by Starwing » Thu Mar 20, 2014 3:35 pm
(Well here is my entry, figured I'd post it here. It's written in a journal setting like a Frat boy would write, so the grammar is intentionally bad.)
Fuck if I remember what day it is, we’ll just call this entry one.
Not sure what I’m doing with this, but Nick said that keeping a journal would help. So here goes. It’s been over two weeks since the infection took over the city. We had managed to lock ourselves into the Phi Alpha Nu frat house when it happened. There were 21 of us in all, and the supplies we had bought for our upcoming camping trip lasted for a while, but they weren’t infinite. When they started running low, Jack, our frat president, took some of the guys on an excursion into the city to gather supplies. They didn’t all make it back.
Jack and four of the guys were going to a tractor supply store to get a water tank. I had asked Jack to stay behind and let me go instead but he wouldn’t listen. We had run out of alcohol a few days prior and it was starting to affect him. But he wouldn’t listen to me and I knew that he was also planning on trying to find some kind of booze. Beats me why I finally gave in but I did. Can’t believe I did that, especially since I knew things would not end well.
Hours after the five of them left, three came back, clutching a water tank for dear life. Tony and Eric were a wreck, eyes all puffy and cheeks damp with tears. George looked rather roughed up, with a black eye and a large bruise on his arm, visible even through his extremely dark skin tone. But neither Jack nor the fifth guy, Joe, were with them. After getting the guys and the tank inside, they told us what had happened. Apparently on their way back across the campus, some creatures had seen them: two naked furry-legged ”men” who were pushing around a large wooden barrel. The two stopped and looked to the group, and Jack quickly sent the others into hiding, but the pair simply offered them all – in what sounded like a friendly, unthreatening manner – a drink. Jack signaled to the others to sit still while he talked to the two strangers, to see if they weren’t insane like all the other monsters we had seen roaming around. The pair explained that the barrel was full of wine for a big party, and to the guys listening from their hiding spot, it seemed like perhaps they maybe had found some potential aid. Until Jack suddenly started yelling out for them to run, that it was a trap and they needed to get out of there as fast as possible! The group had taken off as fast as they could, but the shouting and their sudden scramble had attracted the attention of a large man, twisted with the features of a Siberian husky, who appeared out of nowhere and jumped them. Tony and Eric bolted while George and Joe fought the husky-man. George put up a decent fight but the husky-man still managed to get away, dragging off poor Joe, unconscious. George wanted to go after him, and also go back for Jack, but when he saw more creatures coming out of the woodwork, he fled with Tony and Eric.
We listened to their story, and we tried to console them, while fighting back the urge to break down into tears ourselves. We didn’t all manage. The stress was starting to get to us. A shouting match started between Hank and George about leaving without getting our brothers back. Before it escalated further, I stepped in and pushed Hank onto the couch, scolding him for blaming the guys, reasoning that they wouldn’t have left if there was anything they could have done. He made to get up, fists clenched, but stopped when Nick, a small guy, gently grabbed his arms and whispered something to him while trying not to look at me. Whatever he said apparently worked and Hank conceded, storming off upstairs. I left the others and went downstairs to beat on the punching bag, working off my own anger in a less destructive way. A short time later, Nick came down to apologize for his boyfriend, and that’s when he offered me this journal. He knew me and Jack had been friends since we were little, and that I was on the verge of a breakdown after everything that happened.
That Nick… I’ve always given the squirt a hard time about being so flaming, never with any seriousness. Dude is cool and has helped us all a lot these past several days. And I guess he was right, I do feel a little better after writing this shit down.
Entry 2 (wish I knew what day it was)
We managed to get the tank installed down in the basement. Harry rigged up a sort of a hand pump to pull the water out of the pipes. Most of us didn’t think it would work, but he kept insisting that even though there was no pressure in the pipes, there should still be water. Turns out he was right and we managed to pull out several gallons to put in the tank before nothing else came out. The water was mostly clean, and we did the best we could to filter it through some shirts and boiled it before putting it in the tank. It barely filled a quarter of the thing, which made us happy that the thing could hold a lot more but worried us that we had gotten so little. We would have to go out to get more eventually, and our food supply was also running out as well.
I didn’t bring it up with the guys, as the last thing they would want to hear is that we needed to go back out into the hell our campus had become. Though I knew George was itching to get back out to find the beast that had taken Joe. He felt responsible, felt that he hadn’t been strong enough to help and he had been lifting weights almost constantly since. I worried that he was going to hurt himself and actually locked the weights up after a while to force him to take a break. He wasn’t happy with that, but didn’t argue with me.
I hate being in charge. Jack had always been the one to do so and I had just always been there to help him. I’d always been his right hand man, and he’d even made sure that I got vice pres. Now everyone is turning to me and I hate it. I wish I could get someone else to do it, but none of the guys could cut it. Nick would be my first choice; always level-headed and good at resolving issues. But he’s too soft-spoken and timid to take charge. Hank and George don’t even make the list. Both are too hot-headed and aggressive. Barney might make a good choice, if he wasn’t so bad at working under pressure. No, it’s best that I suck it up and continue to take charge, shitty as that is. But if we’re going to have any chance of getting out of here alive, I have no choice.
I hope you’re still alive out there Jack.
Entry 3 (three days since my last entry)
I had finally been forced to get a group together to go out for supplies. George of course was the first to volunteer, and I made him the leader. Hank offered too, but he was quickly shot down; the guy was big, having been a defensive lineman, but he was slow and wouldn’t be able to outrun anything should it give chase. Leonard and Jerry agreed to go out, and they managed to get Casey to join them. All were springy and wiry, and Casey even knew how to sword fight (something we used to tease him about, but now we’re thankful for such an odd skill!). They were about to start out, but stopped when they opened the front door. There on the porch was a large pile of military MRE’s and a small, full water cooler tank. We quickly shut the door, leaving the supplies outside, and several of the guys rushed to the windows to check the perimeter. Casey rushed upstairs to check the roof, but nothing. We couldn’t see anyone out there. It seemed too much like a set up, but we needed the supplies… so George stood guard while Jerry ran out and hastily threw everything inside as fast as he could. No monsters jumped out at them; in fact there didn’t seem to be anything in the area.
