High School is Hell - Idle

Lethargy

_ _

'They called it the Sluggish Swamps colloquially but its true name is the 'Quagmire'. For the first time since entering Hell, the demon that inhabited the plane fit the plane itself. Thick black swamps rolled in front of me as far as the eye could see. If you've ever smelled boiling semen, you will know how the swamps smelled like. The sky was perpetually orange and there were pools of what could only be demonic semen everywhere, Sloth demons just lounging amongst them, relaxing and constantly inviting those passing by into the pools with them. They had various servants constantly attending them. In many respects, it was like an enormous, open air day spa with Sloth Demons as the perpetual customers and everyone else their eternal servants.'

Havoc Mors stood quietly on a cliff side. The rocky outcropping had been shattered and broken by the ascension of one Conway Mitchell from ordinary high school coach to the most powerful Deception Demon on Earth. Though exiled to Hell, the combination of a human soul with the strength of a demon would see the hybrid creature rise to repair the fractured stability of Hell and perhaps lead the demons to a better future.

After all, No Ones cared for everyone be they human, angel or demon.

And for H2 the Harbinger of Havoc, nothing was more deserving of his help than poor creatures that were trapped in the endless monotony of an unfulfilling existence without any hope of change.

Chaos brought change. And Havoc was its herald.

However, it seemed that he was not the only one who had taken an interest in the events of this reality.

"As much as I appreciate your help," he said over his shoulder, "I had it covered."

A slim twenty-something young man approached Havoc from behind, holding something wrapped in a paper towel. His hair was jet-black but it also included strange golden streaks springing from his temples stepped up beside him. He wore a plain white shirt with the logo of some backwater convenience store and was otherwise indistinguishable from other humans save perhaps for the silver wrap-around sunglasses that he wore. His nametag denoted him as 'Jacob'.

The newcomer held up the item he was holding and pulled back the towel, revealing that he had actually been holding a churro which he offered to Havoc to which the No One regarded the sugary stick of dough with suspicion.

"You don't need to worry, Havoc," Jacob said. "I'm not here to reprimand you or foil your schemes." He had a churro himself and munched on it with an enigmatic smile on his face. "I quite approve of your actions. I do hope you weren't offended by the fact that I've actually be down to Hell helping those you sent down there or that I sent A11 to help with the Heaven thing."

Havoc snorted loudly. "This plane is far more interesting anyway..."

"I quite agree but that doesn't mean you should neglect the other planes as well."

"I thought you weren't going to reprimand me."

"That wasn't a reprimand." Jacob shrugged and bit off one more piece of the choro. "Just a piece of friendly advice. Besides, now that your attention is no longer divided between Heaven or Hell, you can focus all your efforts here."

Havoc grumbled begrudgingly. "I suppose that's true." He gave Jacob a curious stare. "You're really alright with what I'm doing here?"

"You're not just shoving change down people's throats but letting them deal with it. Admittedly, the whole 'transforming them into demons in the most orgasmic way possible' is a little crass and blunt for my liking but one can't argue with the results."

Havoc snorted. "You're talking to_me_ about crass and blunt? Who is the one that appears to people when they die_and reincarnates them in a different body, a different world and with no memories of who they are? In fact, if I recall correctly, _you've been known to give people magical trinkets that turned them into horny beasts. Hell, you even ran that night club for that guy once to create a self-perpetuating reality."

"I don't always go for reincarnation, you know." Jacob smirked and sat down on the cliff side, his legs dangling over the edge of the shattered edge. "Besides, what do you think the 'R' in 'R3' stands for?"

"Riiiight..." Havoc regarded the snack in his hands pensively before taking a bite out of it. "When the owner of this world approached us for help, I honestly didn't see much issue with it. There was a system. People were sorted depending on their desires, deeds and dispositions. It has fascinating literature, a rich history and a myriad of possibilities and people. There was enough change happening that it wasn't a static world. Even the heavens and hells change constantly."

"What changed?"

The No One let out a soft thoughtful hum. "Honestly? Nothing. And that's what bothered me. It looks like the world is constantly changing but it's stuck in this endless cycle. Civilisations rise and fall. Beliefs forge the afterlife. Mortal will carves the future. Then it happens all over again. Different colours. Same shit."

Jacob chuckled softly. "Entertaining metaphor there."

"It's true. If you look at Cerberus, his life was forged based on the belief of an ancient civilisation. But that civilisation has faded into legend and he was forced to adapt to a new type of Hell based on the beliefs of the current system. Sometime in the future, that will change but it'll be exactly the same. The good go to Heaven. The bad go to Hell."

"And those in between come to us."

"Yeah..." Havoc frowned and crossed his arms, taking another bite from the churro. "It's static. Unchanging. All it's really doing is transferring people from one place and stacking them in piles in another. It doesn't actually help_them. All you're doing is putting them in a box with others like them and giving them toys to play with. You're exploiting their personalities and focusing on _one aspect of their existence without considering the rest of their personalities. Even a serial killer is more than how many people he stabbed with a knife. A nun is more than just the charities she gives to or children she teaches."

"So what is your solution?" Jacob asked.

"This place," he said, sweeping his hand around him, "will keep changing. I don't want to interfere with them directly. They'll sort themselves out. It's those stuck in Heaven and Hell with nowhere to go that bother me. I mean even fucking for all eternity will get boring eventually and your mind will rot like that."

"No arguments here." Jacob smiled softly. "Introducing human souls into the afterlife, cloaked in the guise of the supernatural but with the heart and soul of the very same mortals that give stability to their realm. Circumventing the limitations of demons and angels to being confined to Hell and Heaven respectively by allowing the denizens of the afterlife to recover their mortal souls." He gave Havoc a lopsided grin. "Demons aren't allowed to leave Hell and Angels are confined to Heaven until the apocalypse. Nothing restricts a creature with the body of the divine but the soul of a mortal." He adjusted his glasses slightly. "It's a very ambitious plan, Havoc. It can go in a variety of ways."

He stood up and rested a hand on his colleague's shoulder. "Just don't get sloppy and let someone like that Daniel fellow slip through the cracks again. If it had been anyone else behind that cashier, he'd have made his own thrall and you'd have another demon running about."

"Who says that isn't what I wanted?"

Jacob chuckled softly and began walking away. "If it had been, you would've intercepted me before I could've gotten there so you could make your case."

Havoc returned the soft laugh. "Advantages of being outside of space and time, eh?" Jacob didn't answer him. He inclined his head to the side in puzzlement. "Tell me something. You knew this was going to go down the way it did. It's nice to have your support and all but you didn't need to do this. Why this encounter?"

The leader of the No Ones gave him a smirk, tilting his sunglasses slightly so that Havoc could see his bizarre irises shaped like eight pointed stars. Large chains began unfurling from his back, spreading out to form the ominous shape of the skeletal structure of a pair of wings.

"Because last chapter, the audience saw me with Daniel."

Havoc rolled his eyes. "Right. Of course."

******

Demons, even humans turned into demons, didn't need sleep except in the most extreme circumstances like when their bodies were out of energy and just needed to shut down to recuperate. In the house of a certain legendary hellhound, Flash Goldman absently leafed through his homework for the rest of the week. Without the need of sleep, he had a lot of time on his enormous paws. He could be working out or maybe shooting a few hoops but that was what he had done an hour ago. Now he was just bored.

Masturbation was always an option. One of the primary reasons a demon would fall asleep was due to excessive loss of energy through ejaculation or by spreading their corruptive energies. Given that he now had to live in Russ' house, he didn't feel that was really appropriate. Russ had no qualm with him cumming everywhere but given that he had just come back from a fight with a few Deception Demons and consumed a hell of a lot of demonic energy, he'd have to cum a whole swimming pool worth of demonic seed before he fell asleep. Besides, he preferred to metabolise that energy so that it filled his muscles and he grew bigger. He had to admit to a bit of jealousy as Russ' sheer size and intimidating build.

He wondered how Russ or even Virgil had ever managed it but then remembered that they had one another. They probably just fucked each other silly until they fell asleep in one another's arms. The thought brought to mind his own 'mate'. Dante was in the room adjacent to his own and given the events of the day, he was probably bursting with need just as he was. But he still barely knew the guy. There was a tugging in his heart that drew him to the jet-black hellhound but doubt and insecurity kept him from acting upon them.

Was he really gay? Or was he just gay because he was a demon? Or was he just gay for Dante? Flint, his twin brother, was openly homosexual and the lifestyle had caused their father, Buck, to treat Flint even more coldly than his other children. Buck had even tried to send Flint to the only co-ed school in Angelton in the vain, half-assed attempt to get him to get into girls.

That chain of thought brought him to thinking about Buck and a soft growl rolled up from his throat.

Several earthquakes throughout the course of the week and Buck Goldman didn't even stick around. He just up and left, gave his kids some credit cards and then told them to take care of themselves. Some father he was.

Why should Flash care what Buck thought if he wasn't even going to take the effort to take care of his sons?

"Can't sleep either?"

He perked his sharp ears towards the door and was surprised to find the towering figure of Russ leaning against the doorframe. In his hellhound form, Russ was a truly impressive figure with dark brown - almost black, fur all over his body and a sculpted physique that would have made the gods envious. He was, after all, Heracles who had been damned to guarding the doors of the underworld contrary to how the legend went. And legendary demi-god of incredible strength was always depicted as a towering, chiselled epitome of masculinity. As a hellhound, he was even more impressive.

"Yeah," Flash muttered, looked down at his books. "Just trying to catch up on school work."

"What are you studying?" Russ asked, wandering over. He leaned over Flash, setting on either side of Flash against the desk. The big hellhound was pressing his naked chest against Flash's back but the crimson demon didn't give it much thought. "Ah, algebra. Huh... seems a little simple. Isn't this something seniors should've done earlier? Like when they were freshmen?"

Flash blushed and looked away. "I sort of put it off. You only need basic algebra to graduate and this is advanced. The smart seniors take things like advanced calculus or something. Never gave math much thought."

Russ swiped the book off the desk and sat down on Flash's big, black, marble bed. It was rather curious that Dante preferred a hard stone bed that had no mattress or even quilt. It really looked more like a demonic altar than anything else. Flash, on the other hand, had found the bed he was given had morphed into a big, velvety place of rest. In fact, as he looked around, he realised just how much his room had changed in the past hour.

The floors and walls had become completely black whereas once they were made of a deep red mahogany. It still looked like they were made of wood but carved from some unholy black tree. There were tongues of black hellfire hanging in the air here and there, not really providing any illumination as such but just adding to the ambiance of the little room of hell. The frame of Flash's bed had transformed into the same black wood but the quilt and mattress had become a bright, silky crimson material that was oddly soft to the touch. When Russ pressed his weight against it, he sank a little against the folds.

"Calculus," Russ laughed softly. "You know, even after thousands of years of existence, I still find this subject bloody pretentious. It has its applications in the real world, I know, but realistically speaking, once you graduate from college, the chances of you using this in the real world is slim to none."

"Yeah but I need it to get into a good college," Flash muttered, leaning on his black, wooden desk. "Speaking of which..." He gave Russ a curious look. "Given that I'm... well..." He gestured at his chiselled, muscular torso covered in creamy fur but with every muscle perfectly accentuated and the swirl of black markings all over his chest. "This... What are the chances I'll be going to college?"

Russ snorted loudly and set the book down. "I honestly wish you had been transformed at the start of your high school career. It'll give you more time to get used to being a hellhound."

Flash inclined his head to the side curiously. "Why?"

"Because college is generally where all the supernaturals gather."

That surprised the young hellhound. "Wait... what? Really?"

"It's true," Russ laughed. "Virgil and I actually hit a college once after getting back from Hell. There were werewolves, vampires, dryads, wizards, angels, demons and once a fucking No One." Russ rolled his eyes. "It's where we first met R3." He shuddered. "Fuck, those wings of his still scares the hell out of me. I've seen the fucking Angel of Death but R3 makes that guy look like a kitten."

"What were they doing in a college?" Flash asked.

"Whatever they wanted!" Russ laughed, spreading his arms. "In College, most people are free from the constraints of their parents, can experiment and start on their new lives! It's where kids turn into adults and find their place in life. Regardless of what kind of supernatural creature you are, in college, you'll likely find a kindred spirit!"

With a smirk, Flash crossed one leg over the other and folded his arms, his muscles stretching against the black jacket he wore. "Not in high school, huh?"

Russ waved the statement away dismissively. "In high school, there's too much pressure. This constant fear of getting into college is pressed upon you. It's enforced that there is an enormous wall between high school and college that you need to scale to succeed but in college, there's less pressure. You can fail classes, change courses or even take some classes again. There are more options. Yes there are still expectations and there are still costs but in college, your wings as able to spread wide for the first time and for most people, that's a very liberating experience. That's what attracts all the creatures of the supernatural world there." Russ got a pensive look topped with a soft smile. "It might be their only chance at reproduction in some cases."

A strange prickling sensation ran through Flash's body causing his hackles to rise. "Some demons can only reproduce by converting humans?" he growled.

"I didn't say demons," Russ laughed. He swung his legs over the bed so that he now lay across it. He crossed his big arms behind his head, showing off the thick hairs springing from his armpits. "Other supernatural creatures. Werewolves, for one, are sterile. So are dryads. Only way they can ever keep their species going is to transform others. Dryads can only reproduce by binding a soul to a tree and college campuses tend to be one of the safest places to have trees last for a long time. Settle yourself in the middle of a quad, go around as a perpetual student and if anyone ever suggests chopping down your tree, just start up a protest."

A sense of pity invaded Flash's heart and he let out a soft whimper. "Wow... I didn't know other creatures had it so rough." He laughed softly and dipped his gaze, a blush touching his cheeks. "I'll admit, I had this fantasy of turning into a werewolf one day."

"A werewolf?" Russ lifted an eyebrow at him. "What attracted to you to it? The feral savagery? All the power? I'm sure by now you've realised that the bluster that Hollywood puts on werewolves is highly exaggerated, right?"

Flash got off his seat and parked himself at Russ' feet, legs crossed like a good, attentive little pup. "What are real werewolves like then?"

An amused smile crossed the older hellhound's features. "I think it'd be better if you tell me what you think werewolves are like. There's a lot of bullshit to sift through and thousands of years of history."

"Okay... So do they transform at the full moon?"

"Nope. Complete and utter bullshit. Whoever linked the full moon to werewolves are idiots. Next."

"Can they change into wolves?"

"Nope. They change into anthropomorphic wolves akin to what we look like but they tend to be bigger, beefier and more bestial. Oh and they don't have tails."

Flash regarded the red plume of fur and flesh jutting out from behind him that he easily controlled to sit across his lap. There was a time when the weight felt so strange but now he couldn't imagine himself without it. He honestly wondered sometimes how people could not have tails.

"They can change any time they want?"

"Correct but it's not some brutal twisting of flesh and muscle or one of orgasmic pleasure like yours and mine."

"What's it like then?"

"It's a complicated ritual." Russ gestured at Flash's chest. "They usually have tattoos of wolves all over their bodies but hidden within those tattoos is their 'wolf name'. It's a special name that their elders give them when they first transform. A special potion is made from rare plants, crushed up gemstones and werewolf blood that then has a spell cast upon it. This potion is then partially drunk and then the other is used to make the tattoo the forms the wolf name. Another tattoo is placed over it to hide the rest of the tattoo. When the werewolf wants to transform, they focus their magical energies through their tattoo, recite their wolf name and then their entire body dissolves into the ether to reform as their lupine shape."

"Whoa..."

Russ nodded sagely. "Yep. Werewolves are very spiritual people. They have a deep connection to the Emerglade, another little plane different from Heaven and Hell. Very close to nature. Lots of green. A werewolf has to undergo a long trial before they can actually manifest their lupine forms on Earth. They go into a trance, enter the Emerglade and there, they slowly reforge their souls to resemble the wolf that they want to become. They exist simultaneously on both realms and when they need to take on their lupine forms, they bring the shape they have forged on the Spirit Realm to Earth. Similarly, they can become physical on the Emberglade should they please, becoming more powerful than any other Spirit there."

Flash drank all the information in, his tail wagging. As a fan of the occult he was very interested in the truths behind all the myths he had grown up reading about. Russ continued to explain how werewolves were inherently very powerful with magic as a result of their deep connection with their souls and the Emerglade. They could sense emotional auras to a lesser degree than demons but were much stronger than the average human. They were also ageless.

"Are they immortal?" Flash asked.

Russ shook his head. "No. They can die. Silver can actually harm them because it is a metal that is inherently close to the Emerglade as well. Silver deposits exist on both realms just like werewolves and that's why it can be deadly to werewolves. However, you'll never see a grey-haired werewolf unless that werewolf was converted when they had grey hairs."

"Damn..." Flash crawled up to Russ, sitting beside him with bright, shining eyes. "What about vampires?"

"Actually just Blood Mages," answered the hellhound. "I have no idea where this association with bats came around. I think Bram Stoker had something to do with that. But real vampires are just people who have learned how to harness the power in people's blood."

"What power does blood have?"

"It's a person's life and is tied to their very existence. Vampires have learned how to read people's entire pasts, emotions and sometimes even their futures through blood. On top of that, they can harness the power of blood to make themselves stronger. Pumping enough blood into certain organs can strengthen them. Stemming the flow of blood out of a wound can prevent blood loss. They can even use its power to grant them a degree of 'immortality'."

Flash shuddered. "I never liked vampires."

That made the bigger hellhound laugh. "They'll actually make for some of the best companions you'll meet. They're brilliant medical doctors and have some of the brightest minds in the world. And they're not smug about it either. Yes, they're stronger than the average mortal but knowing that there are creatures out there without blood that can crush you or that can drain your very soul before you even cast the first spell... Well, it's kind of humbling."

Flash grinned at that comment. "You mean like us."

Russ rolled his eyes and wrapped an arm around Flash's broad shoulders. "Yes, angels and demons are generally on the top of the food chain. We can exist on any plane. Suck people dry of their very free will and change their physical forms to our will. The only thing stronger than us is those of our kind that are bigger and stronger."

"And God. Right?"

"Well that goes without question," Russ snickered.

"And... the No Ones?" Flash ventured. Russ' features instantly turned sour and he looked away. "Come on!" Flash pleaded, gripping the bigger hellhound's arm. "Every time they're mentioned, you get all growly. What are they really like? You said they're kind of outside the normal rules, right? What's that about?"

Russ took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "They aren't bad. Just... not entirely good either. They will elevate a serial killer to become a god if they learn some heartfelt lesson. They will obliterate the most righteous and pious man in the world if they refuse to learn that very same lesson and their stories just reach a dead end. Add to that the fact that they have a bloody army of god-like beings behind them..." Russ growled and shut his eyes. "Had... _Had_an army."

