One With The Woods

Part 3: The Lumberjack 

By Charlie Wolf

Every year over a thousand people go missing in the state parks of North America. Some are overcome by bad weather, others succumb to starvation or hostile wildlife, still others fall prey to a stranger fate.

Logan Walker never wanted to be a lumberjack or a militiaman for that matter, but as he tumbled end over end in the night air towards a raging, frigid, and certain death 70 feet below him, he considered the missteps in his life that had fated him to be both.

His family had been loggers for at least 6 generations. Logan’s father had even owned his own logging company that was regionally successful when he was a boy, but the recession and mismanagement had all but wiped out his family’s modest wealth by the time he was 18. He’d always dreamed of being a park ranger and spending his life among nature instead of destroying it, but a sense of familial duty, financial need, and the fact that he was damn good at it pushed him into logging. He’d spent the last 12 years working for various logging companies his dad had relationships with, trying to keep a roof over his ailing parents heads, until they both passed within a few days of each other the previous winter. 

It was processing his grief through throwing himself into work that caused Logan to say yes to a cold call offering him an exorbitant amount of money for an off season and very off the books logging job. The company looked legit on its face, but Logan quickly realized it was a front. The day they left to go set up camp was the first time he saw the automatic weapons being loaded in among the logging tools at their supply depot. He was confused and half joked with the supply manager that they must be in for some good hunting once they were in the wild country. The manager didn’t even smile and instead called someone on his radio saying some sort of codeword. He was then whisked into the general manager’s office by some people in military fatigues and sat down in front of a grizzled late middle aged man he’d soon learn was Billy Anderson, commander of the Olympia Mavericks platoon of The Rugged Path militia. The lumberjack had heard their name in the news the past few years being tied to everything from drug smuggling and crypto currency theft to shooting unarmed protesters and threatening government officials.

Commander Anderson briefly explained who they were and their philosophy, standard anti government stuff, but these guys backed up their political views with serious firepower. The logging operation was to help fund their other ventures in a way that wasn’t as conspicuous as weapon or drug smuggling. After giving his spiel, Anderson began grilling Logan on a wide array of personal topics including his ethnic heritage and his thoughts on the current presidential administration. Logan said whatever he thought wouldn’t get him shot by the two guards on either side of him, and apparently his answers satisfied the cold eyed commander because the next thing he knew, someone had shoved a loyalty oath disguised as an employment contract into his hand, and he had signed it. Logan was growing increasingly uncomfortable with the situation but he figured that since the only other alternative seemed to be getting shot by these lunatics, he’d play it out and see what happened. Afterall he thought, It was only for a couple of months and by the time it was over he’d have saved up enough to quit logging forever. However, these promises soon proved to be as fake as the logging company whose stationary they were printed on.

By the time they had completed their perilous journey down the series of old, unmaintained logging trails into what the locals called The Forbidden Valley and had set up their camp overlooking a treacherous vein of white water that cut its way through the heart of the valley, Logan was having serious regrets. For one, it looked like most of the group were heavy drinkers and mean drunks at that. The second, and more pressing reason, was that from his conversations with the other guys, it looked like he was one of only a handful of men with actual logging experience in the entire 100 man platoon. The rest were wannabe soldiers and mostly too out of shape to ever dream of keeping up with actual loggers. Even worse, once they got to work Logan quickly realized to his horror that all the decisions about what, where, and even how to log were dictated by the militia “lieutenants” none of whom had any logging experience and barely qualified as actual soldiers. They barked contradictory and nonsensical orders through a megaphone while standing on a hill overlooking the work site. Any objection was met with the threat of violence and the occasional follow through.

About a week into their job one of the only other experienced loggers, an older man named Gus who was one of the few in the group that Logan trusted, became fed up beyond consolation after nearly being decapitated by a falling douglas fir. He confronted both his lieutenant and Commander Anderson demanding safer work accommodations and pay for the work they’d done so far. Anderson tossed the keys to one of the large logging trucks to Gus and told him he could leave whenever he wanted if he didn’t like the conditions. Gus took the keys without a word and began walking towards the trucks. When he reached the vehicle and was just starting to reach out to unlock the door, the commander pulled out his 9mm and put one right into the back of his head. As his body slumped down next to the giant wheels of the trucks, the commander turned towards the rest of the gathered platoon with a sadistic shit eating grin on his face.
	
