High School is Hell - Obscure

Lies

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'The Deception Dome, like the rest of Hell, was not what I expected a plane that prized deceit and lies. Indeed, it did have a dome but it was situated at the centre of the entire plane, a glimmering crystal clear edifice that could be seen from every corner of the realm. Within, there was a sprawling market where 'truths' were sold. Where deception is the norm, truth is the currency. All around the dome were homes and shady markets one would expect from a ghetto suburb but within the Dome, everything was alight and shining like... well, like Las Vegas.'

Friday had been a typical day for Conway Mitchell. Coach Conway Mitchell.

Even the slight altercation in the hallways between Wesley Washington and Todd Cummings had been 'typical'. When you were the coach for the seniors in an all-boys school, testosterone levels tended to overflow and that led to a few fights here and there. Sure he was surprised that Dante De Mont - a normally quiet kid and grandson of the beloved Virgil De Mont - had come in with a dagger but having known Virgil himself, Conway could understand why the young man would want to keep a hold of something that reminded him of the wise, strong adventurer.

In fact, as the clock ticked over to six in the evening, Conway had expected Dante to come bursting into his office with Shaun, Dante's father, to reclaim the dagger. During that entire time, Conway had kept himself busy but designing class schedules for his seniors, drills for the football team and whatever else he could think of to waste some time. But the sun was starting to set - at least by Angelton standards - and he didn't want to spend the rest of his Friday evening cooped up at work.

Conway got out of his chair and stuffed his equipment into a large gym bag that he still carried from his old college football days. Just looking at the bright green and white bag made his knee act up again. It wasn't a major injury but it was enough to cast doubt onto his eligibility as a professional football player. Enough, in fact, to ensure he wasn't even considered. A young, bright-eyed kid with from a backwater town no one had ever heard with nothing exactly spectacular about him could've made at least a reserve team on some low ranking team. Maybe. But with a knee injury? No way.

His dreams shattered, Conway had tried to try applying again in the following years but after he was shot down again, he skulked back to his home town of Angelton. He didn't give up on his dreams, however. He kept on training, trying to get into professional football. But he had been lying to himself, deluding himself with fantasies that would never come true especially as he got older.

It was Virgil De Mont who had brought him back down to earth.

Conway regarded the drawer where he had stored the rusty dagger and remembered that day when the handsome man had intercepted him outside of the gym. Virgil had asked if he wanted to be his workout partner for the day and although Conway tended to go to the gym alone, he ended up accepting Virgil's offer. They soon began to go together regularly and became quick friends. Although Conway was always surprised how Virgil, despite being more than a decade older than Conway, could press more than the then-unemployed twenty-four-year-old. One day Virgil had asked him what he was working out for and when Conway confessed his dreams, Virgil had told him that it was a lofty goal especially given the circumstances. At the time, Conway had been insulted and refused to give up on his dreams.

But day after day, they met each other at the gym and attempted to out-lift one another. Virgil always won and in the end, Conway had to confront him and demand what he meant. The reality of never getting into professional football given his history and the fact that he had started to put on weight in the wrong way crushed him. Virgil laid it down for him plainly: either cling onto that distant dream forevermore and chase a fleeting fantasy that was never to come true or find another calling.

Conway stewed for a few more days before finally decided to take Virgil's advice.

He smiled at the memory and opened the drawer, regarding the dagger. He pulled it out and twisted it in his hands. Virgil carried it whenever they had spoken. 'Protection' he called it and he claimed it held some great power. Conway never believed him and whenever he took it out, he always would make some remark about Virgil compensating for something. Although he would never say it, he had seen the man's dick - at least the silhouette of it - and he knew Virgil was packing.

With a heavy sigh, Conway stuffed the dagger into his bag and headed out of his office. No one was left at the school, not at this hour. Perhaps a few janitorial staff but the teaching staff and students were all gone. On a Friday night, the last place anyone wanted to be was at a school. It was no surprise that his big, red pickup truck was the only vehicle left in the parking lot. He tossed his bag into the passenger side and slipped into the driver's seat and turned the ignition, carefully pulling out of the teacher's lot before heading into the main road.

Conway let out a sigh and drove down the road at a steady pace. At this time of night there were no other cars about and he was left relatively alone on the road. Nothing but the sight of the thick forest that covered Angelton. As he began to reach the fork in the road that lead towards the suburbs an idea struck him. Instead of heading straight home, he took a left, heading east towards the beach.

Angel Kiss Beach was a really a far too bright name to give to the gloomy, constantly grey beach. Even in the sunniest day, the sands sitting at the base of sheer cliffs were always grey whether due to the shadows cast by the cliff or some other natural phenomenon. Very few people frequented the beach and evidence of its lack of attention stood as the decrepit pier that stretched out along the gentle curve of the sands.

Once Conway parked his car in the parking lot he began to head towards the pier. Although he had to carefully mind the large cracks in the concrete that had formed where the roots of nearby trees had grown underneath. As he followed the weathered path along the beach to the pier the wooden planks creaked beneath his feet loudly with each step. Most parents told their children to avoid the pier for good reason. The entire place was barely maintained and whatever idiot who decided to set up a beachside attraction in a perpetually gloomy town didn't bother thinking about long term investments. All along the pier there were a few weathered old shops and stands that sat disused and falling apart. Towards the end of the pier were an assortment of old Carnival attractions from the rusted, dilapidated Ferris wheel, the faded carousel and side attraction games that looked like it had come straight out of a horror movie. These days, the only people who came to the pier were fishing enthusiasts and they were few and far between. Even the rich upper class who could afford boats didn't bother to use it either.

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his shorts and headed towards one of the many warehouses sitting along the shore. Like its brothers, the warehouse was in disrepair having weathered years of neglect. But he still had fond memories of it. The doors were thankfully open and unbarred unlike the other warehouses although it still took some effort to push the door aside even just slightly to be able to peer inside.

Workout equipment littered broad, warehouse floor. There were bench presses, treadmills, dumbbells and even a large boxing ring at the very centre of the room. Fond memories of bouncing on his feet and dodging punches while Virgil did the same filled his mind and made him long for those days. But as he began to turn his eyes towards nurturing the next generation he sadly found that all that time he had when he was unemployed was gone and he could no longer focus on his own physical fitness. Just one glance at his man-boobs and enormous, rounded gut and Conway couldn't help but wonder what Virgil would say to him now.

He couldn't bring himself to wander through the old private gym again and shut the door. Back in those days, it has really just been him and Virgil. He never understood the older male's fascination with him but it made him feel... appreciated. It brought him back down to earth from years of living by looking up to an unobtainable dream.

Conway turned back towards the pier and remembered those days when he and Virgil would run down the length of the beach in nothing but a pair of shorts and their shoes. The cold air of Angelton cooled their bodies as blood pumped through their veins constantly. Somehow, Virgil never got tired and Conway always strove to beat him at something, anything. It was eventually his inability to best Virgil that made him realise that perhaps he wasn't the top dog, perhaps the recruiters hadn't made a mistake when they dismissed him for one minor injury.

He really missed Virgil.

Darkness was starting to fall but wasn't quite ready to head home just yet. When he returned to the parking lot, he followed a broken concrete path leading up to the cliffs. It was a long trek and by the time he reached a particular crest overlooking the rest of Angel Kiss Beach, he was winded and the sun had long set, the skies having already grown dark save for the multitude of twinkling starts that began appearing overhead. It was a good thing that there were little solar powered lamps that marked the edges of the cliff and the fences as well as dotted the path so he couldn't lose his way.

Conway groaned as he sat himself down on the trimmed grass just looking out into the darkness of the ocean. At the end of their runs, Virgil would always lead him up here where they would sit and just rest a little bit. It was on this very same spot that Conway had confessed to Virgil that he wanted to be a teacher, having given up on his dream of being a start football player.

He twisted the rusty dagger in his hands absently. "You always knew what to say," he said softly. "The world really lost an angel when you passed away into heaven." With a wry smile, he told himself, "I'll be okay." Then softer, he repeated, "I'll be okay."

He let himself dream and reminiscence of good old times for a little longer. A faint rumble brought him back to reality and he mistook the shake for his oversized belly's demand for sustenance. Just as he was rising, a sharp pain erupted from his right hand, just against his index and middle finger. He sucked in air through clenched teeth. The warmth of blood drizzled between his fingers and, cursing, he went to one of the nearby lamps to see what the damage was.

There was a rather deep diagonal cut across his palm, blood seeping between his fingers as he clenched his hand. There was similarly a trickle of crimson against the rusty dagger. Tetanus was on the bottom of Conway's list of concerns as he wiped his bloodied hand onto his pants, hoping that it would not stain his uniform. When he pulled his fingers back into the light, he was surprised at what he saw.

The skin around the wound was starting to blacken. At first, he thought it was just how he held it against the light but then the dark infection began to spread. His heartrate sped up, only proceeding to spread whatever it was that was giving a terrible shade to his fingertips. Strangely, no blood seeped out of the wound anymore. A faint tingling crawled up the back of his hand. In his panicked state, he immediately flipped his hand around. Right before his eyes, the layer of thin black hairs on the back of his hand began to thicken rapidly, making it look like a scruffy mat. His knuckles had never been fuzzy but they quickly grew a layer of hair that matched the coat along the rest of his hand.

"What the fuck!?" he exclaimed.

He dropped the dagger as he stretched his hand out in front of him as if keeping it as far away from him would stop the spread of whatever was changing his anatomy. A strange sensation suddenly exploded from the tips of his fingertips like he had been stretching a cramped muscle.. It was both a little painful and relieving. Conway bit his lower lip as his nails turned black and began jutting out into sharp, hardened claws. His fingers began warping, retaining their size but growing thicker and losing much of their flexibility. The black smudge on his fingers spread across the rest of his hand, growing into large, thick leathery lumps. The hair on the back of his hand spread all over his palms. The tips of every follicle became lighter, the dark brown fading into a smooth, steel grey as it continued to thicken into a seamless pelt all over his hand.

"Holy shit!" Conway cried. It was starting to look suspiciously like a paw.

Had he been paying more attention to the dagger, he would've noticed as the rusted blade and crumbling handle dissolved into a thick, grey cloud. Possessed by a powerful demonic force, it coiled in the air before plunging into Conway's left arm. The contact burned and he gasped. He instinctively reached for his upper arm where the burning sensation intensified. His new claws tore at his extra-extra-large letterman jacket but no more than when the heat _erupted_from his flesh like a volcano.

His left hand was hit with the same intense mix of pleasure and pain as it twisted and warped, the same grey fur springing up all over the back of his hand as his knuckles were pulled away from the heel of his palm. Both his hands grew bigger and wider but his fingers remained rather small by comparison, becoming thick stubs against the enormous palms.

"Oh fuck... Oh god! This can't be happeniiiiiiiiiiiiing!"

The base of his spine suddenly let out a loud crack and he abruptly lost his equilibrium. He let out a cry as he toppled to the ground, catching his weight on his new paws. A whimper left his lips as the grey fur rapidly crawled up his forearm, consuming his thumb as it transformed into a sharp deadly claw. He couldn't focus entirely on his arms as a powerful eruption of pleasure and relief suddenly exploded from his spine. The burst came with a loud grunt and an involuntary bucking of his hips.

Each blast caused his spine to grow longer and longer, reshaping it rapidly. What pain there should have been was offset by a powerful arousal that pushed his five and a half inch cock to the point of bursting. Overwhelmed by the changes, Conway let out a cry as his dick spewed his human seed into his shorts. But it was far from over as his spine stretched another inch and another burst of cum shot from his dick. Wave after wave of orgasmic bliss hit him, unrelenting in their attempt to batter down the walls of his resolve.

As his back continued to stretch, his clothes began to tear and shred. His enormous beer belly began to shrink away as all the fat and excess size was used to fuel his transformation. The mass transferred over to his back, building enormous muscles running along his spine. He grunted as his upper back exploded upwards, a distinct hunch appearing that added another foot to his height. The discs of his spine pressed up against his skin to the point where they were protruding through his shirt. The fabric tore alone the line, leaving his flushed, sweaty skin for the cool night air.

His muscles began reorganising as they continued to grow to take on an alien shape to the poor human. A cry left his lips as the small of his back became far more pronounced with a great emphasis placed on his upper body. As the fat was sucked from his belly, he was left with a slim waist and a set of rippling abdominals. Strange lumps began emerged over each of the eight, strong mounds. Sensitive nubs formed at the peak of each mound and against the cool night air, it made him shiver as the rest of his shirt fell away.

The change left his back for the moment as it waited for the fur creeping up his arms to cover the exposed skin. A fire was burning deep within Conway and the night air was rapidly sapping the strength from it. The warm coating of the steely fur was needed. Heeding the call, his grey pelt rapidly spread up his forearms, causing them to bulge out with strong veins and muscles to support his entire weight and fit the enormous paws he now sported. He let out a cry as his elbows and arms were filled with newfound strength, building incredible muscles that would be used to propel his enormous weight forward. His shoulders let out a loud pop as they grew and broadened. The force of the transformation paralysed his limbs, his fingers and toes curling in abject pleasure.

His loud, panting gasps began moans of lust. The fur continued its invasion of his body, spreading over the rest of his transformed arms, seeping over his upper arms and proceeding to sweep down his exposed back and chest. His pectorals beefed up, all fat being transformed into firm muscle that remained somewhat contrary to the rest of his body. He groaned as the growth of his chest pushed his shoulders further apart and, in turn, forced his shoulders to grow bigger to compensate. The fur hurried over the mountains of his pectorals, absorbing the sweat covering it and filling the air with his heady musk.

The ground shook beneath his body, dark demonic energies swirling all around him. Conway could do nothing but twitch madly in the maelstrom, cock constantly exploding with his seed even as the ledge he stood upon began to shake and crack threateningly. Sensing the impending danger, the transformation hurried and swept over his abdominals, lightly covering the extra rows of nipples he had now possessed and disappearing into his shorts.

"Fuuuuuuuuck!" Conway roared, his voice dropping several pitches as he screamed. The earth itself quaked at his cry and his shorts burst at their seams.

An enormous foot long dick burst from the fabric of his garment, slapping loudly against his abs and spewing precum onto his fur. It throbbed madly, constantly growing with every pulsation. As it did, its flesh became darker and darker, turning jet-black. Blood pumped from the base of his dick, travelling up the length and pushing the limits of the member at the very tip, reshaping the entire length to a more streamlined, pointed silhouette. Conway roared as his cock rose up to sit between his two pectorals. He couldn't help but rest his enormous paws against the throbbing member, whimpering as the transformation continued to keep his hands firm and incapable of clutching the hot piece of meat.

But his transformation provided him with the solution as his dick continued to rise and tapped his chin suggestively. No longer of sound mind, Conway immediately tipped his lips towards the offered dick and began lapping up the salty precum being offered to him.

He squeezed his eyes shut as the changes began sweeping over his features. With every lick, his tongue grew longer, flatter and far more flexible. Within moments, he found himself able to wrap his tongue completely around the girth of his member. But that was but an eighth of his entire length and he needed his entire cock pleasured. Again, his body began to morph to compensate, pushing his nose and chin further and further from his skull into an enormous, canine muzzle. He didn't even think as he eagerly gobbled up over half of his cock with his changing features, the strong, squared muzzle simply radiating power even as his ears were pushed to the back of his head and transformed into large, folded leaves at the top of his head. The grey fur swept up his corded neck, pumping more and more muscle into it to protect the vulnerable area while also lengthening it, allowing him to dig deeper and deeper to take more and more of his cock down his throat.

Conway rolled onto his side, ignorant of the immense quake that was tearing up the ridge around him. He was only vaguely aware of the change sweeping down his thighs and legs, adjusting them to take his new top-heavy stance. It took all the remaining mass he had and added it to his thighs, building them into enormous muscular tree trunks capable of carrying his weight entirely and charging down prey. His calves became thick stumps of muscle, oddly disproportionate to the rest of his rippling upper body. There was a brief discomfort as his clawed feet burst from his shoes, his heel and big toe pulling away from the rest of his foot to conform to his new shape.

With the last of his human reserves spent, the demonic energy worked to use the rest of itself to change Conway into the living embodiment of deception. The rest of his body became covered in the short, grey fur and rock hard muscles build underneath his skin. Conway grunted as his bones build to compensate for the sudden muscle growth and his entire body began stretching further and further. The transformation only continued to stimulate him further and with one final grunt, his cock erupted.

Grey demonic seed burst from his enormous two and a half foot dick, pouring right down his muzzle and into his body. Conway shuddered, his enormous eight foot tall quadruped body shaking in rhythm of the tremors around him. For a good long, ten minutes, Conway drank his own seed, slowly dousing the flames of hell that burned away the rest of his human form and former life. Slowly, he came down from his sexual high and the stream of seed ended, his balls spent.

