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Ashley's hands tremble as she cries, gun unsteady in her grip as she struggles against the command of the parasite. A shot narrowly misses Leon's head, his face scrunched in agony. He's never feared death. Not since 1998. Staring down the barrel of his own gun, ironically, a way he'd imagined dying many times. Ashley's finger wobbles on the trigger. This one's gonna hit, he knows it - she knows it. This is the end.
"Stop!" an unfamiliar voice cuts through the sobs filling the room. Saddler sighs, turning to face the source. "Don't kill him!"
"He's a heretic in need of disposing," The priest narrows his abnormally bright eyes. "I can't have him running around and ruining our plans, my lady" 'My lady'?...Leon guesses you must be another member of Valdelobos aristocracy.
"Give him to me" you pout "I'll keep him in line" Figures. You seem entitled.
Osmund grunts, followed by the sound of metal clattering to the ground. Ashley gasps in relief when her body involuntarily drops the gun. "Just keep him out of my sight."
A wicked giggle echoes off the walls as you get what you want. Saddler has his minions drag Ashley away, her screams falling on deaf ears, and leaves Leon paralysed in place for you to do as you wish. Nails, sharp like claws, trace the prominent black veins under his skin. Your touch is cold and greedy like a vortex, stealing the warmth away from him. Everything about you sets him on edge. "I think you'll do nicely" you grin, the corners of your mouth stretching unnaturally far and, for a second, Leon's sure your skin will split open.
The world fades to black as an overwhelming pain throbs in his skull. When he comes to he finds himself in front of a lit fireplace, head spinning and brain foggy, he blinks a few times to recalibrate his vision. The first thing he notices, which he vaguely regards as strange, is that he seems to be laying on some sort of cushion. The second thing Leon notices, which immediately pulls him back into reality, is that he's been stripped of his clothes. Not just his expressive coat this time but every item of clothing.
"What the fuck-" he hisses, jumping to his feet - or at least he tries to until a chain tugs at the metal collar around his neck and he falls to his knees. Chained, naked and in an unfamiliar environment. Just another day for Leon really, only this time a safeword isn't going to save him. Whipping his head around frantically, he notices the decor of the room - a bedroom and a rather fancy one at that.
"You're awake!" You announce with glee, stepping out from behind a privacy screen. A burst of both rage and embarrassment spark to life in Leon's gut and he quickly covers his delicates with both hands whilst trying to rise to his feet in some instinctual attempt to fight. You only laugh as he stumbles. "Don't try to stand. There's only enough length on that chain to crawl" your words come out breathy and amused. This is some kind of game to you.
"What kinda sick shit is this?" He barks, practically snarling up at you, although it's difficult to look menacing with those American girl doll teeth.
"Oh, calm yourself, little lamb. I'm doing you a favour"
"You think chaining me up like an animal is doing me a favour?" Leon scoffs in return.
"Lord Saddler would have had you killed or worse - put to work as some kind of soilder. Haven't you fought enough? Aren't you tired of it?" The more you talk the more Leon's brain turns to mush, your voice like a hypnotic lullaby. It's involuntarily, the way he drops his arms back at his sides, his muscles realx to the point he feels like jelly. All loose and sluggish. "I couldn't let such a fate befall a pretty thing like you"
Somewhere in a faraway whisper, Leon's conscious tries to break out of this trance. "Wh- what are you saying?"
"Shhh" you hush him with a finger to his lips "quiet now, no need to think anymore. Just be a good little pet, that's it"
No, this isn't right. But it’s becoming difficult to remember why... The parasite in his bloodstream pulses and buzzes with the thrill of the attention. It makes his dick twitch. Yes my queen. Tell me how to behave my queen. The sensation of your finger pushing past his lips, exploring the wetness on his tongue, sends even more of his blood flowing south. This is wrong. He reminds himself, fighting hard to regain control. This is dehumanising. A small spark of autonomy comes back to him and it's a mere reflex to bite down on the intrusion inside his mouth.
A pained hiss follows, finger yanked back with blood spurting in it's wake. "You foul, wretched mutt" you shout, backhanding him hard across the face. The blow sends Leon down, hitting the freezing stone floor. "You need to be taught some manners"
"Screw you" Leon growls back, one side of his face stinging and red. He watches as you walk away, long dress dragging behind you. Does everyone in this place dress like its still the victorian times? At least you're easier to look at than Saddler or Ramon, still relatively human looking except from your clawed fingers and wide mouth.
Watching you rumage around through a chest in the corner of the room, Leon's mind begins to drift to Ashley. Where did Saddler take her? What were they doing to her now? Guilt and worry chew at his frontal lobe harder than any parasite could, exposing raw nerves and primal fear. It had to be different. That's what he'd promised himself. Now look at him, enslaved to another cruel mistress. So deep in retrospection, he doesn't notice you approaching until your hands are on his face. A dry leather material irritates his supple skin and he shakes his head in attempt to free himself from whatever contraption you're attaching.
"Much better" you announce, pleased with yourself having muzzled your new beast. It's an old dusty piece of equipment but it works well enough.
"Ywr pthetic" Leon's words are muffled. Shame has really started to soak in now, what would his colleagues think if they could see him like this? Prized agent of the D.S.O reduced to a plaything.
