Book of Changes

I

Philadelphus

Chohmlathais military doctrines were quite clear: cavaliers in training at their first deployments are not to leave their compound, nor are they to enter the Red Light and depressed districts of the cities to which they belong. In particular the aging codes of command written in the nineteenth century stipulated that such squires were to avoid the influences of foreign women whom, it was believed, would make them less combat effective by distracting them from their indentured service to the state. Of course as a response there was a great conspiracy at all levels to contravene this commandment as often as possible.

Having slipped from the Agora, Kierlan eluded the MP's by stowing his regimental dress in a safe place and travelling the streets of the developing city-state as a civilian. To the north the city crept towards Achaea over Mount Cyllene, while to the east they were hemmed in by Argolis and Corinthia, and to the south Laconia and Messenia grew ever closer to edge out what remained of the Pelasgian wilderness. This gave the Peloponnese state a claustrophobic personality with level upon level of habitation levels crowding on top one another in the same area as civic buildings while at the fringes ghettoes clung to the massive concrete and steel erection like filth on the foot of a giant. If he were caught outside the secured zone he would have no protections from the beating such intransigence entailed.

Still, Kierlan considered himself prepared. He had given his life to the Chohmlathais when he was fifteen and was now well schooled in all manner of death dealing weapons. As he navigated the narrow stone streets of the Egyptian quarter he knew he could turn most if not all of his surroundings into suitable defenses against outsider attack, his ears and nose sharp for the scent or sound of a knife in the back and the one who wielded it. He was certain these townies couldn't produce anything that could truly threaten him. And he was going to need it with the amount of attention he was garnering.

He was shorter on the average than most northern Uropians and rangy even with thick set muscles and bones. This gave him a very conventional lupine appearance such that when he felt himself scrutinized everyone knew Kierlan was a wolf's wolf, and with his silver white fur he stood out stark among the multitude of mud and shadow colored Greek, Persian, and Egyptian canines through which he meandered. That didn't stop the street walkers in outfits that would have been scandalous back home from propositioning him, running their paws along his bare arms and over his sleeveless white T-shirt while their heavy mammary orbs were ground into his back and chest salaciously. One particularly desperate female, a follower of Ishtar by the glace he gave her, shoved her paw down the front of his pants and grasped firmly what Kierlan had there. She wasn't disappointed, but they weren't what he was looking for.

He wasn't sure what he was after.

In recent years Kierlan had begun to question the purpose of all this training and effort when to all intents and purposes he lived in a peaceful world. International militant task forces like the Gaelic Chohmlathais were exceptions to the rule when in general local armed forces could deal with their own difficulties efficiently. For example each Grecian city-state claimed its own city guard, and those guard in times of instability could fight one another or join into a league against the Macedonians as they had done for generations, such that outsiders like Kierlan were seen as less than mercenaries. This whole illicit adventure was just an attempt to find some kind of meaning or enjoyment to be derived from his tenure.

Something had to change.

At last to escape the press of unwanted advances Kierlan dove into the cloth doorway of a moderately sized building. The entrance was flanked in two large Hermai, stone idols of towering phalluses, and for a moment he feared he'd found the one gay bar in the Quarter when his eyes adapted to the half light of the interior and he found himself among another mix of people both male and female. Relieved, he maneuvered through the narrow collection of tables towards the standing bar and leaned against it heavily. To his immediate left he found himself looking at a decapitated marble statue of what looked like some kind of probably red-furred canine by the flakes of paint clinging to it. The statue was dressed in a short toga and in one hand it held an ankh, while the other gripped an caduceus.

"What happened to you?" he asked, running his hand alone the cracked and abused stone work. The marble had once been exposed to the outside, and bore a level of sooty grime and disrepair indicative of modern pollution while someone had attempted to cleanse and restore the statue in a half hearted way. Likewise Kierlan found that the statue had once had real gold fixings and bits of jewelry, in addition to plating over the implements in its stone hands. These had long since been chipped off and now left ugly impressions of being half finished in the carving. "Hermanubis does not have as many followers as he once did."

