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"writing": "[b][u][center]The Bonds of Need\nChapter 4\nFor a-lycotonum\nBy Draconicon[/center][/u][/b]\n \n \n \n \n \n\n\n\nIn.\n\nOut.\n\nIn.\n\nOut.\n\nIn.\n\nOut.\n\nThe rhythmic thrusts of his hips and the warm embrace of Shereeza’s pussy all but consumed him, the Stud command driving his Hellhound side to supremacy and forbidding him to do anything to slow the breeding rut. Vitus watched through eyes that were barely his own as the tattooed, mutated elf moaned from the hard fuck, her legs splayed out to either side as she was fucked into the wagon floor.\n\nThere were voices behind him, Katya and Piers and who knew who else. He was humiliated that he had decided to do this, that he was fucking the once-slave of the group into the ground while everyone watched –\n\n[i]Like a dog. Like a goddamn dog.[/i]\n\nBut what else was he supposed to do? They needed power, strength, something that would carry them through to the end of this mission, and the only way that they were going to get that was with someone else in the pack.\n\nThrust.\n\nThrust.\n\nThrust.\n\nThe pleasure kept him from thinking too hard about it, his churning, hairy balls slapping against the elf’s ass and the base of her meager tail as he fucked her. The heat inside was getting stronger, and he knew that the power of Melchiresa was already spreading to her.\n\n“V-Vitus…Master…”\n\nShereeza was barely awake. He’d started this while she was asleep, rutting her, breaking her in and keeping her from having a chance to think about it. A kindness, or so he hoped. It might have been the needs that he had felt from the start, and the Hellhound side of him was more than willing to indulge in those, to grow the pack, to knot and fuck and cum and [i]breed[/i] more of the pack for them to use.\n\nIn, out, in, out, faster and harder, knot growing by the second. It sucked at the elf’s pussy, pulling it out a bit, making it puffy and swollen. Was it already turning to a bitch-cunt? He didn’t know, but the Hellhound wanted to.\n\nIt leaned back, looming over the once-elf, and it grinned. The slit-shape of a human or elf or any other two-legged creature had already started to warp, puffing and starting to round out. The swollen flesh was begging for the touch of a canine rather than the two-leggers that she would have fucked before.\n\nThis was her purpose.\n\nThis was her place.\n\nVitus grunted in the back of his mind as they fell over her again, ramming in, out, in, out, knot popping with each thrust. The fact that he was doing this horrible and pleasurable thing kept driving his change home to him. No more pretending, no more acting as if he was a good person. No good person would do this to another, no matter how great their needs were.\n\nSplash, squish, squelch. Her wetness kept making it louder, and he would have whimpered if he’d been in the front of the mind, controlling them. Instead, all he could do was whine in his own head as the pleasure was forced on him, the need and want of the dog so powerful that he couldn’t resist.\n\nAs they humped away, as they forced the bitch’s legs up and back, the transformation continued. There was no holy protection for Shereeza, no great magical aid that would slow down the transformation. As the black fur began to sprout from her groin, overwhelming the small collection of scales that had started to spread across her body, she moaned and accepted it. She pushed her hips up, grinding back against him, fucking herself against his knot as he took her like the breeding bitch she was.\n\n[i]Not…not…[/i]\n\nThe Hellhound pushed him down, forcing the breeding harder, deeper, ramming into her so hard that the wagon shook. In, out, in, out, popping that knot until she was all but gaping from it. The Hellhound’s breath was hot, burning, scalding, leaving him and all the others sweating. The air was rich with the smell of warm bodies, and it was a deep reminder of the pleasure that he could take from her at any point.\n\nThat he could demand of Katya.\n\nThat he could force on Neena.\n\n[i]Alpha…Stud…Head of the Pack…[/i]\n\nIt was going right to his head, making everything spin as he tried to keep himself together. It was nearly impossible, and his breath came harder and faster as Shereeza kept changing under him.\n\nHer ankles cracked, her heel rising up and her toes pointing as her feet began to change. The beginnings of paws were slowly taking shape, though the fur had yet to grow that far down her legs. He could feel the muscle in her legs thickening, getting stronger, more powerful, and the slight softness in her stomach disappeared against him, replaced with thick abs that were hardening by the second.\n\n[i]Strong…strong bitch…[/i]\n\nThe Hellhound growled at her, and despite the lack of transformation in her face, Shereeza growled back.\n\n“He’s breaking her,” Piers said, his voice distant.\n\n“Yes.”\n\n“We can’t –”\n\n“We have to.”\n\nKatya was fulfilling her word; Piers wouldn’t stop this, no matter how much Vitus might have wanted him to. There was no way for Shereeza to be saved now, anyway; she was already half-transformed, her tail turning from a scaly stump to something fluffy, something that was getting longer by the second as their rut continued.\n\nThey rolled, her sliding on top of him, thumping her hips down against his knot again and again. She arched her back, her breasts growing out, little nipples popping out along her chest and belly for the pups that she’d eventually have. He groaned as he felt her pushing back, her puffy cookie of a pussy grinding down on a knot almost too big for her, almost taking it to the halfway point before riding it again.\n\nHer eyes were changing, turning to a deep, burnished gold as she looked down on him. The thick black pelt of a Hellhound, streaked with the same red lines that his coat had, was growing out of her belly, her chest, down her arms and up her neck. Little by little, her ears were growing out and spreading up along the sides of her head, moving to the right place for a Hound, and her fingers curled into thicker digits topped with blunted black claws.\n\n“Rrrrr…”\n\nHer growl was almost what one would call cute. Almost.\n\nShe leaned over him, her breasts dangling in his face, pushing out bigger than hers had ever been. The sheer vitality and fertility that she represented called to the core of the Hellhound, and he growled back as he grabbed her hips, pulling her down on his knot again and again, ramming up into her. She surrendered to him, whimpering and growling and yipping by turns.\n\nDid either of them have a hint of humanity left in that moment? Vitus didn’t; he was consumed by the bestial urge to hump and fuck and rut and breed. There wasn’t a thought in his head but the feeling of her pussy and the urge to fill it with his seed. He would mark her, take her, deliver her to Melchiresa and get the reward for growing their pack. Just a little bit more, a little bit deeper. Soon, soon, soon, she would be bloated with his cum, and the transformation would take her, and she would be his. She would be [i]his[/i], his bitch, his pack, his –\n\nThey howled together as they came. He arched his back from the wagon floor, his knot popping past her pussy lips, and she howled as her head tilted back, the beginning of her muzzle finally growing out. It came quickly, her teeth sharpening and pushing past her lips, her nose and jaw extending and joining to create a proper bestial face. Her eyes, glowing gold with a hint of red around them, closed tight as she screamed in her pleasure, soaking his crotch with the juices of her need and her pleasure.