Ilya and Matthew 

By Strega 
Story Copyright (C) By: Strega
 1998 - All rights reserved.

Story not to be reprinted, or redistributed, 
without author's Permission.

If you wish to use the stories, or 
anything copyright by me, please e-mail me.
I'll also forward any mail to the author.

  Ilya and Matthew

 Ilya sat back on the pile of silk cushions and sipped at the drink that the General had prepared for her.  As she had suspected from watching him mix it, it was blood, milk and some kind of alcoholic brew she wasn’t familiar with.  She paused and let the scent of it permeate her nose; dog’s blood.  One of her favorites, and an unexpected treat here in a largely human community.  She smiled by raising the tips of her whiskers and raised her glass to the general.  Had he offered her human or some other sentient’s blood, it would have been an insult; pig’s blood or some lower animal, also an insult.  He had chosen shrewdly.
 Their discussions on the ongoing war had been proceeding for over an hour now.  He wanted more of a commitment from the Hestan clans represented here in Greyston; she wanted some control over how such forces would be directed.  They both knew that the battles to the South of Greyston would not affect the overall outcome of the war.  They would affect the local area significantly, though, and that interested both Lord Gray and Ilya’s elven allies in Celene.  Thus Ilya had traveled here in person rather than send an envoy.
 Since arriving Ilya had seen only the general.  Her mission here was a closely guarded secret; he had dismissed his slaves before she arrived, which she had done in disguise.  From the scent of it there were normally three other humans here.  There were several others here now, though, that were not human.  A strange metallic scent led her to think that there was an Aurumvorax here.  Also, a musky scent she remembered from her childhood informed her that at least two giant wolverines lived in the house.  They were males, and their odor was potent.  It must be their mating season.  Older scents included other humans,  blood, fear,  and the assorted everyday smells of a human house.
 Her curse gnawed at her, weak after her morning mating with her Khardaki attendant, but present as always.  The artifacts she carried were so potent that they had various side effects on her.  The most time consuming was her need to mate four or five times a day, an irritation made worse by her compulsion to couple with males of other species, even animals.
 A side door opened as the general mixed a second drink.  A bear-sized animal entered, having pulled the door open with one of its long-clawed forepaws.  Ilya watched it with increasing interest as it padded across to the general’s ornate chair and flopped down on the huge fur rug there.
 The animal was obviously a wolverine, but it dwarfed even the ‘giant’ woodland specimens Ilya had seen.  Its muscular neck was as wide as her waist, circled by a black leather collar with iron spikes.  The aura of the thing was plain to her; several enchantments of moderate complexity had been placed on the object.  One was responsible for the beast’s abnormal size.
 She turned her attention to the rest of the beast as the general returned to his chair and absently scratched the wolverine’s ears.  The beast was perhaps seven feet long from nose to rump; its short tail added little to its length.  Its arched back was higher than its shoulders and at least as tall as her breasts when it stood.  Its massive paws were tipped with curved white claws more than a handspan long.  The beast’s fur was long and shaggy, dark brown except for its golden facial ruff and side-stripe.  Its well-tended fur and rippling muscles proclaimed its strength and vigor.  It must have weighed close to thirty stone.
 Ilya was growing uncomfortably conscious of the fact that the beast was a male.  At this range its scent was overpowering, and her curse brought desire on her in waves.  She fought it off…for now.
 "An interesting beast, General."  Ilya absently twitched her orange and black tail and tried to appear nonchalant.  "What was he before you polymorphed him?"
 Matthew tried not to appear surprised.  Of course the arch-mage had her every detection spell active; she was on a secret mission, in a stranger’s house, in a strange city.  She was also probably the most powerful living mage on the planet, and if she wanted to know about Redfang, he’d tell all.  "He was a human warrior.  Since his change he’s lost some of his intellect, but he’s still very smart for a wolverine.  I’m afraid I spoil him; he has his own serving girl, assuming he hasn’t eaten her."
