Date: Sat, 11 Feb 2023 22:41:20 -0600
From: Timothy K. Craft <TimKCraft@gmail.com>
Subject: The Beast in James Chapter 1

"James, I need you to listen to me. Taking away this part of yourself is an
extremely serious decision. We have no idea what kind of side-effects it
could have." Ollie warned, even has he started moving around the kitchen
opening cabinets and pulling out the ingredients he would need for the
concoction.

	"I hear what you're saying. Really, I do. But I can't live like
this. You're the only one that can help me." James said from the other side
of the kitchen island. As he realized Ollie was making the potion despite
his protests, he flashed a grateful grin. "Thank you."

Ollie just shook his head and sighed. "I understand wanting to change
something about yourself" He started tossing ingredients into a large round
sauce pot and clicking on one of the burners. "But." He continued. "The
wolf side of you isn't just every full moon. It's part of the man that you
are too. It's not just something you can cut out."

James flashed his grin again and let out a little laugh. "Part of the man
that I am eh?" He squinted his eyes in a parody of a smoldering
gaze. Despite its comical undertones Ollie still froze in his tracks. He
let his eyes wonder down James's face and onto the swell of his arms and
chest. Fuck, Ollie thought, the wolf part of him is undeniable. It wasn't
just the way his muscles made every shirt look a little too small, or the
soft sandy fur clinging to his arms. There was something else about
James. A magnetism that no amount of mindfulness spell work and
self-control Ollie could muster would stop him from being drawn in.

	With a significant amount of effort, Ollie shook off the effects
and focused at the task at hand. As the potion began to bubble and simmer
he let himself look up again. "Here is the spell I'm putting together for
you." He let his voice drop lower and the final handful of ingredients were
added to the mixture. "May he have what he needs to tame the beast inside."
He half whispered the potion itself. His face went serene as he
concentrated on the brew, carefully straining a portion of the mixture into
three separate vials.

"Take one of these every night for the next three nights. When you wake up
on the third morning you should have the cure for your lycanthropy at
hand."

	"The third night? But the first night of the full moon is tonight."
James said carefully. "So I still have to have a wolfie night tonight?"

	"No idea." Ollie said shortly, causing the hope on James's face to
fall.

	"What do you mean you have no idea?" James spat out. "I thought you
were the witchy expert."

 	"Well it's not exactly an exact science." Ollie replied with a
shrug. "I'm confident the spell will work as intended. But... you know... I
don't know exactly how it will get there."

	"You say "exactly" a lot for someone who gave me not a single solid
bit of information, sis."

 	"Ugh, don't call me sis." Ollie laughed. "Just take the
potion. But... you know... make sure you're sure. And maybe prepare for
another transformation."

	Ollie dropped the three vials into James's hand, they glowed
slightly green in the dim morning light of the kitchen.

	"Thanks, Ollie." James stared down at the vials for a moment before
closing his fist around them and leaving his friend's apartment. Something
in his gut reminded him that this was exactly what he needed to do.

 	James He had a few hours left until the sun went down, still enough
time to complete his pre-transformation routine. He shucked off his shirt,
soaked from walking through the summer heat. Reflected in the bedroom
mirror were his cascade of muscles interrupted only by one solid scar
running from just below his neck to the point where his body hair thickened
and disappeared into his waistband. He remembered feeling a small rush of
relief that the scare was positioned perfectly so he could still wear tank
tops without drawing attention to the puckered tissue. He laughed softly to
himself now, as he traced his finger along the length of the scar, it had
been a small joy in an otherwise dark collection of memory.

 	James flexed once, for good measure, laughing to himself, and
caught a glimpse of the photo sitting on the dresser near the mirror. His
grin wavered as he stepped closer to the smiling picture of Steven watching
him. He kept the photo of Steven close on purpose as a reminder of what
this curse had taken from him. James touched the photo lightly, tracing his
finger along Steven's spikey blonde unkempt hair down to the light glaring
off his large glasses. Had it really been five years since their summer
trip to Seattle? That means three years had passed since... James shook off
the memory, he couldn't dwell too long, and he needed to get to work.

	Oliver recommended James take his new `medicine' as soon as he got
home, giving his body time to experience any unexpected side effects. So
far the luminescent liquid sat is his stomach without any ill effects, so
he felt comfortable heading out for the gym. His first stop in his pre full
moon ritual. He finished changing quickly, grabbed his gym bag and was out
the door- the photo of Steven watched him as he left.

