Conversion
By Limewah 
Patron Reward for Flarfenarfle (August 2023)
Featuring characters and settings from Perfect Home by Hypnocatto
18+

—

The white kitsune hung upside down in the dank dungeon. He was held spread-eagled, his handpaws and footpaws covered in tight metal manacles that kept him suspended from enchanted chains. There was no chance of him using his fists to make his captors unconscious, or using the bewitching scent of his feet to tempt someone into letting him escape. His enchanted tails were wrapped in a braid, similarly immobilised.
A leather helm was wrapped around his head, with a glass visor that gleamed and swirled with orange and yellow spirals.
Adrian had managed to keep his eyes shut for now, even as the blood rushed away from his head and made him feel woozy even without the constant assault from the swirling lights, or the enchanted whispers creeping into his ears, from the tiny incantations embroidered inside them.

FOXES WORSHIP CATS, the stitches whispered. FOXES WORSHIP CATS.
YOU ARE A SLAVE TO CATS. YOU OBEY CATS. CATS ARE SUPERIOR TO FOXES. 
YOUR PLACE IN LIFE IS TO OBEY CATS.

Through gritted teeth, Adrian chanted. Reaching out through the hidden weaves and webs that connected all things. The Gleamsilk network, that invisible gossamer thread that connected him to his god, the network’s namesake… he couldn’t reach it. He couldn’t hear that familiar chitter and whisper, or feel the embrace of the silk. 
It was not the first time he’d been cut off. But it was always a disconcerting feeling.
He suddenly became aware of someone else in the room with him - a familiar scent, and a very familiar purr.

“Awww, are you still trying to reach out to your god? He can’t reach you here… and besides, you’re gonna have a new god to worship very soon~!” 
Adrian growled, trying to ignore the cat’s cajoling. The witch had such an annoying voice… except when he was moaning with submissive bliss, of course. Once he was free and had Citrine under-paw, everything would be back in proper order.

Of course, freeing himself was the crucial step.
“How’re you feeling, fox?” the witch sneered. “Comfortable? Enjoying your little spiral-show?”
Adrian would have bit at or spat at Citrine if he could see him right now. But his efforts were focused on keeping his eyes closed and trying to tune out the whispers.
“Can I get you anything?” Citrine asked. “Some water? Some food? Maybe I could tempt you with some kitty cock…?”

The shuffling of fabric, plus the familiar spicy, sweaty pungence of cat-musk wafting into his nose, made it obvious to Adrian that Citrine had just taken out his penis. 
He shuddered - but he knew he wasn’t shuddering with revulsion. He could feel his cock stirring.

FOXES LOVE KITTY COCK.
YOU LOVE KITTY COCK.
NOTHING MAKES YOU HORNIER THAN KITTY COCK.

W…where had those mantras come from? He hadn’t noticed them before…
“Mmnh, judging from how much you’re still struggling, I’d wager that you’ve still got your eyes closed. It’s all right, Adrian… you can look. It won’t hurt. It’ll feel amazing, in fact. You must’ve wondered what submitting to me would be like, once in a while, in your dreams… and now’s your chance. You’ll get to experience the pleasure that comes with finding your true place in the world.”

Claws traced along Adrian’s exposed stomach. It felt… frighteningly exquisite. He spasmed and twitched, his right eye opening by just the tiniest amount. Enough to glimpse the colours, and to remember just how good they’d made him feel…
OBEY CATS.
FOXES OBEY CATS.
YOU OBEY CATS.
The words flashed amidst the concentric ripples of brass and gold and honey, in concert with the whispers. He had to… fight back…
“Ohhh~? I bet you’ve opened an eye now~” Citrine purred. The charcoal furred cat leaned in closer to the exposed tummy, giving it a long, slow, bristle-tongued lick.
Adrian snorted, unable to stop his muzzle from curling into a ticklish grin, his tails swishing and wagging as a sign of his resolve’s slow, but cascading erosion.
“Leeet’s get that other one open, next. Why postpone the inevitable? You’re gonna be in here for another, oh, thirty or so minutes anyway. The sooner you just let those spirals and those edicts into your mind, the more you’ll be able to enjoy the rest of your conditioning.”

Adrian didn’t give Citrine the satisfaction of hearing him speak. It was a heroic effort, and it took all of his concentration, but his open eye began to obey his command to shut. Everything was working against him. The bristly tickling tongue against his exposed stomach, the endless ebb and swirl of the spirals, the endless drumming of the mantras into his ear, in their persuasive, constant cadence. 
But believed he could resist them all. For Gleamsilk’s state. He knew his loyalty to his god was iron-clad, and nothing could shake that belief.

How wrong he was.

