FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

_Somebody told me that I always have to bow,

If that was true I would have fallen apart by now,

The more you think, the less you act their way,

So can you hear this, the fake sound of progress_

- Lostprophets, "The Fake Sound of Progress"

_Revolution and sex are very similar, especially your first time. You're shaky and nervous and sweating and trying to control your breathing but at the same time you're focused, you've got conviction and you're so damn excited that you're actually going through with it, and sure there's a little anxiety at first but when you're over the edge, when the firebomb has left your hand and fate spreads her legs for you, you feel like a tiny god and the fear is gone and nothing, nothing, is ever going to be quite the same again and you wouldn't have it any other way.

And, of course, then you light up and have a smoke afterwards to calm your nerves. Best part, I always thought._

*********

Hexus woke with a groan and a hangover that could split steel, he opened his eyes a crack but the morning light was just too damn bright for his liking so he screwed them shut again, damn sun, why'd it have to be so bright at this time of the day? Still, even with his eyes shut and a headache worthy of poetry in its honour his wererat senses were acute enough to take in a lot about his surroundings. He was lying on crisp, freshly-laundered cotton sheets over a well sprung mattress, his head resting on an adaptive-foam pillow with a wonderfully smooth and satiny pillowcase of synth-silk, elegant and practical at the same time, and a thin quilt of diamond-shaped patches, hand-sewn judging by the irregularities in the stitch, covered him in a strangely body-hugging embrace that felt soft and comfortable against his bare skin. The air conditioning was set at a steady 21 degrees, cool enough to counteract the warm breeze blowing in from the open window - no, bay doors - and leave the atmosphere fresh without being chilled, the scents of apple flower, wild rose and honeysuckle floated ephemerally on the wind.

Wait a minute...his bedsheets hadn't been laundered in months, his pillow was a ragged old feather-filled lump that he usually threw aside when the quills sticking in his cheek kept him awake, his mattress was so old that just looking at it gave him backache, he didn't even own a quilt, usually sleeping under an unzipped army-issue sleeping-bag. On top of that his AC unit hadn't worked for years and his whole apartment stank like ass, which was why he was generally only there when he intended to sleep through the whole experience.

Memories, terrible, awful memories, came flooding back; running from the wolf-cop, gang-rape by darkness in the werecell, a room all in chrome and perspex, the neural patterner, the werespider.

Oh fuck, this wasn't his apartment.

In a sudden spastic burst of panic-driven motion he tried to scrabble to his feet, succeeding instead in getting thoroughly tangled up in the voluminous quilt, sending pillows flying in all directions, and falling off the edge of the bed to land in a tangled pile on the floor, face to the ceiling and one leg still resting on the edge of the bed. He blinked the tears out of his eyes and got to his feet with a little more decorum this time and looked around at his...cell?

"Holy shit, I've been swallowed by a Laura Ashley catalogue." he said incredulously under his breath as he surveyed the room with watery eyes. Everything about the place, from the floral-print wallpaper to the quaint hunting-scene prints on the walls in their twirly and overdecorated gold frames bespoke a kind of quiet, nonthreatening conception of elegance, it reminded him vaguely of the 'collectible' plates that they sold in the back of the TV-guide, those things always made his stomach turn a little bit, it was like they had been designed by a robot who was trying to recreate beauty but hadn't quite managed to understand the concept beyond the theoretical stage and ended up with a bunch of nauseatingly twee images of chocolate-box kittens and slightly creepy china dolls.

Still, it wasn't exactly a rockcrete prison cell, in fact it was rather nice, spacious and airy for all its slightly tasteless kitsch, across from the bed was a fireplace with a small table and two chairs of green, brass-studded leather, in one corner there was an antique-looking mahogany armoire, in another a grandfather clock gently ticked away, it's pendulum slicing time into slivers like a knife through ham, all in all not exactly the 'gulag' vibe he was expecting. So what exactly was he doing here? Wasn't he supposed to be an indent, not much more than a slave with a slightly more politically-correct title? It was...more than weird. He was also, he realised with quiet horror, stark naked, even the paper-thin prison smock was missing so someone had gone and undressed him while he was unconscious.

"Yeah, hope you got an eyeful, perv." he muttered irritably under his breath as he wrapped the thin quilt-thingy around his waist and folded it up to form a sort of alien parody of a toga/kilt combi. The clothing issue sorted for the timebeing, he turned to the next order of business; escape.

The bay windows turned out to have a grille of cast-iron bars bolted to the outside, decorative and functional, splendid. He tried shifting to rat-form where he was small enough to fit through the bars but all he got was the sensation of 'pushing' against something like a rubber sheet without the sudden give that signified a transformation, then he reached up and realised that the mondanite collar was still affixed to his neck. Bugger, he was stuck in human form, that too-big-for-bars, too-small-for-fights, next-to-useless-for-everything-but-picking-up-chicks human form, great, just great. And no magic either, even his agony-shiv was gone, he was developing a new and deeper sense of pity for mundanes by the minute, he didn't like being so damn helpless one bit. The windows looked out over a manicured garden full of orderly beds of roses and buddleia bushes with a few flowering trees thrown in for garnish, manicured to the point of anal-retentiveness in fact.

