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The Quest’s Climax By Limewah Subscriber Reward for Flarfenarfle 18+

The full moon shone down through the massive hole in the top of the temple - the one Clayton had created during his meteoric entrance.

The moonlight made the snow leopard’s violet eyes glisten and shine. Everything about Clayton’s most evil, wicked form radiated terror and power. He’d left a trail of broken, drained bodies in his wake. They’d be cleaning the remnants of his rampage through Citrine the witch-cat’s manor (not to mention the greater Forencia area) for weeks on end.

It was a little bit unsatisfying, of course… but that was the purpose of this particular journey.

The priestess he’d come to see kept her guard up, the arctic fox’s face implacable behind a white, crimson-flecked fox mask. The wind was blowing Delilah’s pink robes, but she showed no signs of shivering, even though her chest was partially bared.

“To what do I owe the honour of having you grace me with your presence?” she said, with equal parts deference and sarcastic defiance.

“I’m not here to cause much trouble,” Clayton said with a devil-may-care shrug. His rosette-speckled tail slowly swung back and forth - a sign of his own readiness to strike. “As much as it pains me to say it… I need your help.”

“Go on.” there was something in Delilah’s eyes that suggested she knew where this was going. But Clayton continued.

“You see… for the last year, I’ve had a very… unpleasant affliction. As has every other aspect of myself. An inability to cum. Not to mention, no memory of the source of this curse.”

He studied Delilah’s face. She was doing a good job hiding her knowledge. But not good enough.

“Now, for me, this has been a minor annoyance. Being aroused all the time doesn’t debilitate me. Though it’s been a while since I’ve impregnated someone with my essence, and I could use a few more spare vessels for my soul.

“The others, though… they’re pathetic messes. Every other Clay has thrown himself at anyone who’ll so much as breathe warmly in his direction, and none of them have been able to satisfy him. He’s going to keep trying, even though it’s not going to change the outcome.

“Every time I regain control, I’ve spent most of my time researching. Figuring out who the other ‘Me’s have crossed paths with, what they did to him. Narrowing things down, as it were. Trying to figure out who might have put this curse upon him, and why.”

Delilah’s right foot slowly slid backwards and her left hand clenched. She was bristling, braced to defend against an assault, physical or magical.. Clayton noticed this, and grinned like a shark smelling blood in the water.

“I think you and I both know the answer to who. The question that remains, though… is why.”

He let the statement hang in the air. Delilah remained still.

“Well?” Clayton opened his arms wide, his paw-pads beginning to ooze wisps of milky smoke. He wasn’t above disintegrating her, though that would defeat the purpose and ensure the curse was locked in. “Care to enlighten me? Or will I have to pull it out of your mind?”

Clayton caught Delilah’s shoulders slumping slightly. She’d been debating with herself what to do this whole time, and she’d finally figured out an answer.

“I can explain,” She said. “But perhaps it would be better if I show it to you. If you trust me enough to let you into your mind.”

The leopard chuckle-purred darkly. It wasn’t a question of trust. If she tried anything, it would spell her end.

“Go on. I’m dying to find out.”

Delilah gestured to the centre of the temple-space, where a wicker mat was laid out. The cone of moonlight from the hole framed it perfectly.

“Ah, lovely.” Clayton approached it, brushing some rubble out of the way with his paw, before sitting criss-crossed on the floor. He looked up at Delilah, expectantly. He very pointedly stared at her chest, rather than her masked face. He wanted her to know that was where he was looking.

She didn’t take the bait or react. She slowly stepped behind him.

Clayton knew he didn’t need to remind her of the risk she was taking.

“Breathe, and clear your mind,” she commanded.

“Careful about the tone you take with me, darling.” Clayton chuckled.

Her paws rested on his temples, and he complied, humming contentedly to himself as he waited for the vision to begin.

“Are you going to force me to meditate?” Clayton said. “Or are we going to-“

He felt something push against the back of his head. The warm, soft embrace of fur-covered breasts squishing and spreading out to either side of his face…

And with it, he could feel a third round thing pushing into the back of his head - this one firmer, thicker, roiling with magical energy.

