[b][u][center]Special Positions, Special Perks Part 7 For a-lycotonum By Draconicon[/center][/u][/b] Ever since Cazna had slapped him, Vitus hadn’t dared go back to his quarters. Not out of fear of her, but more out of fear of what he would do to the drow if he saw her again this soon. Instead, he wandered the grounds, shaking his head. Occasionally he would look down at his hands, thinking of what he was becoming, but his thoughts would always shift from him to the face that the drow woman had made. [i]I order you to like being dirty.[/i] It had been a simple order, one that he had thought would cancel out some of the worst humiliations that she’d been feeling, but it had done something else. As soon as the words had left his mouth, he’d seen it on her face. Fear and anger had become something approaching bliss. Her cheeks had burned like the shyest maiden in the world, and her pussy… He could still smell it on him, from when she’d embraced him right after. He could smell the heat that had burned from her crotch, how she’d been entirely consumed by lust rather than by humiliation…or maybe in addition to, for all he knew. The command had been vague enough that it might have harnessed that. [i]How did…how does…[/i] Vitus had been under the impression that the collar was a prisoner’s band, something that controlled the body and kept it from breaking free of certain bounds and bonds. The fact that it had the capability to compel a mind, as well… [i]That’s not legal. That’s not even possible, or…or at least…it shouldn’t be. Master Brundir wouldn’t do something that out of bounds, though…would he?[/i] Considering the sheer power of the aasimar, it was entirely possible that he would do that very thing. Vitus groaned, walking over to one of the benches in the grounds and sitting down. He laid his head in his hands and rubbed his cheeks, trying to focus through the confusion and the…the… He groaned under his breath again, feeling the pressure of his erection against the front of his pants. It had throbbed up as soon as he had seen her in her scared, humiliated state, the hellhound in him trying to push forward to claim a bitch and fuck it into submission, but he had managed to fight that down. Mostly. The erection remained. And it was going to stay until he was in different clothes, he was sure. The fact that he was so horny was at least partially because of the drow’s juices on his clothes. She’d been positively drenched when he had ordered her to enjoy what he was making her do, and it had been nearly enough to make her lose her mind. Nearly enough to make her cum on the spot, too, which had been…interesting, to say the least. He blushed worse as he imagined her moaning for him, gripping her breasts and staring at him. She had been nothing if not eager once he had given the order, and she had been enjoying herself much more. She had enjoyed herself so much that she had started spreading her mud over her sweaty body, making her all the dirtier, looking like a submissive little bitch that was just begging for someone to grab her and use her. Vitus groaned as he leaned forward on the bench, trying to ignore the way that his cock was begging for him to take hold of it and start getting off. He needed to think of something else, anything else. [i]Think of…think of how wrong it was…[/i] But even that was hard, particularly when he thought about how lovely she looked when she was throwing herself at him, when she was begging him to make her even dirtier. The thought had echoed through his head then to take her, fuck her, claim her. After all, Hazel was out there, sucking off orcs and getting fucked by dogs. He could be allowed to do what he wanted, regardless of how strange it was. But she was a prisoner. She had rights. And he was a bodyguard, and he had privileges. He could have used her, if he wanted. She was his slave, too, which meant that she had even less rights against him than she did against most people… And he had been told by his master to use her… [i]Master Brundir was the one to put the collar on her, too…[/i] That finally stopped the horny spiral of thoughts. It gave him something to focus on, something that wasn’t so painful. Something that he could puzzle out. “He put the collar on her. He knew what it would do…” If that was the case, the aasimar had knowingly broken who knew how many laws of Absalom. The city had been very strict about the sort of spells that affected the mind that were allowed in the city. There were some few illusions that were given permission for casting, and far fewer charm spells. The possibility of someone affecting the mind of someone powerful was not great, but the possibility of the powerful taking advantage of the weak was always present. Nobody was supposed to be able to affect the mind. Prison collars were always made to affect the body and nothing else. The idea that someone might be using them to expand that purpose, to affect the mind, to change it… He looked at himself again, at the hands that had been turned to paws, at the edge of his forming muzzle, at the thick coat of facial hair that he’d taken on. There was no denying that he’d been made to change, too, no way of getting around that fact. Yet, he hadn’t questioned Brundir about it…not more than a little bit, at least. [i]Is he affecting me, too?