthur's.

Rrrrip!

In response... a thick, golden blonde tail erupted from Arthur's rear, wagging excitedly.

Yeah, Lex loved this school.

Lesson Six: If You're Sick, Stay Home

Nicholas wasn't sure how or why but when he next woke up, he found himself in his bed.

His muscles ached all over and he groaned softly as he tried to move. All his effort was spent trying to roll off his bed... and he just ended up face flat on the floor with a loud whump. That certainly woke him up. As he tried to push himself to his feet, he caught sight of something hiding underneath his bed.

Lex Peterman's jockstrap.

Something just... clicked inside of him and he snatched the jockstrap and pressed it against his nose, taking a deep whiff of that musky, manly and heavenly scent. A shudder when throughout his whole body.

"Nicholas?"

Panic shot through him as he quickly shoved the jockstrap back under his bead before spinning to face his door. His father opened the door and poked his head in.

"You just missed Arty. He left a couple of minutes ago."

Arty was here?

And Nicholas had slept through it all?

"Um... I was just really tired from practise today..." he muttered.

"Arty seemed a little... frazzled. He said he'd call in a few minutes to check if you were alright." His father inclined his head to the side. "Funny thing... I think he was wearing one of your shirts." He shrugged. "Must've been my imagination. Anyway, we've got a guest downstairs. Come down when you're all cleaned up and greet him."

This day was getting weirder and weirder.

Nicholas told his father he would be back down as fast soon as he could shut the door. He picked out a fresh set of clothes and began dressing himself. A quick glance in the mirror told him that while Lex was a huge asshole out in school, he certainly knew his stuff. Nicholas was seeing a bit of fat trimmed down around his stomach and even a nice set of abs starting to come in.

As he finished dressing, his phone rang.

It was Arty.

"Arty!" he exclaimed, hitting the receive button. "Sorry I missed you! Practice must have been -"

"Keep the phone on."

The urgency in his best friend's voice chilled him. "What?"

"Just... Just listen, okay? It's too late for me... I... I think I figured something out. Something about Coach Steele and why people keep dropping out and why there are so many canines in Knothole High."

"What?" Nicholas laughed, lying down on his bed. "Dude, have you been sniffing turpentine again?"

"Just listen to me, okay!?"_he demanded. _"Coach Steele... All the canines there... I think... I think they emit some sort of... smell_that... That it makes you one of them. I... I caught Lex Peterman kissing this other_ older_guy in the pool change rooms today... Some army guy."_

Nicholas sat up suddenly. "Whoa! You serious? Lex is gay!?"

_Finally_some ammunition against the bully!

"You're not thinking, Nick! They're turning_people into canines and wolves!"_

Now he was back to being dubious and chuckling. "Okay..."

"Look, think about it. Guys like you or me start hanging out with jocks. They start going missing and acting weirdly. Then one day, they're just gone_. They_ almost immediately_get replaced by some big, muscular,_ canine jock_. Another of the jocks of Knothole High. Why you ask? Because the military is breeding supersoldiers! Knothole High is their recruiting grounds!"_

Nicholas laid back in his bed, trying hard not to laugh. "Arty..."

"I know you don't believe me. I know... I know it's hard... but... I'm going to prove it to you so you can tell the rest of the world."

Raising his eyebrows, Nicholas said, "Arty, what are you planning...?"

"I'm... I'm going to confront Coach Steele. He should still be at the school... I'm going to get him to tell me everything. You're going to be my witness."

"What? Arty -"

"Look. You don't remember anything yet. I figure the reason I woke up in your house naked_was because of something that... that Arnold did..."_

"Arnold? Who's Arnold?"

"He's me... He's who I'm turning into. Just... Just trust me on this okay? Don't hang up. Please?"

Nicholas sighed and glanced at the door. He didn't want to be rude to their guest but he also didn't want to ditch his friend. He figured that he'd give it fifteen to twenty minutes. After that, Arty should be satisfied and he could hang up with their friendship intact.

"Alright. I promise."

"Thanks man..."

Nicholas held the phone to his ear for what seemed like an eternity.

