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"So you're saying that this cult..." Cormac sighed, going through what the Goldenmane family's patriarch, an old equine, had just told him.

"Yes. Exactly, damn right. They stole his manhood, and left the poor boy with a cunt," the old horse sighed. He seemed a little wobbly, as if he'd been drinking. "He can't be my heir, now. Not to mention he spends all his time at that accursed temple."

"Alright. Some kind of magic, no doubt," Cormac replied, though truthfully the malamute had never heard of such a thing before. It didn't matter, he was no detective. "So, you need me to find out what they did, steal any supplies to return him to normal, and ideally also bring him back home?"

"Don't you worry about that last one. l will have my men storm the temple once you have secured what I need," the noble answered. He learned a little closer to Cormac, who could smell the alcohol on his breath. He had definitely been drowning his sorrows. "Though there is some extra gold in it for you, if you manage."

"Right. And you know where this temple is?" Cormac asked.

"Yes. They make no effort to hide their presence, but everyone I've sent before has not returned. Perhaps they were convinced to join whatever the cult is doing, which is why I hired you, thief. Go at night, perhaps, to ply your trade," the horse groaned. He reached for a decanter with some brown liquid in it, pouring himself another drink. "A drink, before you go? It's a h-hundred year cognac, and I meant for it to..."

He broke down sobbing, and Cormac excused himself, promising the old noble that he'd come back with both tools and evidence. He couldn't truthfully_understand why the horse cared so much about what happened to be between his son's legs. They were still related, after all. Alas, he feared he never _would_understand the strange customs and intrigues of the ruling class. _Ah, focus on the task at hand, Cormac, he told himself. They certainly don't pay you for trying to understand them.

Going by night was what Cormac had been planning anyway. Of course, he'd visit during the day to memorize the layout, but he'd merely play the role of a potential new recruit. Then, at night, he'd break in and find whatever it was they needed. Probably magical supplies; he'd stolen enough of those in his life to know roughly what he was looking for. The best part of casing locations by day was that nobody could accuse him of nefarious intent, even if he was mentally noticing down all guard posts, windows, and holes in security.

A thief's foremost tool wasn't the set of lockpicks. It was his mind.

The temple was to a god he didn't recognize. A goddess, perhaps? They'd built it into an old mansion in the middle of several others, and even from the outside he could sense a heavy smell of incense and... musk, perhaps? There was a lusty edge to it, which from his experience meant it was some kind of fertility cult. Equally likely was that the place wasn't dedicated to any real deity at all, rather serving only as the leader's personal harem, or a political tool masquerading as a religion to further their own gains. He'd seen both examples in his years. The latter seemed more likely given the lack of any real symbols. Perhaps the leader wanted to end other bloodlines so that his own could gain more power.

Cormac shook his head. He knew that him caring about the details did nobody any good, but being a thief, he was naturally curious. Still - he was only here for a job, not to write a thesis about the cult. That was best left to the scribes, bards, and mages.

He opened the door and stepped inside. What greeted him was a sight bizarre enough to give even him pause. The very first room he stepped into was lined with racks, and on reach rack, there laid a person. Foxes, wolves, a horse - the noble's son? - all of them male but for... well, Cormac had to avert his gaze, feeling a little awkward staring at them all, tied up, but between each pair of legs there was a feminine, inviting mound rather than the expected cock.

Some of them were visibly pregnant; others leaking with something wet that he couldn't quite distinguish in the dim candlelight, but he had his ideas, going by the smell. They all seemed happy enough, clearly not kept here against their will.

The scene was obvious enough. They were all here to be bred. A fertility cult, at least on the surface, then. Cormac forced his attention to the things that people in honest professions never paid any attention to, the unseen gaps in security that he'd later exploit. A window, high up, unsecured. A slight gap in the front door, where the right tool could reach in to unlatch the door from outside.

None of the members - victims, perhaps - were tied down, either. His mind was already visualizing the plan. He'd climb in through the upper window; into the backrooms he could see at the end of the hall, the doors for which had simple locks, and take anything that seemed significant. He'd rouse the young horse from his erotic reverie, if he was still here, and then simply walk out with him. An easy enough job, and the nobleman's private guards would handle the rest.

He noticed a larger shape approaching form the corner of his eye, and turned to face it. A grey wolf, with a cunning, wry smile; muzzle a little greyed, but with a youthful glimmer in his eyes regardless. About the same size as Cormac himself, maybe a little bigger, and going by the heavy robes, clearly the leader of this strange cult.