The large demon sighed and collapsed onto his side, the earthquake subsiding. He was panting but he was so full of energy. The newly made demon gingerly got to his feet, his body and mind somehow knowing how to move his incredible, muscular form despite his consciousness still struggling to understand what had happened to him. He found that he could no longer completely walk on his legs. He was forced to lurch forward, holding his weight on his knuckles in an almost gorilla-like fashion. His movements were awkward at first as he mentally adjusted to the instincts of his body moving both his arms and legs with every step.

He staggered back down the path to his car, eyes a little blurry and mind flushed with the haze of afterglow. Once he made it back, he was stunned when he towered over his vehicle. Even more so when he brought his features towards the side view mirrors to see what he had become.

"Fuck me..." he rumbled.

******

When Dante De Mont woke up on Monday morning, he wasn't expecting school to be in session. But as he was reminded by his mentor and guardian, Russ, school very much was in session. He groaned and rolled off his flat bed made entirely out of demonstone, a dark substance summoned from the very pits of Hell that was surprisingly comfortable for a hellhound like Dante.

It had barely been three nights ago when his world was turned upside down and he had been transformed into a denizen of Hell with the soul of a mortal thanks to a seemingly benign trinket that his grandfather, Virgil, had given him. That same trinket lay wrapped around his neck, a silver necklace with a simple wolf-pendant. It gripped his thick neck like a choker or a collar but these days, it was just like an extension of his body. He barely even noticed it was there anymore.

Dante shuffled across the room that he had been given in Russ' large house sitting in a secluded place amongst the thick forests of Angelton. They were a significant distance away from any main roads and it would thus take some extra time to get him to school. The fact that the school bus didn't come anywhere near Russ' house made things even more difficult. Dante stretched his mighty 6'9'' frame, firm, young muscles tensing to work out the soreness that he had felt the previous night.

Demons generally didn't need any sleep and only tended to get knocked out either through physical force or when they had such an explosive orgasm that their bodies demanded slumber to rejuvenate themselves. The evidence of last night's emissions splattered the surrounding room, glowing white seed seething with demonic energies. The carpet and walls that his seed had splattered upon were already showing signs of corruption, turning black and sucking the light out from around it. Strange as it seemed, Dante felt a little comfortable with the large patches of dim lightning around the room. Even though a certain area was completely within the line of sight of a light source, it was still somewhat dimmed.

"Damn..." he rumbled to himself. "I hope Russ doesn't mind."

School was his priority, at least for the moment. Dante scrambled to his overnight bag that he had brought over from home. With the emergence of other demons into the world, earthquakes had ravaged Angelton. Of them, Dante's home. His father, Shaun, probably stayed at the shelter but Russ had invited Dante to sleep at his place which was unharmed by the tremors. He had brought over a week's worth of clothes though he wondered just how much of his old wardrobe would fit his new stature.

It didn't matter.

Throughout the night, he had spilled his seed onto his bag. His corruptive influence had seeped into fabric of his clothes, transforming them from the average teenager's attire to what looked like fur pelts that had been freshly skinned off an animal. He definitely couldn't wear that to school. He definitely couldn't go to school naked either.

There was a closet in his room so he wondered if Russ had some spare clothes that would fit him. He was in luck. The closet was full of clothing that was more his new size. He seized a few articles of clothing and then shut the closet door. He caught sight of his new appearance, still a little stunned at the human stud that stared back at him. It would've been easy to mistake him for a professional football player with his lean, muscular build. For the first time in his life, he realised he actually needed a shave as he rubbed the stubble on his cheeks that gripped his strong, angular jaw. He hoped Russ had a razor.

Dante grabbed the clothes, danced around the puddles of cum like he was swerving through a minefield and hurried to the bathroom. Russ' home was a large two storey building with unusually wide doorways and hallways. Dante had always thought this was just a design choice but having lived in the house as a hellhound, he realised it was out of necessity. There was plenty of natural lightning streaming in from the windows. Russ seemed to like the idea of floor-to-ceiling windows which was present in almost every room in the house.

He found the bathroom which had a large open shower big enough to fit two hellhounds and a large, floor-level bathtub along with the toilet and a sink. Dante set down his clothes and slipped into the shower. He turned on the water, expecting to be hit by a strong blast of cold. While he was not disappointed, the water sizzled upon contact with his flesh. Hellhounds did have higher body temperatures than humans, after all, the bathroom quickly filled up with steam.

A sigh of contentment left his lips. Memories of the previous night's adventures flooded his relaxed mind. Fighting through several demons, condemning his best friend to Hell and then consuming all the evil energies infused into an entire demonic palace to cleanse it could really wipe a guy out. Especially since the latter activity revolved around him devouring as much corruption as he could until he was fit to burst. Then his mate, Flash, would proceed to suckle on his nipples or cock, drain the pure energy from his body and use that energy to power his hellfire to help burn away the rest of Edward's taint.

By the end of it all, Dante had orgasmed so many times that by the time they returned to Russ' sanctuary, he rushed up the stairs, shut his door tight and proceeded to pump every last bit of his demonic seed out of his churning balls. A reason why he was currently human.

Though his heart weighed heavily for what he had done to Edward, he knew it was necessary. His best friend had become a demon entirely. Nothing could've contained him... save perhaps the realm of Hell. Dante shook the thoughts from his head and picked up the luffa. There was a sweet, musky gel soap sitting in a holder next to the shower dials and he used that to lather himself up. The sensation of having the thick hairs on his chest stimulated by the soap was still a little alien to him. He had been so hairless and looked almost like a preteen back before all this happened.

Now he was thrust into the world not only as a man but as a hellhound.

It made him wonder what he could possibly do with his life after all this was over. Some part of him didn't want the adventure of fighting demons to end but at the same time, he would need a job. Being an immortal hellhound with no money probably wasn't a very good life to live. Thinking of the future brought his gaze and his big hands towards his crotch where his sheath sat. His big, flaccid dick sat inside a tube of flesh covered in a smooth layer of black fur. That same fur extended over to his balls, acting as a little protective coating. He had seen canine sheathes before and he was somewhat relieved to note that there wasn't a flap of skin that bound his cock to his belly. For all intents and purposes, his had the silhouette of a human's... even if it was abnormally large.

As he scrubbed himself down, he heard a faint click and perked his ears. One of the many advantages of being a hellhound was the enhanced senses. Even over the sound of running water from the shower, he could detect the water coming from another water source. Curious, he shuffled across the shower, poking his head around the corner of the brick barricade that offered him some degree of privacy.

His eyes widened at the large crimson hellhound that stood a few feet away, one enormous arm pressed against the wall to support his weight and the other holding his enormous, sheathed dick as it poured urine into toilet.

"Flash!?" he exclaimed. "Dude! Little privacy!?"

Flash, the red hellhound and his mate, lifted an eyebrow at him. "We see each other naked most of the time and just last night, we were both sporting two foot hard-ons and I was sucking on your nipples." He shrugged and returned to his business. "I don't see how this is any different."

"It's plenty different!" Dante cried, subconsciously cupping his privates.

"How?"

Dante wracked his brain for a reason. He just felt incredibly self-conscious and on some level, he knew it was utterly ridiculous. Their first night, he had Flash had rubbed their dicks against one another and spewed cum over one another as they transformed for the first time. Ever since then, they hadn't really done much except for that one time when they had gotten each other off but apart from that...

Flash was meant to be his mate and on some level, Dante felt that. There was a connection between them that was strong and unexplainable. He was sure Flash felt it too even if he didn't outwardly display it. He didn't think he could stand it if he was away from Flash for an extended period of time. If one of them ever went across the country, the other would just go insane and chase them down.

That said, he still had to answer Flash's question.

"Because I'm human!" he replied, sounding incredibly stupid just for saying it.

Flash looked about ready to burst out laughing. "Wait... So you think that being human is basically the same as being naked?"

"Well... It's our true forms, right?"

His mate shrugged his enormous shoulder. "I dunno. I sort of think being all this" - he flexed his enormous biceps, veins tensing across the massive mound - "is my true form. Being human is sort of the disguise we put on so we fit in with everyone else. Russ feels the same way."

"He does?" Dante asked. "I guess it's a little hard for me to believe that because I've always seen Russ as the human..."

"You've known him longer like that," answered Flash with another shrug. He lowered his arm and shook himself off. "I've only really known him as the hellhound so I guess I kind of think like him. Besides, I feel more... natural this way. It's hard as fuck to squeeze myself back into a human."

Dante suggested getting off a lot and perhaps he could help in that respect but he only had gotten to know Flash on a personal level for the past few days. Sometimes not even then as he was more preoccupied with fighting demons and learning his new powers than being with his mate.

"Well you're not going to go to school looking like that," Dante responded. "You'll freak people right the fuck out."

"The Glimmer might help," Flash said with a smirk, referring to the strange phenomenon where something supernatural would be registered by a normal person but they would either make an excuse for it to cope for the oddity or just ignore it.

"That has a limit, you know."

"Yeah, yeah," Flash said, heading towards the sink to wash his enormous paws. "Shit. Going to school is going to be fucking hard." He gave Dante a lopsided grin. "At least I won't he fighting the urge to sleep in Mr. Barrows' class."

Dante chuckled at that and finished up with his shower. Flash was gone by the time had finished and got ready to give himself a shave. His dad had taught him the basics but without any real facial hair to call his own, he had never put it into practice. There was an electric razor for him to use so that helped in some respects. No cuts and a smooth face filled him with pride and he proceeded to put on the clothes.

Wearing an extra large white collared shirt was a little strange especially since it was still a little too tight for him especially around his shoulders and chest. However, he had to deal with it as he headed back out of the bathroom and down the steps.

Russ was already cooking breakfast. The tall, broad-shouldered man had black hair just like Dante but his temples were greying though given everything that Dante had learned about the hellhound, it was probably purely cosmetic. Russ wore his hair short and sleeked back, a regular business man for his supposed role a lawyer for the small town of Angelton. He was already dressed in broad, grey slacks and a cool, ice-blue collared shirt. For the moment, he forewent a tie, leaving the top button open to reveal the thick matt of chest hair he possessed as well as the thick layers on his forearms.

Looking at his own forearms and the chest hair he possessed, Dante began to wonder.

"Morning, Herc," he greeted.

Russ glanced over his shoulder, his brown eyes glistening and a small smile on his features. "Very funny. I'm glad you're left rather sane after last night's events. Throwing your best friend into Hell isn't easy."

"Hell is for those people who like that sort of stuff, right?" Dante answered, taking his seat at the kitchen counter. "He might like it there. He certainly couldn't stay here." He sniffed the air and his mouth began to water not because of the rather scrumptious chicken wings that Russ was making but because of the faint, dying cries of the chickens, the disgust of the workers who prepared the dead birds for shipping and the numb indifference of the butcher who slaughtered the carcasses for sale infused into the lightly breaded, succulent poultry.

"That's a very mature way of thinking of it," Russ said with a smile and nod. "I remember a few other people who were thrown into Hell for whatever reason. Couldn't get their heads around the fact that they enjoyed the stuff that happens down there. Thought they'd go to Heaven for whatever reason." He shook his head and shook the pan to get the chicken to shuffle a little. "So much negative stigma is around Hell. It's actually fairly nice."

"Maybe we can visit it sometime."

Russ plucked a bottle from his right and tipped it towards his lips. Dante's cheeks burned with a blush as he recognised the milky fluids as some of the demon milk he had given the previous night. Russ had decided to bottle some of it for future use. It was like a demon energy drink.

"Maybe," he replied, turning away from the sight of the big, hairy man drinking the stuff that came out of his nipples. "Um... Hey Russ, can I ask you a weird question?"

"You're talking to the legendary Cerberus here, son," Russ snickered. "Trust me. I've done weird." He took another swing from the drink.

"Well... can... can male demons get pregnant?"

Russ suddenly choked and did a spit take, spraying Dante's milk all over the microwave. It was a good thing the white fluid wasn't corruptive like true demon seed. He wiped his lips with the back of his sleeve and regarded Dante incredulously.

"Wh - Wh - Where did you get that idea?"

Dante grinned sheepishly. "Well... My grandpa was a hellhound and _you're_a hellhound and we sort of look a lot alike. I know my mom had blonde hair and green eyes and I was just sort of wondering if-"

Russ took another gulp of the drink and took a few breaths to calm himself. "Okay. That's... flattering, and all, but you came from your father and mother. There is no question in that." He pointed at Dante. "And your father came from Virgil and his wife." Russ leaned back against the stove, looking somewhat uncomfortable. "But... yes. Male demons can impregnate other males."

"Did I hear that right?" Flash demanded, suddenly poking his head in from the hallway. He was human again, showing off his devilishly handsome features. Unlike Dante, he had decided to wear his beard but trimmed it down so that it was a little neater. It really made his green eyes pop out especially framed by his short, slightly curly red hair. He entered the room, wearing his letterman jacket with the arms wrapped around his neck like a scarf and a black tank top as a shirt. He was wearing a pair of tight fitting three-quarter shorts and sandals as well. "So if I fuck either you or Dante I'm going to be a daddy?"

"That's not how it works," Russ said, waving his big paws around. "Demons, male or female, don't impregnate one another simply by having sex like mortals. The recipient of the seed needs to want to have a child. It can't happen by accident. Once this happens, the receiver's anatomy changes. As you may have already realised, a demon's body is quite malleable to a certain limit."

Thinking of how his own milk sacs had developed, Dante knew that all too well and nodded.

"A receiving demon's body will change to accommodate the birth of their child," Russ continued. "I've seen demons who had developed wombs in their bellies and the babies came out of their asses. Mammalian demons like us have laid eggs. I know there were some demons that gave birth through their nipples."

Dante immediately reached for his chest and covered his nipples instinctively.

"So..." Flash began, leaning against the counter. "Have you ever been on the receiving end?"

Russ glowered at him. "I told you before. No one fucks Cerberus. So no, I've never given birth." He glanced at Dante. "And neither has your grandfather. The closest either of us ever got to it was him turning into my dick and me proceeding to shoot him out of my cock. A fucking fantastic feeling..." Russ grunted, shook his head and cleared his throat. "Breakfast is ready. Eat up."

Even as humans, both boys had powerful jaws and nearly invulnerable teeth. They were able to tear through the chicken wings with ease, bones and all. As always, the only really fed on the dark emotions attached to the meal to fuel their demonic powers. The physical food was directly transformed into more of their seed, giving their ball sacs a bit of extra girth. It was still somewhat difficult not to rip his pants off, let his dick rise to erection and go all demon while spraying his seed everywhere but somehow, both young hellhounds resisted that urge.

Russ packed them both a few burgers for their lunches and then ushered them outside. Dante made for the big, black van that they had used the previous day but Russ let out a quick whistle.

"We're not taking the van."

"We're not?" Dante asked. "Why not?" Then he inclined his head to the side. "And you have another car?"

"Yes I do." Russ pressed a button on his car keys, signalling the garage to start opening. "I don't take the van out during the day where everyone can see. A big black van doesn't advertise 'respectable lawyer'. It's more like 'child rapist'."

As the rest of garage door pulled open in full, Flash lifted his eyebrows.

"A hybrid?" he asked. "You drive a hybrid?"

Russ shrugged. "What? I care about the environment."

The white hybrid sedan was surprisingly roomy and the three hellhounds fit inside with ease, school bags and all. Both Dante and Flash remained in the back seat while Russ took the driver's seat. Russ backed out of the garage and drove down the peaceful road lined with the towering trees that was so common around Angelton. It would take a full fifteen minutes before they even reached Angelton's 'rich district' where large homes just like Russ' were spaced relatively close together. Another thirty and they would be at Angelton Boy's High School.

It was still a long ride and Dante found his mind wandering. He couldn't help but wonder how Ed was doing or indeed who else could have been affected by the artefacts that he had inadvertently spread across the town. He also worried about his dad and Flash's twin brother, Flint. Both of them were touched by the artefacts but whether or not they were turned was an entirely different matter.

He pulled himself out of such terrible thoughts and tried to think of something a little more positive.

"Hey Russ, how long does it take for a demon to give birth?"

"Oh my god!" Russ exclaimed. "Can we please drop the baby thing!?"

Dante flinched and exchanged confused glances with Flash. Both of them were wondering why Russ was so aggravated about the topic but they kept their curiosity to themselves as they reached town.

His demonic senses prickled. The smell of all the delectable negativity infused into the air made his mouth water. Though a sleepy town, Angelton was still populated by mortals and mortals had the capacity to feel everything from the most euphoric bliss to the deepest depression. It was nearly overwhelming but Dante reverted to his training under Russ. He focused on one scent, one emotion, one colour that made the mesh of swirling clouds in front of him.

The purple of pride. It was the one he was most familiar with given that just the previous night, his best friend Edward Teller had gorged on such emotions until he was corrupted by it. At the moment, it was the least appetising for him so as he pushed back the other mists of negativity, he also turned away from the purple miasma. The exercise calmed him and he was able to remain calm.

Flash had shut his eyes and was doing a few breathing exercises to keep himself under control.

It got worse as they approached their high school. Teenaged hormones, angst and a rapidly changing life tended to give birth to a lot of negativity and as the two emerged from Russ' car, they could taste it all. The impact of the recent earthquakes had left a lot of the kids feeling down. That the school continued to run despite the disaster only compounded on their misery.