Everyone safely inside, Kris carefully looked over the MRE’s, looking for any sign that they had been tampered with. After studying them for nearly half an hour he looked up to me with a confused look and said they were fine. Opening up a few of them, the inner packages were all sealed tightly, even the little packs of hot sauce still had their plastic wrappers on them. The water tank also seemed to be untouched, save for a little mud on the side. We all sighed in relief and cheered a bit as the food packs were handed out. We still boiled the water just in case, but it still made us all feel better to have something in our bellies and a little water to add to our reserves. Harry suggested that we empty the new tank into our larger one so we could use it to go get more.
I had been content to put off the salvaging for another day, but George insisted they still go, saying now that they had had something to eat, it increased their chances of success and best to do it now instead of waiting for them to be hungry again. I was reluctant, but I agreed and let the four go out.
I hope I’m not making a mistake with this.
Entry 4 (same day as the last one)
The guys came back, a little green but unharmed. They said they found the remains of a group of soldiers. Several had been torn apart by something, and whatever had done so apparently hadn’t bothered with their supplies. Unfortunately other creatures had already raided them before our guys had found the scene, including a fox-man that was still searching through the packs when our guys showed up. George jumped the thing, which he described as being “rubbery”, beating it until --and I still don’t quite believe him-- it “deflated” and lay motionless on the street. There wasn’t anything useful left in the way of supplies, but they took one of the military backpacks that wasn’t covered in blood or… other fluids. It proved useful in carrying the water tank, which they were able to fill with water from the pipes in the campus theatre basement.
After the guys had welcomed the scavenging team back, Casey took me aside and whispered that he had found what looked to be hoof prints in the gore at the scene, prints that didn’t go near the bodies but seemed to be only near the bags and packs. He said he also saw similar ones in the mud outside the frat house. Casey thinks the supplies we were “gifted” with earlier came from the soldiers they found. I told him to keep quiet about it, don’t want the guys freaking out. He said that’s why he told me first. Dude just won some major points for potential leadership there.
But the news still worries me and I’m going to make it a point to get more guys on lookout.
Entry 5 (three days later)
While nowhere near the amount we got that first time, someone has been leaving stuff at our door: cans of food, military rations, bottles of water and juice, and even a couple cases of soda. It's almost like they’re making a point to give us stuff that is sealed tight. Not that I’m going to complain too much, it’s really been helping us out and the bottles make it easier to gather water on our trips out. Strange thing is that we never see them coming or going. And that’s making me worried. We don’t know who is doing this or why. What if they eventually come and demand payment? Will we be able to fight them off?
Or could it be another survivor that’s trying to help? I really hope it’s that one; it would really boost morale to know that someone else is out there. Someone who hasn’t become some kind of perverted monster.
Entry 6 (morning after the last)
Something horrible happened earlier. Something I wish hadn’t happened right in front of the house.
We had been alerted by some shots being fired in the street and all rushed to the windows to see what was going on. A soldier was running down the street occasionally turning around to fire at whatever was chasing him. He ran out of bullets and tried to ditch his gun when this large wolf-man wearing a wrestling mask and shorts came charging down the street, leapt with ease onto a car and then came crashing down on top of the soldier with a flying elbow drop. The creature laughed as it stood upright and lifted the dazed man with a single clawed hand. It stripped the soldier of his clothing and checked him out, making an overly dramatic show of shaking its head as it reviewed its prize. Then the beast reached down, released its monstrous member from its shorts and started to jack off, still holding the unconscious solider with its other hand. After a few minutes, the soldier started coming around and tried to break free of the wolf-man’s grip, but at that moment, the thing starting spasming and let loose a blast of jizz into the guy’s face. The helpless soldier tried to scream out for help but that just allowed the stuff to get into his mouth. He tried desperately to wipe it off, but after just seconds of contact with it, the effects were starting to show. Fur started spreading over his face, which was also pushing out into a muzzle. His chest pushed out into voluptuous breasts and his dick started to shrink. As his face showed a building lust, his shriveling penis appeared to sport a hardon before shrinking down into a wet pussy that almost immediately was the center of attention for the large wolf-man. It had only just blown its load but its dick was still hard and the beast wasted no time in claiming the new bitch as his own. The transformed soldier made no effort to fight the thing off this time, instead just pulling his/her attacker closer and moaning. We all stood there, watching in terror as the human male rapidly became some freak wolf bitch. After what could have been half an hour, they stopped bucking against each other and the wrestler beast carried off its new prize, still tied to her.
When the horrible scene was over, Barney ran off and threw up. Several of the guys sunk to the floor. We had heard this was happening, knew it was happening, but to actually watch it happen just brought home what waited for us out there. And what probably happened to Jack and Joe.
I vented my anger on the furniture in the basement and busted up my hand. And accidentally broke one of the boards covering a little window. I tried to fix it, but just ended up wedging the wood against the window lock. Hopefully it’ll hold until my hand stops throbbing long enough for me to repair it properly.
Entry 7 (the evening after my last one)
Had a really close call just now. Was heading down to fix the basement window when I heard a soft banging and scuffling below. I sprang down the steps to see a pair of fingers and an eye through the cracks in the wood covering the window. The eye went wide and I heard an “Oh shit!” before the lurker took off. I leapt over to the window and peeked outside, glimpsing only a hoof as the lurker rounded the bend and disappeared from sight. Guess I scared him off before he could break in. I checked the window and it was still jammed stuck where it had been yesterday. Probably what had kept the thing out until I got there. I secured the wood I had broken yesterday and checked the basement over just in case.