Then the knocks came.

"Come in."

That was definitely Coach Steele's baritone.

_"I know,"_Arty said ominously. He was always the dramatic type.

"Huh... and I've only got you pegged down for Stage 3... You must be very observant then, Arnold."

"Arty! My name is Arthur!"

"Have a seat, Arnold."

"You won't learn anything if you don't sit down."

Nicholas heard the shuffling of a seat and some rustling.

"Okay. Now talk."

Nicholas realised that Arty was actually ontosomething. He quietly scrambled for an old tape recorder he had in his shelf and switched it on. He pushed the volume on his phone up to its highest and listened.

"What would you like to know?"

"What the hell_is going on in this school!?"_

"Put simply? Reproduction."

"What?"

"We Steeles cannot reproduce as normal people would. We don't impregnate females. There has never_been a female Steele. Instead, what happens is that we excrete powerful pheromones that sexually arouse certain human males. These same pheromones start to reconstruct them from the inside, turning them into one of us. Their genes start to change, start to morph._

"In the initial stages, the transformation is only brief. But later on, the new canine is able to keep their form for longer. The transformation is also mental, not only physical. Slowly, the two personalities will merge. Memories of the human combined with the thought processes of the Steele."

Nicholas couldn't believe his ears. They were werewolves... who transformed through pheromones...

"The side effect, of course,"_Coach Steele continued, _"is that in the mid stages, the still-dominant human will start to retain memories of the transformation. Such as yourself, Arnold. Though... You are_still in Stage 3..."_

He could hear Arty's heavy breathing. He supposed that the poor guy was really nervous now. Was Steele going to kill him afterwards? Should Nicholas call the police?

"What the fuck_is Stage 3?"_ Arty snarled, his voice low and threatening.

"We call it 'Recollection', Arnold. The stage where the inductee remembers everything up to the point of their transformation. Sometimes, they remember their actions afterwards. It varies from person to person."

An odd sound filled his ears... It was like... stretching fabric?

"What are the stages then?"

"The first stage is merely 'Induction'. An initial transformation. No longer than an hour or so. No recollection whatsoever. The host experiences it as a blackout."

Nicholas' heart froze for a brief instant.

A blackout?

He had a blackout.

Two in fact.

"The second stage is 'Development'. The new Steele will be able to hold their form for longer. In effect, they will have all the properties of a Steele. When they revert however, usually after several hours, they will remember brief flashes and have slight personality changes."

Nicholas glanced under his bed...

... at Lex Peterman's jockstrap.

He hated it... and was disgusted by it at first...

Then... He almost revered it.

"You're at the third stage now, Recollection, Arnold."

Someone moaned...

Was that... Was that Arty? But... he sounded much deeper more... manly.

"And the fourth stage is very interesting. We call it 'Response'. It's when the subject starts to transform merely through a simple word. Most of the time, it's the new Steele's name. Isn't that right, Arnold?"

Nicholas' heart jumped to his throat.

Arty moaned again. This time, there was definitive ripping and the wet slapping of someone seizing their cock and masturbating.

"N - N - No... Fuck!"_Arty moaned. _"S - S - Stop... Please..."

"I'll give you one last tip before this ends,"_Coach Steele said. _"The fifth stage... It's Acceptance. You love the change. You crave_it. You want it. You'll do anything to get there. Conscious or subconscious, you'll be driven to take that final step over to becoming a Steele. You_ want_your dick to become thick, pointed and have a hot, fucking_ knot_. You get that, when you cross over fully. You may think your resisting but in actual fact..."_

Arty gave a cry of frustration, a thunderous roar that belonged to someone else.

"... you're already one of us. Aren't you... Arnold?"

A loud, primal cry ripped from the other side of the phone. "Oh fuck!"

Nicholas hit the 'end call' button and nearly dropped his phone. His mind swam with possibilities and questions. Was this all some elaborate prank set up by Arty? Was it real? It couldn't be real. It was just... too bizarre.

But he couldn't deny his own experiences...

At the very least, he had to go check on Arty.