\n\nAnd then…then it was done. He felt it, felt the heat of her soul passing through him. He felt the wonder, the fear, the love, the pleasure, the pain of life, all going through him at once. He saw many memories, from the first branding that the slave woman had gone through to the lustful debauchery of getting fucked by a horse for the pleasure of another devil, all the way through to her childhood where things were simpler, but no less terrifying. He saw everything, and in that moment, understood what Shereeza had been running from.\n\nHe stared straight ahead at the Hellhound impaled on his cock, watching as she panted, as pink nipples stood out from black fur, and realized what he had done. He had taken a mortal’s soul and passed it on to a Demon Lord, and he would never be able to earn forgiveness for that.\n\n[i]Oh, good boy…[/i]\n\nIt was Melchiresa. She was in his head, and she was happy. No, she was past happy; she was ecstatic, her voice filled with a bliss that he had never heard from her before. She was almost laughing, almost crying, and yet, still had that edge of dark and bestial need in her voice, as if she was getting off to what he had done to Shereeza.\n\n[i]A soul, a soul…such a soul. Mmm, it isn’t the prey that I asked for, Vitus, but you bring me prey nonetheless. You have given me the soul that the devils themselves have been fighting over, and now, it’s mine. Completely, utterly mine. Mmm…mmm…[/i]\n\nVitus’s stomach dropped out, leaving him nauseous and aroused at the same time. The sickly combination had nowhere to go as he heard the Demon Lord’s pleasure at gaining what she’d gotten. He could see it, somehow, see her fondling the ghostly thing as she pulled the essence of the other woman closer and closer. It twisted, warping from its barely-there pale shade to something darker, and less and less humanoid.\n\n[i]She will make a fine member of the pack. A fine member, indeed. Born again, made right, made proper…a good girl that gets what she needs…[/i]\n\nIn a sick, twisted way, Melchiresa almost sounded motherly. Vitus didn’t know how to handle the idea of a Demon Lord actually caring for something in its possession; certainly, she never cared about him, no matter what she said. Yet there was something there, possessive and corruptive and grasping as it was, that cared for the soul that it had just gotten.\n\nHe didn’t have time to think about it for long. The image faded, and he was left with the barely-conscious Shereeza, still furry and now shivering against his chest as she collapsed against him.\n\nAs he held her, sitting up and shaking his head, Katya cocked her head to the side.\n\n“You felt something,” the older woman said.\n\n“…Yes,” he muttered.\n\n“Melchiresa?”\n\nHe nodded. The image was burned into his head, now. He doubted that he would ever be able to forget the image of her taking the soul of this woman into her possession. The fact that it was his fault, the fact that she was doomed because of something he did, was impossible to forget, and impossible to forgive.\n\n“…You made a choice. And you will have to make others,” Katya said, sitting down at the side of the wagon. “If you think too hard on this one, you won’t have the space to make others further down the line. Decide whether it was right or wrong, and then move on with whatever you decide is better next time.”\n\n“How?” he asked, cradling the hound in his arms as she nuzzled under his neck. “She doesn’t…can she…”\n\n“She is exhausted, but she hasn’t lost her mind. At least, as far as I can tell.”\n\n“Small mercies,” Piers muttered.\n\n“Shut up,” Vitus growled. “You…Just…shut up.”\n\nHe couldn’t even be angry at Piers for this one. This was completely down to him, completely his fault, and he had to accept that. Didn’t mean that he had to be happy about the former guard’s self-righteousness, though.\n\n“How long until we get to Egorian?”\n\n“Long enough.”\n\n“Can we sleep?”\n\n“You should, after that. And so should she.”\n\nHe nodded, wiggling his hips back ever so slightly. The feeling of his knot dragging against her pussy was more than slightly enticing, but at least the Hellhound had been satisfied for now. That side of him was buried in a sleeping corner in the back of his mind, no longer driving him to take the bitch under him harder, no longer demanding more.\n\nOnce his knot popped out, Shereeza moaned. She opened her eyes and looked at him, only to smile in a way that was both familiar and alien. A Hellhound’s muzzle was so similar to a dog, a pet, but there was just enough person there to throw him off.\n\n“Master,” she whispered with a need and want that exceeded anything he’d ever heard in her voice before. “Master…let me…”\n\nBefore he could stop her, she moved between his legs, curling her body around his lower half and pulling his cock to her mouth. Her longer tongue flicked against his balls, her nose pressing into the crevice between sheath and sac, and she breathed deep.\n\n“Mmmmmph…Master is…so good…”\n\nBoth Vitus and the Hellhound side shivered as their cock throbbed all the harder. He tried to say something. Hell, he even lowered a shaking hand to try and make her stop, but it was too late as she dragged her tongue firmly along the underside of his cock.\n\n“Mmmph…”\n\nIt was the devotion in her eyes that really made it pleasurable, he realized. The way that she looked past his cock right at him, the way that she moaned as she licked his shaft, the way that she was constantly showing how much serving him made her happy: that was what made it hot, what made him flustered and needy, and most of all, what kept him hard. He throbbed in her hands and over her tongue, and even as she licked away the remnants of her orgasm and his, his cock remained throbbing hard.\n\n“P-Professor –”\n\n“She’s your pack-mate now, and you’re her alpha,” the professor said, the older woman leaning her chin on her fist. “If you want her to stop, she will only listen to you.”\n\nIt was the last thing that he wanted to hear. His cock was already making it hard for him to think, that throbbing length of hard flesh pushing thought and sense out of his head with ease. He moaned as he leaned his head back, feeling rubbery dog lips running down his shaft, going all the way to the top of the knot and kissing it, only to pull back with that tongue running right along the underside the whole way. Biting off one moan after another, he looked past Katya at the driver.\n\nPiers no longer looked at him. The one-armed man resolutely stared straight ahead, his shoulders hunched and his head down.\n\n[i]This…this is not…right…[/i]\n\nMuch as he hated the guardsman at times, that bit of judgment was enough. He growled as he grabbed Shereeza by the back of her head and pushed her back, dragging her mouth from his cock.\n\n“No,” he grunted.\n\n“Master?”\n\n“No,” he repeated, shaking his head. “You already…no. Just…no.”\n\n“Okay.”\n\nShe didn’t even look upset; she just took the order, shrugging off whatever want she had for his sake.\n\n[i]She really is pack now,[/i] he thought. [i]I’m the alpha, and she listens to the alpha. Whatever she wants…[/i]\n\nIt was a chilling thought. She would do what he said and follow his orders, now. The binding power of the transformation was his to wield as he saw fit. It wasn’t just that he would be sending their souls to Melchiresa; he would be taking their will and binding them to him. And for all that he had told Neena that this was a choice on his behalf, he had just done the same thing that Brundir had. A rut while she was asleep, forcing her into it without even asking if she was willing, and…\n\n[i]She was a slave. She had to be taken. She would have done anything I asked anyway.