Werespider, he remembered, that's why this place had such a cliche' homeliness to it. He had often wondered what the home of a werespider would look like given that they tended to operate on a distinctly alien set of emotions to humanity and mammal-shifters, he'd always imagined something vaguely Gothic with a bit of a web-motif here and there, but this, while unsuspected, was looking creepily appropriate. Only a creature with utterly unrecognisable emotions would think that chintz on every surface was a good idea. And it was all so...orderly, he thought with a hint of distaste, Rats hated orderliness, the thought of living what most people, human, were or 'misc', thought of as a nice, normal and above all stable life gave him panic attacks. He estimated that he'd survive something in the region of three weeks before he'd be gnawing on the furniture in pure boredom, five weeks and he'd be giving himself autoerotic asphyxia with his office necktie and within two months he'd be in perpetual hybrid-form and the yappy family dog would be a thin red smear on his claws while he cackled madly to himself and swore vengeance on the world for robbing him of eight weeks of potential fun and debauchery.

Being a wererat was just kinda like that.

Okay, plan "B", check the door, it's a longshot but it just might work. True to form, one shoulder-barge was sufficient to confirm that the door was too solid to break down, possibly even steel-core, and had a biometric palm-lock set into the wall beside it, so picking the lock was out of the question. He placed his hand on the palm-reader anyway, anything was worth a try, but as expected all he got was the 'unregistered user' buzz.

With a frustrated sigh he backpedaled a bit and sat down on the edge of the bed to think. There seemed to be only two viable ways out to a human-sized creature, which currently included him for as long as he was still mondanite-bound, and both of them were currently impassable. He was getting a little hungry but he doubted they'd starve him to death after going to all this trouble...probably, who the fuck knew how the Spiders thought?

So...that left precisely one option, wait and see what comes through that door, not the most thrilling prospect. It probably wouldn't be long, there were likely surveillance devices all over the room. Yes, there, just on the far reaches of his hearing he could just about detect the faint electronic whine of a hidden camera.

"Pervs." he muttered again under his breath and flicked an abusive gesture in the general direction of where he thought the camera was.

So, what to do until then? There didn't appear to be a TV anywhere in the room, not that early-morning cartoons were that interesting unless you were high and they'd already taken his stash. There was the bathroom, come to think of it his mouth was feeling a bit cottony, he could at least get a drink of water. In his makeshift duvet-kilt he shuffled across the carpet to the bathroom, wincing slightly at the change from soft, warm carpet to cold marble floor against his feet. He examined his face in the mirror, his regeneration had taken care of the bruising from the slug in the jaw the chem-soldier had given him and besides the notable lack of much left in the way of head-covering he was looking much like his old self again. The mirror, he realised, was a real glass one, not a polished-steel safety mirror, they were apparently not worried about him committing suicide. He memorised the fact, hoping it might come in handy later, any brittle, breakable object was a potential weapon if you knew what you were doing.

There was a gold-chased glass tumbler with a toothbrush in it on the marble counter beside the sink and an array of toiletries laid out in a little rack. Okay, now things were getting just a tad too strange, this place was more like an upscale hotel-room than a prison, mini-bottles of liquid soap? Wait...the writing on the bottle..."Paradise Heights Manor". Oh, he'd heard of this place, it was a hotel, a rented manor, go figure. That only raised more questions than it answered though, he was beginning to think the fuckers were leaving him in the dark on purpose just to make him obsess over tiny little nagging worries.

Pushing the thoughts aside he filled the glass from the tap and swallowed a few gulps of the chilly water before running the toothbrush under the tap, squeezing out a measure of toothpaste onto it and cleaning his teeth, taking extra care with the back and upper jaw, then rinsing with the mouthwash, repeating, rinsing again, there was floss too so he reeled out a length of the stuff and got to work with it...

...hold the fucking phone, why was he getting so worked up over cleaning his damn teeth of all things? Hell, most days he just chewed a pack of gum and said 'fuck it', leaving tooth decay and gum disease up to his regeneration to sort out. Irritably, he removed the floss from his mouth and tossed it into the bin under the sink. Without thinking, the probing tip of his tongue ran over the inside of his teeth.

They felt dirty.

Swearing softly under his breath he reeled out another length of floss and finished the job until he was completely satisfied that the feeling of uncleanness was gone. Weird, he usually liked feeling a little grimy, it was another part of being a rat. Bah, anxiety was making him fixate on obsessive-compulsive little things, that's all, he always got twitchy little habits at times...like these? Truth be told, he'd never been in a situation quite 'like this' and wasn't sure how to deal with it. Cops, even those of the rapist-variety, were easy enough to deal with, torture was nothing much to someone with infinite healing ability and the words 'ornery bastard' written right the way through them, but this...?

The click of the lock from the room behind him suddenly had his head jerking round in response, he rushed out of the bathroom as quickly as he could without risking his toga-kilt coming undone. Standing in the doorway was a man in a nondescript black suit with wavy, shoulder-length copper-red hair and wraparound mirrorshades, the spiraling wire connected to an earpiece disappeared behind one lapel identified him as most likely being hired personal security. The scent Hexus caught was human though, which made less sense than anything else that had happened today, why exactly would a goddamn werespider, one of just about the scariest creatures to ever draw breath, have human hired muscle? Bullet-shield, perhaps?

"You, come with me," said the guard, gesturing at Hexus "The boss wants to see you."

Now's my chance, he thought as he stepped tentatively in the guards direction, I'm on even ground with a human.

"Hey, buddy, any chance I could get some clothes first?" he said jovially, throwing out a distraction while he sauntered up, tensing to pounce "I'm freezing my balls off here."