He jumped off his bed and quickly scrambled to grab his coat from his closet. Asking his dad to drive him all the way to school at five in the afternoon would indeed be strange but he trusted his father.

"Dad," he cried, entering the lounge room. "I need -"

His voice died in his throat.

"Fuck..." Manfred Weisman moaned. His huge, muscular chest was bare, copper and black fur covering every inch of his flesh save for his face. His nose had turned black and leathery while his ears were slowly riding up to the top of his skull. Huge, veined paws gripped the back of Lex Peterman's head as a thick, 14 inch cock slipped in and out of the pitbull's muzzle.

Manfred gave his son a lust-filled, sidewards grin. "Oh hun... You were right about this kid... He's fucking awesome." As he spoke, his face stretched forward, forming a distinct muzzle. A long, pink, flat tongue dropped over sharpened fangs, flapping away with his heavy pants. "Oh fuck..."

Nicholas staggered back, eyes wide in horror.

It was true...

What Arty said... it was true!

And Lex was turning his dad!

He had to get away!

Wham!

His back slammed hard against a wall of muscle.

He spun around...

And caught a thick, heavy breath of male musk.

A towering German Shepherd, possibly over eight feet tall, rose in front of him. His build was slimmer than Manfred's but his body was still lean and muscular. Thick pectorals bounced with his heavy breaths as sweat gleamed all over his body, adding a sheen to the cut edges of his abdominals. Long, sinewy arms wrapped around Nicholas, pulling him tightly against his chest while a thick, throbbing cock poked his chin.

"Fuck daddy..." the towering canine moaned. "I need you so bad right now..."

Nicholas tried to pull away but his legs suddenly seized up. His thighs rubbed hard against the fabric of his jeans as his cock strained to form a visible tent. This time, he could feel the changes seeping through him. His skin felt so tight against his frame and his veins pushed his nerves against his stretching muscles.

With every beat of his heart, his muscles gave a twitch and a quiver of joy as they bulged and grew. Every layer thickened, widening, lengthening and strengthening. His legs gave out from underneath him but the titanic German Shepherd caught him. A cry of panic ripped through his vocal chords, deepening with every note that slipped from his lips. His feet burst from their socks, sending cloth in all directions. It felt like he had been standing on his feet all day and only now was he getting some relief.

He wiggled his toes, feeling them stretched and brush against one another. His sole brushed against the floor, coarse, leathery pads sliding against the floorboards.

"Daddy... Shit..." the German Shepherd holding him moan. "I'm just so fucking horny...:"

Despite the significantly deepening tone, Nicholas recognised the canine. Not from the voice... No... Something... about the scent. He took a whiff just to make sure... It was heady, slightly sweet and had this strong hint of cinnamon.

"Charlie..." he gasped.

"Chuck..." Manfred moaned softly. "Help me with your father, would you?"

Strong paws wrapped around Nicholas' pants. Nicholas tried to kick the canines away but those same paws seized his ankles. The hot touch of those paws sent a volcanic spasm through his entire lower body.

Rrrrrip!

Thick, veined thighs erupted from underneath his denim pants, his pulsing 14 inch member springing free of his underwear and slapping against his chest. His shirt ripped right down the middle, revealing plump pectorals and a scrumptious set of abdominal muscles.

"No!" Nicholas cried. "Get away from me!"

Manfred caught his son in a tight embrace, throbbing cock slipping over the small of Nicholas' back.

"Don't fight it, hun... I love you..."

Lesson Seven: Make sure to check your team often.

Nicholas woke up with a cry.

Sweat rolled off his brow as his alarm blared beside him. He silenced it with a heavy whack and pulled his hand back, frightened at the thick, pulsing veins that criss-crossed the back of his hand. His other hand was pressed against his chest, trying to calm his rapidly beating heart. Heartbeats, however, were dulled by the thick pectorals that covered his bare chest.

"Oh shit..." he muttered, becoming aware of the wet spot rapidly growing where his sheets were tented.

He remembered it all.

Remembered everything that had happened.

He remembered Cole West... the tough but affectionate military canine and his mate, Max West. His mate and their son... Chuck... Nicholas felt a pit of disgust bubble up in his stomach and at the same time, a lustful longing buried itself deep in his heart.

