Bark!! Bark!! Bark!!

The announcement comes through crackling speakers, the voice flat with the professionalism of someone who is painfully aware that they have the power to send everyone in a panic in a few words.

[There has been an incident in the latest rayshift. It is nothing major, but the Master will unavailable for a bit. Please do not force your way through Medical Bay, it distresses the patients.]

Slowly, Artoria (Caster, she who chants, current winner of the UNO game) lets out a deep, deep sigh.

“What, are you surprised? Really?” Oberon snickers, putting down his cards.

“I can be disappointed without being surprised.” Is there even a word for that? The opposite of surprise? When you witness a trainwreck and think yep, saw it coming?

Oberon huffs, as if he didn’t care, and then he gets up. “Well, you heard the announcement. Wait for your turn before visiting your pet, with the number of servants that will try to break the door down, they’re bound to get overwhelmed.”

“And you are getting ready to leave, because…?”

“I didn’t hear any rule about not freeloading their dreams.” With a wave of the hand, Oberon-Vortigern, insect of the abyss, turns into Oberon the fairy prince, all prim and proper. “I just have to see how bad they managed to get this time! This is golden mockery material.”

Classic Oberon. Worried, but unable to say it. Five layers of lies and truth at any given time.  Artoria sighs again. “Whatever, go. I was winning anyway.”

“Because you were cheating.”

“Blame the man who taught me sleight of hands, then.” She replies with a grin.

With a roll of his eyes, Oberon dematerializes, presumably to go check on Ritsuka. Artoria wants nothing more than to go with him, but she will have to be patient. She gathers the cards to put them away instead, pulling her owns out of her boots (hiding cards in sleeves is way too obvious. She’s learned to be stealthier.)

She hears some noises in the ceiling. Servants are already going buckwild, huh.

Well, it’s now time to find something to distract herself with until she can finally visit Ritsuka. The announcement was rather calm, so they probably weren’t hurt too badly. Still, she can’t help but worry; Ritsuka can be stupidly self-sacrifical-

The speakers crackle again. The voice that comes out is a lot less sure than the first one.

[We, uhm. We. We kind of lost the Master? They, uh, they’re not here anymore. If you see them, please redirect them to Medical Bay. Thank you.]

…

What.

What kind of incompetent fucking-

There is another noise in the ceiling.

…

Motherfucker.

She has to take a chair to reach the vent. She’s petite enough to fit in it comfortably, but it must be extremely cramped to anyone with a normal size. Frankly, the fact that anyone would find comfort in claustrophobia central, yet alone willingly crawl in here without threat of imminent death, is beyond her.

“Ritsuka?” She calls. “I know you’re in here.”

A pathetic whine answers her.

She frowns. She’d expected a verbal answer of some sort, be it banter or denial (especially denial. Boy does Ritsuka loves denial.)

Still, the answer gives her a vague idea of where they are, so she crawls in that direction. It’s dark in here. Even with her eyes, she can’t see shit.

Eventually though, she hears them again- specifically, she hears crawling on the opposite direction of her. It’s really close too.

Ah, she got this. She almost bumped into them, didn’t she? Her bad. She stops crawling, and the noise stops. “Ritsuka. Is that you?”

Another whine, more pitiful than the last. It sounds a bit odd. It’s undoubtedly Ritsuka’s voice, but it’s… too long? She doesn’t know how to describe it, but there’s something wrong with it.

Maybe that’s the “incident” the speaker mentioned. A speechless curse, perhaps?

“Here,” she extends a hand, “my room is close. Let’s go together, alright?”

There is a slight pause, and then fingers wrap around her hand.

The first thing she thinks is: it’s big. Ritsuka’s hands have always been bigger than hers (or rather, Artoria has always been shorter than most humans) but this one is much larger than she expected. This hand could easily wrap around her entire closed fist.

Then again, this is, very clearly, not a human hand.

It has pads. On the palm, and the fingertips. Claws, too, tiny prickles over her skin. On the back of that hand, she can feel fur.

There sure was a rayshift incident indeed.

“Come on.” She says casually. She will not flinch. She refuses to. “Follow me.”

Crawling backward is a hassle and a half. She can hear Ritsuka’s body bumping against the wall. Eventually though, she manages to drag herself out of the vent, and Ritsuka with her. Their body fall heavily on the floor, and finally, she can see them.

At first glance, they remind her of a fairy of the Fang clan. Fur, claws, tail- a human dressed in wolf skin. Artoria can’t read furry faces as easily as humanoid ones, but seeing how their ears are pinned back, how wide their eyes are- she thinks she can safely say that Ritsuka is currently really fucking distressed.

Ritsuka gets up on their hind legs. For a second, they seem absurdly huge to Artoria. Their shoulders have become broad, their whole body only made wider by the thick red fur. She could fit her arm to the elbow in that maw.

Then they take one step, and immediately tumble down.

It’s a bit funny. It should be funny. Artoria almost wants to laugh. But Ritsuka gets up again- and falls. And falls. Over and over. They scramble to their feet, dig their claws deep in whatever furniture is nearby to keep themself up, wildly wag their tail to keep balance- but they never can.