The guard cracked an annoyed grimace and made a dismissive offhand gesture "Look, I'm not a goddamn maid, I'm just here to take you to the boss..."

Close enough, Hexus launched himself at the guard, throwing a practiced punch at the man's head fit to break those damn mirrorshades in two.

An intercepting hand wrapped around his wrist and pushed up with unnatural strength before wrenching his arm around behind his back and forcing him face-down onto the bed, a leather-clad toe was jammed into the back of his knees, making his legs buckle underneath him.

"Wha-?" was all he said before his other arm was wrenched behind his back and a pair of cuffs was fastened around his wrists. What the hell had just happened? The guard had moved like something out of an action-flick, like his attack had just been part of some choreographed martial-arts stunt, and he was ridiculously strong for his size, being about the same mass as Hexus himself.

"Feisty one, aren't ya? Oh, the boss is gonna just love you." said the guard with a chuckle. Then Hexus caught it, an undercurrent in his scent that he hadn't detected before, inorganic scents were harder to detect at range.

Plastiflesh, electromyotic musculature, ozone and the metallic-almond tang of analgesic steel all emanated from him, he was a cyborg, a heavily modded milspec one at that, probably not much human left but skin, hair and a few critical glands. Internal melee-calculation computers and servo-aided myomar muscles explained how he had turned a perfectly good attack into Hexus looking like an utter chump so damn fast.

"Fucking humans and your goddamn augment-tech!" he bellowed, struggling vainly while the guard held him down "Just can't be satisfied with what nature gave you, can you? Goddamn cheating is what it is, it's getting to the point where a fella can't tell who's safe to pick on anymore!"

The guard snorted in amusement "Sorry, pal, I wouldn't know, I've never been human. I was born aug'ed straight from the tube." he said, pulling Hexus up by the cuffs once he stopped struggling.

So, he wasn't just hired muscle, he was a CorSam, a Corporate Samurai, cloned from the blended DNA of violent criminals altered to instill qualities of duty and obedience then filled full of the scariest cyberware on the planet and neurally programmed with the skills of a trained killer while still in the vat. Hot and cold running supersoldiers, if anything was proof that the penitent legions were just around for the shits and giggles of the high breeds it was them, of course technically CorSam were private property while Penitents were state-owned but with the high breeds owning most of the corporations big enough to make them the whole situation was incestuous enough not to matter.

"Now are you going to be a good little mouse and come quietly or do I have to just start popping joints?" he said, twisting Hexus's arm just enoguh to make him grit his teeth "The boss would prefer it if you weren't damaged but he's understanding, and besides..." the guard leaned down over his shoulder to whisper in his ear "You're a were, you'll heal." he said, laughing a black-humoured laugh softly under his breath.

"Fuck, alright alright!" Hexus swore, grimacing as the grip relaxed a little "Just ease off a bit, tin-man."

"Whatever you say, Dorothy." quipped the guard in response, Hexus was impressed despite himself.

"That was pretty good, actually." he said, grinning grudgingly.

"And more appropriate than you know." said the guard, cryptically.

"What do you mean?"

"You'll find out soon enough, now move, Rat, I'm tired of your shit." said the Guard, gruffly, pulling him to his feet and shoving him out the door, still holding tightly onto the cuffs. If he was as aug'ed as most CorSam were then he probably had locking fingers so trying to pull loose was not going to work.

In short order he was marched through a wide oak-paneled corridor dotted intermittently on both sides with ornaments, paintings and antique furniture, from time to time they'd move down a side passage and change corridors; left, right, right, left, right, on and on as Hexus futilely tried to memorise the layout, but the place was just too big and labyrinthine for it to be feasible, the guard was probably just finding his way with an inner-ear spatial navigation implant running on autopilot.

"So, ah, what's your name? Or serial number or whatever it is they give you guys." said Hexus, the oppressive silence getting the better of him.

"why do you care?" snapped the guard, suspiciously.

"Shit, just making conversation, no need to get pissy."

There was a silence but he could tell from the quality of the silence that the guard was mulling over whether to tell him or not.

"Well?" he prompted.

"Walker, it's Agent Walker, satisfied?" the guard replied, gruffly, as though it troubled him. Weird that he'd get so antsy over a normal-sounding name like that, there had to be more to this.

"First name?" said Hexus in his most ingratiating tone.

Another silence, paydirt! He'd struck a nerve!

"C'mon, what is it!?"

"Just shut up." growled Walker, angrily, and Hexus did a little backflip in his head, oh this was going to be fun!

"Oh, come on, just tell me."

"No."

"Look, I'm handcuffed and wearing nothing but a bedcover, whatever it is it can't be as embarrassing as that, just tell me."

There was another silence, this time Hexus let it drag out just a little longer.

"Skye, it's Skye." said the guard at last.

Oh, joy of joys.

"Skye!? As in 'Skye Walker'!?" yelled Hexus aloud in an irritating high-pitched cackle before going into paroxysms of laughter "Oh, that is fucking priceless! I was expecting 'Clancy' or 'Rudolph' or something, regular embarrassing, but that is just too much!"

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it off. My technicians were a bunch of fucking nerds, okay?" grumbled Skye, one apparently-human eyebrow twitching with repressed irritation.

"Ah, come on, that's no way to talk about the people who hatched you," he said, feigning shock, before adding "search your feelings, you know it to be true." and breaking down in laughter again.

