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A Study of Connections

Part 15

For a-lycotonum

By Draconicon

The pendant kept her calm, for the most part. Hazel didn't know what it was doing to her, nor did she know why there was a fire of bubbling stuff under it that kept trying to get free. The peacefulness and happiness that the pendant gave her, the emptiness and serenity that followed with its pulses, were all that she needed to be happy. She knew what she was supposed to do, and that guidance, something that had been lacking when she had been unmarked, 'free', was something that she treasured dearly.

I am made better with this, she thought, staring straight ahead, her tongue hanging out of her mouth like a happy dog might have been likely to do. She smiled to herself, cocking her head to the side, her toes curling against the hard floor, her heels against her ass, her pussy clenching and dripping into a bowl between her legs. I'm a good girl. I'm a good girl. A good, obedient girl.

That was what she had been telling herself for the last...how long? Hours, surely, hours that she had been locked down here and just hoping for something good. The punishment hadn't come back, which she hoped meant that she was doing better for her mistress. Was Mistress Aster coming back? Was the mistress going to come back and tell her that she was a good girl? She hoped so. She wanted to be a good girl.

Hazel felt a little thirsty, but that was alright. The mistress would come with water and more when it was time. She would be taken care of. That was the promise of the pendant, something that she trusted in.

The bubbling heat just beneath the peace kept intruding on her, though, pushing at her, forcing her to look out of the fog that the pendant filled her head with. There were little thoughts, little images that kept filling her mind. Thoughts of...good people? She thought they were good. She felt that they were; when she saw their images in her head, she felt good things. A young man that had a dog penis off in a different city. An orange-skinned warrior that had been on her side and at it for days. A young woman that had worked in a library, and had been willing to wear a collar.

The collar.

Collar.

There was a sudden, sharp shock from the pendant, the first thing that it had done that actually hurt. Hazel yelped, the sound no different from a dog that had gotten hit on the nose, and she gasped as she sat up straighter.

"Nnngh..."

She recoiled from the mental image, pushing it away from her mind, trying to bring back all the other thoughts she had. Good thoughts, happy thoughts, foggy thoughts that didn't bring pain. Better to slip and slide further down into that than think of the other things.

She slipped down, trying to forget, but that black band, that black leather, stayed in her head. It was like some predator looming behind her, pushing at her happy, safe little fog, keeping her from feeling the true safety again.

As she whimpered in fear, the door finally opened. She looked up, seeing the silhouette of her mistress, and she smiled.

"Mistress Aster."

"Hazel."

There was some tiredness there, but also something like...satisfaction? She wasn't sure. Thinking was hard.

The elf crossed the room, taking the chain that held her to the wall and pulling it free. She was allowed to fall on all fours, her knees against the ground and her feet-paws against her ass cheeks. She shivered as she felt the wetness sliding down her thighs now rather than just falling to the ground, but didn't complain.

"Come with me."

"Yes, Mistress."

"You have a task today."

"Yes, Mistress."

"You will make an announcement for me."

"Yes, Mistress."

That was the only thing that she could think to say for the elf. What was the task? It didn't matter. She wore the pendant, and she would do as she was instructed. That was all that she could do.

She was led on the chain as if it was a leash, something that didn't escape her even in that fog-brained state that she was in. If she was leashed, did that mean that she was -

Collar.

The black leather loomed, and the pendant warmed in warning. She pushed the thought away, desperately fleeing from it in her mind. It was shoved in the corner, left there to rot for the moment as she focused on the current, the present. She was being led through the corridors of the temple, but going higher and higher. That meant that they...yes, they were going to the balcony that oversaw the village, a place where the priests would give speeches to those that gathered to listen.

Was she going to give a speech? No, the mistress had said that she needed to give an announcement. But about what?

The mistress would tell her, she knew. The mistress always told her what to do.

As they walked along, she saw that there had been some changes made. It took a while for just what they were to push into her fogged-up brain, but when they did, they were undeniable.