“Anyone else not like the working conditions around here?” He asked rhetorically, being sure to lock eyes uncomfortably with all the new recruits including Logan. No one else said a word. The message had been heard loud and clear. The only way to leave the Rugged Path was in a body bag. The commander then ordered his lieutenants to burn Gus’ body and dump the ashes and bone fragments into the whitewater below their camp. 

The lumberjack knew he had to find a way to escape these psychopaths, but had no plan and, frozen by indecision, decided to wait it out till an opportunity presented itself. Weeks soon turned to months and what was supposed to be a relatively brief off season job turned into a 6 month grueling slog. There were multiple deaths due to inexperience and just plain negligence. A man was crushed when an inexperienced faller cut a giant tree at the wrong angle. A few weeks later another fell into the river and drowned after losing his footing on a rain drenched hill they were working. There was a good reason legitimate logging operations preferred the winter. Logan had many close calls working for other outfits, but working with these lunatics made him feel like he could die at any moment.

 After months of work they’d barely managed to get a few truck loads of logs out of the forest for processing. The clandestine nature of their operation made everything slower and more difficult. By autumn, the whole venture threatened to collapse. Men regularly started getting into drunken brawls at night. A few started turning up dead in their sleep, mysteriously stabbed.  Commander Anderson seemed to be fine just letting things devolve in this fashion. He was more concerned with saving his own ass from the retribution of his higher ups when they eventually found out what a cluster fuck the whole operation had become. 

To Logan however, what was worse even than the deaths and violence of the militiamen was what they were doing to the virgin forest around them. Their camp had quickly devolved into a toxic cesspool of trash and poorly dug latrines. As frustrations grew, men would regularly shoot any wildlife they came across for fun, not even taking the time to process the body for meat, just leaving the carcasas out to rot. The straw that broke the proverbial camel’s back was the incident with the beavers.

Logan was down by the river one chilly morning gathering water for the camp when they spotted a pair of beavers pushing small logs downstream. It was a rare site in the valley. Supposedly their population had crashed a few decades back after a wildfire and had just started to rebound. Logan took momentary joy in the rare treat, but even this brief moment of joy ws soon tainted by the toxicity of his fellow humans.

“Hey, those are ours!” one of the men who’d begun drinking particularly early that morning shouted at the beavers. Some of the men chuckled thinking it was a joke until the drunk man pulled out his pistol and shot one of the creatures through the head. Its limp body floated down the river and washed up on a nearby bank. The beaver’s mate squeaked and chittered in desperation swimming after it onto the bank, then nuzzling the lifeless body trying to get its companion to move. The lumberjack stood frozen in horror. In some ways it was even more cruel than what had happened to Gus. He had to fight tears as he watched the beaver’s desperate mate try to resuscitate them. He’d always had a soft spot for the goofy looking aquatic mammals. The drunk man shouted something about a new beaver skin hat and started lumbering towards the pair. When he reached them the dead beaver’s companion hissed and growled as the drunk man tried to pull its mate’s body away. 

“Yeah? I’ll give the same to you too bitch!” the drunken man sputtered as he reached for his sidearm. Before he could reach it, the beaver lunged and bit the man’s arm causing him to howl with pain as the other men began howling with laughter. The sight of blood spreading along the sleeve of the drunk man’s white Metallica t-shirt would feature in Logan’s nightmares for weeks. The beaver skittered off into the brush as the drunk man stamped around in pain, eventually kicking the dead beaver’s body out of frustration back into the river where it floated downstream. Yet another waste of life. Logan decided then and there that he had to find a way out, and soon.

He spent the next few weeks stealthily hoarding rations. Logan planned to wait until late one night after most of the men had passed out from drinking and sneak out on foot down the rough logging road that led back to the highway. He’d traveled it enough times now that he guessed he could get far enough down the trail by first call the next morning that they wouldn’t be able to catch him before he got to the main road. Once he had enough supplies to survive a couple of days in the woods on foot if it came down to it, he waited for an opportunity to present itself. 