His laughter was abruptly cut short by the sharp pain of a twisted arm. Oh, so mister man-of-steel had a breaking point too. It probably didn't do him much good to know what it was at this point but it might prove handy to know sometime anyway and in any case he was a Rat, if he wasn't about testing boundaries then what was he?

"We're here." said Skye, stopping outside of a pair of oak double-doors with decorative brass handles surrounding a central palm-reader.

"You know, I thought you were using a spatial navi to find your way around but that was too quick, were you using the Force?"

The guards response was unexpected, he smirked evily and fixed Hexus with a dagger-edged glare "You've got a smart tongue on you, haven't you? Good, you'll be needing that for what the boss has in mind." he said in an unreadable but worrying tone before touching his hand to the palm-reader. There was an affirmatory electronic beep and a green light glowed into being on the reader as the lock clicked open.

The doors swung in on mechanised axels, revealing a room of parisian splendour. No, actually, forget Paris; this was Versailles. A gargantuan oval rug as thick as his thumb covered the golden wood floor, the far wall was dominated by two massive arched window-conservatories, to the right was a carved marble fireplace big enough to stand up in, to the left the room extended down to banquet-hall length, every spare foot of wall covered in framed paintings all the way down. Sitting on the rug, however, was only three pieces of furniature, a small table, a footstool and a high-backed leather armchair, currently occupied by the Werespider he had seen in the neural patterning chamber, reading a newspaper.

"Ah, excellent, bring him in, Walker." said the Spider, languidly, folding his newspaper and setting it down on the table.

The antagonised CorSam shoved Hexus ahead of him, roughly. Giving the room a quick scan, Hexus noted the presence of three more dark-suited and mirrorshaded human figures, probably all CorSam's too, though it was hard to tell from the distance. Once he was within three meters of the Spider's chair, Walker jerked him to a stop in response to a raised finger.

He looked at the werespider sitting nonchalantly and looking at him with a mixture of apparent interest, amusement and something else that he couldn't quite place. The sharp, predatory and almost chemical scent of the arachnid-shifter filled his senses but the paralysing fear, the need to get the fuck away as fast as possible, was blessedly missing. There was still something about the alabaster-skinned and ebony-haired man that made his hackles rise but it was just a normal response to coming face to face with a captor.

"So, nice place you have here, not really my style tho-" he began, his tone a broken attempt at irreverant cheerfulness before the spider cut him off.

"Do you know who I am?" said the spider in a voice like poisoned chocolate.

Hexus swallowed "Helstromme, right? The Riastradh CEO?"

The faint smile on the spiders face deepened slightly "No, not even close." he said, softly, almost exhaling it as much as speaking.

"L-look, all I know is I'm supposed to be indented to some guy called Helstromme." stuttered Hexus, finding the Spiders gaze increasingly distracting.

"Oh, Lysander Helstromme is my name, certainly, but that's not who I am. To you, I mean." said the Werespider.

"I...I don't know..."

"Kneel." said the Spider, sternly, and before he even realised what was happening Hexus's legs folded underneath him almost involentarily, and without assistance from the CorSam.

"Wha? The'hell did you do!?" he yelped in suprise, then yelped again when the Spider lept from his seat in a burst of speed even he'd be hard-pressed to match in hybrid, and backhanded him in the jaw, grasping him under the chin on the return-stroke and tilting his head up to look into the spiders piercingly violet eyes. The formerly-human hand that held his face was now a gauntlet of black Chitin fingers tipped with viciously sharp claws that pricked threateningly at his skin. A partial-transformation, this guy was good, partial shifts were difficult and usually not worth learning, the ability was the mark of an expert.

"Now then, what way is that to speak to your Master?" said the Spider, and out of the corner of his eye Hexus noticed something glowing, he tore his eyes away from the spiders to see that in his other hand Helstromme held an ignited plasma-knife, arcs of lambent blue pseudo-fire played across the ceramic blade.

Hexus's eyes went wide with fright "Hey, hold on now, there's no need to get that serious!" he yelped, eyes magnetised to the glowing knifeblade.

"Then address me properly." said Helstromme in candy-coated tones.

"You want me to call you 'master' then I'll call you 'master', shit, I'll call you 'Abigail-May' if that's what gives you your kicks, just don't fucking kill me!"

"What was that?" said Helstromme, genially, bringing the plasma-knife up under Hexus's chin, he could feel the heat of the plasma-field against his neck.

"Please don't kill me, master!" said Hexus, hoping he guessed right.

Helstromme made a contented nod and released Hexus's face, his hand again reverting to human-form, and Hexus breathed a sigh of relief. Too soon, apparently, for no sooner had he let out the breath than Helstromme lept at him, ignited blade in hand, and made two swift cuts, too fast for him to process immediately.

"Whoa! What the hell!?" he yelled, reeling back and scooting away from the direction of the Spider on his haunches, feeling for wounds. Torso; none. Chest; none. Arms; none. Neck; none. Wait, there really was nothing on his neck, including the mondanite collar! He scanned the floor and found two half-circles of dull grey metal resting side by side on the carpet, their ends gently smoking.

His mind started racing, no collar meant he could shift, and invoke, he didn't know what the spider was thinking but the siuation just changed a whole lot. Things were still pretty shitty, four CorSam, no doubt with enough internal weaponry between them to drop a small army, and a werespider versus him was not an even fight by any measure but he didn't want to fight, he wanted to get the hell out of here, and now that just might be possible.