"Greetings, wanderer," the wolf spoke, softly. "Have you come to join us? I am Azur, the high priest of this temple."

"Greetings. No, I was merely curious, I've heard a lot about this place, and I live right nearby," Cormac improvised. "I hope I've not caused offense, but I wished only to see what your temple was about."

"Oh, no offense taken. Many are curious," the wolf purred. He certainly had the personality of a cult leader, but Cormac couldn't help but notice that he had a distinct upper-class accent. "We simply help our members accept what they truly are; to guide them in surrender to becoming their true selves."

"So, you're saying that all of these people..." Cormac gestured towards the racks. He struggled to find the right way to phrase what he meant.

"Yes, they all wanted to be breeders. To be half female and to be fertilized. To receive the wonderful gift of seed and to let new life swell in their wombs," Azur replied. "Perhaps you do, too?"

Cormac cast another glance towards the horse. The noble's son certainly seemed to be enjoying himself, with how he laid there splayed out and dripping, breathing heavily and occasionally rubbing at his belly. He barely seemed conscious, though, which made Cormac suspect there was more going on here than simply voluntary servitude. He turned to face the wolf again.

"No, but I respect their choices," he lied, not about to believe anything the overly charming lupine told him. "Thank you for satisfying my curiosity."

"A shame. You're quite welcome, but if you ever change your mind... you could return, and let me reshape you with the blessing of our goddess. You'd have a wonderful, fertile cunt between your legs, divinely feminine..."

Cormac twitched at the thought. That kind of twitch. He excused himself, and turned around as casually as he could, leaving the "temple" and stepping out into the open air to let his mind clear. There was clearly something going on there, beyond what they let on. He'd felt his sheath swell and stir as the wolf had talked about those supposedly-divine changes, and he knew that he was perfectly happy being an intact male. Perhaps he was a mage, manipulating others with simple charms.

Ah, well. It didn't matter. After today, "Azur" - if that was even his name - would lose his whole cult. Cormac settled down not too far from the temple, at a nearby inn, to wait for nightfall, and chose a seat by the window so he could watch their comings and goings while sipping on a light pint of ale, just enough to calm his nerves.

Oddly enough, nobody either came or went. It seemed that the adherents of the fertility cult slept at the temple, too. Unfortunate, but not unexpected. A lot of the cults in his city expected absolute obedience, particularly the less-than-savory ones. It'd make his job a little harder, but he had been walking through places where he wasn't supposed to be for his whole life, nimble and quiet enough to tiptoe around a sleeping baby without waking it up. Most malamutes could, and he had a lifetime of training on top.

Soon enough, it was dark outside. Cormac paid his tab and set off on the streets again. In the dark, he moved virtually unseen; even those who cast eyes on him tended to never notice him. He made his way back to the temple, and after ensuring that nobody was watching him, he tossed a hook-tipped rope onto the roof of the building and scurried up it with practiced ease. There; the window, still ajar and as inviting as a hearth on a cold winter's night. It swung open, satisfyingly silent, and in less than a minute, the malamute was inside.

He dropped onto the carpeted floor with barely as much as a thud, which was good, because all the converts were still here, though asleep and snoring. Some of them heavily, with how swollen their bellies were. Others, like the young horse he was here to extricate, were squirming as they no doubt suffered through erotic dreams. His hips were twitching, and Cormac couldn't help but notice his lusty scent mingling with the others in the still air inside.

He made his way to the back. Another door. They hadn't even bothered locking his one, which meant Cormac didn't have to wear out his lockpicks. All the better.

Behind it was a small study, the walls lined with bookshelves, and in the middle of that study stood a desk with an open ledger, surrounded by a few ornate flasks and potions, as well as some sort of leather muzzle with a rag fastened over the nose. This was too easy. He frozen upon entering, expecting a trap to trigger, or for a horde of guards to come rushing after him, but the nocturnal silence remained unbroken.

The book was a journal. It listed all of the new recruits and the specifics. There it was; Goldenmane, the noble house he was here for. Next to the name, there were some scribbles, one of which caught Cormac's attention. "Success. They will end with him."

Was this all an elaborate scheme, then? To degrade and humiliate the houses of nobles and ensure that their patriarchal bloodlines were snuffed out? To what end?

