Posted on 2020-06-22 08:52:36
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Here is a long story from the source, including voluntary shapeshifting from human to the wolf-man in the picture. This picture/story also has a prequel image and story on FurAffinity.
Two worgen, a rogue and a warrior, stood talking to each other in an unpopulated neck of Elwynn Forest. The darker-furred warrior was wearing only some narrow, strapped-on leather garb rather than their usual platemail. He was holding a red leather leash and collar that seemed nicely in keeping with this outfit. As for the gray-furred rogue, he wore his usual leather battle gear, which fit snugly yet with good coverage against his average-to-muscular frame. He was staring at his friend with incredulity.

“No, I am not putting on the collar,” said the rogue, whose name was Frendel.

“C’mon, it’ll be fun!” insisted Dand, his warrior friend. “It’ll get your mind right off those worries of yours.”

The rogue remained hesitant, to say the least. Granted, Dand the warrior had changed for the better lately -- his moods and his sense of humor had been taking a turn for the fun and the friendly, and Frendel really liked that -- but leash humor was pushing the limits of what Frendel considered a good joke.

“You know I’d never…” the rogue muttered.

“Why not?” insisted Dand. “No one will see. I know how it is… just needing to let yourself be a beast for a while. I know, okay? Just take a run through the hills with me, and really let yourself have fun with it. I’ll hold you on the leash and try to keep up. Worgen to fellow worgen.”

Frendel sighed. Perhaps it would make a suitable distraction from all of the guild drama he had been going through lately. If he let himself run around in full ‘wolf mode’ for a while, maybe he wouldn’t want to knock so many of his other friends’ blocks off when he went back to Stormwind to speak with them again.

“Fine…” said Frendel, “but only because I’m gonna enjoy making you sweat. I’m gonna go fast, and you’ll be struggling to keep up with me.”

Dand seemed even happier now. “Oh, don’t worry about that. I could use the exercise! It’s not like I have anything else going on.”

* * *

Frendel gruffed at first about the snugness of the collar along his neck, but he soon relaxed his neck and settled down into his running stance on all fours. The warrior gave the leash a playful flick, and the rogue glared at him for his disdainful tease. Frendel didn’t have long to deliver his judgmental look, however, as Dand ignored him and started off running toward the large hill they planned to climb and romp around.

Frendel growled and darted forward to catch up. He felt the leash bobbing against his back; after a short time running he heard his companion laugh and cutely ask him to slow down, as if that request would be honored.

The rogue clenched his teeth and ran even faster, forcing the warrior into a sprint. He felt alive and powerful, the wind in his fur, freedom under his four paws… his friend behind him still doing his best not to make warriors look like clunky men with no agility whatsoever.

It felt so good, the forest tweeting and whistling its distractions as he darted around -- tempting his nose to be diverted with each flower or animal hole he passed. It was common for Frendel to indulge such lupine instincts as he ran around… and today it felt even easier. How in the world was he feeling so comfortable with Dand in particular today? The guy had certainly been nicer lately, but…

Frendel’s nostrils flared as a particularly interesting plant scent caught his nose. He slowed and walked casually over to examine it. Hmm, an herb. An old but rare herb. He wasn’t an herbalist, but he still needed to sniff it. It smelled so strange and new, and his nose needed to make more of a memory of it. Sniff sniff.

The collar felt cool and nice around his neck now, as he dug his nose right in at the base of the plant and sniffed further, taking in the subtleties of the ground and the grass beneath the curious flowering thing. He needed to do this more often… he needed to run with Dand more often. The idea began to permeate what was left of his humanlike mind, while his animal self became more and more engrossed in the sensations all around him.

“Hrrrr…” he growled, and then nipped playfully at the plant, as if to see if it would play back with him. Why did that seem so… funny?

“Frendel,” said Dand, “Don’t be a bad dog.”

“The hell’re you talkin’ about,” grumbled the low-gaited worgen. “I’m not… I’m no dog, so shut up. Only agreed to this cause you’re a good guy.” Then he sniffed the plant more, pawed at the dirt, and turned away in disinterest. “More walks?” he asked, tilting his head.

“Yes, more walks,” said Dand.

The rogue shook his head. “No, no… I mean, are you ready for me to run way ahead of you again?”

“No, because I’m going to control you while we’re walking. You need obedience training.”

Frendel’s head tilted the other way this time. “I don’t get it. I’m a good…” His eyes widened and the pupils dilated. “Dand, you gotta help me, something bad’s happening.”