[/i] That was the question that he had been struggling not to ask himself, but now that he had reached that point, there was no going back. He had to question it, had to ask what was going on. Because if his boss was dealing with darkness like that – “Vitus.” He almost jumped out of his skin at the sudden familiar voice, whipping his head around to find the aasimar looking down at him from behind the bench. Vitus shook his head, holding one hand to his chest as he grumbled. “You nearly scared the shit out of me.” “Well, you were deep in your own head. What is the matter?” “I…nothing.” “That is a lie.” Yes, and a bad one, he realized. If Brundir was really up to something beyond just giving the dark elf a simple punishment, then there was every reason not to talk with him. After all, the aasimar could see him questioning the punishment as a threat, and if there was a threat to a plan, he knew that a bad guy would generally obliterate it rather than allow it to continue existing. If that was the case – Gralon Brundir sat down beside him, and Vitus pulled the sickliest grin that he had ever pulled. It was a stupid expression, but he had nothing lese to try. The aasimar raised an eyebrow. “Obviously something’s bothering you. Come now, out with it.” “It’s nothing. I promise.” “You were bothered by the drow?” “…” “I wondered if you might disapprove.” “Disapprove? You’re…I don’t know if you know what that collar does –” “Of course I do. I invented it.” Vitus’s eyes went wide. Well, it had always been a possibility, of course, but he had hoped in some dark corner of his mind that it was just an item that the aasimar lord had found and slapped onto her. The fact that he knew what it was, that he had [i]made[/i] it to do what it did…That changed things. That changed a lot of things. He started to stand up – “Sit.” And just like that, he was back on the bench. Vitus stared, unable to believe that he had just fallen down like that. He turned – “Ah!” And gasped, feeling the sudden clench that he’d always associated with the contract. He groaned, slumping forward as he wrapped his arms around his middle. “Yes, you will notice that this time. I haven’t exerted the power of the contract much, but it does have a very…constricting effect.” “What…what is this…” “Come, now. You knew the contract was magical.” “But…” “Do you think she’s the only one that wears a collar?” Forcing himself to look back up as the constriction got worse, Vitus found himself staring into the white flames of the aasimar’s eyes. He panted for breath as those eyes stared back, and slowly, surely, he saw something…different. Something dark. Something [i]red.[/i] Vitus gasped, and Brundir smiled. “You saw it, hmm? I suppose I’m not surprised. It’s only a matter of time before one of the demon-touched would see it, particularly with your gifts in the magical arts.” “You…you’re…” Lord Brundir smiled, and in that moment, for no more than a split second, the illusion dissolved. The aasimar’s skin flashed red, and his eyes went crimson, deep, dark, and deadly. The fires were no longer angelic, but hellish. Between his horns, the glowing deva turned dark, growing horns of its own. Not demonic, but devilish. Vitus gasped in shock, unable to believe his eyes. The greatest hero of the city was in league with the creatures of the pit. He struggled to pull himself upright, only to feel another constriction, one that left him falling right on the ground. “Ah ah. I didn’t say that you could get up.” One heavy hoof landed on his chest, keeping him pinned as the illusion went back up. Lord Brundir shook his head. “Now, let’s have a few things out, Vitus, hmm? I imagine that you have many questions. Not that you will be allowed answers – or memories, for that matter – but I believe that someone with enough talent to see my true form deserves a little monologue. “You are probably wondering what drove me to give in to the dark side, so to speak. What caused me to drag my deva down with me, to corrupt us to the powers of the devils. It’s hardly a long story. There was no epic regarding my ‘fall,’ my ‘corruption.’ It was more of a…business decision. The demons constantly contest each other, and the gods rise and fall with their followers. But devils? Devils are more…pragmatic. “A devil will give you anything that you ask for, so long as you can provide a worthwhile payment for them in return. In this case, I offered them my deva for a devil. They considered it a bargain worth making, to torment their opposite. In return, I gained what I needed for my own objective: to take control of Absalom.” “Not…world domination, then?” he grunted. “Hardly. There is no need to control the world if one controls this city. The city of power, the city of magic, the city at the center of all. Once it is controlled by one, rather than many, it becomes the seat of power over this dimension. I have seen it happen…I have seen it happen many times…” There was a faraway look in the aasimar’s eyes at that point, and for a split second, Vitus wondered just what the old adventurer had seen. To think that the world was better suited with a demon in charge, it had to have been horrible. A shiver ran down his spine, not helped by the greater pressure of the hoof on his chest. “I made the deal. That is all that matters. And in return, I have the power to bring others to my level.” “Mmmph…you corrupt them…you mean.” “Call it what you like. It is a way of ensuring my control, and our deals, Vitus, ensure that you will do as I say, whatever it happens to be.” “I…this is…” “And what I tell you right now…is to forget.” He gasped, his eyes going wide. The constricting, squeezing feeling in his chest was back, but it was a hundred times worse than it had been at the start. He