electrosheep93
New member
I was thinking along the lines of Zazie Skymm, Rika fane, Jia Lissa or Matty Mila for the scenario but other actresses would be fine. I would say this would be better better as a new section, but this could be added to the futa section.
The scenario is a character who is infected with lycanthropy. Either newly turned. About to face her first change but half expected through research, or has been a werewolf for a while and has a routine.
returning home, clearly agitated, there is a full moon. She is running late. Tonight, of all nights, she’d gotten caught in an endless meeting. Racing against a biological clock she could never truly outrun.
Normally, character meticulously prepared for the oncoming transformation. Normally she would leave for a secluded spot, drive to the woods out of town, bring supplies such as food and spare clothes, strip down to avoid the painful destruction of her clothes. Tonight, there was no time for rituals. She would have to change in the apartment
She is wearing a black jacket and skirt, white blouse. Sheer pantyhose and low-cut black ballet flats.
She is clearly uncomfortable, breathing strained. She takes her jacket off as she is sweating from the heat. With a wave of dizziness she decided to stagger to the bathroom, sweat dripping down her hair and soaking into her clothes. The door barely closed behind her as another pain in her gut ****** her to hunch over and moan.
“How could I’ve been so stupid!” she hisses, luckily no one's there. With her back to the bathroom door, she began to hyperventilate, sweat beading from for forehead, her skin flushed with a sudden heat.
With a few clumsy steps, she stumbles to the sink, her hands tensing and spasming as a shiver ran up her arm. She moans as her pantyhose began to ladder downwards as her thighs and then calves began to swell. Like clockwork, the seems of her blouse begin to snap, her spine pressed halfway down causing a snap and a scream from Samantha. The wave released her for the moment.
With a few gasps and struggling grunts, the character begins to undress, pulling her skirt down, and noticing a tail.
Her muscles begin to enlarge and grow fur. Desperate for relief the character chooses to tear her blouse off. which is now completely damp and strained against her growing body.
Next were her ballet flats, already a nuisance, became a struggle to kick off. She could hear the ripping of the flats as her feet begins to grow. Once removed, claws had already formed cutting through her pantyhose.
Meanwhile, the character’s housemate, oblivious to the horrific drama, enters the apartment. She too, finishing a day at work. She notices the character's jacket discarded on the floor. It is out of character for the Character, who was usually meticulous about tidiness. Realising her housemate is in the bathroom. Hearing the heavy panting and moaning on the other side of the door, asked if she is ok.
Inside, the character, or what is left of her, slams her fist against the door in a futile gesture.
The housemate is alarmed. The handle won’t budge.
She too pounds on the door with increased urgency.
The sounds inside intensified. A guttural roar mixed with the sickening crunch of bone. The housemate believes it's a medical emergency.
Driven by panic, she threw herself against the door, again and again, until the flimsy lock (the bar only partial across) comes free, the door opens.
What greeted her wasn't anything she could have imagined in her wildest nightmares.
The housemate sees a partially transformed character.
The housemate stands frozen, paralyzed by disbelief and terror. The character turns to look at the housemate, sniffing the air. A low growl rumbled in its chest. recognising the housemate. A flicker of remorse, of desperate apology, flashed in her eyes. "Run," she tried to ***** the word out, but only a guttural snarl escaped her.
Finally, instinct kicks in. The housemate screams, and stumbles, tripping over the character’s discarded skirt. She manages to get out the room and goes to shut the door but a transformed arm, longs claws rips through the housemates shoulder.
The housemate manages to shut the door and wedges something to keep it shut, but a wave of dizziness, mirroring the agony she felt. An unfamiliar heat spread through her body. She gasped for breath, her lungs burning, her heart pounding in her chest like a trapped bird.
She is wearing very similar clothes to the main character. Her work suit strained against her growing body. The housemate goes on tiptoes, falling against the back of the sofa for support. As her feet enlarge shedding her ballet flats that are too tight for her feet.
Her bones cracked and shifted. Her muscles tore and reformed. Fur sprouted from her skin, thick and coarse. Her hands and feet elongated, transforming into powerful paws tipped with razor-sharp claws. Her face contorted, her features melting away, replaced by a snout filled with pointed teeth.
The housemate screamed again, for the last time, the transformation was complete.
The two she-wolves stood facing each other in the wreckage of the living room, surrounded by torn clothes and shattered debris.
The two she-wolves met in a tangle of fur and muscle, a dance of dominance and submission. The air filled with their panting breaths and guttural cries. The transformation had stripped away their humanity, leaving only the purest, most animalistic desires.
Later, as the first rays of dawn crept through the grimy windows of the apartment, two figures lay entwined in a heap of discarded clothing. The remnants of the night's carnage were scattered around them, torn fabric, shattered debri.
The character wakes first, her head throbbing, her body aching. The memory of the night before washed over her in a wave of nausea and shame. She looked down at the person beside her, still asleep, her housemate.
Guilt gnawed at her, a cold, persistent pain that overshadowed even the physical discomfort. She had condemned Emily to this… this monstrous existence. She had stolen her life, her future, her very soul. Her eyes fluttering open. "It's okay," character she whispered, her voice hoarse and trembling. "We'll get through this. Together."
Whether that was a promise or a lie, she didn't know. But it was all she had to offer. And in the darkness of their shared curse, that had to be enough.
