Chris the Cerberus “Ha… haah…” Chris took a few uneven breaths while he walked through the mansion. Tonight’s rescue mission couldn’t have gone more wrong. He’d been separated from his entire team and attacked half a dozen times by zombies already. He was already starting to get worn out from all the fighting, low on ammo and limping. The moment he was somewhere even mildly calm, he took a moment to stop and rest. “Damn it, Wesker… Jill… Where are you?” He set himself against a wall and took a deep breath. He’d found his way to a balcony or something. Since he was outside, he was hopeful that the fresh air would help him relax. It didn’t taste quite as dusty and rotten as the inside of the mansion, though the dampness of the night meant it didn’t really help much. Taking the break didn’t help either. Once he’d settled against the wall, it wasn’t very long before he was slumping down, taking a seat and wincing. “Should have known…” He grit his teeth as the pain set in. His hand reflexively darted to his arm. He’d bandaged up the wound and applied a makeshift antiseptic that Rebecca had taught him about, but it was still painful as hell. “Damn dogs…” He took another uneven breath while he tried to fight through the pain. He’d managed to avoid most of the zombies, but trying to get out of the mansion earlier had gotten him tackled by one of the beasts that got Joseph. They’d taken a chunk out of him, and the wound was starting to burn. He could feel his pulse while his gripped it and tried to breathe through the pain. He couldn’t do it. “Shouldn’t have stopped…” He groaned. As if in response, something off in the distance barked, agreeing with him. “Crap.” Chris got his feet under him and steadied the hand on his gun. He couldn’t see them just yet, but he had no doubt it was one of the dogs. He didn’t have enough time to stand up before the confirmed he was still underestimating this place. A furious bark rang through the air and two of the large Doberman creatures leapt over the edge of the balcony and charged him. One of them was clearly larger than the other, and Chris could tell its glassy eyes were just slightly clearer than the ones he’d fought before. He shot for that one. The bullet hit home, striking the heavy beast right in the chest. It wasn’t enough to do Chris any good though. He expected the smaller dog to reach him. He could see it going for his leg. So it sinking its teeth into him was something he’d prepared for. The bigger cog charging forward unfazed and going straight for his gun arm wasn’t. When they both hit home, he knew he was dead. “Aaaaah!” Chris screamed, desperate. He wasn’t sure why. He knew no one was left to hear him. He could barely hear himself. The pain rang in his ears as the fangs pierced his flesh. His vision went red and he slammed his eyes shut. He was faintly aware of his gun going off again as it clattered away, taking his last hope with it. “Damnit! Wesker! Jill!” He flailed reflexively reaching out to grab the massive beast on his arm and throw it away. It didn’t let go. All the tugging did was make its fangs tear at him. He opened an eye to glare at it. Though his vision was blurring then, he could have sworn it glared back. It certainly growled. In spite of everything, that growl made him shiver. Maybe it was blood loss, but something about the large beast made him run cold. He couldn’t even keep his grip on it after that. “Crap…” His hand slid off of it. “This is it…” He was sure of it, he was dying. He was starting to get dizzy no, and the pain was even fading. All that was left was the pressure of the bite. What he couldn’t figure out was why the monster wasn’t eating him. Neither of them was actually. In fact, once Christ stopped struggling, they let go of him almost calmly. Chris even saw the smaller one back off. The big one didn’t though. It just changed is aim. Still growing, it let Chris’s arm fall and got face to face with him. Chris could smell its rotten, warm breath. He could feel it smelling him, getting his scent for some reason. After a moment, it even stopped growling. Dizzy as he was, the monster almost reminded him of his own dogs from childhood. But it was a monster. Chris knew that when he caught a look at its glassy, lifeless eyes again. Its face wasn’t even whole. Patches of fur were missing, revealing torn red flesh and the sight of muscles underneath. It had to die. Chris reached for his knife slowly. His arm was burning again, full of pins and needles as though it had just fallen asleep, but he could still move it. All it would take was one good strike. At least, that’s what he had to hope. Bad luck though, he was wrong. He managed to get in the swing, swiping the monster right across its dead face. That got it to leap off of him. Unfortunately, was all the swipe had earned him. The other dog was still waiting nearby. It hit him with a full boy tackle before he could even think about steadying himself. Then, he was on his belly. A monster on top of him was ready o tear into him and his knife clanged off into the darkness to join his gun. He had even less hope of survival now. He probably couldn’t even take another