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"Brother Morits, dispose of this filth!!"

"Yes Father Folly."

"And clean up this mess! My friends are coming over for a poker game tonight!"

"Yes Father Folly...."

"And don't forget to read your scriptures tonight. You've been slacking on keeping me up to date."

Before he could say it, the door slammed shut, leaving the young ram alone in the office. He sighed heavily, then began moving about, picking up the trash that was strewn throughout the room from the revelry the night before. He had worked for a few months in the capacity of handyman, a job he hated, but one which helped to pay the bills for the wealthy abbot who ran the temple that he was currently staying at. A wanderer by nature, Mortis was anything but typical of his type. Normally his species was well built and stout. He was taller, standing at six-five, slender and willowy in build. A lover of poetry rather than drink, prefering to stay home and study up on anything that struck his fancy at the moment. The reason for his current predicament was the lost of a dear friend he was staying with. He took a moment to gaze at the various portraits of "demons" that lined the office, and allowed his gaze to fall upon lust.

The image was certainly a depiction of the emotion. A overly busty female with demonic wings, horn, and a tail that ended in a thick spade, perfect for paddling ones posterior. He smiled sadly at her, though the bust was too much, the spicy look of her face reminded him of his mistress. A demon herself, he stayed with her for months on end, acting in the sense of her house lamb and pet. He loved her touch, her smile, how she would tan his hide a bright cherry and force him to walk shackled, carrying platters in both hands and on his head full of spirits and hourdeuves. How she would tease him for hours, leaving him whining and baaing, only to strangle the orgasm when it happened, ruining it, causing him to lay there panting and messy. And yet even despite all that, he remembered the days that they lived like roomies, sharing stories and a home, though never a bed. He smiled at the times they laughed, cried together, and watched their fel pets growl and snarl at one another in play before coming upon them snuggled together in the laundry basket. HIs mind wandered through these thoughts of the past while he worked, kneeling down to scrub a spot, his gaze falling upon what his "superior" wished for him to dispose of.

IT was a thick, rubber sheet, one that had been raided from her apartment when the religious zealots were stirred into a fevor by their leader, his boss. He had been sent away by her a week prior. Tears formed at the corner of his eyes while he stepped up, rubbing his hand along the sheet. The slickness, even in the fire when the mob burned the apartment with a mystical charm bestowed on them by the warlock who was the head of this temple of purity, was the same he remembered. It still showed and gleamed, even in the absymal lighting of the office, and touching it, he squirmed involuntarily at the memories that came flooding back. He scowled darkly, wanting to get revenge for his friend at this warlock posing for the papers that he was a man who was "cleansing the filth of lust". He did his research, knowing that this group, save those who were too blind to see it in the congregation, were a vicious group of hate posing under a faux religion. He tried to get the word out, but their grasp in this territory were too strong, having several high officials for part of their flock. Now he could do little but work for them in order to survive. He squirreled away the little spending money that he got weekly for an allowance, and soon was planning to skip town before they found who was the pet of his mistress. A fact that would not sit well for him.

Quickly finishing up his chores, he tucked the sheet under his arm, and disappeared from the temple. The gravel beneath his feet crunched while he made his way to his quarters, locking the heavy bolt behind him. Thankful for the solitude here, he unraveled the sheet and with a quick flick, laid it atop his bed. Taking time to make sure it was perfectly smooth like his mistress would have wanted, he then laid atop it, face down. Shutting his eyes, he drew a deep breath, allowing the scent of latex to fill his nostrils. It still made his head swim, especially realizing that it lingered with the perfume his mistress wore every time they played, that sultry mixture of spice and sweet. He moaned, feeling himself grow hard, his hands voluntarily moving to the small of his back, crossed at the wrist like he was trained to do. Even without a mistress, he opted to hold onto his training out of respect for her. Giving a heavy, whimpering sigh, he sat upright and peeled off his clothing. His milky-white wool was softer than cotton thanks to her teaching him how to make it so, and the nails of his hands and toes were well trimmed. His body was lean, and the ram horns circled his ears were scrubbed free of any debris from shedding through the winter they were now moving into. Even his teeth were a glimmer of perfection. Yet looking down at his modest length, he smiled, idly poking it, a nearly invisible drop of pre slowly oozing out of it onto the sheet. Whining once more in both lust and loneliness, he shut his eyes and lifted his hands, rubbing his tender chest, scooting back and forth upon the slick material, his puffy tail quivering in delight. It felt like the sheet was cradling his rump, teasing it, fondling it, touching a slender tongue to his anus.

Wait. Cradling? Rimming? Surely he couldn't be feeling what he could be. But he was, and looking back, he saw the sheet glowed with an unholy color, like black light. Mortis yowled in alarm, leaping off the sheet and almost sprinting across the room to the far wall. The thump of his body caused the door to shake, and he turned to see the sheet starting to rise. No, not the sheet itself. Something was rising from it. Heart beating in his ears, he covered his eyes and dove to the floor in a fetal position, trying to block out the inhuman slurping the sheet gave while the creature rose from it. He baa'ed in alarm when it finally stopped, then heard silence. Curious to what was now in the room with him, he parted his fingers to afford himself a glance, then sat upright like a steel rod was shoved into his spine. The figure that sat on the bed was lovingly thick, shapely with strong thighs and a soft bossom. Her long tail woven itself into simple patterns behind her, and the outfit she wore, a dom's garb of latex gloves, thigh-high boots and corset were all he needed to know. The ram quickly lunged forward, skidding across the carpet and ignoring the rug burns to his knees. He bowed his head when the woman turned her gaze to him, silent.