Red stripes marked the cheeks and shoulders of those that walked the temple. The robes that had ranged from conservative to rather showy had been restrained, the flowing garb of the temple followers pulled in and made reserved. It was no more like a dress or a gown for the women, but rather more like armor. The men wore actual armor, thick cloth that had been stuffed and fluffed until it was stiff and firm.

There was no more feeling of peace in the temple. It felt like they were getting ready for war.

They reached the balcony, and Hazel was pushed back into a squat. The restraints that held her legs together were undone, and she was allowed to stand. The half-elf did as she was told, shivering as she was reminded by the blustering wind that she was naked in public. She didn't know what was going on, but she felt the tips of her nipples hardening, and her pussy clenched hard against the cold, trying to bring more heat to bear.

"Stand still."

The mistress's command made her do just that, her hands at her side and her eyes facing forward. The elf's eyes flicked up and down her body, and she could see just the slightest hint of some excitement in the other woman's expression. More than that, she could smell something, something different, something thicker.

Yes, there was interest. Excitement. The mistress would want attention later.

"Step forward."

She did, moving right up to the balcony. The mistress pushed her against it, squishing her swollen canine pussy against the railing to the point of some discomfort. She hissed softly, but the pleasure and the pain mixed together to form something rather different, something rather pleasant in its own way.

"Look down."

Hazel glanced towards the world below. Some of the older men of the village had come, as had some of the paladins. A lot of the paladins, for that matter, outnumbering those that had come from the village. They formed a barrier between the humans and elves of the village and the orange-skinned warriors that had started coming down from the trees. The hobgoblins had come.

"You see them?"

"Yes, Mistress," Hazel said.

"They are no longer welcome here."

"Yes, Mistress."

"You will tell them to leave. But you will do this in this way."

"I am listening, Mistress."

"Tell them that they are to leave in twenty-four hours, and that they are to return the collared slaves that they have taken from the village. If they do not, they will be burned and put to the sword. This is the will of Erastil."

"Yes, Mistress."

That was a tall order, but it was the command of the mistress and the high priestess. What else was she to do? Hazel took a deep breath -

And then she saw him. Pushing through the ranks of the other hobgoblins was a male that stood head and shoulders above the others. She saw his scars, the slight indentations of his tusks, the rough arms and thick muscle that she remembered. The image of the orange-skinned warrior in the back of her foggy mind came back, and she knew that she knew him.

Vakrozad.

The name hurt her almost as much as the image of the collar did, but it brought comfort with it, enough to keep her from flinching away. She stared down at him, unable to change her expression of disdain but for some reason wishing that she could. He stared up at her in return, his eyes narrowed.

The mistress pushed her, and she knew that she had to speak. Hazel cleared her throat.

"The temple of Erastil has made its decision. The hobgoblins will leave the village and the forest within twenty-four hours or face destruction."

The villagers cheered at that, but the hobgoblins stared up at her with eyes that were bugging out of their sockets. They looked at her as if she was supposed to be on their side. Why would they believe that, she wondered? She would never be on the side of monsters.

Another image tried to creep into her head, another picture. She had a hint of a black-furred animal in her mind, something that breathed fire and hunted with the best of the wolves, but it was gone too quickly for her to see it properly. She shook her head and continued.

"The paladins of the temple will hunt any that resist this order. Any that seek to leave with their ill-gotten slaves will be hunted down and destroyed. All those that have been collared must be returned to the village before the end of the day, or all hobgoblins will be hunted and destroyed, regardless of whether they left.

"This is the will of Erastil, and it will not be denied."

The words came to her mouth with ease, but there was something about them that hurt her mouth. It made her feel bitter, horrible, like she was nothing but a puppet. It almost felt like someone was forcing a hand in her mouth, making her jaw move when it would normally be still and silent.