“Oh, and what’s that?”

“The urges are turning stupid. I just wanna…” He started to pant.

“That’s okay. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you all along. It’s only natural for every worgen, after a certain point in his life to just accept that he wants to be a…”

Frendel panted faster. His thoughts were confused and didn’t seem right. It was like he was swimming in a pool of ideas, but there were too many and he was starting to drown. When he tried to dogpaddle his way up through thoughts of collars, belly rubs, and long days sniffing through forested trails, he could never get all the way through them and just kept seeing more and more doglike thoughts. He could’ve sworn though that he wasn’t always a dog, that he had always been a dog before. No, no--not a dog! A dog-dog. A dog’s dog. Dog dog dog dog dog…

The rogue’s eyes lidded halfway as he began sleepily flaring his nostrils again. “Can we walk… that way, D…”

His mind hazed. He couldn’t remember his friend’s name. Not quite, anyway. He tugged in vain at the leash, some small part of him having at last pieced together what had happened, but his twisting thoughts and tempted will were fast slipping away from him. “Dog, dog,” he mumbled.

“My name is Master,” said Dand. “Remember that. Anyone who holds your leash is Master, okay?”

Frendel stared, the words landing in his mind but not quite sinking in. Dand gave his butt a nudge with one foot, causing him to yipe and scoot forward.

“Yes, Master…” said Frendel, softly. “Am I a… good dog?”

Good dog, good dog, good dog. It echoed in his mind; filled him with anxiety. The necessity to show his worth and his value, a thing always on the mind of so many adventurers like himself -- that urge was now mutating into the urge to serve his owner… to have worth because of what he could provide to his owner.

The good dog nuzzled up at his friend’s hand and began to lick. Dand kept walking him for over an hour, encouraging and rewarding each doggy trait, until at last it was time to head home for the second phase of the day’s plans.

* * *

Ockmis the draenei mage happily took the leash off of Dand’s hands as the furred duo came wandering into his home. “Oh, such a fine specimen!” said Ockmis, looking with affection as Frendel approached to sniff at him, and then itched at his own back with a hind foot. Then, seeing how Dand had also dropped to all fours and entered a low, meekly begging posture, Ockmis added, “Yes, good dog Dandy! You can be my pet for the rest of the night now and let all of your pent-up stress find relief. Come here, sweet dog and lick daddy’s face…”

The mage knelt near them, and both ended up licking him with wild affection, Frendel followed the lead of “Dandy,” very much afraid of being outshined or not doing what was normally expected in order to get attention from his owner. The draenei smelled like fine perfumes, which made the collared worgen’s nose feel funny, but he licked the blue face all the same. It tasted of perfumes too, which made Frendel them lick at his own fur to help clear the flavor.

“Yo, Ockmis, tell me that was my dog coming home?” said a loudmouthed, brown-haired human from nearby.

The man was a monk, a brewmaster, but he was not one of the kinder examples of his craft. He learned from the pandaren masters, sure, but that didn’t change how he felt about “other” matters when he wasn’t on the Peak for months at a time in mediation. He liked to get his bad boy behaviors out whenever and wherever he could; all those brews tended to work up other kinds of appetites over time!

“Ach, you are just right!” said Ockmis. “Here, why don’t you take the leash straightaway. This is my newest worgen mindslave, just as you ordered!”

“Pff, what’s his name?” wondered the monk as he took the leash and looked the “dog” over. “Worgen, what’s your name?”

“M-master,” Frendel murmured, barely forming the word through the growls and rumbles his voice was producing on instinct.

“No, I am ‘Master.’ You are?”

“Frendel… Frendel was his name,” said Ockmis after reviewing a note sheet he had made a little earlier when Dand explained who the next mark for hypnosis would be. “But! It is no longer. Tell him that from now on his name shall be Frenny!”

“Yeah, you heard the old goat,” said the human. “Frenny, will be you, big guy… and I’ll be Master. Master Mordash the monk, but you can just call me Master. I like the sound of the word.”

“Mah… mah… Ster,” Frenny panted. “Frenny.” He shook with delight at the thought of Master giving him a name and such undivided attention along with it.

“He is yours,” said Ockmis. “Go give him a try. You prefer ‘try’ before ‘pay’ here, yes?”

“If he’s as good as that tongue oughtta be,” said the human, “you’ll be paid in full before the night’s out.”

* * *

Frenny followed happily up some stairs to the mage’s guest bedroom. The tugs of the leash at his collar led the way, and his nose sniffed everything.

