[b][u][center]Special Teachings from Special Professors Part 7 For a-lycotonum By Draconicon[/center][/u][/b] Breeder. The word echoed in his head. The fact that he had called another person that – let alone someone that had helped him and had been as kind to him as Hazel – would have shocked him mere hours ago. Now, it was just another term. Another term like ‘bitch,’ which was what the half-elf was to him now. The once-human sorcerer gripped her by the shoulder before she could run, smirking through his illusion as he took a step closer to her. “You are coming with me.” “No, you…you’ve lost it…you can’t be serious. I finally –” “You didn’t do anything.” He squeezed her shoulder, letting her feel the claws that were hidden beneath the spells covering him. She gasped, her eyes going wide, and more than that, her body reacting…differently. [i]She’s scared…but aroused…[/i] Vitus could smell her, the arousal that was oozing out of her. The way that her nipples suddenly popped against the front of her robe, showing off her excitement in a way that he knew that she didn’t mean to. The way that she was panting, the way that she had arched her back as soon as she felt the claws of her hunter. Oh, she understood. She understood in a way that only one touched by the pack could understand. He took a step forward, forcefully grabbing her robes and pulling them up. She didn’t stop him, her eyes too wide, her body too affected by the touch of their master. Melchiresa was already in her… No… He stopped, sniffing the air. There was a scent that came from those that were filled with the master’s essence, and this one didn’t have that. Her arousal was there, and as he lifted her robe the rest of the way, he could see that her body was still touched by the curse. But even as his fingers probed at that bestial pussy, at that puffy spade between her legs, he could not scent the master on her. “What did you do?” “What I would have – Nnngh – would have done to you…” “Impossible.” He didn’t let her respond. Instead, he hooked a clawed finger upwards, forcing it into her puffy, swollen sex, feeling her, sensing her. Even without the master’s essence inside of her, the corruption had still sunk its hooks into her body. She was still marked, still changed enough for the ritual. He could still breed her the way that the packmaster wanted. “You are coming with me,” he repeated. “To…to where?” “Where I command.” He pulled his fingers free again. Oh, she was a juicy bitch. A juicy one indeed, with all the wetness that she’d left along his fingers. He dragged his tongue across them, savoring her flavor before walking around behind her. “March.” He pushed her into the dark hallways of the Arcanamirium, and she moved without complaint. The hellhound smirked to himself, his cock already throbbing, already eager to fill her, and only the hunting, stalking spells of the demon lord he served kept his shaft from being thrust into the open right then and there. It was a short trip back to Packmaster Orlov’s lecture hall, but they had to stop several times to keep from being seen. Once from a security patrol, once from a passing light spell. Either one could have outed them to the authorities of the school, and he could not afford that. Not now. Not yet. He’d held her tightly, keeping the half-elf pressed against him as she squirmed and wriggled. The feeling of her robe-covered rump against his cock had been pleasing, and he marked her with his scent, his spray. She stiffened when he did, and he remembered how she’d moaned, trembled, cum upon his cock so easily when she had tried to soothe their needs before. He chuckled, licking her neck. “I will make you scream again…” “You…You won’t…I’ll still…I’ll save you…” “There is no need to save me…not anymore…” The human part of his brain was slowly weakening, falling beneath both the corruption and the powerful loyalty of a dog to its master. To the packmaster, Orlov, and to the master of all packs, Melchiresa. Soon, they arrived, stepping through the door. He dropped the illusion around him, growling as his muzzle came into view again, rubbing his face as he felt…proper. Properly himself once more. “Mmmph…that’s…better…” His tongue dropped out of his mouth for a moment, a puff of flame and smoke leaving his muzzle before he could pull it back in. The half-elf turned to face him, her eyes going wide at his new appearance. He chuckled, stroking one clawed finger along the side of her face. “You look surprised.” “I thought…I didn’t know…” “You didn’t know I’d already become something better?” “I didn’t know it had gone so far…” “I told you. There’s no need to save me. Not anymore.” “But there’s still a way. If you’d just stop, hold still –” “No. The altar awaits. It is time for you to join the pack.” She stared at him, her eyes widening in shock, but he gave her no time to argue. They were already wasting time, already late, and he would not make them wait longer. He would not deny himself what [i]he[/i] wanted any longer. As his canine cock throbbed, he dragged her through the theater up to the stage, then down through the secret door that was built into the floor. The hot smell of sulfur, the thick scent of musk and need, the smoky smell of Hell: it all rose from the depths of the underground, calling him to it. Streaked through it all was a most unwilling arousal from the half-elf, something that he could tell she was fighting. He smirked to himself as he imagined her spread out, her fleshy