Glancing over his shoulder Kierlan found himself looking at a female jackal whom was literally head and shoulders above most of the Egyptians he had interacted with on his sojourn. She was slim and muscular with an aristocratic cast to her elongated features that were painted with a gilt eye of Ra motif. Over her chest she wore an open shirt that matched her fur, barely draped over two ripe unbound breasts that he was certain were surmounted by large square rings. She was squeezed into too tight trousers that clung to her every curve, accentuating a figure that was hardened muscle but still generously padded in all the right places. He tried not to think about how ridiculous the hat on her head was. "Who?"

"Hermanubis," she gestured with one finger, the rest of her hand still wrapped around the caramel colored neck of a beer bottle. "Hermetic god of Alchemy and the secret art of transmuting substances." She took a long drink and Kierlan watched her neck stretch elegantly with each gulp. "I'm Kierlan," he said. "may I have the pleasure of your name?"

"A gentleman," she chuckled richly and her full lips split to reveal long white teeth. At the base of her throat he spied a black choker studded with gems, at the center a golden cross surmounted by a broad loop hung down to dip just between her breasts where they swelled upwards. Noticing his glance she twisted so that her elbows rested on the bar and put out her chest. "I'm Nefer, of Luxor."

"Long way from home," Kierlan remarked moving to join the jackal. "Luxor is in Egypt isn't it?"

"It is."

"So what brings you here?"

Nefer took a drink from her bottle again and let her eyes roam over the silver furred wolf. He wasn't as tall as she might have preferred, but he had strong lines and a solid build, which went a good way compared to the slim pickings she had found since coming to Greece. "I am an exchange student," she said. A dark frown crossed her features. "for what it's worth." "Not impressed with Greece?"

"With the people." She explained, gesturing around off handedly. "All runty little dogs and cats and not a warrior among them, hardly what I had expected from the tales of old." Nefer seemed to deflate at the thought, turning back towards the bar and letting her chin sink onto her crossed arms, so Kierlan moved into position next to her and let his tail brush along her own momentarily, drawing her attention back towards him.

"I can't say as though I'm supremely impressed either," he agreed. "I thought travelling around I would see people at their best but really people are the same wherever I go."

"Gutter trash every where?" she interjected with a wry grin. Somehow Kierlan found it unpleasant, but happy just to have the conversation he shook his head. "My kin are originally from the north as I understand it, raiders and wanderers once upon a time." he explained. "I'm used to seeing ditch diggers and farmers, I had just hoped it might be more of an adventure to see the world."

"I can understand that." She replied, his eyes inexorably drawn to the rise and fall of his chest. "We also take a great pride in our lineages, in our history." Her grin widened, almost splitting her head in half."I am an Anubis jackal," she said. "we trace our bloodline directly to the dark father himself." "I honestly can't say I know what that means." Kierlan said, feeling his mouth go dry as she reached up and hooked a finger into her too-tight top, tugging it down to reveal the barest hint of black areola jutting naked from back fur, surmounted by a pierced nipple. His eyes widen to saucers and he feels his tail rise and twitch unbidden as a powerful urge seizes his crotch. He'd almost forgotten what it was like to be this excited about a female. "Perhaps you would like to learn?"

He nodded.

One paid bar tab, and a quick walk down back alleys and through narrow streets brought him to what passed for the dormitories of the University. She had him wait at a back door while she went through the front, and when Nefer reclaimed him, they passed a fellow student who smiled knowingly and shook her head. "You're an animal, Nef." she remarked.

Nefer gripped Kierlan's paw and pulled him along eagerly towards her rooms. "Careful darling," she called back with a sing-song tenor. "You might be next." Then they were in her rooms and shoving him up against the door she closed it with his body before kissing him roughly. For a moment he was blinded with panic, head spinning with the force she exerted from her muscular body, biting his lower lip lustfully before she pulled back. "Wait here."