Nicholas tried shutting his eyes to block out the memories but that only made things worse. His mind swam with scents, sounds and sensations. He remembered his cock buried deep inside Lex Peterman, spurned on every time Lex begged him for more... calling him 'Sir'. Behind him, his mate's cock was sliding in and out of his ass, his tail wagging in excitement as his tongue sloshed deep inside his son's muzzle. Hot, expert paws tweaked his bare, erect nipples, sending hot waves of passion throughout his whole body. One paw was wrapped tightly around Lex's cock and the other around his son's.

"Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!"

Then he remembered Arty...

He snatched up his phone and hit Arty's number.

It rang...

But no response.

He dialled two more times.

Still nothing.

Fear gripped his chest but he decided to give it some time. Maybe... Maybe Arty wasn't so far gone. He was supposed to be in Stage 3 right?

But... what happened in the Coach's office... It was Stage 4.

Did that mean he was now in the 'Acceptance' stage?

Nicholas shook the thoughts from his head. First thing was first. He had to make sure his family was alright. He bolted out of his bed, threw on the closest piece of underwear he could find and hurried out of his room.

"Dad!? Charlie?"

No response.

He ran down the hallway and reached Charlie's room, banging on the door. "Charlie? You in there?"

"Go away!" came the tearful reply from inside. "I don't... I don't want to talk to you!"

At least his voice was still the same preteen tenor that was on the verge of breaking. Nicholas took relief in that and spun to bang on the door of his father.

"Dad?"

...

"Dad!?"

A sob.

Okay... He was in there.

Before Nicholas could push further, the phone in his hand rang.

Arty.

His throat closed up as he hit the receive button and brought the phone to his ear.

"Nick... I... I don't know how... but I'm still me... Steele might've been wrong... But... Quick, start a video chat. I need to speak to you..."

"You got it," Nicholas answered, relief washing throughout his entire system.

He hurried back to his room, jumped onto his laptop and started a video call with an awaiting Arty. When the image of his best friend came up, he could hardly recognise him. Arty was no longer skinny. His frame was bulked up, his chest broad and impressive. Cords ran up his neck and veins popped out of his forearms.

"Arty..."

"I know... I know..."_Arty murmured. _"Tell me you got it all on tape..."

"I did."

"Good... No one is going to believe you... I know that much. I... I don't know if the authorities will do anything about it. If it's the government doing this... fuck... we're screwed. The only hope is to get the fuck_out of this town."_

Nicholas nodded firmly. "Okay. What's the plan?"

"Take your dad and brother. Get out of here."

"What about you?"

Arty gave him a wry smile, straightening and flexing a bicep. The muscle was almost as big as his head! "Look at me, man... I'm fucking ripped_."_ He grunted and massaged his temples. "Shit... He's almost out... I'm screwed, Nick... I'm fucking screwed_. Shit... and my old man... He's further in than I am. I think... I think it started when Coach Steele came to 'visit' him..."_

Nicholas' eyes widened. "He...?"

That's right... Coach Steele visited his father earlier in the week... The head honcho of the conspiracy... the guy with the strongest pheromones!

"Fuck..." he swore.

"I know... I know... Just... get out of here Nick... Just... get out..."

"I'm not leaving without you!"

Arty slammed his laptop with a fist, shaking the video. "Just fucking go_, man! Do you wanna end up like Lex!?"_

Nicholas asked himself that same question... He absently scratched at his crotch, feeling an unfamiliar fabric brushing against his balls. When he glanced down, he saw the words 'Property of Alexander Peterman' staring back up at him. The jockstrap felt unusually comfortable against his package. Unfamiliar but comfortable.

"I..."

A soft ringing emanated from the other side of the call.

"Hang on. Someone's calling me." Arty picked up the phone. "Hello."

Then his eyes went wide.

"No...!" he moaned, arching his back.

Right before Nicholas' eyes, Arty's belly firmed up, fat seemingly just bubbling away and a fine set of abs appearing.

"Arty!"

