[b][u][center]Special Positions, Special Perks Part 8 For a-lycotonum By Draconicon[/center][/u][/b] Whatever he had planned to say to Cazna flew out of his mind when the drow stood naked in front of him again. Completely naked as she was, the urge to rut her, to take her the way that Lord Brundir had suggested almost overwhelmed him. His cock throbbed harder in his pants than it ever had for Hazel, and it almost convinced him to just take her there, no matter what sort of consent she might have in the matter. The fact that he was harder for her than he had been for Hazel was enough to make him step back, enough to make him stop, enough to make him take a second to think. He told Cazna that they would be assigned to something later in the day, that they’d need to get some rest, and then he ran to his own bedroom. Taking off his clothes, he stared down at his dick, shaking his head at the dog cock that stood out from his crotch. The thing was getting him into trouble, or at least, it was trying to. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear some minor demon of Melchiresa was living in there, trying to get him to fuck anything that had a pulse. The very idea… He shivered, feeling the temptation to grab his cock by the base and start jerking off. A knot had already started to form there, begging for the pressure of a bitch’s hole around it, and his fist would be a poor imitation. That didn’t matter to the demonic libido that he was fighting, though. He wanted…he needed… Vitus growled under his breath, slapping his hand against his cock and summoning a cold spell. “NNNNGH!” The sudden drop in temperature and the massive pain that followed would have confirmed that he was part demon if nothing else had. Demons [i]hated[/i] the cold. But it was enough to put his cock back in his sheath, and he rolled onto his stomach with a groan, burying his head in his pillow and doing his best not to think about the naked drow only a few rooms away. The fact that her collar would make her obey him was bad enough, but the idea that it would make her want to obey him, too, if he phrased it right… Lord Brundir had said that it might be the only way to guide her back to the light, but there was something insidious about it, too. The temptation to work on her mind rather than just her body, to order her to find some things enjoyable when she didn’t want to… “Mmmph…Go down, and stay down,” he muttered to his dick. “Just…stay.” It was not something that his dick would obey, and he knew that. But it was better than pretending that this was alright… Even if he knew that he would dream of her… # [i]Vitus stood on a throne, a throne of hounds. They writhed beneath him, growling and forming one shape after another, an endless pack that begged to be released. They wanted to hunt, to catch, to rut. They wanted to fuck and breed. They wanted to take down the prey and those that opposed him, and he was barely holding onto the urges to let them loose. Across from him, a harpy with a familiar face, her talons fouled with dust and mud and even seed, her sharp toes curling in the dirt as she landed. A great shadow fell across her from the sky, and Vitus realized that a similar shadow fell across him from the great Den that loomed behind him in the distance. In a way, they both stood under the shadows of ancient powers, though the harpy admitted her allegiance while he… Did he? Or did he fight? Or did he pretend? “You want me,” the harpy said, half-floating on magical energy rather than on the actual flap of her wings. “You want me…crave me…need me,” she said, her legs spreading ever so slightly, showing off a pussy that was both gaping and tight, oozing and empty, both bred and waiting to be bred, all at the same time. “I can be yours…if you ask.” The urge to do just that was almost overpowering. Here, now, he was more dog than ever. His cock had grown to an insane size, a rod of rutting that would break any mortal and many demons that took it. It would mold them to be proper bitches rather than just sluts. He could take her, hold her… But there was a scent in the air, a thing of warning. He growled deep in his throat, his paw-hands clenching tightly as he stood up. Feet had morphed to paws, as well, leaving him standing on tiptoe. “Do you think I’m a fool? I would exchange one lord for another?” “Better the demon you know than the devil you don’t,” the harpy said. “I serve no-one!” “And who’s the fool to believe that? We all serve something…” She flapped forward, her smell – a raunchy, thick scent of cum and musk and sex and sweat – blowing through the air. He groaned, his cock stirring further from his sheath, his balls, his