He found himself nodding again, firmly wrapped around her finger. Given a moment to his own devices he looked over the room, a tiny reasonably advanced office area, kitchenette, and living space with a flat plasma television. He could only assume the next chamber would hold a sumptuous bedroom and an attached bathroom. Nor was he disappointed when she summoned him with an authoritative command. Transitioning from one room to the next he found himself in Egypt, or as close as one could get to it in Greece. Gossamer curtains, thick tapestries, gilt fixtures, incense burning in broad braziers, and a long cool black marble floor. The center of the room was dominated with a large, low sitting, bed on which Nefer lay enmeshed in silk coverlets. Beside this there was a bucket of ice and a bottle of champagne but this was wholly forgotten as she rose to her knees, revealing her hefty breasts.

Gawking at revealed gourds of femininity he felt his pulse quicken as for the second time that night the fire raced to his loins, making his manhood swell thickly against the confines of his jeans. Rolling her shoulders back she then thrust out the gold-capped mammaries, her black lips forming a seductive circle around her teeth as she let out a long needy breath. "It was not hard to see where your attentions lay at the bar," she commented. "But now I want to hear them, boy, give me your worship."

Normally he would have been insulted at such a command, but moving closer he couldn't think of anything beyond the words that now fell from his mouth as he sank to his knees at the foot of her bed with a lust filled whimper. "Tell me what you crave," she goaded as she reached out with one long black leg and brushed his bulging crotch. "Then you may show me your arms."

"Your tits," he breathed harshly. "I want to squeeze and fondle them." He groaned as her toes curled against his trapped girth. "I want to pleasure myself and unload all over them." He let his eyes close as he wavered back and forth. Unable to see, but fully able to hear her voice as it purred over his brain while she cupped her ripe orbs and hefted them in her hands. "Then show this jackal how much you want a pair of tits."

Kierlan was like a kid with an all access pass to the candy store as he crawled onto the bed. His large hands moved to encompass the offered flesh, then slowly squeezing both breasts firmly. His grip was tenuous, uncomfortable, as clearly he does not know how to handle them well. Curious, he tugged at the large rings finding the pierced nipples to be exotic and unusual he leans closer to sniff and nuzzle her fat ebon nipple.

Nefer let out a hot, sultry, groan of pleasure when he seized her breasts and a lurid moan further escaped her elegant muzzle at the squeezes of the ripe tit flesh. Her breathing was picking up at each tug on the piercings, causing her nipples to thicken and firm up. But when he leaned close to nuzzle and sniff, she hugged his head to her chest, pushing the fat nub into his maw. "Suckle," She commanded. "Suckle harder boy. I want to enjoy it." She gritted her fangs in what, in other company, might be a pained grimace, but only served to express her growing arousal as she squirmed against the male she was clutching close so tightly.

At her insistence the wolf opened his maw and trapped the large, fat, nipple between his upper and lower teeth. He bit down firmly, heedless to the pain it may cause to her sensitive flesh as he suckles on the large round of female flesh. Meanwhile his hand stroked and squeezed on the side of either breast as his motions becoming stronger, abusing the jackals magnificent breasts and causing her to Inhale sharply.

She arched her back, gasping for air as he feasted on her breasts, pulse quickening and her lewd and obscene encouragements filling the air as her commands became more insistence. "Yes, that's it, boy," she lowed like a contented bovine. "yes, yes!" She breathed out eagerly when he left her teats aching with firmness and dripping with saliva. He was making her groan like a whore and she knew it. "I love firm hands on my boobs." She croaked, "Been too long since I last had a worthy male. "

Then she shoved him back, leaving the young wolf confused and panting for breath as she rolled back onto her partially obscured buttocks and crossed her legs one over the other. "Now," she started, running a long fingered paw along her tight stomach. "Show me if you have a suitable weapon to impress me."

Kierlan looks insulted for a moment, cheeks coloring deeply. His pants leg has a dark stain on it from his leaking and rolls off of the bed before he unbuckles his and pulls them down while kicking off his shoes, an amusing sight but one he does quickly enough. He stands there grinning with his shirt still on as his bulging member stands out: long and only partially canine in shape, it had a rounded bell head but a bulging knot toward the base, drooling constantly onto her floor. He flexes it and advances on her. "Impressed?"

