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Chapter 1 - Maghithae’s Candlewax Helper

A figure sculpted entirely out of candle wax stood in the clearing of the greenhouse behind my home, dimly illuminated by a rusty lighting fixture hanging overhead. The autumn breezes of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula often threatened a snowy entourage, but the temperatures remained quite amicable on this particular evening. All the better; if it were too warm, the wax might start to melt, even in the back corner of the greenhouse that didn’t stand directly underneath the glass.

I opted to form the figure in a vaguely canine shape, though I didn’t carve enough details to distinguish it beyond that. One could call it a fox just as easily as one could call it a husky. I hadn’t had any real experience as a sculptor. But that sort of thing hardly mattered. As soon as the spell took hold, more particular details would form unto themselves.

Perhaps, being a fox myself, I egotistically desired to create something styled after myself, though it was just as true that seeing myself in a mirror helped me form a point of reference.

Maghithae’s Candlewax Helper was an old, complicated ritual, requiring not only the wit and will of a patient witch, but a veritable grove’s worth of esoteric herbs and reagents. And naturally, one had to melt a thousand candles into a single mound before carving it down to the ideal shape. Fronds from the Richard’s Wise Willow plant could facilitate a faux nervous structure. A rare strain of fungus related to cordyceps would bind such a nervous system to a biological structure. And perhaps most importantly, a borderline gray powder crafted by a witch from the The Pious Circle for the Pale Hound on High would aid in the required animation. All of which were promptly affixed to the canine’s chest, and held fast by the wax of the one-thousand-and-first candle.

Strange runes were diligently copied from a flashcard to the wax canine’s head, drawn in order to bless the creation with baseline knowledge and the capacity to learn’ or so the hastily scribbled notes said. A circle of salt enveloped the two of us in order to protect from any wayward spirits, all too keen to possess a new host. The moon was full, and shone its glittering, blue light over the scene, and though it wasn’t a required part of the ritual, it bolstered the magic therein all the same.

Thankfully, the verbal component to the ritual was written in English. “I beckon thee, oh form of wax, to come to life, and to be my sentinel, my servant, and my aid. In the art and manner of the archwitch Maghithae, I beckon you, oh form of no living thing, to come into existence as such a thing alive!”

I held a blackened, gnarled cherrywood wand aloft and caught the light of the moon, almost as if the magical tool were a lightning rod, and the moonlight were a bolt. Oddly enough, the paperstock flashcard disintegrated in my paw as soon as the light bent towards the wax being. The bits of greenery that stuck out from the figure’s chest faded to black dust as well, and the runes carved onto his head melted into a smooth surface. And almost as suddenly as the ritual began, so too did it end. The light from the wand was suddenly snuffed out, and even the overhead lamp went dark. I found myself quickly drenched in a coat of darkness, and waited for my nocturnal vulpine eyes to adjust.

Seconds passed, and then half of a minute. The only sound to grace my ears was the mundane chorus of crickets, quietly breaching the glass of the greenhouse. This wasn’t the sort of magic in which I’d had much experience, but I thought hopefully that I'd at least see a spark of purple energy, or a twitch in the wax canine’s fingers. My eyes adjusted to the darkness, and I saw no such result.

I cursed myself for letting the flashcards disintegrate. I wouldn’t be able to double-check the steps I took to see where my mistake lied as soon as I read my research notes again. At least I wouldn’t have to painstakingly melt a thousand candles again, the figure in front of me remained intact.

I half-wished that my roommate, the arctic fox Florence Dragonheart, had gone to bed. I didn’t want to be made fun of for failing the ritual, turning tail, and crawling back inside. She was just as much of a night owl as I was, however, so such derision was only inevitable. Perhaps that was the reason why I lingered in my greenhouse a few minutes longer, pointlessly watching the carved wax dog for any signs of life. Even more pointlessly, I hazarded a question.

“I don’t s’pose you’re feeling chatty.”

My vulpine eyes caught the slightest shift in the wax figure’s face. Even though his eyes were fundamentally no different from the wax lids that covered them, they opened all the same.

“If Master would wish for one to be chatty. This one can oblige.”

No one had mentioned anything about a verbal component activating the being.

“Oh damn, are- So you’re alive now?”