Flash was just utterly puzzled. "What are you talking about?"

In an attempt to calm himself, Russ lifted his arm from around Flash's shoulders and crossed it across his chest. The gesture left Flash feeling a little cold. "Long ago, everyone was bound to this magical symbol. It was like the cornerstone of all existence. Doesn't matter what dimension you were in. At the heart of it, was this thing. The No Ones realised this was a vulnerability. They needed to make sure that if this symbol was ever threatened, no one would get hurt. But the problem was, every living thing was bound to this bloody thing and the dimensions really had no owners to pull it away from the Ultimate Seal.

"So, what the No Ones ended up doing was, one by one, they worked with every soul in existence and gave them their own realities but only if they earned it. I'm talking about people getting their own worlds. Their own dimensions."

"They became gods?" Flash asked, blinking in surprise. "They let them create their own universes?"

Russ nodded sombrely. "Yeah. So when the people of that reality were all safely spirited away into their own worlds, there was no risk for that universe to collapse. They never directly interfered with affairs but sometimes their hands were forced. Sometimes, very evil people would rise and would threaten the entire universe or at least the living population. Because they're neutral, they just sat by and let people die and then their boss, the Master of Reincarnation himself, would work with the souls and put them in other realities outside the influence of the Ultimate Seal to make sure they were safe."

Russ snorted loudly. "I hear there's some selfish reason for his actions as well but apparently he's gotten what he wanted..." The big hellhound shut his eyes and sighed. "Anyway, it was thankless and supposedly endless work. The only time an entire reality would crumble is if something catastrophic would happen. They wouldn't save it. But at the same time, they had the balls to pass judgement on some realities for one reason or another."

"What reason?"

A soft begrudging grumble escaped the hellhound. "If it threatened another one... Apparently, I've heard that some realities mastered interdimensional travel and sometimes they would take slaves, conquer or even just siphon off energy into their own world. That pissed off the No Ones and trust me, even gods can't destroy realities as quickly as they do. Sometimes I think they enjoy it..."

Russ' mood wasn't improving and Flash was tempted to drop the subject but as someone curious in the occult, he was very interested in the No Ones. "But they saved the souls, right?"

"They did..." Russ muttered grumpily. "Anyway, they got everyone out of the 'first generation' realities so the Ultimate Seal no longer holds us under its sway. I hear they destroyed it or something. I don't know. All I know is that now they're sort of a 'consultation agency'. When gods get stuck, they pop in and help. They only help when they're asked."

Flash inclined his head to the side slightly. "Sounds like they're actually pretty decent people... Why are you so mad at them?"

"Because why didn't I get my happy ending!?" Russ bellowed angrily. "Why didn't Virgil!?" He threw his paws into the air angrily. "Haven't I been through enough!? Didn't Virgil literally_go through Hell and back and still used his gifts to help people!? Why didn't he get _his own reality!? Why didn't I!?"

Stunned by the sudden outburst, Flash could only flinch away in surprise. Even though he couldn't see emotions as well as Dante, the frustration, anger and heartbreak that Russ felt was just too thick not to see. The swelling of emotions was almost enough to physically push Flash away but the determined hellhound still managed to reach out and set his paw against Russ' leg.

"What makes you think he didn't?" he asked softly.

"Because he and I are Soul Bound!" Russ roared. "I may not know exactly what he's thinking but I can feel it when he's in pain, when he's suffering, when he's missing me and when he wants me there beside him!" The legendary demon took several deep breaths and realised the concerned stare that Flash was giving him. He brought his rage down to a simmer.

"Look Flash," he said softly. "Death is not final. Only when a soul is utterly destroyed do we ever truly die. Even when Virgil 'died', his soul was still free to be judged since it had never been judged before. Whether or not he's in Heaven, Hell or some other astral plane, I can't tell but I know he's still around and he's not happy because I'm not there with him. I know that sounds selfish but..." He pressed a paw against his chest, just over his heart. "That is what I feel from our bond. It just seems unfair that someone who has done their bidding, who was kind, generous and selfless and used his gift only for others didn't get the chance to rule their own world as a god."

Russ turned away from Flash, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and turning his back to the younger hellhound. "I honestly don't care if I don't get to be there with him. It'd hurt if he found someone else or he found true happiness with someone other than me but if he's happy, that'd be enough for me."

"But he's not happy... is he?" Flash ventured cautiously.

"No. No he's not..."

Another fact that compounded to Flash's increasing levels of doubt about being mated to anyone. On some level, it was sweet that Russ and Virgil shared so much together and loved one another so much that they traded part of their souls but distance and death of one party or the other led to only so much pain. Could he really find himself bonded to another soul like that?

"You said Virgil asked you to take care of us once he's gone..." Flash asked softly. "What will you do once... once we can take care of ourselves?"

Russ took in some air sharply, almost a hiss. "I don't know."

But Flash did know. Russ was going to find some way to be with Virgil again. If that meant storming the Gates of Heaven or barrelling through Hell, he would march up to whoever was in charge and demand to see Virgil. The terrible thing was, Flash didn't want Russ to leave them. Ever. But he didn't feel that it was right for him to ask someone who had helped them so much to sacrifice his one true love for them.

Pushing down his own feelings, Flash rested a paw on Russ' shoulders. It was just an innocent gesture. Something to tell his mentor that he would support him no matter what. What came next was an utter surprise.

Russ turned around and suddenly lunged forward, his lips pressing up against Flash's. The contact sent an electric shock through Flash's entire body and his cock quickly started filling up with blood. The heat of arousal washed throughout his entire body and all the pent up demonic cum he had been holding back since his encounter with the Deception Demons began bubbling in his balls, ready to burst.

The moan from Russ told him the big hellhound wasn't just acting out of lust. Russ' big paw rested against Flash's chest, rubbing the firm pectorals there and slowly sliding beneath his jacket, edging it off the crimson demon's shoulders. Flash was just going to let him do it but then he remembered...

... Dante.

Flash pulled away, biting his lower lip.

Russ' eyes were wide in horror.

"I... I need to go," muttered the legendary hellhound.

Flash didn't say anything as Russ got off the bed and hurried out of the room. When the door shut, he looked down at his own dick and growled at it.

"Fucking traitor."

******

Buck Goldman was never one sit idly by when he saw something was wrong. If there was an issue, he would fix it with whatever resources he had on hand. It was this enthusiasm and drive for perfection that had gotten him his first job, sent him rising up the corporate ladder before eventually becoming the head of the company itself. Eventually, he dissolved that company because it did not grow. It was idle, static and even_cancerous_. Yes it caused a lot of people to lose their jobs but they weren't doing anything with their talents or those that did do something, weren't furthering themselves. They were sitting in the cushiony chairs, lounging about living day by day without making any progress.

Content. Unambitious. Lazy.

The way he saw it, he was enabling them to better themselves.

He used the funds he had obtained from the dissolution to make his own company from scratch and now he was wealthy enough that he had a lavished home in a quiet town. He could've easily become the secret hand running the entire town if it weren't for Virgil De Mont, the eccentric but well-liked former adventurer who had been just as wealthy as he was. Perhaps not on a monetary level but in friends, family and the general adoration of the public.

Buck was always secretly jealous of Virgil's public standing but he never had the time to socialise. He was generally too busy running his empire. He never had time for his family either. It was that sort of 'neglect' that caused his wife to divorce him. She said she would rather live in poverty than suffer his cold shoulder for another day. His sons had stayed with him though and he provided for them even if it was for a distance.

Even though not all of them were always responsible with that money.

Just thinking of Richard and his latest escapades gave him a headache. His eldest son lived the privileged, spoiled lifestyle that he had hoped to avoid for his children. But sadly, 'Dick' as he preferred to be called, hadn't taken that lesson very well. His son's latest escapade had led him being kicked out of California where he retreated to Angelton in the hopes of laying low for a while before he went somewhere else to cause mayhem with all the money Buck had earned.

Upon hearing this, Buck had dropped everything and hurried off in the hopes of cutting off his son and giving him some parenting he sorely needed. He had actually managed to corner Dick while his eldest son was playing with a big, black dildo. Not the most encouraging sight or the best situation to give someone some tough love but knowing his busy schedule, Buck had to dish out his parenting as quickly as he could. They parted on angry terms with Buck reminding Dick that it was his money that the reckless fool was playing with and Dick retorting that Buck had no right to be the parent now when he hadn't been there for when the kids were growing up.

They had both retreated to their respective rooms to stew in their anger. Buck swore that he would do something to shape up Dick.

But he never got the chance.

The earthquakes had hit and... well... Buck was forever changed.

He had lied to his sons that he had been in the Emerald Ring after the first series of quakes. He was glad that he hadn't been there when the tremors hit the hotel. In reality, he was staying at a good friend's house. As much as he didn't like the idea of using another person's resources as a crutch, Ethan Killian was very much like him and was his personal trainer. They had known each other for years especially when Buck was just starting out. When he became rich enough to buy the majority of Ethan's time, Ethan pounced on the chance; a real go-getter that one.

With all the money that Buck spent on Ethan, his friend could afford a quaint, single story house in the middle of Angelton's woods, near the mountains within the 'rich district' of the sleepy town. There was a tennis court, a swimming pool and a garage big enough to fit the two big SUVs that Ethan loved carting around town. It was close enough to the Goldman mansion that Ethan could easily drive there within five minutes but far enough that it hadn't been hit hard by the quakes that had originated from the mansion. At the moment, the burly personal trainer was out on one of his nature hikes, something he liked to do from time to time and often invited Buck to attend.

But Buck did not feel like joining him. Buck would gladly lift weights and run on a treadmill but trudging around in the woods was just not something he enjoyed. Besides, Buck had been taking the time Ethan took on his nature hikes to learn about his new... condition.

He entered the large, Spartan guest room that Ethan had given him and settled himself on the big, queen sized bed. The sun was spraying through the broad, glass windows that had a perfect view of the swimming pool and the tennis courts. There was a door beside the windows that would've allowed him to head straight to the back should he want. The only things adorning the rest of the room was a footlocker, an inbuilt closet and a large entertainment shelf with a flat screen TV sitting dead on the centre with piles upon piles of old movies stacked in the compartments. Ethan always did love his movies.

Especially horror movies.

Buck personally hated horror movies. They were a waste of time for him; cheap jump scares, loud noises, suspenseful music or eerie silence and most of the time, unbelievable monsters and scenarios... It just never seemed realistic to him. Then again, it seemed that he was living in his own horror movie these days.

It had been a whole week since his first... transformation.

He remembered it so vividly.

It started with the silver pocket watch that was sitting at the centre of his bed back at his mansion; the very same pocket watch that he now fished out of the locked footlocker, buried beneath all of his clothing. His skin tingled when his fingers brushed against its smooth, polished surface. The energy emanating from it caressed his very soul and he found his dick getting harder and harder the more he thought about it. He was no idea where it had come from but it called out to him, reached out to his very essence.

He hated to admit it but the sensation was simply incredible and for the past few days since he had moved in with Ethan, he had been taking every opportunity to trigger the transformation in him. And the key rested in his hands; the pocket watch.

Buck settled himself into the enormous bed, holding the pocket watch in his hands almost reverently. He looked past the watch at his reflection in the dark screen of the TV. He had a clear memory of who he had been before the transformation; a tall, lean man with all his muscle definition barely visible beneath layers of fat from company-provided donuts and too many coffees and energy drinks.

But now... He was an impressive 6 foot, muscular man that he had always wanted to be. His forearms were incredibly meaty and could barely fit in the arms of his suits anymore. Each bicep was at least 16 inches big and that wasn't counting the mass of his triceps. He remembered looking at his broad, muscled back for the first time, a tanned canvas of hills, perfectly shaped shadows and symmetry. Then there was his chest! He had always been so jealous of Ethan's... what was it that they called it... 'roid gut'? Even as a personal trainer, Ethan was a bodybuilder at heart and though he had the incredible mass of a monster, he wasn't quite as lean as a supermodel. Some men would consider a perfectly chiselled set of abs to be sexy but in Buck's mind, the epitome of health was a big, burly man with a solid chest, huge arms, massive legs and a stomach that didn't suggest organ shrinkage and malnutrition.

And honestly, he liked cream stuffed donuts too much.

And now, he looked down at the slight belly he had, hidden beneath his plain, white shirt. He tensed his stomach and ran a hand against the fabric, feeling his rock hard abs against just beneath the layers of fat. A soft groan left his lips as he felt his cock throbbed beneath his shorts. He never used to wear shorts before but since his transformation, his thick calves and thighs simply could not fit in any of the pants he had managed to salvage from his mansion without walking around like he had a stick up his ass. Ethan also only had shorts. There was something arousing about wearing another man's clothes, so much so that Buck had yet to buy his own pair.

Conscious about those very same clothes, Buck slipped off his shorts and underwear, taking the time to fold them in a semi-neat pile and setting it on the floor. He then pulled off his shirt, still gripping the watch tightly. Warmth emanated from the artefact, seeping up through his arm and reaching his heart, touching his very soul.

He lay naked on the bed, sweat running all over his smooth, tanned flesh. Every muscle on his body was already tense and sore like he had just gone two hours through one of Ethan's punishing regiments. Still, he wanted more. There was a rush of power and strength that coursed through his veins that he just did _not_want to stop. He groaned, toes curling in delight as his eleven inch dick throbbed and began to twist against his belly.

Panting, Buck regarded his penis with a fascination that never died even after the first few times he had transformed. The length of his dick suddenly surged, throbbing and twitching in ways that any human member shouldn't. It squirmed left and right like an angry snake, precum seeping out of the slit in copious amounts. Just a little over a week ago, he had a perfectly cut dick but now, his foreskin wrapped completely around the head of his bulbous dick, pulling back and forth like he was flexing a muscle. Loud squishing noises like warm steaks being slapped against one another filled his ears.

Despite the strange transformation, Buck could only watch with a big grin on his face as the dick slithered up his chest, rolling over the mount of his roid gut, inching closer and closer toward his lips. With every few inches that the cock got, it gained another in girth. His eyes widened in awe as he felt the second stage of his member's transformation start to kick in. He could feel something warm and slick slithering inside his length. The loud, sloshing noises grew louder, his dick flexing over and over again and sending wave after wave of pleasure throughout his entire body.

For the briefest of moments, something pink and fleshy slipped out of his dick's slit. With a grin, he watched as a long, slick, drooling length slivered out of his cock, coiling in the air like a cobra ready to strike. Buck quivered as the meaty, pointed organ_tasted_ the air around him, detecting things that both confused and aroused him at the same time. He could taste the frustration of the builders as they put this place together, the loneliness of Ethan as he regarded the empty room and even the lies that the salesman had pitched to Ethan to get the mattress sold. It all made Buck lick his lips with his own tongue. He quivered at the tongue emerging from his monster dick gently caressed his cheek, urging him to keep the change going.

He had no intention of stopping. But knowing how destructive he could be in the throes of the transformation, he wrapped the pocket watch around his wrist, using the chain as a band. Just as his finished, his entire hand seized up, all the fingers going rigid. A grin crossed his features. His palms lost the supple, smooth texture of a man who only ever lifted weight for the gym and became black and leathery. His fingernails lengthened, transforming into jet black blades meant for shredding flesh. His bones cracked as they grew, his knuckles bulging out and stretching his skin taut until his entire hand was big enough to crush an average man's head with ease. Thick, orange fur to match his naturally bright orange hair began spreading from his knuckles, seeping all over his skin save for the leathery palms. He loved the power such a paw gave him and he clenched it into a fist, pumping the demonic corruption further into his blood stream.

His forearms lengthened just as they broadened, thick muscles growing beneath his skin. For a moment, thick veins pulsed beneath his skin, pressing up his flesh. The sight disgusted him. Vascular men creped him right the fuck out. However, much to his relief, a layer of fat gently eased the hard creases of his veins, leaving enough to be tasteful but not making him look like a freak. He eased back into the bed, letting out a soft, content rumbling as his arm bulged and grew, becoming a perfect balance of size and mass. Only a single vein ran down his enormous, watermelon sized biceps but it ran the entire length of his arm, rolling over his huge, bowling ball deltoids and disappearing into his thickening chest.

As the cleft of his pectorals became more and more pronounced, his enormous dick slivered up the mound, becoming more than six feet in length with about half that for its incredible tongue. New nerves and muscles grew all over his dick, giving him an incredibly warm sensation as more and more of his precum poured down his chest, encouraging the thick orange fur to start sprouting all over his body. With his newfound prehensile control over his penis, he let it slither off his chest. He grinned as he lifted his right leg and leg his dick wind around it like a snake. As it reached his foot, he gently licked the soles of his feet with his secondary tongue. The amazing sensation caused his entire limb to tingle, triggering the change all over his leg.

He bit his lower lip, trying not to cry out too loudly as his thighs bulged out, muscles pressing up against his skin before slowly being smoothed by fur and fat. The length of his limbs increased rapidly, his feet sliding off the foot of the bed until the back of his knees rested at an angle over the edge. The growth seemed to drag his dick with it, adding more and more to the already monstrous length of his ever-thickening member. Taking the queue of the mass increase of his legs, his member added on the girth, veins popping up against the length of the fleshy tube. Buck had to release his leg from the grip of what had become like a third leg and led the enormous member flop over the edge of his bed. It was twice as long as he was and just about as thick as his entire torso!

To match the enormous member, his balls began to gurgle and grow bigger and bigger. They outsized his legs, forcing him to widen his stance. The base of the titanic snake springing from his thick furry crotch seemed to sit on a cushion made entire of his huge testicles, each one the size of one of those ridiculous yoga balls that Ethan had in his home gym.

Buck groaned as the rest of the transformation began stretching his entire body to its full size. As all the times that he had transformed before, the bed could barely hold his mass. It groaned beneath his titanic ten foot size. He shut his eyes slowly, a smile crossing his features as the gentle warmth of the change seeped across his neck and face. The constant throbbing of his funnelled through his neck, pushing it out and causing his voice box to thicken. His voice dropped several octaves, becoming a barely audible, deep rumble. At the same time, the warmth pumped into his face, pushing his lips out into the broad muzzle that he had grown accustomed to. He began panting, his tongue lengthening and flattening, certainly nothing as large as the one springing from his dick but still quite long.

He allowed himself a lusty moan as the transformation completed, a soft howl rising from his lips. He basked in the warmth of the change before slowly opening his eyes. He smiled at his reflection in the TV screen. Where Buck Goldman, millionaire entrepreneur and father of three and lain, now there was an enormous muscle-gut wolf-man with thick, orange fur and a softer orange fur across his belly to form a crest. Springing from between his legs was a pair of huge balls contained within a furry sack. Just above that, an enormous human-like dick slithered out and coiled all over the floor.