"Do you think you two can do this?" Russ asked, poking his head out of the window. "It's okay if you can't."

Dante exchanged glances with Flash one more time. His mate gave him an encouraging smile followed by a short nod.

"We can do this."

******

"Hey Superstar!"

Conway flinched and spun towards the voice. The owner was Samuel Newman, the German-slash-Math teacher for the seniors. Despite being only two years younger than Conway's own thirty-seven, Sam somehow managed to maintain the metabolism of a teenager and remained slim, athletic and with a handsome, pointed jawline despite never having worked out a day in his life. He met Conway's new height of 6'11'' whereas before, Conway had to crane his neck to meet the younger teacher's gaze. His debonair blonde hair was styled into a set of youthful spikes without being unprofessional and he wore a pair of square glasses over his cornflower blue eyes.

Sam slapped Conway's broad, muscular shoulders that barely fit into the 'human' senior coach. "Glad to see you're safe. Been trying to reach you all weekend."

"You...You have?" Conway rumbled. It wasn't the first question he wanted to ask.

After his bizarre transformation Friday evening, Conway had spent the better part of Saturday trying to get back to his house. Being unable to drive had been a problem but somehow, his new body was able to make the trip from the beach back to his little home in the suburbs without breaking a sweat. The next obstacle came with the fact that he had lost his keys and his enormous paws were too big to use the spare keys. He grew rather accustomed to his new body and leapt over the back fence into his own backyard where he lay in the shade of his house, trying to figure out what was happening to him.

It was about at noon on Saturday that he finally changed back and he managed to use the spare key hidden in a flowerpot to get back into his house. Passing the hallway mirror almost gave him a heart attack. The man looking back at him was definitely not the Conway Mitchell that left school Friday evening.

Firstly, all his hair was now completely grey. He didn't look old. On the contrary, he had the features of a man a decade younger and with muscles that would have made a bodybuilder green with envy. His waist was unusually narrow in comparison to his immense upper body and thick legs but he was not complaining. Though he did note the presence of those extra nipples sitting against his abdominals. His forearms were covered in thick, grey hair and so were his legs. There was a scar on his right shoulder shaped exactly like the dagger that Dante De Mont had possessed and he had confiscated. It was no coincidence and it was the presence of the perfectly shaped raised, slightly pink fleshy outline that had convinced him to go to work.

He needed to know about the dagger, to know what was happening to him.

"Yeah!" Sam laughed. "I mean, I am one of the fire marshals for the school, you know. After the earthquakes last night, I went around calling for people to check if they were okay. You never answered."

"Oh..." Conway rumbled. "I... Uh... I lost my phone in the quakes." He lifted his arm, rubbing at his grey hair. He flinched when he heard his shirt start to strain. Finding clothes that fit his new build had been very difficult. He was actually wearing one of the school's extra-extra-large letterman jackets that no one ever used. They were given to staff as no one ever fit them. Now, Conway did... barely.

"Just glad you're safe, Superstar," Sam said, grinning at him broadly. He lifted the mug of coffee he had in his hand. "Here you go. Your usual. Black. No milk. Two sugars."

Conway frowned at the mug. There was a thick, grey aura around Sam, something that he had noticed every now and then. The world seemed much more... vibrant_now. He was seeing these... 'auras' around people and something in his brain associated them with certain emotions. Somehow, he knew that grey was a lie and that it was the easiest to read for some reason. It also looked... _delicious.

"You're lying," he accused suddenly. "You used a sweetener. Not sugar."

Sam's eyebrows lifted and then he let out a laugh. "Got me!" He slapped Conway's abs with the back of his hand. The light touch against his new nipples sent a bolt of pleasure up Conway's spine and he stifled a moan as his cock started to harden. "Can't have you losing those killer abs, can we?"

Conway let out a faint, nervous chuckle and followed up with a grunt of acknowledgement. He brought the coffee to his lips and took a sip. Usually, he needed a cup to wake him up but he was so full of energy recently. He had taken the old bicycle that he had stopped using years ago to school and even after the ride, he wasn't tired. Sweaty but still very energetic.

"Hey Sam," he began. "You... uh... You don't noticing anything... weird about me, do you?"

His colleague gave him a confused look. "What? Did you cut your hair or something?" He shook his head. "I mean, I always found it weird that you're only two years older than me and you have all grey hair but what else is new, right?"

That grey aura around Sam was gone. He wasn't lying. That just confused Conway all the more.

"Um... Yeah. I guess I'm just feeling a little off today..."

Sam's cheery disposition faded slightly. "Who wouldn't... Ten earthquakes in one night... The town is fine. Wasn't that much damage but still... People are scared. They're still trying to check for missing people."

Still checking for missing people...

"Did Dante De Mont report in?"

Sam frowned and tapped the side of his head. "I think he did. I called his dad's place and his dad said he was alright. Staying with someone else while they got their house looked at since it was fairly damaged. I remember him because his dad sounded really shaken up. More so than everyone else." He glanced back at Conway. "Why?"

Conway quickly thought of an excuse. "He's part of the football team. Do you know if the others reported in? Todd Cummings? Flash Goldman?"

"Flash, yes. Todd only called in this morning. Was apparently at the gym when the quake hit and that place was hit pretty hard. Apparently was being kept in the hospital for observation and you know how hospitals aren't allowed to divulge personal information to anyone but the police." Sam turned to leave. "Oh, students aren't allowed to stay past normal school hours today. So you'll have to call off practice."

"What!?" Conway exclaimed.

Dante hadn't taken physical education as part of his subjects so the only contact Conway had with Virgil's grandson was through football practice. He could have hunted him down at lunch or during classes but he didn't want to arouse suspicion. Besides, how could he have asked Dante about his condition?

'Hi Dante. Did you grandfather ever say anything about that dagger? Like, say, did it ever turn him into a werewolf with a colossal dick?'

"Something the mayor imposed at the town meeting on the weekend if you have bothered to go," Sam teased. "It's a wonder the school should even be open. There was a quake near here and your football field is sort of..."

Conway groaned. His field. His field had been hit.

But wait.

When he changed for the first time, the ground had shaken all around him to the point where it had caused some severe fissures near the beach. Could it be possible that someone else had changed at the field just like him?

He had to remain focused. It was the dagger that started this. He had to find Dante first and foremost.

"Fair enough," he grunted. "I gotta get to class."

After such a big natural disaster, some teachers had opted to take the day off. The school wasn't even completely full of students and life like it used to be either. He sincerely doubted anyone would enforce going to school and only the die-hard students would attend. Or maybe just those students who were forced to attend because of their parents for whatever reason. He very much doubted that there would be any actual learning done.

While the school was open, class was not in session.

He went to his office that set within the gymnasium. His chair squeaked beneath his weight but for an entirely different reason. It was the weight of muscle that it complained about not fat and that did tickle his old fantasies of being a professional sportsman again. Maybe not a football player anymore. Perhaps a bodybuilder or weightlifter.

There was time for such thoughts later and he quickly opened his computer and began checking his emails. Amongst the few emails he ever received was an internal announcement about which sections of the school were off limits. As Sam said, the football field was definitely out of commission. None of the classrooms were heavily affected and there was a reminder about how earthquake safety procedures. Lastly, there was an 'emergency class assignment'. Not everyone had turned up as Conway had suspected so he was now assigned to a certain classes to keep an eye on the students as a substitute.

That was just as well. He didn't have his senior PE classes until later in the day anyway. There was time to kill. The first class he had been assigned to was a senior physics class. That was good and bad in some ways. Good in that most of the people who took the class were likely to be silent and concentrated on filling their heads with as much knowledge as possible. It would be peaceful, quiet and would give him lots of time to think. It would bad in that he would probably be bored as hell.

Conway finished the rest of his coffee, wincing at the artificial taste of the sweetener and then headed to class in question, carrying with him a printout of the class attendance sheet and some reminder the teacher had sent for whoever looked after the students. Having been 'big' before his changes, Conway was very much used to weaving his way through the hordes of students as he made his way through the hallways. Though he did feel a little odd in that he had to be more careful of where his massive, meaty arms swung instead of who he bumped into with his belly.

He made his way to the sciences building. A line of students were already waiting for him and he could see a couple of them groaning or rolling their eyes at the sight of him. They tried to hide their displeasure at have a muscle head like him looking after their class causing a faint grey aura to permeate the air. The mist made Conway's stomach growl and his cock twitch but he fought down whatever those urges were and opened the door into the lab.

Taking his place at the front of the room, he began taking attendance. It was no surprise that over half of the students weren't there. After telling everyone that they were just to do some quiet study, he parked himself at the front of the room behind the desk and settled himself for wait until the next bell hit. Since he had lost his phone during his transformation, he was out of any forms of entertainment except for the newspaper he had snatched from the teacher's lounge.

Naturally, the local news was all about the tremors. So far, it had identified a few sources of the quakes particularly those that were in highly populated areas. Apparently, there was an epicentre near the graveyard causing a rather horrific scene of decomposing bodies being exposed as their graves were split open. There were still missing people reports flitting around and the death toll was yet to be confirmed.

Then he came to a small section that made his heart stop.

Apparently, a large number of high school students were admitted to the local hospital for PTSD, amnesia and insanity. Of the names, he recognised some of the students he taught, particularly members of the senior lacrosse them. In fact, the entire lacrosse team. There were a few others he didn't recognise.

Many of them were babbling about some sort of 'demon', 'pit fights' and 'looking beautiful'. Increased aggression, uncontrollable masturbation and almost rabid personalities were amongst the symptoms however, they were apparently already on their way to recovery. The doctors were confident that within the next few days, they would be sane again.

It was odd that an entire team had gone insane though Conway guessed that they had all congregated during the tremors. His teams were quite closely knit and were like brothers to one another. It wouldn't have surprised him if, during the quakes, they had called one another, gathered in one spot and been caught in something that traumatised them all. That they all began babbling about generally the same thing, however, was odd. Conway shrugged it off. The doctors would know what to do but he made a note to check up on them later or at least call their families just to see if they needed any support of any kind.

His musing was interrupted when a loud cough came from right in front of him. He peered up across the broad, wooden desk. A relatively short young man stood in front of him, looking rather confident and smug. It was a student he didn't recognise even after the roll call. While he didn't want to stereotype, the guy was a slim, almost gaunt fellow with wild unkempt brown hair and dressed in loose, baggy clothing.

"Coach Mitchell," the young man said, holding out a piece of paper. "I got this note from my mom and got it signed off by my homeroom teacher. She wants me home before lunch."

It was clearly a lie. Conway didn't need to read the thick grey aura hanging around the guy to know that it was clearly fake. Still, he humoured the guy and regarded the note. The penmanship was exquisite and without knowing this person's mother, there was no true way of telling if it was a fake or not. Regardless, the grey mist emanating from the note itself spoke volumes. He didn't think that he could read the deception off inanimate objects. From what little he could glean, the note was written just before arriving at school with the explicit purpose of being so beautifully written that it would be nearly illegible.

Tempting as it was to just tell the guy to sit down, he didn't want to trust a sense that he had just recently discovered.

"Alright," he rumbled, keeping the note. "You can go. Just be careful."

The young man beamed. "Thanks Coach." He went back to his books and stuffed them into a satchel bag. Then he was gone, speeding down the hallways. Conway secretly wished the kid would get caught by another teacher. Without a note, he would likely be told to head back to class. Some other teacher could be the bad guy and tell him that it wasn't safe to be wandering around alone.

The rest of the class passed without incident but Conway did ask one of the students who was the guy that had left midway through class. Ivan Griegor was his name and Conway decided to check with the rest of the staff if anyone else had seen Ivan around after the next few classes.

After yet another class that he had to look after, it was finally time for recesses but the school was in lockdown. No one was allowed out of the school building especially near the football field where there were apparently some large fissures. Conway had pulled a bit of a lucky draw as he was assigned to patrol the grounds to make sure no one was sneaking out under his watch. He began to wonder if it had been such a good idea to let Ivan go out on his own but these kids were smart. They weren't as dumb as sitcoms or movies made them out to be.

Maybe the kid really did just need to head off and these grey mists he was seeing everywhere was just part of his imagination. Maybe he had just dreamed the whole transforming into a canine beast, some part of his mind trying to cope with the disaster that had struck the town.

Mitchell wandered the school grounds, knowing full well that he was kidding himself with these thoughts. He knew what he had seen and he knew what he had become. Besides, Sam's confession of using sweetener instead of sugar was evidence enough.

He began to panic.

What if Ivan had gotten himself hurt trying to pull some crazy stunt like exploring deep into the fissures? What if he had ventured into the woods and some other beast like Conway had caught him?

His thoughts, however, were interrupted when he noticed that someone was standing next to the football field. Some bright, coloured ribbons had been set up around several cones around the field to warn people from getting into fissures and the area in general. Not that it would deter anyone who was really determined but it would at least make them think twice. Thankfully, the figure was just standing short of stepping over the tape.

"Hey!" Conway exclaimed. "Hey you!"

He hurried towards the guy, hoping it was Ivan. He was disappointed. The man standing there was taller than Ivan's 5'4'' and was dressed in a long, red duster jacket. His hair was also mysteriously white.

The man turned at his voice and offered an easy smile. "Hey," he responded.

"What are you doing here?" Conway demanded, stepping up to the stranger. "You're not a student."

"Just someone passing through," the man answered, holding out his hand. "The name is Mors. Havoc Mors."

Conway didn't take the offered hand. "Right... This school is private property you know. You're trespassing."

"I have permission from your principal."

Conway couldn't detect any lies from the man. In fact, he couldn't detect anything from him. Even when chatting with someone or sitting in a classroom, he could usually see a twinge of anger, anxiety, fear or maybe even a bit of lust here and there. Something teenagers or maybe even normal humans went through normally. But this man was just... unreadable.

"Right... Well, you better stay back," Conway warned. "It's not safe here."

"I have no intention of stepping across the line," he answered, peering back towards the cracks across the football field. It looked like someone had dropped an enormous weight around the 20 yard line and it just broke the ground like a piece of glass. "I've actually been going from epicentre to epicentre, comparing a few notes. It is somewhat curious that each location seems to exhibit similar symptoms. The ground is shattered, buildings smashed if any and large fractures crawling across the ground. But they're never too deep. Barely about ten to fifteen feet below the surface."

Conway gave Havoc a puzzled stare. "What are you? Some sort of investigator? You from the government?"

"One could say that," Havoc responded with a chuckle.

"What... Uh... What did you find in those other places? The epicentres of the earthquakes?"

"Not much. It seemed like ordinary earthquakes despite being so far up north that it is highly unlikely to occur. But the world is a fickle thing, after all." Havoc chuckled softly. "I did find a string of rather strange occurrences after the event though."

Conway's heart froze in his chest. "Strange...?"

"Well, I heard that a whole lacrosse team from this very school went missing Sunday night and were admitted to the psychiatric ward this morning for severe dementia. I also heard that a few people have gone missing though that could easily be just them not responding to calls. Though _apparently_the Tellers and Jenkins both were at attendance in the town meeting on Saturday and but haven't been heard from since. Odd, don't you think?"

"Tellers?" Conway asked. "As in Edward Teller?"

Havoc lifted an eyebrow at him. "You know him?"

"Of him. He's a friend of our football team's water boy. I don't know much else." Something else that made him question Dante's involvement. If Edward went missing was there a correlation between what had happened to Conway and the Tellers' disappearance?

"Pity." Havoc turned back towards the sight of the cracks. "I also heard that there was apparently this big, grey dog that was spotted in the suburbs. Bigger than a man."

Conway tried not to look surprised but his heart seized up like someone had taken it in a vice like grip.

"There are many legends about such big dogs, you know," Havoc continued. "Crossbreeds, spirit animals and, if you believe the latest teenage fiction, werewolves."

He offered a laugh even though his heart had restarted at a fervid pace.

"But if I were to go by the descriptions given to me, I'd have to say that the most likely candidate is actually a Deception Demon."

Though his heart was still racing, Conway went from nervous to confused. "A what now?"

"In some obscure occult references, Deception Demons are painted as canine creatures that appear to have the body of an ape and the head and hands like a canine with eyes that burn like coal. Apparently, they are people who have constantly lied and cheated throughout their lives. At first glance, they appear to be apes but when you get closer, they are clearly something more. A suitable hunting technique, don't you think? They have the mobility of an ape, the keen senses of a canine and the strength of both. Their fur is always some shade of grey simply because deception by its very nature is a grey area. You could lie about a surprise birthday party just as you can lie about a dead body."

"Riiiiiiight..." Conway tried to sound sceptical but he was really drinking in every word.

"I know it's unbelievable but given all the strange things happening, I'm willing to believe anything, aren't you?" There was a strange twinkle in the stranger's yellow eyes. "Anyway, Deception Demons are apparently like the hunters of Hell. Damned and condemned lie after all. These hunt them down, sniffing out their lies and desperate attempts to keep themselves out of eternal damnation. When they have their prey, they either drag them down to Hell or change them into demons just like themselves. Apparently, the longer you lie, the more likely it is you'll be changed." Havoc shoved his hands into his pockets and turned away from the disaster scene. "I wonder what the better fate would be: turn into a demon or burn in Hell."