The wax figure remained still, like a statue, but I noticed very quickly that his muzzle was moving. Though I couldn’t see as well as I could in direct sunlight, I half-noticed more detailed lines in the figure’s face, emulating tufts of fur.

“This one is and is not alive. This one is incapable of producing an answer to such a philosophical question. But in simpler terms, this one is animated.” His voice was folksy and masculine, as though he were reading Beowulf for an audio book recording, but it was stilted and robotic all the same. He continued to stand like a statue.

“Nah, it’s all good. You don’t gotta worry about philosophical stuff.”

“This one will not worry about philosophical stuff.” He proceeded to continue to stand like a statue.

“Are you able to move?”

“Is Master granting this one permission to move?”

I wasn’t expecting the Candlewax Helper to be so litigous. “Yeah, you can move around.”

Candlewax snapped as the newly-animated being tested out its motor controls for the first time. If one were to close their eyes, it’d almost sound as though the wax canine were cracking his bones. The rough features of the sculpture, that a poor sculptor such as myself could manage, started to melt and reform, creating textures and patterns reminiscent of detailed fur throughout his entire body. These little nuances helped the being to appear more like a proper fox. But for all that the being was given permission to do, he merely decided upon bending his arms towards himself, one at a time, before bending his knees upward, one at a time. He then once again proceeded to continue to stand like a statue.

I made a declaration that would set the course for the rest of the evening. “I can tell that there’s going to be a lot of you staying still until I order you to do things.” I’d never experienced such power over a being before. I was normally the sub. “But for the foreseeable future, you have full permission to walk around and move about as much as you want.”

“This one does not want.”

I stroked the fur beneath my chin pensively, figuring out the ideal word usage to make both of our lives easier. “Just so we’re on the same page; do you know things? Like basic information?”

“This one knows language, matters of science, of math, and of history.”

“OK, but you know what it means to want things, though, right?”

“This one is not typically one that is granted such permissions.”

“But you do know what wanting feels like?”

“It has been described, but not typically allowed.”

As far as I was concerned, there was no harm in spending a wish to grant the genie freedom. “Then I order you to think really hard about how it works, and then start wanting things.”

At the moment, it seemed as though it were a quick and easy way to manage the situation.

The wax figure paused momentarily, and then seemingly figured it out, taking the initiative and then walking towards me. “This one is very grateful. To want is a good thing.” He then proceeded to wrap his waxy arms around my upper torso. He apparently wanted a hug. His strong grip was anything but light and dainty.

“Uh, whatcha doing?”

“This one now wants. This one wants Master’s embrace.”

Immediately, my heart began to melt. Such a response registered to me as heartwarming. I’m quite a strange fox.

I wriggled my arms free from the wax figure’s grip and proceeded to hold tightly to the other canine’s torso, happy that my risk was calculated, and the magic within the wax figure’s body protected it from snapping apart easily. “I appreciate that a lot, my- Uh, do you want a name?”

“This one wants a name.”

“Do you have one in mind?”

“This one wants Master to choose this one’s name.”

I thought it over for a moment and failed to come up with anything creative. “Shit. I haven’t thought about that much yet. Do you mind waiting?”

“This one does not mind waiting.”

“Cool, cool. I’ll get back to you as soon as I come up with something neat.”

“This one wants to fuck Master.”

My words caught in my throat. This was not an aspect to the spell in which I was familiar with.

The wax figure didn’t make any additional movements, nor did it let up on the hug. In fact, I wriggled a bit to test the being’s strength, and found that it wouldn’t budge. “I’m sorry, just clarifying. Are you horny?”

“This one wants to penetrate this one’s Master with this one’s cock. Master will take this one’s cock into Master’s asshole. This one hopes that this one has clarified. This one is very grateful. To want is a good thing.” Sure enough, the wax being’s body was capable of natural biological functions, and a long mass of hardened wax started to rub against my furry thigh.

This wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when I performed the ritual for Maghithae’s Candlewax Helper. A good friend of mine from the Apothecary’s Guild, nestled snugly within the secretive, magical Awngaimene society, showed me their Candlewax Helper, I was absolutely charmed. The Helper of my Apothecary friend, Glenmorgan, wasn’t just an obedient butler, he was a charismatic friend with a surprising knack for comedic timing. And though I wasn’t going to pass up on the opportunity to let someone wash my dishes for me, I was mostly enamored by the idea of literally spawning a cool friend into my social dynamic. Naturally, I wasn’t going to force him to be my perpetual servant. I wanted to teach him first and foremost that he had autonomy and free will, or as much as the spell would allow. The instructions weren’t too clear on that. And naturally, I’d let him stay at my place. I wouldn’t even need to worry about sustaining him with food or rest. He literally only needed to eat candles. It seemed like a fun, nonchalant little project to spend my free time on this month, and I wasn’t even expecting the results to be automatically successful.

I also wasn’t expecting the wax figure to so quickly and suddenly become a perverted hornball.

“This one wants Master to take his pants off and expose his asshole, so that this one can penetrate it with this one’s cock.”

Suddenly bashful, which was an unusual trait for me, I tried to pull out of the wax canine’s embrace once more, and found his grip to remain unshakable. “I think we should probably figure out a few things.” I tried sliding down towards the exposed, dusty floor, finding it easier to break free of the grasp if I tried pulling in that direction.

“This one wants to fuck Master now.”

I underestimated how much power I’d given the being by letting it act on his sense of want alone. I fell to my knees as soon as his grip slipped enough. My purple witch hat fell to the floor as a result. I also noticed a strange phenomenon; my body heat has caused a miniscule amount of wax to melt, which clung to my fur as quickly as it had turned liquid. But even with such lubrication coming to my aid, the figure was quick to pick me up and hold onto me as soon as I found my freedom. This time, he was hugging me from behind, lining his wax cock against the tip of my tailhole as soon as he was able to. All he needed to do was to quickly pull my foxtail out of the slit and bring my black sweatpants to the floor in a singular, fluid motion. It happened in the blink of an eye.

With a force that I couldn’t hope of matching, he thrust his cock into me without so much as a quick rimjob to lube me up. I tried in vain to break out of his grasp, but my strength was dwarfed by the strange, magical force brought about by the crackling spellcraft that brought this figure to life, and I held still. My tailhole struggled to accept its new intruder, and painful friction caused me to cry out in pain, but my well-used hole wouldn’t hold out for long. The wax figure even managed to groan as he thrust half of his length into me, though he quickly became silent once more as he continued to hump.

I suppose it was partially my fault that I bothered to sculpt a foot-long, knotted cock in the first place.

It didn’t take long for my painful outbursts to melt into moans of pleasure, even without the presence of lube. The friction caused by the figure’s methodical, full-length thrusting pattern, caused a bit of wax to melt. And though candlewax isn’t the most ideal form of lubrication, it wasn’t exactly unhelpful while it was still in liquid form. However, through a sense of touch alone, I could tell that such melting didn’t cause the being’s cock to shrink in size. And slowly, yett surely, he began to pick up the pace, pushing me down onto my paws and knees so that he could fuck me doggy-style. The dirt of the greenhouse floor caked itself into the fur of my shins and knees. Even though my pleasured moans betrayed a different notion, the conscious part of my brain sought a break from the sculpture’s sudden expression of sexuality.

I wracked my brain hard, trying to figure out why my Candlewax Helper was as horny as he was, and decided to ask outright. “Wait, stop! I beckon you, why are you doing this?”

He did not stop, and continued to slowly, rhythmically fuck me. In fact, the more that he grinded his torso against my back, the more I could feel his wax body melt. It had begun to coat the yellow fur on my tail and the backs of my thighs.

“This one enjoys the feeling of a hole tugging on this one’s cock. And Master’s ass is wonderful and pleasurable.”

“OK, but, like- Ahh! Ah! Um, I was led to believe that this sort of animated- ah! Fuck! Being horny isn’t usually associated with animated constructs.” He had managed to find my prostate, and was diligently grinding against it internally.

“Master has given this one permission to want, and this one wants to fuck.”

I opted for a new tactic, hoping it would at least bring the figure to a pause. “OK, wait- Why do you use the phrase ‘This one’ to describe yourself? You don’t have to do that.”