Buck smirked as he deftly controlled his dick, guiding it around the room and quivering as the carpet brushed across the sensitive flesh. Even though the member looked flaccid, Buck knew he was just at his semi-erect form. When he was fully erect, he would've covered the entire room with his dick from floor to ceiling. He groaned softly as his cock slithered back to him and he gripped its drooling head in his paws. The long tongue emerged from the fleshy slit and slipped between his lips.

God the taste of his own precum was a turn on.

He groaned. It took a monumental effort to guide his dick away from his lips and just leave it across his broad, muscled gut with a set of abs gently framed against the mound. It would take a few more hours before Ethan got home. So that afforded Buck some time to enjoy his form for a little longer. Physically moving would be difficult, however, not that he wanted to.

He was very content where he was.

With a smile on his lips, took stock of his transformation, checking the time. It had been four minutes and fifty-six seconds since he began. Getting better every day. And this time, he hadn't shouted out in ecstasy, shaking the entire house. Luckily, the last time that happened, he managed to explain it as a faint quake especially since a few of Ethan's dishes had been smashed.

"Getting better..." he rumbled contently, rubbing the head of his cock affectionately. The sensation caused his entire body to quiver and want to cum but he knew that wasn't a good idea. The first time he had transformed, it had been in his mansion. His sudden increase in weight had sent him hurtling into the basement where he had creamed the entire wine cellar with his faintly orange spunk. The second time he changed, he had dared to venture back into the ruined mansion and found his basement... changed. The sight of it had aroused the beast inside of him and that was where he changed next.

That was also when he decided that he needed to control this thing.

He could use it to his advantage somehow.

It was a Friday. None of the construction workers trying to rebuild his mansion would be there tomorrow. He made a mental note that he'd go back there and see what he could do about the mess he made. Maybe cover it up somehow...

But for the moment, Buck just closed his eyes, a smile on his face.

The big Sloth Demon began to let out soft snores as he drifted into sleep.

******

It was the first full day of school Dante De Mont had for the entire week. After the multiple earthquakes and demonic invasions, Dante was a little relieved to be back into some semblance of normality. Even simple things like taking the bus home instead of jumping into Russ' hybrid or running the entire distance gave him some comfort. It did remind him, however, that his father, Shaun, was still missing.

But that was hardly a new story around Angelton.

Some very strange things were going on in town. People just up and left for some reason or another. There were reports of eerie, smokeless fires in the woods north of the town near where the Emerald Ring had been hit by the latest quake. The vegetation around south eastern side of town had apparently grown very thick that the woods were almost impassable. Some of the mayor's men had put up signs to prevent people from venturing in. No one dared venture out at night anymore and Angelton's minimalistic nightlife had taken a dive.

Hardly surprising considering there were still eight other demons running around.

Well... technically eleven if Dante counted himself, Flash and Russ.

He stepped into the bus and looked up at the bus driver.

"Hey Dorian," he greeted.

The tall, athletic driver of Asian descent beamed at him, showing perfectly straight teeth. His strong build was barely contained by his blue uniform to the point where he actually had to roll up his sleeves up to his biceps, showing off his beefy, vascular limbs. There was a black cloth wrapped around his right bicep, something that caught Dante's attention.

"What's that?" he asked.

"Oh this?" Dorian asked, pointing at the scarf, his mood a little sombre. "Kind of a little memorial for all those people that had all the stuff happen them over the past few week." He looked into the rest of the bus. It was packed as all the schools had returned to full attendance. There was a thick aura of black despair all over them except for Dorian who shone with a brilliant white aura of hope.

The driver switched on the radio nice and loud, causing a few of the pensive students to look up and smile.

"Well, take a seat, my man," Dorian said with a grin and hiking his thumb at the rest of the bus. "I'll make your trip home as enjoyable as possible."

"Thanks," Dante murmured. He found his usual seat and was hit by yet another pang of loneliness as he realised that Edward would have been sitting next to him by then. But he wouldn't be occupying a bus seat from Hell... Or maybe he would... The image of Edward's part-wolf, part-snake form driving a bright yellow school bus through the fiery pits of Hell made him smile.

"Hope you're doing better than I am, Ed," he murmured softly. "At least you still have your dad."

Someone suddenly gave him a hard shove, sending him toppling into the seat. He instinctively whirled around and snarled, baring his teeth. Todd Cumming's handsome, supermodel features instantly turned into one of apology and he held out his hand.

"Sorry man," Todd said. "Didn't see you there."

"How could you not see me?" Dante growled, taking the big footballer's hand. Todd easily pulled him back to his feet.

"Just... preoccupied recently," Todd muttered. He offered Dante a clearly forced smile. "I thought you'd be taking another ride from Flash. Aren't you two dating now?"

Dante's eyes widened and he immediately sat down on the empty chair, dragging Todd down with him. "Who told you that!?" he hissed softly between his teeth.

"Uh... Flash did," Todd replied, confusion showing through his blue eyes. "Why? Aren't you?"

"Well... yeah but..." He glanced around, looking for anyone who might be trying to take advantage of the information. He _was_still in high school, after all, and even though he could take care of himself, he was still very conscious about who knew that he was in a homosexual relationship with the star quarterback.

"Dude, don't worry about it," Todd laughed. "You're huge! Flash is even bigger! No one would dare pick on you for being gay. Not even that asshole, Wesley Washington." He grinned and pressed a thumb against his big, plump pecs. "And hey, if they do, they'll have to deal with me too!"

Remembering that he was now a six foot plus stud with the body of a young bodybuilder took a few more seconds and he offered Todd a shake smile. "Right... Thanks." Thinking of Wesley, he hadn't seen that punk bully in school and he mentally groaned at the idea of having to do their team project alone. But that also brought to mind the artefact that he had given Todd. "Hey, I know Flash already asked you but you remember that mirror that my grandpa gave me that I gave you?"

"Yeah," Todd muttered and gave Dante a helpless shrug. "Sorry. I kind of lost it. I've got a lot of sisters. My stuff tends to disappear fairly easily unless it's dirty, clearly masculine or covered in cum."

Dante lifted his eyebrow at the last remark.

"Sisters won't touch anything with cum on it. Trust me. Even mom will use the tongs."

"Riiiight..." Dante muttered. He decided not to mention that for a demon like himself, cum was very precious and he would gladly touch anything with cum on it. He'd probably even eat it... "Well, thanks anyway, Todd."

He turned away, gazing out the window as the bus started. That Todd actually stayed beside him, drumming his fingers against the seat surprised him. He frowned slightly and glanced over to Flash's best friend.

"Erm... don't you have other football players to chat with or something?" he asked. "Not to be rude or anything but... you've just never sat beside me before."

Todd shrugged and gave him a million dollar smile. "Hey, Flash is my best friend. Been friends since we were in elementary. If you're his boyfriend, then I feel like I've fucked you too."

Memories of their first night together made Dante blush. "Uh... That's not... exactly how things are..."

Todd's eyes widened and he suddenly leaned forward, their noses an inch from one another. "You're kidding me! Flash is a bottom!"

Suddenly very conscious about not only his reputation but also Flash's, Dante shook his head furiously and slammed a palm against Todd's lips. "No! That's not it! We haven't really... well..." They had done something kinky the first night they transformed but whether or not that was real or just the medallion he wore was still up for debate. Regardless, ever since that day, they hadn't really been that intimate with one another. Perhaps a few cuddles here and there but apart from that...

"We've only known each other like_that_ for a week..." Dante said softly, pulling his hand away. "He's set up a date for tomorrow but..." He gave Todd a lopsided smile. "I'm honestly not sure how I feel about it. It's very... sudden..."

There was a look of understanding in Todd's eyes as he leaned back in the bus seat. "I guess I can understand. First time I got involved with someone, I was scared as hell."

"You?" Dante repeated in disbelief. "Big, cocky Todd Cummings? _You_were nervous?"

"Hey, you're not born this awesome." Todd jabbed a thumb against his chest. His confidence deflated a little. "I know this will sound really stupid and arrogant of me but it's tough staying at the top. I got to keep working out. Can't let a single shred of body fat bleed into this ripped bod. Gotta be the best at what I do. Can't let anyone get the better of me. Kinda means I have to keep my eyes on everyone else. I'm always a little scared that someone will drop kick me and I won't be at the top anymore."

Dante, who had always languished in the middle of the social ladder of high school - not openly ridiculed but not popular either - never knew that being popular could be such a... chore. "I never knew..."

Todd took a deep breath and let it out softly. "Yeah well... People got to work if they want to get anywhere, right? Well..." He rolled his eyes. "Flash didn't. His dad is loaded."

"But his dad is never around," Dante murmured softly. "Whenever we bring up the topic of dads, he's always really... growly about it."

A bright, friendly laugh left Todd's lips. "That's Flash for ya." He threw an arm around Dante's shoulder in a friendly manner and shook him lightly. "Take it from me. If there's ever any awkward silences, just bring up the topic of his dad. He'll go on a rant for a solid hour."

Realising that sitting beside him was a possible source of insight into his mate, Dante grinned and nudged Todd with his elbow lightly in a very manly gesture that he wasn't sure he was doing right. "What else do you know that'll piss Flash off?"

"You want to tick off your boyfriend?"

"The opposite. I want to avoid those topics."

Todd grinned at him and leaned back into the seat. "Well, Dante my man, you should probably know by now that you should never talk about Dick."

Dante sensed that was meant to be a lead in to a joke of some sort; perhaps Todd was expecting him to say something along the lines of 'but we're gay. We have to talk about dicks'. "His oldest brother. Right."

There was a pang of disappointment in Todd's aura at the comment and Dante knew he was right. "Yeah. Flash just sort of shuts up really quickly about him when the topic is brought up. He doesn't like talking about him either. He's really passionate about his twin though, Flint."

For the entire bus ride, Dante listened to all that Todd had to say about Flash; likes, dislikes, pet peeves, hobbies and whatever else. Todd admitted that he always suspected that Flash was gay but after his twin came out to their dad and Buck Goldman started treating Flint with some distance and showering his jock son with more attention - at least by Buck's standards - Flash may have found reason to remain in the closet.

Despite coming off as somewhat self-centred, Todd appeared to actually be very observant. He mentioned how Flash used to have longer hair but when Flint came out, he had it cut somewhat shorter because he must've associated longer hair with being 'girly'. When Dick got a nipple piercing and a tattoo, Flash endeavoured to maintain his 'clean cut, All-American' appearance even going so far as to sign up for the football team even though he never showed any signs of interest in the game before.

When asked if Flash actually liked football now, Todd shrugged and said that Flash was good at doing his best when he sets his mind to a task. He may not like the task but if he buckled down and focused on it, he could be great at it.

"Wow, you really know a lot about him," Dante murmured. "Kind of makes me feel like I'm stealing him from you..."

Todd bumped shoulders with him and grinned. "Just a little. But he's my bro. Getting all up inside of him like that... Yeah, my mind refuses to picture that." Then a devious grin crossed his features and he leaned down close to Dante, their noses almost touching. "Now you on the other hand..."

Dante's eyes boggled and he let out a garbled mess of half-words especially as Todd's hand began running up under his shirt and against his abs. A soft squeak left his lips prompting Todd to pull back and let out a bright laugh.

"Oh man! You should've seen your face!"

Blushing furiously, Dante sat up and huffed loudly. "Not funny..." Though he had to admit, in retrospect, it was a_little_ funny. The more he thought about it, the more he found himself fighting a smile.

"Sorry dude!" Todd laughed. "Couldn't resist!" He beamed down at Dante but that smile quickly faded. "Huh... this is my stop." He eyed Dante worried. "Don't you get off a stop earlier than I do?"

Dante's eyes widened for a second time. "Oh shit! You're right!" He bolted out of his seat and hurried to the front of the bus just as Dorian pulled to a stop, Todd right behind him. He thanked the friendly bus driver and scampered onto the street, trying to get his bearings.

Rosewood Street. It was just a couple of blocks away from his home. It wouldn't take that long to get back to his home and then make the trek back to Russ' home deep in the woods. Really he wasn't too concerned about the time it would take to get back to the little hide out of Hell. With his demonic abilities, it wouldn't take more than half an hour or so. But the point of getting off at his usual stop was to keep up appearances. He needed to ensure that people saw him heading home to hide the fact that his father had gone missing and every house on the street had been filled with web-like cum.

"You want a ride back to your place?" Todd asked. "I can ask my mom to give you a lift?"

Dante's alarm bells began ringing and he quickly shook his head. "I don't want to be a bother." He turned back to Todd with a smile. "Besides, I think I need some fresh air. Some time to myself, you know? You've given me a lot to think about."

The stunningly handsome jock gave him a smile, flashing his perfect teeth that Dante could've sworn were made of pearls. He still preferred Flash's cute lopsided smile especially as a hellhound; that little twist of his muzzle on one side that revealed his fangs and his large canine flashing like a diamond.

The image painted in his mind sent Dante's heart a flutter and he bid Todd a good evening. Todd shrugged and offered to exchange numbers just in case he got lost. It occurred to Dante that he hadn't exchanged phone numbers with Flash, not that they really needed to these days as they spent so much time with one another. But clearly not enough that they had traded phone numbers. It seemed so irrelevant in the grand scheme of things but for some reason, Dante felt it was an important part of their relationship...

Once he had Todd's phone number and Todd his own, they parted ways, each heading in a different direction. A block or two away and when Dante was sure no one was spying on him, he broke into a steady run. He picked up speed rapidly, becoming a blur of movement. The world just passed by in a flash but his keen, demonic eyes and sharp mind collected all the all the information zipping past him at supernatural speeds. He could see and process every bit of scenery quickly and efficiently. He could see the stop sign on the corner of the street, he noticed the frightened cat that ducked beneath a house when he passed and he could even detect the flash of puzzlement from an elderly woman as he flew past her and she dismissed it as just a passing gust of wind.

Within fifteen minutes, he was zooming into the thick woods to the south of Angelton, the 'rich district' as it came to be colloquially known. In another ten, he was bolting up the Russ' driveway and speeding around the back. The wards Russ had erected were invisible to the human eye but to him, it appeared as a thick, reddish film rising around the house in a broad circle. As he slipped past it, he felt a faint tingle on his skin.

He slowed down and trotted up the rear patio. Through the glass doors, he could see Flash hard at work pumping his muscles using 200 pound dumbbells that Dante was pretty sure were custom made. There was no way those were stock standard in gyms. Dante indulged himself in some voyeuristic pleasure as he watched his handsome, crimson and cream hellhound mate lifting pumping iron. He cock rumbled with desire and he was brought back to that magical evening when he had entered Flash for the first time. As much as he wanted to recreate that evening, he still remembered that time just before the fought Edward and his Pride Demons when Flash growled at him for just touching his dick against the other hellhound's ass.

Dante sighed softly and pushed aside the sliding door, stepping inside. There was no use lying to a demon. Especially after they had just fought a bunch of Deception Demons. Flash looked up from what must have been his fiftieth rep. Dante rolled his shoulders and dissolved his clothing in a flurry of black feathers. The use of magic always tended to trigger his demonic side and he didn't stop himself from shredding the human disguise and padding over to his mate as a full hellhound.

He gently knelt beside Flash and rested his head on his mate's lap.

"Is... Is something wrong, Dante?" Flash asked softly. He set down the weight, the enormous dumbbells hitting the padded floor with a slam. His fingers gently scratching Dante behind his ears made the jet black hellhound's tail wag.

"I just feel a little bummed..." Dante muttered admitted.

"Something happen while you were heading home?"

"I just spoke to Todd."

Flash's eyes widened and the grip of fear touched his aura. "Did... Is he...?"

Dante shook his head. "I don't know. I couldn't really read much off him. Just a lot of fear and his usual pride. There was a little bit of jealousy there but when he told me how he has to constantly stay on top to be as popular as he is, it sort of made sense. Didn't get any strong vibes of being a demon from him. But that's not what's got me down."

"Then what does?" Flash let out a soft whine, indicating his concern.

Dante lifted his gaze towards his mate. "We... We really haven't been... intimate with one another since a week ago."

In that instant, Flash's paw recoiled away from the back of Dante's head. "Oh... Right... Well... It's not that I want to just... Erm..."

"We don't really know each other that much..." Dante finished. He sat on his haunches and summoned his phone in his paw, the device appearing in a flurry of black feathers and smoke. "I know... I mean, all I really know about you is that you're nice, loyal and are fascinated by the occult." He turned his gaze back towards Flash. "What do you know about me?"

Flash's cheeks began to turn bright red despite his crimson fur and Dante felt his heart start to sink. A faint croaking emerged from the bigger hellhound's throat like he was dying... which he might as well have been.

"Erm..." Flash had to clear his throat. "For lunch every day, you always buy a carton of milk even if you pack your lunch. Not sure why. Your favourite subject is science and math. You hate history and dropped it the first chance you got. You're afraid that you don't have a direction in your life and are just sort of doing subjects that will put you in any field. But you love computers and computer games. Edward got you into them. But you prefer the games where you play alone. Oh and you love hiking which you did with your grandpa."

Dante reeled back in surprise. That was rather... detailed. "You... Have you been reading my aura?"

"Well... I knew this before we turned into hellhounds." Flash gave him a lopsided grin. "Remember how I told you I always found you attractive...?"

Another possibility clicked into Dante's mind. "Were you stalking me?"

Flash held up his big paws. "What!? No! I..." Then he averted his gaze. "Okay... well... maybe a little." Before Dante could vocalise his surprise, Flash said, "But it's not what you think! It was harmless! I just asked the others around school about you, you know? I know that you're awesome in science and math because we were in the same classes freshman year and you were always on top. Oh and I take history and you're not there and I know how much you sucked at the subject."

"I was a B average!"

"But you got a few C's there," Flash pointed out with a smirk. "And okay, so maybe I kind of spy on you at lunch every day and I remember that one time you entered that shooter videogame tournament in school and made it to third place. You mentioned it wasn't your game as you liked single player games with story more. And you were always really excited when you were going hiking with your grandpa on the weekends. Couldn't get out of practice enough."

Suddenly, Dante felt like the guilty party for not bringing enough to the relationship. Here he was, claiming that they didn't know enough about one another and Flash knew a lot about him... even if the information was obtained in in a way akin to being a stalker. But he didn't know a lot about Flash.

"Now I just feel shitty..." he muttered softly, his arms slumping beside him in defeat. "You know all this stuff about me but I know next to nothing about you!"