The stranger began walking away. "Well, it was certainly nice meeting you. Keep things honest. There might be demons about."

Conway offered another nervous laugh and watched the mysterious man go. His mind raced. Was that what he had become? A Deception Demon? Just thinking about it made his skin crawl but the more he thought about it, the more likely it seemed. He could taste and even read people's lies and he had turned into a big, grey dog...

He shivered, suddenly feeling very cold.

Never a religious man, Conway had never really given much thought to what would happen in the afterlife. However, Virgil's death compounded with his sudden transformation started making him wonder... If he was a demon, where would he go if and when he died? Would he automatically default to the infernos of Hell? Or would he get a chance to redeem his immortal soul.

Maybe he was deluding himself again but Conway didn't want to just lie down and accept his fate. This was not something he asked for. Just like when he had that knee injury, it was something he could've entirely prevent. He spent years chasing a dream but Virgil had brought him back down to earth. On that same vein, he was not going to chase some idle fantasy that he was still human.

He was a demon now.

But he still had a chance to redeem himself.

And he could start by finding Ivan Griegor.

Conway reached into the pocket of his pants and retrieved the crumpled note that Ivan had given him. It still radiated with lies and deceit. He brought it to his nose and took a big, long sniff. The scent was incredible and overwhelmingly delicious. It was a subtle blend of the finest cooked steak cooked in rich, velvety red wine; a perfect balance of the two. His mouth watered just taking it in and his body shuddered.

A growl rippled from his throat. He could feel the hairs all over his body starting to thicken into fur and his shirt already starting to tear. Changing out in the open was not an option especially if Havoc was still nearby. Curbing his desires, he hurried towards the football field, particularly the locker rooms. Much to his dismay, the lockers had been toppled over and it was generally a mess. The amount of money that would need to go into repairing it all would be monumental.

Those worries had to be shelved. He made sure no one was following him and stepped into the locker rooms. Stripping off his clothing was somewhat difficult as his body was eager to shift back into its immense, feral form and he had to admit to getting aroused at the thought of taking on that shape once more. He grunted as his legs began to shift. He had to hop onto one of the benches to wrench his shoes off. He didn't get time to take off his socks before his big, paws erupted from them, black claws tearing the fabric to shreds.

Conway yanked off his shorts and underwear before he tore through them and tossed them aside. He then fell on all fours, still clutching the crumpled note in his hand. His entire body shuddered madly as steely grey fur spread all over his body. He pushed the note towards his lips, taking long, deep breaths through his mouth as he consumed the deceit embedded into the forgery. His hands quaked as they shifted into big paws and he dropped the note.

He stifled a roar. The change was faster than last time but it was just as pleasurable. His cock pulsed and grew madly, throbbing its way up his chest, taking on the familiar canine shape and spewing thick, grey precum all over the floor. Even as every inch of his body demanded that he bask in the pleasure, he fought to keep control of himself and rode the changes even as it changed his features and twisted in into the broad, square features of a canine.

Conway shuddered as the last bits of his human shape were absorbed into the form of a Deception Demon. He wagged the little nub of a tail that just above his finely shaped rump and panted heavily. He wanted to get off _so_badly and it took all of his strength to lean down and sniff at the note one more time. The grey mist had all but vanished. Its scent, however, was still in his nose and its taste on his tongue.

He padded out of the locker rooms and lifted his nose to the air, sniffing instinctively.

There were a surprisingly large number of lies flitting about the school and he picked up on most of it. Some jock was boasting about how many girls he slept with despite being a virgin. One of his colleagues made some things about the civil war to appear knowledgeable despite being a biology teacher by trade. He filtered them all out, resisting the temptation to consume it all.

Ivan's scent radiated from deep within the woods surrounding the school. What he was doing there was the question. Perhaps he knew a shortcut back home but given that he lied about the note, Conway sincerely doubted the high school senior was doing anything benign.

He raced towards the source of the scent, already used to running using his new enormous body. With his senses so much more keen than before and his body the perfect blend of bulk and nimbleness, he was able to slip and jump over the foliage of Angelton's forests with ease. It was actually quite a nice feeling to have the wind rushing through his fur.

Ivan's scent became diluted, however, mixed with the auras of others. The taste also changed. The sweetness of the red wine began to fade as more emphasis was put on the meatiness. Far from unpleasant, Conway was still curious as to what caused the sudden shift. It wasn't long before he saw a clearing up ahead.

He slowed his pace and favoured stealth over speed, quietly padding towards the clearing where the aura of deceit was thickest. His keen ears picked up voices, high exaggerated for either higher pitches or deeper baritones.

"Take that Zandalor the Wicked!"

"No! My one weakness! How did you ever retrieve the Benevolent Sanctuary Spell!?"

Conway tilted his head to the side. "What the...?"

He poked his head through a nearby bush and lifted his eyebrows.

At the centre of the clearing, five young men stood, Ivan amongst them. All of them were dressed in rather fantastical clothing including billowing robes, capes and even some sort of armour made to look like a knight's suit of armour but really made of well-crafted papier-mâché. They also wielded what appeared to be rather extravagant weapons carefully hand crafted but by no means truly dangerous... unless they were to be used as clubs.

"Fools!" Ivan shouted, dressed in black robes decorated with golden runes that Conway was pretty sure weren't real. "The Benevolent Sanctuary Spell requires a heart of true good to fully work!" He let out a deep, overly dramatic laugh. "I sense the taint of evil within each of you else I would have already been obliterated!"

"That's impossible!" shouted the guy dressed like a knight. Conway sampled his aura, grunting softly as his cock began to rise from its sheath. The slightly rounded kid's name was Timothy. "My heart is pure! I have been sanctified by the Holy Light!"

"And yet you broke your vow of celibacy to bed that bar wench that you felt pity for," Ivan boomed. His eyes turned to the other player who was dressed in a cowl and cape. "And you. You delude yourself with tales of heroism but you are still a rogue at heart! You cannot erase your sins from the past!"

"No! No!" shouted Rodney, dropping his plastic daggers and clutching his head dramatically. They were really getting into the show. "I have changed! I am a better man!"

Again, Ivan laughed and rose from his kneeling position. "And lastly... The dear priest of the Light. Tell me that your lust for that little altar boy no longer grips your heart."

Davies, the last of the 'heroes' suddenly dropped his arms and regarded Ivan incredulously. "Really? A gay priest joke? Come on dude. We're in the magical land of Inverien. You seriously can't be brining modern issues there."

Ivan rolled his eyes. "Why not? It makes the scenario more relatable."

"Uh... no it doesn't," said Andrew from where he was standing beside Ivan. "It just breaks the pacing."

"Shut up, Kirromon. My Champion doesn't speak unless I allow it."

Davies shook his head and began taking off the robes he was wearing revealing a set of casual clothes beneath. "Dude, you ruined the scene. I don't think I can keep going."

"Oh come on!" Ivan pleaded. "Fine! No gay priest joke! The darkness in your heart can be something else! You're privy to confessionals, right? You're guilty over some of the stuff you've heard!"

Davies shook his head and headed towards the edge of the clearing where several bags were set down. The others followed him, all but Ivan. They all began packing their belongings. The grey aura of deception around them suddenly made more sense. It wasn't true deception. It was self-imposed delusion. They were lying to themselves, escaping to a fantasy realm to avoid their problems.

Suddenly, Conway felt a sort of... kinship with them. He too had been caught in a fantasy land once and let it consume him. Just by looking at Ivan, he saw that the young man was in very much the same boat. Though his aura changed into one of desperation, he could tell that it was the strings of deception that was pulling his limbs. It was an addiction to him. The more he got to escape, the more he wanted to stay in that world.

It was... really sad.

"Come on guys!" Ivan pleaded.

"Dude, we already skipped school," Rodney said. "This was nice and you were right. Helped us forget about the shit that happened on the weekend but I wanna go home."

"But - But -!"

"Adventure's over for now, Ivan," Timothy said, pulling his bag onto his shoulders. "Go home. Your parents are probably worried."

With that, the four friends began heading back through the woods, leaving poor Ivan alone in the clearing.

"Well fine then!" Ivan shouted. "I can LARP without you guys!" He huffed loudly and stormed over to his belongings. The robes were exchanged for a rather ridiculous set of 'armour' that only covered his upper chest but the lower half of the costume had been painted to look like a finely sculpted set of abdominals. Ivan even discarded his pants in exchange for a pair of shorts. He took out a ridiculously large plastic sword that even he had trouble carrying.

"Forget Grimdor the Nether Warlock." Ivan beamed at no one in particular. "I am -"

"Rexard the Werewolf Warrior," Conway rumbled, stepping out of the bushes. Ivan instantly froze at the sight of him. "Bitten as a child, your first transformation killed your mother and turned your father against you. He caged you up and you would have been burned at the stake had it not been for a passing monk who took you into his guidance and taught you how to cope with your curse. Though you still go wild ever month, you have learned how to restrain yourself and make sure that when you do change, you harm no one."

"Holy shit!" Ivan cried, dropping his blade instantly. "Oh fuck!"

He turned to flee but Conway instantly bolted towards him. As a demon, Conway crossed the distance between them in half a second and stood menacingly over the young man. Ivan tumbled back, whimpering loudly as he stared up at the enormous, demonic dog over him.

"You're living a lie, Ivan," Conway rumbled. "Running away into this fantasy world every time you feel like you can't deal with the troubles of the world is only ignoring the problems. You have to face them. You have to find solutions you can achieve instead of fantasising about solutions Rexard or Grimdor would use."

Ivan's courage suddenly came back and though he didn't have the strength to stand, he stared defiantly at Conway. "Who the fuck do you think you are? And come to think of it, what the hell are you?"

Conway placed a big paw against Ivan's chest, the entire appendage big enough the cover Ivan's entire upper torso. "I am here to help you stop lying to yourself." He leaned down, his big fangs just an inch away from Ivan's forehead. There was a lot of fear and a little bit of pride within Ivan's aura but the lie that Ivan had ingrained into himself was rooted deep into the young man's soul. It filled his entire essence and would never be extinguished... unless Conway did something about it.

"When you take away the lie, there can be only truth," he rumbled. "See the world through your eyes not those of characters you've made up."

He opened his jaws and Ivan instantly looked away, shielding his face with his hands. Conway drew big, long breath, sucking the delusion that permeated Ivan's very essence into his mouth. He couldn't deny that the meal was extremely delicious, a little meatier than the delicate balance that he had earlier but it filled him up, giving him the best meal he had in ages. It also made him quite horny and his dick began rumbling as it emerged from his sheath.

Ivan arched his back, his chest rising towards Conway like his heart was being yanked out of him. He let out a pained cry. The delusion was ingrained deep into him was so thick that as Conway drew more and more of it towards him with stronger force, it started to manifest as a thick, grey cloud. The cloud sprang from Ivan's neck, forcing the skin to peel and split. There was no blood strangely enough even as bare muscle could be seen beneath.

He didn't want to shock Ivan with a crushing reality so he left some of that delusion behind, just enough for him to recognise that he was living a lie. Conway pulled his jaws away and stepped back away from Ivan. The young man just lay on the ground, staring up at the sky with stunned eyes. Perhaps the near-death experience and the sudden loss of his delusion with set him right. As he continued to breathe, the tear against his neck began to close rapidly, forming an odd scar similar to the one Conway had against his arm. It formed an almost wing-shaped pattern spreading across the back of his neck.

Conway bolted out of the clearing before Ivan could sit up or cry out to him. It felt good to help the kid out. Of course, only time will tell if what he did worked but he could sense that Ivan could only grow from the experience. That he actually started to feel full for once and that he was sporting a hell of a semi only added to the experience.

He smiled to himself.

Maybe there was a way to save his soul after all.

******

Only when lunch time came did Dante feel the crushing weight of Edward's absence. With only one real friend, he was left alone to his own thoughts. Eating his lunch never felt so... depressing before. Usually, it was a brief reprieve from all the knowledge and graduation mantras that were being thrown at him over and over again from every direction. But now...

Dante sighed and regarded the big sub sandwich that Russ had packed for them. Apparently, there was a lot of negativity that came with cured meats as well. It wasn't bad enough that the animal was butchered but that they were processed with chemicals and then shredded into slices only seemed to exemplify the pain and suffering the poor things had. Dante swore that if he ever became human again, he'd become a vegan.

Sadly, he had no choice but to consume the sandwich and he sort of hated himself because it felt so good. Every bite he took was instantly metabolised into his corruption carrying cum and he could feel his balls swelling. On top of that, the negative emotions filled his system and gave him the energy to keep going through the day. Not that he wasn't already brimming with energy but even Mr. Hathoway's history lectures could put a demon to sleep.

In an effort to ignore the crushing loneliness, Dante picked up his grandfather's journal and opened it.

'Chapter 7: Deception.

'The Deception Dome, like the rest of Hell, was not what I expected a plane that prized deceit and lies. Indeed, it did have a dome but it was situated at the centre of the entire plane, a glimmering crystal clear edifice that could be seen from every corner of the realm. Within, there was a sprawling market where 'truths' were sold. Where deception is the norm, truth is the currency. All around the dome were homes and shady markets one would expect from a ghetto suburb but within the Dome, everything was alight and shining like... well, like Las Vegas.

'You may be wondering what I mean by people selling 'truths'. Well, suffice to say that in the realm of deceit, truth is a most prized commodity. H2 told me that it was often difficult to tell what was a lie and what wasn't as the realm spawned liars and even encouraged it. This brings me to the great Deception Demon that I was supposed to challenge. You see, the Deception Demons aren't the prevalent species in the Dome. Rather, they are the most powerful as they can tell when something is a truth and when something is a lie. They act as the realm's enforcers and from what I heard, they chase down any would-be escapees of Hell and drag them back or transform those who impress them into Deception Demons like themselves.'

"Skipping ahead again?"

Dante jumped as Flash parked himself beside Dante, both of them sitting against the far wall of the campus. Like him, Flash was munching on his sandwich.

"Shouldn't you be with your football buddies or something?" Dante asked, a little puzzled.

"You're a football buddy," Flash replied simply.

"I'm the water boy."

"Still part of the team." Flash looked over his shoulder. "Reading up on deception now?"

Dante looked at the book forlornly. "Grandpa skips around a lot. Back and forth. I tried reading Jealousy next since it was the next chapter but grandpa occasionally mentioned Superior and Pride and it reminded me of Edward."

Flash was silent for a moment but Dante could feel his mate's eyes on him. "So who's the big bad guy in this place?"

Glad that the topic was dropped, Dante continued to read.

'The leader of the Deception Demons was known as the Underdog. All truths and all lies fed into him and he dispatched his troops to enforce some arbitrary laws that he had made up. Like the other kings of Hell, he was a monumental creature and a paragon of his kind. I sometimes wonder if the reason H2 brought us to the Ascent of Arrogance first was because some of these demon kings fed on their pride for being so powerful.'

Dante winced but kept on reading.

'Underdog gave us his challenge. I was to lie to him and I had to convince him of it. For a Deception Demon, such a feat was impossible. Or so I thought. But more on that later. I took a gamble simply said 'This statement is a lie'. As you know, that is a paradox. It is both a truth and a lie but cannot be both. Underdog just laughed at me. I had failed his challenge. Russ looked at him in horror and tried to fight off the Deception Demons but, once again, H2 had vanished and we were outnumbered and outgunned.

'And so, Underdog took us to the stockade...'

Dante shut the book.

"You're gonna stop there?" Flash asked. "It was just getting good."

"I know but..." Dante took a deep breath and sighed. "I know what's coming next. Grandpa is probably gonna get fucked or changed into a Deception Demon and he'll like it. He'll be horny. Russ will be horny. Sexy times will happen." He shook his head to clear it. "I don't think I could stand that here."

Flash snickered. "Fair point." He sighed and rested his head back up against the brick wall. "Man, never knew so many people had so many troubles. They're all so... negative. I mean, I nearly shredded my pants when I passed the emo crowd. Even the guys on the team seem so... freaked and self-conscious. It's like a fucking buffet."

Dante bit back a snappy remark about dreadful it must be to have friends that were troubled by teen angst. If Flash noticed his little spark of anger, jealousy and despair, he didn't show it. Instead, he just continued to eat his sandwich obviously. Dante tried to clear his head and took a deep, long breath in a desperate attempt to get some fresh air. Here in the back of the school, there was barely anyone around and that allowed him to breathe.

However, that only meant that he caught Flash's aura easier.

"What are you worried about?" he asked.

Flash gave him a startled look. "Worried? Who says I'm worried? We covered the fact that my immortal soul is likely gonna go to Hell and I might just like it there." He licked his lips. "Fuck, I don't mean to brag but fucking that stuck up prick Zander was pretty awesome..."