bitch-breakers, swelling at the smell alone. The harpy extended one leg, her toes playing over his shaft like the fingers of an eager woman. She smiled at him, her bare breasts lifting. “Serve under my lord, and I will give you the pleasures you crave.” “Grrrrr…let me go…” “You don’t need to become one of us. Just hunt where [b]we[/b] say, instead of –” “Let me go!” He swiped at her leg, forcing it away, but no more. She flapped away, and the dream began to fade. Demonic power slipped away, and more normal dreams followed…[/i] # He woke again at the edge of night, and he looked out the window to see the last light of the sun slowly fading from sight. The edge of moonlight was not enough to light the world yet, but it would be, soon. He rolled out of bed with a groan, getting to his feet. He wobbled slightly, feeling some fur along the backs of his legs, and he realized that the dream had done more than just give him a temptation. It had extended some of the transformation. Vitus looked down, seeing what the damage was. Thankfully, it hadn’t been enough to turn him into a dog from the waist down already. He didn’t have paws, nor were his legs furred or his feet off of the ground the way that animals tended to walk. He did have darkened toe-nails, the beginning of claws on the ends of the digits, and he had a bit of a stiffer pose as he walked around, but that wasn’t too bad. He could get used to it. He could make sure that it didn’t interfere with any of the operations that they had planned. Lifting one foot, he saw that some of the flesh had darkened there. The beginning of pads showed on his sole, and he hoped that wasn’t the start of something worse. [i]Here’s hoping that anyone that sees me just mistakes me for a werewolf.[/i] There were some werewolves in the city, after all. Not a lot of good ones, but being seen as a werewolf wasn’t the death sentence that being seen as a hellhound was. Since he hadn’t been fully transformed, he was pretty sure that he would be okay, but it was always a bit iffy when one was trying out something new. Shaking his head, Vitus forced his half-transformed feet into a pair of boots, and then dragged a pair of pants on. It was the reverse of what he’d normally do, but it was all loose now that he had started transforming. He half-wondered if his Master assumed that he’d eventually rip through normal clothes if they were all he had when the transformation hit, and he shivered at the thought. Sexy, and embarrassing. He didn’t like the sexy part. Shaking his head, he pulled on a tunic and a cloak, and then left his room. Cazna was already waiting in the center part of their shared quarters, naked as the day she was born, and staring out the window at the moon. Her legs were pulled up on the couch, and her feet were pressed together. She looked…well, rather immaculate, and reflective, for that matter, under the moonlight. He shook his head, tapping her on the shoulder as he passed by. “We should report to Lord Brundir.” “I guess.” “Come on.” “…I hate this collar. I hate it so much.” She grumbled as she followed after, but didn’t do much more. The day’s heat had been enough to dry the ground, leaving no more mud for her to worry about, or dust, for that matter. She strode forward with purpose and pride in her eyes, as if she was trying to ignore everything else that might be affecting her. It worked rather well. She looked rather lovely the way that she walked with purpose and pride, her head held high, her chest thrust out…The piercings there reflected well in the moonlight, and his eyes were drawn up and down her body more than he expected. Of course, that also meant that his erection was coming back, stretching the front of his pants, but he did his best to ignore that. Instead, he put his attention on the manor before them, trying to think of what his Master might have for them to do today. The very idea of having to accomplish a task for him this late at night was a bit strange, and he hoped that it wasn’t something that would make him question the aasimar any further. It was hard enough to justify this as it was. They finally reached the front door, and the deva was there to greet them. The glowing figure bowed its head ever so slightly, and gestured with one arm down a side hallway. “The Master will receive you in one of the side rooms. Follow me.” They did, though they shared a look in the process. Being met by the deva was a bit strange, all things considered. It was almost like the other servants weren’t allowed to know what was going on. The drow shook her head, and Vitus sighed. “It’s probably nothing,” he said. “Very unlikely, and you know it.” “Don’t remind me…” They