form changing under the influence of their new master, their new demon lord. The fur spreading across her, a muzzle and paws growing in to match that spade between her legs. Soon, she’d be his breeding bitch, and he’d be her pack alpha. [i]No. You will be her stud. I will always remain alpha,[/i] the demon whispered in his head. [i]I...hear and obey…[/i] The hellhound bowed his head, and for a split second, the desires of the human and the hound were the same. They wanted to strike, to hunt, to do as they wished with their power, but the demon lord, the huntmaster, the packmaster… No, it was better to be quiet, to allow the demon lord to remain in charge. The gifts of power were from the great and powerful Melchiresa, and there was no fighting that. No matter how much he wished this bitch to be his, and his alone, there was no point in fighting against the rules of another. He was bound, and soon, she would be too. Vitus followed the tunnel, pushing the half-elf along with him, keeping his head down and his thoughts quiet as they moved through the dark. It was only as they got closer to the altar that he began to wonder why he hadn’t needed to use further force to persuade Hazel to do what he asked. # The priestess of Erastil – for she considered herself a priestess for channeling his power, even if she did not yet have her certification for it – walked quietly through the tunnels, feeling the rock underfoot grinding against her bare soles. It was like a torment just to be made to walk through this passage, but she knew that the true terror was yet to come. She forced herself to keep calm, to hold onto her priorities. Vitus. She had to save Vitus, if there was any chance to it at all. And for that… For that, she needed to be at the core of the corruptive power. Her…arousal…had been part of the reason she had followed him without complaint. No matter how much she had worked to purge herself of the corruption, all she had done was remove the essence of the demon lord inside of her. Melchiresa had no direct power over her any longer, and would not so long as she didn’t give in to the corruption in this place, or the power in the hellhound behind her. But the arousal… Her sex was still that of a wanton bitch, and it drooled heavily as they walked along, staining the floor and soaking it as they went. Her cheeks burned hot as she was reminded with every step that it was no longer human, the puffy thing rubbing against her thighs and begging for more attention. That finger inside had not been enough. Not nearly enough. But it was not just that need that pulled her along. [i]The power of my god must touch their altar, their idol, whatever they’ve used as a focus,[/i] Hazel thought. [i]If I can do that…if I can conduct the ritual…then I can free everyone that’s been touched by this huntress…[/i] It was the only chance that they had, the only possible way to bring freedom to Vitus and whoever had started this. Yet, the temptations remained, and no mantra of Erastil could entirely shake it from her mind, no matter how hard she pushed against it. After all, the teachings of Melchiresa were based around similar concepts, if far more hedonistic and controlling than they had been in the cloisters of Erastil. They were still based around family groups – packs, rather than communities, but the ideas were the same there. They were based around helping one another in the pack. And they were…far more…pleasure-seeking… Her cheeks burned as she remembered her dream, remembered the feeling of being hunted, pinned down, [i]rutted[/i] the way that she had been. The raw feeling of such a bestial sort of sex had set her off in a way that nothing, not even her own touch had done in her entire life. [i]That is not the point. I can debate this later, with a clear mind. For now…[/i] She broke off as they finally reached the end of the tunnel. It opened into a smaller cavern than she expected, and revealed a person that she had not anticipated. “Professor Orlov?” she gasped. The older woman turned to face her. Bare breasts bounced, heavier from age, but bigger than she expected. They were the breasts of a fertility goddess rather than a huntress or the old, stern woman that she had remembered. The sight of them sparked a…surprising heat between her legs, particularly as she had never felt any attraction to a woman before. It took her a moment to look down, and she gasped at the sight. “You…oh gods…” The corruption was extremely evident on the other woman. Cloven hooves and thick goat fur ran up and down her legs, making it almost look like she was wearing pants at a distance. Her hips were thick and round, and she had the body of a breeder, even more so than she felt that she might have. Professor Orlov chuckled. “So, he’s finally brought you here. I was half-wondering if he’d decided to take you in the hallways, instead. Not what would have helped our plan, but it would have been understandable with the wanton ways that he follows, now.” “What did you do to him? What did you do to yourself?” “To myself?” The once-human chuckled, strutting across the room, sliding and crossing her thighs with every step in a way that both taunted and teased her sexuality. Hazel’s cheeks burned at the overly-forthright display of lust, and she fought the urge to turn away. “I gave myself to the mistress of the pack, to the master of the hunt. There is nothing wrong with giving yourself to another.” “There is when they’re a demon…” “Demons, gods, there’s