The Hoara Badlands was a collection of vast stretches of arid desert sand and scorching sun blasted wastes, with only a few pockets of civilization scattered around to fuel any travelers unlucky enough to find themselves crossing the treacherous terrain. If the overwhelming heat of the sun wasn't enough, then the fearsome sandworms and roaming packs of rabid beasts would surely spell the end for anyone wandering into their territory.
Alongside the danger, there was also treasure to be found, with a large number of ruins scattered across the sands from an ancient civilization long forgotten just waiting to be discovered and their riches plundered. Except many of these reliquaries were booby trapped. Ranging from simple pitfalls that were guaranteed to break a leg to enchanted items meant to lure in the unwary before applying a curse or casting a spell the moment physical contact was made.
But an enterprising mind could very easily make use of such tools, with their value rising high above simple treasure if one could safely extract these enchanted items before decoding the scripture used to give form to such dangerous magic. Allowing them complete monopoly over their newfound spell if the enchantment in question was unique.
It was that very same lure that drove a small roving band of opportunists to the heart of the Badlands where the likelihood of finding ruins untouched by human hands for millenia was high. Cutting through sandstorms, swathes of monsters and the sweltering heat with hope in their hearts.
And like an answer to their prayers, the small group would eventually come across an oasis, sheltered by the natural spires of sandstone and centered around rundown pillars and derelict buildings with the dust of time hanging in the air, mottled green veins of hardened plant life sustained by the oasis spreading out into the ruins. A small slice of heaven in the middle of hell.
Setting down their packs and preparing for a quick search, three of the four man party sets off deeper into the ruins, leaving a lanky young man named Crawford behind to guard the rear in case they needed to retreat or if any of them ended up getting into trouble. With Hendrick; a former knight, warning him not to run off on his own.
But being told to stay behind while the rest of them got to poke around ancient ruins didn't sit right with Crawford. When he signed on to join the party, he had hoped to be the one to make a significant discovery. And after a treacherous journey, he was being sidelined in favour of guard duty.
An unacceptable proposition…
And so, the adventure hungry lad sets off after making sure he was alone, hooking up the camel they would use to ferry any loot they found onto a sturdy rock jutting out from the walls before heading off down an unexplored path, eager to begin his hunt for relics and treasure.
Unbeknownst to Crawford however, this would be the last time he would ever have the freedom to make his own decisions, no matter how reckless or dangerous they were…
"Damn place was bigger than I expected…there's even a whole underground section!"
Crawford wasn't aware of how much time had already passed since he'd left his post to go spelunking, but the wondrous sights of water hanging in midair as the sunlight from a crack in the ceiling retracts into a multicolored ray that lights up the entire subterranean chamber he could only assume was a library of sorts, glancing over the many rows of chiselled stone shelves and sun bleached sheets of yellowed paper lying on the floor. All while wondering what marvelous architects had the audacity to think this extravagant. The thrill of adventure burning in his chest.
But while the views were jaw dropping, Crawford had been sure to keep an open eye out for traps, stepping slowly and carefully over the tiled floor. From all the stories he'd heard, danger always lay in ruins such as these, captivating explorers with marvelous views that blinded them to the pressure plates underfoot or the whisker thin trip wires suspended between a hallway.
While he admired the strange carvings and alien architecture of the sturdy structures that had survived for so long without crumbling away, a tiny bit of Crawford couldn't help but feel envious, realizing just how far behind his people were despite calling themselves a 'modern' civilization.
"To think the people that came before us were this advanced…wait…what is that…"
There, on the second floor landing, Crawford could see the shadow of someone standing behind a large stone slab that seemed to serve as a landmark of sorts. But this far away, Crawford wasn't sure if his eyes were playing tricks on him or if there really was someone right there. He needed to get closer.
Picking up the pace, the young man soon spots a crevice in the pathway ahead, debris and toppled shelves serving as a makeshift ramp and impromptu stairway to the second floor below, carefully inching his way down until his feet hits stable ground again before continuing towards the landmark slab.
And sure enough, it was a person…or at least, she looked human enough, wearing strange clothes reminiscent of the locals at the desert towns but decorated with ornaments and gold embossing. A large striped collar around her slim neckline concealed beneath a flowing head of chestnut brown hair.
But it was her more 'striking' features that attracted Crawford's attention. His eyes locked on the big bushy tail that rose up from behind her rear to the stiff pair of furry ears atop her head. It was like looking at a crossbreed between a human and an animal, especially evident in the large paws that held up a stack of books. But as he approached her, Crawford could feel a cold sense of unease creep down his spine as he stares at her youthful face; soft cheeks framing a small mouth, atop which sits a cute button of a nose…between two lifeless green eyes looking straight ahead in a deathly stare.
'The hell is she…and how long has she been standing there? Is she even…alive?'
As beautiful as she was, what concerned him was how she didn't seem to take notice of him at all even as he drew close enough to see how dirty her clothes were along with the dust that caked her fur, holding on to a pile of books as if she was midway through sorting the library shelves before time came to a halt, leaving her stuck in place for who knows how long until Crawford finally came upon her.