Her words were enough to embolden the villagers, however, who cheered at the announcement. They started shouting at the hobgoblins, calling them monsters, telling them to run while the getting was good. Some of them shouted at the paladins, telling them to kill the 'beasts' while they were here, helpless. Still others were crying out for the return of daughters - and even sons - that had been taken from them, calling the hobgoblins kidnappers and monsters of the worst sort.

Through it all, the orange-skinned warriors looked at their tormentors with narrowed eyes, but they didn't draw weapons, nor did they lunge forward. They just stared. It was more than she would have credited them with being able to do, honestly.

She looked back at Vakrozad. His eyes could have wandered up and down her body, looking at her bare breasts, staring at her like the lustful beast that she vaguely remembered him being, but instead, he just stared at her. There was something in that stare, something that was soft, something that was almost gentle.

Something that understood something that she did not.

What do you see? she wondered, until the fog smothered that thought, too.

"Come."

The leash pulled at her, and she fell backwards. Literally, in this case, falling backwards and barely catching herself as she went to all fours again. She stared straight ahead, looking at the elf woman that had taken ownership of her. The high priest looked down at the crowd, and she could only imagine the way that she looked at the hobgoblins.

"You've had your warning. Run, then. Run and give us back that which you've stolen. You have one day."

With that, the older elf pulled her along, the click, click, click of Aster's hooves all that was heard as soon as they entered the temple again. The furor of the crowd was gone, smothered by the wood and leaves around them.

"Good girl," the mistress said, and Hazel glowed at the praise.

She was led, not back to the cell, but to the mistress's chambers. They walked inside, and the mistress took the chain from her neck. The pendant remained, but the leash was no longer there. She was allowed to squat without being restrained for the first time in...days? Maybe more. She didn't know. Time was weird, now.

The mistress's chambers were different to the other rooms in the temple. They were large, for one, large enough to house a miniature library along the walls, and with a desk on one side. The bed was at the far end, just large enough for two people if they were willing to cram themselves in right next to each other. At the foot of the bed was a chest, one that the elf was currently in the process of moving.

Apart from its size, there was also a feeling of...purity, for lack of a better word, that emanated from the walls themselves. It felt like a sun's light pouring down on her.

It was nice.

Aster Oakhoof sat down on the bed, extending one of her hooves forward. It was not so low that it was meant to be a tease for her, nor was it so high that it was meant to be licked immediately. Hazel crawled forward, remaining on all fours like a good girl, waiting for the proper command. As she moved closer, the hoof slipped between her breasts, and Mistress Aster made no move to take it away. She stopped at the elf's feet, looking up at her.

"What do you want, Mistress?" she asked.

"I want you to tell me something."

"What, Mistress?"

"Do you want this?"

"What, Mistress?"

"This life. This life of service. This life of proper obedience to Erastil and his priests and priestesses. Or is there a corruption in you that you're hiding from me?"

There was something to the way that the elf asked that question that left Hazel rather confused. Had she been anything but obedient since she had been pulled into service? Anything but loyal? She didn't think that she had failed at any particular task, but perhaps she had been mistaken.

Of course, there was that bubbling corruption inside of her, still, but that was minor. The pendant kept that bubbling heat at bay, keeping her from being consumed by it. There was no hidden corruption, nothing that the hooved priestess didn't know about. Hazel bowed her head over the extended leg, kissing it just where hoof met flesh.

"I am happy, Mistress."

"Truly?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Then the treatment is working."

"Treatment?"

"It's nothing that you need to worry about. But...I am glad." The elf smiled. "I'm glad that there was some way to arrest your fall."

"My...fall?"

Hazel cocked her head to the side, little images trying to get through the fog. The pendant warmed as Mistress Aster looked down at her, and the elf shook her head.

"Forget that I said that. It's clear that the treatment isn't done. Perhaps it truly won't be without awakening him properly, but...at least you can be held safe until then. The huntress won't claim another priest."

"M-Mistress?"

"Forget it," the elf said, ordered, even, and she was forced to do just that. She lowered her head, and the memory of that was already fading.