 Ilya couldn’t stay seated any more; she needed to at least touch the beast.  She rolled to her feet, her black-and orange mane swirling about her, and padded over to the general’s chair on her digitigrade feet.  Without hesitation she held out her hand for the beast to smell; he did so, his broad nose touching the pads of her fingers and then the small of her wrist.  She knelt next to him, touching the collar and then scratching the beast behind its ears.  The wolverine leaned his massive head against her, almost pushing her over.
 Matthew watched with interest and said nothing.  He had heard about Ilya’s abnormal urges, and had seen enough hestans to know when one was in the throes of overpowering lust.  She was scratching Redfang’s ears, her face lowered and concealed by her mane, but he could tell that she had knelt in exactly that spot so she could see the wolverines’ sheathed penis and judge his potential.  He could tell from the wolverine’s body language that Redfang was excited; the hestan woman must be radiating lust on her scent.  She might not know it, but the wolverine was used to having his own way; if he had bowled her over, he’d be on top of her right now humping way.
 If she let him.  Redfang was enormously strong and tough, but this woman’s powers were such that she could blow this fortified villa apart as though it were made of matchsticks.  Right now, though, her thoughts were obviously centered on how to most quickly get the wolverine to climb up her back.  He needed to get out of the way somehow; if she became frustrated it wouldn’t help the negotiations.  He wasn’t about to use Redfang as a bargaining chip.  He should get sufficient diplomatic advantage out of letting the wolverine hump her.
 "Ah…I dislike interrupting our negotiations, Your Majesty, but I just recalled an important meeting I must attend.  I will be upstairs with my far-speaking crystal…ring the chime by the chair if I am too long."  She ignored him, engrossed in her study of the wolverine.  Matthew rose and maneuvered around the pair, leaving through the hall that led to the stairs.  It was tempting to watch through his crystal, but the arch-mage would surely detect the attempt.  The last thing he wanted to do was anger her. 
 Ilya sensed the general’s departure, but couldn’t tear her attention away from the wolverine.  At least this time it was a relatively tame animal she was drawn to.  She wouldn’t have to use any magic to ensure her safety while she coupled with it.  Her mortification at having to seduce an animal was minimal; she had done this hundreds of times with dozens of species.  Never with a giant wolverine, though….
 She couldn’t pull herself away long enough to look for a bed.  The rug here would have to do.
 The wolverine must have weighed three times as much as she did, and none of it was fat.  She felt the scars of many battles under his fur as she feverishly ran her fingers through it.  The wolverine licked at the fur on her neck as he rose to a sitting position, letting her hands reach his sheathed penis.  It was barely visible in his long belly-fur, but as her hands finally reached it she smiled in anticipation; he was already partly erect, and huge.  She had been with other weasel-kin; giant weasels, a giant otter, a giant skunk, and a giant badger, and with Weres and beastmen that shared heritage with these beasts; the weasel-kin were always long, and this one was thick too.  Her scent had excited him; his member was more swollen and ready by the second.  As was she; no foreplay for her this time, she needed him in her now.
 She unclipped the triskelion clasp at her throat, and gathered her cloak up into a bundle, flipping the red silk to one side.  A moment later she was on her back on the rug, pulling off what scant clothing she wore over her tiger-striped fur.  She rubbed her thighs in anticipation as the wolverine rose to his feet, sheath swollen thick and furry beneath his belly, pointed black tip extended a hand's breadth..  He stepped over her with one front paw, then one hind paw; and as she spread her legs under his great shadow, he lowered his haunches onto her.
 Ilya hooked her feet over the beast’s muscular thighs, and the wolverine hunkered down atop her, sliding his sheath downward over her spread sex…oh, what a feeling that was.  And then his sheath dropped between her thighs, and his tip slipped into her as though it were the most natural thing in the world.  He obviously knew this position…Ilya purred at the hot touch, and then let out a mew! as his gathered himself and entered her.  Muscles bulged in his thighs as he arched hard, and he pushed anxiously into her.  Her soft outer folds came into rough contact with his furry sheath, stripping it back, and in a long, smooth slide he forced his entire thick length into her stretched tunnel.
