[b][u][center]The Distractions of Affection
Part 2
for a-lycotonum
by Draconicon[/center][/u][/b]








Even as Lord Manea tried to demand an explanation to what was going on, the impending transformation gave the answer for him. The elf lord stuttered and stammered, trying to get past his indignation and his fear alike, while Sivar just bit down on the chuckles that were threatening to spill madly from his lips. All that he cared about was the revenge that this offered, and the transformation was already hitting the brat hard. 

The fact that her racist diatribe had already stopped was a testament in and of itself to the power of the transformation. Her formerly pale face had already turned bright red with a deep blush, and sweat stained her brow. Sivar smirked as his cock jumped between his legs, rising further and further from his sheath now that there was no reason to hold back. He didn't reach for it yet, though. That would be what he had the other woman do, once she'd transformed. 

That was the plan, after all. He would touch someone, and they would transform. No were-beast could pass things on with touch alone, so there was no proof that he had ever actually committed a crime. The demon that had been bound to him provided him with the power to convert others without having to do such rough, damaging things, though there were times that he missed doing it. However, it meant that his sister and his master could do [i]their[/i] thing, taking advantage of the situation before anyone could look too closely at it. 

"What - what have you done to my daughter?!" Lord Manea finally managed to say. 

"We? We have done nothing," Mika said. "It seems that you have been hiding things from us, Lord Manea."

"Me?! You think that I -"

"If you did not know that your daughter was a were-rat, then you have been terribly lax in your parental duties. What creatures has she seen, I wonder? What other responsibilities have slipped your notice?"

It was the same sort of trick that they played time and time again on street thugs and little merchants alike. They were eager to find some way to slip the blame on someone else, and once they realized that they couldn't touch the were-rat that they knew was responsible but they couldn't prove it, they were willing to put the blame on the victim, instead. After all, all the conventional 'evidence' pointed to them as being the guilty one. Why not take advantage of that?

Tabitha was shivering, the sweat and the chill and the heat combining to rob her of her capability of speech. The red-faced knife-ear was already staring down, and Sivar smiled as he thrust his hips forward, elegantly swinging his balls back and forth for her to see. Her nipples popped slightly through her dress, and she whimpered, one soft hand slowly reaching out. 

It wouldn't take long for the next phase of the transformation to hit. As a matter of fact, he could feel the incubus bound to him counting it down. 

[i]Five, four, three, two -[/i]

"NNGH!"

As Tabitha arched her back, the curse struck. Her hips, her ass, her breasts, even her feet started to swell, growing outwards and threatening the bonds of her clothing. Her fingers curled into tight fists as she gasped for breath, her face twisted and tight from the transformation. Sivar knew that it hit some harder than others, but this one shouldn't be too difficult. The hornier one was when they went into it, the easier the body accepted it, and this little brat was very horny indeed with the touch of the incubus. 

There was a straining, stretching, near-tearing sound as the silk that the little brat was wrapped in started to give. Her hips flared out slowly, filling in, getting thicker and wider, more like a farm-wife's hips than some slender elf maiden's. She looked like she had already birthed at least three children, if not more, and she stumbled, almost falling over from the new heft that her hips had. 

As Tabitha turned, the long-haired girl looking down her sides, he had the perfect view of her ass filling in, getting thicker, pushing out and back more than it had previously. He licked his lips as he imagined just how big it was going to get before they were done, and he growled deep in his throat. 

"This - this isn't my daughter!" Lord Manea insisted. 

"Then why did you call her by your daughter's name?" Mika asked. "Do you claim that you introduced an imposter to us knowingly?"

"I - no, but - this isn't me committing fraud!"

"It certainly appears you are. Either you have been keeping the state of your daughter a secret, or you have been representing yourself as far more capable than you actually are. Can the Lord Brundir actually trust you to be intelligent enough to deliver on the terms of your loan if you haven't the wits to keep your own daughter in line?"

Sivar shook his head. His sister had always been good at twisting the words of others to her benefit, and she had only gained greater proficiency in the skill since becoming that aasimar's creature. He just wished that she didn't turn into such a lick-boot whenever Lord Purple, as he'd come to think of the aasimar in their off-time, was around. There was something missing from her when she was like that. 