Clayton wasn’t worried. She couldn’t hurt him in any meaningful way. Whatever that third orb was, it burst, and the magic contained inside it sunk into his skin and headed straight for his mind.

He felt a sudden vertigo, a shifting of his organs and a pulling sensation, as he was tugged back in time, lost in a vividly intense memory.

He was locked into the vision, a passenger in his own body. Judging from the orange blur beneath his vision, he was in his Braixen form. His default form. Not to mention the stupidest.

Delilah was directly in front of him. On top of him, in fact. Her robes had been shrugged off, and her breasts bounced hypnotically before the horny fox’s right. She was grinding her hips against his crotch, hot breath escaping from beneath her mask as she bounced on him, and his claws were gripping her soft, warm thighs.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, yes, I’m so fucking close…!” the Braixen groaned.

“Mmmnh… you’d like to finish, wouldn’t you?” Delilah moaned, her claws digging into his shoulders.

“I’m so fucking close, don’t let me finish…!” Clay whined. “I wanna stay hard, I wanna satisfy you…”

“You’ve done a marvellous j-job,” Delilah groaned, glowing with post-climax bliss. “I’ve had plenty…”

“But it’ll be hotter if I can’t cum, please, do something…!”

“F-fine… you asked for it…”

Delilah let go of Clay’s shoulders and reared back. Her fingers interweaved and locked together, the index fingers pointed straight upwards as she began to chant. Her voice slipped to the back of her throat, her tone turning guttural and almost nasal as she barked and droned strange mantras that Clay could not understand. Her circular breathing kept the chant going endlessly, no apparent pauses for breath.

Two pinpricks of light appeared in the dark depths of the fox-mask’s eyeholes. Her palms pulled away, her fingers still latticed together, and she pushed downwards with a long, sharp exhale. There was no flash of light, no thunderclap. The mask’s eye’s went dark once again.

“Now. That should hold for as long as is necessary.” she sighed and rolled her head back, taking hold of her breasts and murmuring with pleasure. “Just let me know when you’ve had enough.”

“Yes, oh, fuck, yes…!” Clay went right back to thrusting and bucking. In his ‘audience’ position, Clayton could feel the saliva draping over his face. He could also feel his own cock pulsing, still achingly close to the edge.

“As entertaining as this is,” Clayton growled, “Do you have anything else to show me?”

“I do.”

The vision jumped forward. Delilah was wrapped in a blanked, sighing comfortably, just teetering on the edge of sleep. Her mask was just a little bit lopsided. She reached up and guided it so it was just-so again.

“Now…” she said. “Just a moment’s nap, and then I can see about removing that curse.”

Clay was staring down at his still twitching dick, huffing and growling.

“No, I’ve got a better idea…” he said. “Much better idea…”

“I don’t have anything left in me,” Delilah sighed, sitting up to look at him. “It’ll have to wait.”

“No, I got this one,” Clay said. He brought his hands in front of his face and began to chant in his own arcane language. Delilah briefly flinched, concerned by the sudden roil of power weaving between his fingertips.

He pressed his hands against his head as he completed the incantation, and-

Clayton felt dislocated all of a sudden. Like he’d left Clay’s head and was now floating through the air. As his vision turned down towards the floor and continued on, he saw Clay upside down - or rather, Clayton was the one upside down, his consciousness and memory roiling inside a purple bubble.

“A memory ball…?” Delilah in the past said, slowly stroking her fingers over the bubble. “Just what is this supposed to be for?”

“Huh…?” Clay was shaking his head, looking confused. “What the… where am I?”

He looked down at his cock, and it twitched and spurted a surprisingly long gout of pre-cum. His face turned bright red as he stared at Delilah.

“Oh, I g-gotta go!”

“Clay, wait!” Delilah reached out for him, but it was too late. Clay had always been very good at panic-casting teleportation spells on a moment’s notice.

“Ah. That’s going to be a problem…” Delilah sighed, rolling the orb in her hand. “I’ll keep this safe for now.”

