Limited Options

Year 3 Day 21 The Day’s First Duel

by Circleair

Tags: #cw:noncon #D/s #exhibitionism #f/f #f/m #furry #m/m #nb/nb #ritual_of_the_familiar #violence

Violence in this chapter.

The entire area surrounding the main dueling circle is packed. Third years line the front with groups of first and second year scattered about. A few fourth-year magi flaunt their mastery. Looking down from atop various summoned or conjured columns. A few watching from the rooftops of nearby buildings. Magic glowing faintly in the air in front of them providing a closeup view of the circle.

This is the main academy dueling circle. The largest and most elaborate. The circle sits atop a large piece of shaped marble with three steps leading to the arena. Concentric rings of runic arrays circle the outer edge. Once activated it’ll protect the gathered crowd from stray magic, prevent a challenged from fleeing, and when used for a familiar challenge duel, initiate the soulbond. Irrevocably binding the loser to the winner, subsuming and reshaping the familiar to the new magus’s desires.

The area in the arena is different, malleable, reactive, and easily repaired after a duel.

Emma and Ramona, Take One

As three apprentices approach, the crowd opens a path to the circle. Stopping at the first of three steps. Alberta waves the other two forward, “You two go first.”

Ramona, still holding Emma’s arm takes the second step pulling Emma along in her excitement.

Victor’s voice yells out from the other side of the circle. “I claim her.” Pointing at Ramona. “I claim Ramona!”

Emma, holding Ramona, preventing that last step. “Alberta!” and quieter as she passes, “Don’t forget what Calvin’s advice.”

Alberta bounds up the three steps into the circle. Victor, “No! Not you, Ramona. I’ll take her like Grace was stolen from me. She’ll walk in and surrender because she knows what’ll happen if she doesn’t.”

Moving to take a step back out of the circle, Victor runs into a wall of ice. Shoved as the wall crumples into the circle, Victor stumbles fully into the arena. “I’ll have you flayed for that.” Turning to scan the crowd. Taking a moment to compose himself before turning to face Alberta.

Glaring, “Alberta, not who I wanted. Surrender now and my father will pay your family handsomely.”

Alberta, trying to wear a demure look while watching Victor, strides forward before dropping to her knees in the center of the arena. “How much?” Sliding the pen from her sleeve, she begins inscribing.

Victor, taken aback from the response, pauses. “Enough.”

Alberta, attention never wavering, “Enough for who? My father? What about my mother and sister?”

“Yes, yes, enough for all three.” Curiously stepping closer. “What, are you doing?”

Sparing a half second glance, “A ledger. No time for formal negotiations and a familiar knows what their magus wants. That and the crowd should make sure you keep your word.”

In a flash of rage, Victor brings his aura up, tendrils whipping about. Stomping forward as Alberta finishes the ward and pours mana in. Rocking back and standing as Victor cast. The resulting stone spear sliding harmlessly off Alberta’s shield.

Stepping back, Alberta raises a hand and conjures a barrage of cinders over Victor. Who pulls in a group of tendrils strengthen the top of his aura and sneers.

Nodding, Alberta summons a large ring and casually tosses it at Victor, who intercepts it with a tendril. Instead of being batted away, it flips and encircles the tendril, shrinking and locking on. Noting the tendril is locked in place, Alberta summons another, tossing it to fall amongst the writhing tendrils.

Victor, momentarily obsessed, tries drawing the tendril back, but is stopped as it reaches the binding. Drawing in a mass, forming a larger tentacle as it pulses down the tendril using it to force the binding down slowly.

With Victor occupied, Alberta doesn’t waste time and creates a mooring spike, driving it into the arena floor.

Victor, “That’s it? That’s all you’ve got?”

Victor splits his aura’s tendrils then stretches each until they are as small as a quill, increasing his reach dramatically. Stretching the two bound ones, victor continues advancing. Casting an earth wave followed by a hailstorm. Alberta crouches and doesn’t fall to the wave then raises her arm casting a mana shield.

