Date: Sun, 8 Feb 2009 23:49:44 -0600 From: txmount@gmail.com Subject: The Change Cage - Pride and Punishment This story is a work of original fiction, and as such is completely copyrighted by the author. Permission is given to the owners and agents of the Nifty Internet Archive to display this work of fiction as they see fit, and is explicitly refused to all other entities. Fictional actions have their own rules, and do not necessarily generate the same consquences in the real world. The author holds no responsibility for actions 'based on' or 'inspired by' this work of fiction. So, don't have rough/nonconsensual sex, practice unsafe sex, engage in sex outside your species, use genetic-engineering techniques to scramble other beings' DNA, or enslave and segregate any entity whose DNA differs from your own. (Unless you're really into that sort of thing) Please direct any feedback to TXMount@Gmail.com. Especially feedback with pictures. -------------------- The Change Cage - Pride and Punishment I don't remember how I got here. It seems like I've just always been here. New guys come in all the time, so I know there's something other than this place. I try not to think about it. The new guys that think about it too much.. don't last long in here. They put us in cages. Some of the ones here are actually criminals, but mostly we're just different. Some of us are farther along in the change, but they keep us all naked. Animals, you know. Don't need clothes. I'm far enough along to have a dusting of velvety fur all over. I never cared about modesty much anyway. Fuck 'em. They think we're less than human, dangerous, so they lock us up and forget about us. Maybe they're right. But they try to make us fight, to entertain them.. and that makes me think the wrong ones are in the cage. We're in a fight cage right now, four of us. We know each other already and we're not going to give them their entertainment. We're sitting in the corners of the cage, doing nothing. One's sleeping, one's rocking.. me, I've wedged myself up in the roof supports and I'm feigning sleep. If they want to watch us, here's my furry ass, watch all you want. There's a new guy, too. He's pacing. Muttering. Doesn't like the plan. Thinks we should fight, give 'em their entertainment and then get left alone for a while. He's getting on my nerves. He still looks like the normals. Tests proved otherwise, or he wouldn't be here. He's a stumpy fucker, barely comes up to my chest. 'Course, I'm taller now. They shaved him when they locked him up here. Make sure there's no bugs coming into the cages on him, they say. More like to strip away any illusions he has of being a human, I say. It's growing back in, bristly honey-brown on his head, redder on his face. He's muscled up, like all of us. Sweat shines on him. They keep the fight cages hot. Keeps the tempers short. Mine, anyway. I've had enough of his bitching. I drop down smoothly, grab him by the scruff of the neck before he realizes I'm behind him. Pick him up and slam him into the wall. Holding him off the floor, so our heads are nearly level. His face is pressed against the wall so hard, it's all squinched up. I can smell the fear on his breath. I can feel myself stiffening against his ass. The others in the cage are watching now, silent but alert. THEY're out there watching, too.. it's not a fight but there will be entertainment anyway. I pin him to the wall with my body, throw my arms wide and dig my claws into the wall to steady me against his struggles. He's strong. I'm stronger. My face is close to his, the air is thick with his sweat. It's so humid it feels like drowning. He's slippery against my body, wriggling to break free of me. Almost, but not quite.. I grind against him harder, holding him still, and feel a trickle of fluid escape my cock. Now he feels me stiff and hot against him, too. He goes so still, I know I've got his attention. "You don't make the decisions here. You're just meat. And to illustrate the point, I'm gonna breed you like a bitch. And then everyone here who outranks you can have a turn. And that's *everyone* else." He's slippery back there, from his sweat and my excitement. The pointed head of my cock nudges into him with hardly any effort. He starts to struggle again. All it does is drive me deeper into him. I'm halfway in and going deeper. He doesn't yell for help; he knows there won't be any. Just the grunts of effort and pain as he tries to move my bulk. He keeps fighting it, squeezing hard around my shaft, trying to force the intruder out. It won't work; I'm too hard, too deep. All he's doing is making it feel better for me. I'm all in now, my hairy balls tickling between his cheeks. I wriggle my hips, letting him feel my length. He's still fighting it but I can smell what I can't see; he's fully erect, foreskin peeled back far enough that I can almost taste the mustiness there. I can smell the mushroomy scent of the fluid dribbling out of his cock. The other two are very near, watching, scenting the air. Both are erect and leaking; waiting their turn in establishing dominance. Their pheromones mix with his, and mine, hitting me like a truck. Can't think, there's only the scent and the feel. I lunge my head in and sink teeth into his shoulder, growling into his flesh. It's time. Liquid pours out of me, hot and salty, filling him, marking him. Liquid oozes from his shoulder, hot and salty on my tongue, completing the circuit. He's not fighting now, with the heat of my seed in him, the sting of my teeth in him. He's pushing back against me, writhing and matching me growl for growl. His human brain may not understand but the beast in him knows its place now. I step back, pulling free of him in one long slide, and one of the others takes my place just as quickly, sinking home in one long slide. He barely grunts; I've left him well open and thoroughly slicked. I