It’s a quiet room, there is no sound except for sucking sound. A Doberman had her head in between a rabbit’s legs, bouncing up and down, happily in her duties. The rabbit was wearing a pair of jeans, just far enough down to let the enthusiastic bitch work. Her own clothes were nowhere to be seen, only a utility belt that was resting over the chair seems out place.

The Doberman had the pin for her badge through her right nipple. The rabbit, was relaxed, legs spread, he starts to count the money, putting stacks of thousand. There were already five piles on the table, causing him to smile, "Looks like someone has been a bad girl. Now where did my bitch earn so much?"

She lets out a little whimper, pulling her head back, his tip is just barely out of her mouth, "I cleared all my accounts." She whimpers, worried he wouldn’t like the answer. A hand moving to rest in between her ears in reassurance, setting down the stack on the table. He pushes her head down to his sack, she lets out her tongue to flick over it.

"Don’t worry bitch, you did as I asked, I didn’t expect you to go down a bad path for you. It wouldn’t be good to have a prison bitch." He reassures her. He was her only real option for magic, and she was desperate to have some control in a changed world.

He moves both hands toward her head, resting his thumbs in between her eyes, shifting back enough to have himself far enough away in case she bites. "Now Officer, try to be quiet if this hurts. Someone might call the cops if you scream."

All he hears is a whimper in response, resolve is in her eyes, his thumbs start pressing down, acting as if he was trying to break through with his digits. He grits his teeth, the feeling of ice cold heat flooding his hands, as if he had shoved them into a snow bank and held them there. He could tell the sensation had moved into her brow ridge, letting his fingers sink in. Though it is something else then her brain, he had heard of the psychic plane, and seen glimpses, but now, now he was embedding it into this woman. Well, a shard, he hears her whimpering as her skin stays pierced, barely seeing his digits should be buried deep into her skull.

Her wound starts slowly healing, the outside forming into a new socket, he is careful, treading the line of not long enough, and perfect timing. When he pulls out, it brings out a yellow sclera with a long feline shaped pupil staring out. The newly born psychic organ fixated on him.

He lets out a sigh of satisfaction, thinking to himself he needs a drink. "I’ll go get it." He hears the soft voice. Watching her attempt to climb to her feet, head still filled with pain, hand resting on it. A whine as she goes to grab the whiskey she now knew where it was.

"Grab a glass for yourself hellhound." His voice soft, but carries well through his apartment. She stops, wanting to hate her new name, but she knew, it is her owner’s right to change her name.

He smiles at the swaying ass, a docked tail resting above her cheeks,  his mind starts to wander, his name Is Farom, from when it was only needed to have a last name if you were nobility, with some craftsmen using it to mark themselves.  His name had been unique when he started walking the earth, and it would probably still be when he leaves the home.

He can hear the sound of a sudden surprised yelp right after opening a cabinet, causing him to chuckle. She hadn’t realized her abilities yet, but she would grow into them.  Magic had been unique, for the most part, until last year.

It wasn’t known by most, but those in the know, or old enough to be called ancients and respected or stealthy enough to listen in, they found out about the experiments, ‘Successful failure.’ He chuckles once again at the term, of self replicating nanotechnology.

Most Fae had been tempted to burn the planet and seal the dimension, a few of their circles had been destroyed, with only minimal loss of life actually happening.  They finally realized most of the techs components were natural.  It didn’t help that the biggest source was blood which contains traces of iron. The description used by the scientists were to a standard carbon life.

They had realized a mechanized pandemic, that brought some form of magic to all.  Mostly, the ability to store mana, use was another matter.  He smiles as Hellhound returns, already realizing how clunky the name is.  Changing it to Hel, the Norse pantheon wouldn’t care, her head bobs in response to the change.  Hand holding two glasses, both with ice, she hands him one and sets hers down on the table.
Listening as she pours to his thoughts, she realizes she was a little bit quick in trying to get magic.

The rabbit lifts the amber liquid to his lips, taking a small pull, letting the heat rest in his stomach.  His mind moves back to what the nanites actually did, having escaped their testing phase, they helped a small few demonstrate new abilities.  Some are simple, mancers had always been common, they could be considered the peasants of magical communities.  The fact they needed sources for their magic making them so low.