He turned back to the elf as she finally reached the first stage of clothes-ripping. It was always his favorite part when the inner rat started coming out; men ripped through the crotch of their pants as their balls surged larger, unable to control that need, that wanton lust that came out when they were given over to the beast within. Some gained greater cocks, too, but that was rarer, particularly when one was fucked into it rather than born into it. He'd been lucky to get it himself, back when he'd first turned. 

But with females...

"Ah...ah...AH!"

Tabitha fell to her hands and knees as her breasts ripped through her top, the small, barely-there things of an elf-maid swelling and getting bigger, bigger, and bigger still. Sivar chuckled as he felt his cock throb, bouncing up, slapping his stomach briefly as the elf swelled from a small A to a high C, and kept growing, her breasts falling beneath her almost like pale udders, the nipples getting stiffer and darker. That soft blush of pink on her white skin was soon stained, looking brown and thick rather than the modest little things that they had been. 

Nobody else spoke, not even the lord, as the elf continued to change. Her ass swelled, ripping right down the center of the back of her dress. Pale cheeks popped out, jiggling and wiggling like something out of the plains of the far, barbaric reaches of the world. She thrust her ass back, almost like she was begging to be bred right then and there, and perhaps some part of her was. She certainly was more than willing to expose herself. 

And then - 

Crack. 

Pop. 

Snap. 

"Hehehehe..."

Sivar couldn't help but laugh as her feet ripped through her shoes. While he loved the sight of her breasts and her ass, that satisfied for a different reason. Elves, humans, whoever happened to have wealth and power, they always forgot about those beneath them. They always distanced themselves. When they grew, when they ripped through their clothes, when they lost that simple little protection against the cobblestone streets and the dirty earth, he knew that they would be forced to remember those that they had stabbed in the back, those that they had climbed over to get where they were. That...that was the start of her new, dirty, low life. 

Tabitha lifted her head as the fur started growing out of the back of her neck, spreading down her face, her exposed breasts, and beneath her dress. She would be fully rat soon enough, the dark brown making it clear that she was nothing more than a sewer-scurrier, something that kept out of sight, something that was [i]low[/i] and [i]dirty.[/i] Her nostrils flared, and he could tell the moment that she picked up his scent, because hers grow just as strong in the same moment. 

"Ah...mmph...please..."

"You want it? You take it."

"Tabitha!" Lord Manea shouted. "Get away from him!"

"So, it is Tabitha, then?" Mika said. 

"I didn't - I mean -"

"You don't seem to be serious about much, Lord Manea."

"I - you - this is too much. You - she can't - Tabitha!"

The transforming young woman ignored her father as she crawled towards Sivar, and the were-rat smiled with his arms crossed over his chest and his hips thrust forward. The transformation was proceeding apace, covering her back with fur as the dress ripped all around her. She was getting thicker all over the place, but in an appealing enough way, if one liked the rougher sort of thing. Her hands cracked along the back and wrists, the fingers becoming harder, longer, more gnarled despite their lean and narrow look. Her nails lengthened, becoming claws that would soon be dirty rather than so pristine. 

She paused, panting, her face twisting and cracking as the start of her muzzle came in, her ears twisting around. She groaned, the sound a mix of pain and need as her pleasure drooled down her thighs. The room stank despite the opening to the skies above, the smell of hot, thick rat musk getting stronger and stronger as her scent grew from her exposure to him, and his grew stronger as she showed her need. 

Her hands hesitated, so close to his cock and balls, and he knew that it wasn't fear that held her back. No, no, it was the growth of her tail. 

She gasped, whimpering, shivering. The last of her dress fell in fragments around her, leaving her exposed, the brown fur running from her head to her wrists, and down to her ankles. Her hands and feet remained bare, the bottoms of her feet turning a soft pink as they grew longer, proper were-rat feet, too large to fit in any shoes from now on. He flexed his cock, letting it flip up, then fall down on her hand, staining her fingers with his seed. 

"Tell us true, Lord Manea. Is that your daughter?" Mika asked. 

"I...I..."

"Yes, or no?"

"It was."

"Then there is evidence that she is corrupted."

"You can't tell anyone. This - this cannot leave this room."

"Then you know the cost."

"Must I bribe the justices of Absalom, now?! Or must I merely bribe this aasimar?"

"You know the cost. He [i]is[/i] Absalom. To be safe here, you must treat with him."

