The age-old twin-carriage locomotive shuddered as it entered the station. A polite voice announced over the tannoy that we’d arrived in Inarizawa. I flung my light backpack over my shoulder, joining an older woman at the carriage’s exit as we waited for the train to stop. I could feel my shirt lightly clinging to my back in the baking heat of the summer’s rays. Wiping some sweat from my brow, I took a swig of water from my canister. Accustomising to this climate wasn’t easy, but I regularly reminded myself to stay hydrated when I went out on day trips like this.
The air outside the train was a refreshing respite from the hot railcar. I stood beneath a weathered wooden shelter, the timetable yellowed behind the dust-ridden plastic holding it in place. A station attendant blew on their whistle as the train rumbled into life and rounded a bend, disappearing from view. There was no hum of traffic outside the station. Only the rhythmic chorus of cicadas hidden within the dense forest. It was exactly the sort of place I had spent months searching for.
During my travels across Japan, I had wandered through famous shrines crowded with tourists carrying selfie sticks and guidebooks. I’d climbed stone slab staircases, the same polished stone that millions of other footsteps had traversed. A plethora of photographs on my phone of the historical pagodas that appeared on all the tacky postcards in the gift shops in Kyoto and Osaka. Beautiful as they were, they all shared something that disappointed me.
I selfishly yearned for something more intimate. I was a bit of a self-confessed loner and preferred secluded spots during my travels over the tourist-heavy attractions. I wanted to break away from some of the cringy, performative elements of my travels. So, after a short stay in Sendai, I decided to tell my three travel companions that I yearned for some me-time and would take a day trip outside the city by myself. They took some convincing, as stubborn as they can be, but we agreed to meet at the hotel later that evening and go out to dinner together.
Inarizawa lay a little over an hour from the city, nestled somewhere among the forested mountains. I didn’t find it in any tourist guidebook. Instead, its name had come from a friend who had spent the last few years living in Japan. We met over dinner back in Tokyo with my travel buddies, and after hearing me complain about the overcrowded temples we’d visited that day, he advised;
“I did some trips up north a couple of years back, and there’s a town I really liked called Inarizawa. The locals were surprisingly friendly, and I took a long walk around this temple which was pretty secluded. I think that’s probably more your thing, so it’s worth checking out since you’ll be in the area next week.”
That alone was enough to convince me.
The evening before my train journey, curiosity got the better of me. I spent hours combing through some old travel blogs and internet forums, translating some of the Japanese posts one painstaking sentence at a time. Most described the village as little more than a quiet mountain town with friendly locals, hot springs, and an exceptionally beautiful temple hidden in the cedar forests beyond its edge. There were a few photographs on Google, but they seemed strangely inconsistent. None of them gave me much impression of what the temple actually looked like. This only made me want to visit more. Curiosity killed the cat and all that.
Buried deep within one discussion thread, I found a comment that hadn’t been replied to in almost twelve years. My Japanese was clumsy at best, but after reading it several times, I was fairly certain I had translated it correctly.
“If someone offers you to meet Mizukami… politely refuse.”
How odd, I thought. There was no explanation and equally no context as to who, or what, Mizukami was supposed to be. Just a singular and frankly unsettling warning. I clicked on the author’s profile, hoping they had left some other comments elsewhere, but the account no longer existed.
For reasons I couldn’t quite explain, that one cryptic sentence lingered in my thoughts long after I shut my laptop. It wasn’t frightening in any obvious way. It was just playing on my mind. I felt I had a reason to visit, even if it was just a pleasant day out to visit this secluded place where I could be with my own thoughts.
By the time I boarded the train the following morning, I found myself thinking less about the temple and more about whoever, or whatever, Mizukami was.
Beyond the station, Inarizawa unfolded before me. A narrow concrete road, cracked by decades of humid summers and harsh winters, meandered between a row of houses. Tufts of stubborn grass had claimed the fractures in the pavement, nature slowly reclaiming what had been laid down years before. A handful of compact cars sat neatly arranged in the modest station car park.
Near the station entrance stood a large wooden information board beneath a sloping tiled roof. A beautifully illustrated map of the village had been carefully mounted behind glass, marking local landmarks and hiking trails. My eyes were immediately drawn to a symbol near the edge of the map. The temple. Nestled against the forest at the foot of the mountains, barely a short walk from the village itself.