...

	After years of dealing with his condition, James had found ways to
minimize the ferocity of the beast within. The more he committed to his
bestial nature in the days leading up to the transformation, the more
control he was able to keep on his nights as a wolf hybrid. Tapping into
his bestial nature meant going harder at the gym, pushing his body to it's
limits, followed by a feast of dangerously raw meats. Over the years he'd
learned to feel the point where his body was tired enough and full enough
to satiate the beast within.

	His followed the routine to the letter, rarely with any
deviation. It began with a brisk run from his apartment to the gym several
miles away. Then he'd spend nearly two hours at the gym, before another
run; this time to the grocery store. He'd stock up on fatty cuts of beef
and pork, and then finish his last run back to the apartment where he would
lightly prepare and consume his meal. Finally, just as the sun was setting
and the moon was starting to rise, he would take care of last carnal need.

	Every month around the full moon James followed this routine to the
letter. There was room for deviation, no room to let his discipline
slip. Managing the beast was a delicate balance between self-control and
indulgence in his animalistic urges. Even satiated, the beast was
unpredictable, but the routine he had cultivated over the years ensured the
damage done was minimal.

	Even at the gym, he did his best to stick to the same schedule. The
same machines, in the same order, for the same amount of time. There was a
meditative quality to this systematic approach, another balance of control
where-ever he could muster it. As James moved from machine to machine his
ticked off the boxes mentally, bringing himself deeper into his mind,
deeper into his preparation to become the beast.

The gym was unusually crowed this afternoon, having a swell of people equal
to what James was used to seeing at the beginning of the month; when New
Year's resolutions were still fresh in people's mind. The increase in crowd
make his heartbeat faster, as if the beast felt it was being closed in
on. So far though, James had been able to keep it under wraps, saved by
being able to stick to his usual machines. But as James made his way to the
Pec-Deck, the beast roared stronger in his chest.

The machines James usually used- the one in the corner furthest away from
the crowds- was currently occupied. There was room for flexibility in
James' gym schedule, he'd had to switch machines or the order before, but
as his eyes fell upon the man using his machine he had trouble keeping the
feeling that surged up through him in check. It wasn't so much that the
machine was occupied, it was what the guy was doing that caused the rush of
emotions. Instead of using the machine to, you know, workout, the guy was
instead taking selfies of himself on the equipment. As James walked up the
dude had one arm stretched out gripping his phone; with the other hand he
pulled down the top of his tank-top revealing a mat of thick dark hair
coating his chest. He had his mouth open, and was pouting at the camera as
he snapped shot after shot- ranging from completely silly to more serious
and... sexy?

That's when James realized it wasn't just anger he felt rising, he also
felt a heat he hasn't felt in a while. The dude on his machine came off as
a little cocky, boarding on arrogant, someone who maybe needed to put back
in line. James mind started to wander to all the ways he could teach this
guy a lesson. James adjusted his shorts and stepped forward.

"Hey. Are you actually going to use the machine or are you just going to
fill up your Instagram feed all day?" James called out.

The dude jumped, almost dropping his phone. His cocky attitude dropped
almost instantly, and a flush of red came onto his cheek. "Fuck, he can be
sexy and cute." James thought. He enjoyed watching the man in front of him
scramble to catch his phone and clumsily climb to his feet.

"Sorry babe!" He exclaimed jumping up. "Looks like I got carried away." He
said.

	James took in his full presence now. They were roughly the same
height, but the similarities stopped there. The man's hair was dark where
James' was light, he was sporting a short beard that suited his long face
nicely, and had deep dark eyes framed by expressive eyebrows. His tank top
and shirt were stained with sweat, proving that he wasn't here just to take
selfies- at least not exclusively. He gave James a lopsided grin and raised
his eyebrows as he gestured dramatically to the workout machine. "Sexy and
cute." James thought again.

"Well then." Was all James could say, eliciting a slight chuckle from the
other man. He moved out of the way so James could settle himself into the
machine. James leaned against the pads to center himself back into his
routine when he realized the man was still standing there, looming over him
slightly. James looked up at him with an annoyed expression.

"I was... uh... going to see if you needed a spot." He said, his face
flushing again as he tried to bring back his cocky expression.