Dante caught the deceit in Flash's voice even without looking at his aura. "Dude, you can't lie to me. We're hellhounds, remember?"

The taller boy grimaced and turned away, rubbing the back of his neck absently. "Can... Can you not call me 'dude'? It's what friend say to one another."

His heart sank to an even lower pit, something he didn't think possible. "And I guess we aren't friends..."

"We're mates," Flash responded bashfully. His cheeks were burning bright red. "I... I don't know what that means exactly. I mean, I can't say I _love_you on human terms but..."

"In hellhound terms?"

Flash growled and rolled his eyes. "Look. I always thought you were kind of sexy. Even before all this happened. That thing between us that night? It wasn't just because of the pendant." He pointed at the necklace that Dante wore. "Well... maybe it was but it didn't make me do something I wasn't already thinking of."

"You were thinking about sleeping with me?" Dante asked incredulously.

Flash hushed him, nervously glancing around to make sure no one heard him. "I had you lying in my bed next to me. We were watching TV. It's like the first step to being a married couple."

He gave his mate another dubious look. "Exactly what is your definition of a married couple?"

"I don't know!" Flash growled. "My mom left us and my dad is barely home. I sort of based my perception of what a family is based on what my nannies taught me and even they weren't married." He grumbled softly to himself. "I guess I don't really know what it means to be with someone..."

Dante gave Flash a light tap on the shoulder with the back of his hand. "What're you talking about? You've been with lots of girls."

"I've been on dates. I've never done more than give them a hug." He tapped the side of his head. "My nannies always told me to wait. Find the right girl and not to rush things like all those high school dramas. I was..."

"A good boy?" Dante teased with a devilish grin. "Did you want a cookie? Are you going to wag your tail for me if I call you a good boy?" He reached forward and ran his hand over Flash's abdomen. "You want a belly rub?"

Flash snapped at him, actually flashing his teeth and growling. "I'm being serious here!" He pulled back. "And a scratch behind my ears would be nice... but after_we're out of school." The big football player took a deep breath and sighed. "Look, Dick was always the wild child. Flint was rebellious. I'm the good kid; the golden child. I did everything my dad wanted of me. I got into high school football, got good grades, have a clean record and never did drugs. I guess part of that is _definitely not getting a girl pregnant while I'm in high school so I've never done anything to prevent that."

Dante couldn't help but feel a little bit of pity for Flash. Whether he liked it or not, Flash was forced to be the apple of his father's eye. He couldn't fathom what drove him to such a situation. Perhaps it was the disproving stares Buck Goldman gave Dick or the quiet disgust he threw at Flint and the desire not to be on the receiving end of such venomous glares. Dante wished he could know more...

Although...

He narrowed his gaze at Flash, focusing his eyes on his mate who was looking forlornly at his big feet. Had anyone been looking at him closely, they would've seen his eyes turn black and his irises glow a bright green. The blue of fear and black of despair melded with one another to form a rather bleak picture. Dante tried to read the myriad of hues and shades and found something interesting.

There amidst the sapphires hues and navy blues, he found a green of jealousy. Curious, he focused on it and found that it was directed at him. Flash was jealous of him. There was a brief memory ingrained in that envy; that moment when Dante had hugged his father the night after the earthquakes. It was a moment that Flash compared with his own encounter with his father who hadn't even said anything to him. Only Flint had come to comfort him.

"What are you doing?" Flash asked.

Dante blinked and quickly shook his head, shifting his eyes back to their human colours. "Um... nothing."

"I can tell you're lying." Flash narrowed his gaze at him. Dante sat there, still against his mate's gaze. Strangely, Flash's eyes didn't change colour. "What are you hiding?"

Dante tilted his head to the side. "You can't tell?"

"I can tell you're hiding something but not what. Why? Can you?"

Lifting his eyebrows, Dante said, "Well... yeah, sort of. I can tell you're really bummed about your confession. You hate that you've become this thing your father wanted you to become and you're also a little scared that you're now a..." Dante struggled for the right words. "...a real dog and you're afraid your dad may not like it." He wondered if he should reveal what else he learned and decided that if he was going to have a mate, he might as well be honest with him. "And that you're jealous of me."

"What!?" Flash snarled, snapping his teeth again. "Why would I be jealous of you!?"

It was a defensive mechanism, that much Dante could tell without focusing his demon vision. "Because I have a dad that loves me and yours gives you the cold shoulder all the time... Like nothing you ever do will ever be good enough for him even though you've done everything right."

Flash's anger faded and he collapsed back beside Dante. "Fuck... And you make for a better hellhound too..."

"You're stronger," Dante said with a faint smile. "I mean, you fought in that ring for several matches. I was stuck behind a cage eating."

Those words brought a smile to Flash's face and all the anger, despair and fear began to fade. Whether the two boys did so consciously or not, their hands migrated towards one another, their fingers intertwining.

"This shit really is pretty messed up..." Flash chuckled.

"I suppose it is." Dante sighed softly as the bell rang, beckoning them back to class. "I suppose it is."

******

School finished and the students began filing out and heading towards the buses. Conway was assigned as one of those watching the front doors to ensure that no one did anything stupid, teacher and student alike. He tried to look as stern as possible but he was feeling positively ecstatic over what he had done. Changing back into a human was as simple as locking himself in his office during lunch and trying not to think about who else he could help, thus killing his boner. It was hard especially since he had now associated the consumption of deception with unbridled arousal.

As the students passed him, he could see hundreds of lies flitting about, ingrained deep into fresh, young souls or hanging around them like spectres. It was like a buffet and he was getting hard just thinking about it. Years of discipline, however, had taught him how to reign himself in and after a while, he could stand beside the school's front gates without having to adjust himself subtly.

But there was a few big bundles of deception that he simply could not ignore.

One of them came from Tristian Ramez.

The handsome young man was on the senior track team so Conway knew him quite well. He once asked Tristian if he was interested in joining the football team as a wide receiver but Tristian insisted he wanted to keep his slim figure and didn't want to bulk up. Young Latino had a short, brown hair, almost a buzz cut really that belied his rather lax attitude. He wore a seashell necklace around his neck and several colourful bands around his wrists. His athletic frame was usually barely covered despite the cold of Angelton and today, he wore a tank top and a pair of three-quarter cut-off shorts. Many would've taken him to be a lazy surfer but Tristian admitted that he didn't know how to swim. He apparently came from somewhere further north where Angelton was actually much warmer.

Go figure.

Tristian was also one of the few openly gay guys in the school. In fact, he had been dating Daniel Crosse for most of the year. The two took two separate bus routes though. They weren't ashamed of their relationship and gave each other a long kiss in front of Daniel's bus. Daniel, a tall, blonde senior just like Tristian beamed at him and skipped towards his bus. Tristian waved and watched the bus go but each little shake of his wrist somehow thickened his aura of deceit.

Conway remembered being awed at how their relationship had lasted through the year despite the stigma that came with being homosexual in such a small town. But now that he saw it through a demon's eyes, he was starting to have doubts.

Tristian headed towards his bus, aware that Conway was keeping his eyes firmly placed on the young man. When the bus left, Conway abandoned his post. Most of the kids had already left anyway so he was free to quickly bolt into the forest and strip off his clothing. All he had to do was think of the fantasy land that Ivan had created for himself and Conway was already shifting back into his demonic form. He fell onto all fours heavily and grunted as his enormous prick throbbed with need. Sometime today, he would definitely need to whack one off but for the moment, he needed to chase down his prey.

It was easy to find Tristian's scent. Its flavour was a bit... strong on the wine side. Whereas Ivan's was very beefy and meaty tasting, Tristian's seemed more like a red wine casserole than a steak with a sauce made with wine. There were layers of flavour that seemed to overpower the beef and it had a _very_strong scent.

Conway found himself bolting through the forest parallel to Tristian's bus, amazed at his own ability to keep up with the bright yellow vehicle. With so many trees around, he was forced to start leaping from trunk to trunk, adding to his momentum and speed. His claws were surprisingly well adapted to clinging onto surfaces and he felt a little like a wild jungle man as zoomed through the forest.

As usual, the bus stopped in front of Angelton Grammar where it would off any students who had to pick up brothers or sisters. It was against school policy for one bus to pick up students from another bus so all the driver could do was drop off a few kids who would then make their way back home using public transport.

He hid in the bushes away from the school and perked his ears when he noticed Tristian was stepping out of the bus. As far as he knew, Tristian was an only child. Could that be the deception? He was too far to truly discern the truth and there were too many people around with their own little lies to get a clear view.

But he didn't need to wait long.

As soon as the bus drove off, Tristian met a slightly taller, dark skinned man with the build of a football player and wore the letterman jacket of Angelton Grammar's football team. The two strode off towards the parking lot where they both jumped into a dark blue car. From where he stood, Conway could clearly see the two leaning close to one another and engaging in a passionate kiss.

He couldn't believe his eyes.

Tristian Ramez was cheating on Daniel Crosse!

Conway wasn't sure if he should be drooling or appalled. Someone would end up getting hurt, however. With this being Tristian's final year, he would be forced to choose between his two lovers and that would only end in heartbreak. He had to put a stop to it; get Tristian to drop the lie and stop stringing these two guys along.

Determined and ignoring the growling his balls made, he bolted through the woods after Tristian's mysterious lover's car. It was very simple to keep up with the small sedan even as he had to dodge and weave between trees as he ran parallel to the road. As he watched Tristian from between the trees, he could see the young man shamelessly caressing his beefy lover. It disgusted him that there was no amount of shame and he couldn't believe he had ever considered such a slime ball to be part of his team.

He was already starting to make plans on how best to deal with Tristian when they started to enter the town of Angelton. Conway knew he couldn't just bolt through the streets in his current form and he had left his clothes all the way back at the school. He had, however, grown up in Angelton and only briefly left to pursue his failed football career. He knew a few back alleys that would hide him as he continued his pursuit.

Tristian's aura was not hard to track. It was like an immense pillar of grey fire that stuck out between the shops and buildings of Angelton. An overpowering trail of deceit marked his passage all the way towards Angelton's suburban area. There, it became a little harder to keep up with the little liar. The suburbs had grown over the years with new areas popping up here and there as families moved to the quiet town to settle down. Plus the homes were pits of deception from the teenaged boy masturbating in secret in his room to the 16 year old girl who had to rush her older boyfriend out the back before her parents found out. He even saw a few husbands and wives cheating on one another once even to the same woman.

But Tristian certainly had a unique taste and as he tracked the cheater to a particular suburb, he hid behind a large, well-trimmed bush to spy on the two. The footballer dropped Tristian off in front of a large, two storey house with a jeep out front. The two gave one another a tender kiss before Tristian got up. However, before the footballer could head off again, Tristian lunged at him once more and gave him one hell of a goodbye with a passionate kiss and a lewd grope. Then Tristian pulled away, gave his 'boyfriend' a wink and sauntered up the driveway.

A cheater and a tease.

Conway was getting more and more disgusted by the minute. Despite that, his cock was simply aching. When he peered downwards between his legs, could see his dick a good few inches out of his sheath and ready to burst.

"Fuck..." he rumbled.

Would he be justified if he mounted Tristian as a form of punishment for cheating on two guys at the same time?

He watched his student knock on the door of the house from across the street. The question of why anyone would knock to enter their own house was just_passing through his mind when that very same door sprang open. On the other side was a big, tall, gruff man dressed in just a pair of tan khaki pants and smoking a cigar. His skin was a cool tan and simply rippling with muscles beneath his chiselled chest and thick, grey chest hair. The man looked _nothing like Tristian especially with his blonde hair that was grey at the temples.

"'bout time you showed up soldier," growled the man.

Tristian suddenly snapped to attention, clicking his heels together and giving a firm salute. "Sir! Sorry sir!"

The man grinned at him, a lewd flash in his blue eyes. "Get in here."

If Tristian had a tail, it would've been wagging. Strangely, the aura of deception around him ebbed and almost faded entirely. Whatever Tristian was feeling towards this older man, it was real. They entered the house, shutting the door behind them.

Both curious and a little horny, Conway leapt out of the bush and hurried towards the man's home. Despite his quadrupedal stance, he leapt easily over the back fence, landing within the man's backyard. The grass was neatly trimmed and there was a pool in the back as well though really no one swam in Angelton. It was just too damn cold even during the summer. As he made his way around the house, he noticed several pieces of workout equipment set up in the backyard beneath a large veranda with a cheap plastic cover hanging from the edges of the roof to protect it from the rain and weather.

He gently and quietly pushed aside the plastic curtain and stepped onto the veranda. The wood creaked beneath his weight and he winced, keeping his ears perked for any signs of trouble. Much to his relief, no one came rushing out to see what the sound was. Each step was met with a groan of protest from the wood beneath him but still no one came to investigate.

He made his way towards the glass sliding door and peered around the corner. The room beyond appeared to be a bedroom with a large king sized bed sitting at the centre. Decorations were rather Spartan. Dresser, bedside table, lamp and little else. Not even a desk. Though the reason for that soon became evident.

Tristian and the older male entered the room, Tristian marching stiffly inside before spinning on his heel and giving the man a salute.

"You were late today, soldier," growled the man.

"Sir! I'm sorry, sir!" Tristian barked. Though he tried to keep a stiff face, his lips were curling upwards into a smile. "The school was taking extra precautions and we left a little late, sir!"

"I don't want excuses, soldier." The man took a deep puff from his cigar and blew the smoke right into Tristian's face. He took the necklace around Tristian's neck in one big, meaty hand. "I thought I told you not to wear this hippy crap in my presence, maggot?"

Tristian quivered whether from excitement or fear, Conway couldn't really tell. Though his aura was no longer the grey of deception, the very walls _screamed_lies. Just from what he could glean, whatever happened in this room was extremely forbidden and he could already guess as to what it was. He felt a little guilty that it actually made him hard. The overbearing, masculine figure barking orders at him, making him feel inferior and forcing him to do things where he had no choice but to obey... it brought him back to his days in high school when he was under the command of the then-football-coach. His new body came with some bizarre emotions and that tough-guy attitude the coach threw in his face was clearly a farce and that just made him horny.

He could tell that the big guy was putting on the same charade, that he was hiding his emotions. That level of deceptions just made Conway's mouth water and his cock rock hard, dripping with precum all over the veranda. He tried to focus, tried to understand what was going on but his dick was begging louder and louder for attention that it was becoming very hard.

"Sergeant Collins, I -" Tristian began.

But the big supposed military man tore the necklace right off Tristian's neck with a hard yank and tossed it aside. There was a flash of fear in Tristian's eyes even as his cock grew hard in his shorts. Collins pushed the young man onto the bed, the teenager toppling into the sheets with a cry. He put up no resistance whatsoever even as Collins crawled on top of him and blew another plume of grey smoke into his face.

Conway bit back a moan. He had never considered himself gay before but just seeing the façade that Collin's put and the lies Tristian began concocting for having lost the necklace that Daniel had given him just was too irresistible. He found his paw over his dick and he was barely keeping himself upright against the wall as he watched the scene unfold.

Collins leaned down towards Tristian's lips, his hot breath wafting into the young teenager's ears. He pulled his cigar out from between his lips and pressed the still smouldering end against Tristian's shoulder. The teenager let out a cry caught between pleasure and pain, arching his back while his eyelids fluttered. "Disobey me again," Collins whispered dangerously into the eager ear, "and you'll get more than that."

Lies began sweeping through Tristian's mind as to how he would explain the cigar burn and Collins' own deception burned like a big, grey pyre. Conway grunted but it was covered by the sounds of clothes ripping as Collins tore Tristian's tank top right off. Tristian was all too eager to reach for his shorts and start to wiggle out of them but his big, dominating master was too impatient and ripped them off as well. Tristian's seven inch dick throbbed with need and Collins grinned at seeing his prize.

Their little game seeped into Conway's waiting mouth and he drank it all in. The demon's body shuddered as he turned the delicious meal into information that he could interpret. With every breath, more and more of his precum poured out of the tip of his massive dick. Images flashed before his eyes, his eyelids flickering.

Tristian started working for Jessie Collins, a former military sergeant now retired and living off the support the military offered. Collins initially needed his lawn mowed and Tristian was looking for a part time job. At the time, the young teenager was just a meagre 16 years of age but he was already quite handsome and the reason for Collins' discharge soon became evident when the former sergeant began working out in front of Tristian while he mowed the lawn every few weeks or so. Tristian was caught staring every now and then.

Eventually, Collins invited Tristian to do a few more bits of... house work just to keep him around like cleaning the pool, gardening and other busy work. Their relationship grew into something it really shouldn't have and they spent time together, innocently at first but then it grew. Two years later, when Tristian was finally legally of age, they took their relationship to the next level.

Conway shuddered and grunted in time with Collins pushing his dick into young Tristian. He understood why Tristian felt no shame over leading two other boys on from his own age group. They were just his cover. If someone suspected he was cheating on one or the other, they'd hit his cover. They would _never_suspect that he was having carnal and pure relations with a former military sergeant who was honourably and quietly discharged for being gay.

