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A Study of Connections

Part 18

For a-lycotonum

By Draconicon

The tunnels leading toward the Primal Point were as dark as she had dreamed in the vision, but that brought about a sense of peace with it. Hazel honestly wanted to move through them faster, further, quicker than they were, but at the same time, knew that speed would be their downfall rather than their ally now. For the first time, they had space to think, to approach things carefully, and remembering what else had happened in the tunnels in the vision, she was more than happy to take that time to think and work things out properly.

Vakrozad led the way, but she was a half-step behind him, all too aware of her own nudity as she walked. The feeling of cool air on skin and...fur...was just the icing on the cake of her own forced arousal. The curse of the hellhound was spreading further and further along her body, and whether it was feeding on her own feelings or the nearness of the Primal Point, she wasn't entirely sure. All she knew was that it felt...odd. Odd, pleasurable, and worrying all at the same time, mixing together and forming an entirely different emotion that she didn't really know what to call.

She shook her head, feeling her way forward with a hand on the wall. Vakrozad chuckled.

"What?" she muttered. "What's so funny?"

"Just how quickly things change."

"What this time?"

"Well, we were running from the crazy bitch, and now we're running to the crazy bitch."

"We're walking, not running. And we're going to Erastil, not Melchiresa."

"Pretty sure we're going to find both of them, guard dog."

"Maybe. But maybe not."

"They're gonna be there. I bet you money on that."

"Well, I bet you don't have money."

"Hey, you're right. Wanna bet your ass instead?"

She opened her mouth, then closed it. It wasn't the offensive sort of thing that she might have heard from a temple guard, she realized, but rather Vakrozad's way of dealing with his own stress at that moment. She was dragging herself into thought to try not to think too hard about things, and he was joking around to try and make things better, more lighthearted. It was something that she should have picked up on earlier.

Reaching out, she took him by the hand and squeezed. He squeezed back.

"Maybe later," she admitted.

"You serious?"

"I...might be."

"That the hellhound talking?"

"I think it's more the collar."

"...Heh."

"Don't try it."

She was already dealing with enough lust running through her lower body, and her nipples were all but begging for the touch of a lover right then and there. She didn't need someone taking it up a notch and reminding her of everything that she could be feeling right then. It was bad enough that she was so focused on it as it was.

The tunnel seemed to consist of endless darkness, particularly as they left the barrier behind and the campfires beyond it. The tunnel walls were their only guides, and Hazel was all too aware of the possibility of tumbling into a hole that they would never see. She knew that both she and Vakrozad were walking with shuffling feet, feeling their way along to make sure that they didn't go tumbling. More than once she ended up stubbing her toe on a solid rock in the way, but it was worth it to avoid the falls.

Round one corner and then the next they went, and she struggled to remember the different trials. There had been an altar at the end of the vision, yes, but there were things between the start of the tunnels and that. Something about guardians, things to fight, and things to -

She gritted her teeth as she heard a growl further down the tunnel. Vakrozad started to reach for his weapons, but she grabbed him by the wrist.

"Wait..."

"You want to wait for something to rip your throat out?"

"I don't think that this is a fighting challenge."

Melchiresa and Erastil were similar in many respects, but one of the biggest ones was that they only fought and killed prey, things that were weaker than them, rather than things that were stronger. If they started something, if they ran forward as if they were the hunters, then it would be a clash that they would have to follow through on. It might not even be a test of that, as the two different powers preferred other means of working with people. Erastil found diplomacy, kindness and compassion to be key to cooperation between the different 'herds' of people, while Melchiresa...

That Demon Lord...she wants everything to be bound in her pack, but they will accept tribute, tribute of flesh and...pleasure...

There it was. The memory became real as glowing spectral hounds began to emerge from the tunnel ahead. They growled, their hackles raised, their paws padding forward along the rough stone. The feral creatures glared at her and Vakrozad, and she shivered as she imagined what she was going to have to do.