My stomach grumbled. I had skipped breakfast that morning, eager to get a move on, so I decided to grab some food before setting out for the temple. I walked along the narrow street, arriving at what I assumed was the epicentre of the small town. A supermarket, two restaurants and a few miscellaneous shops dotted along the road, otherwise filled with people’s homes.
Aware of the time to make the train back, I stopped into the supermarket to pick up some food on the go. I was aware that visiting remote places like this would be the true test of my, frankly, mediocre Japanese. Visiting larger cities was like playing a game with cheats enabled. Here, in the remote countryside and alone, was a different story.
“Irasshaimase!” the old woman behind the counter greeted me, her gaze fixed in my direction.
I found a fridge stocked with some tasty-looking sandwiches. As I paid at the register, the friendly woman struck up a conversation in English, which was a pleasant surprise.
“Are you a tourist?”
“Yeah,” I replied shyly, “I’m just visiting for the day. I heard this town is beautiful so I wanted to see it for myself.”
She smiled in response, scanning the items.
“I heard there’s a temple in the mountains so I was going to visit that next.”
Her face fell into a grimace. After an awkward pause where I thought I maybe said something wrong, she just shook her head and responded;
“You should enjoy the village instead.”
Her expression softened into a smile, and before I could probe further, she was attending to another customer.
I wandered back through the village with my bag slung over one shoulder, unsure what to take from the albeit brief conversation I’d just had. I decided to stick to my guns and set out to explore the old temple since I’d come all this way.
The sidewalk ended as the road out of town became a little trickier on foot. But I found a narrow pathway which was shaded by the forest trees. I took another gulp of water from my canister, noticing now that it was almost empty. I internally scolded myself for not refilling it at the supermarket. Staying out of the blazing sun had at least given me a respite from its soaring rays for now as I enjoyed the shade of the tall trees.
The road completely disappeared now as I began to trek up some slopes and deeper into the forest. I observed that the further I ventured along the trail, the less maintained the path became. Moss-covered stone slabs were all that remained, dotted along a dirt track. The sounds of all human life had completely ceased, just the rustling of the trees and the occasional bird call to keep me company. I trudged along, feeling my sweat pouring now from the heavy exertion in the humid conditions. Recalling the map, I’d expected the temple to appear any moment, but I started to doubt my own navigational skills as my journey failed to bear any fruit.
After traversing a particularly challenging hill, I spotted an unknown shape a few meters ahead. I caught my breath before investigating, polishing off the remaining water I had in my canister. It was a weathered stone fox statue tucked between some overgrown ferns. Perched upon a low stone plinth, the fox statue wore a cloak of moss that crowned its head and spilled down its back. Its sightless eyes stared steadfastly along the path ahead and between its jaws it held a scroll carved from the same stone, marking its connection to Inari Ōkami.
I stopped to snap a few photos of the statue. I was hoping to send one back to my friends in Sendai but realised that I’d lost all coverage since entering the forest.
CRACK.
I shot around as the noticeable sound of a branch breaking gave me a fright. I searched for the source of the sound, catching a glimpse of white in amongst the dense forest. At first I thought it was another statue hidden among the trees. Then the shape moved and vanished. For a few seconds I stared in silence, assessing if there was sense to be made from what I saw.
Sounds to my left coming from the path ahead had my heart beating in my chest. I pre-emptively reassured myself that the sound coming towards me was only footsteps, and I cursed my anxious mind for situations like this. Lo and behold, a figure came into view hiking down the path I was about to follow.
As they neared, their face lit up into a warm smile as if they hadn’t encountered another human in months.
“Hey there, do you speak English?” they asked simply, their accent recognisable as having a Canadian twang to it.
“Yeah, nice to meet you. Did you just come from the temple?”
They just stared at me a bit puzzled before that smile appeared again.
“Sure am. It’s really beautiful. Didn’t expect it to be so far from the town though.”
“Same here. I was sure I was lost heading into the forest.”
I laughed to dull some of the anxiety still rattling away in my belly.
He wore a simple pair of shorts and a t-shirt. There was no sign of a backpack or any other belongings, which I found odd for a hike like this. There were visible stains from the earth on his clothes, and he looked to be about my age. His blonde hair was tied messily behind his head, and his eyes had an unsettling, drained look despite his happy disposition. He examined me for several seconds.