Flash smiled at him and patted his leg. "Well we could start now."

Dante grimaced. "We're not really going to do this, are we?"

"Do you want to know more about me or not?"

Sighing, Dante shuffled over and set his muzzle down on Flash's lap, trying not to focus on the plump sheath just sitting a few inches away from his nose. "Okay well... What's your favourite colour?"

"Blue."

"Favourite food?"

"Anything Italian. As long as it has meat. I can't stand vegetarian Italian food. I don't care if you throw pumpkins on a pizza but if it has a slice of bacon on it, I'm good."

Dante grinned to himself and let out a soft laugh. "I should make you my spinach, mushroom, ricotta and prosciutto lasagne."

"You can cook?"

"Have to. My dad works and gets home about six in the evening. Mom used to teach me how to cook but when she left, I sort of just picked up where she left off. I clean the house while dad is still working. I make the meals. Dad does the shopping with me every week though."

"You never mentioned what happened to your mom..." Flash began tentatively.

"She left dad because she said he 'lost all his passion'. I think she wanted another kid but dad never consented."

"Sorry man..."

"It's okay. I'm over it. They left on good terms, sort of. I think she's living somewhere down south now with her new boyfriend. We don't talk much anymore." Dante shrugged as Flash resumed scratching him behind the ears. He let out a soft hum of contentment, tail gently thwacking against the floor. "What about your mom? She divorced your dad because he was working too hard, right?"

Flash puffed out his cheeks and let out the air in a long sigh. "Pretty much. She's off in Paris somewhere I think."

"What do you think she'd say if she found out you're a demon now?" Dante asked with a grin.

"Probably scream and blame my dad for neglect. I dunno. She's a bitch. An attention whore. I think she only loved the idea of having kids because of all the baby showers and time my dad actually spent fretting over her. She _loved_it when she had twins. But after the hype died down, she just sort of became a real bitch."

"I'm sorry," Dante murmured. He gently rubbed Flash's thigh to tell him that his feelings were genuine and that he was there for his mate. A soft smile touched Flash's lips at the contact. "Any hobbies you have?"

"Football," Flash answered immediately.

"That's a lie."

His mate flinched. "What? Why would it be a lie? I love football."

Dante gave him an exasperated look. "Come on, Flash. We just dealt with Deception Demons. Besides, Todd told me you weren't really interested in the game until Flint came out. You thought jumping into football would make you the _least_gay and you tried to be really good at it." He eyed his mate with a sly look. "Was that your attempt to say 'I'm too macho to be gay'?"

Flash blushed again and averted his gaze. "Look, when Flint came out it really wasn't a... ah... surprise to me. I think the family all knew but dad was in denial and Dick didn't care. But I'm his twin. I knew it was eating him up inside not being out and pretending to be straight. And... I guess...We grew up together, you know? And we're twins. We don't really look that much alike but... well... I guess I was curious... But when dad threw him into that Grammar School because he was afraid that being in an all-boys school would tempt him... I just kind of freaked. I didn't want to be treated different because of who I slept with."

Dante let out a soft chuckle and ran his paws along the back of Flash's leg, down his calves. "My dad was always pretty liberal. I think he'd still be a little surprised if I told him I was in love with a guy but I'm sure he'd be accepting about it." Dante made a puzzled face. "Honestly, I think he might not even really react that much. Your life is full of drama and family politics but mine... Well, it's pretty much like one day is the same as another. Sometimes, days just pass by without my noticing it. I think that's why grandpa wanted to give dad those trinkets. It'd spice up his life and make him more appreciative of the things he has. And this medallion..." He fingered the wolf-head medal hanging around his neck. "... it gave me a direction in my life."

"And what direction is that?"

It was Dante's turn to blush and he turned away, cheeks burning. "Oh come on... Don't make me say it..."

Flash grinned at him and leaned forward with a smirk. "No. You have to. You already said that you're in love with a guy. Just say it."

Dante did a retake of what he had said and offered Flash a sheepish grin. "Oh... Huh... yeah... I guess I did, huh?" Flash just gave him a smirk and lifted an eyebrow expectantly. "Oh okay! Fine!" he exclaimed, throwing his paws into the air. "My direction in life is you, okay? I really feel this connection between us and I don't want to give that up. You've always been nice to me and now that this has all happened..."

"You love me," Flash teased, rolling the word 'love' on his tongue for emphasis. "You love me. You love me. You love me!" he sang over and over again.

Dante growled and suddenly threw himself at Flash, catching the bigger hellhound by surprise as they both toppled to the cushioned ground. Despite being bigger, Flash was the one on his back with Dante on top of him, pinning his wrists to the floor.

"Yes, I fucking love you, you big jerk," Dante growled, baring his fangs. "Hard not to after everything we've been through." He slowly pulled back his snarl. "When we were in the Snake Pit and you were fighting for me... I was just really worried about you. You were putting yourself at risk for me. Then when you blew up the Desert of Deceit, I really thought you were about to die." Then he snapped his fangs at Flash again, causing the crimson hellhound to recoil. "You're still not allowed to do something that stupid again, got it?"

Flash blinked a couple of times before giving Dante that cute smile of his, his left canine flashing as his lips twisted upwards on one side in a smile. "Yes sir."

"Good."

He then pressed their muzzles together, the first true kiss they had shared in a long while. Both hellhounds hummed softly, their cocks stirring in their sheaths. The touch of another tongue against his own caused Dante's eyelids to flutter and it took all his effort to pull his lips away but that didn't stop him from panting heavily.

"Do we have to stop...?" Flash whined softly.

As much as he wanted to keep going, Dante wanted to make the moment when they finally do have sex again very special. "No but we probably should. I don't think Russ will really like two young hellhounds rutting in his house." He rolled off his mate and sprang to his feet.

"Oh come on!" Flash protested. "That's why he put all those cum buckets all over the place! He expects us to fuck and cum everywhere!"

"Yeah." Dante glanced over his shoulder and smirked. "But if you just keep cumming, you're never going to grow bigger muscles."

Flash deflated... then his ears perked up. "Wait... You know...?"

"That you're obsessed with being the biggest guy in school? Yeah. No, I didn't read your aura and I didn't hear that from Todd either." Dante shrugged absently. "I just know that you always spend an extra thirty minutes after school every day in the weights room on workout day for football."

"How'd you...?"

"I'm the team's water boy, remember?"

Flash gave him that cute smile again. "Huh... yeah..." His ears perked. "I guess you know something else about me, huh?"

Dante returned the smile. "Yeah. I guess I do."

******

Languor

_ _

'Russ explained that there were two kinds of Sloth Demons. There are varying levels of demons but Sloth Demons divide themselves into two castes. The upper caste are the biggest, most powerful and arguably the laziest of them all. They are a kind of demon called a 'Generator'.'

******

Ethan returned just before the sun began setting. The personal trainer entered his home to the smell of pizza, fries and deep fried chicken wings. He stepped into the lounge room where the entire spread - including some garlic bread and sodas - had been set up on the coffee table in front of the big screen television. Buck sat in the big couch, wearing a pair of Ethan's shorts and a borrowed shirt.

"About time you came home," Buck said, "I was getting worried."

The 6'4'' personal trainer crossed his arms at his one closest client. "And I come home to this?" he rumbled, waving a big, meaty hand at the piles of incredibly unhealthy food. "I know I'm not on the clock but come on, man. You have got to be kidding me."

Buck gave him a sardonic smile. "Now don't tell me you're not tempted."

"Of course I'm tempted." He patted his thick, muscled belly. The hard packed abs still didn't protrude as far out as his plump pectorals and he was certainly proud of his roid gut but it was a slippery slope before it turned to just a pure gut. "But it takes dedication to look good and be fit. I can understand an indulgence or two but this..."

Buck leaned back in the couch and crossed his arms behind his head, those big, meaty arms. "Ethan, my friend, you take your job far too seriously. This is just a gesture of thanks for taking me in. Live it up a little."

When Buck had asked to stay with Ethan due to what had happened, Ethan was more than willing to help his long-time friend. Though he did have to question why someone as wealthy as Buck Goldman would be reduced to couch surfing. Surely the millionaire entrepreneur could easily fly somewhere else and assign someone to overlook the reconstruction of his mansion. Why stick around at all?

In any case, he didn't mind the company and honestly quite preferred that Buck was close by. While he didn't mind being flown around the country to make sure his client was fit and healthy, it was still a somewhat tiring exercise. Sitting in a plane for too long was very exhausting and made him somewhat stir crazy. One of the many reasons he went out on nature hikes every now and then.

"Okay, just this once," Ethan said, lifting a finger. "But I'm riding your ass hard tomorrow. Got that?"

"Just don't leave me too sore," Buck answered smugly. "I plan to visit the mansion to make sure construction is going as planned."

Ethan was unsure how he felt about that. Again, the company was well appreciated. When he wasn't training Buck and on the few times he ever got to return to this house, it felt empty and very alien to him. Most of the time, he was being put up in a hotel that Buck booked for him. He was more used to hard beds with basic cable and rickety air conditioning than actual being in his own house. Buck's presence sort of added more life to the place.

He sat down next to Buck, his weight causing the couch to groan. It was still very bouncy and firm. It was very seldom that he came back here so the couch still had the integrity of having been newly bought. He lifted an eyebrow as he noticed that Buck had put a horror-themed TV series on the big screen. It was one of those more recent series concerning different types of hauntings with an actual deep plot and relied on genuine terror than jump scares.

"I thought you didn't like horror," he commented, reaching down and picking up a slice of pizza. It was a meat lover's pizza. He could feel his arteries clotting already. Still, it did smell very nice and it had been a while since he'd had some pizza.

"This is unlike those hackneyed carnival shows you keep trying to shove down my throat," Buck answered, picking off some garlic bread. "This instils genuine terror. The monsters aren't so unbelievable. They don't just throw blood everywhere like it's red paint. _And_they have a degree of mystery instead of just 'running from the monster' and shaky cameras."

Ethan was not about to get into this argument with Buck again. He _loved_horror movies in any shape and form regardless of how 'cheap' the effects were. If it could get his heart pumping, he loved it. Maybe because it was akin to the feeling he got right after a good hike or a really good workout. He settled back into the couch and watched the show with Buck right beside him.

They didn't really speak that much. Most of their conversations consisted of grunts and deep breaths. What little time they did talk to one another normally involved topics such as nutrition, workout regimens and the next trip that they would take. If their relationship wasn't defined mostly by a contract, Ethan would've been convinced that they were 'best bros'.

A slice of pepperoni dropped from the slice and landed on his thick goatee before sliding onto his shirt. It landed directly on his collar bone. With a grimace, he plucked it off his shirt and popped it into his mouth, chewing the spicy meat with a shrug. He caught Buck's smirk and gave him a challenging look as if to dare him to make a comment. Buck was smart enough not to say anything to antagonise someone who was bigger than him and went back to munching on his own garlic bread.

Buck remained silent throughout the entire show even though he eyed Ethan from the periphery of his vision. Ethan was always someone who was infinitely energetic and a go-getter just like Buck. However, after having spent most of the night as a big, hulking wolf monster with a massive, serpentine dick just lounging about in his bed, Buck was starting to see the value in taking things a little slowly to appreciate the finer things in life.

After having eaten only healthy food under Ethan's instruction, he found himself appreciating the junk food in front of him. Even the fine gourmet food of some of the fanciest restaurants all over the world couldn't compare to the hearty, meaty and artery-clotting meal in front of him. Taking some time off his diet and letting go a little actually helped make him feel a little stronger. Ethan could definitely benefit from such a balance. One of the reasons why he had invited his friend to such a severe break in their routine meals.

He watched Ethan carefully. There was a mysterious colourful cloud around the personal trainer that he had seen around the few people he had encountered since his transformation. He tasted the some of their auras and instantly associated certain colours and tastes with emotions, he didn't know how he knew what they were. Blue was fear. Green was jealousy and purple was pride. There was certainly an aura of pride around Ethan but there was also a tinge of insecurity and jealousy. He could never be big enough and that constantly fuelled the fire within him that kept striving to constantly hone his body into the godly, healthy form it was.

But it consumed him, became his entire being.

Buck wanted to share the newfound admiration for relaxation with his friend. But after just one slice, Ethan lay back on the couch and didn't touch the rest of the food. He just drained the rest of the water bottle he carried with him on his hikes.

That was no way to relax.

Buck began to pull over how he could convince Ethan to take another slice and just take one night off his strict diet. Then, he detected a faint mist of orange slowly making its way towards Ethan. It took him a moment that the field was coming from him. To hide his interest in the discovery, he leaned forward and took his first slice of pizza. As he munched on it, he eyed the thick haze of orangey mist hanging around him like a cloud.

As he switched his eyes from left to right, he noticed the tendrils of the mist sweeping with his gaze. It didn't take long for him to realise he had control over the aura. He wondered what this meant especially since he had already come to associate the colour with sloth. It was just a natural assumption to him, something that sprang to his mind when he noticed that one guy just sitting on a bench just lounging about doing nothing for the rest of the day. He _was_a little concerned that it was emanating from him but perhaps there was a way he could use that.

He began to think the aura towards Ethan. To his surprise, it followed his direction with ease, slowly seeping towards his friend like a ghost stalking its prey. There was a bit of apprehension as the first aura inched closer and closer to the myriad of colours swirling around Ethan's bulky frame. The orange mist wavered a little as Buck's concentration was momentarily broken. He settled into the couch and just let out a contended sigh. That allowed him to strengthen the haze.

Tentatively, he brushed the tendril against Ethan's aura. It felt like gently rubbing an arm against another person's; not to the point where their skin was touching but more like just the hairs on their arms were brushing against one another's. He watched Ethan carefully but saw no change in his friend's position or aura.

So he decided to be a little more... aggressive.

It was somewhat difficult to maintain the aura of sloth he emitted as it was contrary to the very nature of the emotion to be so... insistent. Still, he somehow found a nice balance between activity and languor. He kept his body relaxed and loosed while his mind dove into Ethan's body, spreading his influence into his friend. It was like watching a droplet of orange food dye spread through a glass of clear water. Even without any force applied to it, the ginger mist bled and swirled into Ethan's aura.

Ethan began to visibly relax, his tense muscles softening. His upright position became a little less stiff and he slouched into the couch. He even went so far as to shuck off his shoes and put his big, sweaty feet on the table. Not that Buck minded. The sight of his friend finally relaxing a little aroused him. A soft growl rolled up from his throat which he quickly covered up by shoving the rest of the pizza into his mouth.

"Slow down there," Ethan laughed softly. "The more you eat now, the more we're going to have to work tomorrow."

"Yeah, yeah," Buck murmured. He couldn't really be bothered for a witty reply and that just strengthened his powerful aura of sloth. It pushed deeper into Ethan, taking over well up to half of his field. Ethan's eyes even began to droop a little.

Buck was just about to leave it there when Ethan suddenly lurched forward and grabbed another slice of pizza. The burst of activity pushed Buck's corruptive essence away. Buck felt a bit of frustration as Ethan settled back into his seat but he was somewhat satisfied that there was now a tinge of orange swirling around the glow around Ethan even without his interference.

The sensible man would've stopped there.

But Buck was a man used to getting what he wanted. If something was broken, he would fix it. Sadly, his definition of what was 'broken' was being twisted by the demon that he had become. Slightly annoyed that Ethan had pushed him out, he redoubled his efforts to infect his friend, pushing his aura deep into the personal trainer.

Ethan's head fell back against the couch and a soft moan left his lips. His eyes grew heavy and stared blankly up at the ceiling. Every muscle in his body went slack, even his heartbeat began to slow. His big, beefy arms dropped to his sides, the slice of pizza falling from his hands and flopping loudly onto the couch.

It was in that moment that Buck realised he may have gone too far.

"Ethan! Hey!" he exclaimed, reaching forward and shaking his friend's shoulder.

Ethan's eyes flickered open and he stared around the room as if he had just woken up form a long nap. "Buck... I... hmmm..." He groaned and rubbed the back of his neck, lightly brushing the spikey brown hair. "I... I must've been a bit more wiped than I first thought..." He got up, swaying slightly and having to reach out to balance himself. "I... I think I'm going to go lie down and call it an early night..."

"You sure?" Buck asked. "You've only had two slices. There's lots of pizza and even a bucket of chicken."

"I'm... I'm good," Buck muttered. "Night."

Without another word, he turned around, leaving the TV show only halfway done.

******

As was the problem with all demons, Dante did not need any sleep. That meant he had to fill his evenings with something to do to keep himself from going insane with boredom. The previous night, he had just taken to catching up with his homework but when he had over eight hours to spare between bed time and the early morning hours, there was only so much algebra he could cram in before he grew bored. That, and after a week of the same thing plus demon training, he had already finished the curriculum for the semester.

It was amazing what one could do when one had the time.

But now, Dante was done with math, physics and chemistry. As much as he wanted to delve into his IT books, his brain was crammed full of information and he couldn't take much more. Glancing at the clock, he sighed and realised it was just reaching one in the morning. He still had at least another six hours before it was time to get ready for school... and then he remembered it was now a Saturday.

So he didn't even have any reason to get up early. Flash was probably still working out and Russ was doing who knew what he does at night. That just left the question of what he should do to kill some time. He wasn't a fitness buff like Flash and considering his muscular growth was based entirely on how much he consumed and managed to keep down without spraying his seed everywhere, he saw no point in working out. He could always practice more magic but again, that was more information he was cramming into his head.

Thinking of Flash made him wonder if he should try to get to know his mate a little more but then again, they had their date this evening and he was a little conscious of running out of topics to talk about. In comparison to Flash's drama-filled life, his was fairly boring. Plus Flash already knew so much about him that he didn't want to be like some sort of inquisitor throwing question after question at his mate. The idea of having an awkward silence while they waited for their food to arrive would be torture.

Thinking of their dinner date, he decided that nothing would eat through time than cooking something. Not to mention it would give his mind time to digest what he had just learned from his books.

Set on his course, Dante jumped off his hard, stone bed and made his way through the deep, dark cavern which was his room. Like Flash's room which had been transformed to fit the fiery hellhound, Dante's had also taken the brunt of his demonic presence. The floors, wall and ceiling had all transformed into thick, black stone with bright, red veins coursing through them all like it was made of volcanic rock. Having taken from his affinity for magic, black feathers covered the ground in a dense layer. Whenever he took a step, the feathers would launch into the air, propelled by some unknown force only to settle back exactly where they had been before. A few stalactites hung from his ceiling, perfectly conical in shape and each one was completely red in colour, emitting a faint, crimson light that illuminated his room. He was also fairly sure the entire room had become a little bigger than before.