Hazel could feel her body already getting ready for it, her puffy cunt already starting to twitch and clench. Moisture ran along it, over her clit and down the sides to her thighs. Her half-there tail started to rise, as well, showing itself off, and her clawed toes dug into the stone below her.

"Hazel?" Vakrozad whispered. "You gonna..."

"I don't have a choice."

"I think we do."

"It's not a good choice."

"...Probably not, no."

But the fact that he was willing to make it on her behalf was endearing. She gave him a nervous but appreciative smile, then turned back to the hounds. She stepped forward, padding towards them as they padded towards her, then slowly lowered herself to all fours.

They stopped, the growling ceasing. That had to be a good thing, she told herself, making it clear with her movements that she wasn't going to be a threat. She growled a bit under her breath, not sure what she was 'saying' to the hounds, but knowing that it seemed to get their attention.

It didn't take long for the ghostly dogs to prove that they had some solidity. One of them walked around her, nosing against her furred hips, and then further down, along her ass cheeks. She groaned as a cool nose pressed right against her pucker, sniffing it in a way that felt so wrong, and yet, so...good. That nose went further down, further down, and then nudged right between her legs. Stiff, cool, and teasing against her heat.

Hazel spread her legs further, remembering the time in the lodge where she had been fucked by a feral hound, remembering how it had been relentless in a way that most two-leggers could not bring themselves to be. The thought was enough to keep her dripping, her feral cunt begging for the touch of a feral cock.

The hound gave it to her. His forepaws wrapped around her hips as the dog pulled himself up, shaggy, ghostly fur pressing against her back as his cock stabbed between her thighs. It hit her legs once, then further up against the spot just behind her pussy, and then -

"GAH!"

She screamed as she was filled to the brim without mercy, that stiff-tipped prick going so deep so fast that she almost lost all the air she had. The half-elf stumbled, almost falling face-down into the earth, and only saved herself by locking her elbows.

That didn't do much as the other hounds circled her. One of them moved to her face, rearing up and putting his paws on her shoulders. His cock pushed free of his sheath, the soft musk growing stronger as he pressed his cock at her. The more that she felt it rubbing against her face, the warmer it seemed to get.

Are they...

He thrust forward, and she took it in her mouth without thinking. The rough, smooth shape of the shaft was so different, so wrong compared to what she had tasted before, but there was something pure to it, something lustful and nothing more. No love, no pretense, just lust and the desire to fuck.

That was something that she could work with. That was something that she could enjoy.

She was filled from both sides with ease, the ghost hounds fucking her in tandem. One thrust, two, three, their hips moving with blurring speed. The spectral blue light of their bodies lit up the caves, making it possible to see again, and she could just barely see Vakrozad off to the side, jerking off to the action she was going through.

Oddly enough, she didn't feel offended by that. If anything, it almost felt like a compliment, like he found her too sexy to resist. She knew that had to be coming from the collar, yet another side-effect of being bound to him by it, but in that moment, with that stiff canine prick in her pussy and another in her mouth, it was hard for her to think straight. She could just think of the feeling of being used, being fucked, filled, broken in. She groaned as she felt that knot swelling against her pussy, could feel the pre-cum that was flooding into her and then leaking out through the spade between her legs. Her tail wagged in pleasure, and her face felt twisted, needy.

She moaned around the cock in her mouth, swallowing against it like some wanton whore. The pleasure of the hounds filled her in a way that the pleasure of two-leggers never quite had. She moaned, she grunted, she huffed and whimpered as she was fucked from behind, and she never found herself gagging on the stiff prick running down her tongue and into her throat. One thrust after another filled her mouth with the metallic, heavy taste of the dog's pre-cum, but it was no worse than taking a person's.

In, out, in, out, each thrust rocking her in a foul, debauched way between the beasts, and each thrust taking her closer and closer to her own climax. She felt hot, prickly between them, and she huffed again and again against the knot that was battering against her mouth just as much as the one behind her was battering against her pussy. She pushed forward, starting to actively suck on him, feeling something different, something warm.