They can’t walk.

They can’t walk.

Their breath speeds up with every attempt. Panic settles inside their limbs. It makes them more frantic, which in turns makes them fail faster, which upsets them even more, which-

“Ritsuka!” She reaches out to grab them by the shoulder “Ritsuka, focus on me. You need to calm down-”

They twist their head and snap their teeth inches away from her face. She has no idea whether this was intentional or not- Ritsuka very clearly has no idea how to control this body. If this keeps going they’re going to hurt her, or worse, themself, so she has to put an end to this now.

“Ritsuka.” She snarls more firmly. Swiftly, she grabs them by the scruff of their neck, and slam them headfirst on the bed. “Listen to me.”

Ritsuka’s body goes still- they stop breathing at all, even, which is deeply worrying. Arrgh, Artoria is not the kind of person to assert herself so roughly. But Ritsuka needs someone to take charge for them right now, so she’ll swallow back her embarrassment and do her best.

“Breathe we me.” She keeps a hand on the back of their neck, both to stop them from struggling and to keep them grounded.

Ritsuka doesn’t try to get out of her grip, though. Slowly, they start breathing again, following her pattern. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Under her palm, she feels the tension progressively leave their body.

“Better now?”

A nod.

“You… can understand me, right?”

Another nod.

“But you can’t speak back?”

They open their maw, and from the depth of their throat comes something akin to: “Aah aaaah traaaaaan.”

No lips, unfamiliar tongue, and possibly wrong voice box. Yeah, she can’t blame them on that one.

Alright. Alright. She got this.

“Don’t try to walk yet.” She orders them as she releases their neck. She doesn’t know what the problem is, but now that she takes a closer look, the Chaldean uniform probably doesn’t help their endeavor. It’s one size too small, crafted for a human being, meaning the cuffs are so tight around their limbs it must be choking the blood circulation. “Roll on your back. I’ll get you naked. Your pants are hindering you.”

Artoria has never been more thankful that Ritsuka doesn’t care for their own nudity. Obediently, they roll over, and she can get them out of these constraining clothes. The sleeves get caught in their fur once or twice, but she can remove their top easily enough. Vaguely, she notes that they have six nipples, which. Mmh. She really shouldn’t be distracted right now. She works on their pants next, and-

Ah.

“Your body is built to be quadrupedal.” She tells them simply. No wonder they couldn’t stay upright- their very bone structure isn’t built for that. If the fairies of the Fang clan looked right in between a human and an animal, then Ritsuka’s current body is smack-dab between that of a fairy and a wolf; their limbs are too long, their front paws have thumbs, but they are still very much built to prowl and hunt. “You have to walk on all four.”

Ritsuka makes a drawn-out, pitiful noise.

“It’s not that bad. It’s like… one of our plays, you know?”

They don’t normally… talk, about their kinky stuff in their everyday life. Nor do they talk about the sex, really. What happens in the bedroom stays in the bedroom, and outside of it Ritsuka and Artoria just very good friends with unresolved romantic tension like a guillotine threatening to fall at any time. But if there’s one moment where Artoria thinks she’s justified in reminding Ritsuka that they are used to walking on all four for extended periods of time, it’s right now.

Ritsuka rolls on their side, looking straight at her. They can’t speak, but she can imagine their reply would be something along the lines of are you fucking kidding me or does it look even remotely the same.

… Though she could make it feel the same.

Artoria leans down, reaches under her bed, and pulls out a leash and collar. “Would, uh. Would this help? Long enough to help you get used to walking?”

They bark briefly, almost as a laugh- and then bare their throat to her.

It’s not the first time that Artoria has collared Ritsuka. Ritsuka is an amateur of roleplays and performances of all kind. As for Artoria- well, it’s mostly a sex thing on her side. Again though, now is not the time to be distracted. She’s here to help Ritsuka, and nothing more.

“Alright.” She says when she fastens the leash. It… would probably make things worse to call them puppy right now, though. She wants them to feel safe and cared for, not dehumanized. “Walk for me, kitty?”

Ritsuka rolls on their stomach, then props themself up on their four paws. Walking is a clumsy affair, but at least they’re. You know. Walking. Being graceful is secondary to being able to go from point A to point B on your own.

“You’re doing good.” She scratches them between their ears as a reward. “See? I told you you could do it.”

Ritsuka leans into her touch; the high stress made them starved for some positivity, she imagines. They rub their head against her hand- and then, inexplicably, shoves their nose against her wrist to take a deep breath.

Wait. Right. Wolf. Perhaps they have heightened senses now. “What, you like my scent that much?”

Ritsuka nods, because they don’t know what shame or embarrassment is and they always find it extremely funny to fluster her. Bitch.

Artoria feels the blood go up her cheeks. She averts her gaze, intending to regain her composure- but her eyes are draw by a single red spot below Ritsuka’s waist. It takes her a couple seconds to realize what it is.

That’s Ritsuka’s dick. Ritsuka’s dick, poking through the fur. Ritsuka’s dick, starting to unsheathe.

That’s not- a boner. Not yet. By human standards, this would barely qualify as half-hard.