Ilya snarled in pleasure and dug her fingers into his chest fur as the wolverine began to hump his haunches and thrust into her.  The beast was huge, hung even larger than her Khard bodyguard selected for just that attribute.  His furry ballsac slapped into her mound with each thrust, as he drove himself all the way into her, his cocktip pushing into her cervix and stretching it well into her womb.  Ilya writhed under him; if she hadn’t experimented with out-of-species sex, the wolverine’s huge cock would have hurt!  As it was, she wrapped her legs around the beast’s torso and hung on as he slid in and out of her, loud sucking noises telling of the tight pneumatic fit of their private parts.  The wolverine’s muzzle was all over her, he curled in a comma as his hindquarters thrust and his muzzle nipped gently at her and licked her.  She was out of control, but he wasn’t; he kept his four-inch fangs from ripping into her and his tongue busy until he finally began to shudder.
 Another good thing about the weasel-kin from Ilya’s point of view was that they didn’t come quick.  She did, shuddering through an orgasm almost as soon as the wolverine’s huge schlong slid into her.  Minutes later, she came again in a fit of screaming that would have brought the general running had he heard it…just as well he didn't.  The wolverine held out for a good fifteen minutes (quick for him, she was to find out later.)  Finally, as she began to tire, she felt his thigh muscles bunch and shiver; the wolverine’s arched back humped spasmodically, and his jaws gaped wide as he finally came.  She clung to the shivering beast and screamed as he spurted out his lust into her, thrusting hard and fast, snarling with each pulse of thick seed.  Eventually he finished, and as his cum cooled in her, withdrew his great member and sat next to her.
 It took Ilya a couple of minutes to recover; she noticed at once that the wolverine wasn’t even panting.  When she rolled to a sitting position he gave her a friendly lick and smiled at her in a beastman sort of way.
 It wasn’t hard to find a spell to let her talk the beast.  She spent a lot of time with animals.  A simple glamour and his snarls and growls were as easy to understand as hestan.  And of course she could just speak Common to him; changing into a wolverine hadn’t hurt his hearing.
 "You enjoyed that."  Ilya had seldom seen a male come so hard.  "If you come like that every time you must fuck all day."
 "It’s mating season.  It’s not usually that good.  And you had something to do with that too."
 "You have the scent of a human woman on you.  We have a saying, you know: ‘lovers have only one scent.’  You have a serving girl, the general said; I guess you exercise yourself with her?"
 "I’ve mated with ten or a dozen serving girls, but they can’t understand me, and sooner or later I lose my temper and eat them.  But now we have a woman whose only job is to mate with us.  She’s not afraid, and she knows what we like.  She’s the one who taught me to lick like that."
 "That was good.  Hasn’t the general ever gotten you a female wolverine?  Sex is always good, but with your own species there’s a certain…fit that is lacking in other exercises."
 "It’s not that easy.  A female wolverine would be too small, even a giant wolverine.  He’d have to get another collar made, plus she’d never mate with us outside of season, then she’d get pregnant…he’s talked about polymorphing a woman, but he hasn’t found the right one yet."
 "There’s another solution.  Find a woman who can change form!  It’s a relative simple spell."
 "Maybe for you, but not that many people that I knew could do that, and how many of them would change into a female wolverine just so a male could hump them?  Slaves are cheap, he can replace them, but hiring a mage to do that would be very expensive.  And we might hurt her; we’ve never really mated with a wolverine female before."
 "Not ever?  Do you know who I am?"
 "A hestan woman of great political clout, I guess, or the master wouldn’t have you here."
 "I go by a lot of names, but you may have heard of me as the Red Queen.  I’m a mage of great power, and I suffer from a curse.  It makes me crave sex, and often outside my species."
 "I wondered about that.  I’ve never been with a hestan woman before."