She knelt there for a time longer, groaning under her breath as she felt something else trying to take the place of the fog. There was something heated, yes, but something else besides that. Something that was turning the soft, gentle emptiness around her warm with oranges and red. Something that made her cheeks burn, something that made her all the wetter between her legs. It was...it was...

"Hazel."

The half-elf looked up, panting softly, trying to think through the building heat under her. It was so...so powerful, and it made her feel so empty. Mistress Aster shook her head.

"You are in the grips of it again, aren't you?"

"I...I hunger, Mistress."

"What do you hunger for?"

"You...please..."

There was a strange unison there, something that pushed from both the fog and the heat under it. A hunger for the elf before her, one part that wanted to be of service, and the other part that desperately wanted to consume. She didn't understand, but she knew that both of them wanted her to do the same thing.

Bowing her head over the hoof against her chest, she gently lifted it and kissed the tip. The narrow hoof was easy to lick, and easier still to slide between her lips, caressing it with her tongue, cleaning it gently. Aster shivered slightly, the mistress looking down at her with a face that was just starting to redden. The smell that she had noticed on the balcony was stronger now, and she knew that the other woman was feeling more wanting than before.

She stroked the leg, but did not do more without invitation. She was the servant, the slave, even, and Aster was the one that called the shots. She sucked along the end of the hoof the way that another might have suckled along a male's shaft, giving it the attention that she could, cleaning it of the day's debris.

It didn't take long for the other to rest on her thighs, and when she was done cleaning the first, she started on the second. Mistress Aster hissed softly, reaching down and pulling at the edge of her skirt, slowly pulling it up and out of the way of her thighs. Despite her age, she was smooth down there, likely the result of being an elf. Hazel could see the juices that were starting to roll down, but the further up they went, the more that the smooth flesh was challenged, until they reached the thighs just bordering the other woman's panties.

There, red lines adorned her, deep red, slashes and slaps and welts from all sorts of torture implements. The other woman had battered herself horribly, punishing herself, perhaps even trying to drive the heat from herself in the last day or so. It didn't look like it had done anything good for her, and she looked like she had been hurt badly in some cases.

Without even thinking, Hazel reached out. The power of god and demon lord, both upon her at this point, was channeled through her hands.

The wounds closed, but Aster's sex burned all the hotter. The panties soaked through, and the elf gasped at the thought. One hoof came up, hitting her right in the forehead and shoving her backwards. She fell hard, nearly cracking her head against the floor.

"What do you think you're doing?!"

"You...you were hurt, mistress."

"I hurt myself deliberately. Do not do that again. Do not."

"I...I was just trying to help."

"You channel magics that you shouldn't."

"What? What do you mean?"

"I mean that you will not do that again. No magic. None."

"...But..."

"You will leave the healing to me. You will...you will not..."

The elf huffed, hissing to herself, gritting her teeth and sounding all too close to being a tea kettle. She gripped the bed, her thighs coming together and grinding against one another. The elf breathed out slowly, her nostrils flaring, and the stink of a woman in heat filled the air. Her sensitive nose understood it better than a human or elf nose ever could.

She breathed it in and she knew just what the other woman needed. Slowly, Hazel got on her knees, offering her mouth and her tongue. The latter lolled out like a dog's tongue, longer than it should be, barely fitting in her mouth these days. Mistress Aster gave it one look and shivered.

"I shouldn't..."

"..."

"...Come."

The elf's fingers snapped, and Hazel came as she was bid, sliding between the other woman's thighs. As the mistress pulled her panties to the side, exposing herself, the full force of the smell hidden behind them came loose. It was not just the smell of a woman in heat, but a woman in a bitch-heat, someone that craved to be fucked, bred, filled to the brim with the seed of a worthy male. The fact that the mistress remained on her bed rather than seeking one out was a testament to her willpower.

Hazel leaned in, slowly dragging her longer tongue against one thigh, then the other. Her gentle licks made that slippery slit clench, and there were several droplets that were let loose, flying out and dampening her cheeks. She licked them clean, then went back to licking the flesh proper, tasting the clit throbbing just over the hole, and then sliding her tongue against the space between the outer lips.