Nothing seemed out of place, though I did find Jack’s flask under the shelves next to the water tank. He used to carry it everywhere, and I had assumed he’d taken it with him on that final outing, but then, we’d been out of liquor so long, why bother? I guess he thought the same and just left it behind. I opened it and sniffed, thinking I could finally figure out what he kept in the thing, maybe even get a last tiny drop out of it. Holding it up and tilting my head back, I was surprised when a few drops of fluid splashed onto my tongue. The rich flavor hit me. Wine! (And not going to lie, never took Jack for a wine drinker.) Wasn’t much, but it felt good to get even that little bit, and was strong enough that it sent a tingle through me. If I ever see Jack again, I’ll force out of him what kind it is.
Probably not going to tell the guys about the window close encounter. Figure it’d be best not to freak them out.
Entry 8 (two days later)
There has been a lot of activity outside lately, making it so we’ve had to time our scavenging trips more carefully. But more of the guys have been volunteering to go out. The supplies are stilling showing up on our doorstep too, though they aren’t as plentiful as before. Wherever they are coming from, they must be running out.
We’ve seen more military activity, but never in a positive way. They were either running from packs of monsters, or being led, partially-transformed, to wherever the monsters took them, or slaughtering anything they came across. There were also some less violent creatures roaming about as well. A group of pig-like guys that sort of looked like the dudes over at Phi Iota Gamma wandered by, arms full of junk food, snorting happily. There was even this one guy who looked --no other way to say it really-- odd. He seemed to have several different parts on him: wolf head, husky tail, lion arms, and I think his legs were some kind of rubber?? The strangest part though… following right behind him was this large naked dude, really buff with dark purple skin and a huge dong hanging between his legs, even a frigging spaded tail hanging off his ass! He wasn’t wearing anything so it was all on display. The first guy seemed to be searching every little nook and cranny along their way, like he was searching for something. Thankfully he didn’t come our way; I didn’t want to risk dealing with any guy who had what was clearly some kind of demon following him around.
There’s been some activity inside as well. The guys seem to be cheering up a bit. Nick and Hank have even started making out in front of us again. I guess it's just because they felt safe enough to do so. This put a lot of us at ease for some odd reason, but truth be told, it has been a while since any of us had gotten off. The fact that there was a metric shit ton of sex happening outside probably doesn’t help matters. The guys are popping random boners and many trying to find hiding places where they could jack off in private. Might even have to deal with things myself here soon.
Probably shouldn’t have mentioned that in my journal.
Entry 9 (four days after)
Sorry about the long gap in entries. (Did I seriously just apologize to a book?) But we’ve been dealing with an odd issue that’s come up.
It’s starting to get hot. With the power out we’ve got no AC, but with those things outside, there’s no way in hell we’re opening a window. Several of the guys have started going around shirtless. Never noticed before how toned they were. All the lifting has certainly been helping George. This afternoon I even caught Mark lying on the couch in nothing but his boxers. I groaned, not particularly wanting to see the fabric cling to his sweaty body and clearly outline his junk, but I didn’t say anything to him. Still, it was a good idea to keep cool, and with how hairy he is, I don’t blame him for taking off as much as possible. Thing is, I don’t remember him being that hairy, especially his legs. Dude must have shaved before. Speaking of which, it’s clear that none of us has shaved in a while. I’ve got a bit of beard going on. Kind of like it, truth be told.
Crap. I can hear Nick and Hank going at it again. They’ve taken up the habit of fucking down here in one of the basement rooms. It’s cooler than the rest of the house, but the walls are thinner and you can hear everything. Not that I mind really, it’s been so long that listening to them is starting to turn me on. Man I hope someone sends help soon. Not sure how long I can keep up this no-pussy thing.
Entry 10 (later that evening)
The “odd” guy came back again. He’d changed a bit, now sporting a mostly lion body and a set of breasts but it was obvious it was the same guy, mostly ‘cause of the demon following him. It wasn’t as dark anymore, now a very light purple, but it was definitely still the same freak. Eric was on lookout duty at the time and had called me up to the second floor and pointed them out. They had been wandering around the campus green, but they weren’t the main reason I had been called up.
With them were three goat-legged guys loitering around a large wooden barrel. Two of them were facing us. Eric said he couldn’t be sure from that distance, but he thought that they were the same ones he had seen the day we lost Jack. The third had his back to us, giving us only a good view of his tail, which wiggled every so often.
The creatures talked with the odd guy for a while, but then they paused and two tilted the barrel to the side while the third filled a cup with the contents that poured out. He offered it to the odd guy, who hesitated but then took a deep swig. He tipped the whole thing back and licked his lips, and then a strange thing happened. (Heh, “strange”. That word has nearly lost all meaning at this point.) Anyway, after drinking the stuff, his face pulled in, changing from lupine features to a human-ish look, just with two goat-like horns sprouting from his temples. The large breasts on his chest reduced and disappeared, leaving him completely flat-chested. He looked over his new form, patting himself down, and gave a loud approving laugh as he and the demon walked off. The goat-men laughed too and went the other direction, and I saw the one who had been keeping his back to us peek over his shoulder at us as he helped his buddies push the barrel across the green.
Not sure what any of it meant, but I told Eric to keep quiet about it. At least until I could think about it. He hesitantly agreed, also not wanting to get the guys hopes up that Jack might be alive, and resumed keeping watch over the campus.
Not sure why I did it, but as I was leaving the room I looked back to check out Eric’s ass. He was bent over peering out through the boarded window, almost like he wanted me to get a good look. Had to be cabin fever or something, because it looked really good in his shorts. Kind of creeped out that I did it, but we’re both straight so there was no way I would have done anything, just acknowledging that he has a great ass. Yeah.
Entry 11 (another two days, is help ever coming?)