 Ilya had been idly playing with the wolverine’s testicles, and noticed a hit of firmness returning to his sheath.  "And I’ve never been with a wolverine before.  Might as well make it three firsts in one night, then."  She rolled over onto all fours, a complicated string of syllables purring from her lips.  First she grew, doubling in size; then her torso lengthened, her tail shortened, her fur grew out and changed color; her muzzle lengthened and her hands changed to paws.  When the change finished she was a black wolverine female with an orange facial ruff and side-stripe.  She settled herself, moved her tail aside, and looked back over her shoulder at the male.  Sure enough, he was standing, back arched and shivering.  Before she could speak, he stepped forward, instinctively straddling her and lowering his haunches.  As his teeth sank into the scruff of her neck she smiled; them growled as he entered her.  He still had a hundred and fifty pounds on her; the fit was tight but perfect.  There was no love-play now as he humped her; his instincts had taken over, just as she had wished.  Still, she enjoyed it, the pain and the pleasure, and it went on and on until she finally came, a huge fiery wolverine climax; her vulva squeezed tight around his shaft and he finally came too, a great gush of semen.  They fell on their sides together, him wrapped around her, as his seed spurted into a wolverine female for the first time in his life.  Finally they lay cooling off, he panting now after half an hour of solid humping, she tired as well.
 Later, she returned to her normal form as she petted him as he explained how he had lost control.  But he had enjoyed it, in fact he hoped she hadn’t spoiled him for anyone else.

 When Bloodripper, the larger, darker wolverine of the household,  entered the room a few minutes later, he found Redfang asleep next to a bejewelled hestan woman.  The powerful smell of mating had drawn Ripper from his room, and not knowing this woman, he expected that she was a new slave and his to do with as he chose.
 Fortunately for him Ilya was still in the mood, and decided to give him a treat as well.  Ripper was already hard, and when she fell on all fours he automatically moved to mount her.  Concerned with the difference in size, he moved carefully, and was doubly surprised when she spun under him and took his tip in her mouth.  Wary of her fangs, he arched his back, unsheathing himself for a blowjob.  Sure enough, her rough tongue was immediately busy as she worked up and down his member.  With her fingers locked is his fur, he couldn’t withdraw when she sucked so hard that he thrust uncontrollably into her mouth.  To his surprise, she didn’t gag; her throat opened and his foot-long member slid into its depths.  She sucked again, and he thrust again, then again, and finally fell into the instinctive rhythm, back arched, humping furiously away; only this time the woman under him on all fours was facing the wrong way. 
 Even Candra never did this, Bloodripper thought as he thrust and thrust.  Such a deep throat, and so soft…He began to shake…looks like she gets to swallow too….
 The wolverine’s whole body quaked, his claws digging into the rug as his orgasm exploded out of him.  A huge wad of wolverine semen shot from him and into the depths of the hestan woman, followed by another, and another.  When he finally withdrew there wasn’t a drop of seed to be seen; she has swallowed it all.
 When the hestan suddenly turned into a female wolverine  a few minutes later, Bloodripper realized that this was no slave, but he wasn’t able to hold back any more than Redfang had been able to.  He came so hard in her that time that he almost hurt himself.  And later, when he and Redfang were in her at the same time, Ripper in her pussy and Red on his back with his member in her mouth, he realized that this had to be the guest that the general had been expecting, the important one.  But he was too busy coming just then to worry about it.

 It took Ilya and the wolverines more than three  hours to spend their pent-up lust.  After three matings with each of them (including one oral with each and one anal caused by an overanxious Bloodripper unwilling to wait for Ilya to take Redfang’s cock out of her mouth), she was nicely sated.  Redfang had withdrawn to his rooms and Ilya sat with Bloodripper in the middle of the bearskin rug.
 The spell was still in effect and she had had a long discussion with Ripper about his work for the General.  It was apparent that he was mistreating these animals.  No wonder they ate their serving girls so often.  She could offer them much more profitable employment as citizens of Tian Fanor, where their killing skills could be augmented by serious training.  Not to mention that they would be available for her special needs.
 The problem was that the general would never release them.  It was a power game to him, controlling these magnificent beasts.  Something would have to be done, but overpowering the general’s excellent magical defenses would take several hours of study, more time than the canny general would allow her to spend with him.  Not to mention that his defeat and possible demise would have to be done secretly.  Lord Gray was too useful an ally to alienate.
 "Ripper…you said that the mage that you spent time with changed you, made you able to do things a wolverine couldn’t."