He stepped out of his room and, as he expected, there was some music playing from the gym where Flash was working out. Russ was nowhere to be seen but Dante suspected he was probably in his room. That left the path clear straight to the kitchen. Moving his immense 300 pound weight of furry hell spawn muscle silently through the hallway would've been hard for any normal person but for a hellhound, it was easy. He easily swept through the hallway and straight into the pristine kitchen.

When the lights flicked on, he was greeted by a stainless steel cooktop, a big refrigerator full of food and enough utensils to make a chef drool. The next question he needed answered was what to make. He did promise Flash a lasagne and he had time to kill so he decided a freshly baked pasta dish would be a good place to start.

Dante headed into the walk in pantry and began looking for ingredients. Sadly, Russ was not one for fresh ingredients or any greenery for that matter. As he had mentioned before, demons were mostly carnivores due to the fact that meat contained some sort of negative emotion attached to them. He briefly wondered if that meant angels were vegetarians. That did make him wonder what angels ate at all.

And made him question... if demons ate negative emotions, then that left mortals with only positive ones. So if angels ate positive emotions, then their 'victims' would be left with negative. He wondered exactly how that would help feed either species but came to the conclusion that demons could more easily bring down a person in euphoria or manipulate them just as easily as angels could uplift a mortal wallowing in depression.

At the very least Russ had some canned tomatoes, dried basil and other assorted spices. It didn't seem that he made lasagne often, however, so he didn't have any premade lasagne sheets. Dante was about to give up on the venture when another idea sprang into mind. He was just wearing his red tank top and red shorts, both materialised using his magical power.

"I wonder..." he murmured to himself.

Carrying the ingredients out into the kitchen, he considered what others he would need for the pasta. He could always make the sheets himself; they had the ingredients. However, now that the thought was in his mind, he had to give it a try. The young hellhound closed his eyes and held out his paw in front of him, just over the counter. Demonic strength coursed throughout his veins as he summoned his power and began to mould it into the desired shape. Black smoky tendrils sprang from his paw and swept onto the counter. The darkness coalesced into a blocky shape before solidifying.

Dante opened one eye, conscious of what he had created. Then he broke into a grin. Sitting in front of him was a nice, big box of premade pasta sheets. His favourite brand too.

"Sweet!" he exclaimed. He used his claws to tear through it just to make sure the sheets themselves weren't horribly mutated. They were perfect. Dry as to be expected but nonetheless perfect. He realised he could easily make the lasagne itself with a simple sweep of his paws but then that would sap the fun out of baking.

Tail wagging, he began putting the dish together. As a hellhound, he couldn't leave the dish to be without some form of meat. So he found some ground beef from the refrigerator, thawed it out in the microwave and then lightly cooked it with some onions, garlic and some diced tomatoes. Once he had a nice sauce going, he set it aside to cool. The oven was preheating while he gently soaked the sheets in some boiling, salted water. When he was satisfied that they were nice and flexible, he began applying them in layers onto a baking pan. First a sheet, then a layer of beef then a lot of cheese. This was followed by some fresh spinach and then another sheet. He repeated the process until he the pan was full.

The meal looked delicious even uncooked but that was for a human. For a demon, while the aromatic smells of the pasta sauce and melting cheese made his stomach gurgle with hunger, it still lacked that special... _something_that a demon would absolutely love. Dante scratched his cheek absently, jostling his black cheek ruffs trying to figure it out. Then it hit him.

There just wasn't enough negativity in the dish. He scratched his head trying to think of some way to make the dish even more appealing. There would've been a time when he'd be utterly excited to dig into the fragrant and meaty lasagne but now... there just wasn't any substance in it. Sure there was a flicker of regret and maybe even a bit of malice embedded into the beef, some hatred in the tomatoes and maybe even a tinge of disgust in the basil but it was all muted; drowned in a sea of red sauce, onions, garlic and magically created lasagne sheets.

Dante poked his head in the pantry, looking for something with a strong enough emotion to add some body into the lasagne. Sadly, what he did find would corrupt the savoury mortal flavour. There were some eggs and bacon that he could add, perhaps but his inner chef was kicking himself for considering it. He growled at himself and stared at his dish, unsatisfied with the product.

Then he wondered...

"Why not just add some of my own...?" he muttered. He held out his paw towards the dish, drawing on that pride he felt a moment ago when he was just about ready to toss it into the oven. He pulled it from his soul, pushing it up through his arm and then sending it cascading from his fingertips towards the baking tray. It was a little hard to control as the pride wanted to dissipate almost immediately but he kept it on track and pushed it into the lasagne. To his surprise, the pasta, sauce and meet greedily ate it up.

A wave of exhaustion suddenly washed over him and he staggered, having to catch himself on the counter to prevent himself from toppling over completely. It wasn't the loss of pride that had sapped him. No. He could generate pride enough with his mortal soul. The loss of strength came from forcibly guiding those generated emotions into another physical object.

Shaking his head, he immediately went to the fridge and pulled out one of the many bottles of his milk that Russ had stored. He didn't even consider how odd it was that he was drinking the milk that had come from his own nipples. The moment to sweet ambrosia touched his lips, strength filled his muscles again, veins popping all over his body. He barely got through a mouthful before he was ready to pour more pride into his masterpiece.

With a bottle in one paw and the other hovering over the lasagne, he pooled as much of the deep purple emotion into the dish as it could handle. Any more and he was sure it would have starting mutating into something black with bright, purple veins running through it similar to Edward's domain.

Now satisfied with his dish, he shoved it into the oven and waited for the physical form to catch up to the demonic side. He began packing up the dishes, cleaning the chopping board and knives as he did so.

The noise attracted some attention.

"What are you doing?"

Dante perked his ears. The deep, manly, musky smell of Russ met his nostrils and he sniffed it to catch Russ' special, spicy aftershave. He wasn't surprised that the older hellhound was in his demonic form. By the plumpness of his sheath, Russ had either just finished jacking off or was just in the process of arousing himself when the noise brought him to the kitchen.

"Just cooking a bit," Dante answered with a shrug. "Something to do before sun up."

Russ wore a little frown as he padded over, his heavy footsteps emanating with power and causing Dante to shiver. "What did you make?"

For some reason, Dante really wanted to impress the big hellhound. "Just some lasagne."

Russ leaned down in front of the oven. "Huh. You must've been really proud of your work. I can see it seeping with it."

"Actually..." Dante began with his cheeks burning with embarrassment. "I just sort of... faked the emotion. I mean, I _was_really proud of it but not _that_proud."

His mentor gave him a puzzled stare, his near-black eyes regarding him curiously. "What are you saying?"

"I just sort of multiplied the pride I felt and infused it into the dish, that's all."

Russ suddenly straightened, the sudden movement surprising Dante. "Wait... You're a Generator?"

"A what?"

Russ blinked a few times and opened his muzzle before abruptly shutting it. "Right... you don't know." He glanced back at the lasagne, ears flicking back and forth. "Generators are a rare kind of demon. Like their namesake, they're capable of generating negative emotions instead of just consuming them. Most other demons may embody a certain emotion but they wear it like armour, it protects them. When demons have an excess of the emotion, they can inject it into others to corrupt them. But Generators are capable of producing so much of it without risking their own strength that much and using it offensively. They can shoot their emotions into others and it'll infect them."

"Wait... so how do they feed then? They're giving away their own energy."

"A Generator's aura is stronger than an average demon's. Even just a little drop is enough to spread throughout a mortal's system like a virus. It'll multiply rapidly, infest their entire system. Generators don't need to use all their power. Just a little bit of it. What's more, they're one of the few demons that can actually use their auras like a weapon as in _physically manifest_them."

Dante regarded his paws in awe. "I can do that...?"

"Tell me something. Did you actually touch the lasagne when you poured your pride into it?" Dante shook his head. "Then yes, you're a Generator." Russ gave the young hellhound a rueful smile. "That's interesting. Even your grandfather wasn't a Generator." He leaned back down in front of the lasagne and reached for the oven door. "Let's see what this tastes like."

"But it's not done..." Dante protested.

"Just a taste..."

Dante suddenly seized the wet wooden spoon from the kitchen and gave Russ' forehead a sound whack. "It's not done!"

Russ reeled back and gave Dante a growl. "Hey!" He straightened and bore his fangs at the smaller hellhound. "You do not get to treat me like that."

Feeling a little emboldened by his recent discovery, Dante waved the wooden spoon in front of Russ' face even going so far as to bop him lightly on the nose with it.

"I told you. It. Is. Not. Done." He pointed at the kitchen counter. "You need to wait until it's cooked like everyone else."

Russ narrowed his gaze but obediently parked himself by the counter, sitting his enormous weight on one of the enchanted stools. His mentor's glowering was somewhat unnerving and he couldn't just turn his back on the demon. While he did not fear being raped by Russ, he didn't want the hellhound from seeing his tail tucked between his legs.

"So... what kind of other demons are Generators?" he asked.

"Fear Demons for one," Russ rumbled, still clearly a little peeved at being treated like a child. "One of the best at it mostly because Fear is very easy to generate. Hate Demons are pretty good at it as well but not at the same level as Fear. Spite Demons are fairly decent at it but generally have a hard time finding prey. Too many people try to be good but when they _do_find someone who they can latch onto, they generally make a serial killer out of them."

"Spite...?" Dante asked. "I didn't see that amongst the list of demons you and grandpa encountered."

"There are more demons than just the Ten Mortal Vices, you know," Russ said a little smugly. "There there's Pain, Insanity, Pestilence, Vengeance and many more." The big hellhound made a face. "Though I guess with Vengeance Demons it's a bit iffy because they can be a good thing in some ways. Damn close to their polar opposites, the Justice Angels."

"That sounds like some cheap superhero group or a metal band."

Russ cracked a smile. "That's angels for you. They have lousy names. But they can't help it. When your polar opposite is something like 'Pride Demon' you can only be an 'Angel of Humility'."

"So every kind of demon has a polar opposite?" Dante asked, wandering over to the kitchen counter and leaning against it. "Even us?"

"Even us," answered Russ. "Our opposites are what I used to be, demi-gods. But these days they're called Archons. The look a little like hellhounds except instead of horns they have halos and their fur is generally brighter in colour."

"Do they have wings?"

"No." Russ shook his head. "They're still part mortal. Only the _real_Angels get wings. Angels of Truth, Peace, Forgiveness and Valour are the ones that have wings. The higher they are up the angelic pecking order, generally the more they have."

"That ranking system you talked about with the Seraphim at top." Dante waved the wooden spoon absently in circles. "Can't imagine having all those wings..."

"Neither can I. Mostly for show, really. I hear they taste like chicken." Russ shrugged. "Oh, and another kind of demon that's a fairly good Generator are Sloth Demons. They aren't that aggressive with their powers but most of the time, if you step into their domain, you get snagged by their powers. Hard to resist too." He laughed softly. "Reminds me of when we fought Torpor. That's the Sin of Sloth by the way."

Dante's ears perked up. "How'd you beat him? He would've have been much of a challenge, right? I mean, if he's sloth, he wouldn't have done anything to fight back."

Russ snorted. "We weren't there to fight. We were there to win whatever challenge he put in front of us. And trust me, getting a Sloth Demon to act on _anything_is difficult enough. It was worse since we were close to him so that meant we were falling under his power." He shook his head. "But you can read it in your grandpa's diary." He slapped the table lightly. "When is that lasagne going to be ready?"

Dante told Russ to be patient and sure enough, a mere twenty minutes later, the oven let out a soft ding. He checked to make sure the pasta was cooked all the way through and pulled the dish out of the oven. The aromatic smell of the sauce, melted cheese and basil plus that distinct twang of pride made his muzzle water. He brought it to the kitchen table and Russ began taking out a few plates for them.

"Hey Flash!" Dante shouted. "Come get some food!"

The music from the gym died out and a few moments later, Flash poked his head out of the door, peering at him curiously.

"Food?" asked his mate with the most adorable look on his face; a real puppy attentive for a treat.

"Yes food."

"Food for me?"

"Get over here!" Dante laughed.

Flash's tongue lolled out as he bounded over to the kitchen, his tail wagging. When the scent of the dish hit him, he had to wipe his muzzle of his drool with the back of his arm. He was practically bouncing as Dante served him a third of the lasagne. Russ got another third and Dante gave himself the last.

"Dig in," Dante exclaimed.

The first bite was simply heaven. Russ' eyes rolled into the back of his head and he let out a moan as both the amazing taste and texture of the lasagne mixed with the pride Dante had infused into it filled his body. Flash dug in heartily, discarding his knife and fork and just shovelling the dish down his throat. Dante had a little more restraint and just took large heaping chunks of the food. None of them cared that the others were starting to sport rather obvious boners, their enormous demonic canine dicks dripping precum onto the counter.

Within a minute, all three hellhounds were licking their plates clean, panting heavily.

"Is there more?" Flash asked.

"Sorry stud," Dante rumbled, absently stroking his erect dick. "Only made one batch. I'll make more next time."

"Might want to hold off on that," Russ grunted, clutching one of his three dicks in each paw. The three, enormous, red rods were fit to burst and the legendary hellhound was having trouble trying to keep the meal down. "Any more and I'm pretty sure I would've flooded the kitchen by now."

"I'd like the see that," Flash growled softly, trying to deal with his own erection. "Fuuuuck..." He groaned and pushed away from the counter, dragging his stool away so that he had some space to let his dick rest against the marble. Dante licked his lips at the sight of the throbbing member. "What did you put in that thing anyway? I'm horny as fuck..."

"Your mate is a Generator," Russ explained. "A rare kind of demon that can actually generate negative emotions instead of just feeding off others and using that to fuel themselves. Since we're unaligned to any specific emotion, it makes him extra special." Russ licked his lips, eyeing Dante's own big, red cock. "The stuff a Generator produces is generally more potent than any other demon's."

Dante was partially convinced his mentor was going to pounce on him and start sucking his dick though he was fairly sure that he wouldn't have done anything to stop him if that happened. However, Russ let out a grunt and pushed away from the counter as well.

"I've got to work this off," he muttered. "Digest it a little." He had to clutch all three of his dicks against his chest as he waddled back towards his room. "If either of you are going to jack off, remember to use the buckets. Or at least cum in your own rooms. That's already corrupted enough."

The door to Russ' room shut, leaving Flash and Dante alone.

The two hellhounds' gazes met.

Flash blushed and started towards his room. "I'll... Uh... Try not to think sexy thoughts."

As he turned however, he offered Dante the perfect view of his shapely ass.

"That's going to be hard," Dante admitted but he respected Flash's decision and let his mate withdraw into his own sanctuary. He sighed and focused on cleaning the dishes and the mess he had made. Though it was hard with his cock constantly demanding release and spewing more precum, he managed to stay focused. The menial task eventually allowed his dick to start receding back into his sheath, forcing him to metabolise the energy that he had generated. It was rather surprising that even though he had used his own power to create the pride that he had infused into the lasagne, he still felt slightly richer for having eaten just a third of the meal.

He flexed a bicep and could have sworn that it was a little bigger than before.

Russ had been right. The emotion a Generator created was far more potent than any other.

With the dishes done and his cock having subsided, Dante returned to his room just as the sun was starting to peek between the gloomy clouds of Angelton. He wondered what the day would bring as he settled onto his dark bed. He reached for his grandfather's journal but any thoughts of looking up Generators was distracted by the sound of a bellowing roar that shook even the walls of his dark sanctuary.

He smirked.

He perked his ears, listening in for the heavy panting of his mate just next door. He could hear the waves of contentment and exhaustion that was flowing off Flash like the gentle waves of a low tide. A second roar erupted from not too far away followed by a series of loud whines.

It seemed that neither of the other two hellhounds could resist the temptation of erect dicks.

Dante settled in with the journal in his paws, smug in the knowledge that he had somehow managed to resist.

"This is going to be a good day."

******

Weekends were usually the days Ethan reserved for the few other clients he had apart from Buck. Monday to Friday, Buck had Ethan booked around the clock even though he generally only spent an hour working out and the rest regulating Buck's food intake. But with Buck living with Ethan for the past week, the millionaire finally got to see the other clients that Ethan attended to.

Harry Wen was one such client. A slim Asian man with short, dark brown hair and little to no muscle definition despite apparently having been working with Ethan for the past six months, Harry was a go-getter much like Buck. Young, full of energy and ambition, Harry was born and raised in Angelton and couldn't wait to find an opportunity to move out of the small town and make it big somewhere like New York or maybe even London. He also talked.

A lot.

"I remember this time I was building some code and I trying to work out why in the world this particular SQL was telling me that a variable was not being declared when I clearly declared it earlier up on the script!" Even as he was executing some squats with 50 pounds of weight on his shoulders, he continued to chatter on. Buck was honestly frightened that he would collapse from lack of oxygen. "Then I realised that I had a 'go' statement in the middle of the query! God I felt so stupid!"

He laughed but that was short lived as he blasted off into another tangent.

"Huh. Go. It's a funny word. I wonder where it comes from. You know where it comes from?" Buck didn't even bother trying to answer because within the span of half a second, Harry was answering his own question. "People these days are always 'go, go, go', don't you think? Sometimes I think they need a traffic light on them. Go, slow down, stop. Speaking of traffic lights, I _really_like the colour green. What's your favourite colour? I bet it's blue. You look like a blue kind of guy. Isn't that weird? You know, I read this study where boys tend to either favour blue or red depending on where they were raised. I mean here red can mean courage, bravery and strength but in other countries it represents blood and anger which really isn't that bad. I mean you got to let out your anger right? It's not good to keep things bottled up."

Buck was desperately trying to keep his anger bottled up because as it stood, every punch he threw at the punching bag in front of him already sent the thing quaking and he wasn't even trying. Whatever else his transformation had given him, he was now much stronger than any average human even with his new build. He had to purposefully hold back during his workouts with Ethan to make sure that he didn't break any world records and rouse suspicion. Ethan often laughed that he wasn't breaking a sweat anymore whereas before, he was usually drenched in it half an hour in.

But as Harry continued to shatter on like he was trying to exhaust every word in the English language within one sitting, Buck was sincerely imagining the young programmer's face on his punching bang.

"Okay there champ," Ethan said, helping Harry with the weight off his shoulders and thankfully putting an end to the ceaseless flow of words. "Time for your shake."

"Ha sit been an hour already?" Harry asked. "Wow! Time sure does fly! I wonder who ever came up with that expression. I mean, can you imagine it? Clocks with wings flying by! Actually, I had a dream about that one time. They say that dreams are doors into your subconscious and honestly, sometimes dreams can be really just weird. But I think they're just stuff your brain comes up with..."