"..."

"Your reputation rests on your decision, Lord Manea."

His sister had the elf lord in the palm of her hand, and he had Tabitha locked down. Her muzzle cracked as it finally grew in, her eyes hazy and needful as she stared at his cock. Her tail went 'pop' as it finally reached its full size, and she finally reached the end of her transformation. From a slender elf-maiden, a rat breeder had been born, thick in the hips and rounded in the ass, looking like something that was better suited to be a brood mare for the beasts than to be the mate of any civilized creature in the world. 

He thought it was an improvement, quite frankly. 

She finally leaned in, resting her nose against his sac, and she breathed in. She had a spasm of pleasure, and she lifted her head to his cock. Without hesitation, she rammed her lips down to the base, sucking him as hard and needily as any female in heat would have bred herself against her chosen male. 

He didn't have to do anything. All he had to do was stand there and let her debase herself, let her suck and bob and feast on his cock. And as she worked, he smirked at Lord Manea and the fury and humiliation writ large on his face. 

This was why he tolerated Brundir as a master. 

[i]This[/i] was why the scraping and bowing was worth it. 

Because, at the end of the day, it meant that he had the power to show those that would have looked down on him all his life that they weren't safe. They didn't have so much power that they could get away with all this shit. And he was on the winning side, now, and they couldn't do a damn thing about it. 

He didn't even bother resting his hand on the bitch's head as she bobbed it up and down, slobbering all over his cock, taking in the drippings of seed and slime that were constantly oozing from the head. The more that she consumed, the closer she came to becoming his creature. He had already sired her, but this would cement it, leaving her as nothing more than his creature that would always crave him. He chuckled as she reached the base of his cock, sucking right around the end of it, nearly kissing his balls in the process. 

"She's a needy thing, isn't she?"

"Shut up," the elf lord whispered. 

"Nah. You're gonna have to deal with it."

"Shut up!"

"You want me to shut up? Then make me."

"..."

"See, your girl's a nasty little bitch, now. She's a little slut, but she's still got that little bit of a brain buried underneath all those nasty rat urges that you hate so much. If she's such a superior elf, then she can fight it off. She can be more than just a brain-dead finger-slut that wants nothing more than to sit back and get off all day long. Hell, if she's got even half of that superiority that you two wouldn't shut up about, she'll be almost normal when she pulls her bitch-lips off my dick.

"But judging by how scared you are...it's all bullshit. You two ain't any better than me and Mika, and if you think that you're ever going to get her back...you're fucking wrong."

He groaned as the little slut ignored everything that came out of his mouth, more focused on sucking him dry. She had one hand under his balls, the other barely keeping her upright as she slobbered on his shaft, her breasts slapping against each other just hard enough for them to hear over the rest of the stuff going on. She bobbed to the base again, his cock deep in her throat as she swallowed hard, clearly trying to get him to blow his load as fast as possible. 

He could have held out. He chose not to. 

Groaning, Sivar held himself still as he came, cumming deep inside of her. Each shot of his seed was something that he focused on, counting them as they spurted free of his balls. One, two, three, four, five, six shots that went right down her throat, and a seventh that oozed out over her tongue. 

The were-rat was kind. He didn't smear her face. 

Pulling out, he slapped his cock across her muzzle, and she stared up at him dumbly, completely cock-drunk. Instead of going back to sucking him, she rolled onto her back. Spreading her legs and putting her feet in the air, she started fingering herself, stupidly showing off, her mouth hanging open and drool running down over her bare breasts. His seed oozed from the corner of her mouth with it, and she giggled like a stupid, sex-obsessed bimbo. 

Lord Manea had turned away by the time that he looked up, but he had already handed something to Mika. His sister nodded, giving the lord a pat on the arm before making her way to him. 

"Let's go. We've got what we need."

"Pathetic."

"Just...come on."

He fell in step behind her, feeling the consuming sensation of pleasure that always came after a proper bit of revenge. His orgasm was almost incidental to the whole situation; it was just the pleasure of taking someone else and putting them in their place that always felt better. He looked over his shoulder, watching as the former elf curled her toes in pleasure, squirting over the ground. 

If she ever recovered enough to remember how to write her own name, he'd be surprised. He wondered if Manea would keep her or find some little hole to hide her in. Either way, Brundir would have leverage for the rest of the young lady's life. And probably for all of the lord's, too. 