little difference in them. One gives you nothing but peace for your service. One gives you gifts of power for it.” “Power at the expense of your soul and your mind.” “Again, is there really any difference? Both sides demand your soul and service. At least my master gives me something in return.” Professor Orlov must have fallen far indeed if she believed that. The power of the gods was a mysterious thing, one that people had to work for years to earn and would never truly understand. Being able to channel heavenly, divine magic was a reward in and of itself, and to think that someone would dismiss it so – “AH!” She gasped as Vitus grabbed her around the middle, his claws sinking into her robe before pulling rapidly to the sides. The cloth shredded, leaving her with nothing but her flesh to cover herself. The feeling of the air around her suddenly seemed to warm, as if her nudity fed the heat in the room. And that heat… She gasped again as he grabbed her thighs, pulling them apart, forcefully exposing her sex to the open air. It almost seemed to twitch, to clench, the puffy, inflamed flesh growing ever more visible. “Mmmm, you are most definitely at the point of breeding,” Professor Orlov said. “I will take great pleasure in seeing a proper breeding bitch come to be.” “This…this will not…will not happen…” “Oh, it will.” The once-human chuckled, turning around. “Melchiresa has been planning this for a long, long time, little one. I have been part of the plans, but I was far from the first. We were hunted, taken down one by one, but the pack always survives. The pack will always find new ways to hunt in turn. “With the pair of you taken, breeding away, the pack will rise. Hellhounds grow quickly to maturity, and they are only weak as pups. With a few litters, there will be more than enough to take this entire school by surprise. Rushing through the halls, tearing down the teachers, corrupting those that had come here to learn…” Professor Orlov chuckled again, looking over her shoulder. “By the end of this, this school will belong to the pack. Melchiresa will be able to declare a hunt upon this world that will raise the demon lord from his status at the bottom of the ladder. Whatever happens after, the name of Melchiresa will be known.” “This…this is all a matter of pride?” “What else is there?” Orlov looked over her shoulder. “Put her on the altar…and take her.” # He had no problem with that order, and every approval. Vitus pushed her along, the human voice in the back of his head little more than the ghost of a memory now, a resistant little annoyance that barely had anything to hold his attention. The only thing that it had left were the emotions attached to this priestess, and that was not enough to stop him. The lingering sense of guilt that fluttered about his heart, the little sense that it was wrong to take her against her will, to make her like him, was not enough to slow him down. All it did was annoy him, push him to want to devote himself further so that it would shut up. His cock pushed him forward, his throbbing, needy, dripping dick running his head as he shoved the half-elf down on the stone altar. The dog-head that oversaw it glowed with the power of Hell, and red eyes watched as he stroked himself to the sight of the naked woman before him. She gasped as he pulled her legs back, slapping shackles of obsidian around her ankles. The altar itself was quick to seal them, to pull them tight, and other chains were swift to wrap about her upper body, binding her arms to the top corners of the altar. [i]She is mine.[/i] The pressure of Melchiresa pressed on his head again, the power of the demon lord forcing him to bend. He growled in annoyance, but the hellhound had no choice. [i]She is yours, to be bred by me,[/i] he corrected himself, and the pressure was released. The end result was the same, but even transformed, there was too much of him that wanted to keep her, to own her, to have her as his own. It had been there even as a human, the urge to take this woman, to have her. Of course, the human had wanted her in a different way to the hellhound. He wanted to take her, break her, turn her into the obedient bitch that all stud dogs needed, the sort that would offer their asses and their sexes at nothing more than a look. The sort that would bend over and thrust their hips in the air at a moment’s notice. The ones that would beg to be dragged around, ass to ass as they were knotted, used, filled, bred. That was the bitch he wanted, and that was what this woman would become. She was panting, hissing, whispering something under her breath as he mounted the altar from her back end, kneeling between her legs. The tapered tip of his cock throbbed as he rubbed it between her thighs, the tip running along her pussy lips before sliding up between her ass cheeks. Beneath him, he felt the flinches, the tensing of muscle as he dripped pre-cum too hot to come from a human. [i]She will be bred…she will be bred and broken…[/i] He was panting, he realized, his hearth pounding in his chest. He squeezed the base of his cock, feeling the infernal power of the hellhound throbbing through his veins, pulsing in his balls, waiting to be released. [i]She will be broken…now![/i] With a bestial roar, he thrust forward, feeling her pussy open before him as it had done in his own bedroom not that long ago. But the clenching, the squeezing, was ever so much better now. Her pussy had been converted, turned