To Clayton’s slight delight, the final image he saw was of this bubble - and his vision - descending between her breasts as it was absorbed into her body.

The vision ended, and Clayton cackled with laughter.

“I’m glad you find this amusing,” Delilah said, with some degree of sarcasm.

“Oh, don’t mind me!” Clayton wheezed as he doubled forward a bit. “This is just… so typical of his behaviour. “He always does what makes him feel the horniest, damn the consequences. And what consequences, too…!

“Anyway. So, this curse. Let’s get it lifted, shall we?”

Delilah had moved back. “Not yet.”

“Oh?” Clayton slowly spun around, spreading his legs wide and sliding a hand down towards his hard cock. “I don’t think you’re in a position to bargain with me. You know I could break your mind just like that…”

“I’m aware,” Delilah said. “I would rather bargain with your fox self. The one who got you into this mess in the first place.”

“Ah… so we are on the same page!” Clayton clapped his hands together. “De_light_ful, Delilah. Well then. Here’s my offer. I’ll fuck you silly until the transformation happens, and my fox-self is back. Then, you can lift the curse, make him cum… and do whatever you want to him, for however long you want. A day? Two days?”

Delilah paused slightly. She was weighing things up, but she was almost certainly won over. Was she weighing up a counteroffer?

Clayton wondered if she would indulge herself.

“Two months,” she said.

“Hah!” Clayton laughed. “That’s what I hoped you’d say! It’s a deal.”

”Hold a moment. If you re-awaken, what then? You won’t be bound to my spell. What would stop you from turning on me?”

”My word, for one thing. I promise I’ll stay dormant until those two months are up.”

Clayton wasn’t lying at that moment. But he knew he might end up changing his mind later on.

He offered his fuzzy paw to Delilah for a handshake.

Her grip was surprisingly firm. Supernaturally so, in fact. It made Clayton wince with shock. Her eyes flashed again - needle-thin beams of light shot from the darkness of the mask, and directly into Clayton’s corneas. The snow leopard yelped once, sharply.

His cock throbbed. Pre-cum had stained a significant portion of his trousers. So he ripped them free, and tore away the rest of his clothes for good measure. His cock pulsed and gleamed in the moonlight, so engorged with blood it might as well have been a shade of red.

“It’s going to take a little while for the spell to break,” Delilah said. “I’ve also slipped in a second curse - his servitude will begin the moment he cums.”

Delilah was staring at Clayton’s dick. He made it twitch, the head bouncing up into the air before coming back down to sway and dangle. He caught her head following it.

“Well, while we build up to that, I ought to ravish you as agreed upon, little fox.” He waved his hips back and forth, swinging his cock like a mesmerising pendulum. “Shall we?”

Clayton tried to picture the lust on the pretty face beneath that mask. He imagined Delilah blushing. Licking her lips. Holding in hot breath.

She lunged at him and pushed him onto his back. The locked-away past and the delicious present became one.

Clayton grabbed her by the back of the neck and pulled her in, licking along the mask and tasting its bitter lacquer.

“It’s a shame you have to hide your lips beneath that mask,” the leopard growled as he helped the fox position her sex above his tool. “I bet you taste delicious.”

“Plenty other places to taste,” she shot back, before impaling herself on him.

Her heat engulfed him. He lolled his head back and groaned with ecstatic satisfaction. She felt his own heat rising, his innate magic circulating with his blood to banish the night chill.

“Ohhhh, fuck, I forgot how good your pussy feels,” he growled, before attacking the side of her neck with his lips.

Delilah tried to let the sleazy comment slide. She closed her eyes, laid back, and pushed back. It was a smooth, gliding fit. The snow leopard’s dick size was just right for her - firm and girthy, but easy to fit and clench around.

(His cock was a little bit smaller than his other forms’, though she knew better than to tell him that.)

She was wetter than she realised, too. Each warmth-inducing thrust drew more attention to how lonely she’d been, how much she’d craved this warmth, how there’d been a part of her that was thrilled at the prospect of lying with the feline again, if only briefly.