hissed, rolling onto his side, his eyes closing tightly as he felt the pressure running up his spine towards his skull. “You will forget anything about me being on the side of darkness, of evil, of devils, of anything that does not fit my public image…” “Not…Nnngh!” “The more you fight it, the more it will hurt. It will be better for you to forget…” The pressure on his skull was only getting worse, and he wanted to scream. He wanted to howl, his muzzle parting, air trying to come free from his lungs only to be shoved right back down. Vitus couldn’t think, couldn’t speak, couldn’t do anything… Except obey. He fell back, his back trying and failing to arch against the ground as the memories of Gralon Brundir’s devil side began to fade. He slipped away, falling into darkness, the images slipping from his mind one by one until there was nothing but the vision of red, flaming eyes staring down at him. And then, that too, was gone. He slipped into darkness. “…Vitus?” The sorcerer blinked, opening his eyes. He was staring up at the afternoon sky, which was strange considering that it had been morning when he’d started his walk. Had he fallen down and smashed his head, or – He tilted his head slightly to the side, saw the wide hoof that was right beside him. He followed it up to his master’s face, looking down at him in both curiosity and amusement. “That seems a very strange place for a nap, Vitus.” “I didn’t mean to take one.” “Let’s get you on your feet, hmm?” His master helped him up, and Vitus groaned under his breath as he leaned back against the bench. He vaguely remembered sitting on it before, but that must have been on a different day. Not today. More than ever, he was grateful for the aasimar’s control of reality. If he had fallen unconscious in the city, looking like he did, someone would have called for the church without a second thought. He would have been interrogated, exorcised, or worse. Whatever they did, though, would have been painful beyond all measure, and there was no guarantee that he would be let free again. [i]I owe him. I owe him a lot.[/i] Which was why he had to bring up the collar. “Master…do you know what the collar you put on the drow does?” “…I do, Vitus. I do.” “Then why…It’s a torture device. You can…you can make her think the way you want to. Why would you do that?” “Because, sometimes, that sort of power is the only way to bring someone back to the light.” Vitus couldn’t even think of a response to that. He just stared, open-mouthed, as the aasimar brought him to sit on the bench rather than lean against it. As the half-hellhound, half-human stuttered and stammered with indignation, his master continued. “There are those that are so deep in the dark that you cannot reach them. You can’t call to them, you can’t convince them that they are in the wrong. They will forever believe that they are utterly righteous in their convictions, and they will fight you with everything that they have if they think that you’re trying to convince them otherwise. “We already use prison collars to subdue the bodies of violent men and women, to hold them still while they learn their lesson. This is merely a step further.” “Yes, but…do you know…” “What you did?” The sorcerer lowered his head, nodding shamefully. “You told her to enjoy something. Is that a bad thing?” “It’s…something I knew that she hated. And I knew she hated it because I made her tell me about it.” “Do you know why she hates it?” “…No.” “You might want to ask her. But you did a good thing. You helped her discover a way to handle something that she can’t on her own.” Brundir smiled. “You taught her a way to enjoy something new, something a bit dirty, but all the more fun for that.” “…Are you flirting with me again? I can’t tell with that look.” “I might be. After all, she doesn’t have to be the only one to try something new, today. And if you’re feeling a bit guilty…” “This is the first time I’ve heard of sucking cock for absolution.” “Well, there is a first time for everything. And don’t you think that you deserve a little…punishment?” Again, Vitus felt that twinge of guilt for what he had done, but despite that, there was something…vaguely different about the whole idea. While it was true that he had never heard of anything like this, he couldn’t deny that it felt…rather appealing. Even if it was something that he had never done before, or wanted to. But at the same time, he couldn’t deny that there was a small throb at his crotch when he thought about it. He had never had a male partner…but Gralon seemed to be the sort of guy that would be…better than others… And it might be a good punishment to humiliate himself a bit… “Should we –” “Here will be fine.” “I should have seen that coming.” “You’ll see something else cumming, instead.” “…Ow.” “It was a bad joke, but worth it.” It was a very bad joke, but that was besides the point. The fact that he had to suck a cock out in the open, without even a hint of cover… [i]Do it for her. It’s the right thing. It’s the right thing…[/i] He lowered himself to his knees, looking down at the bulge in the aasimar’s robe. There was a hefty thing there, more than sufficient size to tempt even the biggest of size queens, which he was most definitely not. His cheeks burned as he thought about what he was going to do, and he tried to tell himself that it was just…just punishment… It didn’t help. He blushed as he worked at the folds of the robe, opening it in the front until he could see the tip of his master’s shaft. The flesh was darker there, near royal purple rather than the softer purple of the rest of the aasimar’s body. The head was just covered by foreskin. Not much, but enough to cover it, make it look a bit different from the average shaft. He took it by the base, tilting it up to his face. After feeling Hazel suck him off, he had an idea of how this was supposed to work, but this was the first time that he’d stared a cock down before. The idea of actually putting it in his mouth… Well, it wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be. [i]This is punishment. It’s supposed to be bad.