A few weeks into autumn, an opportunity presented itself in a very unexpected way. One of the men shot a mother grizzly nursing her cubs outside their den, just so he could take a selfie of him standing over the corpse. The commander captured the cubs and was planning on selling them to an exotic wildlife broker, assuming they survived long enough. A call was made and a day later the range rover usually reserved for visits from VIPs in the militia came rumbling down the logging trail. Its passenger was a severe looking woman in her late 30s wearing a professional looking black suit who looked like she’d rather be anywhere else. Logan figured she was the broker. She was escorted into Commander Anderson’s trailer where the lumberjack assumed the commander spent the better part of two hours desperately trying to charm and seduce the poor woman. Sometime after nightfall they emerged from the trailer to look at the cubs being kept in a cage near the treeline. Logan watched with anger as the commander kicked the cage trying to quiet the cubs as they desperately started to cry for food, and their deceased mother. The broker didn’t like it either and started screaming at the commander. He waved her off and started coming towards Logan and the rest of the men around the fire, grabbing a fresh bottle of whiskey on the way. The broker stormed back into the trailer and slammed the door. Logan eyed the range rover at the entrance and began to form a plan. It was positioned perfectly to block the trail and if he could somehow disable it on his way out, it would significantly delay inevitable pursuit by the militia, giving him precious minutes to get out of the forest. Logan made the decision, tonight was the night. 

He spent the next few hours watching the platoon get increasingly drunk and pretending to descend into the same state himself. As men started to pass out around him, Logan prepared to make his move. He’d already started to theatrically stumble towards his tent to collect his supplies and tools when suddenly an explosion rocked the entire camp. It came from underneath one of the trucks near the trailhead.  Not knowing what was happening, Logan decided to take his chances and grabbed his satchel pack and rifle and began running towards the treeline. He wouldn’t have time to disable the Range Rover, but Logan thought he might get an even better headstart as the entire camp was engulfed in chaos. Just as he was about to duck into the treeline he heard a shot from near the trailer. He turned and saw the commander and the broker standing over someone near the cage which had been broken open. The bear cubs were nowhere in site and the commander looked livid. He saw the commander kneel down and say something to the figure on the ground before turning directly towards Logan. When Anderson saw him he waved him and another soldier over. Logan had missed his opportunity. Inwardly panicking, Logan and the other soldier walked over towards the cage. To his horror, the lumberjack saw that the figure laying on the ground couldn’t have been older than 25 and was bleeding profusely from his right leg. 

“Get him up and take him over to the cliffs” Commander Anderson growled. Logan hesitated but quickly followed the other soldier’s lead and grabbed the boy underneath one of his arms and drug him over to the cliff that overlooked the raging river below their camp. 

Logan’s mind raced and his heart pounded. He’d seen the Commander kill a man for the simple act of wanting to go home and be paid for his work, god only knew what he’d do to this kid Logan correctly assumed was responsible not only for the explosion, but releasing Anderson’s only shot of making any money from this misbegotten venture. He looked down into the kid’s dazed eyes and saw deep fear. When they reached the Cliff’s edge Anderson ordered the men to turn their captive around. The Commander began to threaten the boy and leveled his rifle at his head. Logan tensed up. Was he really about to aid in this kid’s murder? Just then the broker walked up and began arguing viciously with Anderson. The lumberjack had to admit that she had guts standing up to the brutish man that had a full foot and a half on her.

Just as it looked like the argument was getting out of hand, a great ursine roar erupted from the woods. Perhaps, Logan thought, they hadn’t killed the cub’s mother after all and she was back for revenge. He wasn’t too far off from the truth. Dozens of grizzlies emerged from the woods and began tearing up the camp, knocking over tents and cooking fires causing flames to start spreading across the area. Logan was so distracted by the spectacle that he didn’t realize until it was too late that their prisoner was slipping their hold on him. He felt the kid's shoulder land hard into his ribs knocking the breath out of him and causing him to stumble backwards and drop his rifle. Logan suddenly felt no ground below his feet and began tumbling through the night air towards certain death. His last thought before he hit the water was the hope that he’d be knocked unconscious and go quickly instead of minutes of agonizing struggle against the rapids before he finally succumbed to the icy water. 

Logan did hit his head against a rock as he plunged into a deep pocket of the river, but was only dazed. He floated listlessly down the river, unable to orient himself and feeling the cold start to go to work on his body. Just before he finally slipped into unconsciousness he felt himself being pulled into calmer waters by something. The lumberjack thought he saw brown fur out of the corner of his eye as he faded out.