“On the bed,” directed the human with a snap of his fingers.

Frenny knew of ‘bed’! He jumped on the bed and sniffed all around it, and then plopped down on his chest, arms, and belly to see what Master wanted him to do next.

“Now I’ll just get a bit of this clothing off ya… Unstrap those armbands, undo these cumbersome leggings… ah, hell, let’s just take it all off. And now me too. Yeah, get a sniff, sniff all you like, big guy~”

Once both were disrobed, with the monk’s loincloth the only scrap of clothing remaining on either, the monk his limbs for a moment and then went to the dresser to grab a small flask from his belongings. From it, the monk took a drink of a uniquely specialized brew that he seldom sipped, then sat it aside once more. “Ahh, nothing like the Bloodpumper Brew to get things started… oh, you like it too, huh?”

As the monk approached the bed again, the worgen was sniffing at the aroma of the liquid, as a bit had gotten on the man’s thumb. The monk’s face and chest were flushing, and a certain other asset was fast rising to tent-post status, hoisting the loincloth aside. A paw tapped excitedly at the floor, and he licked at the man’s wrist.

The fingers rubbed Frenny’s head -- went behind his ears. Oh, he was such a good boy, a good, good…

“Dog, you’re gonna lick Master now. You’re gonna lick him clean of all his musk and then keep licking. That’s it… that’s a good dog-worgen, you just sniff all around there and start licking like the slut you are.”

The musk smelled so good because Master was talking about it. Frenny had to sniiiiff. He had to lick.

The human’s groin was so much thinner of a forest than that of Frenny’s usual partners. Exploring the wilderness of their fur was always so smooth and gradual a journey. With the human, the scent seemed all condensed into one place, engrossing his nose as he took in the battle sweat at the base of the human’s thickening shaft, and the acrid scent of his balls.

Lick, lick, lick… he began to clean and to serve. He was a good dog. Frenny was a good dog. Affirming voices echoed in his head even when he didn’t hear it from Master. Furthermore, Master showed his pleasure in grunts and moans, and in more pets. Frenny would become a good dog forever, at heart: he would never stop being a good dog, anytime the leash was on. He only had to put it on, and he would become a good dog every time. Every time, he would feel so good and perfect and right, free of sadness and other doubts. He would think simply and be his Master’s dog.

The voices of Frenny’s collar said so, and he knew they were true. He knew how true they were as they filled him with affirmation for licking the big, hot dick that was now gliding against his tongue.

The collar pulled taut against his neck as the human yanked the leash and forced his head even closer. It felt so good to be dragged as a good dog. Frenny’s eyes nearly shut as he got so hard and happy himself. He licked and wrapped his tongue harder around the human’s cock, and began to slurp at it so vigorously and with such cute, submitting whines…

The human’s erection had filled out unusually fast and hard, owing to that circulation-altering brew he had taken, but he wasn’t any closer than usual to getting off. If anything, being quite this hard was making the member a little less sensitive to the worgen’s tongue, and helping him last a little longer.

Frenny didn’t know that though, so when the human commanded him to work it harder, the worgen-dog felt put on the spot and very embarrassed. He scooted his butt hard against the bed and rumbled, his own cock bobbing so hard, even without being attended to at all. He itched up at his chest with one hind leg, the action just a product of nerves as a flash of hyperactive anxiety ran through him again. He didn’t want to disappoint Master. Must not disappoint Master! Must lick, must lick, must lick!

Frenny seldom needed to make his long tongue do so firm yet dextrous a job, but for Master he put in all of his effort. When Master shoved his cock back inside the worgen’s maw, the worgen met it with encircling, heavy strokes that coaxed the base and then drew back toward the tip. He whipped the man’s frenulum with adoring little flicks, and he bathed the whole length in such a sticky, warm saliva…

“Good dog,” the human quietly affirmed. “Good. Dog.”

Frenny trembled with excitement. His tongue lapped lower, cleaning down to lick at the man’s scrotum. The monk winced with delight as his balls tightened against the tongue, and Frenny kept right on licking against their pent-up firmness.

The head of the human’s cock reached the puffiest and fullest it had gotten, and its owner began shoving it even deeper into the maw of his other piece of fleshy property.

