A Girl and Her Furry, Little Problem by Imouto Kitten Nymphadora "Just call me Tonks" Lupin was both excited and nervous as she left the apothecary with a course of Wolf's Bane tucked under her arm. She had scraped by with the needed NEWT grade in potions to get into the Auror program, but this was a potion that gave even masters of the craft trouble and with Dumbledore no longer around to persuade Snape to brew it for the last Marauder, she had little option other than spend most of her savings if she wished to act upon the plans she had for her husband come the next full moon. Not to mention, that with the likelihood the Ministry would fall to the Death Eaters any day now, forcing most of the Order to go into hiding, this might be her only chance to act out one of her deepest fantasies unless both she and her husband survive the war, a fantasy that, as a metamorphmagus married to a werewolf, she was in a rather unique position to act out. ### Remus paced around the warded room set aside for his monthly transformation, dreading the impending rise of the full moon. His wife's purchase of Wolf's Bane for this night without consulting him had nearly lead to the couple's first row as man and wife, but Tonks managed to convince him to take the potion anyways, especially since its short shelf life meant all sales of the stuff were final. Though the sky wasn't visible from what amounted to a cell, albeit a rather comfortable one, the werewolf could feel it in his bones the moment the moon crested the horizon and his body started contorting unnaturally as the shift from man to beast took place. Once the change is complete, Moony rises on all fours and shakes vigorously to work the kinks out of his altered muscles. Though the beast still whispers in the back of his mind to break free from this chamber and go hunting, thanks to the Wolf's Bane, the man remains in control, and ignoring the beast, pads over to an area rug with the intention to curl up and sleep off the change. As he lays his head upon his forepaws and closes his eyes, Moony hears the creak of the door opening followed by quiet foot steps entering the room. Opening his eyes, the werewolf sees a human intruder in the process of resealing the chamber, and though she's wearing a form he's never seen on her before, he would know the scent of his wife anywhere. As she finishes locking herself in with her transformed husband, Tonks turns to face him, a warm smile and overly large eyes a brilliant blue to put the sky to shame meeting the wolf's gaze. These features are set into a child-like face framed by straight, short red hair to make any Weasley proud. Aside from being unusually short, Moony can make out little else of his wife's current form thanks to the crimson cloak concealing all but her face. Keeping the hooded cloak closed with her free hand, Tonks brandishes her wand clutched in a small hand and executes a rather complicated wand movement as she incants a spell. When done, her wand is pointed at the werewolf and the beast is hit with a purple splash of light, though the effect is not immediately obvious. As Tonks dropps to all fours, her cloak drapes around her to keep her hidden, and she starts crawling towards her husband. When he backs up, she says teasingly, "Is the big, bad wolf scared of a little girl?" Thinking himself dangerous to be around even with the wolf's bane, Moony makes to growl threateningly, but instead the words, "Why are you hear, Dora?! You shouldn't be anywhere near me on this dangerous night!" escape the werewolf's throat. Trying to look stern only to produce a cute pout given the youthful features she's chosen, Tonks replies, "I was hoping to spend a romantic evening with my husband and maybe finally prove to him that I don't just tolerate, but accept, no love everything about him, including the fact he spends one night a month transformed into a majestic creature that could easily tear me apart." Caught off gard by her reply, the wolf asks, "Wait, you can understand me?" "Yes," replies Tonks, " that spell I cast on you was something I found in the black library. It grants the target the ability to speak human tongue. It's a bit impractical as it has an overly long incantation and wand motion, can only affect a single target, and can't grant the ability to understand human tongue, but at least it lets me understand your side of the conversation during a full moon." "Even if we can talk to each other like this, and even with the Wolf's Bane making sure I don't try to hurt you, I could still infect you!" cries the werewolf, trying to vanish into the corner furthest from his wife. "You don't have to worry about that either," replies the metamorphmagus, "I also found a spell in the Black Library that renders human skin impervious to physical injury for twelve hours. Even