“That one’s facing the wrong direction,” he indicated to the fox statue.
“Oh?” I queried, unsure what he was referring to.
“They’re supposed to face away from the temple, apparently.”
“How do you know that?”
“Someone told me. Could just be kids playing a prank or something… they’re not exactly hard to lift.”
I doubted his words as the statue looked like it weighed a tonne.
“Are you heading back to town?” I questioned, trying to strike up some friendly conversation.
“I was, but I realised I left something at the temple, so I need to head back. Feel free to join me if you like. It gets a bit hairy further up.”
I was torn between venturing on alone and being accompanied by someone who actually knew the way ahead. I argued that once I’d arrived at the temple I could always make an excuse to get that desperately craved alone time.
“Sure, I’d appreciate it.”
He turned without waiting to see whether I followed.
The deeper we walked, the quieter the forest became. I noticed that the insects that had plagued me up until this point seemingly vanished. I listened for the bird calls I could hear earlier, but just the crunching of the forest floor beneath our feet remained.
“So where are you from?” the Canadian asked, his gaze facing forward so I couldn’t tell his expression.
“I was born in London but live in Berlin for the last two years. You?”
“Ontario, but I grew up in Quebec.”
“How long have you been in Japan?” I queried, continuing our friendly exchange.
“Uhhh, I’m not entirely sure. It’s been a wild trip so far, so I’ve kind of lost count.”
That answer was peculiar, but I didn’t press any further.
“You?”
“Ten days but heading back in about a week. I have a group I came with but decided to ditch them for today.”
“Probably wise…”
I was unsure what to say in response before he continued.
“I think it’s better to visit places like this by yourself. It’s a personal thing.”
“Sure!” I responded in agreement.
I pondered whether I should mention anything about the vision of white that I spotted back at the fox statue. I wasn’t expecting a response that would clarify what I’d seen, but it would at least make for some small talk. I decided against it, instead asking the question;
“Do you know anything about something called Mizukami?”
He was deadly silent for a few seconds, and I wondered if he heard me.
“Nope.”
His response was pretty much what I was expecting, but his pause before delivering it made me feel slightly uneasy.
Eventually, after nearly twenty more minutes of trekking through the forest, we came to an enormous wooden gate concealed in ivy and moss. There was no sign that indicated where, in fact, we were, but I assumed it was the entrance to the temple. I didn’t expect it to be in such disrepair, which made me wonder about the condition of the temple itself. The gate’s massive cedar beams were blackened with age and etched with carvings so worn that they resembled claw marks.
“Whoa, I wasn’t expecting it to be this poorly maintained,” I said half jokingly.
“Yeah, not many of the townspeople come up this direction anymore. I guess maybe times have moved on.”
“What’s it like inside?”
“You’ll have to see for yourself…”
Beyond the gate was a set of stone steps in about the same condition as the gate. More of the stone foxes lined the pathway in perfect silence, each carved with subtly different expressions. I caught one in particular that appeared somewhat mournful. The others were just intensely watchful. The blonde Canadian pushed open the gate. The sound echoed through the forest.
“What made you decide to come and visit somewhere like this? Most tourists stick to the main cities and temples,” he questioned, his eyes now fixed on me as he held the gate open.
“Ah, a friend recommended it. I’m staying not too far away, so thought I could do it all in a day trip to Inarizawa. I wanted a break away from all the noise and chaos, which is part of my reason for coming to Japan in the first place. How about you?”
“Pretty much the same as you. Although to be honest I’m pretty desperate to get back home now.”
As we neared the top of the steps, the temple grounds unfolded like a forgotten world hidden beneath the forest’s canopy. Ancient stone paths wound between weathered lanterns. Their surfaces had softened beneath centuries of moss. A large wooden hall leaned ever so slightly with age. My companion, who had still never given his name, paused before an enormous camphor tree whose roots bulged from the earth.
“And here we are,” he said, resting a hand against the tree’s bark.
I smiled in response.
“It’s amazing,” I responded in awe, “I can imagine it looked even better in its heyday.”
The main hall stood raised upon a low stone foundation, its dark wooden beams weathered from decay. A gently curved tiled roof sagged beneath patches of emerald moss and trailing vines. Faded carvings of foxes and lotus flowers clung to the eaves, softened by age but still remarkably intricate. The broad veranda creaked under the weight of fallen leaves, and the heavy entrance doors, framed by cracked pillars, remained slightly ajar.