He awoke sometime later deeply disoriented. Opening his eyes, he couldn’t make out much at first. The air around him smelled deeply musky, like damp dog. Logan could see shafts of light coming through cracks in whatever kind of structure he was in. His body felt damp, but warm, like he was wrapped in some sort of fuzzy blanket, however as his mind started to clear he realized that the blanket covering him was breathing and would move every now and again. Whatever was on top of him was alive. He reacted instinctively violently, shaking off the hairy creatures that were laying on top of him, causing a chaotic frenzy of excited chittering and the quick skittering movements of little furry bodies. As his vision cleared further, Logan could see that he was in a small wooden structure, just tall enough for him to sit up, but not enough for him to stand. In front of him looking at him with some surprise and confusion was a family of beavers. The biggest stood on its hind legs balancing with its tail curiously looking at the confused lumberjack. From the sets of teats on her belly, Logan intuited it was the mother. To her sides were 3 slightly smaller beavers, most likely her yearlings born last season. At her feet were two much smaller kits no more than a month or two old, her kits from this season. As Logan looked around him he realized he must be in their lodge. Did the beavers somehow save him? As he was processing these thoughts the lumberjack felt a deep, commanding, feminine voice begin speaking in his mind.

Well that wasn’t very nice, they were just trying to keep you from dying of hypothermia.

“Who’s there?!” Logan called out to no one, the beavers all cocked their heads confused at the man creature’s sudden vocalizing.

In answer to his question, he felt a presence enter him, he didn’t see so much as felt visions of brown fur, sharp claws and teeth, and deep brown eyes atop an ursine visage. The presence spoke again.

My name is Misabe, and I am the guardian of this valley that you and your companions have defiled. You’ve wastefully killed plant and animal alike and have even shed the blood of your own kin on my soil.

Logan could feel the pain and anger of the voice in his head, and a wave of guilt passed through the deepest part of his soul. He thought about the destruction he had passively participated in, the wanton destruction of nature, witnessing the cold blooded murder of an innocent man and saying nothing.

“I didn’t want to be a part of this!” Logan said on the verge of bitter tears. “I had no idea how evil those men were. I didn’t want to be a part of the killing or the destruction.”

But yet you remained here with them, actively participating in their rape of this land. 

“Because they’d kill me if I tried to leave! I never wanted this life… I just didn’t know how to escape it.”

Logan Walker, I know your heart. I know you wanted to be a good man and were trapped in a bad situation. But good men who do nothing in the face of evil are almost as bad as those who perpetuate it. You’ll have to atone for your inaction and help replace what was taken from this land just like the rest of your cohort. 

The lumberjack began to break down and blubber garnering more curious and confused looks from the beaver family.

“I’m so sorry for what I’ve done. Please help me fix this, I’ll do anything to make this right!”

Logan felt the presence in his mind’s eye smile, almost mischievously.

Anything? Are you sure?

“Yes please!”

So be it…

The presence in Logan’s mind went silent and he began to wonder if he hadn’t just hallucinated the entire scene. The family of beavers still stood in front of him, watching him with an almost anticipatory expression, like they were waiting for something to happen, just like he was. Suddenly, Logan’s entire body began to itch causing him to start squirming and scratching himself all over. He pulled up the sleeves on his flannel shirt to try and find the source of the irritation and to his shock, he saw patches of thick brown fur sprouting from every pore on his skin. His hands started to tingle and throb. The skin on both appendages started to blacken. Nails became long black claws and the skin on his palms hardened into thick pads. Most horrifying to Logan, webbing began to grow between the fingers on both hands.

“What’s happening to me?!” Logan almost screamed at the disembodied presence. The voice responded with a question of its own.

Did you know that, under normal circumstances, Beavers mate for life? They meet their mate on their journey upstream from their birth lodge to build a dam of their own and stick together until their dying breath. Unless of course their mate dies before their time. Sometimes it’s disease or predation, but these days it’s mostly Human intervention that destroys these deeply bonded pairs.

Logan looked at the mother beaver, into her deep black eyes, and felt a deep empathy for the creature. He didn’t know how he knew, but she’d been in mourning recently. A wave of recognition crashed over the lumberjack. This was the same beaver that lost her mate to the drunken asshole from his camp a few weeks ago. Logan’s mind started to put two and two together as fur continued to sprout across his body, and his clothes started to feel loose.