"Oh I'm pathetic?" You laugh in his face, flashing that same horrifying, stretched out grin. "That’s funny considering how you look right now"
"Wht r'yw gnna do w'me?" The question comes out clumsily now his jaw is locked in place but his meaning is clear. He wants to know why you're doing all this. There's obviously an end goal or else you'd just have let him die to begin with.
"You're going to be my puppy" you clasp your gnarled hands together and bat your eyelashes. It seems easy enough. To just crawl after you and whine for a soft hand in his hair rather than a palm across his face. No more grueling missions or fighting for his life. Sure it's demeaning but what does that matter in the grand scheme of things? Obviously that's the parasite talking. Or at least he tries to convince himself. Can you really blame him after years of rigorous training? It's engraved in his brain to follow commands. 'Yes ma'am.' 'As you say ma'am.' 'Right away ma'am.' He's always been a good boy. So what if his cock gets hard everytime you pull on his muzzle and force him around like a doll? That's just the plaga side of him.
The remaining human part of his mind runs through a wheel of responses before settling on "fuck you! I'm not some dog" Gripping a fistful of his hair, you yank him closer, the parasite in his veins screams in fear. Your anger exudes into the space around you and seeps into Leon's infected brain. I've upset my mistress, I need to be punished. His body betrays him, forcing him still and to accept whatever fate you deem him worthy of.
"I don't think you're understanding that this isn't a choice" you sneer. The force in which you pull his hair makes his scalp burn and eyes tear up. He's sure you'll rip a chunk out with the way things are going... but to his surprise you release him. Fishing a key out of the hundreds of ruffles and folds in your dress, you unlock the restraint around his neck. Are you letting him go? Of course not. What a stupid thing to even think. You're going to do mutch worse than restrain him - you're going to turn his mind and body against him. "Crawl to me" you demand as you retreat a few paces and sit at the edge of your queen sized bed.
There's no way he would- but he does. Before he can even blink his knees are against the hard floor and he's dragging himself to your feet. The control of the plaga seems to have doubled, so eager to bow to its fair lady. He tries to stop, muscles straining so hard he gets lighthearted, to no avail. Though his mouth was mostly hidden, it wasn't hard to miss the way he was glowering. Drooling like a true mutt, his body was shaking with the effort of trying to will it back under his own authority.
"Stop that before you burst a blood vessel" you scold him by swatting at his muzzle. The permanent headache pounding in the back of his skull intensifies and sends his vision cloudy. The faint candlelight flickering behind you smears out in faint streaks, giving you a translucent halo. Even his own eyes were telling him to give it up. Let you be his new deity, bow down and live in blissful ignorance.
Neck craining to watch you rise, Leon's eyebrows raise when you begin to pull down your dress. Letting it sink to the floor, you unlace the stiff corset beneath with a practised speed. And then you're... naked. It's not a bad sight either - considering. There don't seem to be any apparent anomalies or mutations growing from your flesh. "Mnm wuh're you...?" He asks with a hint of disbelief, the confusion and slight panic only intensifying as you position yourself on the bed.
On your hands and knees, pussy right in his face, you look over your shoulder at him. "Up" you speak so calmly, like this is completely normal.
"Wa- no!" Leon attempts to argue but his limbs betray him yet again. He's up on the bed right behind you, eyes unable to leave the sight of your weeping hole. There's just no way this is happening. He can't process it. "Y'can js uth me lke um toy!" This is disgusting, this is... this is vulgar. The thought of being forcibly made to screw like a mindless breeding pet makes his stomach churn. This can't happen, please.
Wiggling your hips, you let out an impatient puff of air. "Hurry up and mount me, you dumb dog!" That shouldn't make his cock drip precum. It shouldn't make his mouth water. Shouldn't make his hips jolt. That pressure in his head starts to numb the longer he gawks at your open cunt. A sense of peace washes over him as he pushes himself ontop of you, arms bracing his weight on either side of your head. His spit drips steadily onto your shoulder and neck as he tucks his face into the crook of your shoulder. He doesn't want this. He doesn't! It's gross.... it's.... it's, getting harder to think the closer his dick gets to the heat of you. The contrast between your cool skin versus the radiating warmth between your legs sends a shiver down Leon's spine. Everything about you is confusing.
A whine slips out as his tip brushes your slit. He drops some of his weight onto you, unable to hold himself with the overwhelming sensation. "Mm...nn not ryt, s'not ryt" he whinpers as his cock slides into you on it's own accord. "Don'wnt thi- hm fck!" His complaints are cut off when his balls slap against your fat lips. Mentally he's fading... losing any will or conscious. Fuck, breed, please. That's all that remains.
"Ah, that's it doggy, just let it take over. You know you like it" your taunting is lost on him now as he thrusts in and out. Panting and slobbering, he stares down at the crimson sheets where his fingers dig into the material for purchase. More whines fall from his spit soaked lips as he tries to lick at your skin through the cage on his mouth. Fuck, breed, please my mate.
It's not long before he's forgotten where he is, why he's here, how he got in this situation. You officially broke him. His moans are loud and desperate, pistoning into you so hard that you'd go flying out from under him if his weight wasn't keeping you in place. "Fll y'up,need t'fuck thif cm into ths cnt" he growls like this is his mission. In a way, it is. His new purpose. Breed. Fuck. Breed. Cum. Fuck. Breed.