The Candlewax Helper still didn’t find it in himself to pause. He continued his pace and responded casually, as though he weren’t actively fucking my unlubricated hole. “It is in the nature of the runes and the ritual which brought this one to life. Aspects of language determined before now determine the way in which I speak. Such is the way that this one is able to possess knowledge before animation, and to form memory.” It was not the sort of pillow talk I was used to hearing while getting fucked anally. I somehow still managed to dribble a bit of pre-cum from my sheath, the red tip of my vulpine cock slowly getting coaxed out.

Through gritted teeth and lustful groans, I told the wax figure, “You don’t gotta do all that. You can refer to yourself how you wish- Oh my Gods!” He hit the prostate hard that time. “We should probably take a break and set some boundaries-”

“I want to fuck Master.”

With a single thrust, he forced the entirety of his waxy cock into me, all the way up to the knot. I cried out a pleasurable moan that was impossible to discern as anything other than the whining of a fox in heat. The wax figure took it upon himself to grab onto my upper body and pull me up from the doggy-style position, holding onto me from behind with a vice grip that was impossible to escape. His white, waxy body grinded against my back, and we had almost begun to fuse together due to the friction. His body practically stuck to mine as his thick knot threatened to spread my anal ring past its normal limit. I was almost utterly lost to my lust, but I still found myself able to worry about the Helper’s well-being. “Wait, you’re melting! Are you OK?”

“I have a reserve of wax in my tail I can pull from. Master can feed me candles to replenish my reserve once I’ve finished fucking Master.”

I found myself gasping in ecstasy, unable to pull myself away from the lover I brought to life, all too eager to bring my body closer to his. I decided to give up all inhibition, and let him fuck me without pause. A steady stream of precum dribbled from my cock, now halfway out of its fluffy sheath. The being’s slow, diligent speed of penetration had begun to pick up in intensity. The figure kept the top half of his cock in my hole and only pulled out the bottom half with each thrust. And every time that bulbous, waxy knot met with my hole, it threatened to push past and enter inside, even without lubrication. But it was almost as though it was the Helper who was preventing the tie instead of biology alone.

Within the span of a minute, I had seemingly been brought to the same level of needy horniness as the Candlewax Helper I’d animated, but when I reached down to start stroking my own cock, the Helper pulled my arms away. “I want to be the only being which gives Master pleasure.”

I couldn’t stand it any longer. “Please! Please, knot me!”

“To want is a good thing.”

Even lust-blind as I was in the moment, I was able to parse past the esoteric phrasing and glean the true meaning behind the figure’s words. “Yes, yes! Whatever you want! Take it!”

“I want to become the Master.”

He kept humping, ever so slightly, but the wax figure was very adept at keeping his knotted cock on the perpetual precipice of sliding inside without actively completing the tie. My body, still adhering to the melted wax of the figure’s front body, ached and shivered with anticipation. I knew fully well that my constant habit of granting the animated figure permission to do things led to wild, unpredictable situations, but I also knew that I wanted to cum. And I knew that letting the wax figure switch roles with me would potentially bring me to that conclusion. So despite any better judgment, I cried out. “Yes, you’re the Master now! Please fuck me!”

But instead of knotfucking me, the waxy canine brought his right arm diagonally across my body, and his left arm across my neck. He held my cock in his sticky, waxy paw, and gripped my throat with the other limb.

I couldn’t speak, and instead, I heard the breathless voice of my new dominant partner whisper into my ear. “I want to fuck my property. But I cannot fuck my property until he is completely submissive.”

And then, the Helper began to stroke my cock. Or so I thought; his waxy paw began to melt, and coat itself over the entire length of my half-exposed member, as well as the sheath it stuck out of. In a fluid motion, he gripped hard with his still-solid wrist and base of his thumb in order to prevent me from getting any harder. He then allowed the waxy coating to pool over my entire package, only to cool and harden into an impenetrable shell. His paw had reformed as quickly as it had melted, and with a single claw, he left a hole at the tip of my cock in case any stray fluids needed to escape.

In a manner of speaking, the Candlewax Helper had formed his own chastity cage. My canine dick throbbed and pulsated inside of it, but despite the fact that the mound was made of mere candlewax, it was thick enough that I couldn’t break the shell.