Nefer licks her lips and grasped his long erection as it came into range, pumping him slowly from the head to the base. Then she pushed him down on the bed, setting him on the edge. Calmly the jackal slithered in front of him and settling down on her knees between his legs. Hefting her breasts again she wrapped them around his boner before lapping playfully over the rounded head."It is a powerful weapon indeed." she murmured around him.

Kierlan's head leaned back and he allowed his tongue to roll out of his mouth as he panted, a sheen of drool descending down his oral digit like the thick liquid freely running down his shaft, providing ever increasing quantities of slick fluid for the jackal to lick up while she sunk her head over his organ. Greedily she encouraged him to grind between her breasts by guiding his hands to seize her breasts which he grabbed eagerly. Squeezing them roughly about his bulging masculinity He began to thrust his hips up toward her muzzle. He grunted as his knot began to bulge with desperation.

All of the sudden the moment was upon him, and Kierlan's fingers dug into Nefer's breasts roughly as his bucking grew with the sudden swelling of his knot. With an undulating cry he began to spasm and burst with bubbling hot ejaculate as she made pleased squeals, kneading her breasts against his organ as it painted her face and cheeks. "Rub it in," she screamed. "Rub it in!"

Aroused as he was, Kierlan thought nothing of it, rubbing it into her fur until she was coated in his fragrance and her matted fur shone like latex. Then at last he slumps back with a pleasured smile. Licking her lips and running a hand over her body, Nefer reached over to fetch the champagne, pouring a glass for both of them. "Here is a bit of home vintage," She breathed. "As a chaser before round two."

"Round two, huh?" Kierlan asked, downing his whole glass in a single go.

"Oh yes." She agreed with her own indulgent swallow of bubbling fluid.

Murring headily from the warm dizziness that descended onto her senses, Nefer swayed her hips as she crawled onto the bed in her sheaf of sheets and kissed him deeply. Again, she was aggressive, shoving her tongue into his mouth to taste the flavor of his drink while the heat seemed to sap his strength. Kierlan looked stupefied when he was kissed, unused to such strong alcohol after the military swill, and looked at the bottle with a grin. " You think I can have some more of that?"

Happily the jackal fed her partner another glass of the wine, then another, then got to work on her victim as he passed out. Dragging him to the middle of the bed, she dug into her toy box under the bed and produced cuffs and restraints, shackling his ankles to the foot end of the bed and his wrists above. Grinning too herself at the thrill of working forbidden magic, she pulled out several long prepared alchemical components kept inert in sealed glass bottles until it was time to mix them. She did so now with mortar and pestle, adding a fluid that turned it into a thick, syrupy paste.

With a detachment reserved for medical professionals she smeared her hands with a cream to null the effects on herself, then began to smear her concoction over Kierlan's body, focusing in particular on his flat chest and firm buttocks, with his maleness and testes getting a healthy dose too. Before her eyes the salve was eagerly absorbed into his body, activated by the catalyst in the wine, and the changes began in earnest. The heat in his body from sexual contact further enhanced the reaction, growing into overdrive, and watching it Nefer allowed herself a moment of lurid masturbation at her own perceived genius.

When he did finally awaken, Kierlan's awareness returned all at once along with his aching head. Trying to sit up he felt the various restraints hold him back and he surged angrily at them. How could he have been so stupid as to be taken in by her smile and heavy tits? Still throbbing below the belt he knew how.

"What're you doing to me!"

"Just making some adjustments to honor your cravings." she murmured playfully, cupping his pectoral muscles and kneading more cream into them as they began to bulge. Kierlan watched her in confusion as he received the massage, thinking it some kind of kinky game for her as his struggles ceased. "What do you mean?"

"Making you into someone like me," She said with a smug, self assured, smile. "I couldn't help but get moved by your cravings for breasts." It was then with a measure of shock he noticed that in the time between his being drugged and awakening that the shift of cloth had fallen to reveal between Nefer's bared powerful legs, a huge, semi hard ebony cock strove upward against her tummy.