The one behind her suddenly rammed forward, his knot grinding against her pussy, almost popping in, and then doing it. She gasped as she felt her pussy go almost as wide as a fist, nearly ripping at that moment, but it felt so good through the pain. Or was it that the pain itself felt good? She didn't know, but it was amazing.

He was cumming, filling her to the brim, his balls pulling up against her crotch as much as the rest of his sheath. She could feel his ghostly seed pouring into her guts, spreading through her middle, running into her womb.

And she could feel him pulling back. That thick knot was already dragging hard against her pussy, trying to get itself free, and she gasped around the cock still plundering her throat as he pulled, pulled, pulled. Each tug was another little pain-pleasure spike, another little reminder of what she was going through, but there was something more, something different, something warm.

Something warm.

She gasped as the knot suddenly pulled free, finally realizing what it was. She pulled her head back, staring down, and saw that the spectral blue shaft that she'd been sucking on had gone pink, almost red.

They're coming to life...

The more that they fucked her, the more living the specters became. They were doing something, pulling at her to become something bigger, better, stronger.

Before she could say it, the hound plugged her mouth again, and another hound moved behind her, taking the place of the first. Her cum-lubed pussy was filled in seconds, and whatever she was going to say was replaced with eager moans, instead.

#

The fucking went on for too long. She was a wreck by the time they were done, and as the hounds stepped away, they were changed. No longer blue as ghosts, but red and black as the hellhounds that they were. Their cocks all but glowed with the power of the demonic, and she groaned as she realized that she had been used to bring them back.

"What...what have I...done..." she whispered.

"I think you just gave us some help," Vakrozad said.

That was probably true. They were definitely more friendly than they had been, and most of the pack had taken up a position near the back of the tunnel, almost like guards getting ready to keep the enemies of the pack away. Yet, at the same time, there was still the feeling that she had done something, given them something that she shouldn't.

She felt drained, not just exhausted, but actually drained, like something had been taken from her. Life? Power? Taint? She hoped that it was just the last one, because if that was the case, then maybe she could have gotten something back. She looked at her hands, half-hoping to see some shift.

There was. Her palms were no longer dusky black, nor did her feet feel the same as they had been. They were still paws, but some of the worst traits had been taken, some of the bestial curse pulled from her and given to another for power, for strength.

That should feel wrong...

But it didn't. It felt like a relief, like she had had something taken from her, something that had been weighing her down, something that had been hurting her. Now, she was a bit more herself, and she had a chance to change things.

She got back to her feet, groaning as she wobbled a little bit. Vakrozad steadied her, patting her back.

"Can you keep moving?"

"I think so."

"I hope so. You got used hard."

"I could have kept going. If I had to."

"Damn. You're a thirsty bitch, aren't you?"

"...Please don't call me that."

"Too much?"

"Well...not 'bad' too much, but too much, yes."

The collar didn't seem to want to let her think of herself as anything but a bitch, and being called one didn't make her feel better. The fact that she had been used by a whole pack of ghost dogs didn't make that easier, either, as it meant that she had stepped further and further from the goodness of her god into the darkness of Melchiresa. She wanted to come back, to lose the power of the hellhound for the power of her god again, and the pleasure was nothing but a trap to keep her back.

Hazel clenched her teeth. If she didn't find a way to stay true to him, she would end up fucking herself over, and not in a good way.

"Come on. Let's keep moving."

The endless dark of the tunnels was only broken by the one hellhound that had stayed at their sides. It led the way forward, guiding them through the darkness. For all that they had come to a Primal Point of Melchiresa and Erastil, she had expected to be greeted by a stag, as well, or at least something to show that the god had power here as much as the Demon Lord did. The feeling of being wrong about all this was not easily shaken.

