The following months among the Arctic Moon tribe passed in a haze of pain, pleasure, and humiliation. Dyri could convince no one to see him as the man he was. Everyone, even Inotogo, called him Chilam, and addressed him as a woman. Worse still, whatever magic the shaman had placed on him, his body was betraying him.
His hair grew longer, and softer. He no longer grew a beard, or hair anywhere on his chest, back, legs, and groin. A delicate curve dipped into his hips giving him a feminine figure. Even his voice had gone soft. No amount of begging, pleading, or threatening convinced the shaman to return his manhood. Frequently, such actions earned him a swift punishment.
When he tried to cut his growing locks, he was brutally punished by the shaman. Any time Dyri attempted to fight back against these mad creatures, he was met with forces far stronger than he had ever faced before.
Inotogo's begging for him to give up and go along with it went ignored until the night Dyri made a near-fatal mistake. During a coming-of-age ceremony for one of the young hunters, Dyri spat on the boy when a paw reached under his dress to fondle him. For his punishment, Dyri was tied to a post and every available male member of the tribe was allowed to take turns with him. The torment went on for hours. He had been left out in the cold with nothing but the tattered remains of his dress to guard against the biting wind.
Only one wolf among the tribe came to tend his wounds and offer him water once the torment was over. Aitu, one of the hunters who had brought him to the cursed place. His was a gentle soul, patient, and understanding. He graced the tent Dyri shared with Inotogo a few times, though only sometimes for the reason many of the males visited.
Dyri learned over time that Aitu and Inotogo had made a deal back when she first arrived. The tent was large enough for them to engage in hand-to-hand-- or hand-to-paw-- combat. They trained with knives and wrestled in the enclosed space away from the prying eyes of the tribe. After a while, Aitu invited Dyri to join them.
The training became a regular thing. A moment of relief and release Dyri desperately needed. It was the only thing that kept him sane.
Eventually, as the year came to an end, Inotogo left the tent to live with Torlarrin as his mate. The great brown wolf had finally won her over. Now, Dyri was alone in the tent.
Alone to be tormented by the males that came to use him as a pleasure mate. He was there to take in all of their lust and abuse. But Aitu's visits never stopped. He never demanded anything of that nature from Dyri, though, even in private the grey wolf called him Chilam and a female.
Something strange was happening the more Dyri grew to know Aitu. He grew excited in the promised days when Aitu would visit. He began to delight in feeling the hunter's fur against his skin, the scent in his nose, the rough pads of the strong paws. Dyri would eagerly wait for the next visit.
During the night, Dyri imagined Aitu would come to him. He imagined him coming to his bed, pressing him back into the soft mattress, and taking him. These thoughts made the days when the other males came to use him much easier to bear. But Dyri never thought Aitu would come to him like this.
That was until after the New Year's celebration. Dyri lay in his tent after an evening of servitude, feeding the tribes-people, filling goblets, and cleaning the dishes. He was bone tired, but he could not sleep. His mind was too full of Aitu. He had seen him at the party, his fur illuminated by the firelight. The wolf's dark eyes, a-glow with excitement and drink, damn near set Dyri's heart a-flutter.
The tent opened, causing Dyri to sit up in a panic. Late-night visitors never came with good intentions, and Dyri had learned this well. However, this time the visitor was Aitu. The hunter stood in the doorway, swaying on his paws as he stumbled into the dark interior.
"Aitu," Dyri whispered. He stood from the bed and went to the hunter to steady him. "Aitu, what brings you here so late?"
The wolf didn't reply. He merely flopped onto the bed, landing on his back with a grunt. His eyes were shut, but he patted the space next to him. "I did not want to be alone tonight."
Dyri's heart swelled with excitement. For the first time, Dyri did as he was told without a fight. He climbed onto the bed and lay next to the wolf. He took in a deep breath and could smell the fire and mead mingled into the hunter's fur. The wolf was warm and soft, and Dyri could feel the pounding of his heart as he rested a cheek on Aitu's chest.
A strong arm wrapped around his waist. Dyri was surprised by how much he enjoyed how Aitu's arm fit into that curve. Even more surprised by how desperately he wanted to kiss the hunter.
Sharp claws trailed along Dyri's soft flesh as Aitu idly caressed him. They caught in the thin fabric of his nightdress, lifting the fabric inch by inch with each pass. The act was so intimate, that Dyri was ashamed by the reaction of his body. He'd never felt a touch so gentle, yet nothing could stop the growing erection that pressed against Aitu's side.
"Is what you have pressed against me a true feeling?" Aitu's question carried a smile as his fingers teased the skin below Dyri's belly button.
The human groaned in response. He shifted slightly, only for his growing erection to brush against Aitu's furry thigh. "I... I've been thinking about you for some time."
Aitu stopped, earning a whimper from Dyri. "I have as well." He then rolled on top of the human and pressed his hips down, pinning him to the mattress. Aitu lowered his head to Dyri's ear and whispered, "I want you. I want to make love to you. Not rut you like the others-- Well, not right away."
The wolf chuckled. He ran his rough tongue along Dyri's neck as his paws pushed the night dress up to expose his smooth chest. "Such a beautiful creature. The shaman's magic has made your skin so soft, your hair silky, and your lips full and soft."
Aitu's tongue traced the line of Dyri's lips. He licked at the lower lip before easing it into his mouth. Dyri moaned, opening his mouth to let Aitu take over. He sucked at the thick muscle and pressed his tongue against it, savoring the lingering taste of mead.
Rough paw pads teased his nipples to stiff peaks. Dyri groaned and opened his legs wider to fit the wolf between them. His arms lifted above his head to let Aitu explore his body more fully. Dyri arched his back, pressing into the wolf's touch.
He never realized how much smaller he was compared to the hunter. Now he felt Aitu's sheath pressed against his rear, the tapered tip of his shaft rubbing against the sensitive pucker. He tensed as he felt the tip tease the entrance, ready for the wolf to enter him, but Aitu stopped short.