Things have gotten kind of weird in the house. More guys are willing to go out into the city, but they’ve been bringing back stuff that… doesn’t really pertain to survival. I’m not going to complain as I’ve really wanted a drink for a good while, especially these last few days, but the water supply is starting to get a little low and they seem more interested in raiding the liquor stores than finding more water. I’ll scold them later though, as for now their morale has really improved. I even had to tell the guys a couple times to keep it down when I caught them drinking and singing stupid pub songs.
And that isn’t all, I had to leave the basement during a workout session because I heard Hank and Nick going at it rather loudly in the next room. I went upstairs and was shocked to find them lounging on the couch together reading a book someone had brought back from a recent scavenge. When they saw my confused look they smiled and tried to hide behind the book. I was tempted to go back into the basement and find out who was down there, but decided against it. Libidos have been running extremely high lately, something that is annoyingly obvious at times. With the heat rising, many of us have taken to walking around in just our boxers, allowing the random boners that everyone seems to be constantly popping to show. I’ve often had to tell someone to either adjust themselves or go rub one out. Too many dongs hanging out ‘round here.
I’ve caught myself staring a couple times though. A few of the guys even seem to be doing it on purpose, like they’re trying to be caught showing off their junk. I’ll admit that I didn’t know the other guys were as hung as they are. I think I’ve even gotten a little--
I just finished examining myself in the bathroom and something’s definitely different. My dick is definitely bigger, my legs and chest are hairier and my beard is growing in weird. It seems to be staying light stubble on the cheeks, but my chin is growing this silky tuft that I can’t bring myself to not like. It looks so good and makes me feel so masculine. My ears have this weird little point to them and my feet feel weird. I didn’t really notice when it was that I started walking around barefoot, but now I can’t even remember where I put my shoes, although it hasn’t mattered since I never go out scavenging. None of the guys will let me, saying that I need to stay here and take care of things. The changes are not really that obvious but I hope the others haven’t noticed. Also, inside me now, I have a… I don’t even know how to describe it… kind of a mix between a voice in my head and a feeling, like a deep instinctual need. And more than just a normal college guy’s need. Like just now, after handling my dick, just looking it over, I REALLY wanted to either jack off or go down and get one of the guys to take care of it for me. It took a lot of willpower to take my hands off my dick and put my boxers back on. I even tried putting pants on, but before I could even walk out of the bathroom, I was sweating, overheating to the point I had to take them off.
Can’t tell the guys, it’ll just cause a panic since I’m pretty sure the same thing is happening to all of them. Going to try to figure out the source of these changes, maybe I can stop it. I think I’ll be writing more often; doing so is helping keep the need away, helping me to keep my humanity intact.
Entry 12 (the next morning)
I haven’t noticed any more changes in myself, but the guys are being a little more open about being intimate with each other. Still, it’s only been Hank and Nick, and what turned out to be George and Leonard in the basement yesterday, who have actually done much more than get really close with a shy grope here and there, although I caught Ian and Chris exchanging tongue once. There seems to be some hesitation with everyone, like they’re waiting for something. Permission maybe? I’ve noticed they’ve been giving me quick glances after casual contact with the each other, before they suddenly need to be on the opposite side of the house.
To help take my mind off things I tried to join Hank and Nick in reading, them on the couch and me in the recliner, when they started to get playful. It started with Hank leaning closer and closer to Nick’s ear, then he slowly began to nibble it. Nick turned to give him a quick kiss but it turned into a full-blown make out sessions. I watched, spellbound, for several minutes as things heated up. Nick squirmed and suddenly there was a quick ripping sound of fabric as his boxers caught and pulled the wrong way, tearing off. Surprised, they stopped their horseplay and looked at me sheepishly, then busted up laughing at what they saw. I apparently had been slowly stroking myself while watching them, a glazed look in my eye and mouth agape. Of course my sudden realization of the situation, blushing all the way down to my nipples and running out of the room didn’t help quiet their laughter. Did help get myself back under control though, which is good ‘cause I might have seriously done something I would have regretted.
I don’t know what’s come over me. Before any of this happened I was straight, completely straight. Hell I never even had any of those curious cravings that everyone says you get in college. Now though, I’m not sure I’d care who or what I fucked. But I’m pretty sure that giving in, even to just jack off, would be a really bad idea now.
Entry 13 (day after, sometime in the late evening)
The guys came back from their scavenging hunt today nearly shouting with joy. They had found a store on the far end of town that was practically untouched and filled with all kinds of stuff. Among other things, they brought back food, water, toilet paper, and hand sanitizer, but most important to them was the large cache of booze they carried. I was about to tell them off for going that far across town when they handed me a large bottle of wine, saying that I should get the best stuff for having taken care of them for so long. I stared at it, trying to remember what I had been about to say, my anger forgotten with my words. I took the bottle, ripped out the cork and drank. The rich red fluid going down my throat felt like cool water being poured over scalding cement, relieving the dry throat I didn’t know I had. The guys cheered and started passing out drinks to everyone else. They had also scored some batteries, which they started shoving into a portable stereo, but I was still coherent enough to know that loud music was a bad idea. They pleaded with me, and I couldn’t resist the suddenly-erected wall of puppy eyes before me, so I told them they could but only if they did so downstairs in the basement and didn’t turn it up too high.
I don’t recall the next couple hours very well. I know I finished off the bottle of wine myself and am pretty sure I had a few shots of something else, too. Sometime later, I noticed that the guys who had brought the stuff were nowhere to be seen. A very rosy-cheeked Casey was still drinking in the chair next to me, and I asked him where they had gone. When he admitted they had gone out for more liquor, I immediately jumped out of my chair and rushed upstairs. Panic and alcohol overriding my judgment, I ripped the front door open and ran out into the street. It was nearly dusk and I couldn’t see them anywhere. And there I was, outside in nothing but my boxers, panting heavily and frantically looking around for the guys. Casey had followed me upstairs and was standing in the doorway calling as quietly as he could for me to come back, but I ignored him for several more minutes as I wildly looked around. As the adrenaline rush began to wear off and reason took hold, I stumbled back toward the frat house, but having moved so fast with so much booze still in my system turned out to be a bad idea. My head started to spin and I staggered up the lawn. I barely heard Casey shouting at me, let alone the creature sneaking up behind me.
