A Werewoman Journal, part 1

Thursday 27th

It's been so long, happened so many times that I know now not to fight her when she arrives. I've learned tricks to ease the handover, and mostly she reciprocates. Scratching each others backs, maybe. We make it easy on each other now and it's for the best... But I hate it.

Twenty years, twelve or thirteen full moons a year. Quick maths says tonight is something around my 250th transformation... Crazy to think I've been living with this so long. I fought it so hard at first. For years I just couldn't let her exist without a scrap. I'd lock myself away, chain myself up. I'd travel to the middle of nowhere so she wouldn't have a chance to spread. None of it worked, not really. There's no asserting myself against whatever this is. It's who we are, who I am, for better or worse. We're better off the way we do things now.

I've learned to read lunar calendars so I can arrange my life. Days off work, or working from home, that kind of thing - not that she does any of that. She arrives when the full moon first rises, and goes when it last sets so she's here in the daytime over the period.

The night before the full moon is strange. She's there, waiting and impatient, but she can't come out. I feel agitated and worried, but also kind of horny... My body fizzes and I'm sure she's winding me up for the night after, or perhaps just pushing the strange elasticity of my body. Maybe she just wants to get everything masculine out of me before she takes over. My balls feel heavy and my dick is bigger and I have to fuck, or jack off at least, just to get some sleep. The nights I haven't I always wake up covered in cum after the most intense dreams. But yeah... I don't know if any of that is really down to her or the condition. The only thing for sure is that I can feel the moon, actually respond to the moonlight. I can feel it reaching out across space to me, tendrils of reflected light dancing over my skin... squeezing me, shaping me, coaxing her from the space she lives inside the cells of my body.

Her thoughts arrive before her body, insidiously slipping in behind my own so I don't even notice at first. I'd be talking to someone and not even realise that I was imagining myself on my knees between their legs. My decision making is terrible, inconsistent and compromised by desire and greed. You might not believe what a glutton she is - food and drink just get shovelled in. I think it's fuel for the changes. I'm always hungry when I come back.

And when that full moon is up... The rule is pretty much that the sun must have set and the full moon is completely above the horizon. I still change whether I see the moon or not, but having its light directly on me affects the speed of the change and the point at which she takes over. Put me in a windowless basement, and the change is going to be drawn out, and I'll be present until the physical transformation is done. But on top of a mountain in the open air, her mind will arrive before my body transforms.

The transformation is never what I expect. My brain has never gotten used to the sensation - the bones cracking and reforming, the organs shrinking and growing... it feels like a nightmare. It's one of the reasons I tend to give her the clear moonlight if possible. To her, the emergence of her body from mine is rapturous. She loves feeling her breasts bulge out of my male body, my waist crushing in and ass spreading out to form her curves. I know this because I have a passive memory of some of the things she does. I can feel her feelings to a small degree, but it's more like watching a vivid movie than actual lived experiences.

Well, it's going dark now and I'm going to head outside. I've brought my RV out to the woods, so she can come out comfortably. I hope she appreciates it, and it would be amazing if she were to write something here. Just for clarity. Please think about it.

Friday 28th

This is all I'm going to write: there is no other person. There's no competition between us because Marina not a different person to Martin. I am you. I'm just you when you look different. You don't remember some things clearly because you're in denial. I, Martin, just sucked a trucker's cock and gargled his cum. I told him my name was Marina because I can't tell him I'm called Martin. And I wasn't magically compelled - I did it because I love it.

I love being Marina. You love being Marina.

Monday 31st

Can this be true? All these years blaming an imaginary part of myself, the time wasted, the anxiety. I feel like I'm going crazy.

All I can think about is her, standing in the moonlight, loving the feeling of womanhood blossoming, masculinity slipping away. A pussy opening up, a tunnel into the core of her body... my body. The photo she put in the journal is wild. She's short and gorgeously thick. She looks so young compared to me - she hasn't aged where I've gotten so, so tired. Will she still be that way when I'm seventy, eighty years old?

Just looking at the photo is shocking. It's not me - there's no resemblance at all - but I know her face and body. They're mine, I inhabit them, I have to admit it. I have flashes of the way she feels... A quiver in my stomach as I half-remember what it feels like to have a cock slide into my pussy. Oh god.