So many layers of lies, such a rich flavour. Something in Conway's mind associated the near-overpowering taste of red wine in the aura with the complexity of the deception Tristian and Collins had wrapped themselves in. They were hiding something from others and themselves and that only added to the spicy-sweet of the wine. In comparison, he remembered Ivan's beefy aura. There was no subtly there and it was just a blatant delusion.

And he began to understand.

Complexity in the lie added to the wine taste.

Bluntness made the taste meatier.

Conway was inadvertently drooling, thick droplets of his saliva falling onto his enormous dick, lubricating it for his paw. He was lost in Tristian and Collins' lies, eagerly devouring it to the point where he lifted it from their consciousness, forcing them to focus entirely on their passionate lovemaking. The two within the room became unrestrained beasts that made sweet, loud love, causing the bed to creak beneath their weight and the room to fill with their lusty cries.

Neither of them noticed as their deceit took on physical shape and began springing out of their bodies in the shape of a thick, grey cloud. For Collins, his muscular back arched while he ploughed Tristian. The skin tore across the muscular ridges, his deception pouring out in a dense, grey miasma. With Tristian who lay on his back his legs curled around Collins' waist, his ass was the target of his escaping lies. He gave a cry as there was a moment of pain but mixed with the immeasurable pleasure of Collins' dick in his ass, it faded into the sexual haze. The room filled with the grey murk, slipping through the windows and pouring deep into Conway's throat.

The big Deception Demon could barely hold it in anymore and was ready to burst. Only the faintest semblance of self-control allowed him to wrench his paw from his throbbing dick and devour the rest of his meal. His entire body shuddered from the effort of reigning himself in and in doing so, forced his demonic cells to metabolise the energy he had just consumed instead of launching it onto the veranda as corruptive spunk. As a result, his entire body began to grow. An extra foot of height was added to his already impressive size, his arms and legs thickening to compensate and hold up his weight. His lower jaw jutted out farther than the rest of his muzzle. The two lower canines grew rapidly, becoming like two white tusks. Perhaps most startlingly, the dagger-shaped scar on his arm began to grow. The raised knot of flesh spread, becoming more intricate with delicate lines appearing all over the blade of the dagger. At the same time, vine-like curls crawled all over his upper arm, spreading madly, forming curls and concentric circles that made a dizzying almost mesmerising pattern. It spread all over his right arm, covering the limb entirely and spreading just a little across his back.

Conway drained the last of the deception and shook his head free of the lustful thoughts pooling in his mind. He was in no condition to help these two yet. He was horny as fuck and needed to get off badly. Though it was difficult to walk with a tremendous three foot boner hanging between his legs, he somehow managed to sneak away from Collins' house. He climbed onto the rooftop of the home, using his long arms to good use. He didn't even doubt himself as he leapt from rooftop to rooftop, barley making a noise.

This hadn't been a productive session.

He needed to control himself better if he was going to save these people from their lies.

Little did he know that both Collins and Tristian reached orgasm and let out an ear-splitting cry as they both collapsed onto the bed in what was the most amazing sex they had ever had. The scars on Collins' back healed immediately, forming a strange symmetrical array of rings and arcane runes. Similarly, the same scars healed around Tristian's ass but neither man noticed them as they fell into each other's arms and drifted off into slumber.

---

Deceit

_ _

'You may be wondering what I mean by people selling 'truths'. Well, suffice to say that in the realm of deceit, truth is a most prized commodity. H2 told me that it was often difficult to tell what was a lie and what wasn't as the realm spawned liars and even encouraged it. This brings me to the great Deception Demon that I was supposed to challenge. You see, the Deception Demons aren't the prevalent species in the Dome. Rather, they are the most powerful as they can tell when something is a truth and when something is a lie. They act as the realm's enforcers and from what I heard, they chase down any would-be escapees of Hell and drag them back or transform those who impress them into Deception Demons like themselves.'

---

It was only about an hour and a half since school ended that Conway made it back to Angelton Boys' High School. He was a furious at himself for losing control back with Tristian and Collins. That rage was enough to cause his erection to ebb and slide back into his plump sheath. Still, he felt terribly guilty had having feasted on the lies that surrounded those two without doing anything to help them. For the first time since his transformation, he actually _felt_like a demon; a parasite that was feeding off the emotions of others and not giving back anything in return.

He sulked quietly amongst the trees while he waited for his body to get the message and turn him back into a human. There was a degree of peace and serenity in the woods surrounding the school so he was somewhat content to just sit there and wait; letting the beauty and peace seem into his being and quell the raging, hungry beast that was pulling at his soul.

At long last, his body began to change back and he let out a sigh as the big, grey demon faded back into the human. It was with disgust that he noticed the scars all over his right arm. The knotted flesh wasn't too obvious, only clearly visible in the right light but with it wrapping all around his arm, any angle would so some part of it. At least some of the grey hair on his arms hid it somewhat.

He slipped on his clothes, glad that they hadn't been stolen in his absence. The tight shirt at least hid some of the scars but he wasn't sure for how long considering it had grown considerably tighter since he had last donned it. Or perhaps he had grown bigger which wasn't that hard to conceive. With a sigh, he started headed back towards the school.

Before he could even start to think about the drive home, he caught sight of a big, blob of grey sitting in front of the school gates. His mouth began to water as he dared a little sniff. He blinked in surprise at just how perfectly blended it smelled that he couldn't help but sample it just a little bit. The balance between the beefy flavour and the rich sweetness of the red wine was perfect. It made his stomach growl.

Both curious and a little hungry, he quickly tracked the scent to a young man sitting in front of the school gates, staring forlornly up into the sky. It was funny but the aura didn't exactly seem to be coming from him. It sort of... clung to him. Again, it was something that Conway hadn't encountered before. Others oozed the lies like Ivan and Tristian but this kid...

His curiosity overwhelmed the demonic hunger and he wandered over. "Hey kiddo," he greeted. "What're you doing here so late?"

The boy was a senior. Conway recognised him from one of the few classes he had to teach here and there. But he couldn't remember the guy's name. He did remember, however, that this guy was one of the few people who wore beards in school, particularly a cool chinstrap beard that blended seamlessly with his short, dark brown hair with light, golden tips. His square jaw was quite handsome but his eyes were sunken like he hadn't gotten any sleep and he was rather scrawny. Barely at 5'8'', the guy looked almost malnourished. Conway wondered if the beard was more from a lack of motivation to shave than a fashion statement.

"Oh... Coach Mitchell..." said the young man, rising to his feet and dusting off the rear of his denim pants. "Just waiting for my big brother to pick me up." He offered Conway a crooked smile, his lower teeth being seriously misaligned. "He's always late..."

"It's past five in the evening. Sun will be setting soon. Does he usually pick you up this late?"

"Um... yeah," answer the student. "He works a tow truck and the impound lot so he's kind of busy."

That was clearly a lie.

Angelton was filled with good, hardworking red-blooded Americans. It was rare for anyone to get towed and if they did, it was usually resolved within the day. That meant that this kid's brother likely didn't get a lot of business and was paid very little by the city council for a service that the town barely needed. Why the brother would be late in picking up his brother was a mystery.

"Right..." Conway began. "What's your name, kiddo?"

"Paul. Paul Torres." He held out his hand to shake but Conway was a little self-conscious. If he grabbed a hold of Paul's hand, he wasn't sure if he'd let go until every ounce of that delicious aura was gone. In fact, he was keeping a respectable distance away so as not to constantly breathe in that mist.

"Wait... I remember you..." Conway said, searching his memories. "Your old man died a few years back, didn't he? Went to fight in some war and never came back." He realised just how insensitive that sounded and quickly apologised. "Sorry! I didn't mean to bring up bad memories."

"It's okay," Paul chuckled softly. "I've gotten over it. It's just my brother and I now. He pays the bills and I go to school. I work weekends at the local ice cream parlour. We missed you this weekend. But then again, a lot of stuff happened this weekend."

Now he remembered Paul. Before he had been transformed into a hunk of a human, Conway used to frequent one of the few ice cream parlours in the suburbs. Paul worked there and Conway always ordered the banana split with an extra scoop of mint ice cream. He had been one of their regulars for years...

"Right," he muttered. "Well... What do you say I give you a lift back to your place?" Conway hiked his thumb at the carpark where his truck sat. "I'm sure your brother would understand."

Paul's eyes brightened at the prospect but he began exuding his own grey mist of deception. "Yeah. I'm sure Fred wouldn't mind."

The field of lies surrounding Paul was far too tempting and Conway was tempted to retract his offer. However, the kid was clearly hurting due to some colossal lie and as an educator, he couldn't just leave the poor guy hanging. Swearing to himself that he'd keep control of his urges, Conway beckoned Paul to follow him back into the school.

A few of the teachers were still there based on the vehicles still in the carpark. It was with some amusement that he noted Sam's bright yellow bug was still there. He never could understand how that guy could love that car so much. It was a horrid colour. But, then again, he could see students' eyes light up when they saw that car in the lot.

Conway headed towards his truck but froze when he remembered that he had actually taken his old bicycle to school. In fact, his truck was probably still sitting in the carpark next to Angel's Kiss Beach. He grimaced at himself and smacked his forehead.

"Shit..." he muttered. "Sorry, I remembered I took my bike to school today. I actually left my truck by the beach."

"Why'd you leave your truck there?" Paul asked curiously.

It was somewhat ironic that Conway had to concoct a lie himself. "I went for a late night bike right on Friday. Something I do every now and then. Then the quakes hit and I was in such a hurry to get home that I just took my bike back to the house. Totally forgot about my truck until just now."

The scrawny student let out a soft chuckle. "I can understand that. Well... Thanks for the offer, Coach. I'll just wait for my brother."

The guilt of having led Paul on gnawed at Conway. "Why don't you come with me to the beach? I know a shortcut that'll get us there pretty quickly."

"Angel's Kiss Beach is pretty far from here..." Paul muttered.

Conway gave him an encouraging grin. "Not when you take Old Keenman's Run."

"Huh?"

Conway led Paul to the back outside of the school and around the rear of the red brick fence. On the way, he explained that back before the wall was erected and the school basically had open grounds, there was a group of teenagers who used to slip out of school and make their way to Angel's Kiss Beach. Keenman was their leader and it became somewhat of a rite of passage for teenagers of Conway's generation to have snuck out of school using Keenman's Run to get to the beach and back without being detected.

It was, after all, a fairly treacherous trail. The path itself was unmarked and had thick underbrush that covered potholes and unstable ground. About five minutes away from the school, the path began sloping downwards rapidly and one wrong move generally meant tumbling down a good few metres. It was even more dangerous when it was wet but thankfully, there hadn't been any rain since the quakes.

Little did the two know that they had someone tailing them.

"The roads to Angel's Kiss is pretty flat and goes around the hill the schools are on," Conway explained, taking the lead. When he came to a stable piece of ground, he turned and offered his hand to Paul. The young man cautiously took it and crept towards him. "That's why it takes longer to get to the beach if you take the road. But Keenman found this shortcut. Just takes about ten minutes to get to the beach. Longer to get back since you're going uphill but most people can head to the beach when lunch starts and then get back before class resumes."

"How come I never heard of this?" Paul asked.

"It became inaccessible when the school built its walls," Conway said with a grin. "That and it's dangerous. So don't go spreading this to anyone else."

Paul gave him a salute. "Yes sir."

That little gesture made Conway's chest seize up. It brought back memories of Tristian and caused his guilt to resurface. With a grimace, he turned away and continued down the path much to Paul's confusion.

Soon, they heard the rush of the ocean and the path began to slope a little steeper. Conway had to keep a hold of Paul as they hurried along the unmarked path. As promised, within ten minutes of leaving the school, they were emerging from the tree line onto a short, grassy plane right next to Angel's Kiss Beach. They emerged on the other side of the pier from the car park so they still needed to trek through the sand to get to Conway's car.

"Wow..." Paul breathed. "And here I thought you were going to rape me."

Conway turned to the student in shock. "What?"

"Come on, Coach. Big beefy teacher like you? Suddenly asking a student to go into the middle of the woods with him? Screams rape."

The sad thing was, Paul was being completely honest. "If you thought that, why'd you come with me?"

Paul took a deep breath and let it out softly, his eyes averting from Conway. "I don't know."

That was a lie and Conway couldn't stand not knowing what was troubling Paul. He sampled a bit of his aura and was rather surprised that the thick outer layer didn't exactly come from Paul. Rather, it coated him because it involved him. But the disconnect between the mist and Paul was confusing. He delved past it and sampled some of Paul's own deception.

"It's about your brother, isn't it?" he asked.

Paul didn't even deny it and sighed. "Ever since dad died, Fred has just been so... distant and uncaring. He used to be so passionate with big dreams but then, he just sort of... hollowed out."

"And you think being raped by a teacher will at least spark a fire under him again?" Conway asked. "Paul, there has got to be better ways to get him to open up thank putting yourself in unnecessary risks."

"I've tried coach. Really. I tried to make him proud of me with my grades. With sporting achievements but... He just sits in front of the TV, drinks beer, growing fat and eating cheesy snacks."

It was sad to think that not too long ago, that was who Conway was. These days, if he sat down for too long he got too restless. The fact that he didn't need sleep didn't help matters.

"It's none of my business what your brother does with his life," Conway said. "But it's your life I'm concerned about. You're a student in _my_school. I'm not going to let you go and get yourself raped because you think it'll somehow get your brother to care again."

Paul laughed softly but bitterly. "Thanks, coach. I appreciate that."

With the lull in the conversation, Conway led the way up to beach towards his car. On the way, he did pass Virgil's old gym, however. Old memories were hard to ignore and the question of what Virgil would say if he saw what Conway had become cropped up again.

"I just want to make a stop before we head over to my car," he said, gesturing towards the warehouse.

"Sure, coach."

It was far easier to push open the big, metal doors than it was before. He could do it with one hand. But what he was not prepared for was the sudden blast of deception that hit him like a tonne of bricks. He instantly made him hard, bringing a groan from his lips.

"Coach?" Paul asked hurrying towards him and setting a hand on his back. The contact and the blend of Paul's aura with the years of collected lies in the gym battered at Conway's resistances. The high school coach could already feel the hairs on his arms starting to lengthen and his fangs starting to grow.

Using every ounce of his will, Conway pulled himself together, pushing the transformation back. "I'm... I'm okay. Just... Old memories," he muttered. Shutting the door and leaving it for another day would've been the prudent thing to do but as far as he remembered, only Conway and Virgil frequented the gym. What did either of them have to hide?

Unless it was all of his delusions somehow soaked into the floors, walls and gym equipment like his blood and sweat.

Conway steeled himself.

This was a ghost he needed to banish.

He was not that person anymore.

"This was an old gym that a friend of mine set up," he explained with a shaky grin. He stepped into the warehouse, entering the thick mist like he was plunging himself into the sea as it was roiling from a storm. "After I didn't make it into the pros, he put up this place and we trained together so I could get a shot the following year."

Talking helped. His mind was focused on the conversation and even as he drew more of the embedded deception in the air between each sentence or break, he could still maintain his human form.

"Wow... This place is pretty big," Paul said, stepping into the warehouse and casting his gaze around. "Lots of equipment too. Only you two used it?"

"Are far as I know," Conway responded. He dared to read some of the deception he was consuming. A pit of guilt grew in his chest as his suspicions were confirmed. It was his delusion, the constant lie he told himself that he could get better and become a football star that permeated every barbell, every weight and every bench.

He went over to the rows of lockers and opened the one assigned to him. Again, there was a blast of deception that eagerly poured down his throat but he was prepared for it. He picked up the old pair of boxing gloves hanging there. "I remember telling my friend that I didn't see much use in boxing if I was going to be a professional football player. Not like I was going to punch someone. He didn't lie to me. He just liked boxing. I humoured him. I think it helped me realise that I would never be a pro."

"You look like you've got the build for it, though," Paul said.

Conway laughed. "It takes more than muscle to be a great football player, kid. You got to have the smarts. You've got to have sharp reflexes and be really observant." He regarded the boxing gloves again, consuming the last bits of his delusion that hung on them. "I think that was my problem. I was just _so_focused on being a pro that I didn't observe everything else happening around me. I would never have made a good player. I've got tunnel vision."

He hung up the gloves respectfully.

Again there was a lull in the conversation. Every breath caused him to take a mouthful of deception and it was starting to affect him, addling his mind with thoughts of sex and the need for more. His muscles yearned to be big again and gobble up all the delusion in the air, lick it off the benches and then proceed to fuck Paul until he too was a demon.

Shaking that last thought from his head, Conway said, "What about you, kiddo? Interested in any sports?"

"Baseball," Paul responded shortly. "But then after dad died, we didn't have the money to keep up with my equipment hire. Couldn't afford the trips on away games. Couldn't even pitch in for pizza after games."

Paul was a varsity baseball player. Was being the operative word. The lack of nutrition did a number on his body and Conway couldn't help but feel pity for him. But there was something about the way he spoke; that... dejected, tired tone that made Paul sound like he had accepted the fate handed down to him.