[/i]\n\nBut that wasn’t a good thing…\n\nWas it?\n\nEven with the snuggly Hellhound at his side, feeling her furred arms around his waist, he couldn’t bring himself to feel good about it. Nor could he make himself feel bad about it. There were too many conflicting feelings, too many stormy emotions for him to make heads or tails of, and he had a sudden understanding of why so many people would volunteer for slavery or servitude. Having someone else tell you if you were right or wrong was a very, very attractive idea, sometimes.\n\nSighing, he rested his head in his hands. It looked like their journey to Egorian was going to get a great deal more complicated, but…fuck, he had to say it.\n\n“Piers?”\n\nThe driver was silent. Probably ignoring him, probably showing his disapproval however he could. Vitus sighed.\n\n“Piers…Thank you.”\n\n“I am doing the wrong thing by not interfering,” the one-armed man said. “And at the end of this, I don’t know how the gods are going to forgive any of us. We are damned.”\n\n“You’re more right than you know,” Vitus muttered, rubbing the back of his head. “But…as much as we disagree…thank you for at least speaking up. Thank you for saying something. It’s…better than everyone being quiet, or blindly agreeing, or…Just thanks.”\n\nPiers didn’t respond, but Vitus didn’t expect him to. It had been an incredibly awkward bit of gratitude, and if it made any sense to the other man, then he had done better than he expected. For now, the Hellhound just wanted to get past what he had done, and that meant getting to Egorian and having something else to take up all the space in his head.\n\n[i]We’ll do alright. We have those spells from Brundir, summons to get past the front gate, and now we have two pairs of noses to hunt Robin down, which will mean finding her a lot faster than if it was just me, and…[/i]\n\nAnd that was just another attempt to stop thinking about what he had done. Every time that he stopped, every time that his mind went quiet, he remembered that look of devotion in Shereeza’s eyes.\n\nThe fire there went beyond any gratitude or loyalty that the elf had shown from being rescued. It was more than anything that any mortal [i]should[/i] feel towards another, and it was past the usual look of a charm spell, too. This was someone that had been ensorcelled to love him, care for him, want him, and obey him. Would the same thing happen to anyone else that he pulled into his pack?\n\nWould it happen to Hazel, if he saw her again and treated her like the bitch that she had become?\n\nThe thought aroused him and chilled him at the same time, and he pushed it away as he laid down to sleep.\n\n#\n\nMany miles away, Lord Gralon Brundir paced one of his many gardens. The city of Absalom was in chaos, and the former worship that he’d received for being a great hero that was standing up to the Arcanamirium and their secretive ways had been…diminished, for lack of a better word. Many of the churches and the judiciary still stood with him, but questions had been introduced to their faith in him, and those questions threatened the supremacy that he’d almost had over the city.\n\nIt wasn’t enough to topple him, but it was enough to slow down the plans that he’d had for giving Dispater what he wanted. The aasimar would have to shore up greater support in the city, find a way to deal with the Headmistress of the Arcanamirium before she could shift things further, and –\n\nWell, the list went on. He knew that there were various followers that wanted him to take their side in various petty disputes. One member of the judiciary, a judge that he had converted long ago, was still pressuring him to get her brother back from the staff of the academy, but he had put that on the back burner.\n\nHe had other things, greater things, to deal with.\n\n“Vitus Leontina…”\n\nThe name rolled off his tongue again, and this time, he tasted all the different pieces of what the young man was. So many little pieces made up the strangely fascinating young man, from the base human that he had always been to the growing Hellhound that had broken the shackles they’d shared, and now…a little accent that he should have noticed but never quite managed to taste before.\n\n“Vitus, a shattered man…and shattered men always make for the most engaging puzzles to put back together…”\n\nThe purple-skinned aasimar shook his head as he came to a stop behind one of the garden benches, resting his hands on the back and taking a breath. He remembered when Vitus had still been here, when the young man had been the ‘house mage’ in title, and the aasimar’s favorite underling in reality. A true treasure, one that had all the best habits of a dog and just needed to be brought to heel.\n\n[i]I miss him…[/i]\n\nIt was a hard thing for the aasimar to admit, but it was still true. He had grown close, closer than was entirely wise, to the little sorcerer. From the day that they’d met in the café and the young man had ‘saved’ him from an assassin, he found himself rather enchanted with him, taken in by a charm that had nothing to do with his magic and his power. It was all down to the rather lovely way that Vitus loved to do what he was told, deep down inside, and Gralon had been more than willing to provide the telling.\n\nA little ghost of a memory flickered up from the depths of the past, reminding him how it felt when he had put a collar around Vitus’s neck and pushed him to all fours. A Hellhound at his hooves, licking away, showing the devotion that only an intelligent dog could really manage. It had been more than mildly alluring, and they had fucked quite hard after that, but there was something more between them than just simple pleasure.\n\nHe remembered the other times, when he had ordered Vitus in bed and held him. Other recollections came with that, from the entranced walks through the grounds to the occasional use of the young man with others, sensually or otherwise. He remembered petting Vitus’s head, the Hellhound growling at the spiritual visitors that came to extort him, the loyalty of the good dog unquestioned in those moments, even with the future betrayal. It had been a good time, and without it, he felt…adrift, in some ways.\n\nHe clenched his hands into fists, shattering the wood at the back of the bench. Gralon looked down at the mess at his feet and sighed.\n\n“Too attached. Far too attached.”\n\nBut it was too late to break that. If he did, he would lose far more than he gained. Yes, there would be more freedom, more choice, but would there be as much satisfaction?\n\nNo. No, there would not.\n\n[i]Then I will get him back.[/i]\n\nThe deal that they’d struck guaranteed that he’d get Vitus back; there was enough honor in the young man that he would keep the deal even without magical enforcement. However, with how far in the future that was…\n\nGralon shook his head. With any other underling, he would consider the temptations running through his head the follies of a younger man. Inexperienced, desperate, hungry, impatient: all these things described the little plots and plans running through his skull to a T. There was nothing good about them that wouldn’t come in time, and he [i]should[/i] be satisfied waiting, particularly with the various considerations that he had to take into account with the city.