 "Ruhollah did change me a little.  I can stretch my jaws a lot wider than you’d think.  I’ve swallowed large dogs whole, and once one of my serving girls that bit my member."
 "Ruhollah?  Oh yes…The Maker.  You swallowed her whole?  Alive?"
 "I was angry at the time.  It hurt, but I managed it…I regret it now."
 "Do you think you could swallow me?"
 "You?  Why would I want to?  You’ve been very good to me.  Redfang, too.  I’ve never had such a pleasant evening…especially since I can talk to you."
 This might be tricky, but the wolverine wasn’t all that smart.  "I’m a mage of great power.  But with my power comes perversion.  I have to constantly seek new experiences."
 "If I swallow you, you won’t have any other experiences.  Unless you count becoming wolverine shit."
 "My magic will protect me.  Believe me, I’ve been in worse places.  After walking through the fires of Hell the inside of a wolverine is a mild climate.  And I’ll enjoy it."
 "I don’t know…what will the general think?"
 "He’ll probably enjoy the idea.  He’s jealous of my power anyway."
 "But how will you get out?  I might not be able to throw you up once you’re inside."
 "When I get tired of it I’ll magic myself out.  There are half a dozen ways I could escape.  I’ve been swallowed before, sometimes in battle, sometimes for my pleasure.  There’s a beast called a ziger…."
 "We have one of them here in town.  I saw him swallow a man once.  That’s where I got the idea to do it myself, and accepted when the maker offered to change me."
 "Well, let’s get on with it, then." Ilya laid her hand on the wolverine’s lower jaw, prying it open to expose the yawning cavity of his gullet.
 "Wait."  The wolverine’s snarl was muffled by her grip on his cheek.  "I could get in trouble for this.  What if the general decided to cut you out?"
 "Trust me, it’ll be fine."
 "If I’m going to do this, I want something in return."
 "Fair enough.  Since I want you to swallow me, it seem only fair that I swallow you first."  Ilya took her hands of his jaws and reached under him for his sheath.  In minutes the wolverine was eagerly sliding his cock into her mouth.  He came quickly, in just ten minutes; he had been quick the last time too.  It must be the unusual sensation, Ilya thought.  He also came hard, growling and hissing as he spurted out his seed.  Ilya swallowed (as usual- cum matted her fur) and licked the last of his semen off his member.
 The wolverine remained arched above her for a moment, then took a step back and sat, panting.  Ilya sat back onto her haunches, brushing against his muscled, furry chest, and looked up at the wolverine’s jaws.  He turned his head, looked at her with one eye, and then lowered his muzzle.
 His snout was triangular, like a ferret’s but much larger.  His mouth was as wide as her head.  But even when he yawned open to a jaw-cracking gape it looked impossible for her to fit in there.  Still, he had said he could do it.  Ilya checked her jewelry; nothing that could catch on his teeth.  A strand of saliva dripped from the wolverine’s jaws as she ran her hands over his sharp yellow teeth and across his tongue.  He waited, letting her decide if she wanted to go through with it.
 Ilya smiled at him and pushed her hands into his throat, carefully keeping her claws sheathed.  Rising to her knees, she forced herself farther into the crouching wolverine’s gullet.  Her head entered his jaws, his fangs scraping her scalp through her mane. When her face reached the back of his mouth, she lunged forward with all her might, forcing her muzzle and upper arms into his slimy gullet.  Wriggling her shoulders, she pushed into the wolverine’s expanding throat, the soft elastic flesh of it stretching to accommodate her.  With all her strength she pressed into him, and finally his jaws creaked wider, her shoulders sliding past the back of his mouth and into his throat.
 Her arms were stretched out ahead of her, wrapped in the hot fleshy embrace of the gullet, and through her hands she could feel the beast's strong pulse. She managed to wiggle a little farther into him by rocking her torso back and forth, but it was difficult going.  She was panting with the effort; he really was a tight squeeze.  Her magics let her breathe clean air in what would otherwise have been hot, dank foulness.  The heat of the wolverine’s body began to press though her fur now, as his saliva soaked her fur.