Again, Conway felt like he could see something of himself in the young man.

"Do you blame your brother?" Conway asked, moving over to the barbells and running his hand over their rounded shapes. He took a deep breath, shuddering as the deception powered his muscles. It was hard to keep his arms from growing bigger but he clenched them, forcing them to remain still even as much as they wanted to burst out of his shirt and letterman jacket.

"A little."

That answer made Conway turn in surprise. "Why?"

Paul frowned and shook his head. "I don't know. I just feel like he's hiding something from me. Every time I ask him about dad... he just yells at me, changes the subjects and tells me to grab him another beer."

Classic diversionary tactic. It made Conway even more curious and he wandered back over to Paul. Taking some of the delusion in his environment made him a little more confident about his abilities. Maybe he could alleviate some of Paul's pain after all. He just had to play his cards right.

"Hey Paul," he began, catching the young man's attention. "What if I told you I have a superpower?"

Paul gave him a dubious stare. "I'd ask you what is it and then base my judgement on that. Either way, I'd probably seriously consider taking your offer of a ride back home."

He was honest at least.

"I have the power to tell when someone is lying and what they're lying about whether they know it or not." Conway stepped right up next to Paul, standing almost toe to toe with him. He took a small breath just to get some of that fresh aura into himself. There was definitely a difference in the 'freshness' of the lie and having it come from a living thing made Conway's cock ache. Thankfully, Paul was looking up at him instead of down at his shorts. "This morning, you told Mr. Weston, your English teacher, that you had read Much Ado About Nothing and bullshitted your way through your analysis."

Paul's eyebrows rose. "Okay..."

That was a bit too school-related. It could easily be explained by Weston talking to Conway during lunch or something of that manner. So Conway took another breath and tried not to shudder even as the hairs on his arms began to grow longer. That taste was intoxicating.

"This morning, Fred asked you to get him a beer before work and you told him that you had run out. But really, you threw it out in an attempt to get him to stop drinking because his boss already threatened to fire him if he came in to work drunk again."

There, Paul's eyes widened. "That's... uncanny..." He tilted his head to the side almost like he was about to turn tail and run. "Are you _sure_you're not going to rape me?"

"No." He gave Paul a lopsided grin. "Like I said, superpower." He dared another breath, trying not to savour the taste of the decadently balanced meal in front of him. It was hard not to as he deconstructed the layers of the deception. It was like playing the detective while eating a big bowl of spaghetti. He wanted to solve the mystery but the food was just too good.

"You think your brother is lying to you about your dad," Conway said. "When you told me that your brother was going to pick you up, you really didn't think he'd do it. He rarely picks you up from school these days. When he does, it's around five. You were really just waiting until about six when the next bus would come around. You'd have headed out at about five thirty to get to the bus stop."

Paul took a step away but Conway seized his shoulder, keeping him still. "Coach... you're scaring me."

In interruption irked Conway a little. "Look do you want to know what your brother is lying to you about or not?" He was almost growling and he tried to remember that he was talking to a kid who had put his trust in him. For a moment, Paul looked dubious and that was enough for Conway to pull back and physically take a step away from his student. "Sorry, sorry..." He murmured. "This... superpower of mine isn't exactly a_good_ thing," he admitted.

"What are you talking about?" Paul gave him a soft, bitter laugh. "If I had your power..."

"You'd use it to figure out what your brother is hiding from you?" Conway finished with a wry smile. "Yeah... well everything comes at a price, kid. And mine... well..." He decided to take a plunge. What was the worst that could happen if he revealed to someone that he was now a demon? "I'll show you my price, Paul, but you have to promise to be reasonable, okay?"

Showing that careless attitude of his, Paul just shrugged and gave him a wry smile. "Sure. I'm here in what could very well be your disguised sex dungeon aren't I? If you started taking off your clothes, I wouldn't run."

He actually mustered a laugh from that comment. "Funny you should mention that..." As he pulled off his jacket, he reminded Paul to 'be reasonable'. Paul was a little more focused on the strange markings all over Conway's arm however but he didn't comment even as Conway took off his shirt and pants and stood naked in front of the student.

Only then did Paul noticed the immense package his coach was sporting.

"Whoa Coach..." he laughed, blushing and averting his gaze. "And here I thought bodybuilders had small dicks."

"A common misconception," Conway murmured. "But this isn't half of it. Just... Promise not to freak out."

Paul lifted his hand. "Hand to God."

Again, another ironic statement. Conway waited a second for a lightning bolt from Heaven to strike him down but when nothing came, he closed his eyes and drew in the ingrained deception all over the gym. Though he didn't need it to change, it helped make the transformation as seamless as possible. He still let out a loud grunt as his entire body morphed and shifted into his demonic shape. He lurched forward, catching his weight on his massive knuckles just as they sprang into their new size. It took all his effort not to let out a loud roar. It felt like he was stretching his muscles after a very long workout and he came to realise that his human form was so... unnatural to him. This form, his demonic form, was his true self now. Even has his lower jaw jutted out and his lower canines grew into enormous proportions to make him look more brutish, it still felt so... _relieving_to be free.

And if guys like Paul could accept that... well, maybe he had nothing to fear after all.

He shook his head as it reshaped into the square, canine muzzle before opening his eyes, bright red irises burning against a field of black.

Paul stared aghast.

Conway waited for his reaction.

"Holy shit!" Paul exclaimed. "You're a fucking werewolf!"

The high-school-coach-turned-demon rolled his eyes. "Demon, actually. Deception Demon, apparently. I feed off people's lies and deceit. Makes me stronger."

"When did this happen?" Paul asked, shaking his head in disbelief. "Were you always like this?"

"If I was, I would never have lost my chance at being a pro footballer," Conway rumbled. "It happened during the earthquakes. I think I caused one, actually. Turned into this that night." He gestured at himself. "Actually, was a little smaller." Conway suddenly gasped and looked down to where Paul was tenderly touching the tip of his cock.

"Hard to think you were 'smaller'," said the young man.

"Well... this was the price I had to pay for my superpower," he rumbled. "I can help people work out their lies and even take them away so that they'll be honest. I can even read into people's lies and tell what they're lying about." He nodded towards Paul. "I can see that you're wrapped in a very thick lie. Something that you're a victim of but not directly generating. It's hooked onto you though. If you'll let me, I'll pull it apart and try and figure it out..."

Paul took his hand away from the enormous, throbbing dick in front of him, his fingers covered in the thick clear slime that was Conway's precum. "Demon or not... this is pretty awesome, coach. I'm in."

"You sure?" Conway rumbled.

Paul shrugged. "What's left if you take away all the lies but truth, right? You're doing something good for me." He spread his arms wide. "Go for it."

Conway smiled. Perhaps he had found the new path to becoming the person - or demon - he wanted to be. No more lies, no more pretending he was some monster or sneaking about spying on the people with the biggest deceptions around them. Just a head on encounter. Honesty was the best policy, after all.

He closed his eyes, focusing all his senses on the thick aura of deceit around Paul. Working through years of deception would be a task but most of it was just repeated lies. The latest piece of dishonesty was when Fred gave the barely intelligible excuse that he was too busy at work to pick up his little brother. It was an excuse that he used over and over again for the past few months. Before that, he claimed that he meant to but just plain forgot.

"He wants to pick you up," Conway said. "But he just feels guilty about it... about coming to the school."

"The school?" Paul asked. "But he never went to Angelton Boys'. He went to the Grammar school."

Conway lifted a finger, hushing the young man as he continued to take the lies into him, rolling the delicious taste in his muzzle as he tried to sort through it. The tang of denial was embedded deep into the lie. Fred was desperately trying to forget some fact, some_one_ in the school. He kept lying to himself about it, pretending that whoever it was wasn't at the school anymore or that they just plain didn't exist. But the truth continued to gnaw at him and it made him avoid the school at whatever cost.

"There's someone there... he's trying to avoid," Conway rumbled. That layer of lies was exactly the same. Like he was peeling an onion, he had sliced into the first layer and was now heading into the next. For that, he needed to physically lean closer to Paul. His big paws gently guided Paul closer to him as well.

Now he could see a little more. Embedded in the lies was an overwhelming sense of shame and the desperation of Fred to make sure that Paul grew up to be a strong and successful person. But that was incredibly hard especially on the salary of a tow truck operator. It was, however, monthly wads of cash that he received that kept reminding him of his shame.

"Your brother gets money every month from someone."

Paul's eyes widened in shock. "Wait...? He does? From who?"

Conway growled his displeasure at being interrupted and Paul murmured a faint apology. He pulled his subject a little closer so that he could delve deeper still. Paul was pressed up against his strong, muscled chest, heart racing and uncaring about the thick dick spewing precum all over his chest and his clothes.

The physical contact of his sensitive prick against the source of the deception heightened his ability to read the layers of lies. It was hard to concentrated as his need of orgasm grew off the charts but he soldiered on. He was trying to help someone.

"It's... it's from the person that's he's trying to avoid at school... a... a janitor?" Conway frowned as he vaguely recognised the face embedded into the aura. It was the crippled rotund custodian that he saw working every night. An older gentleman who appeared to have been well-built at one time but was now rather rounded just like how Conway had become. However, this guy had a reason. His left leg was entirely prosthetic.

Paul remained silent throughout the entire process to which Conway was grateful for.

Captivated by the story unfolding before him, Conwy leaned down until his muzzle was hovering right next to Paul's neck. He was at the deepest part of the lie now and as he continued to deconstruct it, he began to inadvertently lick at Paul's neck, tasting his flesh topped with the tantalising taste of perfectly balanced deception. Paul quivered at the contact but said nothing.

"Your brother is ashamed... because the janitor makes more money than he does and even has enough to send your way... He uses that money to make sure you can go to school... But there isn't enough that you can go back to baseball... He wishes that he could help but he barely makes enough money to keep food on the table... And it kills him inside that you can't do what you want... He tries to put on a tough front but every time he receives that wad of cash, his heartbreaks because... because..."

Conway grunted.

"Because!?" Paul demanded. "Because!?"

Conway tried to delve deeper but there was something blocking his path. His tongue danced across something rough and not at all like Paul's skin. He realised that it was a shirt. No longer caring for the consequences, he said, "Take off your clothes. It's blocking me."

No longer caring about the social stigma or the threat of rape, Paul eagerly stripped off his clothes and bore himself against Conway. He even went so far as to press himself against Conway's big, throbbing cock to which the enormous demon let out a hum of appreciation. Conway eagerly planted his lips against Paul's shoulder, gently suckling on the flesh as he got to the final layer of the web of intrigue.

Conway continued to sift through the lies. Back when Fred was a caring brother, he was just working at a tow truck driver as a part time job while he was studying how to become a mechanic. He was hoping to open his own garage which the town needed desperately. Everyone just repaired their own cars or asked the neighbour who knew something about cars to help. He would've been rather well off from all the business he got. But then he got a phone call that shattered his life.

He met someone... A man at Angelton Boys' High School... A man with a prosthetic leg.

And there was an exchange... a promise.

As Conway continued his frantic search for the truth, he was inadvertently pouring some of his own demonic essence into Paul. The young man had once asked what could be left when all lies were taken but truth. Sadly, when a man's life is consumed by lies, the truth only takes up a single fraction in comparison to the hollowed out mass that the deception had created. Being so close to Conway's cock made it easy for Paul to be corrupted.

Had either of them been paying attention, they would've noticed how Paul's flesh began to pulse and vibrate in tandem with the throbbing of Conway's dick. Driven by some base compulsion, Paul reached out and wrapped his arms around the massive piece of canine meat in front of him. His poor, young mind couldn't comprehend what was happening especially as he became more and more aroused and the layers of lies were stripped from his shoulders. An immense weight was lifted from his shoulders and he actually felt good. _Really_good.

His own dick began to throb, rising to it fully five and a half inches. At first, it beat to a different rhythm than Conway's member but the pulsations from the bigger cock overwhelmed his own, forcing it to dance to its tune. The connection was made. It was then easy for Conway's dick to start pushing itself against Paul's, the deep black flesh merging with the smaller pink rod and consuming it entirely.

The sensation was overwhelming for Paul and he began pouring all of the lies he had ever told, all the underhanded tricks he had ever performed and all the times he had cheated straight into Conway. In exchange, with every throb of his dick, Conway pumped Paul full of demonic energy.

Paul's entire body began to shake and quiver with Conway's dick, soft moans coming from between his lips. A strange salty taste touched his lips but he eagerly lapped it up and swallowed it back down. But as the seconds ticked by, it became more and more insistent until he couldn't keep it from bursting out from between his lips. Through glazed eyes, he noticed that the fluid was the same consistency and colour as Conway's precum. Something in his brain vaguely registered what was happening but he didn't much care anymore. In fact, he didn't much care about the truth that Conway was trying to unveil. He felt _so_good that he didn't want that feeling to end.

More and more of his body was pulled into Conway's cock. He lifted his legs, curling it around the thick member. Gravity should have pulled him back down but the moment his skin made contact with the throbbing length, it began to merge with the dark rod. Conway felt the suddenly shift of weight and toppled forward, catching himself on his arm to prevent himself from crushing Paul. His student let out a gasp as thick precum shot from between his lips.

Paul pressed the tip of Conway's dick against his chest. Every pulsation from the cock brought it closer and closer to him. His eyes grew very heavy as his entire form began to change and shift. Muscles melded with the immense dick, adding to its mass. Bones softened, internal organs lost their properties and became part of the immense system built for reproduction and demonic corruption. Paul let out a loud gasp as a thick vein originating from Conway's dick rolled up his side, sweeping over his ass and rolling up his back before ending at the base of his neck. He could feel Conway's blood pumping into him, pulling him closer and closer to the dick he had wrapped himself against.

He could barely keep his eyes open as the pumping of the vein forced his head back, angling it straight upwards. Bit by bit, every follicle of hair dropped from his head and body. His torso lost definition as it became part of the tapering point of Conway's dick. The tip of that member merged with his chest, the steady stream of precum filling his lungs, shooting warmth through what remained of his chest before shooting straight out of his lips. Desptie the lack of oxygen, he still felt very aware, alive and in ecstasy.

"Oh shit! Oh no! Paul!"

Paul peered drowsily up at Conway who had opened his eyes and was staring down at the young man, now just a barely human head emerging from the tip of his big, black cock.

"Fuck! What's happening!?" Conway cried. "Paul! Paul!"

The young man tried to response but all that came out was a thick blast of precum that Conway felt all too well. Desperate, Conway clung onto the massive member, trying to hold onto Paul even as the student's skull began to reshape, tapering into an all too familiar point. The stream of precum coming from Paul's lips became far more consistent, a total waterfall of musky, clear liquids.

Unsure what to do, Conway could only give Paul some lasting comfort before he merged completely with his dick.

"The janitor is your dad!" Conway shouted. "I'm sorry Paul! He's your dad! He got his leg blown off in the war when he accidentally unpinned a grenade he was carrying and injured three other people! He was dishonourably from the military but couldn't face his family! He took up a job as a janitor and has been living in a studio apartment in town! He asked Fred not to tell you and he's been sending money every month to you two!"

He thought he saw a faint smile on Paul's fading features before the inky colour of his cock consumed the young man's features entirely. The rounded head of a human funnelled into a pointed tip, Paul's lips changing into the hole that constantly shot stream after stream of precum from the immense member that took up over half of Conway's size.

The big Deception Demon couldn't even get up anymore. He could only lie there, cradling his enormous dick and sobbing quietly. He hadn't meant for this to happen. He didn't know he could do that... but now...

Paul was gone...

Conway closed his eyes and growled at himself for, once again, losing control.

Unbeknownst to the weeping demon, the man trailing them both backed away from the warehouse door where he had been watching. Horrified at what happened, he spun and bolted, fear in his eyes.

******

Hellfire just came naturally to Flash, he wasn't sure why. It was a funny little thing. It didn't feel hot and it didn't exactly burn but against other demons, it was capable of sapping their strength and even cleansing corruption. As he sat in the gym of Russ' house, he absently played with a tongue of black hellfire between his fingers. At the moment, he could only summon hellfire in his hellhound form. It was impossible for him as a human. Not that he didn't mind his new body. It almost felt... natural.

And that confused him.

Buck Goldman had never raised him to be a religious sort of person but Flash did believe in the supernatural and so had a firm belief in what it meant to be 'good'. That he felt good as a hellhound puzzled him. Then again, from what he had seen and learned, being a spawn of hell wasn't exactly a bad thing.

"Most demons would have burned themselves by now."

Flash looked up and found Russ, in his human form, standing a short distance away with two cups of something that smelled milky and sweet at the same time. He handed one cup to Flash. Whatever it was, it was an opaque pink colour.

"What's this?" he asked.

"Hellfruit juice that's been boiled with hellfire and mixed in with some herbal green tea." Russ sat down beside Flash on the bench press, their large bodies barely capable of fitting on the bench to the point where Russ gave up and sat on a nearby bench instead. "And it has some of Dante's milk in it as well."