_"S - s -stop!"_Arty begged but at the same time, he reached down his pants and whipped out his hard, throbbing cock. Precum flew by the screen and all Nicholas could do was watch. Arty's biceps pressed up against his flesh as thick, golden blonde fur began sprouting all over his body, finding the curves of his developing muscles in just the right way to accentuate them instead of hide them.

"D - Don't say it...!" Arty cried then he threw back his head.

The video suddenly went awry as Nicholas heard the heavy sound of clattering. He was suddenly staring at the side of Arty's bed on an odd angle.

"Arty!"

"My name isn't Arnold!"_Arty cried, his voice a loud, rumbling baritone."It's Arnold! No! I mean... Aw fuck!"_

The sound of cloth shredding to pieces filled Nicholas' ears and he could hear his best friend struggling with a mix of pleasure and pain. Wet, slapping sounds accompanied by the half-cries and half-moans. Amongst it all was the tearing and building of flesh, bone and muscle.

"Arnold! Don't make me fucking say it again! My name is Arnold!Not Arthur!"

"Shiiiit! FUCK! NICK! R - R - Run - "

A tremendous roar shook Nicholas to the core.

The screen abruptly went white.

"Arty..." Nicholas whispered.

He was about shut off the video, his hands quivering with loss and shock. If ever he needed confirmation of the conspiracy, this was it. It frightened him that he was rock hard and some part of him yearned to have seen Arty's transformation into Arnold.

Just as his cursor hovered over the 'end call' button, a thick, pink... something washed across the screen, pushing the whiteness away.

Nicholas' jaw dropped when the laptop was lifted off the ground, passing a thick, muscular chest covered in golden fur. It was settled on the lap in full view of a fine set of chiselled abs... and a fully erect canine cock.

"Sorry about that, man,"_Arnold laughed, adjusting the laptop so that Nicholas could see the Labrador's broad, cheery features. The muscular canine stretched, showing off his corded arms and swimmer's build. _"Fuck man... I just came all over my room and I'm still_fucking horny."_

He winked at Nicholas with his cute, black button eyes. "Whaddya say, sir? Feel like helping a dog out?"

Something stirred in Nicholas.

He remembered...

Stage 4.

"No!" Nicholas cried, pushing his laptop away. "Don't -"

"Oh come on, Cole. We've know each other for years now. Ain't nothing between a couple of best buds, right?"

His stomach clenched abruptly and unclenched the instant later. He fell back against his pillows, staring at his belly in awe. Four rows of chiselled abdominals stare back up at him, gleaming with sweat. Small, brown hairs began to grow out of his pink skin, growing in between each of the perfectly shaped valleys.

"No... No...!"

"What's wrong, Cole? You know_you love it."_

Nicholas' back twisted painfully, his spine stretched. His legs felt like someone had injected raw, liquid muscle and bone into his veins and they were quickly solidifying, pushing his thighs out and adding more and more mass to his bones. His already hard cock pumped with more blood, pressure building in his balls he yearned for release. The monster of a dick strained against Lex's jockstrap. Out of frustration, he tore the piece of underwear off and tossed it aside.

He fought it back... as much as he could...

"Fuck, Cole, you got a fucking_hot cock right there."_

Nicholas gnashed his teeth together and bunched up his muscles, trying to keep them from expanding. Like a rubber band reaching its limits, his limbs snapped out and twitched. His biceps flexed and relaxed rapidly, constantly growing bigger and bigger. Broader shoulders grew rounded, defined and capable of carrying heavy crates or fallen comrades through a battlefield.

His nipples pushed out of the thick patch of fur that spread out from his entire body, becoming large, pink, fully erect targets in a forest of brown and black.

"Oooooh shit!" he cried, thrusting his hips into the air. A long, fluffy tail burst from underneath him, wagging in tandem with his rapid heartbeat.

"Stop... Please stop..." he begged. "Arty..."

"Oh... Hey dad."

Nicholas blinked, relief suddenly washing over him. He dared a glance at the screen... and instantly regretted it.