Next thing I know I’m being tackled from behind onto the lawn by a wolf-man wearing one of the college’s jerseys. He rolled off me and got into a low offensive stance a few yards away. I picked myself up and shot him a glare that only made him grin. He rushed me but I somehow managed to dodge, stumbling to the ground where my hand landed on something I hoped I could use as a weapon. It was a long wooden stick, mostly smooth with gnarled, natural twists and knots at the top. Not sure what it’s made of, and didn’t care at the time, I just picked up the thing and when the beast charged me again, I brought the curved heavy top down hard on his skull. Wolfy fell flat, clearly knocked for a loop, and laid there for a second as I prepared for another attack. He got up, laughing, and stretched, apparently unharmed. Turning to me, he straightened his jersey and said, “Man, that really stung. Let me know if you’re ever interested in joining the team.”
And just like that he walked off. I watched him go, keeping my stick weapon raised in case he tried another rush. When he was out of sight, I headed back toward the frat house where Casey was still waiting. I made it nearly to the porch stairs before losing my footing but Casey caught my arm and kept me from falling. He helped me inside and took me upstairs to my room, pulling down the mattress that covered the window so I could lay on it. I set the stick on the floor next to me; for some reason I just wanted to have it with me. After fetching me a couple pillows, Casey offered to go get me something for the pain, like more wine. Much as I wanted some, I asked him to just bring me water and ibuprofen, adding, as he was heading out the door, to please grab my journal. When he came back, I told him to set up a watch on all sides of the house and let me know as soon as the guys came back. ‘Cause I had an earful to give them.
He hesitated before leaving again, asking if there was anything else I’d like before he left, and I didn’t miss his eyes darting down to my crotch a few times. That urge came back for a moment, but with the pressure in my aching head, I was able to fight it off. I waved him out and just laid there for a bit before opening you up.
I can feel myself losing control, just like I can feel whatever is inside of me trying to get out. Damn my head hurts. Think that wolf gave me some lumps, two hard ones on my temples. Really going to feel those in the morning, right along with the hangover. Not going to lie, I’m really worried about the guys that went out. They probably went out drunk, and I’ve told them time after time to NEVER go out at night. The monsters are more active at night and seem not to mind that the entire city is darker than shit with no power. If the guys aren’t back by morning, I’m going out myself to find them. Now though, I really need to sleep.
Entry 14 (the next afternoon)
Well, they came back. Not really sure how I should put this, as it all happened kind of fast, but it kind of solved all our problems really. I mean, sure we failed at not getting infected and we lost our humanity, but it wasn’t all that bad really. Maybe I should explain from the beginning. Hope you don’t mind if I go into detail on parts, but they’re really interesting and I want to be able to remember them for later.
I woke up this morning with the hangover I expected, but Nick was there waiting with a bottle of water, pills and a power bar for me. As he helped me sit up and take a drink, I couldn’t help but smell something weird about him, something odd but good. He noticed me taking whiffs of him, blushed deeply and tried to move away, but I grabbed him and pulled him closer. I quietly asked him to tell me what had happened. His face scrunched up in a mix of fear, confusion, embarrassment and joy. Tears slowly filled his eyes as he softly explained that he didn’t know how or how he knew, but that he was pregnant.
I stared at him for several moments, waiting for the “Got ya!” but he wasn’t kidding. He was right, and I could somehow smell it on him. I laid back and let out a loud sigh of defeat. So we really had been infected and now one of us was preggers. I asked him if he had lost his junk, but he said he hadn’t, and didn’t gain anything extra either. Even showed me to be sure, and while I felt a slight twinge in my own junk, it wasn’t as strong as my urges had been lately. I think my knowing that he already had a bun in the oven kept it bay. We sat there for a while not talking, my headache slowly clearing up. I asked if Hank knew and Nick shook his head. He said he had just realized it himself this morning and Hank had been on lookout since before dawn.
Putting my hand on his I told him that I was sorry, but he shook his head saying that I had done my best and that honestly he was really happy. Sure he was scared, but for some reason he was also glad it had happened. He started to say something else when someone from across the hall started yelling that the other guys were back. The whole house was suddenly alive with movement and sound, myself included, which certainly didn’t help my head at all. Nick got up to lead me downstairs, and I grabbed my stick and followed him, using it like a walking stick to keep myself upright while the world tried its best to turn me upside down.
By the time I got downstairs; the four guys had already been brought inside, three of them rather banged up and the fourth, poor George, writhing on the floor with only scraps of clothing left on him. From his exposed crotch we could all see white and grey fur spreading from a visibly sopping wet pussy nearly-formed below his rapidly-shrinking maleness. His chest was swelling up into breasts and his face was pushing out into a muzzle while he groaned and whined for help. My frat brother looked up pleadingly from the floor, eyes focusing and un-focusing as tears streamed down his cheek. He begged me to stop the change, crying that he didn’t want to be a girl or anybody’s bitch, that he wanted to keep his dick; all the while, his changing hands betrayed him and kept finding their way to his new pussy and breasts, fondling them and speeding up the change.
I looked to the guys who had gone with him and demanded an explanation. They hesitantly told me that they had gone to hit the store again before someone else looted it. They had gotten there without incident; collected an impressive haul and were almost back when George had spotted the husky-man that had taken Joe. Without waiting for the others, George charged at it with his baseball bat, but the thing was accompanied by a number of bitches, who swarmed in and easily subdued George. By the time the other guys beat their way through the pack of females to rescue him, the husky-man had already mounted and shot a fresh load into their trembling frat brother. They managed to scare off the husky-man and the females and had brought George back here as fast as they could, even leaving behind their take from the store. As they finished the story, the three guys begged for forgiveness and pleaded with me to do something.
