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Krognar stepped cautiously into the main cavern, eyes darting back and forth, scanning for potential threats. The lion barbarian’s instincts were telling him to be careful. This had all been too easy so far, just a few basic and easily avoided traps in the caves leading to this one. And yet, the stories would seem to have been true. There in the centre of the cavern, resting on a stone plinth, was a large red gemstone. It was easily the size of his fist, light glinting off its multi-faceted shape. According to what he’d heard, this was the legendary and long-lost Demon’s Heart jewel, and was worth a fortune in gold to the right collector. How it came to be here, with little in the way of protection, was something of a mystery. But he was a mystery Krognar cared little for. This was treasure, plain and simple. That was what mattered as far as he was concerned. He’d grab it and get the hell out of here. He padded carefully towards it, sword raised, tail lashing anxiously behind him, eyes scanning for further traps. However, he reached the plinth without any further trouble and relaxed a little. Perhaps he had passed the last of the traps and could just take the gem and… The big lion barbarian paused as his gaze settled on the large red jewel on the plinth. Now that he was up close and able to look at it properly, he was suddenly taken with just how beautiful it was, its facets glinting in the low light. It almost seemed to be glowing slightly… Krognar continued staring at it, not wanting to stop gazing at its beauty, drinking in just how perfectly formed it was, the superb artistry of its perfect shape. It was somehow very relaxing to look at. The lion could feel his heavy muscles relaxing, his arms dropping to his sides. He was vaguely aware of his sword slipping from his grasp and clattering to the cavern floor. He found it impossible to care. The sight of the jewel filled Krognar’s vision. He didn’t want to look away, didn’t want to think of anything else, and wasn’t sure he would have been able to even if he wanted to. The jewel was just so completely entrancing, blocking out all other thoughts in his head. Wasn’t there something he was supposed to be doing? He wasn’t sure… his head was feeling strangely empty, devoid of thought or desire or memory. He was sure he had a name, but he could no longer seem to remember it. And he could no longer seem to care. All that mattered was starting at the jewel, he desired nothing more than that simple pleasure… “That should be more than enough!” The lion barbarian wasn’t sure who had spoken, and an instant later, a black cloth was thrown over the gemstone, finally breaking his eye contact with the jewel. He blinked, awash with confusion. He was hit with a pang of disappointment that he was no longer looking at that wonderful jewel. He was suddenly aware that a scrawny otter was stood beside him, wearing expensive looking clothing, trimmed with gold thread. “Tell me,” the otter demanded. “Who are you?” The muscular lion barbarian frowned. “I don’t know.” He said, honestly. “Where are you from?” The otter continued his questioning. “What is your purpose? What do you desire?” The lion shook his head. His mind felt utterly empty and he gave the only truthful response he could. “I have no idea.” “Excellent!” The otter grinned, rubbing his paws together with glee. “Allow me to help you. Look again.” He reached over and pulled the cloth away from the gemstone, being careful not to look at it himself. The big barbarian once again looked at the jewel and was instantly enthralled by it again, whatever power it held flowing freely through his empty mind. He heard the otter’s voice. “You are a lowly slave.” He was explaining. “You exist solely to serve and obey whatever orders are given you by your owner. Do you understand?” The otter’s words slipped into the lion’s empty head and took root instantly, as if the sight of the jewel somehow helped burn them into his brain, ingrain them on his very soul. He couldn’t help but accept them as absolute truth. “I understand.” The lion murmured. “I am a slave…” “Servitude and obedience to your owner bring you pleasure and happiness.” The otter continued, everything he said being absorbed instantly into the barbarian’s mind. “You have no name except what your owner may choose to give you…” “Yes, I understand…” The lion said, accepting his enslavement without question. “And right now,” the otter finished. “I am your owner!” “You are my owner…” The lion repeated. The jewel was suddenly covered again. The big lion barbarian blinked for a few moments, his mind processing the new information that now filled his head. Then he turned to the otter and bowed his head submissively. “I am ready to serve, Sir.” “Of course, you are.” The otter nodded. He was carefully wrapping the jewel in several layers of cloth. “And you will address me as Master, and answer to the name ‘Slave Kitten’.” “As you command, Master.” Slave Kitten said, with a nod. “How might this lowly slave serve you?” “By accompanying me back to my camp and helping the other treasure hunters I’ve ensnared and enslaved pack everything up.” The otter