Cormac abstracted the journal into his backpack, along with all the potions he could find. As he picked up the leather muzzle, though, a realization struck him. It'd fit over his snout almost exactly. No, not almost. It'd be a _perfect_fit. The malamute felt strangely tempted to try it on, an alluring fragrance seeming to billow from the cloth affixed to it. His sensitive nose told him most of it was musk - perhaps the wolf's own - but with a strange edge to it, something that tickled in his nostrils even from afar.

Maybe it'd not hurt to just try it, Cormac found himself thinking, his sheath stirring again at the intrusive mental image of just pulling it tight over his snout and inhaling greedily, but then shook his head. If he really had to, he'd try it _outside._He hung the muzzle from the side of his backpack, so as to not coat all his belongings in that maddening smell.

That was that. Nothing else in the room seemed important. He tiptoed back to the entrance and unlatched the front door to open up a quick escape route if anyone noticed him. Now, there was that matter of some extra gold.

Cormac approach the horse, who was sleeping restlessly. It seemed the wolf - presumably - had taken another turn with him recently, going by how his slit seemed to be trickling a fresh load of cum. Did they all just lay here and allow themselves to be impregnated, then? There was something wrong, that much Cormac was certain of, but he simply lacked the expertise to say exactly what. He nudged the younger Goldenmane's shoulder, and he stirred awake, staring at the malamute with a blank stare.

"Hey. Your father wants to see you. Come with me," Cormac whispered.

"Mh- but I'm supposed to- supposed to stay here until I'm pregnant," the horse replied in a low voice. He squirmed a little, idly reaching to knead at his excited-looking folds, before sitting up.

"That wolf has done something to you," Cormac continued. "Gotten into your head somehow. Don't worry, we'll get you back to normal."

Well, _he_wouldn't, but the older Goldenmane could no doubt afford to hire a mage or two once he had something to show them. He grabbed the horse by the wrist, as gently as he could, guiding him onto his feet.

But then, when he turned around to leave, he found himself standing face to face with the leader of the cult, Azur's narrowed eyes fixed to his own.

"Well, well, to think you're merely a thief. Not that it wasn't obvious, but it's always good to have ones suspicions confirmed," he spoke. "Poaching my breeders. No doubt you were hired by his father? Ah well, I'll know all the details soon enough."

Leader or not, the wolf was still only a wolf. Bigger, yes, but if he had to, Cormac figured he could go through. It wouldn't be the first time he had to knock someone out to escape. His body tensed.

"Not to worry, I was just leaving, with younger Goldenmane here," he countered. "I know what you're up to."

"Yes, I'm aware you're attempting to rob me blind," Azur snarled. "Not to worry, as you said. We'll fix that attitude for you. You'll make a much better person as a subservient breeding bitch."

A difficult situation. He heard the horse shuffle about behind him, but he couldn't take his eyes off Azur or he'd surely lunge. As he watched, the wolf opened, and then shed, his heavy robes, revealing himself to be both well-built and well-hung. In fact, his bright-red lupine shaft was peeking already, as if he was getting excited by the situation. With no intent to indulge his strange exhibitionism, Cormac reached for his trusty blackjack, planning a quick knockout. It was hanging right by that strange muzzle he'd found.

As he moved, though, he realized the muzzle was gone. Before he could react, the horse grabbed him from behind with a surprisingly strong arm - he was still male in all but his sex, after all - and pulled the muzzle over Cormac's snout.

"He's such a good pet, very eager to share our blessings," the wolf grinned, making no effort to attack or even defend himself as Cormac struggled with the person he was here to save.

The malamute could feel the damn musk tickling at his nostrils, which was _annoying,_but he had no idea what they thought it'd accomplish. He brought his elbow down, sharply, into the horse's ribs. Once, with a meaty thud, and then again, feeling his grip loosen as Cormac knocked the breath out of his lungs. He took a deep breath, doing some quick mental math on how he'd take them both down - and then froze, in the middle of a half-finished motion to swing his blackjack. His nose burned in the most pleasant way as he breathed in the musky aphrodisiac the muzzle had been soaked in, and his thoughts suddenly felt hazy and sluggish.

His knees wobbled. The smell was good, very good. Cormac shook his head, trying to clear his mind, pulling at the muzzle doing it and finding his fingers too weak to get it off.

"You'll feel a lot better once you just embrace it," the wolf crooned. Suddenly, he seemed a lot more imposing, the cocky grin on his face so... dominant_and _masculine. "Your inner bitch."