 She tried to press farther in using her strong legs, but the wolverine remained crouched, and she couldn’t get any leverage.  Her breasts were pressed against his tongue now, her nipples hard from the exotic sensation of being swallowed alive.   She flipped her tail forward and impatiently patted the wolverine’s cheek.  She could feel the skin of his face stretched tight with her inside.
 Bloodripper felt the pat and turned his ears back in disapproval.  Looks like she really wants to go through with this, he thought.  It had taken her only half a minute to press herself this far into his throat.  He would have to do the rest now, and quickly; he could only hold his breath for so long.
 Ilya felt the wolverine clamp down on her at last, as he began to press his muzzle towards the floor.  Her buttocks were forced into the rug as he leaned his weight onto her. She slid farther into his tight-stretched gullet as his muzzle descended toward the floor.  The wolverine finally stood, arched his neck, and pressed his nose all the way to the floor.  Her muzzle slid farther down his gullet, her arms leading the way.  She tingled with pleasure as his lower jaw slid over her belly;  when his nose touched the floor, his lower fangs pressed into her vulva.
 Her more practiced Ziger lover would have stopped to lick her now; but the wolverine hurried on, needing to take a breath perhaps.  With her in his throat up to her hips, he sat back on his haunches and threw back his head.  Her weight forced her perhaps an inch farther into him; a second toss yielded a little more progress.  Her hips felt the pressure of his jaws now; the top half of her was wrapped in the tight pressure of his gullet.  The wolverine’s heatbeat was all around her, a heavy thunder in the flesh pressed against her from all sides.
 Her legs dangled dangled awkwardly from his jaws as the wolverine swallowed for the first time, powerful throat muscles gripping her and trying to pull her farther in.  Her hips were still stuck in his throat, though.   She must be wider than his last victim.  A lurching motion told the partly swallowed hestan that the wolverine was moving; in a moment she felt pressure against the pads of her feet.  The wolverine pushed her against something, probably the wall.  Ilya kept her legs straight, and in a moment her hips squeezed past the tightness in the wolverine’s jaws and into his throat.  She would have gone in anyway, though; the wolverine wasn’t waiting for her help anymore.  With only her legs and tail outside now, the wolverine stretched out his neck and swallowed.  Warm fleshy gullet clenched around her, a form-fitting sheath that drew her downward with a series of ripples. Then again.  Now only her feet and tail protruded from his muzzle.  Ilya felt her arms slide through the strong ring of muscle that was the last barrier between her and the stomach.
 Finally Bloodripper closed his mouth on her feet, stretched out his neck and gave a last mighty swallow.  Muscles bunched in his neck as a powerful contraction pushed Ilya farther down.  Her face emerged into the hot rubbery space of his stomach.  The wolverine stretched, tensing his muscles, and the heavy lump of the hestan woman slid deeper.  Her hips gripped by his powerful swallowing muscles, the rest of her slid quickly in after.  The slippery interior yielded as she was forced in, expanding to accommodate her.  She slid into a fetal position, feet and tail still gripped by the ring of muscle.
 Outside, the wolverine felt the tightness as the woman slid into his belly.  A second, easier swallow and the uncomfortable feeling passed; she was all within his stomach now.  Except for her tail.  Six inches of lashing tail still protruded from his muzzle.  Its length tickled all the way down his throat.  He swallowed again, but the tail would not budge.  He pushed it into his mouth with a paw and swallowed, but it stubbornly refused to go down and popped back out of his mouth again.  He was considering biting it off (for really, how likely were the woman’s claims that she could survive this?) when the door opened and the General entered.
 General Matthew’s gaze slid past the wolverine as he glanced around for the mage.  Not seeing her, he took a step towards the beast and froze.  Several inches of orange and black striped tail protruded from the wolverine’s muzzle, and the animal’s tight-stretched belly told the rest of the story.
 "I don’t believe it."  Matthew approached, staring at the quivering tail.  As he watched, it spasmed one last time and went limp.  The wolverine pushed it into his muzzle with a paw and swallowed; now there was no trace of the mage at all except for the lumpy bulge of the beast’s stomach.