Monday 7th

My cock is so hard. I think it might be true. I'm imagining it happening all the time and it's turning me on so much. Hair writhing out of my scalp, tickling my neck. My nails growing even as my fingers slim and shrink. My new dainty hands feeling my soft skin, clutching my heavy breasts, toying with my clitoris, so small and hard, slipping into my wet hole. My skin so tight and smooth...

Friday 11th

I woke this morning covered in cum. This normally only happens right before a full moon. I know what I was dreaming about - the thing that used to frighten me but since last time only arouses me more and more. I dreamed of sitting, watching my shirt as I grew breasts underneath. First my nipples pressed into the fabric and I could see them thicken and enlarge. Then what were only small points began to bulge and curve outward, growing, growing, now visibly tits, fat and firm. Gaps appeared between buttons, then the material strained as my gorgeous big boobs began their final push. One button, then another, then another shot off and they came tumbling out. Huge, womanly tits. That's when I awoke. At first I thought I'd bit my lip in my sleep, but then I realised my mouth, my face was splattered with my cum. It pooled in my neck and streaked my bare chest.

Thursday 24th

I didn't write for the last couple of weeks because I was scared I was making it worse. That writing everything down like this was just aggravating a problem. But I think the problem might be that I've spent so long thinking of it as a problem, instead of a gift.

Each morning, as we approached the full moon tonight, I got more excited. Excited to be her, or just the other me. Instead of seeing these as her thoughts, insidiously creeping in, I realised they were mine. I am her. I want to be her. There will be no battle or attempt to contain her tonight. I'm going to a hotel in the city with big windows and a bag of our clothes. I'm going to transform, I'm going to shower, and I'm going to go out and get fucked. I am. Me.

Friday 25th

Well, isn't that better? It's strange to think this internal war is solved after so long. I just had to listen to myself. Instead of trepidation, I felt elated as I undressed in the hotel. My big, pre-moon cock was rock hard as I slid off my underwear and pulled back the curtains. The moon hadn't quite got over the horizon, but I could feel it. The energy in it's light was firing through me. I felt limber, alive, sexy. I jacked off slowly, sitting on the edge of the bed, my fat balls hanging into my cupped hand as I stroked.

As the moon crept higher, I could feel it rising in myself. My orgasm, as well as the change began to build. I watched the moon, and felt my foreskin sliding over the head of my dick, which had never been thicker or harder. As the full lunar disc emerged, it's power rushed to me and I was struck as forcefully as if I had been pushed. I lay back, trying to keep wanking as my hands cramped as shook, then my arms.

All over, I was shrinking - except my cock. My hands were small, and they made my dick seem even bigger as they struggled to encircle the girth. Callouses just smoothed away, and I looked past my erection to see that my feet were similarly dainty. All over, my bones were cracking and popping, and there was a moment of panic as I felt my entire spine ripple and realign. I was shorter now, barely over five feet tall. My skin became paler and in one thrilling moment, I felt it contract around me, every nerve firing at once. Under the sensitive skin of my face, I could feel my bones melting and flowing, my teeth moving and contracting as my mouth changed shape. My nostrils stung as they twisted and shrank.

I put my head back, and under it I could feel hair, long and thick, piling up. I moaned, and the noise was breathy and high. My cock was straining now, the flesh almost bursting. It was nearly purple in colour, and with my new smaller torso it came almost to the bottom of the breasts that were starting to surge upward. I called out involuntarily as they began to round out - real, big, fat tits. My cum unstoppered and I began blasting rope after rope of sticky, thick jizz over my chin, my new boobs, soaking them utterly.

With the last shots, I felt my balls pulled inside me, moving along the passage I realised was my new vagina, and pulled apart to be remade into ovaries. My dick slipped through my hands, shrinking far more quickly than it could have after a normal orgasm, reeling into my groin as it narrowed, shifted, settled as the clitoris over my new, tight, wet pussy.