He stepped closer, and Cormac found himself unable to move away. "Just keep breathing steadily. Just like that," Azur murmured. "Accept the goddess' blessing."

That last bit was delivered with such dripping venom that it was obvious he didn't believe there to be anything magical about it. It was only an act to convince more followers to submit to his nefarious schemes. Despite it being so obvious, though, the feelings surging through Cormac's body were no less real; he could feel his sheath tingling and swelling with excitement. He couldn't tear his eyes from the wolf's body, especially the rock-hard breeding rod jutting out from his crotch. Unfamiliar instincts urged the malamute to sink to his knees and lick it, to kiss it, even worship it.

"Get me the pink potion. Probably from his backback," Azur commanded the horse, who eagerly obeyed, slipping Cormac's pack off his shoulders and onto the floor. He dug through it, finding one of the potions the malamute had squirreled away, and handed it to his alpha.

"This one cost me a fortune," the wolf smiled. "Mostly it's aphrodisiacs, but it does wonders in making the body... malleable. Oh, don't worry, dog. It'll only show you who you really are. I won't force you do anything after you drink it, and if you don't, I'll let you walk out of here both unchanged and with your prize..."

He paused, deft and strong fingers prying the muzzle off just enough to press the uncorked bottle to Cormac's lips and tilting it in, sweet-tasting liquid cascading over the thief's tongue.

"Or you could walk out of here in heat, your wonderful cunt full of my seed and dripping with excitement, fertile and ready to present yourself to the first male you see just like a good bitch should."

Cormac shuddered. He realized, to his horror, that he'd swallowed every drop of the potion. It felt warm on its way down into his belly, and even warmer inside it. In a vacuum, it wasn't an unpleasant sensation, vaguely reminiscent of a prideful sense of satisfaction or perhaps a good pint of strong ale, but it was knowing the wolf's intents that had Cormac dreading the feeling. Quickly, he began to feel weaker, too, lightheaded - and oddly soft, like his muscles were relaxing after a hard workout.

"You can take the muzzle off, pet," the wolf ordered. Cormac's eyes darted to him again, after a brief period of being unfocused, and then realized he wasn't talking to_him,_ but to the horse he was here to rescue. "He'll get it from the source soon enough. Take his clothes off, too."

Obediently, the horse let the musk-soaked muzzle fall from Cormac's face, and then deftly unbuttoned his concealing pants, leaving his hardened cock free to spring out in a show of evident lust.

"Here's my offer, thief: If you don't act like a bitch in heat, you won't become one. But you know you want to know how all of the others feel," the wolf grinned, only briefly glancing at the malamute's erection. His hand wrapped around his throbbing erection, stroking it leisurely, and Cormac's mouth suddenly felt _very_dry as he watched that beautiful breeding rod drool a few drops of precum. "And you'll tell me everything I want to know while it's happening."

"See? You're already staring. You know you want to raise your tail and see how it feels inside you. But you need your body to better match your spirit, first..."

His lewd proposals wouldn't normally as much as cause Cormac to stir, but with the potion coursing through his body and the fresher, pheromone-laden sex-scent filling the air around the wolf, his knees suddenly felt very weak.

"Get down on your knees and worship me. Show me how badly you want to be a perfect bitch..." the wolf ordered. "The only cock a thief like you needs is one pumping into your soaked cunt."

Cormac told himself that he wouldn't obey, but watching the wolf slowly stroke himself was almost hypnotizing. He remembered seeing how happy the other converts had looked. How eagerly they'd been keeping their legs spread, hoping for a beautiful cock to bless their bodies with seed. How sexy the ones who had already been bred looked. That warm glow between his legs grew more and more intense, and the malamute understood that all he had to do was surrender to it, and he'd be just like them.

In heat. Fertile. Moaning. And then, swollen with life.

He didn't want that, and yet, his body felt way too heavy to keep himself upright, the commanding sight of the wolf's cock drawing him towards it like a moth to flame.

"There you go. That's a much more suitable position for a submissive breeding-bitch," the wolf rumbled, but it wasn't until Cormac felt his hand behind his ear that he realized he was already kneeling. He watched - feeling almost like a detached observer, viewing someone else's feverishly erotic memories - as the wolf brought his dripping shaft closer to his muzzle.