"Heh. That was good," he muttered as they left the great tree. 

"You always take it too far," his sister muttered. 

"Oh, spare me."

"I'm serious. We can't always go that far."

"Heh. You seriously think that he'll run his mouth about this?"

"Him? No. But someone might."

"Like who?"

"The master."

"...Oh, ho ho. Are you thinking -"

"No. But he's not the only one like that in the world. Why do you think the master's having us do this?" she asked with a soft hiss. "There's people that will fight him. Some of them won't just bow to humiliation. We have to be smarter, less brute-force about it. Why do you think he doesn't send you anywhere alone?"

[i]Heh, oh, if only you knew.[/i]

Now that he thought about it, though, Sivar realized that the only times that he had been sent off on a solo assignment had been when the mission was explicitly something that was meant to eliminate whoever he was going after. It was never blackmail, never a threat. It was an assassination, as thorough and complete as an actual kill. They might live through it, but it was never the same person that came out the other side when he was the one working them over. 

He shrugged. There would always be a need for a breaker. There wasn't always a need for a talker. 

#

Lord Gralon Brundir was in the middle of meditating when the servants came to him. A simple raised hand stilled the voices of the ventral planes, keeping them from hearing that which they should not. 

"The Halstad twins have returned, Lord Brundir."

"Show them to the second sitting room," he said. "I will be there shortly."

"Yes, Master."

The voice of the servant and their footsteps faded, and the aasimar turned back to the portal. The lesser devils that glared out at him from the edge of the person-sized portal glared at him, but their gazes didn't matter. Not compared to that of the greater figure in the center, resplendent on his throne of power with shimmering gold-red draped across his body. 

The greater Devil - and there was no way to say that word without capitalizing that letter - leaned back, his head tilted ever so slightly to one side in the way of a monarch questioning a noble beneath them. It was as close to an insult as ever was given between Gralon and the great Dispater, and he had to keep his head on his shoulders to avoid reacting as the Devil doubtlessly invited him to.  

"My apologies. Our meeting will need to be cut short."

"[b]I expect a greater focus on our plans.[/b]"

"This is an advancement of it. Should this plan come to fruition, then you and yours may soon wander my estate."

It was an offer that was risky but potentially profitable. To have a lord of the lower planes walking his estates meant that he risked having someone call out what he was doing before he was ready, though that moment was rapidly coming closer the more that he accomplished. His many agents were on the verge of seizing control of the various temples of Absalom, and he controlled more than half the courts as it stood. The great powers of noble houses that were based here were already leaning into his influence, and the fighters and old heroes that had once been great threats and protectors were slowly succumbing to the weakening powers of age and decrepity. It would not be hard to deal with them, not when he had the aid of many new heroes to call upon. 

And if he had Dispater on his estate, then the greater influence of the Devil would be easier to ask for, and the other would be greatly in his debt. He would no longer have to spend resources to establish these connections that were so often interrupted, and the servants of his estate - the ones that were less useful, those that had not earned a reprieve - would be replaced by those that were more powerful, more suitable. 

Operating from the shadows had its place, but it was not something that he enjoyed in the grand scheme of things. He would have his goals accomplished, and sooner than later. 

"[b]See to it that you follow through with your promises, Lord Brundir,[/b]" Dispater said in that soft, yet smothering voice that he always had. "[b]We are keen to see your plan come to fruition, as ever. Before you leave. What of your courtship with this...Vitus? Does he have a family? A surname?[/b]"

"Leontina."

"[b]Ah. Yes. I had wondered if that tree had borne fruit.[/b]" The all-too-human Devil smiled. "[b]Go. We will talk of this more when you are free.[/b]"

Whatever questions he had on the matter had to be pushed down. He would ask them the next time that they talked. 

Turning from the closing portal, he left his private ritual room, making his way back up the stairs to his manor proper. The servants - those that would be dismissed or sacrificed when the offer was made good to Dispater - were not allowed down here. Only those that had served him so long that their loyalty was no longer in doubt, or their minds so far from their wills, were allowed to set foot on these steps. Each long slab of stone glowed with wards and runes and spells that would obliterate any other from existence if they stepped down here, store away their essence for a future simulacrum, and then reset to do it again. 