“Good… good…” he was scritching Frenny behind the ears now, the worgen licking and urgently sniffing, both of them excited in their respective ways until…

The human’s entire body convulsed, a single long spasm that arced from his head to his toes. He had been ready for it… and Frenny had been hungrily ready for the longer, steadier series of spasms that now began in the cock in particular. Every throb gave him a spurt of seed to eat, and every spurt against his tongue told him even more loudly and clearly that he was a good dog… no, one of the very best dogs! That this was the life for him, that he had no other life as long as this collar was on him. Just Master’s good dog, endlessly and forever until Master might deem fit to take the collar off of him and subject him to the pain of not having the collar again. Yes, that was frightful, but the cum tasted so good that it was easy to move away from the scary thought and toward the pleasurable one. He loved his collar; it was so good at teaching him everything he needed to know about being a good dog.

The monk pulled away suddenly after his seventh spurt, dribbles still issuing from the cock’s tip after he did so. Frenny lapped them up excitedly too, but the monk held back the lupine head to keep the tongue from going too wild on his now quite sensitive member. The man’s erection did not seem to be going down at all, perhaps owing to that special drink of his, and neither did he let go of the leash.

“Now show me what you’ve got… you’re gonna cum for Master. Show me how you make yourself cum, ‘Frenny.’”

Excitement filled the good dog’s mind. He looked confusedly at his hands, having a fleeting thought that they were somehow supposed to be involved in this process which Master was requesting from him. Looking at them now though, he couldn’t imagine what use they could be. Walking with his hands over his penis wouldn’t feel very good! But! But he could imagine something that would feel good.

Contorting himself excitedly forward, Frenny slammed his muzzle against the leash a few times while trying his best to get his own cock in his mouth as soon as possible. He achieved it with an ease that made the monk react with surprise: feet flat on the bed, spine bent so easily forward upon itself, and that long tongue flicking out to pleasure the long humanoid meat that was aching for some fun. The hands went back supporting Frenny just a little as he did this, and soon his mind and actions were as one: an unending blur of schluck sounds, grunts, and small twitches.

The monk had planned on jerking himself off to another climax while watching the worgen, but hadn’t banked on the other male being so thoroughly put under by the magic that he would dive headfirst into the self-suck and stick with it until it was over. Before the human could really stand to stroke his own shaft again, the worgen was starting to vocalize in shriller tones, and his shaft was bulging in that familiar way…

A growl and a rapidly flapping tongue greeted the worgen’s ejaculation, as he tried so hard to get every drop of it into his own maw in order to be as good a dog as possible He did not succeed in this, spurting a large portion of it onto his neck and cheeks as well, but he licked eagerly all around to get as much of it as he could.

“Now, again!” said the monk immediately while the worgen was still dazed from climax. The monk shoved his own cock forward and nudged it right up against the lupine nose. “Do me, and then you! Again! Until we’re both so exhausted we can’t stand!!”

The worgen was woozy, but the collar steeled his courage. He licked, and he licked. In a few moments, he had forgotten all about how sleepy and unsteady he had felt just seconds before. The collar encouraged his thoughts about how good the big human dick was, and even helped his own cock harden up again too.

“Harder,” demanded the monk, “Work it like you mean it… you want the treat again, right? Well you’re gonna have to earn it!”

Frenny whined. Even as scary as Master sometimes was, this was the best thing ever, and he never wanted it to end.

* * *

Ockmis the mage sat in his parlor until the tenth hour of the next morning, sipping at his tea and watching the breakfast get cold. So cold that it might as well be on Northrend.

Well, perhaps not that cold.

He sipped his tea and checked the time again.

His hypothesis was that if it took longer than the tenth hour for the monk to rise after his time with the worgen, the sale would surely be confirmed.

When the eleventh came as well, Ockmis simply chuckled. He rubbed one of his hooved feet against the naked worgen warrior curled up asleep at his ankles.

“Rrarf!” Dandy said playfully, before rolling and exposing his belly for Master.

“Well, Dandy boy, it looks like you will have more work outside the home again soon. I’m afraid that rogue you brought in has already sold!”

The dog-worgen headtilted at him. Dandy didn’t understand any of this right now, but he would understand it later when not under the influence of his conditioning.

“You must recruit more worgens to our cause, dear friend… mm, but first.”

The mage glanced side to side, lewd thoughts rising. Smiling, he parted his robe.

“Let us play a game… see if you can get your treat before the drunken monk upstair wakes up. Do you think you can do that, Dandy?”

The worgen was ecstatic. He was sure he could do it! Race for the treat was his favorite game.

While Ockmis wasn’t certain, he felt that his pet’s odds of winning the race were pretty strong here.

Posted on 2020-06-23 01:11:36
Score: 0 (vote Up)

Wolf Job