The feeling of his own tightness, of his aching erection demanding attention was already lessening, the relaxed and receptive feeling slowly sweeping over his loins. He felt lighter, somehow, like there was more space down there. More space for a handsome male to use as he rutted her pregnant.

Once again, Cormac shook his head. He didn't want this. Yet all he managed was to bump his snout against the musky cock in front of him, some of its wetness smearing over his nose. Why wasn't he getting up and running for it? Was the cruel wolf right?

"That's it. All you have to do is show me you want it, and you'll receive everything you've ever dreamt of. Let the goddess of femininity reshape you, to match who you are inside..."

Knowing that there was no such goddess only made his submission more bitter. All of this was merely potions, pheromones, and magic. But somewhere in his heart, Cormac wanted to believe. At least then he'd have an excuse for what he was doing as his muzzle parted in quiet but rapid panting, feeling the white-hot slick cockflesh slip between his lips. It felt so right, somehow.

The feeling between his legs seemed to sink deeper into him. No more tense, throbbing masculine need, but an almost itchy, tingling sensation. Cormac didn't dare to look down, noticing that he could no longer feel his balls at all. A gust of air, blowing through the window he'd left open, brushed over a growing bare wetness in his loins.

"Keep going," the wolf ordered. "You're doing so well for a worthless, thieving breed-slut."

His grip around Cormac's head tightened, fingers digging into his ears and neck. When he pulled, he seemed far, far stronger than he could possible really be. Inexorably forcing the malamute's muzzle deeper onto his cock, and at the same time, his amazing cock deeper into Cormac's mouth. It slid over his tongue, and jerked as it spat out a string of scalding-hot precum. Every drop of it tasted so intensely masculine. And that swelling, swooping, clenching feeling in his lower belly promised him to get even better if he just gave that cock the attention it deserved. If he just sucked.

Slowly, he began to do so, instincts and urges taking over, heedless of his logical mind yelling at him. Cormac closed his eyes, feeling his face and ears burn with shameful arousal, but he was able to resist no longer. His tongue lashed over the bulging cum-vein that'd shoot be pumping seed into his body. It curled over the pointed glans, savoring every warm spurt of precum

There were two distinct thoughts that burned in his minds. The first was asking himself why he was doing this, and the second questioning why he hadn't done it sooner.

"Almost there. Just keep acting like a needy bitch and you'll be there soon," the wolf snarled. Though his body wasn't getting any smaller, Cormac regardless felt smaller and helpless as he slurped around the wolf's hardness. He didn't even know the lupine's name, he realized. Maybe he really was a submissive bitch at heart? No. Yes, maybe. When he dared to acknowledge the thought, he could feel his cock shrinking, and his balls tightening up, melding into his body with each lick of the wolf's cock, and the worst thing was that it felt good.

The wolf let go, simply standing there with his hands by his sides.

Cormac realized that he could've bolted for the door.

He didn't, of course. He kept sucking, too far gone to stop now. There was a tangible, slippery feeling between building between his legs, now. A strange, deepening sensation. He could just about see it before him, his new pussy yawning open wetly, ready to be claimed. His cock reduced to a thrumming, white-hot pleasure-point just at the end of his new folds, undeniably feminine. A growing feeling of emptiness that left him squirming, a not unpleasant cramping in his belly where a womb was forming. His juices cascading down his thighs and soaking his fur. He was so utterly helpless to do anything about it, about his reshaped body wantonly showing off how badly it needed to get mated. Everyone, once he left this temple, would be able to smell his lust, and just imagining it made Cormac feel feverishly, almost nauseously dizzy.

He wanted to feel it. Had to feel it. The malamute's paw dove between his legs, and quickly, the jarring sensation of his familiar sheath not being there anymore was replaced with shivering jolts of pleasure as his fingers found a set of soaked lips. He brushed over his clit and moaned around the cock in his muzzle, almost seeing stars with how intense it felt. The worst part was that he could smell himself, too, and he smelled just like... just like a...

"Good bitch," the wolf growled. "Doesn't that feel better? More natural?"

He yanked his cock out of Cormac's suckling mouth almost cruelly, leaving the malamute staring at him with lust-glazed eyes. Once again, the sight of it, so ready to sink inside him and pump him full of strong, virile seed made Cormac clench with desire.

"Why don't you present yourself for me, slut? We're not done here, yet. You want those changes to be permanent, don't you?"

Cormac shook his head, but the only sound to leave his mouth was a needy whine.