Clutching my stick and staring down at my nearly-transformed frat brother, all I could hear was the voice in my head, growing louder. The instinct that I had been fighting was speaking clearly, commandingly to me, “Take him! Take him now before it’s too late and he’s lost for good! Flush it out of him and make him yours!”
My head swam, lust was overtaking me, but I didn’t want to turn my brother into a mindless bitch. Still the voice pushed, “Take him! Make him your nymph! His body may be lost but his mind will be saved. Flush the dog out of him and save your friend! Purge him! FUCK HIM NOW!”
The others were staring at me in silence, the only sounds in the house the crying moans of George as he convulsed on the floor. But it wasn’t my face they were looking it; it was my dick rising up in my boxers. I looked down and watched as it pushed its way out of one of the leg holes and rose to full mast. I clutched my wooden staff so hard that my knuckles went white as a memory came to me: that odd guy, the one with the demon, he had lost his breasts after drinking the barreled wine from those goat-men. He even got his human-ish face back. Maybe that was the key to getting George male again! As I ripped off my boxers and started to lower myself to the floor next to George, I addressed the guys, “Go find those goat-legged guys with the barrel. Tell them we need it here right away. If they don’t comply beat them to a pulp but bring me that barrel!”
Six guys jumped into action and ran out the door, and the remaining other guys watched as I crawled atop George, who looked up at me with pleading, lust-filled eyes, though whether he wanted me to save or fuck him, I couldn’t tell. But if I wanted him to still have a mind when the guys got back, I had to stop the husky essence from taking him completely. And to do that I needed to do what my instincts told me and flush the dog out of him.
When George realized what I was doing he started struggling to get out from under me, and I had to grab his shoulders to hold him down, but once the head of my dick touched the lips of his needy cunt, he stopped. I let it rest there, feeling the heat and need of both of us, concentrated at the tip of my penis, knowing that if I took the plunge it’d all be over; we’d both lose. But we already HAD lost, Nick was proof of that. So I thrust my hips forward and sank my dick in as far as it could go, eliciting a loud howl from the half-bitch beneath me. George’s pussy clearly hadn’t finished forming internally yet, as I could only get half my huge 10-inch dick into it.
Shuddering, I pulled back out and slowly pushed back in. The tight flesh felt amazing around my dick, which had been begging for attention the past several days. Inside was hot and moist, and every time I pushed in I went deeper and deeper, the pussy forming faster along with my thrusts. I could feel the beast inside me coming to the front and my pace quickened, and soon I was fucking George with a hard, steady rhythm while he moaned and squirmed underneath me. I could feel the other frat brothers watching me, but I didn’t care. All I could focus on was the hot cunt I was pounding and the feeling of my nuts slapping against flesh as I rammed myself in to the hilt.
I was too busy fucking to be aware of any more changes at the time, but the guys watching saw the transformations in both me and George (they told me later in great detail, and I’ll document it here as I understand it happened). George had stopped showing signs of becoming a dog, the fur even starting to recede. His dick however only seemed to shrink faster; he definitely seemed to be reverting back to human, but still female. I, on the other hand, was becoming increasingly more masculine. The muscles I had started to develop by working out in my free time quickly became more defined, a chiseled physique worthy of a Greek statue. My chest seemed to explode with hair and large silky tufts grew on my forearms. My face pushed out with the slightest hint of a goatish muzzle and the beard on my chin grew out eight inches. With every thrust of my hips the hair on my legs grew thicker and thicker, until both legs were fully covered in dark brown goat fur. Above my ass my tailbone started pressing out, snaking out longer and longer until it was a thick rope-like appendage nearly three feet long and covered in its own layer of fur with a tuft at the end. My calves shortened, while my feet stretched out, toes shifting and melding, my toenails darkening and growing until I had a pair of powerful hooves befitting my new stature. Yet I wasn’t done. The last things to change happened on my head where my ears stretched out, sprouting a thin fur covering to give me a pair of large goat-like ears that stuck out and flopped around with my rhythmic motions. From my temples, bony protrusions pushed out, then up and back while growing ever thicker; soon I had a pair of large black ram horns that stopped just short of finishing their first spiral.
With this last change I had reached my limit, and so had George. I let out a piercing bleating sound as my dick unleashed within him, the ample amount of seed I had been building up flushing away the last of the canine and completing his transformation into a large-breasted Nymph. My orgasm seemed to last forever, my body continued spasming even as I collapsed on top of my partner, spent and panting. George’s legs –her legs– remained wrapped around me, and I could feel her vagina constricting around my member, milking it of all it had to give. It was several moments before I had strength enough in my arms to lift myself up and off of her. George had become an exquisite and curvaceous woman with soft ebony skin, and breasts the size of large cantaloupes. She smiled up at me seductively, beckoning me for another go, and her eyes rolled up into her head in ecstasy as I pulled out of her, my seed still dripping from the end of my softening cock onto her swollen vaginal lips. I looked down at it and couldn’t believe my eyes, and the other guys gasped audibly; my dick had to be at least 14 inches long and a good eight inches around! It was bright red and smooth with a slight point at the tip. As it softened, the large organ was retracting into a sheath, a sleeve of skin covered in an extremely fine fur, above my pair of massive oblong black balls.
I used my staff to pull myself up onto my hooves. I stood rather shakily at first, like a newborn goat, being not only unaccustomed to the stance, but also ‘cause, hell, and after an intense fuck session, I’d like to see ANY guy stand up straight! Behind me there was a loud scraping noise, that of a heavy object being dragged across the floor, and suddenly two guys were helping me into the recliner, one making sure I didn’t accidentally sit on my new tail. Once seated I noticed that all the guys standing around me had removed their clothing and were all staring at me, slowly tugging on throbbing erections that were almost purple. Many of them showed minor signs of transformation: a patch of fur here, a horn budding there, even a sheath similar to mine. The voice inside me told me what to do next, and I didn’t hesitate. I leaned back and my dick slid out of my sheath, hardening once again, and I couldn’t help but grin as I invited the group,“Well, go on then.”