[/i] And yet, the more he considered it, it wasn’t. He hadn’t done enough for his lord just yet, and had existed on his master’s lands on gratitude rather than his own merits. If he was going to earn his place, he might as well do it by pleasuring the aasimar as well as through his own magic. [i]Just…give it a lick…[/i] He leaned in, dragging his tongue against the dark flesh at the base, slowly working towards the tip. It wasn’t so different from the taste of someone’s flesh at the base, but the further towards the tip he went, the saltier and…more pungent it got, pulling at his mind, making him focus on it more than he wanted. [i]I’m tasting a cock. I’m tasting a cock.[/i] And for all that, his dick was still throbbing, still pushing into the front of his pants, still forcing him to enjoy it for some reason. His cheeks were on fire beneath the soft layer of fur on his face, and it didn’t help that he was getting his head rubbed. The aasimar’s hand stroked just behind his head, right where Vitus might have scratched a dog for being good. The thought didn’t make it better. It made it hotter. He shivered as he pulled his Master’s cock into his mouth, suckling along the head and pulling it further towards his throat. The sensation was…very different, to put it mildly, and he groaned as he bobbed forward, pressing it down on his tongue. “Yes, that’s a good boy. A good dog for doing what he’s told.” His tail wagged despite itself, and Vitus whimpered around the shaft. The next scratch along the back of his head took some of the sting away. “Don’t worry. Just suck. Lick and suck. It’s what a good dog does.” What a good dog did. He shivered as those words pushed into his skull, taking up residence and repeating themselves. What a good dog does. What a good dog does. He wasn’t a dog, but the urge to be good was undeniable. He wanted to serve. He wanted to make his master happy. Lick, suck, lick, suck. He worked his head down, pulling the shaft into his throat. The muzzle helped a bit, making it easier to contain the whole thing as he sucked and bobbed along it. The fleshy taste was fading, replaced with the salty taste of pre-cum. It wasn’t as bad as he thought…and he was rapidly starting to like it. Vitus moaned as he groped himself, squeezing his crotch as he felt the urges rising. His cock was harder than ever, starting to drip in his pants. He wanted to stroke, wanted to squeeze, wanted to hump. “Take it out, good dog.” The good dog did just that, moaning as he pushed his head forward, burying his sensitive nose in the aasimar’s crotch fuzz. His other hand was busy at the straps of his pants, fishing out his dick and letting it throb, bouncing and bobbing in the open air. It was so hot and eager that it was steaming. He shivered as he wrapped furry fingers around it, pumping his fist up and down eagerly. It felt so good. He would bob his head forward, sucking, tasting, swallowing, then he would pull back. At the same time, he’d pump his hand up and down his shaft, giving himself a good stroke, a good tug at the same speed that he sucked on his Master’s dick. It encouraged him to go faster, to take it deeper, and his Master rewarded him with scritches and moans. He panted every time that he felt that slippery cock pop into his throat, and he moaned when that hand on the back of his head rewarded him for his devotion. More, more, more was required, and he couldn’t stop. “This is your punishment, Vitus. Whenever you feel guilty for how you’ve treated your slave, you will come here, and allow yourself to be used,” his Master said, his voice far-off. “This is what you will do. This is how you will discipline yourself.” “How…mmmph…I will…ah…discipline myself…” “Such a good boy. Keep sucking…” There was the feeling of something else happening, someone else around, but Vitus couldn’t bring himself to look away from the cock before him. He heard voices around him, even his Master talking, but the actual topic of conversation was never important enough for him to really latch onto it. All that mattered was giving service and making his Master feel good. Up, down, up, down, every suck something a bit more interesting, a bit different. He could taste the differences in his Master’s pre as he got closer and closer to orgasm, and he could smell the difference in his Master’s body, too. There was a hotter smell as he got closer to climax, something that was thick and musky and…and powerful. Different to other men. Different to him, but more similar to Vitus’s own scent down below than…than to others… There was something in that, something that felt important, but it slipped away before he could think about it. No, all that mattered was the cock. All that mattered was his Master’s pleasure. All that mattered was giving it what it needed. He bobbed his head faster, faster, and faster still until he was skull-fucking himself on his Master’s shaft. His cheeks still burned, but not nearly as much as they used to. No, this was the right thing