"Haha! Wrong move!" he Cawed and tensed to shift, feeling the waterfall-embrace of the margin begin to envelop him, letting his spirit plunge into the otherworld where the extra mass of his hybrid-form resided until called. Then panic overtook him, heartstopping terror made him pull back from the margin, he suddenly felt like he just shouldn't be in the otherworld, that it wasn't the place for him, it was hostile, dark, foreboding.

He drew in his breath sharply in a panicked gulp as he returned fully to the material, the light grew brighter as he returned and he heard the sounds of the CorSam guards chuckling to themselves in the corners of he room. He was shivering all over, small droplets of fear-sweat beaded his skin and his breath came ragged. Hexus knew what this feeling was; he was in shock. In shock? Over something as natural as shifting? That didn't make sense, that was like getting a heart-attack from taking a piss!

"Uncuff him." said the Spider, returning to his armchair. That Walker-bastard got hold of Hexus's shaking wrists and did something behind his back that made the cuffs spring open. Hexus held his hands out in front of him and examine them, they were shaking like a leaf in a gale.

"I don't understand..." he whispered shakily to himself. Staring at his hands incredulously, he had shifted, he wasn't mondanite-bound anymore, his hands should be huge, fur-covered and with claws like knifeblades right now. Instead they were distressingly human.

"A mental block, imposed by the good doctors wonderful machine, strange fellow but he's such a sweetheart." said he Spider, Hexus looked up to see him leaning forward in the armchair and staring intently at him "It's a quite well designed piece of neuroprogramming, if you want to touch the otherworld in any way, you first require your masters permission, save in certain very specific circumstances, otherwise it forcibly dissuades you."

Hexus snarled with anger and threw himself at the Spider, drawing back his fist to wipe that damn smile of his bastard face. He punched...no, he didn't, his arm wouldn't move, his whole body was paralysed mid-strike like he was pushing against some invisible wall that conformed to his body-shape. He struggled and heaved until his face was red and the tendons of his neck bulging but couldn't land the blow. The spider rose to his feet and took hold of his fist, moving it even though Hexus couldn't and touching it to his own cheek. Hexus felt the soft, downy fur of the mans skin against the back of his fingers before silky lips caressed his hand and dexterous fingers unbunched his fist. Confusion and fear made Hexus's blood run cold, had the spider just...kissed his hand?

"I believe that in the common parlance of neuroprogramming this is reffered to as an 'Asimov'." said the spider, silkily "Simply put, you cannot harm me, you cannot allow me to be harmed if you can prevent it and you cannot allow yourself to come to harm unless it is in my defence."

Oh, that's not good.

"Relax." said the Spider and Hexus's body went suddenly limp and he collapsed in an ungainly heap on the floor "Nor can you dissobey a direct order, though in time you will be better able to moderate your responses, I said 'relax' not 'collapse'." said the Spider, amusedly.

"Though, I must say I rather like you this way, all boneless and dishevelled, wrapped up in bedclothes, I'm going to enjoy seeing you like that every morning."

Oh, this was really not good!

"Afterall, after what you did to poor Jeremy I'm going to need a new toy, such a shame, he was just perfect." said the Spider, wistfully, staring into space in a disconcertingly arachnid manner "And since you broke my old toy, it seems fair that you replace him personnaly, that's only just, isn't it?" he finished, returning his attention to Hexus.

He tried to reply with some choice expletives but his tongue and jaw were as paralysed as the rest of him and all he could manage to get out at first was some frustrated moans.

"I'm...n-not your...fucking t-toy..." he forced out, trying and failing to sound confident.

"Oh? Then why the distinct resemblance to a puppet with the strings cut?" said the Spider, jovially "In fact, I can't wait to play with you any longer."

"Leave us." he said commandingly to the CorSam guards and they bowed deeply and left like a troop of cyber-ninja butlers.

As the door clicked shut behind them Hexus felt the imbalance in the Werespider that signified a shift, just a subtle change in the atmosphere of the room as he pulled some of his shift-matter into reality. The sound of tearing silk heralded the four spear-like segmented legs that burst from the mans back, each in four segments and tipped with a gleaming two-fingered claw of shining chitin. A similar transformation came over Helstromme's hands, sheathing them in chitinous gauntlets up to the forearm, and his face changed from that of a languid young man into a predatory grin, his canines lengthening into cruel black hooks that jutted out over his bottom lip. And the noise, he remembered that sound from the patterner-room, the sound of the werespiders shift, a sound like a hundred knives all being sharpened at the same time.

Hexus's stomach churned at the sight, and then positively did somersalts when two of those legs reached down and hooked their claws around his upper arms and dragged him to his feet...then off them, the monsterous strength of the deceptively fragile-looking limbs holding him easily in the air.

The limbs drew him closer to Helstromme, still dangling him in the air, and the Werespider extended one black-armoured hand and ran his index finger over the ripples of Hexus's stomach. Thick, quill-like hairs on the spiders hand tickled and pricked his skin lightly as it traced the outline of his abs until it stopped just below his navel where the quilt, still clinging tightly to his body, barred further progress.

"Exquisite." the werespider whispered breathily, apparently to himself, examining the paralysed wererat's body with keen interest.