He had invested a great deal in such security. He had no intention of letting anyone else escape. 

Not that it would have triggered for Vitus the last time. The young man had been one of those that Gralon had thought he could trust. A pity that he had been wrong. 

It didn't take long to reach the second sitting room, and both twins were standing when he arrived. Despite the various lounge chairs and the many paintings and rows of books waiting to entertain guests, they had remained standing, waiting for him. Mika was all but trembling as he stepped into the room, the justice bowing her head and setting her various adornments to jangling. 

"I assume that you had a successful negotiation?" Gralon asked as he sat down. 

"Yes, Master. Most successful."

"And Sivar?" he asked, nodding at the were-rat, noting that he was no longer 'presenting'. 

"He accomplished his mission. We have blackmail on Lord Manea for the rest of his life, more than likely, Master. We did well. We did."

The desperation in Mika's voice was almost palpable, and why not? She had been desperate for his attention for several days now, ever since he'd cut her off from his touch for being too needy for his taste. The addiction, desperation, and hunger that she had for him had been a symptom in his subordinates that he had been trying to cut down on for many iterations of the same treatment that they had gone through. Vitus had been the first that had come close to a proper balance of submission and independence, but even there, something had gone wrong. 

For the moment, someone being too needy and dependent was better than them being too independent and less annoying. He could take it for a short time longer. 

"You have done well," he said. 

Mika's face lit up with such a glow that she almost looked as if she had reached some sort of orgasm, and perhaps she had. The woman was dealing with a great deal more enchantment and feedback than most of his 'free' agents, considering the strict tasks that he had to keep her focused on. Yet, even Sivar had a portion of that, and the were-rat was studiously not looking at him. Very tellingly so, as a matter of fact. 

The aasimar extended one leg, the hoof at the end already shined but certainly capable of being better. The justice of the two siblings looked down, standing up a bit straighter, her hand gripping the back of a nearby chair as if to restrain herself. 

Gralon smiled. 

"Come. Shine it."

She fell to her hands and knees almost desperately, leaning in to kiss his hoof and licking it with abandon. She didn't care that he had walked here with nothing to cover it, nor did she show any distaste for the order. She was too keen to obey and enjoy the attention that it would get her. 

Her brother, however...

Gralon watched Sivar out of the corner of his eye, pretending to keep his attention on Mika while giving the were-rat an examination. For all that Sivar had been affected by the praise, it clearly did less for him than it did for his sister. Mika had always been overly dependent, but the were-rat - whether due to the lycanthropy or something else - maintained a sense of core selfishness that refused to be shifted. Even now, when he should have been ecstatic to get some reward or another, he was standing off to the side, looking out the window and shaking his head. 

"Are you not eager for your own reward, Sivar?" he asked. 

"I have one. It's waiting back at the Manea estate."

"The girl is off-limits now."

"Then let me go back to one of my bitches in the city."

Gralon narrowed his eyes. This was a perfect example of the problems of letting an agent have too much free will. They started to think that they had the right to go off and do what they wanted rather than what they were told. They thought that they were allowed to be completely disrespectful to the one that rescued them from prison, and had put them into a place of power. They thought that they didn't owe their rescuer, their benefactor, anything beyond the most lip-service submission. 

The aasimar disagreed with that sort of treatment. As Mika worked her way up from his hooves to his hairy calves, licking her way gradually towards his crotch, Gralon reached out with one hand. His fingers flickered with a purple fire that was laced with a hellish red, and he called to the demon within the were-rat. 

Sivar stiffened almost immediately, his breath catching as he clearly gritted his teeth. The aasimar twisted at the bond between them, calling on the contract with the incubus within the rat. He pushed, requiring arousal of the demon, and the were-rat huffed and puffed, shivering, his cock coming out of his sheath once more and oozing over the floor. As Sivar leaned against the window, the rat's hips twitched, bringing his cock into contact with the glass. 

"You will remember what you are, Sivar."

"Nnngh...fuck you..."

"No. You will, however, remember what you are. Stand back."

