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![Digi-Howl [STORY]](http://d.furaffinity.net/art/bunnypen/1741462959/1741462959.bunnypen_1717260506_d33rt33th_weregarurumon_tf.jpg "Click to change the View")
Digi-Howl [STORY]
This art is done by the amazing 
d33rt33th and should be attacked with favorites and watches, RIGHT NOW! TYSM to them for letting me borrow their piece to write this story, I was always a Pokémon fan but, now that I'm realizing Digimon has an equal amount of big ass monsters... I'm no longer biased! PS - if you'd like to see the original art please press HERE! And if you want to read the story in its original formatting? Press here...
Brucie slumped into his desk chair, rubbing his eyes as the glow of his monitor bathed his cramped apartment in pale blue light. Work had been another mind numbing slog, another day of emails, deadlines, and pretending to care about things that drained the life from him. His body was here, but his mind? It was elsewhere.
He exhaled, leaning back, staring blankly at the screen.
Living in the Digimon world... now that would be something.
He’d thought about it since he got back into the show, how much better it’d be to throw away the stress, the bills, the crushing weight of expectations and just exist in a world of adventure. No more office job, no more worrying about how much was in his checking account. Just the wind in his fur, the thrill of battle, the rush of being free.
His fingers drummed idly against his mouse. He should be unwinding, maybe watching something to pass the time, but the thought wouldn’t leave his head.
A quick search later, his eyes landed on a site he’d never seen before:
"DIGIMON: BE THE GAME - Fully Immersive RP!"
Brucie raised an eyebrow. It looked old school, like something from the early 2000s… chunky fonts, neon blue accents, pixelated Digimon sprites lining the page.
"Make your character. Become the Digimon."
He smirked. Sounded fun. Probably just some forum based thing, but whatever, he could use a distraction. He clicked through, skimming over the instructions. At the bottom of the page was a download link:
"Create Your Digimon - Setup.exe"
A tiny warning sat under it, barely noticeable. Something about an experimental experience, not responsible for unforeseen effects, blah blah. He’d seen enough modded games to know nobody ever read the disclaimers.
Without hesitation, he clicked "Download."
The file was tiny… barely a megabyte, and installed instantly. The program launched, a simple black window with white text:
"Choose Your Digimon."
A list of names scrolled by. Agumon, Renamon, Guilmon... then he saw it.
WereGarurumon.
Brucie grinned. Hell yeah. Always loved that one, cool as hell, fast, strong, and just the right mix of beast and warrior. He clicked it, a brief loading bar flickering before another prompt appeared:
"Confirm selection?"
A single "YES" button glowed on the screen.
He clicked.
The moment his finger hit the mouse, his entire world lurched. A gut wrenching force yanked him forward, like the screen had become a black hole, sucking him in. His chair spun wildly behind him as he was ripped from reality, his vision exploding into a swirling tunnel of neon and static.
Brucie barely registered the whirling of his empty chair as he tumbled through an endless digital void. Pixels swirled around him in streaks of blue and white, data streams flashing like lightning in a storm. His stomach lurched. One second he was clicking a button, the next? This.
Then, just as suddenly as it started, he landed.
The world around him was dark, a flickering glow casting a sickly light on the endless void. In front of him was a massive computer screen, hovering in the darkness. His own desktop. His heart hammered as he saw the open window in the center:
"BRUCE.EXE"
"Override mental faculties?"
A cursor, moving on its own, drifted to the "YES" button.
“No, no, wait!” Brucie tried to reach for it, but his limbs felt slow, heavy. Like something was already changing.
The click echoed like a gunshot.
A wave of heat flooded his body, sinking deep into his bones, his muscles, his very thoughts. It was an all consuming rush, like fire and static electricity surging through his veins, setting every nerve alight. His breath hitched, then spilled out in a sharp gasp, no… not a gasp, a growl.
His feet burned.
The pressure built fast, too fast. His sneakers tightened, then bulged, the fabric straining as something inside them swelled. Toes spasmed, stretching longer, thicker, until the seams of his shoes gave their final protest and exploded apart with a loud rip.
“Ahhh… gguhh- hhhguh-!” His voice wavered, slurring, as sharp, dark claws punched through the ruined fabric, curving out like deadly hooks. His toes had merged, his feet elongating into thick, padded paws. Fur, coarse and wild, sprouted from his ankles, racing up his legs in a flood of blue and silver. His socks were in tatters, shredded remnants clinging pitifully to his shifting limbs.