Mistress Aster was soaked, completely soaked, and every lick made it worse for her. She could tell that the older woman could barely hold it back, that there was every instinct in her to enjoy this, to embrace the pleasure and go with it. Yet, Mistress Aster held back. She held the sheets in tight grips, barely managed to keep from grinding forward, and her teeth were clenched so tightly it was a miracle that she wasn't hearing them crack.

The half-elf kept licking, drawing her tongue over that increasingly wet slit, making sure to 'clean' it every time that she licked from the base to the clit, wicking away the juices that had formed on the outside. Every lick was more of a tease, though, and she knew that there would not be true pleasure until she thrust it inside.

She reached up slowly, taking her time, making sure that the mistress wouldn't be offended as she dragged her hands along those slender legs. She gently pushed them further apart, helping to spread those lips a little further in the process. Another lick, and then another, tasting those fluids and drowning in their musk.

A little more, and her tongue was pressing in just a bit. Mistress Aster gasped, and she pushed it further, licking into the older woman.

"Ah!"

The elf suddenly arched her back, leaning her head back and thrusting her hips forward. She ground herself against Hazel's tongue, suddenly in the grips of a passion that she doubtlessly had never felt. Hazel rode it out, licking and serving both the needs within her, both of the needs that she had been given.

With each lick, Mistress Aster was obviously getting closer and closer to orgasm, and it was clear that she was trying to hold back. Hazel didn't understand why, but she did understand that the mistress needed to cum, and she wasn't getting any orders to stop. So, instead, she ramped it up.

She leaned in close, kissing the mistress's slit, and she shoved her tongue in. Each little thrust of her tongue went deeper, a tongue-fuck with a dog tongue that had all the direction of an experienced half-elf slut behind it. Lick, thrust, lick, thrust, her teeth grinding on the other woman's clit, pushing it, teasing it, forcing it to feel the excitement and pleasure that came from another person's touch.

Mistress Aster gasped, shivered, her legs trembling. She opened her mouth to say something, but the words didn't come, not even to Hazel's sensitive ears. All that she could do was pant, moan, and shiver.

Hazel pulled her arms down, licking and swirling her tongue around inside of the other woman, teasing her right to the edge. She could feel the spasming inside, the clenching, the desperate pulling of someone that hadn't gotten off this way in years, and then -

"NNNNNGH!"

Mistress Aster arched her back, her pussy clenching down hard. Her legs came up and around, grabbing Hazel's head and pinning it between her thighs. Shaking, trembling spasms consumed the older woman, leaving her flopped out on the bed shortly after. Her thighs, however, hadn't released Hazel's head, and the half-elf took that as permission and encouragement to keep going.

So, she did.

It took them hours to disentangle themselves, and when they did, Mistress Aster was not best pleased. She wasn't angry, but she wasn't pleased, either.

"You shouldn't have pushed it that far, Hazel."

"I'm sorry, Mistress."

"I needed...relief...but you didn't need to go that far."

"I'm sorry, Mistress."

"On the bed."

"Yes, Mistress."

She got up on the bed, spreading her arms over her head as she was ordered. In short order, her arms were tied to the head of the bed, and her ankles were tied over the foot of it. Ropes were spread over the mattress and under the bed, keeping her spread-eagle, keeping her pussy pointing down so that it was pressed against the blankets rather than exposed. Her ass cheeks trembled as she felt the flogger come out again.

"This is obviously something consuming you, Hazel."

"I'm sorry, Mistress."

"You will learn to control yourself."

"I'm sorry, Mistress."

"This is not your fault, but you must be educated."

"Yes, Mistress."

"Now, take your punishment."

CRACK!

The first blow came down across her ass, and she hissed at the sudden heat that followed, the pain that ran through her lower body. Her cheeks clenched together, which made the second blow that much worse as the flogger beat across her other cheek.