A second, equally as muscular Labrador stepped into view, wrapping huge, corded arms around Arnold. They looked almost like twins but the second Labrador was bigger. Only by a little though. His thick canine cock was dripping with precum.

"Hey son..."_The Labrador's eyes flicked towards Nicholas. _"Hey Cole."

Nicholas grunted, sharp, black claws jutting out of the tips of his fingers as brown fur consumed them completely. Tiny pins seemed to tug at the tips of his ears, dragging them up to the top of his head. At the same time, he could feel those same pins pulling at his cheeks, dragging his face forward.

"Shit dad... We should get together some time,"_Arnold laughed. _"Would love to have the whole West clan with us under the same roof."

"Good idea, son. But right now..."_Arnold's father pulled his son's chin towards him. _"You're all mine."

Their muzzles met.

"FUCK!"

Cole arched his back, cum spraying out of his cock with enough force to splatter against the ceiling. The thick, seemingly never-ending stream sent shockwaves throughout his entire body. He fought for focus, trying to keep himself stable. His claws dug deep into the mattress. His hips bucked, sending a splatter of his semen against his muzzle.

A half-dazed grin crossed his features as he licked up the salty nectar.

"Hey Cole," Arnold began, a grin on his features. A grin his father was more than eager to claim for himself. "Why don't you get your son and mate into the chat?"

Cole grinned broadly. "Fuck that. We're coming over."

Lesson Eight: Never Run from a Fight

The last bag went into the trunk.

It frightened Nicholas just how easily he could lift the heavy bags. His muscles strained against his shirt, thick veins pumping blood into his arms. For a second, he admired the blue network they made against his skin, running a hand over them. He shook the thought out of his head and jumped into the passenger seat of their car.

In the back, Charlie crouched wearing one of Nicholas' shorts. All his clothes were too short for him now. He looked to be just about fourteen years of age while Nick felt more of a man. Firm, lean muscle already covered Charlie's body and the confused young man sat in the back of the car, knees up to his chin and staring down at the floor absently.

"You ready for this?" Manfred Weisman asked, sliding into driver's seat.

Nicholas nodded. He opened the glove compartment where his father's handgun rested. "Yeah... I'm ready..."

Manfred hit the accelerator.

Nicholas tried to calm his breathing, trying to keep himself from thinking about the different scents that flooded his consciousness. His father's scent was just so... so perfect and alluring. Charlie's... God, it turned him on so much.

He kept thinking about what he was about to do...

"We're going to end this..." he murmured.

His father's hand rested on his, squeezing it tightly. "We are... Just... stay strong, okay?"

His nod was firm... but still very wary... and nervous.

Knothole High came into view with all the students already clamouring to head to their classes. Nicholas noted the dwindling number of humans and took comfort in knowing that he would save them at least. Arty had the right idea. They were damned... but at the very least, he could save everyone else.

Once his father parked the car, he picked up the gun and tucked it under his shirt.

"Stay here, Charlie," he said, glancing over his shoulder.

Charlie nodded slowly. "Okay..."

Exchanging glances with his father, Nicholas nodded. They left the car and cut their way through the crowds, making straight for the office. No one gave them a second glance. Once, Nick thought he saw a golden Labrador and felt his heart seize up at the thought of having lost Arnold - no, Arty. He wondered if his plan would work at all...

But, he had to do this.

For everyone else that was still human.

They entered the school office where his father approached the secretary on duty. There were a few pieces of paperwork to sign, such as the transfer papers. If anyone was going to come looking for them, a false trail would help. It took longer than expected to actually get the papers signed and ready but it would take days for it to be processed.

Regardless, they tried.

As long as they left some indication of where they were going, the police would be looking there.

That done, Nicholas got up, made sure the gun was still safely tucked away, and headed for the gymnasium with his father in tow. This early in the morning, the gym was empty. He closed in on Coach Steele's office, the glass walls bordering the door covered by blinds. With his father behind him, they approached the red door, exchanged quickly glances and then -

BAM!

His heart jumped into his throat once more.

Coach Steele was nowhere to be found.

Instead... There was Lex Peterman, cock buried deep into the furry ass of a tall, muscular German Shepherd... One that Nicholas knew all too well.