\n\nBut Vitus was something special. Vitus was something – someone – that he desired in a way that only Dispater seemed to understand.\n\n[i]Ironic that the only one that understands my feelings is one of the Archdevils…[/i]\n\nOh, how he had fallen. All for the sake of –\n\nIt didn’t matter. What mattered was that he still had an agent in place with the travelers, and as incompetent as Neena was, there were still [i]some[/i] deeds that she could accomplish for him. He left the bench and walked to one of the flower circles elsewhere in the garden, folding his legs and sitting down in the lotus position. His hooves were pointed up and he rested his hands on his knees, taking a few deep breaths as he centered himself in the floral magic circle.\n\nIt was the privilege of the powerful to do as they wanted, and he was [i]very[/i] powerful indeed.\n\nAs he drifted on the currents of his magic, sinking himself into the fires of hell and heaven and the various places in-between, the aasimar felt things. Regret, in splashes, but mostly the grasping nature of Dispater and the urges that came from the grasping creatures of the lower plane. The contractual nature of their binding magic, the sense of need and obligation, the hunger to have more and more that they could call their own –\n\nThe aasimar pulled himself from that, focusing instead on his own sense of contracts and obligations. It was like a mental registry, and it wasn’t hard to sort through it to find Neena’s individual contract.\n\nA once-human, she was slowly turning into a saurian raptor. Little scales had already started to take form on her dark skin, and they were spreading bit by bit as the days passed. Sooner or later, her teeth would start to change, and then her face, with a hint of a tail eventually coming free. All the while, the spirit within would be giving her power and physical might, all part of the contract between them.\n\nNot that she would know all the details. She believed that she was serving a great man, and the contract fed into that. He had written it to ensure that every task that she succeeded in would deliver an emotional blast of bliss, sinking her further and further into happy servitude. The mental conditioning – and the little sub-clauses of the contract – would ensure that even orders she didn’t like would be followed exactly, and she would be a useful enough person even when she was completely overwhelmed with the spirit inside of her.\n\nHe held that contract in a metaphorical hand, and he reached out.\n\nContact was achieved immediately, though not in the way that he would have preferred. He felt her in a dream, one that had her being held and rutted by an ephemeral, astral version of himself. He cleared his throat and the mostly-human woman suddenly fell, landing on her feet before hurriedly getting up again.\n\n“Master! I was just –”\n\n“Irrelevant. Why are you asleep?”\n\n“…The bitch Orlov,” she admitted, shaking her head. “I was trying to convince Vitus to give up and come back to you, but then she –”\n\n“Trying to convince him?” Gralon arched an eyebrow. “I do not recall giving you that order.”\n\n“I – you were offering him the chance to be forgiven, and he’s [i]bargained[/i] with you, master. It is…it is beyond offensive that he’d ever think that he knows better than you. [i]No one[/i] knows better than you…right?”\n\nGralon shook his head, waving away the question. The important part was that Neena’s loyalties were intact; the fact that she believed in him that strongly meant that he could move on with the idea.\n\n“You will cease that.”\n\n“But –”\n\n“You. Will. Cease. That.”\n\n“Yes, master.”\n\nShe bowed at his hooves, keeping her eyes on the ground. Far more proper for someone like her, and certainly better suited for keeping her out of trouble. He walked around her, each step making a soft clop sound.\n\n“Instead, you will ensure that he gets into Egorian without issue, and follow the plan that he has…and inform me every step of the way.”\n\n“Yes, master.”\n\n“And when you know where he will be staying, we will take steps.”\n\n“Yes, master.”\n\n“One more thing, Neena.”\n\n“Yes, master?”\n\n“If you ask me why, even once…you will face punishment that will eclipse all the suffering that you have felt in your life. One more question from you, and you [i]will[/i] regret it. Obey without question, without hesitation, and you will get what you want. Otherwise…”\n\nHe let it linger, and felt no small satisfaction at the tremors that rippled through the woman’s body. She needed to be reminded that she was nothing more than small potatoes compared to most of his other agents. She might have some small skill as a diplomat, but that wasn’t why she had been dispatched to Cheliax. She’d been sent there because she was so far down the hierarchy that she was disposable if anything went wrong.\n\nHe doubted that she understood that. He doubted that it would matter if she ever did. As long as she was in contract with him, she would obey.\n\n“Now, dream properly, without taking liberties.”\n\n“I-I’m sorry, Master.”\n\n“I’m certain you will be.”\n\nHe waved his hand, dismissing her back to a more normal dream, and broke contact. Once they were severed, he opened his eyes and stood up, the circle of flowers losing the slight magical glow that it had taken on while serving as a conduit. The aasimar brushed the pollen off his arms as he got to his hooves, sighing.\n\n“It will work. It will work.”\n\nTime was all he needed. Once they got to Egorian, once they were through the walls and settled, he could reach out his hand and start encouraging Vitus to come back to him. Whatever incentive his former hound had to be seeking out this officer, he would give it up once he understood the pleasures and happiness that could be found for him here.\n\nAnd at the same time, Gralon knew that he’d have to have greater enticements. He had taken their relationship for granted before, and that was how the young man had gotten away. He would have to do something more…intriguing, enjoyable, to get Vitus to come back to him this time.\n\nGralon wasn’t used to working for the affection of others. Learning that would be a challenge, but he imagined that there were things that he could offer his former Hellhound for his return. Perhaps a little more information on that friend of his. Hazel, he believed her name was, and perhaps a little guarantee that there would be a pack of his own, this time, rather than merely being an underling.\n\nOr…\n\n[i]Would he want something more from me?[/i] Gralon wondered. [i]Perhaps…hmm. A little honesty may be a useful tool with him…[/i]\n\n \n\n \n\n \n\n\n\n\n[b][u][center]The End[/center][/u][/b]\n \nSummary: The transformation of Shereeza completes itself, and Vitus realizes the sort of thing that he has done with it this time.\n \nTags: M/F, Transformation, Blowjob, Vaginal, Rut, Riding, Hellhound, Elf, Aasimar, Human, Various Levels of TF, Corruption, Mind Control, Soul Trade, Series, Orgasm, Cum, Knotting, Knot, Fantasy, Magic, ",
"writing_bbcode_parsed": "
The Bonds of Need Chapter 4 For a-lycotonum By Draconicon
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
The rhythmic thrusts of his hips and the warm embrace of Shereeza’s pussy all but consumed him, the Stud command driving his Hellhound side to supremacy and forbidding him to do anything to slow the breeding rut. Vitus watched through eyes that were barely his own as the tattooed, mutated elf moaned from the hard fuck, her legs splayed out to either side as she was fucked into the wagon floor.