I tried to sit up, but was surprised by the amount of height of lost and slid to the floor. Before my ass had been on the bed, and now it was mostly off. I landed on it, and laughed at how round and soft it was. I hadn't felt it or my hips expanding, but they were big. I held up my cum streaked tits and watched as tattoos faded in on my pale skin. I had gotten them over the years, on my female body, and I guess they remained hidden whenever I was male.

For the first time I was able to appreciate my own beauty. Where I was scared that I was some demonic harpy, I'm really a sultry sex bomb. In the mirror, I examined my heavy-lidded eyes with their witch-blue colouring, sexy pout and lustrous hair with the amazement of my very first time in this body.

In many ways, this was the first time all over again. My mind was unclouded by fear or illusion. I was a woman, in every way that mattered, for the next two days. This body is so receptive to pleasure, so demanding of attention. I cleaned off the cum, and began to explore my form. Everything felt so fucking good. On my knees, I gently shook my body, letting my breasts swing and clap together, their significant weight pulling me from side to side as they shook. I held them, feeling their size. They were big, especially in my small new hands.

I reached down further. My waist was trim but not skinny. My hips flared spectacularly, and my thighs bulged below. They were thick and strong, but soft too. If my tits were big then my ass was huge. Round and shapely... if I could I would have pushed my own face between the large cheeks and felt them snug around my head. I grabbed and pinched and mauled my ass that night. I couldn't get enough of it. I had a bath, got it all soapy and groped myself, letting my fingers roam around the sensitive entrance to my asshole. 

I wanted to make up for lost time. I wanted to go out and fuck, but I knew I had to get the measure of this body some more. Whatever part of me had been in control, it clearly wasn't truly Martin, just a part of me. Otherwise why would I be so invigorated now? Surely this would feel routine? Unless it was always this way.. Or maybe she thought she was whole in the way I did. God, I love looking like this.

The lingerie I found in Marina's stash was perfect. Flattering and sexy. I started to think about showing myself off. I put on a simple, tight body, took a selfie and set up a profile on a hook-up site. I hid my face and let my thick body do the talking.

The anticipation was high. I remembered the woman I had been bitten by, all those years ago - she didn't look like me, but she was revved up, insatiable. Not exactly desperate, just a real fuckslut. Maybe that's who I am too, my mother's daughter, a werewoman fuckslut who wants cock and wants to just sink her teeth into some unexpecting guy and make him like me. Those thoughts were like some sort of catalyst to my libido, and I felt my pussy cream. I shuddered in pleasure and suddenly I was wetter than any woman I had ever felt. My fingers slipped inside my slick hole and I began to fuck myself.

I wanted to change someone, make a man into another werewoman. I wanted them to give me a hard dicking, really fuck me silly, to use me, and then... then I would... I felt something stir under my tongue. A single, curved fang emerged from the soft tissue there. I probed it gently - it was needle sharp. That was it, that was how it happened to me. A toxin, a magical venom that this body produced. That another werewoman injected into the base of my cock so many years ago. And what would I get back? A drop of blood? No, it was more insidious than that. Some portion of me was a predator, and my meal was... what? Why did I want to do this so much all of a sudden? 

I didn't go out in the end, but I got a lot of guys on the hook. I picked one lucky hunk for a daytime date and an implied visit to my hotel room. Then, in the early hours, stuck between worrying about what I was capable of and utterly excited by the same thing, I fell asleep.

When I woke mid-morning, I almost forgot that I was Marina. The automatic morning scratch of my balls was met with a micro-second of panic as no balls were found, but it only took a moment to begin stirring my finger in the opening of my pussy, spreading wetness over my lips and clit, and filling me with the urge to be filled. Remembering Marina's stash bag, I went and retrieved one of her sex toys.

In my sexy stockings, I fucked my vagina relentlessly with a lavender vibrator. The feeling of something in me, separating the tight walls of my pussy was intoxicating, even a cool piece of plastic. I got nearer to cumming, and I felt the single spiked fang under my tongue emerge again. Was I really going to sink it into some unsuspecting guys cock? What would happen?

Shaking through my orgasm I resolved to try and control myself and not bite my poor unsuspecting hook up. But I also knew that my curiosity about my body was beginning to run beyond my female qualities and into my supernatural ones.