"Oh fuck daddy..." Chuck moaned, arching his back. "You came... urgh... in time... Fuck... Harder, Lex... harder!"

Rage boiled up in Nicholas' chest. He threw aside the gun and charged straight at Lex. The frustration of being bullied for so long, the anger at what Lex had started and the knowledge that he was about to lose himself all reached breaking point.

"Get the fuck off my son!"

"Nick!" Manfred cried but it was too late.

Nicholas charged at Lex, tore him boldly off Chuck and slammed the pitbull against the wall.

"What're you gonna do to me?" Lex asked, not a hint of remorse of on his face.

The canine's smirk was his breaking limit.

Nicholas smacked Lex...

... with his lips.

His tongue drove down into the canine's muzzle, his hands reaching around behind the pitbull's neck, pulling the bully close into his muzzle as their tongues danced over once another. That thick, musky scent from the pitbull permeated his every pore, encouraging the seeds of fur there to slip out and greet the air.

He pulled away, feeling every muscle on his body quivering in excitement, tearing the fabric of his already tightening shirt.

"That's 'sir' to you, kid."

He slammed the pitbull into the wall, his muscles rubbing against the pitbull's bare fur. His shirt tore right down the middle and the canine's expert paws slipped the ragged remains off his shoulders. Nicholas ground his groin against the throbbing, precum-dripping member of his former bully, loving the touch of that warm liquid against his chiselled abs.

"Awww fuck..." he groaned, pulling at arm back and flexing it. He watched as the veins crawled out from his shoulder, over the mound of his bicep and criss-crossing over his forearms. Each muscle became highly defined, bulging against his flesh until they were covered in short, brown or black fur.

Soft lips touched his neck. The scent was of his mate's.

"I need you so badly..." Max West moaned.

Nicholas spread his legs wide, lifting his tail as it sprang out.

Needing no further encouragement, his mate pressed a throbbing piece of meat into his ass. Nick moaned, his voice quivering with every note as it dropped deeper and deeper, his neck thickening. Max's developing fangs nibbled on a spot on his meaty shoulder, sending waves of pleasure all throughout his body and kicking in some primal, mateship instinct.

A pulsing cock pressed up against the borders of his ass, making him whimper and moan. He gasped when that first inch pushed into him, molten precum bursting straight into his ass. Nicholas pushed himself back, greedily sucking in more of that cock into him. Max's thrusts were soft, gentle and loving, his strong arms wrapping around Nick's chest as they grew into big, bulging vices that would forever protect his mate.

With every thrust, Nick's whole body gave a jolt of joy. His cock would jerk upwards another half-inch or so, gaining girth with thick veins pulsing around its surface. His thighs became so thick that even his widened stance caused them to rub against another, forming a stable foundation for his baseball sized balls to bounce against with each thrust of his mate.

He grinned down Lex who now looked up at him with a lustful stare.

"Drop and give me your ass, soldier," Nicholas growled.

Lex smirked and gave him a mock salute. "Yessir."

The pitbull slipped to the side, dropped down on his paws and knees and offered his ass up to Nicholas. Grinning broadly, Nicholas seized the pitbull's waist and with all his strength, hauled the massive wrestler off the ground and impaled him on his dick. The three of them collapsed to the ground in a heap.

Lex gave a mixed cry of pleasure and pain as he took all of Nicholas' thick, fourteen-inch cock all at once.

What anger Nicholas felt all melted away into lust as he pounded the canine's ass hard.

The sound of a paw running up and down a long cock made him turn towards Coach Steele's table where his son, Chuck West, sat, fourteen inch cock in one paw.

"Come here, son..." he urged. "Take your boyfriend's cock. We're all family now."

Chuck grinned and dropped down to the ground where the whole family lay. The younger German Shepherd wiggled his cute, bubble butt onto Lex's cock.

Max thrust his hips forward...

Driving Cole's cock deeper into Lex...

... and thus pushing Lex straight into Chuck.

All four let out a cry of pleasure in tandem.