followed behind the glowing deva, the drow seeming more confident than ever now that they were back inside and she could stand on the stony floor. She kept her head high and her body firm, and she showed more confidence than he did. They passed by one room after another, bypassing libraries, studies, and more. When they finally turned and entered one of the rooms, Vitus was rather surprised that it was neither an educational room nor a meeting one. Rather, it was a bedroom. The aasimar sat at the edge of his bed, wrapped in a blue nightgown. He smiled as they entered, gesturing for them to wait at the door. The deva shut it, and Lord Brundir nodded again. “Now we may speak privately.” “This is a…weird place for that, Master,” Vitus said. “It’s better than allowing everyone to hear what we might have to say. And if there were supernatural creatures listening, ones that are powerful enough to get through my spells, then I imagine that they would be listening at the central parts of my manor, rather than out here.” There was a slight twitch from Cazna, one that Vitus felt rather than saw. It was almost like she was…disappointed? [i]What did you do?[/i] he wondered, but the aasimar was already continuing on. “I have a task for the pair of you, one that is better off unknown by the servants.” “…I hope that it’s legal,” Vitus said. “By the strictest definition, barely.” “…” “It is nothing harmful, by my deva.” That oath again. Swearing by the connection to the divine. Something made him suspicious about that, still, but there was little that he could say to challenge it. After all, what aasimar would dare actually risk something like that? He nodded, and Lord Brundir continued. “As you might know, there are many spells that require certain…components. In this case, I am in great need of silver powder, and enchanted silver powder, at that.” “A binding spell?” Vitus asked. “Very good. Yes, a very powerful spell, for a number of outsiders.” “But…why? For who?” “That’s not part of your briefing. Trust me when I say, this binding spell will ensure the safety and security for a great deal of Absalom for years to come. All I need is for you to ensure that the delivery is made properly, and then see to it that the silver is brough to me.” “…Why would you need us to do that?” “Well, for her…” Brundir fixed the drow with a stare. “It is a test of her loyalty, a chance for her to show that she has learned from her mistakes and that she’s able to come back to the light. For you… “For you, it is a way of seeing whether I picked the right person as my bodyguard and assistant. To see if you can handle directing others, if you can delegate, if you can run an operation given only a pair of objectives. Consider it a way of proving my faith in you, my sorcerer.” Vitus rubbed the back of his head. He didn’t like the sound of that, but what was he supposed to say? He had only just prove his worth as a whore, and while he had saved Brundir from the assassination attempt, he doubted that was going to be enough to secure his position for the rest of his days. And it was true, too, that the aasimar hadn’t seen more than a little bit of his abilities, and if he didn’t justify himself soon, he ran the risk of being dismissed, no matter how desirable he might be. The fact that the horned master of the house continued to smile didn’t help, either. There was confidence there, but Vitus had no idea if the confidence was in him or in something else. “Can I count on the pair of you?” he asked. “I…yes, Master.” “And you, drow?” “…I can make sure everything works out.” There was a brief stare-down between the aasimar and the dark elf, one that eventually forced the drow to lower her eyes and stare at the ground. Brundir nodded. “I’m glad that we understand each other, dark one. Now, a few things.” “Yes, Master?” “You will not reveal who your employer is to the smugglers bringing the shipment in.” “Smugglers? I thought you –” “Don’t interrupt.” Vitus felt his throat close, not quite a squeeze in his neck, but enough for him to remember where he belonged in the pecking order. He nodded, and the squeeze faded. “You will not tell the smugglers who you are working for. They know me, and they aren’t fond of me. The name Gralon Brundir will likely spook them, all things considered, and we do not need them running, or reporting the full details of our agreement to the city authority. It will not end well for them, but it will slow us down. “Second, you will ensure that the city watch does not follow you back to my manor. I don’t care how you bring the silver back to me, but you [i]will[/i] ensure that you are not followed. This is non-negotiable. Do you