"It's only my seed that can solidify your new form," Azur explained, giving the beleaguered malamute another ultimatum, one that he already knew the inevitable conclusion of. "Spread your legs and let me give you gift of maternity."

Immediately, a view of himself, swollen and pregnant and happy flashed through Cormac's mind. A perverse, potion-induced thankfulness towards the wolf for even offering to bless his new pussy with his cum. The deep, intense clench of excitement that followed almost made him collapse onto the floor.

"Help him onto the rack, pet," Azur commanded his broodmare.

Cormac didn't resist in the slightest as they hoisted him up, together, and moved him to rest belly-down on the padded rack. It was constructed so that his rump was turned up, and just wide enough that it left his legs spread, too. The malamute moaned as his clit smushed, wetly, against the slick cold leather. He felt incredibly vulnerable like this, but then, that was the point, wasn't it? Training him to shamelessly offer himself to be mounted, rutted, and bred. To offer his dripping pussy so that any passing male could soothe his heat, barely more than an animal.

But he wasn't a mere animal. It was only wishful thinking to hide behind. He could choose not to surrender, and yet, Cormac didn't move an inch even as the wolf moved behind him.

"You're soaking wet. Just like the others were," Cormac's tormentor commented, and the malamute blushed in his helplessness. But the wolf made no move beyond running the tip of his cock along his drenched new folds, and Cormac found himself letting out an unwanted, frustrated whine instead.

"Tell me," Azur murmured, speaking slowly. "That you want it. That you want me to make this beautiful new pussy of yours permanent, to leave it thirsting to be seeded..."

He rubbed his leaking tip over Cormac's clit, like a painter might move his brush, knowing exactly what he was doing, whereas the malamute didn't know how to resist those new, confusing, and yet so incredibly intense erotic sensations. Only barely did he manage to keep his mouth shut. But his hips were twitching, nudging towards all that the wolf's rock-hard cock promised, feeling it nudge between his overly sensitive lips. Each passing moment only made it worse. Cormac could've lied to himself, told himself that he didn't want it, but he knew that wasn't true. If he didn't, then why was he having to fight his urges so damn hard to keep from impaling himself on Azur's cock and sealing his fate?

He was always meant to be this way, wasn't he? He never really had a choice.

As good an excuse as any. Cormac couldn't fight it anymore, and that exact moment of giving in felt wonderfully liberating, all resistance and tension leaving in a wave of relief. He allowed his body to scoot backwards, as much as the rack allowed, and let out a dissolute groan as he felt the wolf's tapered head slip into him, into that unfamiliar and yet so wonderfully natural wet space between his legs.

At that point, Azur took over, with a deep, dominant growl, and thrust deep into Cormac's body.

The penetration was slick with how wet the dog had gotten, with almost no friction, but the way he stretched around the tapered, canine shaft was beyond amazing, sparks of pleasure going off throughout his whole body. This time, he couldn't stop it, and moaned out loud as his body surrendered the wolf's manipulations.

"Rrgh, there. It's like you were born for this. Who sent you?" Azur growled, and then thrust sharply.

The words spilled from Cormac's lips in an involuntary cascade. "O-oh, Goldenmane!" he groaned, readily baring his secrets just so he could feel more of that throbbing red length pumping into him.

Azur growled with appreciation, and rewarded the malamute with a slow, leisurely thrust that made his whole body tingle. "Good bitch. What did he send you here for?"

"T-to, ngh, to steal your s-secrets, oh gods-" Cormac whimpered and moaned. The sensation was incredible, nearly impossible to describe. Every inch of his new sex was so sensitive, every touch inside it an ecstatic shiver, and it radiated into every fiber of his being.

"Good bitch," Azur reinforced the conditioning, thumbing over Cormac's stiff clit, seemingly relishing the way it made the former male squeal. "So he- rrf- doesn't know what I'm up to, yet... was he planning anything else?"

"Soldiers. He w-was going to... send them... when I return," Cormac panted breathlessly. He felt so full, feeling the wolf's masterful cock reaching some hidden depths. It all felt so natural, even if it wasn't. Letting a bare, unprotected cock rut into him like this - it was heaven. His mind was beginning to bend under the pressure, the coiling tension in his belly, fuelled by the knowledge that he'd be receiving a bellyful of virile cum soon. And then there'd be no going back.