swing if he had wanted to. His body was running even colder now. Another furious bark from the big dog made his ears ring and what little fight was left in him drained out of him alongside the blood he was sure was pooling on the floor now. His vision was fading, and he was going numb. Still, he could smell the blood. His nose twitched at the coppery scent. It lingered with the rotten, musty breath of the dog on top of him. Something about the smell threw him off though. He recognized it, but it was different. It was too clear. Even stranger, it didn’t smell unpleasant. “Wha…” Chris mumbled. Then he whined. He blinked trying to see what was happening. Everything was too dark and grey to make out. All he could focus on was the smell. It was getting clearer, clearer than his thoughts in fact. He was still light-headed, just sniffing at the air, the smell of blood. Without thinking he pulled his arm closer, following that smell. And then, he licked it. Another bark gave him pause. More importantly though, it jolted him awake. He wasn’t cold anymore, or numb. The pain in his arm shot through his whole body, first as pins and needles, then as burning, stretching. The smell of blood got stronger then. He couldn’t tell where from. Every part of his body felt like it erupted with pain, and the whole of him felt soaked and damp with the stuff. He tried to scream, but he couldn’t anymore. What came out instead was gruffer: first a growl, then a whine. Finally it was a howl. Chris couldn’t even begin to guess what was happening through the pain. The beasts around him howled with him, the big one sounded proud. He liked that. He was aware most of his toes and nose stretching, tearing and thinking the flesh as they did. He was also aware of the clothes on his back tearing and stretching, though he barely noticed it through the pain. Finally, he was made aware of the tongue on his forehead warmly calming him. Chris’s head felt warm then, through the damp of the blood, he could focus on that warmth, cleaning him. He lifted his head to allow the dog to massage his head. It felt nice. It even drew another whine from him. With that licking, much of the pain faded too. The pins and needles stayed, but the burning was mostly gone. Soon, Chris felt like he could stand. He struggled at first, stuck under rags and the weight of the beast above him, but when he shifted away from the warm licking and tried to get his feet under him, the beast on top of him moved, standing up alongside him. Soon enough, they were both standing properly on all fours, the rags left behind in the blood beneath them. Warmth rushed back when he stood, and with a sudden strength surging back into him, Chris shivered, shaking some of the still wet blood off of him. He wasn’t quite sure where it had come from, suddenly. Most of his body was fine after all. There was a pain still in his front leg, one that pained him when he stood, but he was uninjured, he was pretty sure. A loud, furious bark drew his attention to the musty, rotten smell that the blood had covered though. That would explain it. He turned his nose to the larger dog that had barked at him. And he shivered. Some of this blood wasn’t human. He knew new, he had struck the bigger beast. And then he had lost to it. His nose twitched nervously, and he glanced back, trying to look at the larger dog. He was a blur, but Chris could just make out a gash that shouldn’t have been there. He could smell the other beast’s blood, still fresh and barely healing. Ashamed and scared, he lowered his head. The beast beside him did as well. Thankfully, the larger beast was merciful. He barked again, still furious, but commanding now. Chris lowered his head further, reflexively, and his leg burned. The winner wanted his claim. Chris could smell that. Among the usual rotten smell of wet fur, he could smell the larger beast’s need, his arousal. Somehow it even broke through the delicious coppery scent around him. He was embarrassed to say that he found that scent even more delicious than the scent of the blood. His tail started to wag and he dropped his head even lower. The idea of being rutted was strangely, overwhelmingly appealing, even over the idea of facing the beast. An old memory buzzed somewhere, of strong men and strong smells. After the rush of battle, nothing could be better. In short order, he smelled his own scent as well, though it was nowhere near as strong as the beast that approached him. A strong grip took him from behind, just like it had many times before. A furious bark and an eager whine pierced the air alongside a thunderclap as the larger beast set his weight on him. Even leaning forward as much as he could, Chris’s injured leg burned with the weight. But, he didn’t care. In that moment he was too eager to rut to think about the pain. And soon enough, he was. There was a jolt and then a flash as the large dog thrust above him. It was wild and unfocused, but every bit as passionate as his small buzzing memories could recall. He leaned in hard, whining at the feeling. Then, he allowed himself to relax. His tongue rolled out, tasting the blood on the old wood, overwhelming