from human slit to dog spade, and the differences between the two were immense. One had been rough, difficult to use, while this… This was what sex should have been. This is what rutting and breeding was all about. As her spade bounced, opened, stretched, and then popped him loose again, he kept fucking her, rutting her, filling her to the brim and then emptying her out again. In and out, in and out, each thrust altering her and forcing her to take a bit more, filling her with a bit more of his master’s reality. From the first thrust, black and red fur began to spread across her skin, rushing out from her spaded sex to her thighs, across her rump, up her back. The corruption of the hellhound took hold quickly in the master’s presence, under that light and the warmth of the master’s eyes. Far, far faster than it had with him. “Yes…take her…” Orlov. He looked over his shoulder, his hips never ceasing in their thrusting. The older woman was fingering herself to the show, leaning back and thrusting her hand against her crotch while fondling her breasts. “Take her, Vitus. Fill her to the brim. Show her the truths of Melchiresa’s power. Let her fall into our fold. Let her see what the truth of what we are…and how similar the pack is to her church…” He didn’t know what she was talking about, but he knew that she was giving him permission to go all out on the woman under him. He needed nothing more than that as he leaned forward, growling under his breath as he started humping away, knot-fucking her as the bulb grew in at the base of his shaft. # Hazel could hardly breathe, her mouth working nearly soundlessly as she was fucked from behind. The need that she had been fighting all the way down to the altar was seizing her in its grip, holding her tightly and refusing to let her go. [i]Oh god…oh Erastil…[/i] She didn’t know it would feel so good in reality. It had been bad enough when he had fucked her in his room, when she had succumbed to the bestial musk of the hellhound. She had cum so hard right then and there that the temptation to ride him all day had been a temptation almost overwhelming. She’d wanted nothing so much as she wanted to ride his dick, to take it, to be broken by it. Only her desire to save him had kept her from being taken in by it. Even her own self-preservation hadn’t been enough to do it. But even that didn’t compare to this. The feeling of that knot, the size of that cock, were even bigger than she remembered. Even better than she had fantasized about. The half-elf screamed more than once, the shrill blasts of bliss running from her crotch to her throat breaking her concentration again and again. The fur, the spreading corruption through her body, the transformation that came with it. It was all…so… GOOD! [i]Oh gods…oh gods…breed me…[/i] She could feel her thoughts warping, her brain breaking on his dog dick, feeling the pressure of Hell dragging her down. Even with the freedom of the demon’s direct influence, the need that he had left her had not faded, and it was dragging her down. Even as she felt her skin prickling with fur, even as her belly was twisted, dragging teats out of her tummy, the wrongness could not distract her completely from the pleasure. [i]Nnngh…mmmph…[/i] The only thing that could save her now…the only thing that could save any of them…was the ritual. She kept whispering, forcing herself to start again every time that Vitus made her scream. She was so far away from her god, so far from the surface where the light and warmth of Erastil touched everything, surrounded by the power of his dark opposite. Yet, perhaps, if she could finish it… The words fell from her mouth in little more than whispered breaths, the ritual magic of purging corruption slow building. Every scream shattered it, but every time she started again, she was able to pull a bit more of it together, giving her more to work with. [i]Just a little more…a little more…[/i] Hazel almost broke again as Vitus found a different angle to thrust from, a different point of attack. Her eyes went wide as she slumped forward, her chest hitting the stone altar, and she felt a pressure in her skull, a pushing that meant her muzzle was soon to grow. She didn’t have much time left. [i]Please…please…for the love of…Erastil…Melchiresa…[/i] Her thoughts were all a jumble in her head, wrapped around a mess of need, of sexual lust that was building constantly in her belly. There was no way for her to think straight, no way for her to pull herself together save through the success of the ritual. As the fur was creeping up her neck, she felt Vitus on her back, felt him pressing against her spine. A tail was already growing, pushing out from her back, giving her less and less humanity to hold back the corruption. [i]Mmph…he feels so…so good…[/i] The glow of Melchiresa’s presence was getting stronger. The red light of the eyes was filling the cavern, lighting up the altar, and worse, sinking into her. The urge to hunt, the urge to breed, the urge to make others like her. They were all slipping through the cracks in her mind as her mouth and nose started to push out of her face, growing larger, longer, heavier. Her teeth cut at her tongue, almost making her lose her place again. [i]Submit…[/i] The voice of the demon echoed in her mind. [i]Submit to your place in the pack, and serve. Serve as you would Erastil…serve under me…[/i] Dog cock and dog pussy alike filled her mind, reminding her of all that she would