Flash recoiled at that, his lips just an inch from the brew.

"Don't look at me like that," Russ said with a sly smirk. "Just last night, you must've drunk at least fifty gallons of your mate's man milk so that you could burn that place down."

"Yeah but..." Flash couldn't put words to how he was feeling.

"It feels like a private thing, right?" Russ asked. "Like Dante's milk is reserved just for you. No one else should drink that sweet ambrosia but you." Flash didn't reply and just shuffled uncomfortably where he sat. "I felt the same way when I drank from Virgil. Especially when we were starting out. He actually started producing milk after we escaped the Misery Mines." Russ took a sip from the tea, making Flash flinch. "Like your mate, he was rather proficient at converting and purifying demonic energy to become a pure fluid that could rejuvenate anyone. Not just demon. Human and Angel too. In fact, there were many times during our adventures that he used that 'miracle potion' to heal the wounds of someone. I still remember the look on Sarah's face when she realised she had drunk the milk from a hellhound." Russ laughed softly and shook his head. "I admit, I felt rather protective of him. Plus, I liked how his milk tasted. I guarded it jealously." Russ gave Flash a tender smile. "But if Dante is anything like his grandfather, he isn't one to keep his gifts to himself. He's probably going to follow in Virgil's footsteps and use his powers to help people."

"Still kind of wish he told me that he's bottling up the stuff," Flash mumbled.

"Oh this is fresh from the teat," Russ said, taking another sip. "Nice and warm. You should try it."

Now the legendary hellhound was just toying with him and Flash took a sip from the brew. It did indeed rejuvenate him, making muscles he never knew were sore fill with energy. He actually heard his biceps tighten like leather, veins popping across his arms. "It's nice," he admitted.

"Remember to metabolise it," Russ advised. "Don't cum it out. You need to grow stronger. I know it's tempting to spill your seed but trust me, you'll be better off if you don't."

"Being a demon is hard..."

"That's because you were born a human," Russ chuckled. "Had you been born a demon, it would be second nature for you to decide when to cream the floor and when not to."

Flash regarded the pink brew and took another sip. The warmth of the liquid seeped down his throat and straight to his crotch, the heat encouraging blood flow into his member. "What about you?" he asked in an attempt to distract himself from his rising arousal. "You're a demigod right? Half-Angel, half-human? What was that like? How're the Angels?"

"Really no better than demons," Russ answered with a shrug. "They just embody different emotions and instead of draining away emotions, they're more about encouraging their development and spread. Demons tend to mess with their environment and create stimulus that forces their victims to generate the quality they're after. Angels, on the other hand, impart some of their own strength to inspire the emotions that they embody. If you ever encounter an Angel of Valour for instance, they'll sacrifice some of their power to make you feel more... valorous. They're far more subtle about it because they have to give some of themselves to start the fire of passion."

He gave Flash a rueful smile. "Generally, it's harder for them to start changing someone but when that person changes, they cling to it far more readily than with a demon. With us, we start changing a person to love hatred or go crazy with lust, society will frown upon it and they are likely to change back. For an Angel, if they start with one person, that person might inspire others and that in turn gives them strength."

"Huh..." Flash murmured. "So with Angels, it's not about the direct payoff. It's about the growth. They can't focus on the one guy. We can."

"That's right." Russ took a big swing from his drink. "And for me, I'm full demon now. Well, demon with a human soul just like you guys. Hades made sure of that. I think he wanted me to remember why I was under his service and never to deviate."

"What was it like? Being a guardian of the underworld and feeding on death?"

Russ shrugged. "Surprisingly, never boring. Hell had a sort of open door policy back then. At least the Underworld did. People came and went and I either got to stop them or they wrestled me to the ground. Feasting on death was always different because there are a myriad of emotions that are attached with death. It depends on how the person died, what they felt while they were dying and all that stuff. A person that died on the battlefield thinking he was top of the world and got shot between the eyes will be shocked and surprised that he's dead. An old man dying contently surrounded by his family radiates peace and calm. Never a dull meal, I'll tell you that. And there was a _lot_more people dying back then." Russ held up his hand. "Not that there aren't now but given the lack of modern medicine and the frequency of wars..."

Flash nodded grimly. "I get it." He took another sip and felt brave enough to take a large gulp. His entire body shook a little as he tried to keep the crawling warmth from reaching his crotch. It was futile but trying to focus on the conversation helped to stop himself from sprouting his massive two foot cock.

"Can I ask you how you dealt with this whole... 'mate' thing?" he said. "It feels like I should love Dante and I really have this strong connection with him but..."

"You can't feel it but you want to, right?" Russ asked to which Flash nodded. "It's your human soul telling you that a relationship, a lasting one needs more than just a base compulsion as a basis. Means you're strong like that and you won't give in to your demonic desires. Which is good." He leaned back and sighed. "Virgil felt the same way towards me. At the time, even as he started turning into a demon, he didn't think he could ever fall in love with me. I hated him because I was bound to him but I knew what this tugging in my soul was. I tried to reject it but... well..."

Cerberus smiled softly at the memory. "A lot of things happened in Hell that changed both our perspectives. I don't know if Virgil wrote about _all_our adventures but H2 did take us to other locales of Hell. There was one demon lord, Skar, who was one of the original 'Fallen Angels'." He made air quotes for that name. "He was a big guy, taller than a skyscraper but gentle as a morning breeze. As an Angel, he thrived on the spread of a certain emotion amongst his denizens. In this case, it was sex and the act thereof."

"Sex!?" Flash exclaimed incredulously. "How the hell does that get grouped with Hell?"

Russ gave him a lifted eyebrow in response. "You mean apart from the fact that if you shout out 'sex' at the top of your lungs in the street, people will think you're crazy? Rampant censorship won't even let you see a guy's dick on screen without people throwing a fit about it? Adults are forced to supress their sex drive because of modern social standards?"

Flash grimaced. "But... it makes babies..."

"That's why he's considered a Fallen Angel," Russ replied. "We beings of Heaven and Hell are really constrained by modern mortal standards. I'm sure if the world changes and people could have sex on the streets without 'rape' being called then he could probably go back to Heaven but as it stands, he's in Hell. Doesn't mean he goes full demon on people though. He's still a nice guy. Actually helped convince Virgil that demons can be just as angelic as a Seraph and Angels can be just as big an asshole as a demon."

"Huh..." Flash murmured thoughtfully. "So what was his realm like?"

"Orgies everywhere," Russ said simply. "He encouraged it. Everyone was free to make passionate love to one another whenever and wherever they wanted but it had to be based on pure affection not just physical contact. That'd be crossing onto the realm of Lust."

"Bet that was fun to visit."

"We only passed by on our way to Lust but Virgil did get to talk to Skar and it started him on his path to being more accepting of his demonic nature."

"So I'm just meant to trust this feeling inside of me and love Dante?" Flash asked, placing a large paw over his chest.

Russ was quiet for a long moment. He finished his drink and set it aside. "Let me tell you about Soul Binding, Flash." He leaned forward, clasping his hands together. "It's the demonic equivalent to marriage but it goes _far_deeper. In marriage, two mortals exchange vows. In Soul Binding, two demons exchange a portion of their souls. They carry that part of their partner or partners within themselves. They know that demon to the point where they can feel each other no matter their distance." He took a deep breath and let it out softly. "To this day, I still feel Virgil. He's very happy and whenever I feel down, he feels it and radiates his pride and love for me that it helps me get through the day."

Looking back to Flash, Cerberus said, "It's something you shouldn't take lightly and it certainly isn't something that you can really control. Sometimes, the emotions between you and another demon are just so strong that your souls demand a merger and it happens. With Virgil and I, we had it planned. In one night of passion, we gave each other a portion of ourselves."

"What are you saying?" Flash asked cautiously.

"I'm saying that you don't need to force this change between you and Dante. Let it happen naturally. When the time is right, your souls will know. Just don't push it away either." He eyes twinkled with something akin to fatherly pride. "You two are very strong both as demons and as mortals. The bond between you is powerful and the pendant wouldn't have changed you both if it didn't feel something there in the first place. At least that's what H2 told us. I choose to believe that."

Russ stood up and rolled his shoulders. "Now, why don't we -"

Suddenly, they both turned, gazing off towards the north. An enormous burst of demonic energy had erupted from somewhere there, feeling like an immense wave had just struck them and was now trying to drown them. The ground shook slightly, distance affecting its intensity. No doubt at the epicentre, the earth was splitting in two.

It only lasted for a minute or two but when it faded, Dante came rushing into the room.

"Did you guys feel that!?" he demanded.

"We did," Russ murmured.

"Another thrall being made?"

Cerberus shook his head. "No... There were nine demons that emerged the same night as you two became hellhounds. That means there was one other artefact that was not activated." His eyes narrowed. "And now... we have demon number ten."

******

The sun had long set by the time something shifted in Conway. The terrible thing about not needing to sleep was that Conway was painfully aware of every second as his cock throbbed in front of him. He waited for it to go down like it usually did, tried to focus on the guilt and misery he felt over having effectively killed Paul. But his dick would just not go down, it continued to pump him with the urge to cum but he refused to pleasure it. He would _not_get any satisfaction from having consumed an entire human being. He just wouldn't allow himself.

Then, in the darkness of the makeshift gym, his balls began to gurgle.

He grit his fangs together, trying to force the sensation down but it came far stronger than before. Much stronger. A loud gasp escaped his lips as thick precum exploded from the tip of his cock and splattered the ground around him. He wasn't even given a moment to breathe as another blast rocketed up his cock, originating from his balls and pushing up the length of his massive dick with the force of an erupting volcano.

Conway gripped his dick, trying to compress the channels that continuously sent wave after wave of pleasure through his body. But it would not stop. He could do nothing to stem the tide of precum that poured from his dick in increasing volumes. The gaps between powerful gushes became shorter and shorter until his entire body was quivering constantly and a pool of his precum formed around him.

But the experience was far from over. The rush of fluids only served to lubricate the path for something far bigger. His balls began to churn violently, visibly shifting in his sack as something enormous began forming between them. Conway was assaulted with immeasurable pleasure as he felt an intense warmth building within his balls, pulsing with his heartbeat and his throbbing dick.

The torrent of precum bashed up against the blockage, pushing it up from his balls towards his swollen knot. The moment where he wasn't spewing liquid from his dick gave him a second to look down at the enormous bulge slowly working its way up his dick. His jaw opened for a scream of horror but instead what came out was an immense roar of ecstasy as he began to experience one of the longest and most powerful orgasms he had ever had.

He could feel his hot seed piling up behind whatever it was that was blocking his dick, his balls slamming hard against the dam with the force of a battering ram. He remembered trying to hold back orgasms before but never lasted more than a few seconds as he tried to heighten that intense moment of bliss when he was on the verge of eruption. But this was something else. He had no _choice_as he was denied release and it felt unbelievable wonderful.

He roared both in frustration and pleasure, wildly thrusting his hips into the ground, trying to urge that lump further up his dick and out so he would at last be free. Inch by inch, that enormous lump travelled up the length of his prick, causing the big, black flesh to warp obscenely. More and more of his precum began thicken, obtaining a grey, milky colour as it began mixing with his corruptive seed.

The lump was up a third of his cock and he was lost in the wild moment, in need of release. His burning, red eyes were rolled into the back of his eyes as he madly panted, rubbing his huge paws along the length of his dick between his knot and the lump. Each gesture pushed more and more of the lump down his member, bringing him closer and closer to that blissful release.

"Oh fuuuuuuuuck!" he roared, throwing his head back. The gym quaked with his cry as the bulge shifted about halfway, getting closer and closer to the tip. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! FUUUUUUUUCK!"

Suddenly, he felt something warm and wiggling squirming inside his dick. He glanced down, barely conscious. The shape against his cock shifted, a vague silhouette of... of a foot pressing up against his black flesh. For a moment he didn't understand what was happening until a hand pressing up against the wall of flesh and slowly began working its way up his member.

"Paul...?" he groaned. "Paul!?"

As if in response, that hand reached the tip of his cock... and a figure pushed out of the hole. A glorious blast of grey seed shot out like a burst of fireworks. Another finger joined the first and another followed by a whole hand.

Conway roared, now driven all the more to get the form out of his dick. Huge burst of grey seed shot from his dick, squirting past the emerging arm. He could feel Paul pushing himself out the movements sending electric pleasure through the demon's entire body until -

"FUUUUUUUUUCK!"

With a loud, wet eruption, Conway's cock erupted. A tidal wave of grey cum erupted from his member and with it the frail figure of Paul Torres. Conway couldn't stop cumming even as Paul dropped out of the tip of his dick and fell into a thick pool of demon cum. Conway showered him constantly with musky seed even once he was free, all that pent up seed not only from the demon's consumption of the gym's deception but also Paul's, Ivan's and Tristian's culminating in a tremendous downpour of demonic male spunk.

Conway collapsed onto his haunches after a good ten minutes, his cock and balls shrinking back into their manageable sizes. He was exhausted, something he hadn't felt since becoming a demon. But for the moment, he couldn't let himself rest. Not yet.

Weakly, he crawled through the grey gunk towards the unmoving lump curled up in the foetal position. Paul didn't look like he was breathing. Panic struck Conway and he quickly shook the young man's shoulder.

"Paul?" he asked, almost begging. "Paul?"

No response.

"Paul..." he sighed softly. "I'm so sorry..."

Perhaps out of some fatherly instinct, he reached for Paul's head and gently wiped some of the cum from his student's face. Paul was almost angelic in the way he slept.

Then his eyes snapped open.

Burning red irises in a field of black.

Paul Torres suddenly propped himself up, looking deep into the eyes of his creator. Demonic energies coursed through his veins, feeding his hungry muscles and coursing through his veins. He sat up on his knees. Conway didn't get a chance to express his surprise or relief. Paul threw his head back and let out a loud, deep, demonic roar. His features immediately morphed, jaw jutting out ahead of the rest of his face to form a powerful under bite and the trademark lower canines of a Deception Demon. His nose flatted into a short, black triangle and he let out a loud snort. With his muzzle formed, his tongue lengthened, allowing him to lap up the seed that covered his features as they transformed into the hard features of a demon. Large horns jutted from his temples, curling behind his folded ears like a ram's.

Fur sprouted all over his body, eagerly absorbing the cum the covered him and transferring its power straight into his muscles. The scrawny frame exploded with size and mass. Veins popped against thick, bulging biceps and the hard edges of his shoulders showed even beneath the dark grey fur. His traps and rose, growing bigger and bigger until they practically merged with his neck. He threw his arms to his side, the force of the swing letting them grow to tremendous lengths, almost as long as his entire body. They immediately filled up with enormous forearms covered in dense, brown hair that matched the thick curls between his horns.

He slammed his newly grown arms against the ground, propping himself up just in time for his chest to blossom into two enormous mounds accompanied by a row of solid bricks for abdominals. A growl of arousal left his lips as a nipple topped every abdominal. His dick eagerly absorbed the demonic fluid around him, taking their template and becoming huge, melon sized cum factories. With a tremendous two foot long, black canine dick to match. His enormous feet slammed against the ground, growing clawed and powerful to match his enormous body, thighs and calves looking almost like a single block of veiny muscle.

Paul Torres panted, the new sensations overwhelming him. But is time merged with Conway had prepared him somewhat. His entire being, his entire soul had been transformed into that of a Deception Demon's. Though deep within, a mortal's light still shone, it willingly welcomed the demonic taint and even fuelled it. He lifted one massive paw towards his face, sensing the power within his veiny forearms and powerful fingers.

And he grinned.

"Oh fuck... Paul..."

He looked up at his creator and grinned. "Hey Coach. You couldn't get rid of me that easily."

Conway staggered forward, propelling himself on his knuckles just like a gorilla. Paul mimicked the movement, circling his master and learning all he could about moving as a Deception Demon.

"You're..." Conway began.

"Just like you," Paul rumbled with a smile. "And I fucking love it!"

Unsure whether he should feel guilty or not, Conway was at least glad that he hadn't killed a student as he had first thought. Then again, making him into a demon was arguably worse.

Paul closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Fuck... what is that delicious smell..." He licked his lips, still tasting the salty tang of Conway's cum all over him.

"That's Deception," Conway rumbled softly. "It's what we feed on. It's what we -"

Suddenly both demon's ears perked and they both turned towards the west. Something came rushing at them from that direction and the felt the earth shake violently. Paul, still getting used to his new body tumbled and Conway immediately rushed to him, catching him in his arms. They both fell into the thick pool of cum, holding onto one another as the gym shook. Dumbbells fell off the rack and weights rattled.

Paul buried his muzzle against Conway's chest and the bigger demon held his young against him protectively. They both squeezed their eyes shut. Whatever was causing the earthquake, it also made it hard to breathe and there was an agonising sensation in their heads like someone scratching sharp nails against the insides of their skulls.

The tremor lasted for only a few short minutes but by the time it was over, both demons were panting and looking at each other in horror.

"You said you turned into a demon and made one of those quakes..." Paul said.

"So that means..."