understand?” The more that he heard, the less that he liked this mission. He didn’t know what had happened, or what was going to be done with the silver, but he knew that it wasn’t going to be benevolent. At the very least, it sounded like the subjects that were due to be bound were not there of their own free will, nor were they wanting to be bound if they needed to smuggle the silver in. After all, enchanted silver could be bought in small quantities in the city. Some places, like the Arcanamirium, could buy more due to the fact that they were licensed to use it in experiments on larger scales, and had been vetted by the city. He imagined that Lord Brundir had something similar. If he needed more silver than that, then either he was binding something on the level of a demon lord, or he was binding an entire army of outsiders to his service. Neither felt quite right for him, but he had sworn to obey. And it was, technically, still legal. It was just the amount that wasn’t. Vitus bowed, holding the position for a few moments before standing back up. “I will do what you ask, my Master.” “Good. And you, drow?” “…I will follow orders.” “That’s good enough. Now.” The aasimar gestured to the door. “You may leave. I expect the shipment here by morning.” They departed, the deva seeing them to the front door before locking them out. The two of them looked at each other, Vitus rubbing the back of his head. “I guess we just go, huh?” “I assume you’re not allowing me to get dressed, then.” “Oh, uh –” “Apologies.” The deva had returned. They spun about, only to get some new clothes thrown in their face. Vitus barely caught his before the bundle hit the ground, and Cazna was scarcely better. “These are your disguises, as mandated by my master. Wear them and be happy.” The door closed again, leaving them standing on the porch in the dark, with nothing but moonlight to illuminate them. Vitus shook his head, unfolding his clothes to see what they were. [i]Arcanamirium robes?[/i] He blinked as he stared at the shimmery cloth, the purple-blue of the academy’s quartermasters flowing in rippling, intertwining patterns along the robe. It was so strange, so different…and so very illegal to pose as someone from the academy if one was not associated with them. And despite his graduation, Vitus was most definitely [i]not[/i] associated with them. Yet, at the same time, it was impossible to deny the command. He already had pulled his tunic off, and was working on getting his boots free when he heard the soft grunt and grumble from his side. “What?” “He gave me…this…” Sure that it couldn’t be [i]that[/i] bad, he shook his head. Glancing at the clothes she held, though, his cheeks burned. “Okay, that’s…that’s a little more extreme than I thought…” “Oh? You think?” It was little more than a slave’s attire, a dancing girl’s outfit that had somehow been stripped down even further than that. There was a decoration that would fit over the enchanted gems in her collar to hide just what she was wearing there, but that was the most covering that she would get. Metal bands would loop around her breasts, giving a slight, mostly-transparent silk covering to her nipples, and little more. There was a band of thin, beaten metal that would fit around her waist, and transparent loincloths for her backside and her pussy, but… Well, there was nothing more than that. It was specifically the attire that a slave would be given, and a very specific sort of slave, at that. He blushed as she had to have him help her put it on, the ‘bra’ barely fitting over her breasts. They were larger, heavier than he remembered, and they barely fit through the loops of metal that were supposed to support them. “Did these…grow?” he asked. “Don’t ask.” “But…” “Did you change too?” “…” “That’s what I thought.” He blushed worse as he realized that he was groping her breasts while he was helping her get her clothes on, and he tried not to think about it, putting it out of his head as best he could. Instead, he focused on helping her get into the hip-hugging metal. Even that was pushed around, though not as much as the bra was. Her ass seemed to be pushing against the loincloth in the back, lifting it up a little more, and the bottom of the silks didn’t even come to the bottom of her rump. It didn’t help that she was showing off everything, either, and both of them were at least a little aroused by the end of getting her dressed. There was just one problem. “I want shoes,” she said. “There aren’t any.” “Get some.” “Slaves don’t wear shoes in Absalom.” Not that there were many slaves, for that matter. There were some churches that allowed it, and there were guilds and some cultures