Clayton growl-purred into Delilah’s ear, his bristly tongue dragging along the inside as if he was about to shove his tongue into her head. Her toes curled as her feet raised higher.

“Imagine if I told you I loved you right now,” Clayton growled, his pistoning speed growing faster and making her thighs ripple more and more. “Would you believe me?”

“Abs…olutely not…!” Delilah’s claws slipped through Clayton’s thick pelt and scratched at his back, and he growled with response.

“Hnnnh, I think it’s coming,” Clayton growled. “Far sooner than expected…”

“That’s fine, we can hold you on the edge for a bit…”

“I’m not talking about that, I’m t-!”

Vapour and smoke engulfed Delilah. The shift was too instantaneous for her to process - there was suddenly a good deal less weight on her body, and her snatch felt tighter, smaller… or what was inside was bigger.

“Uhhn, wha…?” Clay, now back to his default Braixen self, stared down at Delilah with watery-eyed confusion. The orange and white fox couldn’t see her flushed face behind the mask, but he did see the hot breath steaming from beneath it.

“Delilah…?” Clay grinned lopsidedly, sheepishly. He was confused. “Hi… uhm…”

“No talking.” Delilah grabbed him by the ass cheeks and pushed him down into her slit.

“Ooohhnn~!” Clay’s hands and feet shivered against the cold temple floor. He was a far more passive lover than his snow leopard form, not to mention disoriented. He didn’t know what to do. But his dick was throbbing, and he felt himself build up to the usual breaking point, the place where he stalled… He burned with embarrassment, confusion, knowing that he wasn’t going to be able to satisfy her…

But then he felt his pleasure build further, pushing past the block, his balls tightening, his cock quivering…

“C-cumming…?!” he gasped, shocked, almost on the verge of laughter and tears.

“That’s right,” Delilah said, squeezing and dimpling his rump and pulling him closer. “Just empty yourself into me. You’ve been so pent up for so long, and the curse has been lifted. So claim your pleasure…”

“Yes, Delilah, oh, fuck, thank you thank you thank you…!”

Clay’s eyes rolled up into his head.

“C-C-cummiiiing… uh?”

Just at the moment before climax, One of Delilah’s claws slid straight up his back and around to the front, and tapped once against his forehead. His cock exploded and spurted, and his mind instantly exploded into -

Blankness.

Quietude.

Stiffness.

Obedience.

He barely had time to enjoy the climax. The second curse took hold in an instant, sneaking in amongst the pleasure and slipping right into his brain. He was gone again.

Delilah felt him suddenly go stiff against her, his spine and legs going suddenly straight. It was like she was being penetrated by a stiff figurine with a sex toy attached.

As he emptied into her, his eyes went wide and blank, and his lips curled into a very familiar, tight smile. He always looked like that when he was entranced. One of his little quirks.

Delilah stroked his face, grinding herself against his shaft and feeling the wetness pooling inside her from those final few spurts.

“Good boy.” One would be able to hear the smile in her voice. Not that Clay was paying attention. He was listening intently, but only in the way an automaton would process an instruction.

“Now, you don’t remember the deal that I made with your other self. But that doesn’t matter. All that matters is you’re mine, now… and I’ve plenty of things for you to do while you’re here under my control.”

“Yes, Mistress.” Clay’s words were clipped, monotone, though his smile never left his face. His cock was going soft inside her.

“Engorged again, please.” She snapped her fingers, and he went stiff in the space of half a second. “Better… mmh. I was going to have you clean up the mess you made, but first, I think you should finish me off. There’s plenty of time for that…”

“Yes, Mistress.” He began to thrust, his body relaxing from its stiff posture to make it a bit easier on him.

The thrusts were even and rather stiff - again, machine-like. It wasn’t as good as the snow leopard’s intense press, but it was better than the Braixen’s passive grinding. She laid back again and sighed contentedly. She’d have to keep a very close, careful eye on him. If he got too horny, he might make another mistake.

Though… if that kept him here a little longer, maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.

Either way… his journey was finally over. He was free of his self-inflicted curse.

Until the next time he got too horny to think clearly.