Reaching a hesitant hand out toward her, Crawford ruffles the fur on her wrists, the steady thump of a heartbeat beneath indicating that she was still alive…
It was subtle, but out of the corner of his eye, Crawford could see her emerald green pupils swivel to face him, something about how ‘empty’ they were instilling a primal fear within him as he jumped away from her. But other than that, she didn’t move an inch.
“H-Hello? Can you hear me?”
He wasn’t sure if she could understand English, but Crawford wasn’t the type to give in so easily, waving a gloved hand slowly in a friendly gesture. But whether or not she truly understood what he meant, it didn’t show on her face, which hadn’t budged an inch, not even a twitch of the eye.
Something strange was going on here…
But no matter how hard he looked, Crawford could find nothing strange with the surrounding area. No advanced mechanism keeping her locked in place or an enemy waiting in the shadows after conjuring up bait to lure Crawford in.
That was when he notices something strange going on with the dark blue collar wrapped tightly around the demihuman girls neck, the small gemstone that had once laid inert in the centerpiece emitting a faint crimson glow, pulsing like a heartbeat with its eye catching sparkle earning the full attention of the bewildered human, his eyes firmly locked on to the gemstone embedded in the center of the collar. “Pretty…”
Enraptured by the strange ornament, Crawford moves forward, stunted like a ghoul, shuffling towards the petrified girl as he lifts her silky hair off her shoulders, finding clasps he never knew about with an invisible puppeteer guiding his every move. A prisoner in his own body as his mind runs wild with panic, struggling to regain control as he watches himself lift the collar off the demihuman girl, before bringing it around his own neck,
‘Stop…don’t put that…on!’
But resistance was futile. Even as he screams at himself not to carry on with the deed, the cold bite of the heavy ornate collar already weighed down around his shoulders, clasping the metal clamps shut before his hands fall limp by his side.
It started as a tingle; like a serpent writhing under Crawford’s skin as it pierces the nape of his neck just barely covered by the collar, slinking into his flesh as it coils around his spine, worming its way upward until eventually reaching his soft brain, manifesting as a pleasant haze in Crawford's mind, making it hard to think while dulling his senses, easing the panic building within him.
Akin to a sculptor adding water to a lump of solid clay, the invisible force that had taken ahold of Crawford begins its work, spreading splotches of light cocoa over his pasty hide with a brush, erasing blemishes, scars and body hair wherever It touched, leaving behind a naturally oily sheen of brown skin shimmering in the light.
Seeing it first hand was a startling sight, but with the cumbersome weight pressing down on his cranium and the soothing effects it brought with it, Crawford could do little but shiver in place, only able to twitch his fingers lightly as they begin to bloat, expanding together to form a large paw tipped with midnight black razors much like the demihuman before him. Except his were notably larger, and judging by the smooth tufts of dark blue fur tapering off into wispy ash beginning to encase his newly transfigured limbs; far more extravagant.
But it wasn't just Crawford's arms that were changing, for beneath his tunic and leather pants, the rest of his body was undergoing their own extreme alterations, overseen by the collar as the strange force works its magic; kneading as muscle as it ebbs and flows like putty, reforming into lean fat and tender flesh, redistributing themselves across his body as its broad, blocky build gives way to a far more gentle, curvaceous figure lined from head to toe with eye-catching curves; given shape from a cinched in waist leading down to an expanded set of hips perfect for rearing children.
Only instead of human legs, the snap of bones and reforming sinew joins the chorus of shifting biomass and subtle grunts and groans escaping from Crawford's puckered mouth, the face of the adventurous youth having long since been changed into one that better matched his new body. Complete with foxy eyes that slanted upward, permanently bestowing his face with a seductive leer that complemented his lean nose and rosy cheeks, flushed red with fervent blush as he continues to resist despite the futility of it all as his legs finish reforming into triple jointed limbs ending off in the hind legs of a bipedal canine, sporting a thick crown of fur around the heels to lend them some measure of regal flair.
At this point, Crawford no longer resembles anything close to what one might imagine a young boisterous man to be. Looking more like the demihuman woman who still stood frozen in place, watching through dead eyes as small mounds begin to push against the tunic, slowly gaining mass until a hefty bosom far larger than her own begins to strain the fabric, fat darkened nipples leading the charge as the firm milkers flop over Crawford's slender chest, settling atop a hardened core that retained just enough muscle to form a sexy navel that rose and fell with each breath. And just below the attraction, a hairy crown of pubes forms atop the dripping entryway to a warm organic tunnel where his proud member once stood in defiance of the changes, silenced in one go as it slurps back up inside of Crawford's body, bucking her hips in response with the instinctual moan of a matriarch escaping her in tune with a large furry tail blooming atop her heart shaped ass cheeks, twitching in the throes of orgasm as her hazy blue eyes roll back up inside her head.
'I…what happened…to me?'