“Wait… do you mean I’m…”

Yes. I’m changing your body to suit the restitution you’re to pay this land. You’re going to replace the mate this poor mother recently lost, be a father to her kits, and sire new litters with her for the rest of your days.

“No! Please I don’t want that! I don’t want to be an animal, isn’t there some other way I can help?!” Logan started pleading.

You did say you’d do anything to help payback what was stolen. I think you’ll quite enjoy being a beaver. You were a very talented lumberjack afterall!

“But why me!? Why not the asshole that killed her mate?
Logan felt the presence smile in his mind again.

Oh don’t worry about him, he’s serving his sentence in a similar, yet slightly different manner.

Logan’s mind suddenly filled with a vision of another beaver lodge not too far down the river. He could hear excited squeaking and chattering of the beavers that inhabited it. When his vision passed through the exterior walls like a mist, and the interior swam into focus, he saw why they were making so much noise. Inside was another family of beavers. This time a mother and father with their three yearling sons. The parents and two sons watched as the third yearling mated ferociously with a slightly larger female. The female beaver squeaked with each thrust from the male’s hips and lay on the ground in complete submission. When the male finished, he dismounted the female and one of his brothers skittered over to take his place, mounting the female and beginning the process again. The yearling males were about to leave their lodge and look for mates of their own and were using this mature female that wasn’t from their clan as practice. The female barely noticed. It seemed like this had been going on for quite some time and while she may have fought it at first, she’d since completely given in to the desires of the aggressive males. It was then that Logan noticed the bedding they were laying on. It was a white t-shirt and a pair of jeans. Logan could just make out the edge of the Metallica logo underneath the female’s fur and a few patches of dried blood around one of the sleeves. It was the same shirt the drunken man from his camp usually wore.

“Is that…”

Yes. The female you see before you used to be your compatriot, but every part of that creature that was once human is gone, replaced by the instincts and personality befitting her new life. As far as that beaver is concerned, she was never human and has always lived on this river, and always will. She’ll spend the rest of her natural life birthing and raising kits with whichever of these three brothers she chooses to swim upstream with. 

Suddenly Logan’s mind was back in the den. He began to panic when he saw that though his mind had been somewhere else, the transformation of his body had continued. His clothes now felt many sizes too big and very uncomfortable against the thick coat of brown fur that now covered his entire body. His boots and socks fell from his feet as his body continued to recede away from them. Logan gasped as he saw his toes had grown out into long dainty digits topped by long black claws and joined together with black webbed skin, they looked more like flippers than feet now. He felt his face start to elongate as the incisors on his top and bottom jaw grew out. As his face elongated into a muzzle, his nose grew leathery and wet. Smells began to take on increased detail at the sametime his eyesight started to grow blurry. His pants and underwear began to fall from his midriff being pushed by something growing from his backside. When Logan looked down he saw a flat, black beaver tail growing from the bottom of his spine and fanning out under his increasingly stubby legs. 

“Is what happened to that other man going to happen to me?” Logan cried out, his voice had already started to change becoming higher pitched and less human sounding.

No. You may have been a part of the group that defiled this valley, but your crime was a failure of courage, not one of malice or greed. Your fate will be gentler than that of your kin. For one, I’ll let you remain male, speaking of which…

By then, Logan had completely shrank out of his pants and his t-shirt started to feel more like a tent than a piece of apparel. His lower body was now completely exposed showing Logan for the first time just how much he’d changed. Slick brown fur covered every inch of his body and to Logan’s surprise his genitalia were nowhere in sight. He could still feel them, but they had receded into a cloacal vent under his tail. 

Being so preoccupied with his transformation, Logan hadn’t noticed the female beaver taking an increased interest in him. The strange sour milk smell coming from the man creature had started to be replaced with a much more familiar and alluring musk. As his body changed he started to become more handsome to her eyes. It looked like the goddess was rewarding the devotion her and her family had shown by saving the man creature, and giving her a new mate. When his pants slipped off him she got a full whiff of his new musk and began to get excited. She padded over to the still strange looking male laying on his back, and began excitedly sniffing under his tail.   

Logan tried to back away from the increasingly aroused female but found himself as far back against the wall of the lodge as he could manage. He kicked his webbed feet and tried to push her off with his stubby arms, but she just kept coming back to stick her snout further into the underside of his tail. Eventually she started to focus her probing around his cloaca. The female started licking and massaging the area with her paws causing Logan to let out a squeaky gasp of pleasure.