His breath grew heavier, more labored, hot and wet, rolling over his tongue… like a dog- or a wolf.
His tongue...
He groaned as it lolled from his mouth, longer than before, thick with saliva. It dangled over his lower lip as drool dripped freely onto his shirt, leaving dark, messy patches of spit soaking into the fabric.
Why... why was he drooling so much?
He tried to think… tried to hold on… but the heat in his skull pulsed, thick and syrupy, melting down any coherent thought before it could fully form.
His teeth.
Pain slammed into his jaw, and his hands shot up to clutch his face but, his fingers were thicker, claws clicking together awkwardly as he fumbled at his shifting muzzle. His canines pushed forward, growing, stretching, bursting into massive, gleaming white tusks that jutted from his mouth like fangs fit for a beast.
His jaw cracked, bone shifting and stretching outward as the transformation surged through his skull. His thickening fingers scrambled at his face, claws scraping against his reshaping muzzle as his human features melted away. His nose flattened and darkened, nostrils widening as it pushed forward, extending further with every agonizing pulse of change. His lips pulled back, struggling to contain the sheer size of his monstrous tusks.
His human jaw had fully given way, stretching into a true muzzle, his face lengthening into a proud, lupine snout.
His attempts at speech collapsed into heavy, guttural grunts, thick and bestial.
“Rhh... hhgghh—rrhhuhh... grhrrh...”
The big tongue flopped free, hanging uselessly, thick with spit. Words, thoughts… were becoming impossible. His tusks, massive and gleaming, forced his mouth into a half open position, and every attempt to form anything coherent resulted in nothing but sloppy, animalistic grumbles.
Then, whoosh.
Fur exploded from his scalp, thick and wild, rushing down his neck in a flood of white fluff. His ears stretched in a sudden, sharp jolt, tall, pointed, and alert, twitching at the faintest flickers of sound.
The mane rushed down his back and chest, growing thicker, fuller, a cascade of wild fur framing his muscular frame. The weight of it, the sheer volume, made him feel more beast than man, like a predator, untamed and primal.
A low, dumb grunt rumbled from his throat as his tongue dripped more drool onto his fluffy, furred chest.
No more words. No more Brucie.
Just grunts. Just growls. Just instinct.
“Rrrhh... nnn... hhrrrrrrh...” His growl rumbled out between thick, dribbles of spit.
His thoughts wobbled, unsteady.
Big... big teef. Strong. Grrh.
His tongue lolled further, saliva pouring down his chin. He could feel it sliding down his throat, trickling onto his chest. He tried, tried so hard- to close his mouth, to stop the steady leak of drool, but his tusks forced it open just enough to keep his lips parted, letting more spit roll down in sluggish, messy trails.
His hands twitched against his face, claws flexing as his palms thickened, his fingers shortening, the pads on his palms swelling with a soft, leathery texture. Fur rushed over his arms, his biceps bulging, his shoulders broadening. His shirt pulled tight then tore as his chest expanded, thick pectorals pressing against the fabric until it simply couldn’t contain him anymore.
The seams split. The collar popped. More of his drool splattered down his newly bare chest, soaking into the fresh fur sprouting along his torso.
His ears stretched into sharp points, twitching at the faint, glitchy hum of the digital world around him. He could hear everything, his own heartbeat, the faint drip, drip, drip of his spit hitting the floor, the low, guttural growl rising in his throat.
He blinked, his vision swimming.
Think. Think, think, think.
What was...
Something about...
Mmmgh. Thinking... hard.
Didn’t wanna.
His lips peeled back in a loose, dumb grin, his tusks gleaming, his breath coming out in heavy, panting huffs.
Didn’t need to think.
Big. Strong.
Big paws. Big teef.
Drool slipped down his chin, hanging in thick, glistening strands before splattering onto the ground. He barely noticed anymore. Didn’t care anymore.
He let out a long, rattling exhale. His tail flicked behind him, swishing in lazy arcs.
Tail?
It was growing.
A dull pressure pulsed at his lower back, just above the waistline of his jeans. Then, with a sharp pop, the first tuft of thick, silvery fur pushed through his skin. The sudden sensation made his muscles jerk, and a long, rumbling groan rolled from his throat as the new appendage rushed outward, furred and powerful.
