Day 15 Ritual

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#15 of Kinktober 2023

Content Warnings: Betrayal adjacent. Kidnapping, and dire peril including breath peril/hanging. WIth a grim potential for perma-bindings.

The keyword that inspired this entry and all those that follow were taken from pyperhaylie's kinktober listThis story features a crazed group using unwitting sacrifices for power.today's special guest: puddinpop34 

Word Count: 1463

"There you are! You're late, I thought you'd skipped out on me." The racoon woman Clarie said with a smile as she let the canine Gizmo into her house. 

"I know, I know, I'm sorry, I got held up and then there were roadworks and traffic." He replied apologetically. 

"Silly, that just means we're on a harsh deadline. Come in." She said, waving him closer. 

Gizmo's brow quirked at that. "Deadline, we're just hanging out, right?" 

"Ahaha, sorry cutie, there's been a change of plans." She said as she shut the door behind her, latching it so it locked. On cue several strangers, all women, stepped out into view. "Well, the only real change is I don't have time to drug you." 

The canine's face fell as the figures mobbed him. In minutes the dog was subdued on the ground, a cloth stuffed and tied within his mouth, ropes spread clumsily but securely to hold him. "Mmmh, mmmmhh!"" He squealed in a mix of anger and despair. 

A light rapping knock came at the door behind Clarie who froze and turned to open it, a tall, older ferret woman stepped in without a word, looking down at Clarie and then Gizmo. "Well done, you've made a wise choice indeed."

"Thank you, Matron Diana." She replied with a bob. "What are your orders?" 

Gizmo didn't understand, who were these people that seemed connected to Clarie, what was going on?!

Diana shook her head. "No, this is your show, you need to prove yourself." 

Clarie nodded, she leant down, rubbing her hands close to Gizmo's waist as she dug into his pockets, plucked out his car keys and threw it to one of the women. "Take it and do something with it so he won't be found. Burn it if you can." 

Burn it?! Gizmo whimpered, that was an extreme measure which meant this wasn't some small meeting with a friend like he thought it was. "The rest of you, grab him and let's get going." 

Diana nodded, following behind, playing as a spectator it seemed. 

As Gizmo squirmed they brought out a large suitcase, wheeling it over and setting it down beside him. "In you go." Said one of them as they grabbed a handful of rope and his shirt, throwing him into it. Trapped in the dark case Gizmo squirmed and struggled for dear life, knocking the zipper open a little only to have it rudely wrenched back shut, his captors had their eye on him, his case placed between the seats of the vehicle they were in. 

It bumped against the ground as they dragged the dog out, the wheels rattling as he was transported elsewhere, feeling jolts as they carried it down steps and then down ramps. 

He was turned out from it onto a bare concrete floor, but before he could get his bearings hands grabbed his shoulders and hoisted him up awkwardly to a stand. He balanced precariously on his toes, legs lashed tightly together as they seized the scruff of his shirt, removing the collar he wore for vanity and replacing it with a steel shackle, chained to the ceiling. 

A pair of shears were brought out for the ropes and his clothing, sawing through near his arms. The strangers were quick to pull out a thick steel band, wide and solid. They pushed one of his arms into place then forced his other arm to join it before clapping it shut. Binding his forearms to each other, crossed behind his back. A short chain connected it to the back of the collar and the swinging weight of another metal lump kicked the back of his leg, hinting what was coming.

"Mmmh, nnhhh, lmhh ghh!" He demanded.

"Quiet, boy!" A skunk woman who visually bridged the gap between the older Diana and the younger twenty-something Clarie, like Gizmo himself. 

The shears clipped through his clothing shredding it and the ropes. Shackled as he was, he was just barely connected to the floor, any kick he could try was weak and pointless due to the lack of firm footing. 

A heavy catch was hooked over the closing point of the arm shackle, securing it in place beyond where his fingers could hope to reach, nevermind disconnect it. 

As he hung there, stuck with them stripping him down he thought he heard the muffled groans and gasps of others behind him yet he had no chance to see what it might mean. 

Clarie crossed in front, a hand cradling his chin before she turned and gave a forward and unexpected full lipped kiss that felt wrong. The confusion and fear in Gizmo's eyes was plain as she casually turned away. "Now get his legs, I have to make preparations." 

"Mmmhh!" He groaned, squirming as hands held his elbows to bear his weight whilst others lifted his legs off the floor. The third metal shackle awaited, snapping over the ankles, pinning them, the chain that ran from neck to arm also connected to that restraint. It left him hanging in the air with an uncomfortable amount of pressure at his neck, requiring him to strain to keep breathing. 

With him secured they brought the shears up to the cloth over his mouth, giving him enough space to spit out the bundle between his teeth. "Wh-ughhk, what's going on? Let me go!" He pleaded, legs trying to find a point of balance. "Clarie, where are you? Get me down!" 