James just kept staring at him, this wasn't the kind of machine for that.

"I'm Vince, by the way." The man continued when James didn't respond. He
said it with a little wave of him hand. James felt his annoyance
slip. "Can't he go be cute somewhere else? I need to focus."

A long moment passed without either of them saying anything.

"I'll uh, just go." Vince said with another flick of his hands. He had an
almost bouncy step to his walk as he turned away. James caught himself
staring, taking in the tattoos that cascaded down his arms down to the
outline of Vince's shorts, which clung tight enough that James could make
out the thick bands of Vince's jockstrap. James had to adjust his shorts
again, the annoyance and anger full subsided now. He felt the beast inside
him, from a different place this time, reach up an impulse.

	"James!" He called to Vince suddenly, causing him to freeze and
turn back quizzically. "My name is James." He said, softer this time. Vince
flashed another goofy grin.

"James." Vince repeated. "Maybe I'll see you here again. Promise not to let
my selfie photoshoot hold up the machine next time." With that he spun back
around and was gone.

James let him gaze linger for a moment too long before turning his
attention back inward and continuing to satisfy his beast.

....

	Later, when the day was giving way to evening, after James had
finished his feast- the image of Vince creeped back into his mind. James
thought of his grin, how with just a subtle change he could shift from sexy
and cocky, to goofy and sweet. James opened the large window of his
apartment, the one that connected to the fire escape. He felt the humid
southern winds blow over his face while the image of Vince shifted in his
mind. James started to remove his clothes as he felt the beast starting to
stir with in him.

 	James remembered the way Vince's shorts clung to his rear, as he
took a seat on the floor near the window. James let his hand wander down
his scarred chest slowly, then onto his thighs, before finally settling on
his cock. He was surprised to discover how hard he already was- the image
of Vince burned into his mind. It wasn't long before he could feel the
beast taking control- his slow steady strokes began picking up pace. James
gave into the beast, now letting his steady control of the day drop. He
took a deep breath as his scenes came alive, and with it the memories of
his brief encounter with Vince took on a new life. He could see clearly
beads of sweat clinging to the hair under Vince's arm, the flash of roguish
sexuality in his eyes. James let a deep guttural growl escape his throat as
he gripped his member tighter, feeling the beast rise up quicker and
quicker in his gut, his brain, his going. He could smell his own sweat and
musk, and it merged with the memory of Vince. He realized he could smell
Vince as if he were in the room, as if he was there grunting beside
James. James imagined Vince's eyes rolled back in his head as they explored
each other's flesh. The hair on James' body stood on end, as the last of
his control started to leave him. Soon he would only be the beast. In his
mind, Vince smelt sweeter than him, but he was having trouble
distinguishing whose scent was whose.

The tension in James body was almost unbearable, his breath became more
ragged as his hand moved quicker and quicker up and down his shaft. The
tension spread throughout his body and he imagined it was Vince who now
pumped furiously at his cock. James ran one hand along his chest and abs,
revealing in the soreness he felt there. He started to thrust his hips up
an down as he stroked. Finally, he saw that cocky grin in his mind
again. The scent of Vince was almost real to him, and he swore he could
imagine what Vince's skin would feel like. James breathed harder and harder
as he thrust into his own hand, imaging it was Vince's hand instead. He let
himself imagine how Vince would look clad only in his jock, his own cock
standing at attention. The beast roared up in response.

	James could bear the tension no longer. With another growl, he
thrust into his hand one last time. The tension released, spilling seed
forward an impossible distance. He felt as if he had no control over his
body. He felt the sweat pooling down his back, the smell of his own musk
stronger than ever in his nose. Wave after wave of pleasure came over
James, his body jerked and contorted as more ropes of cum came from him.

	There was no moment of calm for James, he saw the light of the moon
pooling in from his open window only for a moment. As soon as his body was
spent the beast assumed full control. His waves of pleasure suddenly mixed
with pain as he was thrown onto the ground. He felt his muscles and bones
splinter and expand as a roar, a pained screamed, escaped his throat. The
beast flooded into ever part of his body causing him to spasm and jerk on
the solid wood of his apartment. He was vaguely aware of his shadow in the
moonlight, twisted beyond recognition, sprouting hair and claws. Soon there
was no trace of James, only the beast remained.