There were voices behind him, Katya and Piers and who knew who else. He was humiliated that he had decided to do this, that he was fucking the once-slave of the group into the ground while everyone watched –
Like a dog. Like a goddamn dog.
But what else was he supposed to do? They needed power, strength, something that would carry them through to the end of this mission, and the only way that they were going to get that was with someone else in the pack.
Thrust.
Thrust.
Thrust.
The pleasure kept him from thinking too hard about it, his churning, hairy balls slapping against the elf’s ass and the base of her meager tail as he fucked her. The heat inside was getting stronger, and he knew that the power of Melchiresa was already spreading to her.
“V-Vitus…Master…”
Shereeza was barely awake. He’d started this while she was asleep, rutting her, breaking her in and keeping her from having a chance to think about it. A kindness, or so he hoped. It might have been the needs that he had felt from the start, and the Hellhound side of him was more than willing to indulge in those, to grow the pack, to knot and fuck and cum and breed more of the pack for them to use.
In, out, in, out, faster and harder, knot growing by the second. It sucked at the elf’s pussy, pulling it out a bit, making it puffy and swollen. Was it already turning to a bitch-cunt? He didn’t know, but the Hellhound wanted to.
It leaned back, looming over the once-elf, and it grinned. The slit-shape of a human or elf or any other two-legged creature had already started to warp, puffing and starting to round out. The swollen flesh was begging for the touch of a canine rather than the two-leggers that she would have fucked before.
This was her purpose.
This was her place.
Vitus grunted in the back of his mind as they fell over her again, ramming in, out, in, out, knot popping with each thrust. The fact that he was doing this horrible and pleasurable thing kept driving his change home to him. No more pretending, no more acting as if he was a good person. No good person would do this to another, no matter how great their needs were.
Splash, squish, squelch. Her wetness kept making it louder, and he would have whimpered if he’d been in the front of the mind, controlling them. Instead, all he could do was whine in his own head as the pleasure was forced on him, the need and want of the dog so powerful that he couldn’t resist.
As they humped away, as they forced the bitch’s legs up and back, the transformation continued. There was no holy protection for Shereeza, no great magical aid that would slow down the transformation. As the black fur began to sprout from her groin, overwhelming the small collection of scales that had started to spread across her body, she moaned and accepted it. She pushed her hips up, grinding back against him, fucking herself against his knot as he took her like the breeding bitch she was.
Not…not…
The Hellhound pushed him down, forcing the breeding harder, deeper, ramming into her so hard that the wagon shook. In, out, in, out, popping that knot until she was all but gaping from it. The Hellhound’s breath was hot, burning, scalding, leaving him and all the others sweating. The air was rich with the smell of warm bodies, and it was a deep reminder of the pleasure that he could take from her at any point.
That he could demand of Katya.
That he could force on Neena.
Alpha…Stud…Head of the Pack…
It was going right to his head, making everything spin as he tried to keep himself together. It was nearly impossible, and his breath came harder and faster as Shereeza kept changing under him.
Her ankles cracked, her heel rising up and her toes pointing as her feet began to change. The beginnings of paws were slowly taking shape, though the fur had yet to grow that far down her legs. He could feel the muscle in her legs thickening, getting stronger, more powerful, and the slight softness in her stomach disappeared against him, replaced with thick abs that were hardening by the second.
Strong…strong bitch…
The Hellhound growled at her, and despite the lack of transformation in her face, Shereeza growled back.
“He’s breaking her,” Piers said, his voice distant.
“Yes.”
“We can’t –”
“We have to.”
Katya was fulfilling her word; Piers wouldn’t stop this, no matter how much Vitus might have wanted him to. There was no way for Shereeza to be saved now, anyway; she was already half-transformed, her tail turning from a scaly stump to something fluffy, something that was getting longer by the second as their rut continued.
They rolled, her sliding on top of him, thumping her hips down against his knot again and again. She arched her back, her breasts growing out, little nipples popping out along her chest and belly for the pups that she’d eventually have. He groaned as he felt her pushing back, her puffy cookie of a pussy grinding down on a knot almost too big for her, almost taking it to the halfway point before riding it again.
Her eyes were changing, turning to a deep, burnished gold as she looked down on him. The thick black pelt of a Hellhound, streaked with the same red lines that his coat had, was growing out of her belly, her chest, down her arms and up her neck. Little by little, her ears were growing out and spreading up along the sides of her head, moving to the right place for a Hound, and her fingers curled into thicker digits topped with blunted black claws.
“Rrrrr…”
Her growl was almost what one would call cute. Almost.