The struggles set him swinging a little, the chain twisting around. He turned his head as he moved, eyes growing wide as he saw shapes behind him, some of them letting out muffled noises, others hanging still as though they'd given up, and others worryingly motionless.  They were other furs just like him, yet with two massive differences, the first being that their chains were ringed with light, as though engraved on in a glowing paint, each a different colour. The other more glaring difference was the inky blackness that shrouded their forms, covering them from head to toe, hiding the definition in their bodies. "Ghh, p-please, what's wrong with them? What's happening?"

He heard something from the other side, snapping his head back, Clarie was calling out loudly, shouting words in a language that didn't sound like anything he knew. He felt a tickle from the shackles, a creeping feeling progressed as she carried out some profane ritual. 

The spreading blackness pressed over his fur, fusing his arms closer together, up his legs over his heels it kept moving. "Clarie! Stop this! What's going on, what are you doing?

Around him those who had aided in his capture just watched passively, the mid-aged skunk whispered into Diana's ear. She barely seemed to reply at first, just watching Gizmo as the mass crawled over him. After a few more seconds her head nodded. 

The skunk took up a place beside Gizmo, just shy of touching him, as if she wanted to get close but refused to make contact with the spreading black, perhaps it was contagious. "Your friend sold you for power, little sacrifice. She wishes to join us in sorority, and you are her source, you'll be the font of her power. Like each of those behind you."

Diana said something in that other language, gesturing with her hand, a dim light sprang from the cuffs as they were suddenly inlaid and coloured in a dull purple tint that matched some of Gizmo's fur. The aged woman stepped away, walking to where Clarie was. All the other women followed behind her, stepping away calmly as if they were leaving a most mundane scene.

The skunk stayed for a bit, her hand flicking Gizmo's belly before it was challenged by the swarming spread. "I like it when the victim's have a choice. If you survive until the layer is complete, it will seal forever, but it will hold you alive and well. Your own energy will fuel the magics that will sustain you. If that sounds like a terrible fate, give up. Though, if you do survive she will still get far more power from you, so... try to hang in there, for the sake of a friend?" 

Gizmo groaned and shook his head, he was struggling to talk back, the creeping binding wave was making it harder for him to struggle and thus harder to get in the position to breathe. 

With wide eyes, he squirmed as the skunk drifted away with a chuckle. 

His options seemed bleak, regardless of what he picked, and given how many others lay squirming behind him, even if he held on, his chances of freedom were dismal. He didn't know why he'd been singled out, and now, he doubted he'd ever get the chance to ask.

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"There you are! You're late, I thought you'd skipped out on me." The racoon woman Clarie said with a smile as she let the canine Gizmo into her house.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry, I got held up and then there were roadworks and traffic." He replied apologetically.

"Silly, that just means we're on a harsh deadline. Come in." She said, waving him closer.

Gizmo's brow quirked at that. "Deadline, we're just hanging out, right?"

"Ahaha, sorry cutie, there's been a change of plans." She said as she shut the door behind her, latching it so it locked. On cue several strangers, all women, stepped out into view. "Well, the only real change is I don't have time to drug you."

The canine's face fell as the figures mobbed him. In minutes the dog was subdued on the ground, a cloth stuffed and tied within his mouth, ropes spread clumsily but securely to hold him. "Mmmh, mmmmhh!"" He squealed in a mix of anger and despair.

A light rapping knock came at the door behind Clarie who froze and turned to open it, a tall, older ferret woman stepped in without a word, looking down at Clarie and then Gizmo. "Well done, you've made a wise choice indeed."

"Thank you, Matron Diana." She replied with a bob. "What are your orders?"

Gizmo didn't understand, who were these people that seemed connected to Clarie, what was going on?!

Diana shook her head. "No, this is your show, you need to prove yourself."

Clarie nodded, she leant down, rubbing her hands close to Gizmo's waist as she dug into his pockets, plucked out his car keys and threw it to one of the women. "Take it and do something with it so he won't be found. Burn it if you can."

Burn it?! Gizmo whimpered, that was an extreme measure which meant this wasn't some small meeting with a friend like he thought it was. "The rest of you, grab him and let's get going."

Diana nodded, following behind, playing as a spectator it seemed.

As Gizmo squirmed they brought out a large suitcase, wheeling it over and setting it down beside him. "In you go." Said one of them as they grabbed a handful of rope and his shirt, throwing him into it.

Trapped in the dark case Gizmo squirmed and struggled for dear life, knocking the zipper open a little only to have it rudely wrenched back shut, his captors had their eye on him, his case placed between the seats of the vehicle they were in.