In his rant, he really didn't noticed Buck and Ethan exchanged exasperated glances. Buck gave him a look, mentally asking, 'Does he ever shut up?' Ethan just shrugged as if knowing exactly what he asked and gave Harry a pat on the shoulder, heading into his office. Buck was glad for the reprieve but then came to the terrible realisation that meant Harry was left alone with _him_for the next few minutes or so.

And even just a minute with the chatterbox was like an eternity in Hell.

"Why do they call it as 'shake'?"

Harry's voice might as well have been nails on a chalkboard. Buck was on the verge of strangling the guy to finally silence him but instead, he pulled back and decided to take a different approach. The previous night, his aura of Sloth had managed to get Ethan to relax a little. Maybe he could do the same to Harry, just slow him down a little, make him less... excitable.

The problem was, he had just a good hour of working out so that meant that he was pumped full of testosterone, brimming with energy and the opposite of being lazy. He needed to generate some sloth before he went completely postal on the talkative young man. Wiping his brow with a towel, he gave Harry a small smile like he was listening and sat down on a nearby bench, just trying to relax. Unfortunately, Harry's constant yammering was grinding against his sense of relaxation and it was a monumental effort to feel at peace.

Buck closed his eyes for a moment and considered how he had positioned himself. Every part of his body was stiff and rigid. He needed to... be a little more at ease. Completely ignoring Harry, he stretched his arms over his head and rolled his shoulders, sore muscles getting a flood of blood. He leaned back against the bench press bar, swinging his arms over the bar itself. He placed one leg over the length of the bar, finding himself a little more... at ease.

Despite Harry's constant yammering, Buck managed to nice and relaxed. A few questions were fired off at him from Harry but he just couldn't be bothered answering them knowing full well that Harry would answer them a second later anyway. That generated quite a bit of the orange aura around him. He grasped the ethereal power and gently sent it towards Harry. Gaseous, orange tendrils seeped into Harry's thick aura of excitement, energy and euphoria.

Buck found it was like trying to shove a knife through some thick, sturdy foam. The point went in but the rest needed a lot of effort to push through to the core. He needed to wiggle the tendrils around to make some progress but the further he punctured through the armour-like shell of positivity, the more of that aura began turn amber in colour.

"Boy... I didn't notice how tired I was," Harry said. "Ever noticed how you don't actually get tired from a workout until a little after you stop? I mean, I know it's good to take breaks and stuff but only when you really stop does everything start hurting. Pain is a funny thing, though, isn't it? It's meant to be your body's way of telling you something is wrong but here we are, trying to hurt ourselves to make ourselves better! Isn't that funny?"

Still not enough. Far from it.

Buck pushed his dark energies deeper into Harry's essence. He wormed his way further in but found an easier solution to his problem. Even just having a good foothold in Harry's aura caused the tendrils to spread his influence into the young programmer. He didn't need to constantly push. Just keeping his power there allowed sloth to seep into Harry with little effort on his part. The satisfaction of doing so little even empowered him, causing the infection to spread further.

"Wow... I am... I am really feeling tired..." Harry murmured. He sat down at the foot of the bench. His eyes were starting to droop and there was a look of confusion on his face like he couldn't understand why he was so tired.

It was surprisingly a bit of a turn on. The power Buck had over this young man was intoxicating. Buck licked his lips and jolted a little when he felt something slick slip out from the tip of his dick and brush the inside of his boxers. He glanced at the big bulge in his pants and noticed the unruly stirring in the mound. Harry didn't notice and just lay back, head resting against the bench and staring numbly at the ceiling, not truly seeing and seemingly losing all strength in his body. His arms slumped by his side and his shoulders sagged.

Buck wasn't entirely sure what he was doing but having Harry under his power just made him feel... stronger. It was similar to the feeling he had when he finally opened his own company. So many people under him, so many people's lives that he was in charge of and so much money at his disposal. But this was far more... intimate. He had Harry completely under his power. There would be no talking back, no doubt, no disobedience.

He was genuinely curious as to how far he could push the limits of Harry's vegetative state before the young man snapped out of it. Further, he was curious about what was growing in his shorts. A soft rumble erupted from his chest as his dick stirred. Fascinated and aroused, he watched as the snake within began to slither down the leg of his shorts, growing bigger and thicker as the seconds ticked by. A clear, musky slime began dripping out of the tip of his dick. He quivered as the long, thick tongue pushed out of the slit and began smearing his entire leg with his precum, adding a saltiness to the taste of his flesh.

Whether he realised it or not, Buck's body began changing, shifting towards his demonic form. His brown-red hair began turning a bright orange while the hair on his arms and legs became thicker and denser turning into an almost impenetrable matt of fur. His blue and red gym shirt began to stretch with his expanding chest and belly.

All too aware that Ethan was just in the next room over, Buck tried to focus his growing form on his cock and not the rest of his body. It was like squeezing himself through a single point if that point was a big, fleshy, sensitive tube that was dripping with his precum. He managed to stall his outward growth but let his monstrous dick slither out through his shorts leg and slowly navigate its way around to Harry.

The dazed programmer noticed something was odd when the long, thick, human-like dick hovered in front of his face. He even levelled his gaze at it and let out a soft confused noise. His eyes glazed, Harry didn't do much more than twitch his left hand as a long, slick tongue began working its way out of the slithering cock towards his lips.

Excitement boiled in Buck's veins and his balls rumbled with anticipation. His secondary tongue pushed into Ethan's lips, no resistance whatsoever coming from his victim. He could taste the shake that Ethan had given the young man earlier that day and more. There was something... delicious, something ethereal that his physical, alien dick could somehow touch. The taste was indescribable but Buck knew he wanted more of it.

He slowly pushed his tongue deeper and deeper into Harry's throat, searching for whatever it was that gave of that incredible taste. Harry gagged as the tongue went down his throat. He let out a soft noise but it was cut off when Buck shoved the head of prehensile dick into his victim's mouth. Harry's eyes widened momentarily but the effect of Buck's aura quickly killed any further protests as he just willingly drank whatever juices Buck gave him.

It would've been easy to remain like that, Buck with his dick as an immense six foot long sausage curled around Harry's head like a snake with Harry suckling from the tip, but Buck heard footsteps coming from the hallway. He beat a hasty retreat, pulling his cock rapidly out of Harry. His victim gasped and spluttered a little. Buck pulled back his form, using the self-control he had developed over the years to squeeze his dick back into his shorts and will his bulked out frame back into the human shape that he had adopted.

"Here you go guys," Ethan announced, stepping back into the room with two shake containers in his hands. He stopped when he saw Harry's state, dazed and with a clear fluid dripping from his lips. "Harry...?"

"I think he just got a little over excited with the topic of how pain helps us get better," Buck said with a sly smile. "He needed to take a few breaths."

"Y - Y - Yeah..." Harry murmured softly, getting to his feet. "I... I just..." He let out a few coughs, swallowing back any of the precum that was still in his mouth. "I think I'll take that to go."

Buck watched his first victim staggered towards a concerned Ethan and take the offered protein shake before heading out. Ethan went to see him out, leaving Buck with his own protein shake. Normally, the shakes always tasted god awful but after that tantalising taste of whatever it was that Buck had briefly touched upon, it was downright inedible. Buck still choked it down for appearances but he knew he wanted one thing.

... and that was whatever his dick had savoured in Harry.

******

Russ usually held hellhound training later on in the day when the house was less likely to get unexpected visitors like the mailman or random hikers wandering through the woods of Angelton. It was fairly common for teenagers or hikers to trudge through the thick forest to kill time. Dante remembered the hikes he used to take with his grandpa took him from the Virgil's house, along some randomised path and eventually to Russ' place where they would have lunch. Back then, Dante never gave much thought to the times that Virgil would disappear into Russ' room and emerge looking refreshed and ready for another hike.

It made him wonder if those times were spent getting his demonic powers 'refuelled'.

Thinking about 'refuelling' brought Dante's mind back to the fact that he was a rare breed of demon, a Generator. Russ had mentioned that Sloth Demons were powerful Generators and that convinced him to delve back into Virgil's journal. He in the kitchen, waiting for the deception-infused apple pie to finish baking, leaning against the counter with his tail absently tapping the legs of the stool.

'Chapter 3: Sloth

'Our next destination was meant to be the domain of a Sloth Demon. At this stage, Russ and I were rather annoyed at H2 for having abandoned us twice, once at the Ascent of Arrogance and then again at the Estate of Envy. Russ made it quite clear that the bizarre entity could have saved us had he wished, proceeding on a rather lengthy rant about how 'No Ones' were meddlers and blind to the plight of the people they were manipulating. I admit to some degree of suspicion myself but at the same time, I could not deny that I was having the adventure of a lifetime and, as ashamed as I am to put it to paper, I was quite hungry for the base desires that it aroused in me. Whatever the case, H2 made it clear that I had desired a great adventure and he was giving me that and Russ needed a purpose in his life and again, H2 was offering that. At the time, I thought it was simply to guard me but I know now that it is so much more. So we proceeded to our next destination.

'They called it the Sluggish Swamps colloquially but its true name is the 'Quagmire'. For the first time since entering Hell, the demon that inhabited the plane fit the plane itself. Thick black swamps rolled in front of me as far as the eye could see. If you've ever smelled boiling semen, you will know how the swamps smelled like. The sky was perpetually orange and there were pools of what could only be demonic semen everywhere, Sloth demons just lounging amongst them, relaxing and constantly inviting those passing by into the pools with them. They had various servants constantly attending them. In many respects, it was like an enormous, open air day spa with Sloth Demons as the perpetual customers and everyone else their eternal servants.'

Imagining some sort of demonic day spa reminded him of the 'Pools of Pride' that Zander the Pride Demon had created beneath Edward's house. He shivered at the thought and though he was tempted to skip the chapter, he knew he had to learn more about the Sloth Demons sooner or later.

'Russ explained that there were two kinds of Sloth Demons. There are varying levels of demons but Sloth Demons divide themselves into two castes. The upper caste are the biggest, most powerful and arguably the laziest of them all. They are a kind of demon called a 'Generator'.'

Dante's eyes lit up at the magical word and he kept reading eagerly.

'Most demons consume negative emotions and use it to fuel their own power. By now, I'm sure you've seen the auras around people. As a demon, you will be more attuned to the negative emotions those people generate. Demons consume these and then add it to their own strength, metabolising it to become stronger or converting it into semen and spreading their seed to increase their physical domain. Generators, however, constantly create their own brand of negativity and have incredible control over it to the point where their influence could be felt for miles around.

'Just being in the Swamps sapped all the strength from by body. All the excitement of being in this grand adventure bled from my body with every step like the mushy, muddy ground was slowly dragging me into its depths. The air was thick, taking more and more effort to breathe and with each breath, I was forced to wonder if it was worth breathing at all. It did not help that the pools that the upper class Sloth Demons lounge in looked warm and inviting and the lower class demons groomed and waited on them hand and foot.

'You see, my boy, the more powerful a Sloth Demon, the less they have to move. They are masters of mental manipulation to the point where their thralls are truly just extensions of their will. With their role as Generators, they are able to constantly suppress their thralls, preventing their souls from recovering. They make sure that their thralls, these lower class, are physically fit and incredible specimens of demonic lineage. Each Sloth Demon, regardless of size has a long, prehensile and extendable member that they used sort of like a third arm. I once saw a slave Sloth Demon scrubbing his master's back with a brush in both paws and another held with his dick. The master demons are even bigger than their underlings with each one fully capable of consuming an entire man with their members alone.'

Dante held the book out at arm's length in surprise. He knew he had an immense dick and he had seen other demons with even bigger but by the way his grandpa was describing these Sloth Demons, it seemed that they even bigger. He slowly began painting a picture in his mind of these big, fat, lazy demons lounging around in pools of bubbling cum with a huge dick emerging from between their legs five times their size. On top of that were smaller, fitter demons that worshiped the huge member like it was their god.

His balls churned.

That was actually a little hot.

He shook his head free of the thought and continued reading.

'H2 took us to the leader of the Sloth Demons, Torpor. I had seen immense demons but this was clearly one of the biggest. He needed an entire lake all to himself and his coiled member wrapped around the entire circumference of the lake. His booming voice carried over to us even if we were a mile apart. He seemed to know that we were arriving and I think he attempted to seduce us into the slothful lifestyle. H2 warned him not to proceed but sloth rarely takes things into consideration and just pursues the easiest course of action especially if that action is none at all. I think he actually considered that subduing us would be far easier than not doing anything and having H2 pester him or rising to our challenge.

'But I digress. Suffice to say that H2 put him in his place. After which he finally gave us his challenge. We were to force him into action, get him excited about something to the point that he would actually want to get out of his lake and do something. Now this was a conundrum. Torpor was the size of a blue whale and likely weighted just as much. And I am not considering the size and weight of his member. How we would ever convince him to do something was initially beyond both Russ and I. Predictably, H2 was gone when the challenge was made so it was up to us to come up with a solution.'

The oven let out a soft ding and Dante wandered over. The pie had a nice golden brown crust and the apple blended white well with aroma of deception. He pulled it out of the oven, not even needing to use gloves and set it on a cooling rack. Judging by the delectable aroma, it wouldn't be long before Flash caught the scent and followed it to him.

Dante returned to the book to make as much of the time he had before a three hundred pound plus hellhound that breathed black hellfire came charging in with a hankering for pie.

'Torpor did not enforce a time limit on us so we were free to take as much time as we needed. However, I realised that the longer we spent, the more likely we were to fall for his spell and his thick aura of lethargy. I wracked my mind for some way to convince Torpor to do something but it grew harder and harder to think as the second ticked by. It did not help that these amazingly beautiful demons with schlongs to make any man envious constantly strolled by, putting their prehensile members into unique and arousing use. Imagining those squirming members within me, stimulating every surface of me...'

'I do apologise, my boy. It was a very... exciting adventure, after all. Regardless, I was growing frustrated with my inaction and the fact that I was slowly falling under Torpor's spell. In a fit of rage, I suggested to Russ that we just destroy the Swamps. It took us a moment to realise that was actually the best solution available to us. These demons were comfortable in their lifestyle. It was this comfort and the fact that they did not need to do anything that actually gave them their power. So we started our work.'

"Clever grandpa," Dante snickered.

'We needed to start small. Russ and I were in no condition to be hauling the enormous Sloth Demons out of their pools. So we started with the thralls. As you've read, we were on friendly terms with Mimic and he was more than willing to take the thralls that we had kidnapped from the Swamps and bring them to the Estate. Rest assured he didn't use them to fuel his own jealousy. He learned from that. It did not take long to disrupt the comfort of the Swamps, however. Just a couple of missing thralls and suddenly, the Sloth Demons were getting aggravated that they were not getting the same treatment that they were used to.

'You see, my boy, these demons were complacent and used to a certain lifestyle. When that is disrupted, then we stir the beast. But ultimately, their slothful nature worked against them as they could not be bothered to truly do much and even getting used to the lower level of service was still torment. The end result was little skirmishes between the Sloth Demons for the slave demons which were, in effect, like currency to them. I admit to as certain level of sick satisfaction as we watched the demons fight amongst one another though I really wouldn't call it fighting. It was more like lazily swiping something from someone and that someone offering a meek insult in retaliation and trying to rob someone else of a slave.

'It did not take long for the demons to realise that Torpor had the largest number of slaves and they began stealing from him. All through this time, we kept displacing slaves, robbing these demons of their lavished lifestyle. Soon, Torpor had to start moving to regain his level of comfort. It took about six months - that's just how slow these demons moved - before Torpor became truly aggravated and was actively converting his own upper caste into slaves. It was then that we enacted phase 2 of our place.'

Dante shook his head. "This I've got to see..."

'We set the Swamps on fire, burning entire swathes of the grassland and trees and forcing Sloth Demons out of their pools for their own safety. Now we used hellfire, not true fire. All this did was rob the demons of their power until they were extinguished and in the end, those Sloth Demons that just could not be bothered to leave their pools even with their life threatened, were turned into slaves by other, more opportunistic demons.

'With his entire realm threatened, Torpor was forced to act. He began assembling his remaining demons and tried to give a riling speech but he might as well have been throwing feathers are rocks. While he was impassioned, the demons around him were not. This is when we approached him and the moment he saw us, he realised what we had done. His rage would've cracked the entire plane of hell and he tried to consume us with his aura and his member but, once again, H2 intervened. We had won the challenge.

'But Torpor was not about to let us go just yet...'

Dante's ears perked and he suddenly turned towards his left. Crouched on the floor, tail stiff, ears back and looking infinitely ridiculous was Flash. It looked like he was trying to stalk something and with his bright green eyes directly forward, Dante knew exactly what his fellow hellhound was trying to go for.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

Flash's ears perked and his tail fluffed out in surprise also a little cutely. The big hellhound turned his head toward shim, a puppy caught in the act of doing something bad.

"Uh... Hi..." Flash began.

Dante gave his mate an exasperated smile and closed his book. "Did you want some pie?"

"Yes please?"

"Okay. You can have pie. But let it cool for a couple more minutes."

A look of relief crossed Flash's features and he got up, rubbing the back of his neck absently. "Why? We're demons. We won't burn our tongues or something..."

"It's not about the heat. It's about letting the filling cool so that the juices and sugar get a chance to thicken to make it nice and gooey. It'll let the flavours infuse into the filling and the demonic energies a chance to really permeate through the crust."

Flash's mouth was watering to the point where some of his drool was falling onto the ground. He had to wipe his muzzle with the back of his forearm. "Right. Of course."

"Besides, I get a chance to make some whipped cream now," Dante said, leaping off his chair. "Going to be nice, thick, infused with a bit of vanilla, lots of sugar and lots of pride."

"Now you're just doing that on purpose..."

He gave his mate a quick grin. "Maybe." He opened the fridge but frowned when all he saw were bottles of his milk, some eggs and butter. There was no cream. "Huh... No cream."

"That's okay. There's ice cream."

"No there isn't. You ate it all, remember?"

Flash blushed beneath his red fur and scratched his cheek in embarrassment. "Oh yeah... It's kind of hard not to indulge when you stay perpetually fit like this..." He rubbed his belly, his fingers glancing over the thick, hard abdominals that showed no signs of losing definition.

"Little bit," admitted Dante. "I guess we should go get some more food. We should get Russ to drive us or something."

"Cool. A walk." Flash stretched his big, muscly arms. "I've been itching to get out of this house." As he lowered his arms, he suddenly frowned. "Huh... Russ is still in his room, right?"