Well they were so low, the nanites helped those who didn’t have a steady source gain one.  Strangely, most mancers were born of areas of need, not plentiful sources, so pyromancer in tundra, hydromancers in deserts, and electromancers around power stations, mostly the workers.

The electromancers are unique in both being a plentiful source and needed areas.  This actually made the rabbit swirl his drink in thought.  Ignoring the Doberman who had her head resting on his right leg, taking sips of her own drink.

Elementalists and elementals were the next tier up, elementals were always born in plentiful areas, constantly generating the source making them cyclical so more elementals around one area, the more elementals are born there.

The elder elementals has always been sentient, considered respected and revered ancients, they can move to areas voided, and replenish in years.  The change made it months, trees had regrown in the Amazon at paces faster then loggers could cut down.

He chuckles, he had participated in a few fights there to destroy the logging, now, it felt like all his efforts had been piss in the wind.  He takes a full swallow, Hel quick to refill his glass, knowing his wants.  His thoughts are schooled, keeping her from knowing the lives he has taken, for now.

Taking another sip, moving to the next rung.  Knowing he skipped elemetalists, due to them being similar to mancers.  Spiritualists and psychics, one speaking to a lower plane, the other a higher.  Psychics were always rarities, most unable to lock their minds, dragons were the best, now, he was unsure.  The fact being most couldn’t handle the extra sensory input, even if they could close it.  He notices Hel’s eye closes for a moment, trying it, before it opens again.  Some having gone crazy due to it.

Spiritualists had a worse problem, they couldn’t just close their eyes, most figured out ways to use them, like he had, summon a corporeal body, or banish them.

His next rung was mages, they might be higher on the ladder, they learned to use their mana through spells, causing a variety of the effects that the others could, with only a mana cost associated.  Depending on the spell, and cost associated could be temporary, or permanent.  These were also sometimes called cultivators, having found ways to grow their mana pools.

The last were ability holders, those species with specific powers, like void travel, extra dimensional storage, life creation, and other random assortments.  Quite a few magic users found themselves with one after the incident.  Mostly just storage, there was talk of others, but most took it with a grain of salt, believing they had hidden their strengths.

Farom shakes his head at the thoughts, he had given a third eye, so he now knew he had changed.  His eyes fall on Hel, lust stirring in him again, crossing over to her, “Get on the bed, I need to mount my bitch.” His voice leaving no room for seconds thoughts.  She is quick, climbing up and spreading her legs, face down ass up.  Her glass left on the floor.

He moves up behind her, stroking her ass, kicking off his socks, his pants left behind at his previous seat. His shaft at full mast and pressing against her puffy womanhood, the depths seeming greedy, taking him in quickly, his hips now start a slow steady rhythmic thrust.  The untrained psychic was enjoying two sources of pleasure, the feel of a cock sinking into the depths, and her own depths being filled.  The pleasure causing her to clench, making her muscles repeat the action that leads to more bursts of the euphoria.

Her hips slide back to meet his, making the slapping sounds louder and louder.  The clenching slit calming just enough to keep from not keeping him locked.  It isn’t a slow build, it is like a rocket for her.  With one final thrust from Farom, he sets them both off, his cum pumping into her pussy, feeling it milk out every drop, not letting her pull away.  His fingers trace a heart over her ass, and he watches it form.

Inside it, a rabbit’s head forms in a frontal view, like it was prepared to charge.  The tip of the heart filled up with a little blue.
He gives her ass a smack, and rolls off, a sucking sound coming from their connection.  The slit doesn’t let a drop dribble out.

Hel knew tomorrow when she met up with him what she needed to do, even in her dazed state.  She curls up under his chin when he lays down, claiming her spot and knowing she might soon have to fight for it.

Her three eyes close, drifting to the land of dreams, the promise of sweet dreams assured.  Farom rests his eyes, hand on her head, holding her close for the night.  His own body not needing the imperative to sleep just yet.