But it’s a dick. Poking out. Ritsuka’s dick. Ritsuka’s dick, just the tiniest bit out. Ritsuka’s dick, and, presumably, arousal, starting to rise.

Petplay isn’t a sex thing for Ritsuka, as far as she’s aware. But considering the amount of time petplay, being naked, and petplay while naked lead to sex between the two of them, she can hardly blame them for being subject to Pavlov’s reflex boner.

This is fine. This is fine. Artoria is sooo normal about this. It’s just a dick. She’s seen lots of dicks! And lots of Ritsuka’s dick specifically! There’s no need to wonder about what that fur might feel like rubbing against naked skin, or if they can knot, or- damn it! Normal, she said! She’s being normal about this!

Softly, Ritsuka drags their tongue across her wrist, as if they wanted to taste her.

She is SO not being fucking normal about this.

“W-well,” she stutters out. Normal, we said. Soooo normal. “Now that you figured walking, wanna try moving some more? The more you get used to moving like this, the more in tune you’ll be with your body.” And the less dysphoric they’ll be, she assumes, though she has no idea how well they’re taking this body considering they cannot talk about it.

Ritsuka quirks up an… well, not really an eyebrow, considering their entire face is made of fur, but it’s visible regardless.

Artoria unclips the leash, then throws it on the floor. “Wanna wrestle?”

Ritsuka blinks, then brings a paw up, clicking their claws together.

“I can take a couple scratches, it’s fine.” She kicks her shoes off, then cracks her knuckles. “So, you’re gonna pounce or what?”

Ritsuka must think themself clever, jumping without any sign of approval to take her by surprise. Unfortunately, the attempt is clumsy at best, and Artoria easily sidestep them.

“Try again!” Mh. She said wrestling, but with the way they are now, it would be way too easy to pin them down. Change of plan. She jumps off the bed and pulls her tongue out at them. “Catch me if you can!”

Her room isn’t that big, but it’s enough to play around a bit. She jumps, runs, ducks as Ritsuka chases her in circles. Their paws swipe at her, their teeth snap at her. Always she stays just out of their reach, taunting them, baiting them, to get faster, more agile, more clever-

They get her, eventually- she got cocky, and they got a better hand on their body. They tackle her headfirst, throwing her on the bed, and before she can get back up they jump over her, their large paws pinning her arms down.

Their maw parts open, in a facsimile of a smile, flashing teeth close to her face, and. And. Mh. She. You know. She.

“Haha, well! You caught me.” She laughs nervously. Normal. Noormal. “So, uh. Easier time moving around now?”

They make a low throat noise of agreement.

Artoria flexes her hands. She could get out of their grip- quite easily, in fact. Fang clan lookalike or not, Ritsuka is still a human, while she is a servant.- But feeling the weight pining her down, the muscles under the fur… “You could just do whatever you want to me like this. Couldn’t do a thing to stop you. Just a little rabbit for the big bad wolf to bully.”

Slowly, Ritsuka blink.

“… Look, either take the hint or let me go, but don’t just stare do you realize how mortifying this is to say that stuff out loud- mh!” Ritsuka can’t kiss her, as wolves have no lips, but they can thrust their tongue in her mouth, and that’s just as good.

Their entire body presses against her, such that she is trapped between the softness of the mattress and the softness of their fur. She’s probably going to overheat, but it’s a worthy price to get railed into oblivion by a giant sexy werewolf.

 They part from her eventually though, and instead of going back to more fun activities, they stare down at her.

“What’s the matter?”

Their right paw let go of her wrist, and they click their claws together once more.

“This again? Ritsuka, half of the time our foreplay consists of fistfighting. I don’t care if you scratch me. I’m into that.”

 They hook a single claw in the cloth of her skirt, and tug.

“… Are you serious? You’re afraid of tearing my clothes off? I’m a servant, Ritsuka! They’re not real clothes! They’ll come back when I manifest them again!”

Okay, this is getting nowhere. Fine! She needs to be upfront? She’ll be fucking upfront. With her newly-freed hand, Artoria grabs Ritsuka by the collar, and force their head close to her face.

“Listen to me. I want you to tear my clothes off with your claws. Then I want you to fuck me into the ground while I pretend to crawl away from you. I want you to bite me and I want you to scratch me and I want it to bruise. And if you dare to knot anything but my pussy, I swear I am going to actually end you. You got it?”

Ritsuka’s eyes are wide as saucer. Furry or human, they’re still the same. They nod shakily, and the sight makes Artoria smile.

“Great! Now get hunting, kitty.”

Effortlessly, she slams her palm against their chest, pushing them off her, and she rolls on her stomach, getting up on all four to run away. She gets a whole five inches away from them before strong paws grab her by the hips to forcefully drag her back in their hold.

There we go. Teeth at her neck. Claws at her legs. As good as they’ve gotten with their body within the past hour, they’re still clumsy, and their attempt to get her thighs off reduce them to shred and leave red marks over her skin. There we go. A hard cockhead rubbing against her, ready to spear her open like a wild animal.

Ah, her pet learns so fast. They well-deserve this reward.

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