explained. “We got quite a journey ahead of us, getting you all to the slave markets in the capital.” He paused, looking the lion over. “You really are an impressive specimen, nice and muscular and handsome. Very attractive. The others who fell into my trap were just basic adventurers and treasure hunters. But you… an actual muscle-bound barbarian warrior! You’ll fetch a huge price!” The otter slipped the heavily wrapped jewel into a pack and slung it across his back. “And since my previous batch of slaves finally paid off the huge amount it cost to have this mind-warping magical jewel made… Well, anything I make on you will be pure profit!” He shrugged. “I might even make enough to comfortably retire. The life of a travelling merchant is growing very wearisome…” He sighed. “Anyway, pick up that sword there, would you. I can make a little money selling that thing.” “Yes, Master.” The lion obeyed, momentarily wondering whose sword it had been and how it had got here. “This way, my Slave Kitten.” The otter said, leading the way out of the cavern. “I want to have some fun with you before we break camp and start our journey to the capital. Sample the new merchandise, as it were.” His muzzle split into a wide grin. “I imagine passionate sex with a brute like you is quite an experience.” “Whatever you say, Master.” The newly enslaved lion rumbled, following the merchant out of the cavern and into his new life of servitude.
With an almighty cry, the musclebound barbarian badger plunged his sword into the demon’s broad chest, the blade burying itself deep in the unholy red flesh. He stumbled back, panting for breath, sweat dripping from his fur. It had been a long and difficult battle, but he had at last managed to deliver the killing blow. The great demon Karnus had been… “Was that supposed to kill me?” Ivar looked up at his opponent. The large crimson-skinned demon bear was looking at him with a smug, bemused expression. The sword was still protruding from his chest. “I will admit, it does sting a little.” Karnus chuckled, reaching up with a clawed paw and pulling the weapon out with a slight grimace. He then proceeded to hold it up, examining it closely. “Hmm, an enchanted sword.” The demon said. “You at least knew enough to know that no regular blade would defeat me. Unfortunately for you, this puny thing does not contain nearly enough magic to vanquish one such as myself.” Ivar was stunned. He’d been so certain that his sword would destroy the monster, that the fight had been won. He couldn’t believe he’d been so wrong… With both paws, the demon gripped the blade of Ivar’s sword and easily bent it, twisting the metal and rendering the weapon useless. He then promptly tossed it aside, focusing all his attention on the barbarian badger before him. For his part, Ivar’s mind was racing, taking stock of just how dangerous this situation had quickly become. He was deep in the lair of a powerful demon he had failed to slay, and was now unarmed and exhausted. There was no other option. He had to attempt escape and return when he had found a more powerful weapon capable of… “I do hope you’re not planning on going anywhere, little mortal…” Karnus laughed. “After all, I have such plans for you…” “I will…” Ivar faced the demonic bear, intent on growling out a defiant response before fleeing. But the words died in his throat as his eyes fell on Karnus. Somehow, the demon seemed different… physically, he was unchanged, but he now seemed somewhat… alluring and compelling? He tried to shake off those feelings, disgusted by the mere thought of thinking of this unholy monster in such a fashion. But they only seemed to be growing stronger by the second. He found all thoughts of escape fading. He wanted to stay here with this big sexy… The barbarian clutched his head, growling at himself. What was happening to him? The laugh of the demon cut through his thoughts. “Did you ever wonder why I am known as the Corruptor? It’s more than just because it sounds good… I think you should kneel.” Ivar dropped to his knees before he knew what he was doing, unsure why he obeyed. But why wouldn’t he obey this magnificent, superior demon, and do all he could to serve him… “What are you doing to me?” The badger snarled, continuing to struggle against the strange feelings and sensations flooding his mind and body. His cock was beginning to harden beneath his loincloth. “Just what comes naturally to me.” Karnus said. “Any mortal who spends long enough in my presence becomes corrupted by my power, their mind and soul subjugated to my will. And thanks to that long battle as you attempted to slay me, you have been near me long enough to be affected. That’s why I let it carry on as long as I did. I could have defeated a puny thing like you at any time.” Ivar supposed Karnus knew what was best… He felt so confused… Why would he be resisting the demon? Especially when he could be worshipping and serving him instead? A sudden odd sensation rippled through his body. Something else was happening to him… “Ah yes.” Karnus said, watching the barbarian. “Of course, once the corruption of the soul proceeds far enough, the physical changes follow. Look at your paws, my new minion.” Being