"Ah, I see," Cormac replied, speeding up his thrusts into a wet, slapping rhythm with practiced ease. He'd done it so many times before that it came as second nature, and having the malamute finally surrender spurred him on. "I suppose we'll have to relocate. Just in- rrf- just in case. Start packing, pet."

With a sad whimper - disappointed that he wouldn't get to watch the show, the younger Goldenmane immediately moved to rouse those converts who had managed to sleep through the heated exchange, and they moved to obediently pack up any evidence of Azur's scheme, whatever it was.

"I'm getting close, pup," Azur taunted Cormac. "I'm going to seed you soon. And then there's no going back. You'll be stuck like this forever. Going into heat and yearning for males to rut you pregnant..."

Cormac shuddered. His body was on fire. Consequences be damned, he needed this. Anything else could wait, he could deal with whatever the results were, even if his belly swelled. He needed this with every ounce of his very being.

The words came freely, after that. He begged Azur to fill him, loudly and shamelessly. He begged for the wolf to claim him, to breed him, to bless his quivering cunt with his seed. Azur was all too happy to oblige, and slammed his entire length into Cormac's clutching body.

At first, it seemed like nothing happened, but then he began to feel like he was being stretched wider and wider. Azur's knot, he realized, dimly. Once he'd had one, too, even if it felt like a distant and unimportant life, now. It was swelling inside him, and once they were tied together he'd...

Azur throbbed inside him. His cock jerked heavily, and Cormac could hear the wolf growling possessively, his grip on the transformed malamute's hips tightening. Another hard throb, and then a splash of heat tickling his newly formed and still sensitive cervix, followed by another, and then another, each to the primal rhythm of his cock pulsing. The sensation made Cormac's mind melt into incoherent pleasure, and he barely even registered that he was cumming, too, dutifully milking around his breeder's cock.

Their bodies worked in perfect harmony through that moment, reduced to nothing but a throbbing virile cock and a spasming, fertile pussy for it to fill. Cormac felt nothing short of amazing, chills running through him as his malleable body finally solidified into a new, half-female form, the potion's power spent. He felt free, he felt so incredibly sexy like this, so satisfied. Like he wanted to serve the handsome wolf forever, to bear all his pups.

None of that was to be, though. Once he was done pumping his cum into the malamute, and he had no more secrets to spill, Azur yanked himself out the moment his knot had shrank enough to do so, leaving Cormac's new slit yawning emptily and drooling with white. He used the dog's tail to wipe his softening cock clean, just about to leave him there as he and his cult relocated, when one more thought seemed to cross his mind.

He turned around, and only a moment later Cormac felt a stream of something warm splash over his thighs, soaking his fur. He knew the wolf was marking him, and he did nothing to resist, his orgasm having robbed him of all strength.

"There. Enjoy your new life," Azur snarled as the stream died down, leaving Cormac matted with his urine and cum both. "Come find me if you ever need a refresher."

They left him there, and Cormac slept in spite of his degradation, on the very same rack he'd been bred on, dreams conflicted between defiance and a blissful, swooning kind of acceptance of his new femininity.

The next day, when the sun had set once again, he left the now abandoned temple with his tail between his legs, doing his best to conceal the shamefully dripping and yet so amazingly sensitive slit he now had. Thankfully, it was dark enough that nobody - at least not many - saw the thick, pearly cum dripping out of him in warm, clingy strands, or smelled his marked fur. He certainly couldn't go back to the Goldenmanes for help, not after so eagerly revealing all their plans and secrets in the throes of pleasure. He'd done it all just so he could remain like this, too, perhaps forever, and everyone would be able to both see and smell it on him, and worst of was that the idea thrilled him, tickled the naughtiest, dirtiest parts of his mind, tempting him to let them see it.

He slept the night in an abandoned building, plagued by erotic dreams that left his exhausted body squirming and bucking. The torment didn't stop there, either. In the morning, he was dismayed - and yet strangely excited - to find that his need still raged as great as ever. He was still in heat. The wolf had indeed told him the truth; that first seeding hadn't successfully knocked him up, only intensified the yearning to let it happen.

The conflict of emotions was intoxicating. The rational part of the malamute's mind was screaming at him to find a way to reverse the changes, and the part of him that was in heat was equally loudly demanding that he embrace his new role. He'd already surrendered to those submissive urges once, after all. It wasn't until late in the afternoon, with his hands soaked with his nectar after vainly trying to give himself some relief, that he made a decision.

Cormac swept himself up in some clothes left behind by the home's owner, and set off towards something new.