She leaned over him, her breasts dangling in his face, pushing out bigger than hers had ever been. The sheer vitality and fertility that she represented called to the core of the Hellhound, and he growled back as he grabbed her hips, pulling her down on his knot again and again, ramming up into her. She surrendered to him, whimpering and growling and yipping by turns.
Did either of them have a hint of humanity left in that moment? Vitus didn’t; he was consumed by the bestial urge to hump and fuck and rut and breed. There wasn’t a thought in his head but the feeling of her pussy and the urge to fill it with his seed. He would mark her, take her, deliver her to Melchiresa and get the reward for growing their pack. Just a little bit more, a little bit deeper. Soon, soon, soon, she would be bloated with his cum, and the transformation would take her, and she would be his. She would be his, his bitch, his pack, his –
They howled together as they came. He arched his back from the wagon floor, his knot popping past her pussy lips, and she howled as her head tilted back, the beginning of her muzzle finally growing out. It came quickly, her teeth sharpening and pushing past her lips, her nose and jaw extending and joining to create a proper bestial face. Her eyes, glowing gold with a hint of red around them, closed tight as she screamed in her pleasure, soaking his crotch with the juices of her need and her pleasure.
And then…then it was done. He felt it, felt the heat of her soul passing through him. He felt the wonder, the fear, the love, the pleasure, the pain of life, all going through him at once. He saw many memories, from the first branding that the slave woman had gone through to the lustful debauchery of getting fucked by a horse for the pleasure of another devil, all the way through to her childhood where things were simpler, but no less terrifying. He saw everything, and in that moment, understood what Shereeza had been running from.
He stared straight ahead at the Hellhound impaled on his cock, watching as she panted, as pink nipples stood out from black fur, and realized what he had done. He had taken a mortal’s soul and passed it on to a Demon Lord, and he would never be able to earn forgiveness for that.
Oh, good boy…
It was Melchiresa. She was in his head, and she was happy. No, she was past happy; she was ecstatic, her voice filled with a bliss that he had never heard from her before. She was almost laughing, almost crying, and yet, still had that edge of dark and bestial need in her voice, as if she was getting off to what he had done to Shereeza.
A soul, a soul…such a soul. Mmm, it isn’t the prey that I asked for, Vitus, but you bring me prey nonetheless. You have given me the soul that the devils themselves have been fighting over, and now, it’s mine. Completely, utterly mine. Mmm…mmm…
Vitus’s stomach dropped out, leaving him nauseous and aroused at the same time. The sickly combination had nowhere to go as he heard the Demon Lord’s pleasure at gaining what she’d gotten. He could see it, somehow, see her fondling the ghostly thing as she pulled the essence of the other woman closer and closer. It twisted, warping from its barely-there pale shade to something darker, and less and less humanoid.
She will make a fine member of the pack. A fine member, indeed. Born again, made right, made proper…a good girl that gets what she needs…
In a sick, twisted way, Melchiresa almost sounded motherly. Vitus didn’t know how to handle the idea of a Demon Lord actually caring for something in its possession; certainly, she never cared about him, no matter what she said. Yet there was something there, possessive and corruptive and grasping as it was, that cared for the soul that it had just gotten.
He didn’t have time to think about it for long. The image faded, and he was left with the barely-conscious Shereeza, still furry and now shivering against his chest as she collapsed against him.
As he held her, sitting up and shaking his head, Katya cocked her head to the side.
“You felt something,” the older woman said.
“…Yes,” he muttered.
“Melchiresa?”
He nodded. The image was burned into his head, now. He doubted that he would ever be able to forget the image of her taking the soul of this woman into her possession. The fact that it was his fault, the fact that she was doomed because of something he did, was impossible to forget, and impossible to forgive.
“…You made a choice. And you will have to make others,” Katya said, sitting down at the side of the wagon. “If you think too hard on this one, you won’t have the space to make others further down the line. Decide whether it was right or wrong, and then move on with whatever you decide is better next time.”
“How?” he asked, cradling the hound in his arms as she nuzzled under his neck. “She doesn’t…can she…”
“She is exhausted, but she hasn’t lost her mind. At least, as far as I can tell.”
“Small mercies,” Piers muttered.
“Shut up,” Vitus growled. “You…Just…shut up.”
He couldn’t even be angry at Piers for this one. This was completely down to him, completely his fault, and he had to accept that. Didn’t mean that he had to be happy about the former guard’s self-righteousness, though.
“How long until we get to Egorian?”
“Long enough.”
“Can we sleep?”
“You should, after that. And so should she.”
He nodded, wiggling his hips back ever so slightly. The feeling of his knot dragging against her pussy was more than slightly enticing, but at least the Hellhound had been satisfied for now. That side of him was buried in a sleeping corner in the back of his mind, no longer driving him to take the bitch under him harder, no longer demanding more.
Once his knot popped out, Shereeza moaned. She opened her eyes and looked at him, only to smile in a way that was both familiar and alien. A Hellhound’s muzzle was so similar to a dog, a pet, but there was just enough person there to throw him off.
“Master,” she whispered with a need and want that exceeded anything he’d ever heard in her voice before. “Master…let me…”
Before he could stop her, she moved between his legs, curling her body around his lower half and pulling his cock to her mouth. Her longer tongue flicked against his balls, her nose pressing into the crevice between sheath and sac, and she breathed deep.
“Mmmmmph…Master is…so good…”
Both Vitus and the Hellhound side shivered as their cock throbbed all the harder. He tried to say something. Hell, he even lowered a shaking hand to try and make her stop, but it was too late as she dragged her tongue firmly along the underside of his cock.
“Mmmph…”
It was the devotion in her eyes that really made it pleasurable, he realized. The way that she looked past his cock right at him, the way that she moaned as she licked his shaft, the way that she was constantly showing how much serving him made her happy: that was what made it hot, what made him flustered and needy, and most of all, what kept him hard. He throbbed in her hands and over her tongue, and even as she licked away the remnants of her orgasm and his, his cock remained throbbing hard.
“P-Professor –”
“She’s your pack-mate now, and you’re her alpha,” the professor said, the older woman leaning her chin on her fist. “If you want her to stop, she will only listen to you.”