Hazel bit her lips every time that she felt some of the ghostly seed running down her legs, trying not to think of that as she imagined they were getting closer and closer to the Point. She didn't want to arrive with her head stuck in the realms of sex and hedonism. She wanted to have the good lessons of the god in her mind, something to keep her focused when they finally arrived. Every time that her pussy clenched, every time that her ass puckered, every time that the heat filled her throat with desire, however, she found herself sliding right back to that moment in the middle of the orgy, when she had been getting fucked by who knew how many hounds, filled with cocks that never should penetrate a two-legger.

She groaned under her breath, shaking her head as she squeezed Vakrozad's hand again and again in nervousness. All she wanted was something, anything, to show that she had a chance to get what she needed. If she could just reach the Point, then she could fix this. Use Erastil's power, unleash him, give him the chance to bring some peace back to the Church. There was no way that this was supposed to be what he wanted. There was no way that Aster was right about this.

They rounded another bend, and some light gleamed in the distance. The hellhound growled softly, coming to a halt.

"What's the matter with him?" Vakrozad asked.

"I think he's feeling the Point."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because...I can feel it, too."

And it hurt. The light, even that faint bit of it, stung her. It wasn't so bad that she couldn't tolerate it, but there was a feeling of something purging at her, something that was grabbing at her inner bits and scouring them. Like pouring alcohol on a wound, this burned and hurt as it poured over her body, as if her corrupted self had become something that needed to be cleansed before it could be accepted again.

Hazel didn't know how to feel about that, but she knew that it meant one thing. There was something holy ahead, something that was right with the world.

"Can you keep going?" she asked.

"I think so...I'm not hurting too much, at least."

"Then Melchiresa hasn't taken everything."

"She doesn't, anyway."

"She can. She has."

"..."

"I've seen it, and felt it."

Back at the Arcanamirium. Back with Vitus. Back with everything that had started this mess. Melchiresa might have been liked by the hobgoblins, but she knew the truth. She knew what the Demon Lord could do to others. If you did not bow to her, then she would override you, turn you, transform you into something that would fit in the pack, and reward others with your body if you allowed her.

She gripped at the collar she wore, half-tempted to remove it, but there was something that stopped her. Something in the vision that she remembered. Better not, not until she was sure that they were actually in the clear.

They walked forward, the fiery feeling in her soul slowly getting stronger, hotter. It never quite reached the point where she was unable to move, but the pain did climb, leaving her gasping for breath from time to time.

As she reached the end of the tunnel, just at the cusp of entering the room, the discomfort and pain reached its height. She felt like she was being stretched, as if the light itself was creeping into her pores and leaving her burning from head to toe, scraping out the corruption inside of her. It made her ache, made her feel like she was being brought low by fever and the worst flu that she had ever had. She burst into a cold sweat, feeling the droplets running down her body, and worst of all, she could hear a voice in the back of her head.

This is the power of a god, little bitch. A god that is not best pleased that you have fallen.

Melchiresa. She could recognize the voice of the Demon Lord. She whipped her head around, but there was nothing behind them, the hellhound not speaking, not even looking at her. But the voice was still there, still whispering in her mind.

He can feel me in you.

"What...what's going on?"

"What do you mean?" Vakrozad asked.

"Can't you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

Don't bother, pup. This is just you and me right now.

"Nnngh...She's in my head again..."

"Oh. Um...Maybe you should just think at her, instead of talking?"

Yes, indeed. It's a bit less complicated that way, Melchiresa said with a chuckle.

_Get out of my head. I'm not one of your pack.

No, but you could be.

I don't want to be. Not after all you did.

You think that it was so simple, so black and white as that?

I know it was. You had me raped.

You were made to be a breeder, Hazel. A good bitch, a good hunter, a good mother._

She gritted her teeth, trying to hold back against the voice as it echoed through her skull. Images followed, images of her as a full hellhound, walking on two legs with her belly swollen, various nipples dripping milk for her pups. Mates of all sorts, including Vitus and Vakrozad at either side, fucking her whenever she was not pregnant, and using her other holes when she was. Using her power to maintain health and safety for the pack. Using her strength to keep the pups and the pack safe.