Cole hugged Lex tightly as his whole body reached the apex of his transformation. He felt his face twist and change, his ears riding up to the top of his head, his face obtaining the trademark canine features. With every pant, his tongue lengthened, his teeth becoming sharp instruments for tearing and rending.

His thick, military-grade muscles clenched tightly, squeezing hard on his mate's cock. Huge, thighs curled around Lex's legs, pulling the pitbull closer to him, tightening the man-train all the more.

A strange tingling sensation ran down the length of his cock. With every thrust, he felt the tip of his cock being pulled further and further forward. It was starting to jab Lex's innards with a pointed top. The pressure building all over his body began to congregate at the base of his cock, building a thick, bulbous knot that he was desperately trying to squeeze into Lex's ass.

At the same time, he felt Max's canine cock pushing up against his prostate, squeezing more and more thickening precum out of his balls. His mate's knot was just on the verge of entrance...

... he wanted it so bad!

"Fuck... fuck... fuck!" he grunted.

He thrust his hips... "Fuck..."

His balls churned... "Oh...Fuck..."

His whole body tensed. "... Fuuuuuuuck..."

His cock seized up. "Aw -"

Max slammed his knot into him.

... and his cock exploded in a rush of cum!

"FUUUUUUUCKING HELL!!!"

He felt a hot rush of semen burst out of his mate's cock, flooding into his ass and filling him with glorious, molten seed. His own load poured into Lex's ass, pumping out twice... three times... four... five... six!

Cum began spilling out of Lex's ass, running down between his legs to join the cum that was seeping out of Chuck's. Male, canine seed began pooling in all around them, soaking into their fur as their cocks continued to pour more and more of their former lives out of their bodies.

Cole... Cole grunted once more as the most powerful blast yet sent Lex jerking forward slightly, slipping off his dick. Semen sprayed everywhere, splashing Lex's back, running all over Cole's chest and even reaching Chuck.

Cole West... grinned...

"Fuck... We should do this again sometime."

"Preferably not in my office."

The four canines looked towards the door.

Coach Steele stood at the doorway, looking somewhat disappointed but there was no denying the big tent in his pants.

Cole exchanged glances with his new family... then looked up at Steele.

"Wanna join in, Coach?" he asked, seizing his still erect cock.

Steele took a moment to think about it... then shrugged. "Since it's already a mess..."

Lesson Nine: You never know until you try

Cole West parked his car in front of Knothole High, his dogtags dangling between the enormous valley of his pectoral muscles. His army green singlet hide nothing of his powerful frame from his broad, meaty shoulders, his thick, watermelon sized biceps and even to the washboard eight-pack that pressed up against the fabric. His camouflage pants were a little more deceiving.

But not by much.

The German Shepherd leaned over his shoulder, regarding Chuck who was struggling to shove his sports equipment into his bag.

"You ready for your first day of school, son?" Max asked. Cole's mate sat in the passenger's seat, a little smaller in terms of size than Cole but devilishly handsome with his goatee.

Chuck looked up at his two fathers a little worriedly. "I don't know... I mean, what if the other guys bully me about having two dads...?"

Cole exchanged glances with his mate. "You're worried about having two dads and not about the fact that you have a boyfriend?"

"Um... Yeah?"

Cole unbuckled his seatbelt and patted his son's shoulder. "Look, Lex will always be there for you, okay? And if not, there's always Steele. They'll keep you safe."

"And besides," Max added with a grin. "If anyone teases you, just do what we always do."

"Fuck them silly?" Chuck asked, mirroring the grin.

"That's my boy."

Chuck grinned and leaned forward, giving both his father's a peck on the cheek before leaping out of the car. "I'll see you tonight!"

"Don't forget!" Cole shouted, waving at his son. "Arnold and his father are coming over!"

"I won't!"

And with those words, Chuck West was off, running for his first day of school. At the steps of Knothole High, he met a large, burly pitbull who tossed a basketball at him. The towering eight foot German Shepherd was built for that particular ball.

Cole smiled and leaned back in his seat. "There goes our son."

"I know, right?" Max chuckled. "Just in time for the prom."