"Last time I checked, yeah," Dante responded, shutting the refrigerator door. "Why?"

"Have you ever... you know... been inside there?"

The fact was, he hadn't. He had been inside Flash's room a couple of times when he had to fetch his mate for whatever reason and Flash had been inside of his. But he had never been inside of Russ'. From the look on Flash's face, neither had he.

"No..." he admitted.

"What do you think it's like inside there?"

Suddenly, they were two kids wondering what that secret room that their parents told them never to enter. A myriad of scenarios played around in Dante's head, images of various rooms layouts and designs sweeping through his mind from the mundane like a simple room with a bookshelf - Russ was a lawyer after all - to the more demonic including a miniature volcano to something he pictured in his mind considering how many times Virgil disappeared into the room on their hikes.

"Honestly?" he admitted. "I think it's a sex dungeon."

Flash flinched. "What? Why would you think that?"

"Because when my grandpa and I used to go on our hikes, we'd always end up here. Grandpa would let me have some food and watch TV while he went into Russ' room. He'd spend an hour or so there and come back out looking refreshed. Knowing what he know about him and how demons 'refresh' themselves..." He used air quotes to emphasise his point.

"Naw..." Flash said, shaking his head. "I mean, I know your grandpa and Russ were horny fuckers but I'm pretty sure they did it all over the place. I mean, I got their lust all over the gym and I'm fairly sure they did it on the ceiling... somehow. Don't ask me how." Flash shook his head. "Anyway, he's Greek, right? Hercules or Heracles or whatever. I bet it's decked out like some sort of villa. Big columns everywhere and shit."

That was a good point.

"Or it could just be another room..."

No what they concocted, both of them knew they just had to find out. Without another word, both pups charged towards Russ' room and knocked on the door. Dante was bouncing on his toes, eager to see what was beyond the door. Sadly, he was disappointed when Russ opened the door and blocked their view with his enormous hellhound shape. He was also distractingly naked.

"Hey boys," Russ said, smiling. "What's up?" He sniffed the air. "Huh... been baking, Dante? With deception?"

"Yeah," Dante answered. He thought quickly. "Actually, I was hoping we could go shopping. I'd like to make some whipped cream and didn't want to keep conjuring it using my magic. I mean, I can keep drinking my own milk but I'd like to save that for when we need it, you know?"

Russ made a thoughtful face and nodded. "Good point." Then he pointed at the two hellhounds. "But neither of you are going to the grocery store."

Flash and Dante exchanged glances in confusion, momentarily distracted by their quest for what Russ' room looked like. "Why?" they asked in unison.

"Are you kidding me?" Russ laughed. He stepped out of his room and shut the door tightly behind him. "The moment you pass by the meat section, you won't be able to control yourself. It'll be the most food you'll ever have come across in a while. Plus we're in America. The lies put into all the other products will be enough to drive you into a feeding frenzy. You're not ready for that yet."

"Are too," Flash rumbled. "We went to school, right? And that place is full of shit demons like us feed on."

Russ gently tapped his nose. "But they are nullified with positive emotions too. In the grocery store with all that dead cow meat and whatever else, it'll be too much. Trust me. First time I went to a supermarket, Virgil had to drag me to the toilets and blow me there and then to keep me sedated somewhat." He rolled his shoulders absently. "It's why one of the stalls was broken for months..."

"That was you? Awesome!" Flash laughed, lifting his paw for a high five. Russ rolled his eyes and met the gesture with a firm slap.

"Anyway, write down what you need, Dante," Russ said. "I'll go get it."

While Russ' pantry and freezer was certainly stocked with a lot of essentials, there was a distinct lack of fresh vegetables and other perishables. Russ, who had changed back into a human and summoned some clothes, wrinkled his nose at list that Dante gave him which included, among another things, cabbage, carrots, zucchini and some fresh fruits.

"Whatever you make with these better taste good," muttered the legendary hellhound.

He took the list and then jumped into his car. He was off a short moment later, driving down to Angelton proper. Dante and Flash waited for a good long five minutes before both of them bolted for Russ' room door. Flash wiggled the doorknob and cursed.

"Fuck, it's locked." He turned to Dante. "Can you use your magic to open it?"

Dante leaned close to the lock and frowned. There were a lot of demonic energies around the door. Far too complex for him to fully understand given his recent introduction to magic. He straightened and shook his head. "Sorry. It looks like it's magically shut. I can't think of a way to undo it."

"Can't you... I dunno... cast some spell to undo it?"

"It's too complex," Dante answered with a shake of his head. "When you see a magical aura like this, it's really hard to tell what it'll do. Right now, it's just random energy all over the place. Only when it activates will you know what it does and you have a split second to counter act or... boom!"

Flash grimaced at that and crossed his arms, tapping his foot impatiently in search for a solution.

"Maybe we can at least take a peek through a window or something," Dante said, turning towards the back door. "He's got to have a window, right?"

"I'm not settling for a peek," Flash grumbled. "I'm getting through this door one way or another."

Dante rolled his eyes. "Good luck then."

He headed out of the house and began scouting for a window leading into Russ' room. Much to his surprise, he couldn't find one. Just where Russ' room should be, there was just a solid wall. After doubling back a couple of times, he was definitely sure that Russ' room did not have a window at all. Did Russ just rest in absolute darkness? Or did he use magic to hide the window?

CRASH!

Dante jumped at the noise and bolted back into the house. He ground to a halt in front of Russ' door which had been blown open. He caught sight of Flash's red tail waving lightly just beyond the shattered portal.

"Flash! What the hell!?" he cried.

"What?" his mate answered with a shrug. "Only way I was going to get in."

Dante fretted over how they were going to repair the door or how they would explain to Russ that they had invaded his privacy. Russ had been nothing but nice to them, almost a father figure really, and he had done nothing but protect them. And now here they were, trying to break into his private sanctuary. Dante didn't want to seem ungrateful especially since Russ was using what resources he could to find Shaun, Dante's biological father.

"Wow... this place is a little... bland," Flash admitted.

Temporarily setting aside his worry, Dante stepped into the room, his bare paws brushing against soft, dark blue carpet. Windows were indeed absent but there was a large, circular skylight with shutters over the centre of the room. Directly beneath it was what appeared to be a pit in the middle of the room lined with cushions and with a thick, fluffy mattress at the base. A quilt was neatly folded at the centre of the pit. Apart from the odd bedding, it was rather bland for a demon's lair. Plain, concrete walls, a closet, a desk, bookshelf and a cabinet full of some fine liqueurs. Nothing screamed 'former guardian hellhound of the underworld'.

"Yeah..." Dante admitted, inclining his head to the side curiously. He sniffed the air. "I mean the bed is cool but everything else... I was really expecting a sex dungeon."

"Oh I have that."

Both hellhound pups froze, their tails jumping on edge. Russ casually strolled into the room between them towards his bookshelf. There, he pulled a book and the entire shelf slid aside on some hidden mechanism to reveal a flight of stairs leading downwards. Paralysed with shock, Dante nonetheless managed to crane his neck a little and peer down the stairs. He couldn't see much but he was fairly sure he saw some sort of large dildo machine, sort of like a waterwheel with different sized dildos on each of the spokes ready to fuck anyone with an assortment of dicks.

"Uh..." Flash began.

"You two should've just asked if you were curious," Russ said, crossing his arms as the hidden passage began to close again. "There should be no secrets between us. We're in this together. We're..." Russ hesitated for a moment. "...family."

"Sorry..." Dante muttered, ducking his head. "I guess we just thought that because you've never let us in to your room that you were hiding it for a reason..."

Russ glanced around his place and shrugged. "I guess it's just been a habit of mine to lock my room. I'm not used to having guests around for an extended period of time and I've always kept my room sealed just in case some demon or another comes charging in." A soft smile touched his human features. "I remember I used to throw all manner of spells at my door when I was guarding the underworld. Hades would always make his way through and devour whatever fragments of my soul I had recovered. I guess I never really grew out of that..."

A frown touched Dante's lips. "Grandpa always came in here without any trouble."

"That's because I gave him the key."

"Key? What key?"

Russ shrugged and nodded towards the door. "Only I can pass through that door without being hindered. Or rather, those that bear my soul. Since I was Soul Bound with Virgil, he could come in easily enough."

"Oh..."

Russ absently rubbed his chin. "Though I suppose there is another way we could get you unrestricted access to this place. You might like some of the toys I have down in my dungeon."

Dante's tail fluffed out. Having formerly never had an overactive libido, he was somewhat stunned at the suggestion. Though he had become _far_more sexually active in the past week alone, he still couldn't imagine getting some plastic, phallic shaped instrument shoved up his ass.

"How exactly?" Flash asked though there was a glint in his eyes and a swelling in his sheath that suggested that he already knew.

Russ shrugged and began removing his jacket. Through some powerful magic, the rest of his clothes just unbuttoned, unzipped and slipped off his tall, statuesque body. Dante had never seen Russ fully naked as a human before and now that he got to see his mentor's smooth, tanned flesh, chiselled muscles covered in smooth, dark hair, it got his loins stirring. Russ must have exacted some control over the growth of his chest hair since it formed a perfectly trimmed patch of hair over his broad pectorals and a single stream down his belly, outlining the squares of his abs.

The legendary hellhound lowered himself into the circular depression which served as his bed and rolled his shoulders. "I can infuse some of my essence into my cum. It's sort of a one-way Soul Binding. You get a small fragment of my soul to be able to come in here." He gave the two pups a wry smile. "This can be our safe room as well. Some added protection on top of the wards around the house."

"Won't we be Soul Bound to you too?" Dante asked.

Russ shook his head. "No. A true Soul Binding ritual sort of involves..." He paused but then shrugged. "What the hell. You're adults." He gave them both a smirk, his brown eyes shining. "When a demon Soul Binds to another, they generally press their cocks against one another. The giving demon pushes their dick into the receiving demon and passes on some of his soul to the receiver. Then they switch roles."

"So... sort of like docking?" Flash asked.

Dante gave his mate a puzzled look. "They have a name of that? And you know what it's called?"

Flash looked away and blushed. "I've read some of Flint's... erm... literature..."

"Flint writes erotic fiction?"

Shaking his head, Flash said, "We're getting off topic. Russ, you're giving us some of your soul. Won't we need to give you part of ours?"

"Not unless you decide to fuck me or somehow convince me that you're going to stick your cock into mine," Russ answered with a grin. "And _no one_fucks Cerberus." He waved at his flaccid, furry sheath sitting a little out of place against his chiselled, human form. "And this isn't a true Soul Binding ritual. The essence I'm giving you is just infused with your body. Not your soul. If, for whatever reason, your body is destroyed, your soul will be its own, no taint from me."

Dante inclined his head to the side, bending one ear slightly as he eyed Russ' aura. The big hellhound was doing an excellent job at hiding it. There were no colourful auras around him and he was just a blank slate but that only made the younger hellhound all the more suspicious. Even Flash was emitting a distinct aura of guilt and curiosity. But Russ was blank. He suspected that Flash didn't pick it up because he wasn't quite used to having 'demon vision' on all the time and separating it from what he used to see the world as but for Dante, it was a glaringly obvious.

Russ rolled his shoulders and grunted. "Just give me a second to change."

Having never truly seen Russ change in depth, Dante was rather curious to see the older hellhound shed his mortal disguise. Russ stretched his big feet and let out a soft grunt. His toes began to plump up, black claws taking the place of his nails. Black leathery pads emerged at the base of his feet, forming a solid base. The dark hairs on the back of his foot began to grow thicker and thicker, spreading rapidly across his entire appendage to form a coat of fur. Russ wiggled his toes, urging the transformation further and further. His cheeks began to turn a little pink and Dante realised that it must've been rather... embarrassing to just be sitting in the middle of the room, on display and transforming. He likened it to strutting down a runway.

It didn't help that Dante had no idea what he should be doing during the change. He glanced back and forth between Flash and Russ, noting how both of them were a little flushed. Flash was trying to seem fascinated by the far wall but his green eyes just kept flicking back towards the scene of Russ changing in front of them.

"To hell with it..." Dante rumble and suddenly strode forward much to Russ and Flash's shock.

"Dante, what are you -?" Russ didn't get to finish before Dante jumped into the circular bed with Russ and picked up one of the hellhound's big feet. Dante pushed his muzzle against that big foot, his wet, warm nose pushing up against Russ' leathery pads. He took a deep breath, catching the strong scent of his mentor.

Though he had never had much of a libido to speak of, Dante still had some fantasies and now that he was a demon and relatively alone, he decided to act upon it. He drew his tongue along the sole of Russ' foot, slowly lapping at the pads as he worked his way up to the toes.

Russ let out a soft rumble and a grunt as his body responded to the attention. He hadn't had anyone touch him so sensually in a long time that he could barely control the thick veins began pushing up against his calves, pumping demonic power through the muscles and causing them to stretch and grow. He let out a soft moan when Dante's flexible tongue wrapped around his big toe. His eyes boggled as Virgil's grandson suckled on his big toe. With the growing mass of his leg, he was inadvertently pushing his toe deeper into Dante's muzzle. Though he tried to pull out, the growth just kept pushing it further in. Dirty thoughts of something else he could be shoving into Dante's mouth filled his mind and urged the change up his thighs.

The already thick muscles all over the hellhound's thighs ballooned into the enormous barrels of tightly packed, lean muscle pressed up against his human flesh. Veins pressed up against the walls of his skin only to be smoothened out by the rapid growth of his thick hairs to form his pelt. Even then, several blood vessels remain visible against his dark fur.

With quivering paws, Dante reached up and rubbed Russ' thighs, quivering in delight as he finally got to touch the titanic mounds that could carry the entire mass of the legendary hellhound all over the place. The thought that it was these same muscles that his grandfather adored only spurned him on and he wondered if some part of Virgil was singing through him now as his cock began to emerge from its sheath. With his free paw, he gently guided Russ' other paw towards his groin where he pressed that warm sole against his emerging, leaking dick. Russ took the cue and pushed his huge foot against Dante's member, forcibly pressing the throbbing pole against Dante's tensed abdominals.

Then, a third body joined them and Dante looked up to see Flash sliding into the circular bad beside Russ. The bigger hellhound was blushing deeply as he settled beside Russ, clumsily positioning himself and sitting a little awkwardly beside their mentor. Flash looked like he wasn't sure what to do as his paw hovered over Russ' chest. Russ' chest expanded to meet Flash's paw, pectorals rising into titanic mounds with big, black, erect nipples as their apex. Flash instinctively pulled away with a soft whimper.

Dante felt a bit of pity for his mate and though he was loathed to let go of Russ' enormous feet, he pulled away and crawled up beside Russ, occupying Russ' other flank. He curled his arm around Russ' chest, gently gripping Flash's paw and pulling it to touch the eldest hellhound's rising chest. The contact from the two young hellhound pups caused Russ to emit a loud rumbling noise, one that grew louder and deeper as his chest continued to expand.

Russ wrapped his enormous arms around the two hellhounds, shoulders expanding to accommodate bringing the members of his pack into a comfortable, warm embrace. His biceps bulged out to become even bigger than either pups' head, triceps tripling in size; instruments to defend his pack with. A distinct alpha mentality began creeping in and though common sense warned him against it, he couldn't resist his instincts especially as his forearms inflated and his paws emerged, full of power and strength.

He grunted and pulled the two hellhounds against his chest, feeling the warmth radiating from their bodies helping to fuel him. He arched his neck backwards, letting out a soft howl. As the dulcet notes left his lips, his jaw stretched, jutting forward and reshaping into a lupine muzzle. The black fur that covered his legs spread up all over his chest, the highlights of the fur accentuating every curve of his godly chest. As they spread up his neck, his ears migrated to the top of his, transforming into the sharp, triangular dishes designed for picking up the faintest noise. They reached their true shape by the time the rest of his dark fur covered the rest of his face.

Now fully transformed, Russ was panting and would've pushed the two hellhound away so that he could prepare himself for the transfer of his 'key' but both boys did something surprising.

Finally feeling a little more comfortable with being with a man, Flash lowered himself long Russ' body and began absently lapping at the big hellhound's nipple much like how he had suckled on Dante's nipples for nourishment. The sensation was electric for Russ and his pectorals tensed. The feeling of those iron hard muscles beneath the soft fur aroused Flash all the more. These were muscles to be worshiped, a true god's chest. It was a chest that he aspired to have and he wanted to take in every amazing detail, every inch of corded muscle, and commit it to memory.

He ran his paws over both enormous mounds. Though he tried to squeeze them, they resisted; like trying to squeeze balls of steel. Over and over, he pressed his fingers against the enormous cavernous cleft the two plump pectorals made, trying to worm a finger between them but it was an impossible endeavour. He could actually feel the individual bands of muscle beneath the skin and the fur.

Dante, finally able to act on his deepest fantasies, pushed his muzzle deep into Russ' hairy armpit. The thick tufts of brown hair carried Russ' manly scent into his nostrils, trigging primal instincts of lust, submission and a deep desire to pleasure his alpha. Dante's cock leaked precum madly all over Russ' side, telling the alpha hellhound just how needy his pups were. Dante gently lapped at Russ' armpit. Whether he realised it or not, it was an act of submission and one that heavily empowered Russ.

The smallest of the hellhound trio wrapped his legs around Russ', his feet brushing up against Russ' own. The contact with the object that started his arousal sent waves of pleasure up Dante's entire body. He was quivering with excitement as he continued to greedily devour his alpha's scent. His paws roamed freely over Russ' body, touching the ridges of the alpha hellhound's abdominals until he was met with something hard, wet and volcanically hot.

He peered down and felt a pang of disappointment. He hadn't seen Russ' three enormous dicks emerge from his sheath. Still, the three, throbbing members were just too tempting to pass up. Dante pulled away from Russ' pit and wrapped his lips around the closest dick. Russ gasped, his hips bucking instinctively as a wave of pleasure washed over him. Though Russ tried to protest, Dante began using his tongue to good use, slipping and sliding all over the tapered point, lathering the two foot member with his warm drool.

Taking the lead of his mate, Flash eagerly seized another dick. He decided not to overthink what he was doing and just gobbled up the dick. He realised his mistake a little too late as he pushed the member up against the back of his throat and a jet of precum shot down unprepared throat. He gagged and spluttered. He was forced to pull away but lapped up the drips of precum that lathered his muzzle. Dante snickered softly at him and even went so far as to take more of Russ' cock into his muzzle.