It bumped against the ground as they dragged the dog out, the wheels rattling as he was transported elsewhere, feeling jolts as they carried it down steps and then down ramps.

He was turned out from it onto a bare concrete floor, but before he could get his bearings hands grabbed his shoulders and hoisted him up awkwardly to a stand. He balanced precariously on his toes, legs lashed tightly together as they seized the scruff of his shirt, removing the collar he wore for vanity and replacing it with a steel shackle, chained to the ceiling.

A pair of shears were brought out for the ropes and his clothing, sawing through near his arms. The strangers were quick to pull out a thick steel band, wide and solid. They pushed one of his arms into place then forced his other arm to join it before clapping it shut. Binding his forearms to each other, crossed behind his back. A short chain connected it to the back of the collar and the swinging weight of another metal lump kicked the back of his leg, hinting what was coming.

"Mmmh, nnhhh, lmhh ghh!" He demanded.

"Quiet, boy!" A skunk woman who visually bridged the gap between the older Diana and the younger twenty-something Clarie, like Gizmo himself.

The shears clipped through his clothing shredding it and the ropes. Shackled as he was, he was just barely connected to the floor, any kick he could try was weak and pointless due to the lack of firm footing.

A heavy catch was hooked over the closing point of the arm shackle, securing it in place beyond where his fingers could hope to reach, nevermind disconnect it.

As he hung there, stuck with them stripping him down he thought he heard the muffled groans and gasps of others behind him yet he had no chance to see what it might mean.

Clarie crossed in front, a hand cradling his chin before she turned and gave a forward and unexpected full lipped kiss that felt wrong. The confusion and fear in Gizmo's eyes was plain as she casually turned away. "Now get his legs, I have to make preparations."

"Mmmhh!" He groaned, squirming as hands held his elbows to bear his weight whilst others lifted his legs off the floor. The third metal shackle awaited, snapping over the ankles, pinning them, the chain that ran from neck to arm also connected to that restraint. It left him hanging in the air with an uncomfortable amount of pressure at his neck, requiring him to strain to keep breathing.

With him secured they brought the shears up to the cloth over his mouth, giving him enough space to spit out the bundle between his teeth. "Wh-ughhk, what's going on? Let me go!" He pleaded, legs trying to find a point of balance. "Clarie, where are you? Get me down!"

The struggles set him swinging a little, the chain twisting around. He turned his head as he moved, eyes growing wide as he saw shapes behind him, some of them letting out muffled noises, others hanging still as though they'd given up, and others worryingly motionless. They were other furs just like him, yet with two massive differences, the first being that their chains were ringed with light, as though engraved on in a glowing paint, each a different colour. The other more glaring difference was the inky blackness that shrouded their forms, covering them from head to toe, hiding the definition in their bodies. "Ghh, p-please, what's wrong with them? What's happening?"

He heard something from the other side, snapping his head back, Clarie was calling out loudly, shouting words in a language that didn't sound like anything he knew. He felt a tickle from the shackles, a creeping feeling progressed as she carried out some profane ritual.

The spreading blackness pressed over his fur, fusing his arms closer together, up his legs over his heels it kept moving. "Clarie! Stop this! What's going on, what are you doing?

Around him those who had aided in his capture just watched passively, the mid-aged skunk whispered into Diana's ear. She barely seemed to reply at first, just watching Gizmo as the mass crawled over him. After a few more seconds her head nodded.

The skunk took up a place beside Gizmo, just shy of touching him, as if she wanted to get close but refused to make contact with the spreading black, perhaps it was contagious. "Your friend sold you for power, little sacrifice. She wishes to join us in sorority, and you are her source, you'll be the font of her power. Like each of those behind you."

Diana said something in that other language, gesturing with her hand, a dim light sprang from the cuffs as they were suddenly inlaid and coloured in a dull purple tint that matched some of Gizmo's fur. The aged woman stepped away, walking to where Clarie was. All the other women followed behind her, stepping away calmly as if they were leaving a most mundane scene.

The skunk stayed for a bit, her hand flicking Gizmo's belly before it was challenged by the swarming spread. "I like it when the victim's have a choice. If you survive until the layer is complete, it will seal forever, but it will hold you alive and well. Your own energy will fuel the magics that will sustain you. If that sounds like a terrible fate, give up. Though, if you do survive she will still get far more power from you, so... try to hang in there, for the sake of a friend?"

Gizmo groaned and shook his head, he was struggling to talk back, the creeping binding wave was making it harder for him to struggle and thus harder to get in the position to breathe.

With wide eyes, he squirmed as the skunk drifted away with a chuckle.

His options seemed bleak, regardless of what he picked, and given how many others lay squirming behind him, even if he held on, his chances of freedom were dismal. He didn't know why he'd been singled out, and now, he doubted he'd ever get the chance to ask.