"M-Mistress...! You're not dead!"

The demoness laughed softly, moving a hand over to gently run her fingers through his wool. She glanced around the room, disgust evident on her features. Taking one of his horns in hand, she slammed him to the floor, then pressed a boot into his head, arms folded and tail lashing about.

"You...idiot! You went to work for these crazies?! After all I did for you!?! After I took you in, trained you, gave you purpose, you chose to join a cult who hates us!!!!" She slide the boot down his skull, scraping it along his neck and then pressing it hard into his back, forcing him to whimper. He prostrate himself to her, relief mixing with the worry in his voice.

"F-forgive me mistress..! I thought you were dead! They burnt our....your home to ashes!! The mystical flames didn't leave anything save this sheet you came out of!"

She looked back at the sheet, smirking, then turned to her concubine, the smirk turning into a smile.

"So Gal....are you pleased your mistress is back, hm?"

"....It's M-m-mortis now..."

The demoness eyes flared a bright crimson, then she reached down and grabbed both horns, hauling him to his feet to where he could look into her glowing eyes.

"What did you call yourself?"

The ram remained silent, not able to avert his gaze, but he didn't want to. He longed for her touch, even if she was displeased with him for taking an altered version of her own name. The demoness scowled, throwing him onto the bed. He yelped when sinking slightly into the sheet, then gasped in horror when the black substance started to ooze and creep up his limbs, surrounding them in latex. He whined, squirming, but it held him firm, stopping when it reached his shoulders and upper thighs, solidifying into a pair of stockings and gloves, now fused to the bed, his rump exposed to her. She walked along, drawing a hand along his spine, the same substance trickling onto his back, weaving to fuse to his skin through the wool. It drew taut about his body, forming into a pair of open-crotch briefs and a sports bra, finalizing into a thick collar that held his neck. He glanced down at himself, gasping loudly at how it gleamed violet and glowed with the same shine that the sheet had. The demoness grinned, then moved to where she could straddle him, idly playing with his head wool.

"So Gal...did you think taking your mistress name and butchering it would make her happy?"

"...N-no mistress..."

"Then why did you?"

"...b-because I m-missed...you..."

The demoness allowed the slightest hint of a warm smile, then allowed her tail to drift between his buttocks, pulling tight while it snaked along, forcing the brief between his rump. She quickly wove the tail around the entirety of his cock, causing it to draw tight, squeezing his orbs and wrenching his length, making him moan loudly in lust. She drew her tail back up, then allowed it to grow and expand into a large paddle. It drew back, then snapped forward with speed inhuman, striking his rump. He howled loudly in both pain and alarm, then was quickly silenced when the sheet suddenly shot a phallus-shaped tendril into his mouth, the latex oozing to where it could cover his eyes in a blindfold. She nodded, moving her legs to where she could grip his upper body with her thighs, squeezing sweet moans from him. The ram whined into the gag, his body lurching with each slap of his mistress tail against his butt, that wiry tail wringing his cock like it was the teats of an udder, squeezing his testicles with imputy before the entire grip shivered, causing him to sway. She squeezed him again with her thighs, allowing her tail to continue paddling while glancing at her nails in thought.

"You know lamb, I was going to come back to see if you behaved yourself in my absence. And like a naughty sheep, you didn't. I was going to invite you to my realm, to let you stay with me in my true home, and you insult me by taking my name. You couldn't even take the full name, Morticia! You had to go with some meager male equivalent! Tsk, such a naughty boy...."

The ram mewled around the gag, attempting to hump at her tail, but it did no good. It simply moved with him, and when he moved too much, clenched him in a vice, making him wince. The paddling on his rump caused his posterior to burn with pain, but it shot waves of pleasure through his cock that she continued to milk, denying his orgasm with its grip. He struggled to remain in position, allowing her to idly chat away with nobody in particular while he received his punishment. IT seemed to last for hours where it was only minutes, but he cared not. He was with her again, her pet, her plaything, and this abuse was anything but. He lulled his head forward, gasping for air when the cock in his maw retreated, and felt his mistress stroke his cheek.

"Tell me Gallant....will you forsake your new name?"

"Y-yes..! Without hesitation!" He answered, voice slightly heightened to allow himself to be heard over the rubber-like whacks on his bottom.

"Do you want to join me in my world....where your body will be corrupted, and your mind freed of the boundries of this one..?"

"Yes!! Take me with you! There's nothing for me here, not without you!"

Morticia smiled, softly, running her hand against through his head wool. She snapped her fingers, the two of them beginning to sink into the latex. She relaxed her tail, still opting to spank her lamb, while she began to milk him, his cries of pleasure music to her ears. A few quick strokes were all it took to push the denied boy over the edge, and his cock spasmed with release, spraying the sheet with a sticky snow. It seemed to suck in his spunk, and the descent quickened, though she kept him bound and blindfolded, now hugging herself to him, the paddles never skipping a beat.

"Wise answer pet.." she cooed softly to the ram. She nuzzled his neck softly while they disappeared into the watery ooze, the paddles falling silent when his rump finally disappeared beneath the black waves. The sheet quivered, rippled, then became solid once more before beginning to vaporizing into tiny specks of smoke. Even though the room was empty, a single phrase could be heard lingering from the bed.

"...Welcome home sinner...."