Not to be outdone, Flash braced himself. This time, he wrapped his lips around the tip of the throbbing member. When that first burst of precum shot down into his throat, he was still a little surprised but he swallowed the salty fluids, getting used to the taste. It was different, certainly, but something he could get behind. Though the precum continued to pour into his muzzle like a leaky faucet, he found a rhythm and slowly began descending down the massive length. The more of Russ' dick was pushed into his muzzle the closer and closer he felt to both the legendary hellhound and Dante. It was really the first sexual experience they shared since that first night even if Russ was acting like a bridge between them.

For his part, Russ couldn't believe what was happening. He had both pups sucking one of his dick's each. Sure, back in Hell after Hades' fall, he sometimes had up to eight demons attending him at any one time - one for each dick, one for each nipple, a dick in each paw and one kissing him. But this... this was something special. This had meaning and it gave the powerful sensations that he got from the two pups suckling on his cocks, begging him to fill them with his seed, that just spoke to his soul. His very essence wanted to leap straight out of his mortal shell and dive straight into these two young hellhounds and be one with them.

He almost lost it entirely when Dante seized his remaining dick in one massive paw, running his paw over its length. Dante's progress was stopped by Flash who grabbed the upper half of the member and began pumping from halfway up. The twin sensations were two jackhammers urging Russ' engorged balls to explode. Cerberus grunted and gnashed his fangs together.

"Fuuuuuck!" he rumbled.

It was too soon. He had just transformed and the alpha male in him did not want to cum first. Virility was a defining aspect of a hellhound. He couldn't show any weakness to the two pups who looked up to him not only because he wanted to assure them that he could protect them but to ensure he dominance. Flash was getting pretty big and as a Generator, Dante had to potential to be very manipulative. He needed to make sure they knew who was top dog. If he couldn't stop himself from cumming, he had to at least produce more than them or cum more than one.

Knowing he needed to get the pups off as well whatever the case, Russ seized the cocks of his two pack mates, wrapping his huge hands over them and jerking them in tandem with each of his thrusts. He set the pace and rhythm and the two pups were eagerly followed his lead. He didn't want to slow down and but neither did he increase the pace. Not until Dante began to let out a soft whimper and was practically begging for release.

Russ allowed himself a little grin as he watched his smallest pup lap at his cock, telling his alpha that he needed to cum so badly. Flash was a little more resilient but within moment, he too had his ears folded back and tail lifted, an open invitation of submission. Russ was really the top dog now. He let out a grunt, warning his pups that he was going to be kicking things up a notch. He gave them five seconds to prepare themselves. Then he began thrusting harder and harder. The two pups adoringly took the massive members into their muzzles without complaint. In fact, they began wildly humping his paws, leaking increasingly thickening precum in between his fingers.

Russ could feel the pressure starting to build in his balls and he prepared himself to put a little bit of himself into his seed so that the two pups could pass through the door into his room. A pang of doubt struck him, however. No one had ever had the privilege to freely come and go into his inner sanctum save for one other person and that was his soul mate. Was he really ready for such a step?

As if sensing his doubt, Dante pulled away from his dick and suddenly pushed his lips against Russ'. The contact sent waves of warmth, adoration and trust into Russ. Though he knew that it was Dante's Generator powers at work, he could sense that the feelings were genuine. He opened his muzzle and let Dante dive in a little closer and brush their tongue against one another ever so briefly. Then Dante pulled away, gave him a small smile and went back to work worshiping his monster dick.

His fears allayed, Russ squeezed down on his pups' cocks and began pushing both of them to orgasm. His powerful aura seeped into them, encompassing them and filling them with lust, strength and the overwhelming desire to please their alpha and only their orgasm would bring him satisfaction. Their physical, intimate contact was enough for him to command them and the fact that neither male opposed the command made things so much easier.

Dante and Flash both let out a whimper, their brows knotting in concentration as their massive dicks tensed. Their balls gurgled audibly. Russ immediately let go of their dicks and seized the back of their heads, stopping them from pulling away to let out a howl. Their cocks erupted in powerful bursts, white, glowing demonic seed shooting out of the doggie poles with the force of a firehose. As they were sitting opposite from one another, they sprayed each other in their demonic seed.

Seeing his pups covered in seed was the final straw for Russ. He tilted his head back and let out an earth-shattering howl. All three of is cocks shot his seed spectacularly in three directions. Dante was fully prepared and gobbled up the cum with ease. But Flash was caught up in his own orgasm that he was stunned by the blast of seed that flooded into his muzzle. He gagged and instinctively pulled away but Russ' strong paw kept him down and he obediently drank the essence offered to him. Russ' third cock shot the sticky, white fluids high into the air, allowing it to rain back down on them like a glorious shower.

Russ dipped into his soul, just taking off a little fragment each for Dante and Flash. For Dante, he took his fond memory of when the young man was born and he stood beside Virgil beaming and congratulating Shaun. For Flash, he took that affection he felt the previous night when he had kissed the young man in a slip of his self-control. Both were fond memories that were very precious to him. He let the shards slip into his balls where he then directed them up the two cocks buried into his pups' muzzles.

There, he made sure that they entered the bodies of his pack mates where they were immediately absorbed and metabolised, infusing into their very bodies. Now that the administrative steps were done, Russ let himself get swept away in the waves of pleasure from orgasm and leaned back into his little pit-like bed.

Ten minutes later, the flood of seed from all three hellhounds finally ebbed, the sheets absolutely soaked with their sticky, white cum. Russ had enchanted the sheets to collect the seed and use its demonic energies to strengthen the wards around the house so he ran no risk of it being corrupted.

Content and feeling warm both from the contact with his two pups and glow from his soul, Russ pulled his two pups up against him, letting them curl their bodies against his larger frame. Dante buried his muzzle adorably against Russ' armpit, breathing in his alpha's scent and letting the warmth take him away to slumber. Flash nuzzled Russ' big chest, comforted by the strength they offered and letting their image infuse to his very mind and essence.

For Russ... he was just happy to have something resembling a family.

******

"Buck? Buck Goldman?"

That nasally, overly patronising voice could only come from one person and it was a person that Buck had hoped to avoid at all costs. Forcing a smile onto his face, Buck turned around to meet Jeremiah 'Gold' Weathers. Everything about Weathers screamed opulence and wealth. He was the type of rich businessman who was rich and knew it. He wore his favourite green suit that had hundred dollar print all over its surface and a diamond studded green tie. He had even gone so far as to colour his sleeked back hair an unnatural gold colour. The natural brown of his eyes were coloured gold thanks to a pair of contacts.

"Jerry," Buck greeted, trying to sound pleasant even though he was sure the venom dripping from his voice could burn a hole to the Earth's core. "What are you doing here of all places?"

Jeremiah stepped up to Buck, completely sidestepping him and looking up at the devastated Goldman manor. He let out an exaggerated sigh and gave Buck a pitying smile. "I heard what happened to your place and I just _had_to come here and offer my support."

Of course he did. If arrogant weasel could slip in a few quips and insults, so much the better.

"I truly am sorry about what happened," said Buck's former classmate and ex-friend. His expression looked genuinely sympathetic. "Is your family alright? Flash? Flint?" He purposefully didn't mention Dick which still spoke of how much they knew one another. It also spoke volumes about how many tabs Jeremiah kept on Buck. Not that Buck didn't return the gesture.

"They're fine and staying in town," Buck responded, relaxing a little. He glanced around at the various construction workers who were milling about, trying to clear the rubble. "I'm just glad that they're safe. We can rebuild."

"Didn't you make your home earthquake proof?" Jeremiah asked.

And so it began.

"We're in the north west of the country. Chances of an earthquake are slim and I didn't consider it a viable investment."

Jeremiah's eyes glinted with arrogance. "But you simply can't put a price on your family's safety, can you?" Before Buck could answer, he waved his own question away absently with a hand that had so many rings that every bride in the world would go without a wedding band. "Where are you staying? Are you alright? You seem to be... slumming it."

He eyed the plain shirt that Buck wore, stretched across the former's broad chest. A faint logo of a sportswear company was etched on the left pectoral. It was a far-flung difference from what he usually wore which mostly consisted of black suits, slacks and ties. That Buck was also wearing a pair of borrowed shorts and sneakers didn't help matters. Buck had left Ethan's home feeling good about how he looked but now...

"I am simply getting in touch with my more... physical side," Buck answered. He lifted an arm and flexed, showing off his impressive arms, veins popping even through the fabric of his shirt. Jeremiah's features fell at the sight of such a specimen of strength and masculinity. Comparing his twig-like physique to that upper arm alone was enough of a crushing blow to derail whatever insults he had in store.

"I can't imagine why Mariah ever left you," he muttered.

The counterattack was meek and underhanded. Buck was unaffected as he lowered his arm and puffed out his chest to the point where the shirt audibly groaned in protest. "Well you've now seen the state of my home and the progress we're making. Is there anything else I could do for you?"

Clearly, his rival had only hoped to come over and brag but his momentum lost, he was paralysed and unable to do much. However, old hatreds and spite kept him from leaving things there.

"Progress?" Jeremiah asked. "Why not take me for a tour of your home? I am curious to see how the industrious Buck Goldman has managed to bounce back from a disaster that has blown away our little town."

'Little town', a term Jeremiah always used to refer to Angelton. It had been Jeremiah that had instilled great ambitions and the drive for success into a young Buck. They had been best friends since elementary school and Jeremiah had always been the adventurous one, pushing the limits of their young minds. But a wedge had been driven between them when they had both graduated from college and got into the same company.

That wedge was Mariah Hawthorne... Buck's wife.

"Sure," Buck rumbled. "I'm afraid I cannot show you much given the state of the place and the hazards."

"I have never been one for the safe route."

That statement held true for his entire life. While Buck buckled down and worked, Jeremiah flirted with the Mariah and tried to sweep her off her feet. She was a talented programmer and he was ambitious and charismatic. Though Mariah enjoyed the attention, it was Buck's drive for success that had attracted her to him. Jeremiah noticed this and started accusing Buck of stealing 'his girl' even though Buck just wanted to succeed.

When Buck got promoted and Jeremiah didn't, the deal was sealed and Mariah began favouring Buck more and more. The more Buck rose up the corporate ladder, the more the two drew closer and Jeremiah was pushed further and further away. Eventually, Jeremiah quit before Buck could gained ownership of the company and dissolved it.

That was many years ago but old wounds were the hardest to heal.

A worker offered them hardhats and Buck took one but Jeremiah refused it saying that it would mess up his hair. They strode into the ruined atrium of the manor that was now clear of all rubble so that all the damage was visible. Buck winced loudly at how the entire eastern side of the house just seemed to have split off from the rest of the house like someone had seized it and gave it a mighty tug. He knew that a short distance into the rear of the house, there would be a large hole in the floor where he had transformed and fallen through the floorboards, landing in the cellar.

"The quakes really did a number on this place," Jeremiah said, genuinely awed. "I'm amazed you and your boys got out safe and sound." He glanced over his shoulder. "No one else was hurt, were they? Your maids? Butlers?"

"We don't have maids or butlers," Buck responded. "The boys are old enough to take care of themselves and definitely don't need people waiting on them hand and foot." Then under his breath and in a growl, he added, "Especially Dick."

"Good to hear. It seems your money grubbing has actually saved lives."

Buck's massive hand tightened into a fist and he had to take a minute to calm himself as Jeremiah wandered into the nearby lounge room alone. He took a few deep breaths and let it out slowly. This was going to be a trying time. What had begun as just a nice little check up on how the house was progressing turned into an aggravating exercise of self-control.

"And old friend turned enemy?"

The voice was alien to him and it belonged to a strange man who had suddenly appeared beside him. Buck made a habit of not showing his emotions especially to strangers but he was surprised at the rather... unorthodox appearance of the man. The white hair, red eyes and matching red duster jacket were all rather surprising.

"Who are you? Are you allowed to be here?"

"I was asked to be here," answered the man. He held out his hand to Buck. "My name is Havoc Mors. Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Goldman."

Buck shook the offered hand. "How do you know my name?"

"Who else would be here inspecting the grounds of his own shattered home?"

"Fair point..." He hiked a shoulder over his shoulder at where Jeremiah had disappeared. "And he is an... acquaintance. No one important." He nodded at Havoc. "Shouldn't you be wearing a hard hat? It's dangerous here."

Havoc gave him an eerily mysterious smile. "The most dangerous thing here is you, Mr. Goldman. And if you haven't attacked me or your 'acquaintance' already, I'm sure I'm safe."

Buck frowned at the man. "What are you implying?"

The strange man crossed his arms, tapping his elbow absently. "Sloth Demons aren't usually this... active. Though I guess there are many forms sloth can take. By its definition, sloth is a reluctance to work or make an effort, laziness, indolence, inactivity, apathy. But you seem to be quite fascinated by your newfound powers and are even actively exploring it. Though, by your history, I think it's rather fitting."

A sense of dread was seeping up Buck's chest. "What are you talking about...?"

"Tell me something, Mr. Goldman. Why didn't you reconcile with your son, Richard? Why did you just deal with Flint's homosexuality by throwing him into a co-ed school? Why did you just leave Flash to his own devices? Why didn't you chase after Mariah after she left and took much of your assets away from you?"

That dread was turning into downright terror but Buck found himself incapable of moving. "Who are you...?"

"Someone with a vested interest in how you develop," Havoc responded, a sinister grin on his features. "You see, just because you're a Sloth Demon, it doesn't mean that you're just lazy towards everything. Though some people could see your go-getter attitude towards your job and success as the _opposite_of laziness, in reality, it was just a cover. You never made an effort to change yourself. You were stuck in your ways and just could not be bothered to accept change, to embrace chaos."

Buck puffed out his chest against the smaller man. "You have a lot of balls accusing me of such bullshit when I'm bigger than you!"

"And how exactly did you gain this newfound bulk?" Havoc asked, lifting any eyebrow. "One could interpret this desire to obtain this size without any effort at all as another aspect of sloth." He lifted his hands. "Not that I'm criticising you. As I said, becoming a Sloth Demon is rather fitting for you. It's just that you embody idleness more than... you know, lack of energy. You just keep running along the same hamster wheel, making no real progress and ignoring any chances for change."

"I'm trying to learn about my condition!" Buck roared, thrusting a thumb against his chest.

"Are you trying to cure it?" countered Havoc. "After your transformation, what did you do with your power? You ran away and found some place to hole up. You've been changing every now and then, enjoying the pleasure of this power and just sitting idly by, basking in your form. The only time you made progress is when you accidentally stumbled onto another ability of yours. It's not something you're actively seeking. You're guided to it. The situation forces you to it and you lazily inch towards it until you come to a comfortable stopping point and then withdraw. Any other demon would've turned Ethan by now. Probably fucked him silly. And that meek little chatterbox Harry? Would've made an excellent thrall. But you..."

Havoc shook his head and sighed heavily. "Oh well, what can you truly expect from a demon of Sloth?" He turned around and began heading out the door. "Just do me a favour, Mr. Goldman, when the other demons come to claim you, _try_to make an effort to resist. I know it's against your nature but you were human... once."

Buck wanted to go after him, charge after Havoc and cave his skull in with a fist but... Deep down, those words rang true. He never considered it before but... perhaps the only reason he was ever successful was because of luck. He was so adverse to change that he just became good at what he did, he became the best at what he did. The only time he took up an opportunity was when it was thrust at him. His promotion to head of a company, Mariah, his kids and even his demonic form... It was all out of his control and he just... dealt with it. He didn't fight it. Even what he did was Harry was driven by just how annoying the kid was.

The only person that ever really drove him to be better was... Ethan.

"Hey Buck!" Jeremiah called from the adjacent room. "You coming?"

Buck's fists tightened.

No more.

So he was a Sloth Demon, was he?

"Let's just see how the world deals with the best goddamn Sloth Demon there is," he snarled.

******

"Devious."

Havoc turned back towards the Goldman manor as thick, demonic energies began emanating from the ruined home. The fire had been lit and now it had fuel and was roaring into a full inferno. It would only be a matter of time before it threatened to consumed Angelton.

"Sloth is one of the hardest emotions to truly pin down," Havoc responded. "If I didn't stoke the fires, he wouldn't just languished in his own home, growing fat and eventually starving. He'll have fed on maybe one or two people but he doesn't know enough about Sloth Demons and how they work to create thralls capable of serving him. Even if he did, he would never have thought to bring others to him to feed upon."

Jacob snapped the book in his hands shut, his leg dangling idly over the edge of the branch he was perched upon. "He was on a slippery slope indeed. He's spent the past two weeks just at Ethan's place and hadn't made a single inch of progress at all. At least the others have been actively feeding though none of them have made any other demons quite yet. Buck just _recently_started feeding. Any longer and you're right. He would've starved. Likely died."

Havoc narrowed his eyes as a scream erupted from the Goldman manor to be abruptly cut off. It wasn't a cry of terror. "Was this really the best path to take? There is just... so much difficulty ahead with this..."

"Nope."

He jerked his head towards the tree where the leader of the No Ones sat, idly reading a different book.

"What do you mean?"

"Definitely not the best path to take," Jacob responded. "Could've just as easily hinted to Flash where his dad was and maybe had them reconcile a bit. They could've been allies. Conversely, you could've led Buck to Dick and those two could've been together. Maybe thrown Flint in there to make an unholy trinity that, while still heartbreaking in some respect, would be far easier to deal with than what you've set up now and for the other demons. You _could've_also just called Virgil around."

Havoc gave his superior a sour look. "Not all of us have your eyes."

"But you do have the capability to fully assess your situation and traverse time and space to see what your actions will lead to." Jacob peered at him through his silver sunglasses. "I won't accuse you of being lazy, Havoc. I know better. You just took this course because, for one, it'll be difficult and cause a hell of a lot of chaos. Another point is that you were genuinely concerned for Buck's wellbeing and considering how fast he was succumbing to his languor, it was a commendable move. Also, I think you just want to see someone cock vored."

Though he tried to keep a still face, Havoc couldn't help the broad grin that crossed his features. "I'll admit to having some excitement on that prospect." He lifted his eyebrow at Jacob. "If you knew this wasn't the best course, why didn't you say something?"

Jacob shut the book in his hands again. "Because this is your story, Havoc. I'm only saying something now to allay your doubts and fears. We _are_still mortal, after all. Though you may manipulate these creatures of emotion, you are not invulnerable to the influence of the very emotions that they feed upon either."

The Harbinger of Havoc laughed softly and shook his head. "Right... of course." He looked up at Jacob with a smile. "Whose book are you reading anyway?"

"Barhir Agarwal's."

Havoc lifted an eyebrow. "That lacrosse team player who was turned into a Pride Demon and accompanied Edward to Hell? What of him?"

"He's about to give birth." Jacob gave Havoc a grin. "Wanna watch?"

Havoc smirked. "Sure. Why the hell not?"