I think she likes you!

The voice said teasingly 

Look how excited she is to meet you. She’ll be a loyal and loving mate for the rest of your days if you’ll let her. How could you say no to that? You’ll live out your life peacefully here amongst nature. Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted?

The lumberjack wanted to object but words were starting to escape him. Logan’s mind had begun to grow as hazy as his vision. The feeling of the female stimulating him was overwhelming the part of his mind still trying to fight the change. He knew it’d feel better to just give in and accept his fate. As his nostrils grew more sensitive he began picking up hints of the female’s own musk reinforcing his own growing arousal. The red tip of his penins began to emerge from his cloaca causing the female to let out an excited squeak and begin licking the emerging phallus. Logan let out a squeak of his own as he felt the female’s long tongue begin to slowly lick the underside of his cock.

Yes, that’s it. Let her love you just like you’ll be loving her soon enough. Another one of my gifts to you Logan. Normally she wouldn’t be due to go into heat for another few months, but I’ve sped up her cycle a bit to make her extra enticing to you. You’ll conceive the first of many litters with her tonight to consummate your new form.

“No…  please… make… stop.” Logan said in an almost incomprehensible combination of guttural vowels and squeaks. His ability to form human language had almost completely vanished. He was simultaneously aroused, confused, and terrified. He felt the presence in him grow warm, calming, almost motherly.

Just give in, Logan and let go. See for yourself what a gift I’m granting you. In addition to keeping your biological gender, you’ll keep just enough of your human mind to be a full and sentient participant in your new life, not just a beast enslaved to instinct. I’m even letting you keep your normal human lifespan and extending your soon to be mate’s. You’ll both live long and happy lives on this river and she’ll remain fertile the entire time. Together, you’ll sire new kits every year until this valley is filled with your progeny. Doesn’t that sound nice?

To Logan’s increasingly clouded mind, it sounded wonderful. He looked down at the female licking his increasingly swollen member. As his transformation neared completion, the female began to look increasingly attractive. Her black eyes would occasionally dart up to meet his own. As new instincts began to activate in Logan’s mind and he could better read the subtleties in her body language and facial expressions, he saw the deep love and adoration in her eyes, and he was becoming increasingly enthralled with her alluring curves of her rump and the shape of her muzzle. Logan began fantasizing about the life they’d have together, mating season after season, filling the river with the dams of their children, restoring the balance of life in this valley. In that moment he wanted that destiny more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life. With a final surrender, Logan relaxed his body, letting the final changes ripple through him. He shrank to his final size slipping out of his shirt and laying on his back in the pile of clothing as the female continued to pleasure him. Finally he released the last of his human seed in a great fountain that coated both the face of the female and his own belly, causing the female to let out a sharp squeak of surprise. She began greedily licking the semen off her face and then began cleaning the rest of it off Logan working her way up his stomach with her tongue until she started licking his face. The former human responded by putting his paws behind the female’s head and bringing his muzzle to hers. They began affectionately licking and kissing each other. Logan savored the taste of her saliva mixed with the taste of the last human seed he’d ever produce. After a minute or two the female pulled away and padded over to the center of the den. She stretched out on all fours and lifted her tail, giving Logan a great view of her cloaca and a fresh gust of her fertile musk.

The male beaver didn’t hesitate. Finding himself now unable to walk upright, he rolled onto his stomach with a bit of effort, and quickly figured out how to make his new appendages propel him forward. As he awkwardly plodded towards the female she rolled onto her back presenting her stomach to him. He clambered on top of her and with a little bit of effort, found his mark. Both rodents squealed in pleasure as the male beaver entered his mate. Logan instinctively knew that if he climaxed inside her, his fate would be sealed forever, and yet he didn’t care. The more time he spent inside her, the more of his human memories and worries started to fade, and the happier he became. As the negative aspects of his humanity slipped from his mind, more of the core of his gentle and loving personality came through. The best parts of him that were damaged by living in an uncaring and unnatural world were starting to heal themselves. One prime aspect was his tendency towards being an affectionate and attentive lover.   