have. Service, and the pleasure that came with it. The chance to improve the pack. The chance to make things better. The chance to give others a place like that, to allow them to improve themselves within the pack. It was…almost enough… Then, the last word of the ritual fell from her lips. Whispered, mechanical, spoken by rote and habit rather than through a true, fervent prayer, it still broke through the red light around her and went to the heavens. [i]Erastil…[/i] She felt it. His light. His pure light came down upon her, then out. The red aura of the demon lord faltered, then was pushed back, the purity streaking through her…and into Vitus. # The human side came rushing to the fore as the hellhound shrieked, drawing back from the purity rushing up its dick. Vitus looked down at what he was doing and leaped away, his knot popping free of the woman beneath him. “No!” Orlov’s shriek of anger came too late. He was free, even if only for a moment, and this time, [i]he[/i] had power. His sorcerous energies were twined about the power of the abyss, of Hell, of the hellhound that he had become. Between his furred fingers, his energies wove, and for the first time in his life, he [i]understood.[/i] Magic burned brightly as he pushed his hands together, following his instincts as he wove the threads of energy into a spiraling orb of white, red, blue, and black. White for purity. Red for destruction. Blue for containment. Black for never-again. “RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!” He roared through a muzzle that was not made for easy speech, holding the orb of power above him. It was so easy, so simple to use it, now. Even as he heard Orlov running across the room, desperate to stop him, he swung his hands down. CRACK! The spell-circle hit the altar, snapping the chains that held Hazel down and sending a crack straight through the middle of it. The black stone shattered wherever it touched, then continued to break, running right up to the head of the demon at the top of it. Vitus watched the head stare down at them, felt the power of the demon lord pushing back against the white light of Hazel’s ritual and the warping destruction of his own spell. For a moment or two, it held the cracks at bay. But only for a moment or two. The dog-head split down the middle, and the red lights in the eyes faded. Suddenly, the room felt…broken. Shattered. The warring powers of god and demon faded away, leaving only the twisting maelstrom that he had unleashed on the altar itself, a maelstrom that was rapidly growing. Hazel jumped away from it, leaning against him, clinging to his arm in exhaustion. He held her tight, digging his feet in as red lines streaked from them into the great vortex that he had summoned. The more red appeared, the more the fur faded from their flesh, the more that the canine features that they’d taken on changed back. And the more that they returned to normal, the greater the vortex became, swelling, churning, growing around them. It had already consumed the altar, and now, he realized, it was threatening to consume all of the underground. “Hazel…” “Nnngh…” She was barely awake, he realized. She looked up at him, and he looked down at her. It felt like a final moment…and he had only one thing to say. And it wasn’t thank you. “I…I love…” “Oh, you bitch…You might have taken me for years…but you’re not taking anything else!” Orlov. He had forgotten about Orlov! He turned, expecting to see his professor summoning magic to bring back the demon, but no. She had raised her hands over her head, symbols and sigils appearing by the dozens above her. Binding, sealing, trapping, containing, altering, weakening. Symbols that he understood, and so many that he didn’t. They flew from her hands, wrapping around the consumed altar in streams of light. They slapped themselves to the vortex he had made, creating a shield around it, forcing it down, pinning it into a circle. [i]She’s saving us…and the Arcanamirium…[/i] He turned back to the older woman, blushing as he realized that her legs had been stripped of their fur, though her feet remained cloven-hoofed. She was panting, shaking, but still managed to draw herself up with some semblance of pride. “And that…is why...you learn…theory.” “…How the hell was [i]that[/i] magical theory?!” he asked, his jaw dropping. “If you paid attention in class, maybe you’d know.” Orlov shook her head. “Years…[i]years[/i] under that demon…Let’s get out of here…we all need some clothes.” Slowly, he nodded his head, gently supporting Hazel against his side as they walked back up the tunnels. The floor was more cracked than before, and it was harder to stay completely upright than he liked, but the tunnel itself was still whole. The vortex hadn’t caused a cave-in or anything that would make it impossible to get out. As he carried the priestess at his side, he couldn’t believe their luck. They had come so close to losing everything to the demon lord. So very, very close. And Hazel, little helpful Hazel, had been the one to draw them back from the brink. She was amazing, and if anyone tried to tell her that she wasn’t a true priestess after this, he’d… [i]…Wait…[/i] Vitus knew the spell he’d cast. It was not a minor spell in the slightest, and with Melchiresa banished, her power destroyed, he should have been weakened massively, barely able to stand up. So…why did he still feel like his power was stronger than it had ever been? [b][u][center]The End[/center][/u][/b]