Hazel hissed, slapping her temples.

_Get out...get out...

It is not a bad life. I can promise that you will enjoy it more than you think you will._

Get out of my head!

It's better than you'll get from him.

He'll fix this. He'll fix YOU!

Whether her resistance had been enough or whether Melchiresa had just shrugged and stopped, the voice stopped after that. She gasped for breath, shaking from head to toe, almost feeling like she was on the verge of fainting.

There was still that feeling of the corruption left behind, though, something that both ached and sent shudders down her spine. It was like some sort of lifeline that connected her to Melchiresa, something that could be pulled and tapped at any point, and...

And it felt like she could use that to ease the pain of the fire inside of the room. The light of the god that burned at her, that called to clean her, that seared at her soul, could be endured and lessened by taking the power of the Demon Lord. Hazel shook her head.

"She's a bitch. A royal bitch."

"Obviously. She's a dog."

"Yes, but...ugh."

"What's the matter?"

"She wanted me to give in. To join her, now, of all times."

"...Wow. She really wants you."

"Tell me about it."

Now that she wasn't lost in her own head, she could see the Primal Point properly. It was...well, to put it bluntly, it was deific.

White-blue light streamed out from a center point, burning so brightly that it almost obscured everything else in the room. However, if one looked around that light, never quite staring at it straight-on, one could make out other details. One could see that there was a giant altar in the middle of the room, a bed of stone that reached longways from the center of the chamber to the back of it. Chains of light too white to see straight-on cast beams of illumination that outlined them, all of them leading to the center, like some great imprisoning mechanism that would have been used by paladins to hold a demon.

She cast her eyes across the rest of the room. The walls themselves danced, runes in the shapes of forest creatures - crude, but elegant at the same time - forming and coming apart, like the drawings of ancients on the caves. They came together in lines and letters of calligraphy, spelling out stories and spells that danced across the room, becoming living things for moments before sliding into the stone once more.

The whole room felt alive with magic, with more magic than any one being could contain. It felt like power, like...like life, for lack of a better word. It was a place where nothing could entirely fade, nothing could entirely die. There was too much here, too much vibrancy, for that to ever happen.

She felt like falling to her knees, and so she did.

Holding her arms to her chest, she whispered a prayer to Erastil, a simple catechism. At least, at first.

"Lord of the Forest and Hearth, Lord of Hunt and Home, I thank you for your presence and blessing on this day. I thank you for your guidance through the woods of life, for setting the path before me. I thank you...I thank...I...I...Oh Erastil, it hurts...please...please stop...stop hurting..."

Her eyes filled with tears as her own god continued to pulse and burn her with his power. Vakrozad had to take her by the collar, lifting her up and carrying her forward. It no longer felt like they were walking on stone, but rather on loam, on the almost cloud-like substance that filled the forest. The wood-smoke of a good fire burned in the air, and the gentle wafts of the forest breeze caressed her face. Comfort, but scant comfort against the searing heat that burned through her.

He carried her to the altar, setting her upon it, and she felt like a child being laid across her parents' bed. She was too small, too light for this, but yet, she was not pushed away.

So close now, so close that she felt like she could almost reach out and touch Erastil, bound Erastil. She could see him, a form in the light, something almost elven, almost human, but somehow beyond that. There were stag horns on his head, but...but there was something else.

Not just the shadow that came from all lights - that she had expected, as Melchiresa's voice had come to her - but something else. A single body under it all. A body that looked like it was alive and dead, in stasis, held in place under the light. The chains ran through Erastil, to the body, and then back out again, almost like he was bound to the form as much as he was bound to the room.

What...what is...

She didn't know what was happening, or how, but she knew that this was what kept the power of her god bound here, while Melchiresa roamed free. There was no second body, no second form there. If the Demon Lord had ever had a physical form, it was long gone, and not here.