called the demon’s minion caused further twitching of Ivar’s cock as he did as he was told, staring down at his paws. He was shocked to see his grey fur darkening as he watched, turning black. As he examined himself further, he saw that the black fur was spreading across his body, except for the white parts which he noticed were turning a dark red. And as he looked, he saw his muscles bulging and expanding, his already muscular frame growing larger and thicker. Then long sharp claws burst forth from his fingers, curved and vicious looking. A moment after that, he felt a bizarre stretching at the top of his skull. Reaching up, he realized that a pair of twisted demonic horns were forcing their way out of his head, growing rapidly. It all felt fantastic to the badger, not just the sensations of the transformation, but the knowledge that he was being changed to better serve Karnus, his new Lord and Master. Before long, the transformation was complete and Ivar had become a muscle-bound, red and black furred, horned demon badger. And he couldn’t be happier about it, as evidenced by the hard and throbbing cock now protruding from under his loincloth. The creature that had once been Ivar prostrated himself before Karnus. “I am yours my Lord, now and forever! Please permit me to serve you for as long as I exist!” The big demon bear gazed down at him with a hearty laugh. “You will serve me well, won’t you, my new slave?” The demon badger glared up adoringly at Karnus. “Yes, my Lord!” “And aid me in conquering and corrupting every last mortal on this pathetic plane of reality?” Karnus added. “Of course, Lord!” Ivar nodded. “All should serve you!” “Well said.” Karnus grinned. “You may cum as a reward. Now!” The corrupted badger spasmed in pleasure as his cock exploded, splattering his seed across the floor. Ivar revelled in the ecstasy of the moment, in the thought of serving Karnus for all eternity as his demonic slave. The surging orgasm ripping through him obliterated any remaining memory of his old life as a barbarian warrior, sealing his new role as a demonic servant. And he didn’t care. It all felt too good to not embrace his new life completely. As his orgasm faded and his cock stopped fountaining sticky cum, Ivar smiled up at his Lord and Master, knowing with every fibre of his being that he would never want anything more to serve this magnificent demon. Karnus the Corruptor let out a contented sigh at the sight. “Another puny mortal successfully enslaved… Yet there are so many more out there yet to be corrupted.” He shrugged and laughed. “Oh well, it’s just a matter of time before they are all mine…” Bragus struggled to try and move, but failed. His whole body, every one of his thick bulging muscles, were seemingly locked in place. The fox barbarian was utterly unable to move. He glared at the reason why, the small and lithe weasel sorcerer laughing at him. “Did you really think I would do nothing in retaliation?” The weasel giggled. “After you ruined my attempt to summon a demon army to conquer the world? I put decades of planning into that ritual… only to see it wrecked by some musclebound oaf.” The barbarian really hadn’t given Nazrus a second thought after foiling his plans. He’d just assumed the damn weasel sorcerer had crawled back under whatever rock he’d come from. In Bragus’ experience, that was what these megalomaniacs usually did when defeated. He certainly hadn’t expected him to suddenly show up here at his remote hunting lodge and entrap him with his blasted magicks. So, he’d made a mistake. Once he got free, he would correct it by slicing off the damn weasel’s head… “Oh, I have spent so much time planning what to do to you once you were in my grasp!” Nazrus declared, triumphantly. “And I…” “Let me guess.” Bragus interrupted, rolling his eyes. “Pain, torture, things of that nature?” “Oh please.” The sorcerer spat. “I would never plan a revenge that was that predictable. I have come up with something far more creative.” “Whatever it is, I will resist!” The barbarian snarled. “I will get free eventually, and then I will take great pleasure in carving you into tiny pieces!” “Oh, I can guarantee that will not be the source of your future pleasure.” The weasel grinned, an evil twinkle in his eyes. Before the trapped fox could ask what he meant, the sorcerer started chanting strange words and waving glowing paws back and forth, tracing strange shapes in the air. Bragus was unable to look away. The movements were calming to watch, sort of hypnotic and… And… Bragus snapped awake and sat up. What the fuck had just happened? That damn sorcerer must have done something to him, made him black out. He was somewhere new. He was sat on a large bed in an elegant bedroom he didn’t recognise. He had no idea where he was or how he got there or… Suddenly the big barbarian fox realized he was now almost naked. At some point he had been stripped of his clothes and armour by someone. He was now only wearing a skimpy green loincloth of a silken material so gossamer thin as to be semi-transparent, offering all a glimpse of the plump cock between his legs. The fox also felt something around his neck. Raising a paw to it, he discovered a