I was quickly pounced on from all sides as nearly a dozen guys fought to be the first to get hold of my dick. I laughed merrily as greedy hands gripped me, and hungry tongues ran down my member to my balls and inner thighs. I felt teeth latch onto my nipples. I watched guys grind their cocks against each other. Smiling, I reached into the crowd and grabbed the first dick I found, guiding it to the nearest ass; the pulsing cock leaked ample amounts of fluid and slipped in easily, immediately beginning a rough fuck, even as the guy getting pounded continued to fight to wrap his lips around my dick. With my size, there was definitely enough to go around, but the number of guys trying to squeeze their faces in there at the same time still made things difficult. The endless grinding, licking, fondling and sucking was pure ecstasy, and even though I had just blown a huge load into George, I could feel another swiftly building.
Across the room, Hank was pressing Nick up against a wall, bouncing him on his dick while they made out, tears in their eyes (Nick later told me that they had been tears of joy, as he had just told Hank he was pregnant). I enjoyed the scene as they rapidly shifted into full satyrs. Hank sprouted larger horns and a longer tail than Nick, though neither could compare to my own. Hank also had fuzzy ears similar to mine.
Many of the guys around me had taken to mounting those underneath them, and I clapped as I watched their fuck-train. The guy on the very bottom, Ian, wasn’t getting furry like the others but was instead becoming a nymph like George, developing flawless skin, a plump and lovely butt, gorgeous breasts and long luscious hair. The sight of all that rutting, the endless moaning, the frenzied rubbing of my cock and balls, and the hands massaging my body soon pushed me past the brink, and I arched my back in the chair and released another bleat that echoed across the house, temporarily drowning out the other sounds of passion, as I came a second time. My jizz blasted out of my cock, shooting into waiting mouths, dripping down blissful faces, covering all those nearby. What wasn’t immediately swallowed was quickly wiped up and sucked off of fingers or licked off sticky body parts. As they ingested my seed, their transformation into satyrs accelerated, with features derivative of my own.
Almost in unison, the others reached orgasm, some unloading into the ass they were fucking, some pulling out and painting my legs and chest with their rich satyr cream, some feeding their fresh loads to ever-hungry mouths. Hank filled his mate with his hot fluid. Casey was hilt-deep shooting inside Leonard. The volume level in the house reached a crescendo as everyone in the room climaxed. It was music to my goat-ish ears.
One by one, or in pairs, they collapsed onto the floor, exhausted and sated for the moment, but I knew that the calm was only temporary; the urges would soon return. I sat back satisfied and reveled in the afterglow of my second orgasm in this new form, remembering and loving the sensation. My quiet enjoyment was soon interrupted, however, by a whistle coming from the front door, and my eyes snapped open as a familiar voice said, “Wow, didn’t expect to find you guys like this already.”
In what seemed like a dream, I turned my head towards the voice. There, casually leaning against the doorframe stood a very alive, and a very satyr, Jack, with his usual shit-eating grin on his face. He was still recognizable even though he now had a dark chinstrap beard with two tufts on either side of his chin and two light-colored horns curling out of his temples to a handsome length of seven inches (we measured later). A cute little tuft of brown fur was between his muscular pecs and a thin treasure trail of hair led down to his delicious-looking 10-inch cock (yeah, we measured that too) sticking out above balls the size of oranges. I stared, dumbfounded for a moment, and blinked hard. It was really him! I leapt at him. Not sure whether I caught him by surprise or he let me but before he could say another word, I had him in my arms, squeezing the life out of him. It wasn’t until he gasped for air that I realized how tight I’d been hugging him and let go. I put him down and stared at him again, my mind reeling with emotions. I looked down at him (turns out I had grown a few inches too, and was now taller than he was) as my joy turned to anger, and without thinking, I gave him a swift and hard head butt.
He staggered back and shook his head, quickly regaining his balance. He gripped the bridge of his nose and laughed, “Whew! Now that’s how you clear out the sinuses!”
I grabbed one of his horns, and twisted hard, forcing him to look at me. “Where the fuck have you been?! Don’t you know I’ve been worried sick about you?”
He laughed again and reached up and gently pried my fingers off his horn as he said calmingly, “Relax dude. I’ve been here the entire time, taking care of you guys and helping ya come around.”
He stared at me, amused, as I slowly pieced it all together: the mysterious supplies appearing on the porch, the lack of monster attacks on the house even with all the violence in the street out front, our guys coming and going safely from the house and succeeding on so many scavenging trips. Of course it made sense that there was someone on the outside helping with all of that, someone who cared about the welfare of the guys inside. I finally understood, and I pulled him close for another hug, this time much gentler, tears in my eyes. He reciprocated and patted me on the shoulder affectionately. I picked him up and carried him inside like a groom stepping over the threshold of the honeymoon suite with his new bride. We both got a laugh when I bumped my horns on the doorframe.
A few moments later, his buddies –the satyrs from the day he went missing, the same ones Eric and I saw from the window– walked into the house along with the guys I had sent out to find them. My guys were dragging in the wine barrel, leaving the satyrs free to ogle the spent occupants of the frat house. In fact, the two immediately made straight for George as soon as they saw the ebony nymph; with the lustful way she looked at their dicks, I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t have resisted, but I stopped them, explaining to them that she really wanted to be a guy again and that I was hoping the wine could help do that. They seemed reluctant to give up their wine to change a nymph but Jack managed to convince them to do so, and they poured out a measured drink. George hesitated briefly, looking me over and licking her lips, probably remembering the feeling of my cock inside her, before downing the wine. She immediately asked for a refill, and then another. She downed four full goblets before the changes began.