to do. This was the good thing to do. This was the fun thing to do. Finally, the Master’s grunts stopped, and both hands grabbed him by the back of his head. Vitus was rammed right down to the base of the Master’s shaft, forced to suck it all the way down his throat, to swallow to keep from choking. He gasped for it, eagerly sucking more, swallowing the load that he was given. His own seed spurted into the grass below, something that was forgotten as soon as it happened. His balls, furry and still so full, dangled well below, almost touching the grass from how heavy they had become. He moaned, thrusting his hips slightly, almost like he was trying to get permission for more. He didn’t get it. Instead, his Master pulled back, cock getting tucked back into robes, and the aasimar smiled down at him. “You did well. Do you feel appropriately disciplined?” “I feel…something.” “If you still feel worse, we can take this further.” There was a deliberate twitch of the bulge in the aasimar’s robes, but as much as Vitus had enjoyed what had happened, he didn’t want to take it further. Not now. Not here. Not yet. “I am…sufficiently chastised, Master.” “Good. Then you may return to your quarters.” “My quarters?” “I will have a task for you and the dark one tonight. I suggest you rest…or at least try after your next round.” “W-what makes you think that there’ll be a next round?” he asked, blushing. “She is as wound up as you are. And you are very, very…wound up. It won’t take much to push her over the edge.” # Cazna was still in the process of bathing when she heard the door to her ‘master’s’ shared quarters open. She growled under her breath, still scraping the wash cloths over her feet and legs, shivering every time that she saw a bit more dirt come off. The fact that it was still there, the fact that it still coated her – A flash of yellow caught her attention. No more than a tiny dot of it, something that could be anything else, but she knew what it was. “No, no, no, I’m clean. No coming out. No coming out. I’m clean. I’m clean!” She scrubbed at her big toe, scrubbed at it until the slight scale that had begun to form came off. It peeled off with a bit of her skin, but it was better than leaving it there. It was better than letting her demon side out. [i]No…not that bad yet…not that bad yet…[/i] She had told Vitus that the filth was something that the worst of the worst did. That to be seen as dirty was to be seen as something not quite elven. She hadn’t told him the full truth of the matter. Not when it came to her, at least. Being sworn to a demon lord meant that certain things enhanced the aspects of the demon lord in question. Melchiresa was invoked during a hunt, or during breeding. The more that one did such things, the more that the demon lord was pulled to the fore, and the more that one felt affected by the demon…and the more of their characteristics that one began to take on. With her lord, the demon Hashila, there were multiple things that could invoke them and their power. Taking to the air and working from the heights invoked their nature of flight. Working with knives invoked their nature of sharp talons. And working in filth… She shivered as she imagined the mud between her toes again. It wasn’t just that it was wrong, it was that it was sinfully wrong and delightful at the same time. Her harpy mistress, the Lady of the Fiery Skies, cast shadows from her wings as she flew across the many hells. Hashila’s scent pulled her flocks to her, warping and distracting those beneath the shadows of her wings, and gave her the strength to strike. Hashila savored the raunch and the filth and the dirt, as many harpies did. They were scavengers, after all, ripping through things when they were helpless. And the more that she touched… [i]Are my toes longer? Are the talons coming? My fingers, are there feathers? Am I starting to lay eggs?[/i] The answers were all no, but she knew that it was only a matter of time. She could fuck and hold back the lusts of her demon lord. She could control how she fought, how she killed. But in the dirt, in the dust… She remembered when the pact was made. The mistresses of her House had demanded to see evidence of the pact. They’d dirtied her, fouled her, and she had slowly transformed. She had become something else, something that was more and more out of control the more that she changed. By the time that she had taken her wings and taloned legs, she had been less herself than she had ever been. Not just in body, but in mind, her urges taken from her and warped to be what Hashila wanted. She was not an elf, not a drow, but a harpy. It had taken her weeks to get back to normal. Even now, she could still remember how she’d looked, how dirty and horrible and not-her that she had been, and it sent shivers down her spine. “I am me. I am Cazna. I am not…that…” She stroked the washing cloths between her toes again, and then up her legs. Nothing was left, and she was pretty sure that she had scraped off half a layer of skin in the process, but at least everything was clean, now. Everything was back to how it was supposed to be. [i]No more dirt,[/i] she thought, even as some part of her clenched inside at the thought of it. [i]No more mud…[/i] she thought, even as her juices were still rolling free from the demon’s curse. [i]No more…foulness…[/i] she thought, even as the word alone made her want to moan. Control. She had to maintain [i]control![/i] Knock, knock. “Cazna? We need to talk,” Vitus said. “…Coming.” [b][u][center]The End[/center][/u][/b]