and enclaves throughout the city that allowed a bit of a throwback to the cultures that had developed the practice way back when, but that was as far as it went. That said, they were always kept nearly-naked, they were always shoe-less, and they were always – Right. There was one more thing. He looked down at the ground, realizing that they must have dropped something, and found that he was right. Vitus winced as he knelt down, pulling a pair of shackles off of the porch. “I think these are yours.” “You’re kidding me.” “Nope. This is all the footwear you get.” “…Fine. Put them on.” “Blame him, not me.” # As soon as they left Brundir’s grounds, the feeling of being exposed increased ten-fold. It wasn’t just that they were off the lands that the aasimar controlled, either. It was the fact that they were in the open, the fact that they were no longer in his direct power, and the fact that anyone that saw them could actually act against them. Cazna watched Vitus pull his hood even tighter against his head, though it did nothing to hide the slightly larger ears on the side of his head, the fact that his muzzle still stuck out a bit from the front of it. She doubted that he cared; he just wanted some extra security against being outed, as far as she could tell. Not that she blamed him in the slightest. She wanted nothing more than to turn around and run back to her quarters, and that wasn’t happening. [i]Damn dream…he was supposed to be tempted out of this…[/i] And it had been a risky dream, too. The drow had connected as directly as she dared to the demon lord that she served, embodying the form of the harpy in their shared dream. She had marched right into the shadow of Melchiresa, offering herself, offering pleasure, trying to seduce the hellhound within to her side. Instead…well, it had backfired, and badly. The blow hadn’t harmed her dream-self, but there was an invisible bruise along her leg that ached every time she took a step. The demon inside of Vitus was different to the one that was inside of her. Hashila was always trying to take her over, always trying to push that demonic side inside the drow forward, encouraging her to lose the more mortal piece of her mind and soul in exchange for the demon. Melchiresa had done something different with Vitus. There was a demonic side in there, but it was one that seemed more content to lend Vitus power rather than to leap forward on its own. The fact that he sat upon a pack of his own creation rather than being supported by the Den behind him…that was very different. It meant that he had a very different relationship with the demon lord, and with the demonic power inside of him than she did. He had more of a choice. Not much more, but still some, which was more than what most of the demon-touched had. She wanted to try and puzzle that out, to stay home and see if there was a way to pull Vitus into the web of plans that Hashila and the other allied demon lords had put together. She had warned him, warned him as best she could, about the devil that the hound was choosing to work for, but it hadn’t landed. He was too stubborn. [i]I have to break that. If I can’t, then we’re both doomed.[/i] It was a matter of self-preservation, nothing more. If she could break that hold that Brundir had over her ‘master,’ then they could escape. If she could make him question it enough, then there was a chance, ever so slight, for them to get the hell out of Absalom before that control became absolute. But not tonight. Tonight…they were in the filth. She winced as she felt the squelch of mud and trash between her toes, the way that it squished and formed to the gaps between the digits, how it sucked at the bottom of her feet and tried to drag her down every time they walked down an alley that hadn’t been paved or covered by stone as the others had been. It was a constant reminder of her ‘lesser’ status… And the demon inside craved more of it. It sent fire to her pussy every time that she felt the mess down there. Every second that she was aware of how much she was sweating, she could feel the demon embrace it, wanting to go harder, wanting to shine in the moonlight as she worked up a sweat like some raunchy peasant… Like some back-alley whore… The thought made her pussy clench as she followed behind her ‘master,’ the leash that she was forced to wear for the role making her grumble and shiver at the same time. The fact that she was forced into this didn’t matter enough to make her hate it, and…and in some ways, it almost made it hotter. Cazna had always been controlled. Sure, she fought against the power of her House from time to time, and she put great defiance against Hashila in