Left with those thoughts lingering in her mind after the deluge of pleasant sensations wrought by the transformation, the dark skinned demi human female standing before her kin dressed in ill fitting clothes completes her transition as a pair of ears much like that of the frozen librarian emerges from atop her cranium, parting ruffled hair as it tumbles down around her body in voluminous curtains of black silk, tickling the shapely rump of Crawford's new body through her trousers as the tingle in her brain intensifies, becoming a constant audible buzz that, with each passing second, made the simple act of thinking so much more harder than it already was.
But even still, what was left of Crawford’s rapidly fading mind fought to regain control of herself, evident in the way her trembling limbs struggled to rise up, to tear off the heavy ornate collar around her neck.
'Can't…lose…Have to focus…Have to remember…remember who I am?'
It was a futile effort in the end, as the buzz escalates into a mind rending screech alongside the formation of a golden headdress tipped with the intimidating bust of a serpent , the only thought left in Crawford's mind as her blue eyes become subsumed by crimson orbs burning with fiery ire was a simple question, spoken in the soft voice of a woman, whose alluring looks belied a voracious hunger to fill the empty void she felt deep in her belly; "Who am I?"
Before the world falls into darkness around her, the life of an adventure hungry man soon becoming a distant dream to be forgotten in the depths of her reformatted mind…
She had awoken in a strange yet familiar place, blinking her weary eyes as she glanced around the ruined remnants of what was once the Grand Archive, where her Masters and their kind kept all their historical records and literature.
But something within her mind clicks for a moment as she rises up off the cold floor, arching her back and yawning in a drawn out manner while stretching her stiff legs, frowning as she catches sight of the foreign clothes clinging to her body; A baggy tunic that grazes uncomfortably against her skin and long thick leggings that made moving incredibly hard, chafing against her tail much to her annoyance as she lets out a low growl. She didn’t like how the fabric wrapped all around her body, leaving barely anything besides her neck and face exposed. It was instinctual knowledge for a Jackalkin slave of her caliber to be dressed in cloth that complemented her figure while concealing her assets from prying eyes. Meant only for the one man she would call her Master to look upon and taste for his own pleasure. After all, what was the point of being blessed with the divine figure of a goddess if it was hidden behind suffocating cloth?
As if on cue, the ill fitting rags hanging over her body begins to unravel, reduced to their base components and giving her plenty of breathing room as she rises to her full height in satisfaction, feeling the cool breeze of the underground air against her skin as the floating lines of thread and silk reform into new garments that would fit the role she had always served. Leaving plentiful amounts of skin exposed as a semi transparent cloth wraps itself tightly around her swollen mammaries, forcing a raunchy giggle out of the excited Jackalkin as she runs a large paw down her plump thighs, biting her lip as a thong slaps itself around her hips, biting into her aching crotch and riding up tight between a firm butt, blooming downwards into a transparent dancers veil. Much better than those annoying dregs that prevented her from even moving an inch. Letting her stiff shoulders relax with the calming weight of her collar pressing firmly into her body, reminding her of her place by Master’s side, nothing more.
‘But where is Master? If he isn’t here then…’
Once it was all over with the jingle of golden ornaments to decorate the voluptuous figure of the newborn Jackalkin who had fully abandoned the last remnants of her former self, a flurry of memories begins to flow back into her mind, granting her the answer to the one question she could vaguely remember asking herself in the lucid dream she had awakened from, eager to carry out the search for her new Master as the image of three candidates come to mind. Although they were not of the same blood as the people that once lived here, they would most certainly do, licking her lips at the vivid memories of interacting with these three men from a perspective she could no longer think to call her own, at least, not until she met these strapping young men herself.
And if they weren’t up to the task? Then they were better off serving alongside their one true Master. One or two new sisters would certainly help to liven up the place abit. And speaking of sisters…
“Come with me dear. This long dead library has no use for tending now…”
With a silent nod, the other Jackalkin follows along in Aniya’s footsteps, trailing silently behind her as the sounds of a distant argument begin to grow louder, riling her up as the voices shouted at each other in such deep commanding voices as one fought to overpower the other. She didn’t understand the words at all, but one thing she was certain of that was universally understood by all; was body language.
And as she turns the corner out of the underground and into the main hall, the Jackalkin female curtsies before the flabbergasted trio as they freeze mid argument, their eyes glued on her seductive face and tantalizing figure squeezed tight by the immaculate garb that only served to draw more attention to herself.
“The name of the humble one before you now is Aniya….now, which one amongst you three are most fitting to serve as Aniya’s Master?”
Even if they didn't seem to understand her words, It didn’t take much more for them to realize what she wanted of them as she undoes her top, letting her breasts jiggle freely in the cool evening air as she leans provocatively on a pillar with her tail flicking gently over her dripping snatch, oily brown skin glimmering in the moonlight as the men share hesitant looks with each other before inevitably approaching her. As all men did once they were ensnared by her beauty.
Aniya could already more or less predict who would come out on top as her knowing eyes fall upon the big one in the middle with blonde hair, growing heated at the anticipation of feeling his being pulsing away within her womb. Silently hoping he would live up to her expectations, the horndog Jackalkin prepares herself for a lengthy ‘initiation ceremony’ on who would get to be her lucky Master…
THE END