"Hey...look, what is it you want from me?" said Hexus weakly, in response the claws holding him aloft tightened painfully and he winced as the Spider looked into his eyes with a hint of irritation, the first time he had seen that.

"You will not speak while I am concentrating on something, even if that something is you." he said, sternly, a dangerous hint of his inner beast bleeding into his voice, a venomous grating on the edge of his cadences, subtler than the Rat but no less dangerous "It seems you are still in need of polishing, but that is to be expected, if it comes to it I can always have Doctor Young give you another session, but that won't be necessary, will it?"

"I'm not going back in the patterner! No fucking way!" yelped Hexus, almost squeaking, he was beggining to get back some motion and just about managed to struggle weakly against the spiders claws.

Another backhanded blow struck him in the face, hard. "Proper address at all times or you will go back in the patterner, and I'll make sure the experience is not so gentle the next time. After what happened to the good doctor I've long wondered whether it could be used to render someone completley mute, perhaps I could experiment a little."

Hexus shuddered at the thought, and not just because it would put an end to all the fun he had coming up with witty comebacks.

"Look, I'm sorry, really," he lied, realising that the wrong word could probably get him killed, best to play it safe and go with as defferential as possible "Could you just please put me down...err, master?"

"Hmmm, better, definately progress...or are you trying to decieve me?" said the Spider in a hissing tone "Yes, I think you are a slippery little rat, and I think I'll hold onto you a while longer. Now then, where was I...?"

With that the spiders hand close around the roll of quilt that kept his makeshift clothing in place and tugged it loose, leaving Hexus now completely nude and dangling like a skinned hair in a butchers window.

"Wait! What the hell are you doing!?" he yelped in humiliated surprise and the werespider snarled and reared forward, the claw-tipped limbs slamming Hexus onto the (thankfully rug-covered) floor, the other two pinning down his ankles.

"Never interrupt me again!" the spider hissed, face-to-face, hanging over him, suspended above Hexus on the four arachnid legs sticking out of his back "Understand?"

Hexus mouthed soundlessly, half in surprise and half because hitting the floor and nearly winded him.

"Do you understand?" repeated the Spider, a little more forcefully.

"Y-y-y-yes, sir, um, master I mean."

The werespiders alien features were unreadable, showing no obvious emotion, but after a few seconds they seemed to soften a bit.

"No, I don't think you really do, but you will. Rats are clever creatures, they learn quickly." said the spider, softer now, and lowered himself bodily until he and Hexus wee almost touching, Hexus could feel the play of the mans silk shirt against his skin "I wonder what you taste like?"

Well that was random, was all Hexus had time to think before the spider suddenly bolted forward, took his head and right shoulder firmly in his taloned hands and sunk those saber-curved fangs right into Hexus's neck.

Pain, first there was pain, blinding pain that made him cry out, then there was a swelling numbness that took the pain away as soon as it had come, soothing it insensate, and then there was...

"Ohhhh..." moaned Hexus, completely unexpecting the sudden rush of spine-tingling pleasure that exploded through him and though he was held virtually immobile he still strained and writhed frustratedly against the werespiders mouth, but now he was straining into it. Oh gods, it felt so good, his nerves were alight and tingling, seemingly feeling more intensely than before and everything from the tickle of the carpet against his back and ass to the prickling follicles on Helstrommes hands to the suction and slow rush of his own blood against his neck to the swelling of his traitrous cock was magnified a hundredfold. He tried to grit his teeth and keep silent but the orgiastic pleasure forced ecstatic gasps and moans from him despite his best efforts, it was just too much.

After a minute or so the spider finally pulled away and Hexus panted plaintively, the pleasurable tingle was still there but he still felt the sting of his wounds regenerating closed "Wha-?" he gasped.

"My venom, a full dose is lethal, even to you, but a little residue is simply narcotic." explained Helstromme, a trial of Hexus's blood ran down his chin from the corner of his mouth, he wiped it away almost daintily with the side of his hand and licked it "You are delicious, little rat, like strawberries and vodka." he said, approvingly "It was so good I almost took too much."

He cast a glance oer the full length of Hexus's body and a snaking tongue licked his lips furtively, coating their alabaster perfection with rosy smears of blood like lipstick. "Yes, I think I am going to enjoy this a great deal." he said, huskily. Hexus hadn't imagined that, there was genuine lust clear in his voice and even though the werespiders were notoriously in control of their emotions his sinuses were filling with the scent of preparatory sex-pheromones that fell off the spider in waves.

Oh, fuck...actually, come to think of it that was a poor choice of word.

"Hey, I appreciate the venom-high and all but I was just railed by a whole room full of werewolves just two days ago so do you think you could maybe give the raping a rest for a while, master?" he said, skirting the edge of sanity.

"Rape? Oh no, you shall enjoy this too."

"That's, uh, nice and all, master, but I'm not really into guys that much." said Hexus.

"Oh? And what's this then?" said the Spider, amusedly, one cool, smooth, prickly hand stoking Hexus's achingly hard cock and forcing another involentary groan from him.

"That's...that is..." he protested weakly.

"That is an amendment I had made to the neurocode." said the spider, silkily.

"Wait...Y-you turned me gay!?" yelped Hexus in shocked realisation.

"No, not quite. It doesn't matter what your preference was before, because now you want me, above and beyond whatever attractions you held previously." said the Spider with a chuckle "It was a kindness, for your benefit, you can thank me later."

"Oh, and when is that, Master?" he said, angrily, sarcasm dripping off the honorific.