He looked at that shining black shaft in stunned silence until he began to whimper as he felt alien sensations from his broad chest where she had massage the small swellings of his pectoral muscles. His subconscious desire for bulging fat nipples were translated into a sudden aching hardness in his small male nips as they grew firm and harden with arousal before blossoming into growing c-cups.

Climbing across Kierlan's body Nefer settles down allowing his girth to rest along her buttocks like a hot dog as she continues to massage the unguent into his chest making his breasts larger and larger, masterfully sculpted and pressed into a lovely ripe shape. Even the nipples get tugged on and buffed into a juicy thickness, becoming increasingly sensitive

Meanwhile his shaft is throbbing painfully hard, smeared in the same substance, and he can feel it burning warm but is unable to see or know what is being done to it, unlike his chest which he watches hypnotized. Nef is attentive, sculpting the growing mounds with care and dedication she becomes aware of her test subject muttering something so softly he can only be heard as she leans over his body: "Bigger," he rasps. "Bigger."

Releasing his mounds Nefer reaches backwards to guide his manhood into her anus, sliding onto him and gasping for air as she feels the rapidly swelling cock stretch tunnel utterly. Huffing breathlessly, she grinds her own length into his belly with lust before pushing forward to rest it in between the newly formed breasts, which she wraps around her tool. "Now you are going to get the same thing you gave me, boy."

Kierlan yelped at the sudden warmth around his already burning shaft, bucking, enjoying the feeling, but his eyes were fixated his mountainous breasts. He eyed them with lust as they sat atop his chest swaying under the force of Nefer's lurid abuses. He almost seems not to notice the Jackal or what she was doing until her cock slid up between his breasts and she began thumbing the large nipples.

"Long have I wanted to turn a pretty boy toy into my own titty boy," Nefer huffed breathlessly. Eagerly she proceeded to gyrate her hips against the quaking wolf's breasts while she shoved herself back onto his organ crudely. Striking up a rhythm between grinding into his cleavage and down on his shaft, her own breasts heaved. She could not recall a time since the first time she had ever had her own breasts used in this way that she had been so excited.

"I know you've done something to my cock," Kierlan groaned. "I can feel it. It burns like my chest. What did you do to it..?" He sounds less sure of himself now, upset even as he is aroused, his hips thrusting up against Nefer even as her own drive at his breasts with a zeal.

"you are still a boy where it counts," she said smugly. "I, just rubbed growth cream into it." She began to shift more viciously on his organ, her knees squeezing around his chest as she took his knot into herself roughly. "You were a bit smaller than I prefer, so I did for your manhood what I've done for your ass and breasts too."

She tilted her head to the side with a cruel, imperious, grin. "You don't mind, do you?"

Her breath began to become quick and rasping as she contemplated what she had done, her manhood quaking. "You will be quite a jiggly sight of a wolfie with all that you're are packing."

"Does that mean you can keep making me bigger?" He groaned, feeling another peak rising in his loins.

Body Shaping is what I studied in my homeland," she gasped, feeling his knot swiftly growing inside her. You're the first non jackal I've practiced on where no headmaster is looking me over the shoulder." Her smug grin grew wider, tweaking his fat nipples, and yet again as his chest surges in size, becoming fatter and heavier; a juicy and ripe DD like her own. Kierlan gave a cry as the increase in chest girth likewise increased his sensations, causing his hips to jump and become savage in their passions. He drove his girth into her anal ring, and the prodigious anal violation only seemed to excite her further until both were like rutting animals, suddenly peaking. He sputtered, twisting as her maleness became a fountain, splattering his face and breasts with ejaculate while he too flooded her insides; stretching her belly wide with the seemingly vast amount of fluid his blazing testes now unloaded.

Looking pleased with herself the jackal settled back on his cock to savor the large girth locked in her buttocks with such pleasure written on her muzzle at each lurid splash filling her backdoor. "I knew I choose well when I saw you." she moaned. "Such a craving on your muzzle to grow, swell and become more than you already were."