It slammed against the inside of his jeans, already straining at the seams, as it coiled and twitched with newfound power. Then… “rrriiiiip!” his jeans split wide at the back, the denim giving way to the sheer force of the thick, lupine limb bursting free.
The moment it was loose, it snapped outward, flicking side to side with raw instinct. The soft, thin fabric of his underwear was obliterated in an instant, shredded by the sheer force of his tail’s strength. He grunted, half aware, saliva still dripping in thick ropes down his chin.
But his tail wasn’t just a new limb. It was heavy, powerful, almost like another muscle, flexing and shifting to keep him balanced. His stance widened, his reshaped paws spreading against the unseen floor beneath him.
Then, from the shadows surrounding him, something moved.
The darkness itself seemed to shudder, like a living thing, swirling with purpose. It was forming something.
Clank.
Metal slammed around his chest. Thick, barbarian style leather straps coiled around his torso, locking into place like invisible hands were dressing him for war. The rough texture pressed into his newly furred skin, hugging his broad, muscled form like it had always been there.
Clank.
Something wrapped around his forearms, metallic bracers, dark and scarred with battle wear, snapping tightly against his thickened wrists. His fingers twitched, claws clicking together, as his arms flexed on their own, testing the weight.
Schlk!
A torn, wild loincloth slapped against his waist, belts forming around it in a rush of movement. His jeans were obliterated in an instant, massive muscled thighs shredding through the last remnants of human fabric as the tribal garb took its place. The fur-covered cloth dangled over his groin, barely concealing the raw, beastly strength his body now held.
His legs flexed, thighs bulging with new power.
The beast let out a low, dumb chuckle, his tusked maw dripping a steady drip, drip, drip of spit onto his newly formed chest straps. His tongue lolled further, his tail flicking behind him, adjusting to his stance with lazy, powerful sways.
No more human clothes. No more human thoughts.
Just power. Strength. Instinct.
His hands clenched into fists, claws scraping together.
He didn’t need to think.
Didn’t want to.
No thoughts. Just muscle. Just the hunger to fight, to run…
To be.
He threw back his head, nostrils flaring, and let out a deep, guttural howl.
d33rt33th and should be attacked with favorites and watches, RIGHT NOW! TYSM to them for letting me borrow their piece to write this story, I was always a Pokémon fan but, now that I'm realizing Digimon has an equal amount of big ass monsters... I'm no longer biased! PS - if you'd like to see the original art please press HERE! And if you want to read the story in its original formatting? Press here... Brucie slumped into his desk chair, rubbing his eyes as the glow of his monitor bathed his cramped apartment in pale blue light. Work had been another mind numbing slog, another day of emails, deadlines, and pretending to care about things that drained the life from him. His body was here, but his mind? It was elsewhere.
He exhaled, leaning back, staring blankly at the screen.
Living in the Digimon world... now that would be something.
He’d thought about it since he got back into the show, how much better it’d be to throw away the stress, the bills, the crushing weight of expectations and just exist in a world of adventure. No more office job, no more worrying about how much was in his checking account. Just the wind in his fur, the thrill of battle, the rush of being free.
His fingers drummed idly against his mouse. He should be unwinding, maybe watching something to pass the time, but the thought wouldn’t leave his head.
A quick search later, his eyes landed on a site he’d never seen before:
"DIGIMON: BE THE GAME - Fully Immersive RP!"
Brucie raised an eyebrow. It looked old school, like something from the early 2000s… chunky fonts, neon blue accents, pixelated Digimon sprites lining the page.
"Make your character. Become the Digimon."
He smirked. Sounded fun. Probably just some forum based thing, but whatever, he could use a distraction. He clicked through, skimming over the instructions. At the bottom of the page was a download link:
"Create Your Digimon - Setup.exe"
A tiny warning sat under it, barely noticeable. Something about an experimental experience, not responsible for unforeseen effects, blah blah. He’d seen enough modded games to know nobody ever read the disclaimers.
Without hesitation, he clicked "Download."
The file was tiny… barely a megabyte, and installed instantly. The program launched, a simple black window with white text:
"Choose Your Digimon."
A list of names scrolled by. Agumon, Renamon, Guilmon... then he saw it.
WereGarurumon.