Victor strikes, while he is slow compared to the top rankers, he is a master of manipulating his aura. Each small tendril is tipped with a hard point. Alberta’s upraised arm is pierced as the swarm swings wide of her shield and strikes.

Stumbling back, Alberta raises her other hand, forming a wide band around her bleeding arm. “Wasn’t expecting that.”

Sneering Victor taunts, “Surrender now and I’ll let you out of your cage occasionally.”

“Cage?”

“That’s where all familiars will be kept once, I’m the Royal Magus of the Hawks Court. If you grovel convincingly, I may even let you out more than once a month.”

A horrid look on her face, “What a horrible thing to do!”

Victor brings a mass of tendrils together forming four large tentacles. Using three tentacles as legs to rise up and look down on Alberta, Victor forms the fourth into an oversized blade, poised to strike. The mass of smaller ones still waving about as if caught by a breeze.

Alberta, mana shield at the ready, steps back and to his side. Victor doesn’t even notice as he steps on the ward. Dozens of rings, varying in size from that of a finger to a manacle burst forth flying into the air. Alberta, using her enhanced control from the mooring spike takes control of them. Two clasp around two of the ‘legs’ a third around the blade and half a dozen more around some of the smaller tendrils.

With a force of will they’re all pulled down, slamming Victor into the ground as Alberta steps forward.

Struggling to rise, Victor attempts to pull his aura back but fails as Alberta keeps control. Growling, Victor activates his storage ring producing a stone rod. Calling up a dust storm to hide, he drops his aura. With nothing there, the binding rings drop.

Those watching react, howling for Victors blood as he uses a greater enchanted item.

Alberta forms a shield, raising it to block the rocks streaming from the storm. Victor reforms his aura, not bothering with tendrils or tentacles, this time forming a large blade.

Alberta blinded by the dust barely hears the sound of stone grinding. Half turning, shield held at an angle, she’s hit from behind by a mule sized boulder. Slammed directly into Victor’s aura, the lower blade slicing completely through her upper right leg.

On instinct, she slaps a binding ring on and tightens it. A stunned look as her leg falls. Held up only by the two binding, Alberta reaches for Victor through his aura grasping his shirt. Head tilting, shock setting in, Alberta falls backward, both bindings still in place.

Victor, about to declare himself the winner, looks down unable to draw breath. Spotting the glint of one of Alberta’s rings encircling his chest. Tightening as she falls. Halfway down, his ribs crack. Alberta hits the ground as blood starts pouring from Victor.

Half looking up. “I win.” Watching as Victor collapse as darkness closes in

*Slap*, *Slap*, then pain. Someone “Release the bindings! Now!”

Alberta twisting in pain, yells out as the bindings are released.

Minutes later, regaining consciousness, Solona kneeling by her leg. Wiggling her toes. “How?”

“Healer, remember.” Nodding to where Victor fell. Mei is tending him with her familiar behind.

From behind Master Woltman speaks, drawing her attention. “Hurry, we’re keeping him alive, you’ve got to make the change now.”

Nodding. Trying to sit up. “My arm?” Flexing her fingers before focusing on Victor.

His crushed chest fills out as the bones pop back into place.

“Good.” Master Woltman passes an amulet inset with a yellow gemstone with an orange tinge to Alberta. “Focus the change through this. I’m going to walk him for it.” Alberta places the amulet around her neck and focuses her will through it.

Victor decreases in size. While before he and Alberta would have been of comparable size, now he’s a full head shorter with all the accompanying bone, ligament, and muscle shifting to accommodate. Some of the extra mass is shifted to hips and breasts. Victor’s face takes on a softer hue as his ears grow rounder and outward. A soft pink interior, twitching at the surrounding noise. Soft wool replacing the hair on her head. A strip growing down her spine and lightly covering her back. Leaving her front clear, open and vulnerable. Victor’s cock shrinking, inverting, leaving behind a pair of dangling lower lips and a prominent clit.