It was the last thing that he wanted to hear. His cock was already making it hard for him to think, that throbbing length of hard flesh pushing thought and sense out of his head with ease. He moaned as he leaned his head back, feeling rubbery dog lips running down his shaft, going all the way to the top of the knot and kissing it, only to pull back with that tongue running right along the underside the whole way. Biting off one moan after another, he looked past Katya at the driver.
Piers no longer looked at him. The one-armed man resolutely stared straight ahead, his shoulders hunched and his head down.
This…this is not…right…
Much as he hated the guardsman at times, that bit of judgment was enough. He growled as he grabbed Shereeza by the back of her head and pushed her back, dragging her mouth from his cock.
“No,” he grunted.
“Master?”
“No,” he repeated, shaking his head. “You already…no. Just…no.”
“Okay.”
She didn’t even look upset; she just took the order, shrugging off whatever want she had for his sake.
She really is pack now, he thought. I’m the alpha, and she listens to the alpha. Whatever she wants…
It was a chilling thought. She would do what he said and follow his orders, now. The binding power of the transformation was his to wield as he saw fit. It wasn’t just that he would be sending their souls to Melchiresa; he would be taking their will and binding them to him. And for all that he had told Neena that this was a choice on his behalf, he had just done the same thing that Brundir had. A rut while she was asleep, forcing her into it without even asking if she was willing, and…
She was a slave. She had to be taken. She would have done anything I asked anyway.
But that wasn’t a good thing…
Was it?
Even with the snuggly Hellhound at his side, feeling her furred arms around his waist, he couldn’t bring himself to feel good about it. Nor could he make himself feel bad about it. There were too many conflicting feelings, too many stormy emotions for him to make heads or tails of, and he had a sudden understanding of why so many people would volunteer for slavery or servitude. Having someone else tell you if you were right or wrong was a very, very attractive idea, sometimes.
Sighing, he rested his head in his hands. It looked like their journey to Egorian was going to get a great deal more complicated, but…fuck, he had to say it.
“Piers?”
The driver was silent. Probably ignoring him, probably showing his disapproval however he could. Vitus sighed.
“Piers…Thank you.”
“I am doing the wrong thing by not interfering,” the one-armed man said. “And at the end of this, I don’t know how the gods are going to forgive any of us. We are damned.”
“You’re more right than you know,” Vitus muttered, rubbing the back of his head. “But…as much as we disagree…thank you for at least speaking up. Thank you for saying something. It’s…better than everyone being quiet, or blindly agreeing, or…Just thanks.”
Piers didn’t respond, but Vitus didn’t expect him to. It had been an incredibly awkward bit of gratitude, and if it made any sense to the other man, then he had done better than he expected. For now, the Hellhound just wanted to get past what he had done, and that meant getting to Egorian and having something else to take up all the space in his head.
We’ll do alright. We have those spells from Brundir, summons to get past the front gate, and now we have two pairs of noses to hunt Robin down, which will mean finding her a lot faster than if it was just me, and…
And that was just another attempt to stop thinking about what he had done. Every time that he stopped, every time that his mind went quiet, he remembered that look of devotion in Shereeza’s eyes.
The fire there went beyond any gratitude or loyalty that the elf had shown from being rescued. It was more than anything that any mortal should feel towards another, and it was past the usual look of a charm spell, too. This was someone that had been ensorcelled to love him, care for him, want him, and obey him. Would the same thing happen to anyone else that he pulled into his pack?
Would it happen to Hazel, if he saw her again and treated her like the bitch that she had become?
The thought aroused him and chilled him at the same time, and he pushed it away as he laid down to sleep.
#
Many miles away, Lord Gralon Brundir paced one of his many gardens. The city of Absalom was in chaos, and the former worship that he’d received for being a great hero that was standing up to the Arcanamirium and their secretive ways had been…diminished, for lack of a better word. Many of the churches and the judiciary still stood with him, but questions had been introduced to their faith in him, and those questions threatened the supremacy that he’d almost had over the city.
It wasn’t enough to topple him, but it was enough to slow down the plans that he’d had for giving Dispater what he wanted. The aasimar would have to shore up greater support in the city, find a way to deal with the Headmistress of the Arcanamirium before she could shift things further, and –
Well, the list went on. He knew that there were various followers that wanted him to take their side in various petty disputes. One member of the judiciary, a judge that he had converted long ago, was still pressuring him to get her brother back from the staff of the academy, but he had put that on the back burner.
He had other things, greater things, to deal with.
“Vitus Leontina…”
The name rolled off his tongue again, and this time, he tasted all the different pieces of what the young man was. So many little pieces made up the strangely fascinating young man, from the base human that he had always been to the growing Hellhound that had broken the shackles they’d shared, and now…a little accent that he should have noticed but never quite managed to taste before.
“Vitus, a shattered man…and shattered men always make for the most engaging puzzles to put back together…”
The purple-skinned aasimar shook his head as he came to a stop behind one of the garden benches, resting his hands on the back and taking a breath. He remembered when Vitus had still been here, when the young man had been the ‘house mage’ in title, and the aasimar’s favorite underling in reality. A true treasure, one that had all the best habits of a dog and just needed to be brought to heel.
I miss him…
It was a hard thing for the aasimar to admit, but it was still true. He had grown close, closer than was entirely wise, to the little sorcerer. From the day that they’d met in the café and the young man had ‘saved’ him from an assassin, he found himself rather enchanted with him, taken in by a charm that had nothing to do with his magic and his power. It was all down to the rather lovely way that Vitus loved to do what he was told, deep down inside, and Gralon had been more than willing to provide the telling.
A little ghost of a memory flickered up from the depths of the past, reminding him how it felt when he had put a collar around Vitus’s neck and pushed him to all fours. A Hellhound at his hooves, licking away, showing the devotion that only an intelligent dog could really manage. It had been more than mildly alluring, and they had fucked quite hard after that, but there was something more between them than just simple pleasure.
He remembered the other times, when he had ordered Vitus in bed and held him. Other recollections came with that, from the entranced walks through the grounds to the occasional use of the young man with others, sensually or otherwise. He remembered petting Vitus’s head, the Hellhound growling at the spiritual visitors that came to extort him, the loyalty of the good dog unquestioned in those moments, even with the future betrayal. It had been a good time, and without it, he felt…adrift, in some ways.