The female was in pure bliss as her mate started rutting on top of her. Breeding with her last mate had been a pleasant, but brief chore. This new male took his time and seemed to know all sorts of new and exciting ways to touch her. He ran his paws through her fur massaging the sensitive areas around her nipples. His tongue danced with hers inside their interlocked muzzles. She had never felt like this before and her body began to melt into an ocean of warm ecstasy beneath him. The female began to orgasm repeatedly, her inner walls squeezing her mate’s manhood trying to coax out his seed, Logan used the human restraint he’d brought with him into this new form to keep from finishing too quickly. This was their first time together and he wanted it to last as long as possible. 

As their mother and new stepfather mated, the smaller kits and yearlings began to playfully tussle, but every now and again the yearlings would pause to watch when they heard their mother make a particularly strange series of chattering squeaks. They’d never heard her make those sounds before, even when mating with their father. The young beavers were just weeks away from leaving the lodge to journey and find their own mates, and took notes of what the new male was doing to bring their mother such unrelenting pleasure. 

Their love making lasted for what felt like hours. The female began to pant from the exertion of their rutting, and Logan had pushed himself as far as he thought he could. When he felt his mate descending into the throws of another particularly powerful orgasm, he gave up control and released loads of fresh beaver seed into the squeaking writhing female’s cloacal vent. With that last release of control, Logan sealed his transformation. He’d spend the rest of his life as a beaver in this den with his new mate. The former human had never felt more satisfied and at peace. 

The pair both chittered and squeaked, affectionately licking and nibbling on each other as the pleasure from their simultaneous orgasm crested, then began to fall. The male, now fully spent, rolled off the female and lay next to her. They lay there panting for a few minutes, the female occasionally shaking from an orgasmic aftershock. Eventually the female rolled back onto her stomach and plodded over to the pile of clothing that had once belonged to a human lumberjack. She rearranged the cloth into a warm nest then began patting her tail on the pile, inviting her new mate to join her. Logan rolled back onto his stomach and bounded over, nestling in tight next to his mate and nuzzling her. Their kits soon joined them in the warm furry pile and soon the entire family fell into a deep sleep. Just before he passed out, Logan put his paw on his mate’s belly, almost imagining he could feel his seed going to work inside her, starting the process of growing next spring’s litter. As he looked around at his new home, his still cogent and intelligent mind went to work thinking of ways he could make their lodge even sturdier.

Logan soon settled into his new life. By the time their first litter was born the following spring, he’d mastered his new body and had already begun teaching his mate’s previous litter new and inventive ways of cutting, processing and building with timber. Their dam was soon the strongest and their lodge the sturdiest in the entire river. Just as the guardian had promised him, Logan and his mate lived out their days in happiness and tranquility. The pair was as amorous a couple as their species had ever seen. They even took to mating outside of the female’s estrus cycle. They mated for love and pleasure more than they did for reproduction. With the new techniques their father taught them, their children became the most prosperous clan of beavers in the valley, and soon every river and stream in the area was filled with their offspring. The pair lived to a ripe old age, even by human standards, marked by neither disease or predation. 

A few years after Logan’s transformation, he was out by the river bank near his lodge gathering wood for the dam when he suddenly felt a familiar presence in the air. He ran over to a log by the banks and began beating it with his tail, a signal that normally meant predators were nearby, but in this instance was a signal for his clan to gather. They would have guests soon. A few minutes later he’d gathered on the shoreline of their lake with his mate, and all 8 kits from their two most recent litters, they had proven to be a very fertile couple in recent seasons. From the treeline they smelled and heard their honored guests approaching until two great anthro ursine figures emerged into the sunlight followed by two smaller toddling cubs. It was the guardian of their valley, her lifemate, and their two children. Logan and the father bear looked into each other’s eyes with recognition. Logan’s human memories had faded away with his transformation, but he still had hazy recollections of when the bright eyes of the father bear were once the terrified eyes of a young human being dragged towards a certain death. The beaver knew that he had met this being in a previous form, in a previous life. The father bear, whose name was Chay, smiled at the father beaver kindly. They had once been reluctant adversaries, but now they met as friends and brethren of the forest. Logan and his family all stood on their hind legs. The kits from this year, having a little difficulty balancing on their tails, were helped by their older siblings. Then, all in sync, they fell on all fours pressing their muzzles into the ground as a form of bow to the royal family of their domain. 

Misabe knelt down to her precious son and daughter then said,

“This is the beaver family I was telling you about. The father beaver was once a human like your father, now he’s the sire of the most prosperous beaver clan in the valley.” 

