Finding Release With Werewolves Pt 01

This is a short work of erotic fiction containing furry, or anthropomorphic, characters, which are animals that either demonstrate human intelligence or walk on two legs, for the purposes of these tales. It is a thriving and growing fandom in which creators are prevalent in art and writing especially.

All work is fiction intended for fantasy only, regardless of content, and consent must always be acquired when engaging in any sex act with another adult.

Please note that all characters are clearly over eighteen and written as such in all stories.

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On the edge of human-occupied space, population of a few hundred million.

At least Mickael had been able to stay on his own planet for his training in using his powers, though that was not always the case for other powerful Psions. His powers had erupted sharply, though he had more than enough time to think about it as he knelt to slide his suitcase away under the bed.

"I guess this is where I live now."

At the Paranormal Affairs Centre. That made sense and, frankly, he had expected to end up there one day, for there had been other Psions in his family, though it was not passed down from generation to generation. Moreover, it tended to show itself sporadically through genetic bloodlines, though sometimes there was no rhyme or reason to how it appeared. Research was still being done on that side of Psions, though their uses and abilities in the world had plenty of evidence and experience.

It was strange, however, how things had happened to him and Mickael still had to really dig into the lead-up to his awakening as a Psion. It had been a perfectly normal morning for him, having finished his first semester at university, learning about adulthood, even living in the student hall accommodation at that time. Mickael, however, had been truly fortunate indeed in the fact he had been visiting his parents back at his childhood home when his awakening had happened.

He didn't remember any of it. One moment, Mickael had been eating toast and jam at breakfast, wondering if he was going to be cheeky and ask for a cooked breakfast, something a little meatier, and the next moment he'd been blinking up at his parents from the kitchen floor.

"Unff..."

The groan still crackled through him, as if he was hearing himself, even in the memory of it, from very far away. His parents had leaned over him, not knowing what to do, trying to help him pick himself up off the floor while a man who he had never seen before, dressed in a smart, navy suit looked down at him, from a distance. Several werewolves had been with him, though they were less smartly dressed in intimidating armoured suits, even helmets on their heads that clearly had been especially designed for werewolves, considering the muzzle protection that benefitted them too. The guns they had clasped, well...he could have done without those being pointed at him.

Mickael flinched, squirming at the memory. He'd been told that he had awakened as a Psion and that the man, though he never got his name, was an agent from The Ministry of Paranormal Affairs. Of course, everyone knew about that, even if few actually ever went there or had it apply to their lives in any way at all, though he still blinked slowly, dumbly, a dull crackling in the back of his head. It was as if his brain had been fried, perhaps an electric shock... Yet there was no burst of energy in him at all, no frenzied beating of his heart.

On the contrary, he felt slow and dull and sluggish, as if he had woken up from a deep yet unfulfilling sleep. He hadn't thought much of it at all.

Yet he had seen the werewolves, in that style of armour, before, recognising them from video clips online and commercials regarding their kind, what they were set to guard.

"Come here."

The agent had at least been kind in helping him stand fully, though his legs had struggled to support his body.

"You have awakened as a Psion," he'd said. "Do you remember what happened?"

Mickael nipped anxiously at the inside of his cheek and shook his head. Should he have remembered. A Psion? Really?

The man sighed.

"Okay... That is perfectly normal. When you awakened, your parents have stated that you went into a fugue state, not seeing what was around you or perceiving it as your norm."

Mickael, understandably, had baulked, but the agent held up his hand, staying his alarm.

"Please, this is all quite standard. When you began carving symbols into the table here..." The agent nodded, indicating the evidence. "You chanted at it, rendering the table both floating and glowing... Yes, that is what the transcript here says. So, your parents called the emergency aid line, of course, who recognised the signs of Psion awakening. Once they contacted Paranormal Affairs, standard procedure was enacted. There is nothing to worry about."

"I... Uh... I'm so sorry, I didn't mean..."

"No, no," the agent had reassured him, clasping his shoulder lightly, though Mickael noticed that his touch did not linger for long, and that his hand was gloved: that was odd. "It was not as bad as I'm sure it seems in the retelling. There have been many far worse awakenings. Why... I set my bedroom on fire when I awakened! Back then, it was quite a spectacle."

That, at least, had got Mickael to crack a smile. In remembering what happened, he still cringed. He had never meant to scare his parents so badly.

"Since you have awakened," the man had informed him. "You will need to register and got to stay at the planet's Paranormal Affairs Centre. Basic training will be undergone there and, after, you will go to the Sol System for formal training on your powers."

That was standard, but it didn't make it any easier for him to know that he was going away from friends and family and things there, back home, would never be the same. Forget going to university for his second semester!

It had turned his whole life upside down and he didn't think that there was any way, none at all, to ever get things back on track in how he wanted. Yet... Wasn't being a Psion far better than carrying on at university? He had worked so hard on his studies, putting nearly all of his time and focus and energy into them: it just seemed a waste to let that all fall by the wayside, as if it had never even been important at all.

After having been given enough time to pack his things and say goodbye to his parents, who didn't really seem to know what on earth they were or were not supposed to say...that was it. He was gone, leaving for the centre.

And that brought him to that moment, standing in front of the bed, wondering what he was supposed to do next.

Continued in part two...