First the breasts that one of Jack’s satyr buddies had been pretending to grope from afar starting shrinking. The look on his face was priceless as they receded into a pair of defined Pecs, soft cheeks angled into a square jaw, barely visible fuzz growing out into a short and curly black beard. He –for she was now becoming a he again– attempted to stand but the shifting of his leg and feet bones sent him falling forward onto his knees and elbows, bare ass facing us. We could see his tailbone pop out into a little tail, and between his legs, his pussy receded and his clit grew larger into a proper cock and balls. George was all male but also satyr, and his new scent hit us hard. It spoke of fertility and lust, and as it wafted across the room, it began rousing the rest of the guys out of their rest. Hank was the first to act, coming up behind him and driving his dick deep into the black satyr’s ass. Nick moved around front and, as George opened his mouth in a moan, shoved his dick down his throat. The three of them rocked in rhythm, Hank and Nick leaning forward to kiss while they filled the satyr between them from both ends. It turned out that even as a male, George, like Nick, as was able to get pregnant, and his short time as a nymph had accelerated putting him into heat. I also felt the urge to mate with him, but I already had someone in my lap.
Not willing to let him go so soon after losing him once, I had been holding Jack in my lap in the recliner, innocently watching the George scene unfold. When George’s scent hit me however, my dick started to rise out of my sheath, pressing against Jack’s butt, and I pulled my friend closer and started to nibble on his ear, noticing just the slightest bit of fuzz on the tip. He chuckled and pulled away coyly, claiming it tickled. I knew he felt my dick against the crack of his ass and he started to wiggle uncomfortably, admitting that while it was hot to watch everyone fucking, he still preferred pussy.
I wouldn’t have it! He had left me in hell for weeks, all because he just HAD to have a drink, and I wasn’t about to take “no” for an answer. He continued to resist, but as I nibbled at his neck and fondled his hardening dick, he started to relax and get into it. Jack’s satyr friends looked at the action going on around them, looked at each other, shrugged, threw back a goblet of wine each, and practically swan dived into the pile of frat brother satyrs on the floor who were all worked up again.
I turned Jack around to face me and kissed him, even as he protested about how gay I was being. But after a few minutes, he started to grind his ass against my dick as I groped his crack.
I think my new favorite game is getting his tail to wiggle while I play with the hole underneath it; the slightest pressure against it starts him groaning, and sticking a lubed finger inside makes him gasp. The first time learning all these things was a lot of fun. He also tends to bitch about preferring juicy cunt over dick, but as soon as I start prodding under his tail with mine he gets all faggy. Even as big as my dick is, it just slides right into his tight hole. And he’s VERY vocal when he’s being fucked. My favorite position is laying on my back with him riding me face forward so I can lean up and suck on that huge dick of his. I regret that we never did this before because he tastes really good! I’ve known him forever, and he used to tell me all the time just how he likes a girl to suck him off, (although back then I kept trying to smother him with pillows just to stop him from telling me) and I put that knowledge to good use. Still not completely convinced that he’s never had a dick up his ass before, ‘cause he really knows how to move his hips to work mine good. Bending him over onto his knees to take him from behind also seems to satisfy a primal need and boy does he love it when I really slam into him that way. But what really gets him going more than anything is when I grab onto his horns during sex. Jack LOVES that, whether he’s the bottom or the top.
Yes, I did let him top me. It’s only fair, and I like it, but I’m sure we both like it more when I’m penetrating him. Maybe if I shoot enough loads up there, I’ll even put my own little faun inside him like Hank did with Nick and George.
SO NOT HAPPENING!!!
Sorry, Jack got hold of the journal there for a moment. Anyway I’m going to finish up this entry with explaining that it was Jack I saw that day with the broken basement window. He had snuck in and emptied his flask of satyr wine into our water tank in an attempt to start our transformations. He had slipped back out and was wedging the window shut when I came down and caught him. So we’d been drinking the wine the whole time. Still not sure why our changes went so weird and slow though, ‘cause his change was rather quick. I’ll ask the other satyrs next time I see them. For now, I’ve got to put you away before Jack takes you again to put in his two cents. Think I’ll give him something else to occupy himself with… namely my dick.
Entry 15 (a week later I think)
So the house is really looking different now. We opened it up and cleaned it out. Good to see it without boards and furniture against the windows. Yet another odd thing though, I think the plants around the frat house have been infected as well. There’s a strange thick vine wrapping itself around the fence, across the porch, and up the walls, even snaking into the house in places. But we left it alone since it hasn’t posed a danger; in fact, it seems to have warped the woodwork of the building, as I no longer have to duck to get through the doorways, which is nice.
Also, we talked to the satyrs about the transformation thing. (By the way, they are just like us: constantly drunk and ALWAYS horny. So we get along great!) They explained that from what they understood, all the infections in the city were caused by an outbreak of experimental nanites. These nanites are transferred through bodily fluids and certain liquids –like the satyr wine– and cause hybrid transformations. Apparently, diluting the satyr wine in our water tank slowed the transformation process for us. They also said there were different strains and that sometimes strains mutated when they encountered certain stimuli. For example, it’s likely my unwillingness to give in may have affected the nanites already in my body, with them mutating into a stronger strain to overcome my resistance, resulting in me being more dominant than the others around me.
Speaking of which, I’ve become something of a lead satyr, head of the herd if you will, and most of the other satyrs instinctively defer to me as the alpha male. Even Jack has a hard time resisting me when I get forceful, but I think that has more to do with him loving my dick (he’ll never admit that though). Hank seems to be the next closest thing to my strain, a lot like an alpha, though even he often tries to get me to mount his tight ass.
And tight asses are something we have no shortage of. Since we opened things up, the frat house has become one of THE party hangouts in the city. Jack’s crew brings by plenty of nymphs (they don’t have to try very hard). Even other infected come to party with the Phi Alpha Nu satyrs here.
We’ll have more than a few kids running about here before long. Pretty sure at least a couple are mine. I’d really like to knock up the guys having Hank’s fauns after they give birth; he’s even already given me permission to try.
Though from the way Jack smells right now, I may not have to wait.
(Hope you all enjoyed.)