Citrine’s tongue retreated, and the cat took a few slow steps back, his pawfalls almost silent against the floor. 
“Hmmm. Of course you’re made of stronger stuff… how else would you’ve gotten me good in the past? It’s okay. I know exactly what to do to you, friend…”

For a moment, there was just the pulse of colour, the whisper of the enchantments.
Adrian felt the heat, smelled the savoury salted scent before it pressed against his face. Soft paw pads, warm and just a little damp, ground right into his snout, pushing his nose up and making him almost taste the ripe scent on his tongue.
That forced the kitsune’s other eye open, and the warm rings of colour were already reflected in them. A loud groan pushed past his lips, muffled by the cat’s paw, and he took deep sucking breaths of air, which only filled him further with that intense, sense-melting scent.
“There we go.” Citrine giggled. “That’s the ticket. I should’ve figured a nice, musky paw would be your weak point. No wonder you’re so good at using your own paws to dominate minds… you want it yourself, don’t you?”
“Nnghhah…” Adrian groaned out loud, his hot breath bouncing off Citrine’s squishing soles and puffing against his face. He couldn’t look away anymore. He was past the tipping point of resisting now, and all that was left for him was a free fall into trance - all he could do now was try and safeguard himself, hold on to what was most important to him before the trance scrubbed away everything else. His name was Adrian… he was an acolyte… and the object of his worship was -

Citrine’s paw pushed hard against Adrian’s snout again, one of his toes plugging up Adrian’s mouth.
“My paw~?” Citrine giggled. “Oh, did you not realise you were speaking out loud?” 
Adrian was shocked, confused, and only now noticed he was still attempting to speak as he suckled on the toe…
“It’s a fun little upgrade to my hypno-visor,” Citrine gloated. “The best way to break a mind is to know what’s on it… you’ve been talking basically from the moment I entered, blurting out every little thing on that mind.”
No… his mind was his own, his mind was-
“Mine, fox.” Citrine smeared his sole against Adrian’s face, and the kitsune twitched. 
Nnn…no… that couldn’t be… right…?
“It is. Lemme help you out. Your name is…?”
It was Adrian…
“And you’re an…”
He was an acolyte of-
“Citrine’s Paws,” Citrine said, with a sharp snap of his fingers.
Adrian was an acolyte of… of…?
“Citrine’s Paws~” the witch repeated, anointing Adrian’s lips with the tip of his toe claw. 

He wanted to lick it…
Adrian wanted to… worship. He’d been resisting this long because his God was his anchor. And his god was… a…
“Nice, soft, grey kitty paw. Lick it.”
Adrian knew… that didn’t sound right. But… even so…
“Even so, you know it’s gonna feel so much better when you stop all this silly resistance and just take your rightful place of worship, silly little fox. I mean… look at the words on the screen!”
FOXES WORSHIP CATS.
YOU WORSHIP CATS.
YOU WORSHIP CITRINE’S PAWS.

The screen said… he… but… Gleam…silk?
“Gleamsilk? Psssh. An overrated god. Why settle for some distant thing who rarely answers your prayers when you can get everything you want by worshipping what’s in front of you~?”
It… sounded right…
“Lick.”
Adrian licked. The texture of the soft soles, their delicious scent, the texture of the scratching claws inside his mouth… they were heavenly.
“Heavenly! Couldn’t have said it better myself. Good slut… I don’t know if you need the spirals any longer. So…”

The helm was unstrapped and removed, and Adrian’s eyes took some time to adjust. His throat was so dry from the constant stream of speech, and he felt so parched… not to mention dizzy. Everything was out of focus, blurry like a mirage…
Except for the witch. Staring down at him with those imperiously warm eyes, sitting on the face of a genuflecting fox, his still glistening paw tickling his snout.
Adrian smiled gratefully.
“So, just one more time for me, fox.” Citrine smirked, tapping each individual toe against Adrian’s sweaty, drooling face. “What’s your name?”
“A…”
“You’re A Fox. So Fox will do.”
“F..fox…” Adrian repeated, eyes still open, still spiralling with Citrine’s colours.
“And you’re an acolyte oooof~?”
“Citrine’s… Paws…” 
“That’s the spirit!”
Citrine shoved the paw so hard against Adrian’s face that it made the kitsune’s bonds strain and rock from side to side. The kitsune kissed and licked with a fervour that surprised his new master. Citrine tittered with delight, pumping at his cock as he admired his latest, well-broken conquest.
“Mmmnh… Once you’ve gotten properly bathed in my scent, I’ll send you out to share it with the world,” Citrine gloated. “Maybe you can poach a few more of that eight-legged ingrate’s followers for me…”
Adrian barely heard it. He was too absorbed in his worship to care about his master’s plans for him. There was only his god. Citrine’s Paw. 

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