Brucie grinned. Hell yeah. Always loved that one, cool as hell, fast, strong, and just the right mix of beast and warrior. He clicked it, a brief loading bar flickering before another prompt appeared:
"Confirm selection?"
A single "YES" button glowed on the screen.
He clicked.
The moment his finger hit the mouse, his entire world lurched. A gut wrenching force yanked him forward, like the screen had become a black hole, sucking him in. His chair spun wildly behind him as he was ripped from reality, his vision exploding into a swirling tunnel of neon and static.
Brucie barely registered the whirling of his empty chair as he tumbled through an endless digital void. Pixels swirled around him in streaks of blue and white, data streams flashing like lightning in a storm. His stomach lurched. One second he was clicking a button, the next? This.
Then, just as suddenly as it started, he landed.
The world around him was dark, a flickering glow casting a sickly light on the endless void. In front of him was a massive computer screen, hovering in the darkness. His own desktop. His heart hammered as he saw the open window in the center:
"BRUCE.EXE"
"Override mental faculties?"
A cursor, moving on its own, drifted to the "YES" button.
“No, no, wait!” Brucie tried to reach for it, but his limbs felt slow, heavy. Like something was already changing.
The click echoed like a gunshot.
A wave of heat flooded his body, sinking deep into his bones, his muscles, his very thoughts. It was an all consuming rush, like fire and static electricity surging through his veins, setting every nerve alight. His breath hitched, then spilled out in a sharp gasp, no… not a gasp, a growl.
His feet burned.
The pressure built fast, too fast. His sneakers tightened, then bulged, the fabric straining as something inside them swelled. Toes spasmed, stretching longer, thicker, until the seams of his shoes gave their final protest and exploded apart with a loud rip.
“Ahhh… gguhh- hhhguh-!” His voice wavered, slurring, as sharp, dark claws punched through the ruined fabric, curving out like deadly hooks. His toes had merged, his feet elongating into thick, padded paws. Fur, coarse and wild, sprouted from his ankles, racing up his legs in a flood of blue and silver. His socks were in tatters, shredded remnants clinging pitifully to his shifting limbs.
His breath grew heavier, more labored, hot and wet, rolling over his tongue… like a dog- or a wolf.
His tongue...
He groaned as it lolled from his mouth, longer than before, thick with saliva. It dangled over his lower lip as drool dripped freely onto his shirt, leaving dark, messy patches of spit soaking into the fabric.
Why... why was he drooling so much?
He tried to think… tried to hold on… but the heat in his skull pulsed, thick and syrupy, melting down any coherent thought before it could fully form.
His teeth.
Pain slammed into his jaw, and his hands shot up to clutch his face but, his fingers were thicker, claws clicking together awkwardly as he fumbled at his shifting muzzle. His canines pushed forward, growing, stretching, bursting into massive, gleaming white tusks that jutted from his mouth like fangs fit for a beast.
His jaw cracked, bone shifting and stretching outward as the transformation surged through his skull. His thickening fingers scrambled at his face, claws scraping against his reshaping muzzle as his human features melted away. His nose flattened and darkened, nostrils widening as it pushed forward, extending further with every agonizing pulse of change. His lips pulled back, struggling to contain the sheer size of his monstrous tusks.
His human jaw had fully given way, stretching into a true muzzle, his face lengthening into a proud, lupine snout.
His attempts at speech collapsed into heavy, guttural grunts, thick and bestial.
“Rhh... hhgghh—rrhhuhh... grhrrh...”
The big tongue flopped free, hanging uselessly, thick with spit. Words, thoughts… were becoming impossible. His tusks, massive and gleaming, forced his mouth into a half open position, and every attempt to form anything coherent resulted in nothing but sloppy, animalistic grumbles.
Then, whoosh.
Fur exploded from his scalp, thick and wild, rushing down his neck in a flood of white fluff. His ears stretched in a sudden, sharp jolt, tall, pointed, and alert, twitching at the faintest flickers of sound.
The mane rushed down his back and chest, growing thicker, fuller, a cascade of wild fur framing his muscular frame. The weight of it, the sheer volume, made him feel more beast than man, like a predator, untamed and primal.
A low, dumb grunt rumbled from his throat as his tongue dripped more drool onto his fluffy, furred chest.
No more words. No more Brucie.
