Thank you! I've always strongly identified with werewolves, so getting to explore how an identity forms around the changes was really fun. And I'm always a sucker for an evil woman treating people like playthings. Glad you enjoyed <3

Deranged girl who's so submissive she wants her hesitantly dominant girlfriend to get worse™ so she ties up and injects her partner with a hypnotic drug, leaving their mind wide open and confused, and starts pushing every violent, sadistic, cruel thought she can into her partner's vulnerable psyche.

Thank you!

Ashes and Embers
archiveofourown.org/works/71444951

Hunting Hound
archiveofourown.org/works/516384...

This story was partly inspired by Ashes and Embers by @lupaknight.bsky.social. it was a quick little story but it really caught my attention, go read it!

As well, the Warhound series, specifically Hunting Hound, by Kalliedora rattled around my head a lot with this one.

Links below!

This will probably get fleshed out into a full story once I get some more free time so stay tuned for that! I have a lot of ideas of how to torment a Paladin into losing faith, exchanging one master for another. Hopefully I can do them justice.

Thanks for reading! Can you tell I really like Hunting Hound? I was wondering what a fantasy variant of mechsploitation could look like, and werewolves are always a favourite of mine. The hound being a literal physical change yet so integrated with someone's personhood is an idea that I quite like.

"Rise, hound."

The Wizard clasped a collar around the Paladin's throat, a low rumble escaping the beast's mouth in needy anticipation.

"There's a rescue party that needs dealt with."

In her place, an eager, drooling pet. Faith, doctrine, and need fine-tuned into a monster utterly enthralled with the woman before her. Crafted into a loyal, desperate guard dog.

Who was she?

An Oathbreaker.

Who did she serve?

Her Mistress. The one who could admonish her sins. Who could forgive.

Moonlight glared through the bars in her cell like a vouyeristic eye. The Wizard stood before her, and she knelt. On her knees, she was still taller. A hulking mass of eager obedience and rippling muscle.

Gone was the virtuous, beautiful maiden, a symbol of hope and valor in a world of darkness.

How could her Goddess let this happen? Was it a test? If it was, she was failing. Years of her life, years of training and fighting without rest or reward, in the hope of creating something better: for what? The Paladin sobbed, a final, half-hearted prayer leaving her lips.

The full moon had come.

The pendant grew heavy, forgotten amidst weeks of torture, denial, frustration. It burnt against her flesh now. Every disgusting thought that pushed into her head from the Wizard's influence was another pang of guilt in her chest. Easier to forget. Easier to do as she wanted. To serve her.

The fantasy shifted. Her, kneeling. Begging, prostrating herself before her captor. Her heart raced. She imagined the Wizard's hands on her body, soft and gentle against her rugged form. A leash tightened like a noose around her neck.

She spent hours grinding helplessly against her pillow.

It didn't take much for a different kind of fantasy to occupy her thoughts instead. To take the Wizard, slam her against the walls of her cell and ravage her. Show her the beast she was turning her into. Fuck her fat tits, her pretty lips, let her claws run down her back in red streaks as she...

She was exhausted. It had been days since she slept. She knew it was the food. She didn't care anymore. She was so hungry. Like an animal she tore into it, bread and meat shredded between her fingers. It felt good. It felt right.

She fantasized about treating the Wizard like that.

Dragged back the next night. Again. Who was she? Who did she serve? Was she a person or was she a weapon? The questions were unending, the answers seemingly always dissatisfactory, wrong. She was starting to doubt herself, moonlight dazzling off the crystals like stars.

Being brought, dazed and delirious into a room full of shining crystals reflecting the moonlight in a hole above. Blood boiling as the Wizard asked her question after question. Who are you? Who do you serve? What does faith mean to you? On and on the interrogation went until she was left empty.

Day by day, forged into a weapon, less than human. Wailing in her cell, bones shifting under her skin. She was getting taller. Hairier. Her beauty that had earned her so many bumbling suitors fading under fat and muscle, features growing sharper. Teeth growing sharper. Anger growing sharper.