Ristin never expected the summoning to work, much less to be granted his dearest wish. 

	The raccoon, a slender male with a soft, fluffy tail, had read the old spellbook on a whim. Strangest of all,  the creature that popped into existence in front of him did not look particularly demonic.

	The summoned furson wore a gray business suit and his fur was a brilliant white. He looked for all the world like a ferret. Even the horns on his head were tiny, gold-tipped things, not the curved spikes Ristin expected.

	“Uh, hello?” Ristin said, waving as he sat the book down unto the floor of his apartment.

	The visitor looked him over.

	“A bit small, for a male. And, do you usually greet your guests naked?” the ferret thing said.

	“Oh.” the raccoon hastily covered his crotch. 

	“Do not worry. I like what I see.” the demon smiled.

	“The book said I should be naked when I read the incantation?” Ristin finally mustered up enough courage to say.

	“Is that so?” the demon levitated the book over to him and leafed through the pages. “By the way, you may call me Valrith Kelm, or the Sigil Prince.”

	“And which aspect are you?” Ristin asked, bowing slightly. The old royalty would probably like that.

	“I am Valrith of Blood.” the Sigil Prince waved a paw, and the spellbook turned into ash.

	“Are you going to...kill me?” Ristin shifted on his paws, uncomfortable.

	“Nonsense! I will grant you one wish.” the ferret smiled, showing off  his sharp teeth. “Have a seat and think of what you want most.”

	And thus, the raccoon ended up on a small couch, looking at the mustelid demon standing before him tapping a paw on the floor.

	“I wish you to take good care of me.” Ristin finally said.

	“Not riches, not fame, not power?” asked the ferret, looking a bit disappointed.

	“I'm sure you can twist those wishes somehow.” the procyonid grinned, watching as the weasely creature paced before him.

	“Alright, fine.” Valrith Kelm produced a glass of wine from thin air, and floated it over to Ristin's paw. “Drink that, and I promise to take good care of you.”

	“No tricks?” Ristin accepted the glass, sniffing it.

	“You will live a life of your wildest dreams.” the Sigil Prince promised.

	Ristin downed the glass, and felt the cool, red liquid slide down his throat. The wine had no bite, and the taste hinted at nothing as mundane as ordinary wine. He looked up at the ferret. Looking into was ruby eyes suddenly made him sleepy. Or, was it the wine? Realizing something was wrong, Ristin tried to get up, and to his panic found that his paws would not move. He slipped into unconsciousness, his last sight a very pleased weasel demon.

	VVV

	When he next awoke, Ristin found himself hanging in the air. He groggily looked around, feeling whatever held him up, feebly struggling to escape. He tried to move his claws, or kick, but found he could not. A strange breeze played across his shoulders and thighs, and he felt strangely light between his legs. Then, his vision clearing of the last bits of drug, he looked down.

	His jaw dropped. Down below his belly, where his cock and balls should hung now rested the pink, delicate lips of a vagina. The exquisite sculpting of flesh made it seem natural, a part of him. He could even feel it, the sex organ shivering somehow, WITHIN him. He whimpered, and looked at his limbs.

	Where once he had four paws, arms, and legs, he now had stumps strapped to something metal holding him up. He wiggled them experimentally. He would crawl, perhaps rub his stumps against things, but running of touching were now out of the question.

	I should be panicking, thought Ristin as he looked at his body, now a part of some hanging ornament in a silk-draped chamber. But, as he examined his surroundings and felt the new changes wrought on his body, the procyonid found himself enjoying it. Wiggling around, he found that a dildo had been shoved up under his tail, and the slight spikes of pleasure in this helpless state made for a blissful half-hour of getting used to his state.

	“I see you are enjoying yourself, pet.” the Sigil Prince, no longer dressed, stalked into the room. Behind him followed a number of fursons. Tigers, horses, even a wolverine and a particularly muscular rabbit.

	“As I was saying, my friends, this pet was quite a project. The books took a while to prepare. I sprinkled each one with warnings about my abuse of wishes.  Only when I knew he would wish for something that would ultimately make him unique did I call to him from the book, and subtly reeled him in to read the incantation.” the horned ferret's words echoed through the chamber as if it were bare of the cloth that hung everywhere and pooled on the floor.

	Ristin shivered as he watched the crowd of gentlefurs, all naked, admire him. Some asked for permission from Valrith, and the albino nodded, watching his raccoon squirm.

	“Of course you can, Lord Lim! I suspect a little action is all my pet needs, now!” the Sigil Prince waved, and materialized a small ladder leaning against the pole.
	
	Ristin thought maybe Valrith was speaking to the tiger or maybe the wolverine, but the one climbing up towards him was a lapine. Taller than most, with a rippling six-pack and ears gathered back with a bronze loop, the rabbit looked every bit the barbarian hero of an ancient legend. His barely restrained maleness, half-hidden by a leather loincloth, completed the look. Ristin wondered if perhaps Lord Lim was indeed a barbarian when the lapine grabbed his headfur and pulled, leaning in for a kiss.

	Balancing on the ladder as easily as if he stood on the solid ground, Lim explored the raccoon's mouth with his tongue, casting aside the leather loincloth with a grunt. Below, the other watched in fascination as the rough love-making began.

	Ristin cried out, slowly impaled on the rabbit's thick foot-long shaft. Quivering pussy lips spread, drawing gasps of pained pleasure from the raccoon and growling panting from Lord Lim. Ristin found himself rammed again and again by so much flesh that he could not hope to contain it in his newly-made vagina. Juices dripped down, staining the pole and ladder, running down the stubby lower limbs of the procyonid in streams.

	The sensation of being ridden by a savage lapine, taken with nowhere to escape and nothing to do about it, Ristin felt his new muscles squeeze around the cock stuffing his pussy. He found himself thrusting back against Lord Lim, kissing the rabbit's chest and crying for more. Everything danced in the haze of pleasure, a pounding unlike any he ever felt. When he climaxed, it was not the spurting, quick cum, but a beating, quivering release which left him hanging, drained and whimpering as Lim continued humping into the raccoon. Moments later, Ristin felt his insides flood with hot, sticky seed, Lord Lim hilting in him repeatedly. With another grunt, the cock was drawn out of him, the raccoon actually feeling the length sliding out with a wet pop as his pussy emptied of cum.

	“Not bad. You will make a fine bitch.” Lord Lim rumbled, climbing down from the ladder, leaving behind the scent of sweat and pleasure that lingered in the raccoon's nose.

	The other praised their fellow and the new pet's resilience. The Sigil Prince nodded happily and said something Ristin thought sounded like “all thanks to him”, leading his guests away. With a sigh, Ristin watched as the pleasure fluids dripped from his fur unto the floor below, wondering when he would be used again. It felt good to be a pet. The Sigil Prince did take good care of him, and always would.