"How about in an hour or so, after I'm done with you for the morning?" said Helstromme, and with that he settled back on his feet and hoisted Hexus up in the air with all four arms, coaxing a yelp of surprise.

"Whoa, shit, let me down, please! I'm not good with heights!" he cried, held aloft like a trophy, spreadeagled and naked. Helstromme mostly ignored his protests except to laugh softly under his breath as he strode toward a pair of doors at the end of the room, how he managed to keep his balance so easily with the weight of the struggling wererat perched above him was a mystery to Hexus, but it didn't seem to cause him any difficulties.

The room the doors opened into was dark, the curtains drawn, and the werespiders arms dipped lower to allow him under the door. A moment later and he was hurled physically through the air onto a bed, he skidded all the way to the end thanks to the slipperiness of the black silk that covered it.

Black silk, now that was more like what a werespider should have! he thought in some small corner of his mind that was slowly and gradually going stark-raving crazy.

He started at a tearing sound and saw that Helstromme had turned his claws to the task of tearing off his already-ruined silk shirt, a shirt that probably cost more than the entire contents of Hexus's wardrobe. Shedding the skin-hugging leather trousers too, he climbed over the footboard like...well, like a spider, stalking the cornered rat at the other end of the gargantuan bed.

"Change for me." he said, slamming down one claw next to Hexus's head and leaning in close.

"What?" said Hexus, confused.

"shift to your hybrid, NOW!" said Helstromme, practically barking the last word.

Hexus didn't think he'd ever changed as quickly in his life. In the blink of an eye his human form had been replaced by the sleek, muscular rodent-hybrid form that was a wererats greatest weapon, shining light-gold fur covered him and the familiar feeling of the thick, prehensile tail that he wore in this form, returned.

"Yes, yes! Just as beautiful as I imagined!" hissed the spider, violating Hexus with his eyes.

Hexus couldn't move, even in his hybrid form he felt bound and powerless, it was useless, if he couldn't attack and a single order could drop him dead in his tracks then what use was even this, his most powerful form?

"Open your legs." came another order, and he did, instantly, barely thinking about it. He cringed with humilliation, thinking about how he must look right now, but all thought was dispelled when he felt a single hard digit slip past his anus, rocking his hypersensitive body with serieses of rippling pre-orgasms, chitters and squeaks from his semi-rodentine vocal chords now joining his usual moans.

"There now, this won't be all bad for you, I am not so naive that I think you will truly enjoy yourself this first time but in time you will grow to love my touch." said Helstromme, smiling faintly in the half-light before slipping a second finger in and scissoring them open and closed. Hexus grit his teeth to stop himself from saying something he'd regret, or be made to regret, at least.

More ripples of stomach-clenching pleasure tore through him as the spiders agile fingers gently stroked his prostate until he was wordless from overstimulation and the fingers were eventually withdrawn. He sighed with relief at feeling their absense, no longer teasing him into an aroused stupor, but his treacherous body seemed to want them back, his cock, bigger now in hybrid form, was standing proudly erect and dripping a steady stream of pre into his fur and his ass clenched as though wanting to be filled. Fuck, what was in that venom?

"Hmmm, yes, you look about ready..." crooned Helstromme and without warning he went into a flurry of activity, grabbing Hexus's wrists and doing something he couldn't quite catch. When it was over his wrists were bound to the headboard by some sticky, white cable that resisted even his prodigious strength in his attempt to get loose. So, the werespiders really could make webbing, apparently "That's to stop you moving around should you get some foolish idea to interrupt our fun."

The air changed again as the werespider shifted deeper into hybrid, the chitinous gauntlets exploding up his arms and shoulders, the horrifying black limbs at his back becoming thicker and stronger-looking, for a moment the spiders face was obscured by his hair but when he looked up his skin had become waxen-grey, shiny and almost hard-looking, his fangs now extended down as far as the cusp of his chin and a second pair of violet eyes took their place on his cheeks. His chest and stomach were similarly affected, still human in general shape but far harder and more defined than before. In short he looked like something from a scifi horror-movie.

So why was Hexus getting so aroused by watching him shift?

" I can taste your fear, little mouse." he growled, stalking on all eight limbs to tower over Hexus " And your lust, it is right and proper that you should feel so."

"Why should I be afraid, I thought you said this wasn't rape?" protested Hexus, weakly.

The spider-shifter laughed a deep, throaty laugh " Because you are prey, of course, and I am predator." he said, leaning in and running his tongue over the spot on Hexus's neck where he had been bitten, it had fully healed but the new skin was still tingly and delicate, the moist warmth was actually quite soothing, but it reminded him of being bitten all the same " So there will always be fear, but it need not be bad, nor all of your experience. It is like my venom, all is death, but a little...ecstasy."

Then the spider was moving against him, there was a growing pressure against his opening and then a slow give as he was penetrated, a chitter-groan bubbling up from his throat. The werespiders movements were slow, smooth and fluid in the way only semi-hydraulic muscles could deliver as he slid in and out again and again, unhurried and unhindered by mammalian urges he was free to take as long as his pet could stand.

"Angh...f-uck!" sqeuaked Hexus, writhing and near-incoherent with an ever-building need that just grew and grew, every stroke that pounded so torturously slowly into his guts spread new feelings through him, hot, toe-curling, heart-pounding feelings that just got better and better and didn't stop until it became a new kind of torture, an exquisite torture of pleasure so keen it was almost pain. Oh, sweet allmother, it felt so good.