The last was said to Mika, and the human stepped away from the chair. Gralon stood up, pulling his robe off and casting it aside before sitting down again, though this time closer to the edge of the chair. His heavy sac fell beneath the edge of it, the scent of a warm bull filling the room. His own sheath, tipped with the purple-red of his shaft, began to expand, and Mika licked her lips as she looked at it. Sivar tried not to, but a further command to the incubus within him forced the were-rat to turn and face him. Gralon shook his head. 

"There are tasks that you have been given. Rewards that you have been allowed. Powers that you have been granted. These were not because you were particularly efficient at them, or particularly talented. They were given because you were [i]willing.[/i] All of those remain yours only so long as you continue to show willingness to me...and that includes willingness to [i]listen.[/i]"

"Ha...ha...listen to what...pompous grandstanding?"

"To commands from the one that holds your leash."

"You're not...my type..."

"..." 

He didn't clench his fist, nor did he show rage. What he did was command the demon to do what it did best, and as the incubus's libido surged through Sivar, driving the were-rat to his knees, Gralon got comfortable. A gesture at Mika had her out of her clothes almost instantly, and she mounted his lap, turning to face towards her brother as she spread her cheeks, offering her ass to him. 

He did not waste his seed on those that were too pathetic to be worth it. The idea of inseminating her was not something that he wished to consider, nor did he want to go through the effort of pulling out or using countermeasures, magical or otherwise. Anal was a fine compromise. 

As she slid down his shaft, gasping as the bestial thing slowly filled her up from behind, he kept forcing Sivar's demon to flood him with the raw need required to keep him on his knees, to keep his shaft hard, to keep him from thinking of anything but rutting need. He took it further and further, blasting his servant with raw lust that would have driven an imp to utter mental oblivion, forcing him to the point of finally grasping his cock and pulling at it. 

"Your pleasure is what I say it is," Gralon said, even as Mika mindlessly rode his cock. He knew that the justice was no longer listening; once she received what she wanted, her mind all but turned off for the next few hours. "If I say that your pleasure is your sister's bliss at riding me, then that is all that you will enjoy. If I say that you will fall to your knees and lick my hooves clean, then that will be your fantasy. If I demand that you suck on my ass, licking away at my hole, until I cum on [i]your[/i] converted sluts...then that will be your fondest desire. 

"You are mine, Sivar. You are no longer free. And if you cannot remember that, you will force me to teach you the lesson again, and again, and again, until it is embedded so deeply that you can do nothing but what I directly order."

Much as he didn't want to take it that far, he knew that there was little choice in the matter. He [i]needed[/i] Sivar to be an obedient servant. If the rat was determined to keep fighting him, he risked sinking not only their current plans, but everything that Gralon had built up since the start of his retirement. He [i]needed[/i] loyalty, and if he couldn't have skilled loyalty, he would have it unskilled. 

Despite it all, Sivar managed a hint of hate through the humiliation that he suffered. It was a testament to the were-rat's own willpower that he was able to stay upright even now, even though he was likely being driven to the ends of his endurance to do so. If he could merely be broken - 

[i]Feel no sympathy. Feel no attachment. You will not make the same mistake again.[/i]

Vitus would be broken, eventually. Either Neena was right about finding him, or he was somewhere else where any number of other agents would encounter him. One way or another, they [i]would[/i] solve this, and when they did...oh, when they did...

He groaned as Mika slapped her ass down against his cock, the human woman cumming already. She had always been a sensitive one, but these days, she was all but committed to having a hair trigger with him. Perhaps that was the case with all bulls, though; perhaps he should make her go to the stables one evening and prove whether that was the case. 

Shaking his head, he rested his hands on her hips. She needed encouragement to keep moving, and he gave it to her, all while watching Sivar. The were-rat continued to stroke himself, helpless to stop, and he had even reached around to grope his own ass. However, even as he panted, even as he blushed, even as he dripped for all that he was worth, he never stopped glaring at the aasimar. 

Good. There was a will there. It just needed direction. Sooner or later, the hate would break, and obedience would begin. 

So Gralon promised himself.










[b][u][center]The End[/center][/u][/b]

Summary: The transformation occurs, and the racist elf becomes a dumb rat. Gralon rewards his subordinates. 

Tags: M/F, M/M/F, Humiliation, Transformation, Rat, Were-Rat, Human, Elf, Aasimar, Series, Cum, Orgasm, Oral, Slut, Brain Drain, Fantasy, Magic, Anal, Forced Lust, Masturbation,