I met my hookup, Dan, in the rooftop hotel bar at lunchtime. He was tall and rather handsome, and I felt my body flutter in anticipation. I dressed to show off my tits and he was predictably captivated. We each had a glass of wine, and when I suggested that we could order another in my room, he jumped at the chance. 

We never got to place an order to room service. I perched on the bed and held my breasts up. "I know you've been thinking about the way my titties are going to feel in your mouth. Well, me too. Let's find out." His hands were so big compared to mine, his body so strong, that I felt myself absolutely melt. Even after a night of self-exploration, even though I was beyond ready to fuck a man, I was still taken aback by how much my female body needed, wanted, desired this.

He pulled my top down, and roughly grabbed my tits through my bra. He sank his fingers in, groping me firmly. Each manipulation was a live wire to my pussy. He folded the cups of my bra down, exposing my pale flesh and the hard pink nipples, and his mouth was on them in a flash. Licking, suckling, pushing his face into the cleavage, loving my breasts. No part of my body ever had this effect on a partner, not that I could remember. I began to pull at his clothes too, unbuttoning his shirt, freeing his cock, smooth and iron hard. I held it and, as his pulse throbbed in the veins that encircled his erection, I immediately felt the strange fang under my tongue emerge. I stared at it, at him, and saw in his eyes a look of absolute hunger reflected back at me. He pushed me back, dropped to his knees and tore apart the crotch of my pantyhose to get at my pussy. He drove his tongue into my wetness.

This was it. As he lapped at my thick pussy lips, teased my clit, I descended into a kind of madness. I would take my orgasm, I would fuck him until he had his, and then I would feed. I would feed fiercely, with relish, gulping down his essence, gorging myself on him. He would be hollow, and I would be satiated at last, the culmination of this unification of my mind and body. Around my clit, over my clit. Around, over, around, over. It was coming, building and growing and just when I was almost there he stopped, climbed onto the bed, tipped me onto my side and slid his dick into me.

My girl cum flowed over his cock as I orgasmed. Just feeling that hard stick of flesh parting my insides, claiming space within me, pushing my inner lips in and then dragging them out. If there was ever a second of doubt about being on the recieving end of a fucking, it was gone then. I loved it.

He climbed onto me to pound my pussy some more. He wasn't gentle particularly, but he was attentive, reading my moans and switching up his thrusts to please me. Why did it feel so good, him spearing me over and over? Was it always this way for women, for me? It dwarfed the sensation of my greatest fuck as a man. Knowing that I was really a man - or more properly, also a man - added an extra level of kink to the situation. And my indescribable hunger was growing in me, powering the sex, leading me on this strange journey, making me so fucking wet for this stranger's cock. I imagined drinking this man's essence and found myself orgasming again, squirting over his dick and balls with abandon, squeezing my hot cunt around his shaft.

Dan began to grunt and grow flush, and I knew he was close to cumming. I was determined to swallow his cum and then drive my fang into his cock, so I slipped to my knees to jack his dick into my mouth. I was salivating. Now was the time.

The room went dark. Time slowed to a stop. Dan's rapid heartbeat stopped. I heard a hundred voices behind me, whispering in absolute union.

"We have let you down, my child. You should not have been left for all these moons, so fractured and lost." I turned. A woman stood before me, half in shadow, and I knew her straight away as the werewoman who had changed me so many years before. Over her shoulder I could dimly make out another silhouette, and another beyond her. 

"Heed us daughter. The store of virile power in men is limited, and can never be replenished. Taste only of this man, and he will be unchanged. Drink lightly of this man, and he will be like you and change only with the moon. Drink deeply, and you will rob him of all masculinity bar his member. Drink entirely, and he will be as a woman for all his remaining days. You bear the burden of his actions from this point on, as we bear yours."

I heard Dan's breathing restarting, and colour leeched back into the room. I turned back to the proud, twitching cock before me, opened my mouth and felt thick, hot sperm hose my mouth. It pooled on my tongue and I swallowed eagerly. It clung together glutinously as it slid toward my stomach. I had never tasted anything better. Volleys of cum continued, plastering my chin, throat and tits. I locked my lips around the hot cockhead and sucked. 

His eyes were closed. Now was my chance.

To be continued!