Helstromme brought one hand up to Hexus's bliss-contorted face and slipped a thumb past his muzzle, the thought of biting down on it briefly passed through his mind but his jaw locked up as soon as it did, he abandoned the idea and his jaw-muscles untensed again. In the euphoric haze that was passing over him from the slow, relentless, merciless fucking he instinctively began suckling on the digit, the quill-hairs pricked his tongue but he didn't really care, he barely noticed when a finger and then another joined it until the digits were removed and began tracing small, tight circles on his furless nipple, the slickness of his saliva and the gentle, sensitisng prickles of the spider-hairs adding a new layer to the sensations that were almost tearing his body appart.

When he finally came it suprised him with it's suddeness, one second he was wriggling and keening in what seemed like unending pleasure and then Helstromme suddenly hilted him deeper than ever and his eyes went wide with shock and he screamed as hot bursts of thick, white seed were launched by potent internal contractions across his chest and stomach.

"Gah-ah! What the-?" he gasped in a choked voice, his throat having siezed up from the strain and his voice aching from...screaming. Oh, shit, he didn't just scream the spiders name did he? No, impossible, that would be WAY too embarrasing to happen, he assured himself. Then he looked up as his head lolled back in release.

"Oh...you have a mirrored ceiling, how...seventies." he said with a hysterical little giggle. Nothing that had ever happened to him, bar none, was quite as mortifying as looking up and seeing himself, wearing his hybrid form, slick with his own cum and impaled upon another were's cock. Screaming the name of his captor in the midst of steamy, venom-drugged and really, really long sex was nothing by comparison.

The room practically shook with Helstrommes laughter as he withdrew and shifted slowly back to human " You are most amusing little rat, you are going to make a fine replacement for Jeremy." he said, his tone losing its inhuman depth and timbre as the arachnid features dissapated until at last the extra limbs folded away and dissappeared into his back.

"Hmmm, I hope you found some enjoyment in that, mammal-shifters often find simultaneous orgasm as rewarding as they find it difficult." he said, running a hand through his flaxen hair "In truth all it takes is patience and control, things no spider would ever be in short supply of."

Helstromme stretched luxuriantly and rose from the bed, striding nude over to the windows and throwing the curtains wide. For a long moment he just stood there, utterly unmoving, still as if he were carved from the alabaster his skin resembled, and Hexus realised he was drinking in the warmth of the sunlight, letting it seep into his tissues like a cold-blooded arachnid would. He heard the spider-shifter take a deep breath and then he turned around to face the bound wererat.

"I like to start every morning in this way, and end every evening in similar fashion. While I am away your primary duties are to keep yourself clean, fed and, above all, ready." he said in a tone imperious yet genial "Once I am certain you will not prove an embarrasment you may accompany me to social functions, so there is an incentive to good behaviour."

Great, be a good little fucktoy and you get to hobnob with the toffs, brilliant incentive. thought Hexus Not that I'm going to be around here that long.

Helstromme indicated a cabinet on the other side of the room "That contains Jeremies clothes, you're about the same size in human human form but they obviously haven't been let out to allow shifting, not that that is a problem. Pick something nice to wear and be in it by the time I get back. I'll have a shopper sent to buy you new accoutrements at some point."

"Why?" said Hexus, settling back into human-form and finding, much to his annoyance, that the webbing contracted along with him.

"Must I correct you again?" said the werespider, almost exasperatedly.

"Why, Master?" said Hexus, too tired and irritable to continue hiding his sarcasm.

"Because Jeremy was dark-haired and had a more mature appearance, his clothes won't look completely right on you."

"So why do you care?"

The spider just blinked, as though failing to parse the question "I really don't know how your mind works, rodent, but it is amusing." he said at last and draped a black dressing-gown over his shoulders and tied it shut at the side in a neat bow before turning to leave.

"h-hey! Wait, aren't you going to let me put of this stuff!?" he yelled after the Werespiders retreating back, straining against the webbing restraints.

"It disintegrates after a few hours, a maid will be up with your breakfast before then." came the response as the Werespider finally moved out of view.

"Oh...WELL THAT'S JUST FINE THEN!" he yelled back, fuming with anger and frustration with the webs until the realisation dawned on him that someone else, probably a sweet, innocent young girl was going to come in to bring his food and find him...like this, arms glued to the headboard of her employers bed and covered in copious quantities of highly-suspicious white fluid.

Okay, now THAT gave him a kick, it was so sleazy...and very rat.

Still, not much to do until that little piece of entertainment came up. Briefly, he reviewed a number of possible escape plans, but all of them, successful or not, resulted in him being stuck with this damn mental block that kept him from shifting or using magic. If he got away in the state he was he'd have to live as a human, but longer, maybe forever unless he committed suicide, which eventually he would. Living as a human forever and not even able to get aug'ed thanks to his regeneration? Shit, he'd rather die. If only he could get his hands on a neural patterner...yeah, fat chance.

Divested of valid ideas for the timebeing, he sighed and tested the restraining webs again, finding them still strong but with perhaps a milimeter or so more give than before.

He was alone, distressingly alone. Fuck it was boring, he'd give his left nut for something to do right now, even getting screwed again would be something.

"Love 'em and leave 'em, eh?" he said to his reflection on the ceiling "Talk about the story of my fucking life."