him more and making him sink into the pure joy of the fight. He came in moments, before the beast had even finished penetrating him. He couldn’t handle the feeling overwhelming him as the dog thrust deeper and deeper into him with each movement. He whimpered at the pain, but couldn’t stop drooling over the pleasure of it with his cock and ass pulsing wildly at each thrust. The beast next to them comforted him with a lick on his forehead again, but that only made it more exciting. Things grew even more exciting as the large beast started to growl again, making clear his aim was to claim Chris entirely. Chris struggled reflexively at that thought, still wanting to maintain some idea of control. His nails scratched at the wood beneath him, and he shook hard again, splattering more blood about. It did nothing to help, only forcing he vicious thrusting to strike at new spots deep inside and push his drooling into greater heights. The larger beast was desperate to lay his claim, grabbing on to Chris’s hips tightly and pounding harder each moment. Chris felt that desperation growing at the base of his tail. The dog was warm and musky smelling. He could feel his dick pulsing inside of him and smell the scent of cum from the both of them lingering with the blood. But the beast wasn’t going to be satisfied with just leaving his scent in Christ. Something about that felt right though, mostly it was the throbbing size of the thing pushing against his tail and stretching his ass. He whined at the feeling of it pressing in, suddenly desperate himself with want to feel it. With one big whimper, it finally pressed in, stretching him wide and making his own cock spray wildly at the feeling. The beast licking at him went harder, tickling at his ears to give him something, anything to pay attention to other than the pleasure and the pain, but at that moment he couldn’t even smell the blood anymore. There was just the rotten musk of the mighty beast on top of him and the feeling of his overwhelming strength. Chris sat in that feeling, drooling mindlessly and scratching at the floor like the beast he was. He couldn’t begin to tell for how long. Then, a whistle broke the air, shooting through the silence like a bullet and scratching at the dog’s mind. It was painful, but thankfully, it was followed by a comforting voice that calmed both him, and the larger beasts above him. “My my, how did you wind up like this, Chris?” --- “Cerberus, Mark II. Combat performance is adequate. Weaponization potential… uncertain, but promising.” Wesker stared at the screen thoughtfully, tapping his chin. He had been more than a bit surprised by the scene, but he couldn’t pretend he didn’t enjoy it. Chris leaning so submissively as the larger dogs fucked and licked him was astonishingly arousing. He had to tape it for research purposes, but he made note to keep a copy for his own use after all was said and done. “The new strain of the virus that Berkin cooked up has had some unexpected side effects. Potentially useful ones.” A bark drew his attention away from the show on the monitor. With a smirk, he looked down at the show in his lap. Chris had set his head eagerly in the man’s lap the moment he’d seen him. This new Doberman had followed him without an ounce of question or training, unlike the usual beasts. Wesker rewarded him, giving him a few casual bits of attention as he worked. Whenever he stopped for more than a second, the pitiful creature looked up at him with those glassy eyes and whimpered. “Subject is highly obedient. Though, I suppose that was always the case.” Wesker scratched behind Chris’s ear and the dog pushed more eagerly into his lap. It was a very deliberate motion, one that Wesker was, admittedly, familiar with coming from his subordinate. “We may have to do something to address the arousal that seems to come along with the infection though…” He smirked, and put a stop to his recording. “At least, after I’m done with him.” Chris whimpered. He could feel his master getting hard as he pet him. He licked his lips as he started to smell it. The arousal was familiar, and nearly as tantalizing as the smell of the human’s blood. His tail started to wag as he thought about tasting both. Wesker was a good man and a great leader. That was one of the few memories that still buzzed in his head. Chris knew he would make a good lay as well, and certainly a great alpha. He drooled at the thought, positively slobbering at the thought of his master growing fur and spilling his blood as he had just hours ago. His tongue shot out and licked at the human’s pants eagerly. The blood of the other, stronger dogs still lingered, making Chris shake even more. “I suppose celebrations are in order.” Proud as he was of the ‘success’ of his experiment, Wesker couldn’t stop himself from grinning as he watched the pathetic beast that used to be his best man whimper over his groin. “Be a good boy, Chris. How about you show master how much you love him?” He smirked and reached down to undo his belt for the dog. Somehow, he was taken by surprise when Chris responded with an eager bark, and bit slowly into his exposed thigh.