A painful screaming ‘baa-ahhhgh’ as feet are reshaped, toes combining into split hooves, writhing on the ground unable to stand. The hands change next, three slim fingers and a thumb remaining.

The healers continue working throughout the change. At some point during the healing her shoe had been removed, her skirt sliced nearly to her waist and a sleeve removed.  Solona helps me sit up. “Wiggle your toes, I want to make sure everything’s healed.” Glancing at Citrine. “A sheep girl.”

Alberta wiggles her toes as she replies. “I know how to handle sheep. My father is a shepherd.”

“Thought of a name for her yet?”

Alberta holds the amulet up letting the sunlight play off a large central diamond. “People would die for a gem like this. Especially an enchanted on.” Looking down on what was once victor.  Tilting her head, studying.

Still dazed after the change, the as yet named (‘No, I forbid this!) wobbles to her knees. “Baa, baa-aa. Mistress?” A hand raised to her head.

Alberta speaking more to herself. “Victor saw himself as almost divine, untouchable, ruling over everyone and everything.”

Squirming around the sheepgirl shivers. (‘I’m meant to rule not serve.’) “Baa.”

Continuing, “He held everyone in contempt, including the other nobles. I’m going to spend the next few years reminding her, repeatedly, that she’s none of those things.”

As for her name. “Citrine. Her name is Citrine. Something worthwhile if worked with skill to bring out the luster.” Lips quirking, “Or maybe lust.”

Citrine (‘Victor. My name is victor?’) prostates herself as a wave of lust rolls through her.

Alberta repeats the name. “Citrine.” Finger tapping lips. “Too formal for every day use. Something shorter, ‘Triny’”

Citrine ‘triny’ bleats in acknowledgement. (‘change me baaaa-ck.’) Begging, “Sorry, sorry. Baa-ah. I didn’t.”

Falling silent as Alberta raises her bare foot. “Hmm. Who’s sorry?”

“Citrine is sorry. Baa.”

A cocked eyebrow in response.

“triny? triny is sorry. Baa.”

Citrine crawls forward, nuzzling. Reaching out running her face over Alberta’s foot. Pressing her scent into Alberta’s foot (‘that’s not. I should…’). Tasting her magus’s skin. A frison of protest leaving Citrine’s form.

Tapping the ground beside her. “Here, on your back.”

Citrine, stops licking and crawls up beside Alberta, turning over.

Leaning over Citrine, Alberta begins toying with her breasts. Grasping the bottom and pulling up. Strokes ending in Citrine’s nipples where she grasps and pulls hard. Alberta continues until Citrine, shoulders held back, pushes herself up following Alberta’s touch, (‘sweet painful pleasure, needing it to end, wanting it to continue.’). “Mistress, mistress, please. Oh please.”

Sending a stream of mana through the amulet a shiver runs through Citrine.

Nipples taunt drawing Citrine’s breasts up. A magical ring appears around the base of each breast. Tight enough to force them out, but not injurious. Alberta wobbles the breasts around. Watching as Citrine moans in reaction. Another set of rings appear, this time around the base of each nipple and begin pulsing, squeeze release, squeeze release.

Arms desperately flailing trying grab at Alberta’s hand but unable. (‘how, how will I concentrate?’) “Baa, baa.”

Following the stream of mana through the amulet. More changes are made, a slow building need for attention and an accompanying sense of shame.

Releasing her nipples, Alberta dips a couple of fingers in Citrines slick, “Almost.” Wiping them on Citrine’s hairless vulva. Alberta begins tugging on her lower lips. Sliding along, fingers pinching and pulling her fully open. More fingers dipping inside through the leaking slick. Coating her fingers, sliding them upward, around, coating Citrines clit. Again until the clit is fully engorged, red and begging for attention. More mana is focused through the amulet. The clit grows, the size of a small knuckle, crimson and pulsing in need. A finger placed under, tickling. 