CRACK!

She gasped for breath, hissing as she lowered her head against the bed. With each blow, the pendant struggled to keep the fog going, and the bubbling heat just below it, that strange, second source of power, direction, need, was getting stronger. It was almost like the anger and the frustration that the fog tried to put down was getting fed by the other, and the fog couldn't fight both the bubbling heat and her anger at the same time.

This isn't fair...

The words came to her quietly, from somewhere deep within the fog. It tried to shut her down, but it was still there.

This isn't fair. I did what she asked. She can't be angry when I did the thing that she told me to do. I can't just...I can't...

The corruption. That's what was under the fog. Corruption. Demon corruption. No. Demon Lord corruption.

Melchiresa's corruption.

A bit of memory forced itself through the fog. She had been possessed by the Demon Lord, something that few others had gone through. That would have left something behind, something that was more than just the changes she had gone through. The bubbling corruption deep inside, the power of the Demon Lord, was fighting to stay there against the pulsing presence of the pendant. It was burning the fog away anytime it came close. The most that could be done to it was isolate it, but when she was in pain, or angry, or both, then the fog started to clear, and it started to come out.

Another crack across her ass, and the bubbling, boiling anger pushed at the corruption again. She...she remembered. She remembered what she had done, what she had said at the balcony, and what she had done with Tristan. She remembered what she was supposed to do.

And she remembered what she had seen in the book when Aster made her read it.

The two went in, rutted, and made their decision. Melchiresa left, Erastil stayed. He wanted to stay for love. What was there to love in there? Why wouldn't he help us, help all of us?

Another blow, and she was forced to focus on her body again. Pain and anger could only break the fog so much, and it hurt, it hurt too much to just think through it. She needed to fall away again, and that was something that the fog was good for. Hazel tried to tell herself that she would remember, but she honestly wasn't sure if she was lying to herself or not at that point. Memory, it seemed, was a very slippery thing.

Outside the temple, Vakrozad had seen all that he needed to see. He fiddled with a blade that one of the warriors had brought from the camp, grinding a whetstone down the length of it as the others argued.

"She's just like them."

"Knew we couldn't trust the priests."

"We should just go. Not like they can track us through the forest."

"Get while the getting is -"

"We're not going."

Vakrozad's simple statement cut through the grumbling, and his four warriors turned to face him. He stroked the stone down the blade one more time before putting it back into its pouch and sheathing the weapon.

"We're not going. That? That wasn't Hazel. The guard dog doesn't just roll over and whimper for the other priests, let me tell you that much. I saw her fire. I saw what she could do with Tristan and the others. I know the real Hazel, and what you saw on the balcony? That wasn't her. That was someone else making her talk.

"But if the priests want to try and tell us what to do, they have another thing coming. We're storming the temple. Tonight."

That was all that he needed to say. The grins were already growing on his men, and he knew that most of them were eager for a fight, anyway. There was only so much steam they could blow off while fucking, and while there were plenty of eager women in this little village, all of them willing to bend over for a little boar dick once they got the ritual going, they needed something...better. More stirring. More dangerous.

As for himself, he had been on good behavior ever since his arrival. Oh, sure he'd been a little more brazen than he might have been, a little blunter than some people would have liked, but he hadn't started any fights. He had gone out of his way to make sure that his people were more peaceful than they naturally were. After all, he wanted this to work as much as anyone else did, but if they wanted to change the fucking rules, then there was no reason to play the nice guy anymore.

Besides, Hazel didn't seem to like nice guys. If she wanted an asshole...well, he didn't mind playing that role.

The End

Summary: Hazel falls further, with a brief moment of clarity, under the spell of Aster Oakhoof. A pity for her, really.

Tags: F/F, F/solo, nudity, exhibitionism, oral, cunnilingus, hoof worship, half-elf, elf, hobgoblin, speech, mind control, body control, punishment, wet, musk, leash, collar, series, fantasy,