All the while, he pressed the thumb of his paw into my throat in order to cut off my air supply. I could neither speak nor breathe, and the sudden sense of lightheadedness brought me an erotic mixture of pleasure and panic. As soon as the waxy chastity cage had completely hardened, he brought his right paw up to my neck, and I felt the wax melt once more. In a similar fashion, he was forming a lumpy collar around my neck, barely loose enough to allow me to breathe. I’d only be able to take in half as much air as I was normally able to. A quick tugging motion indicated that he’d formed a wax leash as well, just outside of view, and he held onto the leash with the same magical grip that prevented me from escaping his embrace. The collar wasn’t necessary in keeping me still, but it was a fun tool in which the Candlewax Helper could control my breathing. All the while, the melted wax caused me to cling to his body while his cock continued to throb, still not completing the tie.

Once again, I had underestimated this ritual. The being in which I brought to life was now completely in control of me.

The Helper pulled at the leash hard, and once again, I couldn’t manage the words to speak. His hard muzzle brushed against the side of my head, and he spoke once more. “I want you to bring your arms down to the side of my body, so that I may bind you to me, servant.”

Even before he once again made the phantom promise to knot me, and before he tugged at the leash once more in order to threaten me by cutting off my air, I obediently followed his command. So soon had I slipped into my desired role as a completely submissive partner. The being guided my arms with his own, and in the same way in which my back fused to the Helper’s front, my arms fused to the side of his body, sinking into his body as soon as I grazed against it. The figure still maintained the usage of his limbs, but I was completely bound to my new Master.

He let loose his grip on the leash just as my vision started to fade, and I spoke. “Please, fuck me!” I was lost in a torrent of pleasure that completely overwhelmed all pretense for self-preservation.

“I will fuck my property whenever I want, regardless of if my property beckons me for it.”

I almost failed to notice that his legs started to melt into mine as well, completely binding all four of my limbs. There was no sign that the figure would encase my entire body in wax, for he stopped as soon as my limbs were held fast, but the wax wasn’t going to come out of my fur for at least a couple of days. Then, gently and fluidly, the figure laid the both of us down until we were both lying on our stomachs. He rested his full weight onto my bound body, and began to thrust.

He fucked fast and hard, his rapid little motions benefiting from the added gravity. Though he had no saliva, the wax figure did have a tongue, and he licked and kissed the sides of my face as he pushed my face into the dusty floor. I felt myself quickly approaching an anal orgasm from the sheer unrelenting thrusting pattern alone, but I knew that once he shoved his knot into me, it’d seal the deal. My makeshift chastity cage completely stifled any erection I felt biologically compelled to form, but I was more than happy to cum from the prostate stimulation alone if I didn’t actually shoot any rope myself.

I vaguely wondered if the sculpture could properly cum, but it was more likely that I was about to experience the feeling of multiple sticky, white ropes of candle wax painting my insides. The Candlewax Helper wasn’t constructed out of any candles with a particular aroma, so the smooth, almost creamy scent of wax by itself dominated my palette. I couldn’t budge, and I couldn’t force him off of me. And I couldn’t have been more happy to let my new master lay claim to his prize.

Before long, his knot sunk in.

Up to that point, the wax figure made love quietly, not even so much as grunting or breathing heavily. But as soon as his knot stretched my ring wide open and made its way through to the other side, he let out a loud, baritone, monotone groan of pleasure. My vocalizations, on the other paw, were high, tenor, and raspy with full abandon, though my lover only let me scream out for a few seconds before pulling on the leash again. My ass clenched hard, barely accepting a knot that almost felt the same size as a grapefruit. My body began to convulse automatically, as it rocked up into the wax figure. The tie alone had brought me to an anal climax. Pre dripped from the tiny slit of my wax cage, half-threatening to be a proper orgasm in its own right.