Attached is pic primals fantasies, dark reflections for inspiration.
The scenario is a character who is infected with lycanthropy. Either newly turned. About to face her first change but half expected through research, or has been a werewolf for a while and has a routine.
returning home, clearly agitated, there is a full moon. She is running late. Tonight, of all nights, she’d gotten caught in an endless meeting. Racing against a biological clock she could never truly outrun.
Normally, character meticulously prepared for the oncoming transformation. Normally she would leave for a secluded spot, drive to the woods out of town, bring supplies such as food and spare clothes, strip down to avoid the painful destruction of her clothes. Tonight, there was no time for rituals. She would have to change in the apartment
She is wearing a black jacket and skirt, white blouse. Sheer pantyhose and low-cut black ballet flats.
She is clearly uncomfortable, breathing strained. She takes her jacket off as she is sweating from the heat. With a wave of dizziness she decided to stagger to the bathroom, sweat dripping down her hair and soaking into her clothes. The door barely closed behind her as another pain in her gut ****** her to hunch over and moan.
“How could I’ve been so stupid!” she hisses, luckily no one's there. With her back to the bathroom door, she began to hyperventilate, sweat beading from for forehead, her skin flushed with a sudden heat.
With a few clumsy steps, she stumbles to the sink, her hands tensing and spasming as a shiver ran up her arm. She moans as her pantyhose began to ladder downwards as her thighs and then calves began to swell. Like clockwork, the seems of her blouse begin to snap, her spine pressed halfway down causing a snap and a scream from Samantha. The wave released her for the moment.
With a few gasps and struggling grunts, the character begins to undress, pulling her skirt down, and noticing a tail.
Her muscles begin to enlarge and grow fur. Desperate for relief the character chooses to tear her blouse off. which is now completely damp and strained against her growing body.
Next were her ballet flats, already a nuisance, became a struggle to kick off. She could hear the ripping of the flats as her feet begins to grow. Once removed, claws had already formed cutting through her pantyhose.
Meanwhile, the character’s housemate, oblivious to the horrific drama, enters the apartment. She too, finishing a day at work. She notices the character's jacket discarded on the floor. It is out of character for the Character, who was usually meticulous about tidiness. Realising her housemate is in the bathroom. Hearing the heavy panting and moaning on the other side of the door, asked if she is ok.
Inside, the character, or what is left of her, slams her fist against the door in a futile gesture.
The housemate is alarmed. The handle won’t budge.
She too pounds on the door with increased urgency.
The sounds inside intensified. A guttural roar mixed with the sickening crunch of bone. The housemate believes it's a medical emergency.
Driven by panic, she threw herself against the door, again and again, until the flimsy lock (the bar only partial across) comes free, the door opens.
What greeted her wasn't anything she could have imagined in her wildest nightmares.
The housemate sees a partially transformed character.
The housemate stands frozen, paralyzed by disbelief and terror. The character turns to look at the housemate, sniffing the air. A low growl rumbled in its chest. recognising the housemate. A flicker of remorse, of desperate apology, flashed in her eyes. "Run," she tried to ***** the word out, but only a guttural snarl escaped her.
Finally, instinct kicks in. The housemate screams, and stumbles, tripping over the character’s discarded skirt. She manages to get out the room and goes to shut the door but a transformed arm, longs claws rips through the housemates shoulder.
The housemate manages to shut the door and wedges something to keep it shut, but a wave of dizziness, mirroring the agony she felt. An unfamiliar heat spread through her body. She gasped for breath, her lungs burning, her heart pounding in her chest like a trapped bird.
She is wearing very similar clothes to the main character. Her work suit strained against her growing body. The housemate goes on tiptoes, falling against the back of the sofa for support. As her feet enlarge shedding her ballet flats that are too tight for her feet.
Her bones cracked and shifted. Her muscles tore and reformed. Fur sprouted from her skin, thick and coarse. Her hands and feet elongated, transforming into powerful paws tipped with razor-sharp claws. Her face contorted, her features melting away, replaced by a snout filled with pointed teeth.
The housemate screamed again, for the last time, the transformation was complete.
The two she-wolves stood facing each other in the wreckage of the living room, surrounded by torn clothes and shattered debris.
The two she-wolves met in a tangle of fur and muscle, a dance of dominance and submission. The air filled with their panting breaths and guttural cries. The transformation had stripped away their humanity, leaving only the purest, most animalistic desires.
Later, as the first rays of dawn crept through the grimy windows of the apartment, two figures lay entwined in a heap of discarded clothing. The remnants of the night's carnage were scattered around them, torn fabric, shattered debri.
The character wakes first, her head throbbing, her body aching. The memory of the night before washed over her in a wave of nausea and shame. She looked down at the person beside her, still asleep, her housemate.
Guilt gnawed at her, a cold, persistent pain that overshadowed even the physical discomfort. She had condemned Emily to this… this monstrous existence. She had stolen her life, her future, her very soul. Her eyes fluttering open. "It's okay," character she whispered, her voice hoarse and trembling. "We'll get through this. Together."
Whether that was a promise or a lie, she didn't know. But it was all she had to offer. And in the darkness of their shared curse, that had to be enough.
Attached is pic primals fantasies, dark reflections for inspiration.