"What will happen to me," he asked with ears burning. "Is it permanent or will it fade?"

"Will it fade?" She asked, looking indignant. "What do you take me for, a hedge mage?"

Then she smiled.

" You will be a shemale for the rest of your life, lover boy."

---

"So where did it come from?" Asked the professor of antiquities at the Sepermeru museum. The little dog was of Scottish descent, and had long struggled against the presumption he should have a tiny hat or pipe. Before him was a two meter tall crate that, to all intents and purposes, should not have existed in the building of which he knew every nook and cranny. And yet here it was.

Taking out his tiny spectacles the terrier scrutinized the box but could find no marker, no card. It was also unimaginably dusty, as though someone had dragged it through the sand outside the city for several hours before bringing it in without tracking a single bit of sand. It was also warm to the touch. "Well that's why we called you, professor." Commented the curator dryly. "Well lets open it then." The professor nodded to the security guard who brought forward a pair of crow bars and the trio got to work. Prying off the front panel allowed a small mountain of golden yellow sand to pour onto the concrete floor, and coughing the professor lamented that the janitor was going to have a hell of a time getting it out. Additionally there was a small hill of straw, but at the center there was a mother load. The Professor stared at the black lacquered marble sarcophagus and felt his heart quicken in a way it hadn't done since the third wife. Leaning in he read the inscription feeling like he'd stepped into an afternoon serial.

"Behold and despair, the lord of the night and the master of the world," he recited. "The formless one, the terror of empires and ruler of the Hyksos people." He felt he would faint as he stepped back."Amun-Set, Seth-Ra, Typhon-Set."

"Who is Typhon-Set?" Said the curator dumbly, he'd always been a simpleton.

"Typhon-Set is the Greek name for an ancient Egyptian warlord who once conquered the majority of the upper and lower Nile, and whose armies resisted the unification of Egypt for centuries. He was believed to be a god whose crypt was hidden by his followers after he was banished for attempting to have the god-king Horus-Ra murdered." The professor licked his lips again as if he would never be moist again. "The most powerful sorcerer to have ever lived."

"Well how did he get here?"

"I don't know." The Professor said. "I'm going to have to make some phone calls."

The sarcophagus cracked.

For an instant all three people in the room stood staring as an perfect imperfection traced the marble, and then the front half of the coffin box slid off. They looked at it on the floor as though they each had just broken their mother's favorite vase, and then looked at each other. Only when they looked into the now open sarcophagus did they see the writhing mass of black snakes glowering back at them. Each serpent, fine as a fingertip, moved with a bind of its own congealing into the shape of a much larger snake, it's fangs, glowing eyes, and flicking tongue a world of inconstant shaped slithering around.

Two serpentine protrusions darted out faster than the eye could follow. One for the curator and one for the security guard, whose years of training got his hand around the wooden handle of his gun the instant before his head was encircled in snakes. Both were lifted off of the ground three feet and dangled there, screams filling the air as the snakes delivered their acidic payload with a million swift bites. Dropping down the professor cowered as he heard the security guard's gun fire six times and then go on with an impotent clicking. Below this he still could hear the snakes slithering, gliding through fur and into unprotected noses, mouths, and ears.

Then the bodies were dropped to the floor. The Professor heard a heavy foot drop to the floor, easily the heaviest step he had ever heard, followed by a second. Slowly the sound of snakes receded, grow quieter and quieter until there was only the slightest hissing. Peeking up from between his hands he found himself staring up at an Anubis Jackal whom was easily eight feet tall and thickly muscled. Over his chest he had crossed his arms, and his head was tilted sardonically to the sight while the fluorescent light flickered in its presence off of the gold headdress he wore. The professor tried not to vomit as he saw that the dreadlocks that hung down the back of the jackal's body from beneath the crown were fat roiling serpents.

"You are wise," the jackal intoned in ancient Egyptian, the Professor cursing the day he had ever learned the language that he could now understand the horrible sibilant voice invading his mind. "and so I need you alive for the time being."

"Tell me, slave, what year is this?"

To be continued!