if you wanted too, you couldn't bite or scratch hard enough to break skin, and by the time I'm vulnerable again, you'll be human again." Giggling she adds, "I guess my bigoted ancestors were good for something." Though still on edge, the werewolf makes no further attempt to escape as his wife approaches and places a kiss on his nose before hugging him around the neck as a child might do with a large dog. Thanks to their close proximity, Moony can now see inside the cloak to see that his wife is completely naked beneath the crimson garment, and despite her youthful face and short stature, has taken on a rather seductive form with breasts that, while modest in absolute terms are quite ample on her currently slight frame and perky to the point of defying gravity. She's also assumed gentle curves that are to die for, and her silky skin is free of blemish and any sight of body hair, and though he can't see it from this angle, he suspects she's given her self a rather plump little rump that would drive nearly any man wild. Scratching her transformed husband behind the ears in a way she knows always got her cousin to relax whenever he was Padfoot, Tonks exclaims, "Oh my, Moony, what big eyes you have!" Starting to relax and realizing that her current form is at least partially inspired by a muggle fairy tale he last heard Lily telling to a infant Harry, remus pushes the thoughts of his dead friends from his mind and decides to humor his wife, "All the better to admire your beauty, my dear." Her smile widening at her husband starting to unwind, Tonks drops to the floor and rolls beneath the large wolf, her cloak spreading out under her as she reaches up and runs her fingers through the surprisingly soft fur of Moony's underbelly in all the places she knows leaves him shivering in pleasure when in his human form. Working her way up the majestic beast's chest, Tonks slides along the floor until she's staring up at the underside of her husband's muzzle. Running her tiny hands along his forelimbs, she exclaims, "OH my, Moony, what strong forelegs you have!" Continueing to play along, Moony replies, "All the better to hold you in place, my dear." Before using his front paws to pin her arms to the floor, the outstretched limbs fitting perfectly in the gap between the pad of the wolf's palms and the pads of his front toes. Taking advantage of the position of dominance he now finds himself in, his lupine eyes roam over Tonks's borrowed form of Little, Red Riding Hood, taking in every detail of her petite but irresistibly cute form and the satisfied smile on her face. As Lupin leers at his wife, his tongue dangles from his muzzle, and she takes the opportunity to declare, "Oh my, Moony, but what a long tongue you have!" "All the better to lick you with!" cries the werewolf before attacking her face with his tongue like an overly eager puppy greeting its master. She giggles uncontrollably and squirms futilely from her proned position beneath the beast's massive paws, but Lupin doesn't content himself with licking her face, soon working his way down to run his tongue along her collar bone, to swirl it around the small, but perfectly round breasts she's currently wearing, and eventually to her core, all the while being careful to avoid touching her skin with his sharp teeth despite her earlier assurances that she's currently invulnerable to having her skin pierced. And when he does reach her core, it's more wonderful than the metamorphmagus could have imagined, for while her husband had been a quick learner in his human form, the longer tongue and protruding muzzle of his lupine form allow him to reach further inside her than any human could ever manage with the possible exception of another metamorphmagus. Her toes curl and her fists clench as Moony's tongue washes over every square millimeter of her passage, reaching all the way to her cervix and lighting up her every nerve as she cries out incoherently from the pleasure, and when her werwolf lover brings her to climax,, Tonks has no recourse but to curve her spine and throw back her head as she lets out an animalistic howl one would expect from the beast and not the diminutive human pinned beneath him. As her climax subsides, Tonks collapses bonelessly beneath Moony and the werewolf nuzzles her neck affectionately. Once she's regained her senses, Tonks glances down to see that Moony's lupine member has emerged from its sheath, nearly three times the length and girth it has when he's human and standing out quite well against his gray fur thanks to being a crimson almost to match the cloak that is Tonks's only article of clothing. Though her metamorph abilities mean she can take pretty much anything being shoved up her pussy, Tonks gulps audibly in an attempt to seem as intimidated by the massive member pointed