He clenched his hands into fists, shattering the wood at the back of the bench. Gralon looked down at the mess at his feet and sighed.
“Too attached. Far too attached.”
But it was too late to break that. If he did, he would lose far more than he gained. Yes, there would be more freedom, more choice, but would there be as much satisfaction?
No. No, there would not.
Then I will get him back.
The deal that they’d struck guaranteed that he’d get Vitus back; there was enough honor in the young man that he would keep the deal even without magical enforcement. However, with how far in the future that was…
Gralon shook his head. With any other underling, he would consider the temptations running through his head the follies of a younger man. Inexperienced, desperate, hungry, impatient: all these things described the little plots and plans running through his skull to a T. There was nothing good about them that wouldn’t come in time, and he should be satisfied waiting, particularly with the various considerations that he had to take into account with the city.
But Vitus was something special. Vitus was something – someone – that he desired in a way that only Dispater seemed to understand.
Ironic that the only one that understands my feelings is one of the Archdevils…
Oh, how he had fallen. All for the sake of –
It didn’t matter. What mattered was that he still had an agent in place with the travelers, and as incompetent as Neena was, there were still some deeds that she could accomplish for him. He left the bench and walked to one of the flower circles elsewhere in the garden, folding his legs and sitting down in the lotus position. His hooves were pointed up and he rested his hands on his knees, taking a few deep breaths as he centered himself in the floral magic circle.
It was the privilege of the powerful to do as they wanted, and he was very powerful indeed.
As he drifted on the currents of his magic, sinking himself into the fires of hell and heaven and the various places in-between, the aasimar felt things. Regret, in splashes, but mostly the grasping nature of Dispater and the urges that came from the grasping creatures of the lower plane. The contractual nature of their binding magic, the sense of need and obligation, the hunger to have more and more that they could call their own –
The aasimar pulled himself from that, focusing instead on his own sense of contracts and obligations. It was like a mental registry, and it wasn’t hard to sort through it to find Neena’s individual contract.
A once-human, she was slowly turning into a saurian raptor. Little scales had already started to take form on her dark skin, and they were spreading bit by bit as the days passed. Sooner or later, her teeth would start to change, and then her face, with a hint of a tail eventually coming free. All the while, the spirit within would be giving her power and physical might, all part of the contract between them.
Not that she would know all the details. She believed that she was serving a great man, and the contract fed into that. He had written it to ensure that every task that she succeeded in would deliver an emotional blast of bliss, sinking her further and further into happy servitude. The mental conditioning – and the little sub-clauses of the contract – would ensure that even orders she didn’t like would be followed exactly, and she would be a useful enough person even when she was completely overwhelmed with the spirit inside of her.
He held that contract in a metaphorical hand, and he reached out.
Contact was achieved immediately, though not in the way that he would have preferred. He felt her in a dream, one that had her being held and rutted by an ephemeral, astral version of himself. He cleared his throat and the mostly-human woman suddenly fell, landing on her feet before hurriedly getting up again.
“Master! I was just –”
“Irrelevant. Why are you asleep?”
“…The bitch Orlov,” she admitted, shaking her head. “I was trying to convince Vitus to give up and come back to you, but then she –”
“Trying to convince him?” Gralon arched an eyebrow. “I do not recall giving you that order.”
“I – you were offering him the chance to be forgiven, and he’s bargained with you, master. It is…it is beyond offensive that he’d ever think that he knows better than you. No one knows better than you…right?”
Gralon shook his head, waving away the question. The important part was that Neena’s loyalties were intact; the fact that she believed in him that strongly meant that he could move on with the idea.
“You will cease that.”
“But –”
“You. Will. Cease. That.”
“Yes, master.”
She bowed at his hooves, keeping her eyes on the ground. Far more proper for someone like her, and certainly better suited for keeping her out of trouble. He walked around her, each step making a soft clop sound.
“Instead, you will ensure that he gets into Egorian without issue, and follow the plan that he has…and inform me every step of the way.”
“Yes, master.”
“And when you know where he will be staying, we will take steps.”
“Yes, master.”
“One more thing, Neena.”
“Yes, master?”
“If you ask me why, even once…you will face punishment that will eclipse all the suffering that you have felt in your life. One more question from you, and you will regret it. Obey without question, without hesitation, and you will get what you want. Otherwise…”
He let it linger, and felt no small satisfaction at the tremors that rippled through the woman’s body. She needed to be reminded that she was nothing more than small potatoes compared to most of his other agents. She might have some small skill as a diplomat, but that wasn’t why she had been dispatched to Cheliax. She’d been sent there because she was so far down the hierarchy that she was disposable if anything went wrong.
He doubted that she understood that. He doubted that it would matter if she ever did. As long as she was in contract with him, she would obey.
“Now, dream properly, without taking liberties.”
“I-I’m sorry, Master.”
“I’m certain you will be.”
He waved his hand, dismissing her back to a more normal dream, and broke contact. Once they were severed, he opened his eyes and stood up, the circle of flowers losing the slight magical glow that it had taken on while serving as a conduit. The aasimar brushed the pollen off his arms as he got to his hooves, sighing.
“It will work. It will work.”
Time was all he needed. Once they got to Egorian, once they were through the walls and settled, he could reach out his hand and start encouraging Vitus to come back to him. Whatever incentive his former hound had to be seeking out this officer, he would give it up once he understood the pleasures and happiness that could be found for him here.
And at the same time, Gralon knew that he’d have to have greater enticements. He had taken their relationship for granted before, and that was how the young man had gotten away. He would have to do something more…intriguing, enjoyable, to get Vitus to come back to him this time.
Gralon wasn’t used to working for the affection of others. Learning that would be a challenge, but he imagined that there were things that he could offer his former Hellhound for his return. Perhaps a little more information on that friend of his. Hazel, he believed her name was, and perhaps a little guarantee that there would be a pack of his own, this time, rather than merely being an underling.
Or…
Would he want something more from me? Gralon wondered. Perhaps…hmm. A little honesty may be a useful tool with him…
The End
Summary: The transformation of Shereeza completes itself, and Vitus realizes the sort of thing that he has done with it this time.