Legs shaking, threatening to close. “Mistress! Baa. Mistress. They’re watching!” As a soft white explodes through Citrine’s mind and body. Twitching and panting as she calms.

A slap on the inside of each thigh keeps Citrine’s legs open. Channeling through the amulet, Alberta continues the changes. Increasing sensitivity, a heightened sense of humiliation, a sense of modesty, a physical need for attention from Alberta, and a driving need to submit. Each physical change echoed by a twitching aching clit as citrine’s cunt oozes slick. The changes keep occurring, minor physical ones at first then the mental, until Victor is only a faint screaming echo in Citrine’s mind. Every orgasm, every act of submission eroding what is left of him until only Citrine, ‘triny’, Alberta’s perfect familiar remains.

Using one hand to slide her hood back, Alberta brining a finger of her other hand to the bottom of Citrine’s clit creating a binding ring locked in place around the base of her clit. Keeping the clit at attention, needy, and sensitive. A twist of a wrist and Citrine’s legs lock, hips jutting upward as a shiver explodes from her center outward. “BBBAAAAAAA!” A scream from her mouth and slick shooting from her pussy accompany the final change. It continues until Citrine is a limp mess laying on the floor of the arena, quivering.

The flow of mana stops as the changes are completed and locked in place. Slowly stroking Citrine’s vulva. “That desperate feeling you’ve got. That’s your life now. Imagine the fun I’ll have when I put you in estrus.”

To finish a binding is created on each wrist and upper arm. Alberta folds Citrine’s arms up and locks the wrist and upper arm binding together. And last, a bind collar appears around Citrine’s neck.

Solona’s familiar helps me stand. Looking down at my leg, there is a thin scar wrapping it, but otherwise it feels normal.

Nudging Citrine with a foot, Alberta points at what was Victor’s clothes and items. “Bring that.”

Outside the circle a space is made for Alberta. Master Woltman walks over. “The amulet.”

As Alberta passes it over, Master Woltman remarks. “Everything he had is now yours.”

“What would you have done if he’d won?”

Master Woltman doesn’t even pause. “Based on what we suspect and will confirm with this.” Holding the amulet. “Victor wasn’t the first to try. Normally a few well-placed words or a show of force deals with the situation. If what we suspect is true, we’ll deal with the other parties involved.”

“And the obvious cheating?”

“Some students never leave.” Pocketing the amulet, Master Woltman continues. “It’ll be here at the academy, if you ever want it back. After all, it was part of him.” Pausing. “her.” Woltman, followed by a large schnauzer, turns and walks back to group of professors.

Citrine hunched over legs spread wide, a bundle clutched between her hands and mouth, makes her way to Alberta. Dropping the bundle she turns back for the rest. Thighs rub, lower lips caress her clit eliciting a jolt of pleasure and releasing a low moan. “Baaaaa.”

Citrine manages to awkwardly bending for the rest and makes her way slowly out of the arena back to Alberta. Who points down. Citrine immediately drops. Nuzzling the split skirt aside and licks her way up Alberta’s leg.

Alberta shifts the skirt to the side and pulls triny’s head in. Firmly holding and directing until Citrine, serving her new purpose, brings Alberta to a screaming climax.

Alberta summons her aura, directing a few tendrils to being teasing Citrine. Wrapping around each breast from base to nipple where they begin a slow steady milking. Another tendril slides down her back and into her ass, pulsing in time with Alberta’s breathing.

Citrine, mortified at the spectacle she’s making experiences a full body blush.

“Maybe I should have name you crimson. You’re certainly red enough.”

“Baa, mistresss. Please n.” As her protest is cut off by a group of tendrils, Alberta turns her attention to the next duel.

Show the comments section

Back to top


Register / Log In

Stories
Authors
Tags

About
Search