Then, the Candlewax Helper began to shoot his own load into me. It was enough fluid that I could easily feel it course deeper into my tailhole, but if my claim of feeling my master’s orgasm so deep inside of me was a dubious claim, it wouldn’t be for long. Despite my internal body temperature, his wax “semen” began to harden as quickly as he came, and the wax figure managed to cum enough fluid to easily add another six inches of waxy mass on top of the length felt by his foot-long cock. I knew that the mass of hardened cum would remain inside, even well after the canine sculpture pulled his knot out. The depth and width of the canine’s pleasure was almost unbearable, as was the euphoric sense of oxygen deprivation caused by the canine’s continuous grip on the leash. I couldn’t stop my body from spasming, even with the sculpture’s full weight pressing me into the floor. For a minute, I lay underneath the still, silent Helper, fully convinced that I couldn’t form any meaningful words, even if there weren’t a tight collar constricting around my neck. And then, after pointlessly gurgling for air, and traipsing close to the edge of consciousness, the Helper let up on the leash.

I started gasping and breathing heavily, still unable to catch a full breath with the canine’s heavy torso lying into me. But the waves of pleasure washing throughout my body failed to fully wane. My master’s meaty cock continued to throb, and the two of us basked in a blissful afterglow.

But then, the Candlewax Helper began to stir, and quickly brought the both of us to our hindpaws, standing upright. I was still completely bound to my master’s body, which helped to prevent his massive cock from pulling too hard at my taihole’s ring, but there was a slight tugging sensation all the same that coaxed another hearty moan from my muzzle.

We were almost the same height, but the figure positioned my body so that my hindpaws were resting on top of his. He alone had the ability to walk the both of us. We started to leave the greenhouse, stepping out into the cool autumn air. The wax canine’s gait was entirely unencumbered, as though I weren’t literally hanging off of him. The magic involved with the ritual had made the figure far stronger than I anticipated.

“Where are you taking me, master?” I asked with a weak, breathy voice.

“I want my property to feed me candles, and then I want to fuck him in his bed.” His knot hadn’t even begun to shrink. Each step sent it ramming right up against my prostate.

“Yes, master,” I replied between moans. I was hesitant to ask the Candlewax Helper any further questions, at risk of usurping his newfound authority, but I asked anyway. “How many times can you cum, master?”

“I can fuck as often as I want to fuck.” Which was to say, if my assumption was correct; he didn’t suffer the sexual exhaustion most animals experienced. As long as he had a steady supply of candles to consume, he could cum into me without pause if he wanted to. And considering that I gave the figure permission to want things, he was going to act on that sense of want without any interruption.

We had reached the back door to the cabin I lived in. The lights were out in the living room, so thankfully, my roommate wouldn’t see this humiliating display. In the darkness of my recently-cleaned kitchen, the wax canine beckoned an order. “Tell me where your bedroom is, servant.”

“Take a right, then another right, go down the hallway, and then it’s your first right.” I almost let him continue before I remembered to add on a meager, “Sir- er, master.”

“Tell me if there are candles in your room.”

I had picked up an absurd amount of candles in bulk from a wholesale store, and kept them all in a cardboard box at the foot of my bed. “Yes, master.”

“You will feed them to me, and then I will pull my cock out of you, and then fuck you once more.” We were already walking towards my bedroom.

A muffled voice yelled out from down the hallway, coming from Florence’s room. “Is someone there, Forsy?”

“Yes, Florence!” I responded loudly. “Just stay in your room! Everything is normal!”

“I’ll put on headphones!”

The Candlewax Helper didn’t pay the exchange any particular mind as he opened my bedroom door and took us inside. He only had one thing on his mind.

I felt the figure’s body become softer, and realized that he was melting enough to release the bonds that held us together. I realized that too late, however, and collapsed to the plush floor in shock of the sudden freedom.

Contrarily, his knot had remained firmly lodged inside of my hole, and as I fell to my paws and knees, I felt it tug at my hole's entrance with an almost unbearable degree of force. I turned to face my master, and for a brief moment, the Helper’s body was blobby and misshapen as a result of me getting pulled out of him, but it only took him a matter of seconds to automatically reshape his body to appear as a normal vulpine once more. He once again styled it in a way to put on the illusion that he had actual fur, though a single touch would confirm that it was still hard wax. His tail had shrunk down a third of its size.

“Fetch the candles, servant, then join me in your bed.”