at her as someone of her assumed proportions should be as she declares, "Oh my, Moony, what a magnificent cock you have!" "All the better to fuck you with!" cries the werewolf, letting the beast take over just a bit now that its firmly convinced that the delectable morsel before it is its mate and not prey. Freeing Tonks's arms from beneath his paws, Moony uses one powerful forepaw to first roll his wife over on her stomach and then to flip up her crimson cloak to expose her backside, and as he expected, the plump, little rump that is part of the form she chose for the evening. Moony moves forward until he can prod his tip at his wife's rear, and realizing his intentions, she unclasps the collar of the cloak to toss it aside before pushing herself onto all fours. Reaching back with one hand, she guides his tip to her entrance, dripping both from her earlier climaxes and his ministrations as well as with anticipation to be stretched around that massive, magnificent member that would tear a normal girl asunder, but which her status as a metamorphmagus will allow her to enjoy fully. Though he knows intellectually that her unique talents will allow her to rearrange her insides to accomodate him, Moony moves as slowly and gently as possible as he slides inside his wife, only getting about half his length before his tip is nestled against her cervix. Willing that intermost portal to spread open in invitation and her other internal organs to move aside, Tonks pushes back against the wolfcock within her, inviting the tip into her womb and only stopping once her netherlips are stretched around the root of the bright red organ. Bracing both hands against the floor and willing the muscles in all four limbs to become as dense as her powers will allow, Tonks encourages, "Come on, Moony, rut me like you would a werewolf bitch! Let me experience the full force of the beast's mating instincts!" Starting to slowly hump his wife, Moony replies, "Dora, I don't want to hur-" "I can take it!" cries the metamorphmagus, cutting off her husband's protests as she squeezes his entire length just short of being painfully tight. It takes a bit more convincing from his wife, but soon enough the large wolf is repeatedly ramming his massive member deep into his wife's currently tiny body with force that would have a normal girl reduced to a smear on the carpet and even with her metamorph powers reenforcing her every bone and muscle and the effects of the impervious skin charm, it's all Tonks can do to keep herself propped up on knees and elbows as she pants like a bitch in heat, all thoughts scrambled by the all consuming pleasure. As the pair near a shared climax, Tonks glances back though her arms and legs to seee the grapefruit-sized testicles dangling between Moony's hindlegs and exclaims, her mouth running on autopilot, "Oh my, Moony, what big balls you have!" "All the better to fill you with seed!" cries the werewolf in response, though Tonks doesn't really hear his words as a mind shattering climax crashes over her. At the same time, Moony's knot swells bigger than his balls just inside her entrance as his tip, buried deep in her womb explodes with an eruption of hot werewolf semen. Both let out animalistic howls of pleasure as her passage molds itself around his cumming cock both to ensure he won't be extracting his knot until its fully deflated and to milk his balls of every last spermatozoa. Craneing his neck, Moony attempts to instinctually close his muzzle around her shoulder in a clumsy attempt to deliver a mating bite, but thankfully, the inpervious skin charm does its job, allowing him to only grip the shoulder without drawing blood and leaving Tonks feeling only a pleasant pressure in the area, a fact that Remus will be grateful for once he's human again since the bite would otherwise have taken his wife's arm clean off on top of infecting her if she managed to not bleed to death. As massive as Moony's cock and balls are, his lupine load is greater still, liters of werewolf spunk stretching the metamorphmagus's womb to the point that she looks nine months pregnant with an entire litter of cubs. As they come down from their shared climax, wolf and wife pant heavily from the exertion for several minutes before coming to a silent agreement that its time to sleep. Stilled tied at the crotch, the pair carefully shift position so they are both laying on their side upon the rug, the metamorphmagus, still in her little red riding hood form curled around her cum-inflated belly and her werewolf husband spooned up behind her and curled protectively around his mate. As Tonks drifts off to sleep, the last thought that crosses her mind is wondering if her current, cum-inflated state is an accurate preview of what she would look like on the verge of birthing her husband's child.