 "You swallowed her!  Guess she must have let her guard down."  The general scratched the wolverine behind the ears; with a –BuuuuurP-- the wolverine sat back, then rolled over on his side, belly vastly swollen.  "So you showed her the right way to deep throat!"
 "Good thing nobody knew she was here. Hopefully her allies will take it well!"  The general kicked at the flame-patterned cloak bunched up next to wolverine, and began to laugh, .  The archmage might be back from the dead one day; her kind didn’t have the good grace to stay gone.  But for now she was on her way to becoming a bowel movement for a wolverine, and that was good.  A pity her doubtless magical jewelry had gone with her; he’d have to have the slaves strain the beast’s shit for a couple of days, to see if anything survived.  Smiling, he returned to his seat, picking up the most important of the documents from the pile on his side table.
 The gorged wolverine slept, stomach churning as it tried to absorb this huge meal.  Inside, Ilya lay curled up, fingering herself in the pulsating sticky tightness.  Ten feet away, the General sat, his magical devices plainly visible to her mage senses through the wall of the beast’s stomach.  She pulled the last of her tail into the stomach with her and relaxed, studying the auras, as her own spells protected her from the digestive juices.

 Hours later, the wolverine still slept uneasily, his body slowly becoming aware that this new meal wasn’t digesting as it should.  Matthew awaited the return of his servants.  His one hired employee, Candra, had promised the slaves the treat of a trip to the bazaar.  It hurt nothing to be nice to the slaves occasionally, as most of them didn’t last long enough to become overly familiar.  And of course he had good reason to want them out of the house.
 The wolverine lay in the pool of sunlight from the magical skylight, still sleeping off his huge meal.  Occassionally he twitched and moaned, in a dream or nightmare no doubt brought on by an overly full belly.
 Matthew reached for his wine goblet, and to his surprise his hand fell short.  A sudden lassitude was upon him; he could hold his head upright, but that was it.  After a moment he thought Poison? But his magic defenses should have protected him.  What could have….
 Ten feet away, the wolverine let out a grotesque belching noise and stretched out his neck.  Matthew lifted his gaze with great effort and saw the beast’s neck bulge, then swell to twice its normal diameter.  With an obscene organic noise the black-furred beast’s jaws gaped wide and a pair of hands appeared.  Orange-furred handpaws gripped the jaws, and the arch-mage’s muzzle appeared, dripping mucus.  The wolverine retched convulsively and the mage was spewed out onto the rug, dripping steaming digestive juices.  She pulled her tail from the much relieved wolverine’s gullet and stood, fur matted, to study the general.  Except for the slime covering every square inch of her body she seemed none the worse for wear for having been in the wolverine’s belly for four hours.
 She turned and smiled at the animal, who was still sleeping, much more comfortable without the hard indigestible lump in his belly.  Then she faced the general again.
 "Hello, Lord Matthew.  I expect you didn’t think to see me again so soon."
 The general strained to reply, but his throat was as slack as the rest of him.
 "What, nothing to say?  It matters not.  This house reeks of blood, fear, death and supressed lust.  These poor beasts" - she gestured at Bloodripper - "Sate their lust with human women.  Why haven’t you obtained females of their species for them?  It must be within your resources."
 "I think you enjoy their antics, raping unwilling slaves – oh yes, I can tell that from the houses’ smell and aura.  Ripping apart those that will not cooperate.  Perhaps devouring others at your command so that you can acquire less willing mates for their amusement and yours.  How many women have they gone through since you transformed them?"
 The strain on his face showed that he was trying to move, but could not.  "How?" he managed to force out the one word.
 "I’ve had hours to study your magical defenses from within the beast.  They are formidable, yes, but nothing I cannot circumvent.  Do you know, once I study an enchantment sufficiently, I can bend it to my will, even to purposes not originally intended."  The dripping tiger-woman stood before him and gestured, hands moving from near to far apart as she sank down to all fours.  Strangely, the General found himself following, falling out of the chair, an odd sensation sweeping across his body.  When he too was on all fours a tingling swept across him in waves, almost blinding in its intensity.