order to maintain her elven form, but there’d never been a real way to keep fighting. It had always been for the sake of appearances, to look like she had power, to look like she had control. Now that it was stripped away… She walked on the precipice between falling into uncontrolled pleasure at the feeling of being controlled like this and slipping into a full-blown panic attack at losing everything. Every step pushed her one way or the other, and knowing that she was getting filthier with each step only made it worse. Every so often, she saw a flicker of yellow through the mud on her legs, the beginning of harpy limbs. Her arms would feel lighter, the bones in her body thinning, and she had to fight to maintain her own body. The additional heft to her ass and breasts were, surprisingly, the things that allowed her to hold onto her mortality the easiest. The slight ache from the weight on her chest and the unfamiliar bounce and pull of the weight on her ass kept her thinking about what she used to be, what she had lost. It kept her thinking of what she should be, rather than what Hashila wanted her to be. But it was barely enough, and it was getting harder by the second to hold onto that sort of view. “Mmmph…” She hissed as they came to a halt at the end of the alley. They’d reached a crossroads near the port, and from her time scouting the city, she knew it would be mere minutes before they were at the docks. She couldn’t function like this. She couldn’t…she couldn’t focus, she couldn’t make herself do anything while she was fighting to keep herself afloat. There was an option that she’d been avoiding, but…if she was going to do her job, she needed to take it. Much as she hated it. “Vitus…'Master,'” she corrected herself, grimacing. “What?” “Make me like it.” “…What?” he asked, his eyes wide beneath his hood as he turned to stare at her. “What did you say?” “You heard me. Make me…make me like…this,” she said, gesturing at herself. “I can’t…I can’t think…” “But last time –” “Fuck last time.” She stomped her foot, and instantly regretted it as it squelched into the cool mud and mess in the back-alley. The feeling of it squelching around her foot filled her mind with dirty demon thoughts. Of her being made to kneel in the muck, of being shoved against the wall or into the dirt, of her ass being held in the air as she was fucked and filled, made to ooze cum as her tail-feathers grew in and her talons grew longer and her legs turned – She shook the thought from her mind, panting softly as she realized just how far she’d dropped, and just how fast. Cazna was still panting, her pierced clit throbbing. “Fuck last time,” she repeated. “I need you to say it, or I’m…I’m going to be useless. I can’t…I can’t stand that…” Not again. Not when she was so helpless under Hashila’s control before. Not when she couldn’t think save as a harpy eager to spread the corruption through the world. Not when she needed to think clearly now if she wasn’t going to be some dick’s pet. Vitus kept staring at her as if she was mad, but she didn’t budge. She kept staring back, not shifting in the slightest. She needed this. She needed him to know, to understand, that she needed this. Finally, Vitus sighed. “You need me to do this that bad?” She nodded. “Fine. I order you…” There was a pause. Another pause where she had to worry about whether the muck was going to affect her, another pause in which she had to deal with the sweat running down her back and her breasts, soaking between them, making her feel wet from head to toe, and not just in a sexual way. “I order you to feel comfortable with dirt and dirtiness, to not hate it, and to be able to choose whether you like it or not.” That…wasn’t quite what she wanted, but it was better than nothing. A lot better, as she felt the panic fading from her mind. She didn’t fight it, this time. Instead, she allowed it to run away, to be suppressed beneath the collar. The drow let out a long, almost moaning sigh of relief as she lost that tension. Of course, that allowed her arousal to skyrocket, but that wasn’t a bad thing. She had been dealing with that for the last few days, and as long as she found something to fuck tonight, Cazna knew she could suppress it again. She’d just have to make sure that she didn’t let Vitus get away when they were done with this task. She stood a little taller, smiled a little sultrier, and slowly swayed forward. She even lifted one dirty foot, fanning her toes, advertising herself as a dirty little slave. “Mmmm, let’s keep going…the sooner we get this job done, the sooner you can show me how much fun it is to get [i]really[/i] dirty…” [b][u][center]The End[/center][/u][/b]