leather collar adorned with small metal spikes. Pushing thoughts of his lack of proper clothing to the back of his mind, Bragus started thinking of escape, glancing at the room’s only door while also looking around him for anything that he might be able to use as a weapon. There was the sound of voices outside, getting closer. He was about to jump up, get to the door, be ready to attack whoever came through… But found that he couldn’t move. His body wouldn’t do what he wanted it to. Try as he might, he remained in a relaxed sitting position on the bed. What the fuck was going on here? The door opened, and he was at least able to look up at who entered. There was the weasel sorcerer who he presumed had done all this to him as part of his planned revenge, accompanied by a short fat mouse in expensive looking clothing. There were in the middle of a conversation. “I just need to know…” The mouse was explaining. “What is the catch here? You’re giving him to me at quite a bargain price. I mean, it’s not every day that a big beefy barbarian warrior slave comes up for sale. You could easily ask a lot more…” “There is no catch.” Nazrus assured him. “The money isn’t as important as ensuring he is right where he belongs.” As he spoke, he turned to look at Bragus, shooting a smug self-satisfied grin that the fox longed to punch. But then his brain caught up. The mouse had referred to him as a slave! But he wasn’t…! “You’ll be a good slave whore once you’re sold, won’t you?” The sorcerer said, interrupting his thoughts. “You’ll obey any command? Serve his customers, no matter their desires?” No! Bragus wanted to cry out, but his body had other ideas. “Yes, Sir!” The barbarian found himself nodding vigorously, despite his best efforts to stop himself. “I will be a good obedient slave! I live only to serve!” Nazrus turned to the mouse. “You see?” The mouse stroked his chin before appearing to reach a decision. “Very well, I’ll take him. I have plenty of clients who’ll get a kick out of using a big barbarian warrior to satisfy their urges.” “Might I have a few minutes alone with him?” The sorcerer asked. “Just to say my goodbyes…” “Of course.” The mouse nodded. “I’ll just be downstairs, preparing your gold.” Once the two of them were alone, the weasel sorcerer turned his full attention to the fox barbarian, smiling a broad smug smile. “I imagine you’re somewhat confused.” He said. “I’ll make this quick, as I want to leave you to your fate and get back to plotting world domination.” Bragus struggled to do or say anything. But he remained unable to exert any control over his body whatsoever. “You have been unconscious for several days.” The weasel explained. “During which time, I cast numerous custom enchantments on you, ingrained deep in your mind and body. You are you a slave now. You will be submissive and obedient and respectful to your betters for as long as you live. And you will enjoy serving and obeying.” His smile seemed to grow bigger. “At least, your body will. And the slave persona in control will as well. But I know the real you is still in there. I designed the enchantments that way.” The sorcerer fixed Bragus with an evil glare. “This is my revenge, barbarian. You will spend the rest of your days a prisoner in your own body. Forced to experience enjoyment at being a lowly slave. And my mouse friend I’m selling you to, this place is a brothel he runs, which specifically caters to males with somewhat… outlandish sexual desires. The perverted things you’re going to be doing as one of his slave whores, unable to stop yourself enjoying every second… well, it’s a thought that warms my heart.” In his head, Bragus was screaming and growling obscenities, but couldn’t say anything out loud. “Before I leave you to your new life, one last thing.” Nazrus said. “I want you to kneel before me and apologise for disrupting my plans, and then admit that I am mighty, and you are weak and that you deserve to be a lowly slave for as long as you live.” I will not! Bragus tried to snarl. But all that came out of his muzzle was, “Yes, Master.” The barbarian clambered off the bed, hurrying to obey despite his best efforts to stop himself. He dropped to his knees in front of the weasel, bowing his head submissively. “I am so sorry for disrupting your plans in the past, Master” He found himself saying. “I am but a puny insignificant worm compared to your might and power. I deserve nothing more than to spend the rest of my days as a mere slave.” The weasel sorcerer closed his eyes and let out a deep happy sigh. “Ah, music to my ears!” He let out a laugh as he returned his gaze to the kneeling fox barbarian. “I shall take my leave now, happy in the knowledge that I have achieved my revenge. I’d tell you to enjoy your new life. But I know that you will, whether you want to or not!” Bragus could do nothing but watch the weasel leave, Nazrus laughing every step of the way. Inwardly, he sagged. He was defeated. He could see no way out. He had to accept this was his life now, trapped in his own body, a slave and a whore. He had no choice but to accept that this was how the story of the mighty barbarian warrior Bragus came to end… |
Multi-Part Stories / Short Stories