move to the side to watch. He turns his head to stare at me, hate and lust warring in his eyes. He's strong now, and still new. As he changes, he'll get stronger. He bares his teeth at me in a silent promise. One day, the power will shift, and then we'll see who's meat for whom. I look forward to it. ----- Once upon a time, some military scientists thought it would be a good idea to improve their soldiers, and so they decided to make an ingenious little retrovirus. The viruses would carry snippets of genetic code into a host, and busily rewrite the host's DNA to include nifty new abilities, like enhanced hearing or superior reflexes. Then the sterile viruses would die out so that only the home team would have super soldiers. Apparently, the genius scientists failed to properly explain the "dying off" part to the viruses, which proceeded to copy some information from the original hosts, and infect new hosts, then repeat the process ad infinitum. Instead of a select group of superior soldiers, what they ended up with was a rampant infection that scrambled genetic codes in almost every species it encountered. While the eggheads had had the foresight to create an antigen, they had failed to produce enough of it to counteract their colossal fuckup. Certain `important' people were vaccinated against the plague, and the rest of the continent was left to burn. Initial projections indicated total global infection in 8-10 months. However, the strain of virus that failed to die off properly also failed to carry out its Frankensteinian work with the intended efficiency. Some hosts were `modified' with DNA from their own species, and saw no obvious mutations. Some hosts successfully fought off the infection before widespread recoding could happen. Some hosts got `trash' DNA that resulted in cancers instead of changes. Some few potential hosts had complete immunity and were never infected at all. When it became clear what was happening, the government disintegrated under the weight of public outrage. The nation fractured into dozens of discrete enclaves defined by their response to the plague. Some segregated the infected. Some forcibly ejected or executed them. Some places actively sought a cure for the infected. Eventually they realized there was no cure, only prevention. A new political power emerged; the corporations who now controlled the vaccine. Inevitably, greed replaced paranoia; the vaccine became more and more expensive, until society settled into three distinct strata: At the top, the Saved; those who could afford the vaccine or who had already been dosed. In the middle are the Lost; those who remain at risk of infection, and live their lives at the mercy of random chance. At the very bottom are the Damned, the Infected; the Changed. ----- His eyes stay locked to mine as the others take their turns. He's not struggling anymore, and I can hear the faint whir of the cameras as his humiliation is recorded for the pleasure of our audience. I'm hard again, watching the others use him, and when the last finishes, I take another turn. He's open and thoroughly slimed with what the three of us have left in him. With barely a push, I sink in almost to the hilt, feeling warm liquid ooze out around my shaft and drool down my balls. I'm slower this time, gentler. I angle my hips to stroke myself across his sweet spot, and am rewarded with the scent of the clear fluid being coaxed out of his cock. Gripping his hips, I raise him from the floor enough to reach around and grip his shaft. While the others took their turns, he had gone soft, but now he's firming up again. I rub my length against his prostate, and catch the juice I'm working out of him, smear it across his shaft and resume gently stroking him in time to my thrusts. He's whimpering now, fighting a different battle in his mind. I lean forward and nip gently at the back of his neck. A wave of goosebumps rolls down his body, and his back arches involuntarily, pushing against me and drawing me deep inside him. I whisper in his ear, hot breath carrying words too quiet for the watchers to hear. "It's OK, pup. You don't have to fight it, just feel." Tiny tremors are rocking him now, and the feel of him trembling around me is almost too much. My breath comes in shudders, making my words shake. "It's OK if it feels good, pup, don't fight it, feel it, feel it." I grind my hips side to side, rubbing my thickness across his magic button, and he rewards me with a low guttural groan of pleasure. I tighten my grip on his prick, working the foreskin back to expose the sensitive head. Lightly, lightly, I stroke the callused pads of my fingers over the head, and he cries out, spittle flying as he shakes his head wildly. I'm at the end of my control. I know my pace has grown ragged, like my breath. He's shoving back to meet me, pushing me far past the point of no return. My whispers have grown harsh, frantic. "Oh, cub, OK, it's OK, it's good. You can go, pup. I'm about to pop, cubby. Go with me. Let it go, let gooooooOOOOH!" I feel him go, clamping down tight around me as his orgasm rocks him. I hear thick, wet splats as he shoots, feel the scalding heat on my hand, smell the meaty scent of him. I shove forward as if I'm trying to crawl inside him, throw my head back and roar approval as I hose down his insides with my cream. I draw my hand back, lick it clean, savoring the smoky, bitter taste. Beneath me, he collapses forward and rolls to his side, panting in harsh, rasping gasps. A raucous buzz splits the air, and the cage door chimes metallically as the locks disengage. Show's over, th-th-that's all folks. The other two are helping him to his feet. He wobbles like a newborn colt, but he's up. I summon the will to rise to my feet, staggering a bit as my knees tremble. The four of us shoulder thought the gate and down the passage beyond it, making our way back to the city.