“Was he a bad man like the others?” The girl cub asked her mother.

“Not all humans who bring harm against nature are all evil.” Chay said. “Sometimes men who have good hearts get entangled with evil designs against their will and make bad decisions out of cowardice.”

“But he’s been given a chance to start over and work off his karmic debt to this land, and has been quite happy in his new life.” Misabe said.

“Is that why he isn’t a girl?” The boy cub asked, confused.

“I changed everyone from the human camp in different ways to suit their transgressions against our land.” Misabe said. “His form is just the most appropriate to his crimes. As you both grow you’ll become better judges of how to use the power of this place in the most fair and efficient ways to keep it prosperous.”

The cubs both absorbed this information with levity for a moment, then suddenly the girl cub exclaimed,

“Ok, but can we play with the babies now!?”

“Yeah!” The boy club said. “You promised we could go swimming with the kits!”

“Yes but you have to be gentle with the smaller ones, they’re not yet a year old yet and are still fragile, understand?”

“Yes papa!” The cubs cried excitedly in unison and then ran over to play games and swim with the beaver kits. Both sets of parents sat down on the river bank together watching their children play. Logan and his mate’s hearts swelled with pride watching their kits play with the pair of cubs. It was a high honor to host the guardian and her family. Misabe began scratching under Logan’s chin causing the beaver to excitedly stamp his foot rhythmically on the ground.

“You should be proud to have such a strong and prosperous family.” Misabe said to the male beaver. “I’m glad to see you’re doing so well.”

Logan chittered something to his mate and the two adult beavers ran off behind a bush and began rolling out some of the finest logs they had cut recently to offer to the pair of anthro ursines for their cooking fire.

“Thank you for this gift!” Misabe said. She then knelt down and put her paw to the belly of the female beaver, giving her a blessing. “May your next spring’s litter be as healthy and successful as this one’s and may no harm come to them or their descendants.” The two beavers chittered with gratitude and fell to all fours once again.

As the sun began to set Chay gathered the wood from the beavers in his arms and called his cubs back.

“Time to go children, you can come back and go swimming tomorrow.”

The children protested then reluctantly got out of the river and shook the water from their fur. The two families said their goodbyes and then the bears walked back into the treeline and towards their den. The girl cub looked back at the large beaver clan gathered on the shore one more time before disappearing into the trees with her family.

“Will Chaska and I get to use the power of the valley to make humans happy like that one day?” The girl cub asked her parents.

“Duh Bly, that’s why mama and papa brought us out here remember?” The boy cub said teasing his sister.

“Chaska, don’t belittle your sister for asking questions.” Chay said sternly.

“I didn’t bring you out here to show you how to use your powers to change humans.” Misabe said to her cubs. “I brought you here to show you how to use them justly and fairly. Not every human that comes into our domain is evil, some are just curious or love nature for what it is. The goddess instructed us only to use our powers to change those whose destiny it is to be a part of the matrix of life here. Those that come here to do harm like the loggers, and those whose hearts are pure enough to deserve the blessings of our home.” Misabe finished the last sentence looking affectionately into the eyes of her mate. 

“I think mama and papa are about to be gross again.” Bly whispered to her brother with a giggle.

“I heard that!” Chay said theatrically, roaring and picking up both cubs and throwing them other his shoulders to the squealing delight of the two young ones.

“Papa, can you tell us the story of how you and mom met after dinner?” Bly asked 

“I tell that story almost every night. Don’t you want to hear a new one? I thought you didn’t like the gross romantic stuff anyway.” Chay said as he carried both cubs on his shoulders.

“Well I kinda like the gross stuff, but Chaska doesn’t.” Bly said shyly.

“Nuh uh!” her brother exclaimed. “You’re the one who doesn’t like kissing and stuff!”

Misabe and Chay both chuckled. 

“Don’t fret children, your father will tell the story of how we met, gross stuff and all.” Misabe said affectionately, patting Chay’s rump causing the male bear to jump with surprise. 

“You better watch it my queen, or we’re going to have more cubs to gross out with our love before next autumn.” Chay said teasingly, leaning over to peck Misabe’s lips.

“Ewww!” The cubs both exclaimed in unison and the couple laughed mirthfully as they ascended into the hills and towards their den.