Just grunts. Just growls. Just instinct.
“Rrrhh... nnn... hhrrrrrrh...” His growl rumbled out between thick, dribbles of spit.
His thoughts wobbled, unsteady.
Big... big teef. Strong. Grrh.
His tongue lolled further, saliva pouring down his chin. He could feel it sliding down his throat, trickling onto his chest. He tried, tried so hard- to close his mouth, to stop the steady leak of drool, but his tusks forced it open just enough to keep his lips parted, letting more spit roll down in sluggish, messy trails.
His hands twitched against his face, claws flexing as his palms thickened, his fingers shortening, the pads on his palms swelling with a soft, leathery texture. Fur rushed over his arms, his biceps bulging, his shoulders broadening. His shirt pulled tight then tore as his chest expanded, thick pectorals pressing against the fabric until it simply couldn’t contain him anymore.
The seams split. The collar popped. More of his drool splattered down his newly bare chest, soaking into the fresh fur sprouting along his torso.
His ears stretched into sharp points, twitching at the faint, glitchy hum of the digital world around him. He could hear everything, his own heartbeat, the faint drip, drip, drip of his spit hitting the floor, the low, guttural growl rising in his throat.
He blinked, his vision swimming.
Think. Think, think, think.
What was...
Something about...
Mmmgh. Thinking... hard.
Didn’t wanna.
His lips peeled back in a loose, dumb grin, his tusks gleaming, his breath coming out in heavy, panting huffs.
Didn’t need to think.
Big. Strong.
Big paws. Big teef.
Drool slipped down his chin, hanging in thick, glistening strands before splattering onto the ground. He barely noticed anymore. Didn’t care anymore.
He let out a long, rattling exhale. His tail flicked behind him, swishing in lazy arcs.
Tail?
It was growing.
A dull pressure pulsed at his lower back, just above the waistline of his jeans. Then, with a sharp pop, the first tuft of thick, silvery fur pushed through his skin. The sudden sensation made his muscles jerk, and a long, rumbling groan rolled from his throat as the new appendage rushed outward, furred and powerful.
It slammed against the inside of his jeans, already straining at the seams, as it coiled and twitched with newfound power. Then… “rrriiiiip!” his jeans split wide at the back, the denim giving way to the sheer force of the thick, lupine limb bursting free.
The moment it was loose, it snapped outward, flicking side to side with raw instinct. The soft, thin fabric of his underwear was obliterated in an instant, shredded by the sheer force of his tail’s strength. He grunted, half aware, saliva still dripping in thick ropes down his chin.
But his tail wasn’t just a new limb. It was heavy, powerful, almost like another muscle, flexing and shifting to keep him balanced. His stance widened, his reshaped paws spreading against the unseen floor beneath him.
Then, from the shadows surrounding him, something moved.
The darkness itself seemed to shudder, like a living thing, swirling with purpose. It was forming something.
Clank.
Metal slammed around his chest. Thick, barbarian style leather straps coiled around his torso, locking into place like invisible hands were dressing him for war. The rough texture pressed into his newly furred skin, hugging his broad, muscled form like it had always been there.
Clank.
Something wrapped around his forearms, metallic bracers, dark and scarred with battle wear, snapping tightly against his thickened wrists. His fingers twitched, claws clicking together, as his arms flexed on their own, testing the weight.
Schlk!
A torn, wild loincloth slapped against his waist, belts forming around it in a rush of movement. His jeans were obliterated in an instant, massive muscled thighs shredding through the last remnants of human fabric as the tribal garb took its place. The fur-covered cloth dangled over his groin, barely concealing the raw, beastly strength his body now held.
His legs flexed, thighs bulging with new power.
The beast let out a low, dumb chuckle, his tusked maw dripping a steady drip, drip, drip of spit onto his newly formed chest straps. His tongue lolled further, his tail flicking behind him, adjusting to his stance with lazy, powerful sways.
No more human clothes. No more human thoughts.
Just power. Strength. Instinct.
His hands clenched into fists, claws scraping together.
He didn’t need to think.
Didn’t want to.
No thoughts. Just muscle. Just the hunger to fight, to run…
To be.
He threw back his head, nostrils flaring, and let out a deep, guttural howl.
Category Story / Transformation
Species Digimon
Size 1533 x 2048px
File Size 382.9 kB
Comments