He pulled his knot out, and I was sent into a quivering, shaking bundle of nerves on the floor, groaning in a blissful mixture of agony and euphoria. My ass screamed out in pain, uncomfortable with the sudden gaping feeling. Unlike normal canine biology, the wax figure’s knot didn’t shrink post-orgasm, and the grapefruit-sized bulb was pulled out without changing in mass. The tube of candle wax that the sculpture shot into my tailhole remained. It almost felt as though I’d lost a dildo inside of myself.

I hadn’t followed my master’s orders quickly enough. “Feed me now, servant. I do not want to wait.”

I scrambled on the floor like a rabid, feral fox, scooping up a pawful of white, tapered candles from the box. The fiery cacophony of nerves inside of my tailhole prohibited me from moving too quickly, but I wasn’t about to disobey my master’s orders. The Candlewax Helper rested on his back on my unmade bed, choosing to simply sit on top of the bundle of clothes and sheets. I knew that there’d be an uncleanable, waxy mess in the morning. His white paws were placed right in front of my face, etched with enough detail that I could make out singular lines in parts of his paw pads. I was apparently hypnotized by his paws for too long, however, because the figure pulled hard at my leash, bringing me up to the bed. I even dropped a few candles in the process, which earned another hard tug. Before long, the two of us wriggled about to find a comfortable position, until I was nestled underneath his left arm.

“Feed me, servant.”

“Yes, master.”

I brought a single tapered candle from my little pile to the canine’s wax muzzle. He opened it wide and took a bite, snapping off half of the wax rod. He chewed loudly, crunching the wax right next to my own pointed ears, and then he swallowed. He polished off the rest of the candle in a similar fashion.

And then, he said, “I love you, pet.”

Without even succumbing to his dominant aura, or even repeating it out of an urge to stay on the figure’s good side, I replied with full earnesty, “I love you too, master.” Without even receiving the order, I fed him another candle, and listened as he chewed.

My mind was awash in a flurry of confusing sensations and stimulations, but I felt a strange connection to the animated being. The connection went deeper than the connection made when a witch brings something to life. This being was no automaton, it expressed real desires and real wants, as soon as it was given permission to. And it recognized my wants as well, without me even needing to state them. One could argue that magic was to blame, but in the wax figure’s embrace, a real connection had seemed to develop, even without any witch’s trickery.

“I want to spend each night in your bed, and I want to fuck you every night.”

“Yes, master.” But there was something I needed to bring up. “Master, may I bring up something- er, make a request?”

“You may speak.”

“Master, you are not my only sexual partner. I’m also in a relationship with other animals as well. Does that offend you?”

“It does not matter to me if I am the sole owner of my property. You are able to be my property while also belonging to someone else. I am not prone to jealousy.”

I sighed in relief. I was going to be able to write more, varied magical horny stories after all. “Thank you, master.” I was quick to tack on an additional comment. “Though yes, master, my body belongs to you, and any time you order, I will give it to you freely.”

“My pet is a good, obedient pet.” The wax figure pulled me in tighter. I fed him another candle. The wax figure then continued speaking. “It is love that I feel for you. I love owning you, as my property. And I love seeing my pet able to have the things that he wants. That is what I want.”

“Thank you, master.” I squeezed him tightly. More splotches of wax had begun to coat my sticky coat of fur.

“But I also want one more thing.”

“Yes, master. Anything you want, master.”

“I want to choose my name. And my name shall be, unto itself, ‘Master.’”

“Yes, Master. That will be your name.”

“I have eaten enough candles. I want to fuck you again. Get on your belly.”

I did as was ordered, and crawled forward to get in position. I barely remembered that I kept a bottle of lube on the nightstand at the side of my bed at all times, but I remembered that fact too late. Master had already jammed his cock into my hole, making it halfway before finding any resistance.

The next morning, I got a text from my Apothecary friend, Glenmorgan. Master came inside of me twelve times, and my belly was practically bulging with candle wax as though I were pregnant with it. Neither of us slept.

Is your ass still intact, fox? You never texted me back last night, so I’m assuming you weren’t able to reach your phone if the Helper was fucking you all night. There’s a slight chance that one of the runes I gave you may or may not have the capacity to turn an animated construct into a complete and utter dom. Oopsie! Write me back if he lets you up off of his cock. Love, Glenmorgan.

I didn’t have time to type a response. Master wanted to fuck again.