 "For example, your protective device, this one here…she touched the hand carrying his Ring of Spell Turning, and to his horror he saw that his arm now ended in a brown-furred paw with long white claws.  He tried to move it, but it barely stirred.  He also now had a muzzle, he realized.  Barely able to move his head, he looked at himself as best he could.  All he could tell was that he was a large animal of some sort now.
 "Can’t move, Hmmm?  More’s the pity.  Actually, you can move a little, but not enough to see what’s really happened to you.  You see, Red and Ripper really need a female wolverine, so I thought I’ve provide them with one.  Oh look, here’s one of them now."  A brown shape appeared in his (her?) peripheral vision, then disappeared.  He felt a muzzle at his tail (?!,) pushing it aside, then at his vulva (!!).
 "It’s amazing how deprived the poor things were.  Why, I became a female wolverine for them and they just about ruptured themselves humping me.  Imagine their response if a female wolverine was in heat…."
 The general’s wolverine eyes widened in horror as Redfang began to mount her.  Her wolverine jaws worked, trying to warn the beast away…only to trail off into a squeak as the male pushed past her tail and entered her.  His teeth closed on the scruff of her neck, and the huge wolverine thrust with all his might into her.
 "He doesn’t know it’s you, of course.  Not that he would care.  Instinct is a powerful thing…."  Ilya scratched  Fang’s ear as the wild-eyed beast humped for all he was worth.  Noticing the female wolverine’s bug-eyed expression, she smiled cruelly.  "Oh yes, he’s a little big for you, isn’t he?  Well, Ripper is even bigger, and I think you’ll be meeting him pretty soon…about as soon as he sleeps off his stomach ache.  In fact I think we can expect him right after Fang here gets his rocks off.  And after that, you’ll meet Fang again, then Ripper…with a little help, I’d guess they’ll be good for oh, five or six matings each."
 Ilya smiled and watched for a bit as the huge male thrust into the shivering female wolverine.  "You know, I’m pretty sure he won’t come until you do…or at least it’ll slow him down.  You might want to start enjoying it if you want it to end."
 Much later, Ilya watched the brown wolverine shudder and empty himself into the female, finally withdrawing only to be immediately replaced by the larger, darker Bloodripper.  The female’s horrified expression had slowly changed to one of hatred, well suited to her wolverine face.  "Oh, don’t bother worrying about revenge.  Your pets here will be leaving with me.  And as for you, well, I put some thought into the spells I’ve woven about you.  With your ring strengthening them, they’ll be almost impossible to break.  In fact, I’m pretty sure that they won’t be able to tell it’s you.  You can scratch messages in the sand if you want, but they’re bound to assume that you’re just some poor women that was turned into a mate for your pets before your disappearance.  So it’s a good thing you trained your slaves to treat wolverines well.  After all, after tonight I think they’re going to have a whole litter of cubs to help raise…."

 And so it was.  When the male wolverines finally exhausted themselves, Ilya teleported them away, leaving the still partly paralyzed general in the meeting room.  Candra found her there, and treated her well.  Fortunately Matthew had the wits to not lash out at her.
 Months later, gravid with her litter, Matthew still planned revenge.  But though Colonel Dezayd had been to see her, investigated Matthew's disappearance, nothing had come of it.   And as Dezayd had just been promoted to replace Matthew in the guard, he was unlikely to visit again.  No amount of scratching messages in the sand had convinced the city officials that the new female wolverine was in fact the General.  Ilya had covered her tracks exquisitely.  Eventually Candra was given custody of the female wolverine and dismissed, moving back to her old dwelling.  There she helped her new ward raise a healthy litter of cubs…
 Matthew never found out that Candra knew that it was he.  For years he desperately tried to communicate his plight to others.  Candra was seemingly convinced that the General had tired of the reponsibilities of office and fled to another plane.  Evidence of this was eventually turned up courtesy of Ilya, who was happy to provide Candra with stud material for her wolverine, and buy the resulting cubs.  Finally Matthew grew resigned to his fate, and lived out the rest of a long life as one of Candra’s house pets and guards.  At least she treated him better than he himself had treated his slaves.

The End