As she sat there, staring, the room changed. The chamber went from a room of pure light to a room with a shadow swirling along the walls. She turned, watching as the darkness crept through the woods, through the spells along the sides of the room. The creatures of spell-form danced among it, chased by wolves and hounds of darkness and fire. They leaped, not quite in play, not quite in hunt, but unified in their strange way.

It felt like sacrilege and completion, all at once. It was as if the world had changed again, as if something else had come to light.

As Darkness and Light slid against one another on the walls, the former pushing forward and the latter making space, she realized that Erastil was making room for the Demon Lord rather than fighting her off. He was allowing her presence, not killing her. But why? Why would they do that?

Eventually, that shadow of Melchiresa took form on the altar, sitting cross-legged just like Erastil, and sitting just beside him, too. A shadow of black, a silhouette of light.

And then, they opened their eyes. Burning crimson, searing blue, and both stared straight at her and cut deep into her soul.

There were no voices this time, only images. The images started with her as she was, and then split down different pathways. Not just the path of becoming a breeder and becoming normal again, but down endless pathways, each of them different, none offering the same outcome at the end as she might have expected.

Become normal, and go back to face the wrath of a church defeated.

Become a hellhound, and go back and be caged for the rest of her life.

Become normal, and return a saint, a hero, a burning-eyed glory that would guide the church into the next century.

Become a hellhound, a demon, and return to convert a church that had already been shattered beyond recognition.

Become this, become that, all of them leading to different outcomes. Through the lights of evil and good, through chaos and law, she felt the hundreds of different outcomes to her life, thousands, and if she hadn't been holding onto Vakrozad, if he hadn't been pulling at her collar to keep her from sliding away, she would have lost herself completely. She didn't know what to say, or do, or think. All she could do was watch as the possibilities of her life ahead unfolded before her.

It hurt, and she had no idea how to make it stop hurting. All she knew was that her mind and future could go anywhere, and the glowing lights were not entirely equal. The black and red was slowly taking over, not overwhelming the blue, but just being more present. Hazel panted, shaking her head as the futures of demons and hellhounds and more started to become more numerous than the others.

"What...please...stop...I don't want..."

I cannot give you more...

That had to be Erastil's voice, deep and gentle, powerful and compassionate. Hazel groaned, shaking her head.

"You have to. Please...I'm...I'm..."

Melchiresa is unbound. I am not. I live in my bindings.

Why would someone ever do that? Why would someone choose to hold back when they could do so much? And why would - why -

She couldn't think at that point, her mind overwhelmed, her helplessness growing stronger by the second. There was nothing in her power that could change this, that could do anything, save to make a choice.

Or was there?

There was something else here, something that grew stronger and stronger at the Point. She remembered what the others had said, that this was a place of power. She remembered that they had said that this was where things could change. It wasn't just a choice for her future, but a place where things could be altered across the world with the power of demon and god.

I need...I need...to change...to be...better...

She couldn't be better without help, though. The world needed more than just clerics, more than just a church. They needed a god that cared. They needed someone that would make things better.

The air darkened slightly, and the blue light looked her in the eye. She felt something coming from Erastil, almost a fear as she thought of him being free. The darkness pressed harder, and she feared that Melchiresa had found something to break the god, at last.

The power of the room swirled around her, deific and demonic by turns. She felt it just as she had felt the mix inside of her, the same feeling that she had had ever since she'd cast a spell in the vault and it had come out with both holy and demonic energies. She...she had to choose...she had to use this power...

And she had to use it...

To...

The End

Summary: Hazel and Vakrozad go deeper into the tunnels, fighting their way through traps. Well, maybe not fighting...

Tags: M/F, M/M/F, Dogs, Bestiality, Feral, Hounds, Half-Elf, Hellhound, Hobgoblin, Nudity, Humiliation, Vaginal, Oral, Blowjob, Gods, Demons, Series, Fantasy, Orgasm, Cum,