“You said you forgot something. What was it?” I asked.
“It’s in the forest just over there,” he replied, pointing just to the right of the temple.
“Is it lost? Do you need help looking for it?”
His eyes drifted toward the trees. I instinctively followed his gaze. The cedars stood impossibly close together, their trunks forming black columns that swallowed the daylight. Even though the afternoon sun still illuminated the temple, only fragments of pale light filtered into the woods.
“You know we’re not alone,” he remarked quietly.
The words lingered in the cold air. It sent alarm bells ringing. My breath started to race as I tried to make sense of his statement. I didn’t think to respond, querying it. I just stared silently, an involuntary chill crawling up my spine. Before I could form the words in my mouth, something moved just beyond the treeline.
A flash of white.
My eyes snapped toward it.
There…
Between two cedar trunks was the figure I’d glimpsed near the stone fox statue. It was impossibly tall. Its body was sleek and rounded, its porcelain-white surface broken by vivid crimson markings that flowed over its limbs. Jagged scarlet plates wrapped around its shoulders and wrists like ceremonial armour, while an enormous paw, far too large to belong to anything natural, hung loosely at its side. Its face resembled a fox. Sharp red eyes stared directly at me. The markings around its face made its expression infinitely more predatory.
I could only stare in complete and utter terror as the being before me seemed to measure the distance between us. Every instinct screamed at me to step backwards. The Canadian had gone completely silent, and I glanced towards him. His face had lost every trace of colour.
“I’m sorry…” he whispered, his tone filled with terror, “I couldn’t leave unless I brought you here. You asked earlier about Mizukami… you’re looking directly at him.”
The creature’s gaze never wavered as it stared at me head-on. There was zero emotion in its expression.
Among the cedars came the brittle snap of wood breaking beneath an unseen weight. The creature took a single step sideways and passed behind the impossibly narrow trunk of one of the trees. For a fraction of a second, its white shoulder vanished behind the bark. It should have emerged from the other side immediately, but it never did. The forest stood empty with no rustling of leaves to signify it was in fact still there or not. It had simply ceased to exist.
The silence that followed felt heavier than before. I willed my body to move. I knew I had to desperately escape this place, but all I could do was hunt the treeline for the vision of pure white.
“I…” My voice came out as little more than a whisper. “What was that?”
The Canadian kept his eyes fixed on the place where it had disappeared.
“I told you that’s Mizukami. The guardian of this temple or something I don’t really know. All I do know is that he doesn’t like visitors… or maybe he preys on them… I don’t fucking know.”
His tone now that of panic-ridden fear. I laughed nervously, hoping that everything up until now had been some odd ploy at humour. The Canadian let out a slow, trembling breath before taking a hesitant step toward the temple. His movements echoed the dread we both felt in our bodies. The warped wooden steps groaned beneath his shoes as he climbed onto the veranda and stopped before the open doors. He lowered his head, his lips moving too quietly for me to make out the words.
A shape slowly emerged from the shadows beyond the doorway. It remained just inside the threshold. They appeared to be communicating, but I couldn’t hear any of what was said.
Suddenly, the man’s shoulders sagged as though every ounce of strength had drained from him. He didn’t answer. He simply stood frozen before the unseen presence, unable to lift his head, while I remained rooted where I was, struggling to understand what the hell was going on.
Then he bowed, turned and walked back towards the steps and gate. His gaze fixed on the ground. He came to a stop as he passed.
“I’m sorry. I needed to escape, to go home. Mizukami had enslaved me, but we struck a deal. I think you understand what I’m talking about-”
I didn’t listen to another word. I took off running, the fear in my body propelling me forward down the stone slabs.
“Don’t try to run. It’ll only make it worse,” I heard him shouting behind me, but I refused to listen.
The gate rushed toward me as I sprinted down the steps, every instinct screaming that if I could just reach it, I’d be back on the forest trail. Halfway down the steps, the ground beneath me shuddered violently. My feet stammered to a halt. Beyond where the gate had stood, the forest no longer existed. In its place stretched an immense canyon, its sheer black cliffs disappearing into a vast depth. The familiar path had ceased to exist, with the world beyond the temple terrifyingly erased. I stumbled backwards, my heart pounding violently against my ribs. I tried to make sense of what was unfolding before my very eyes. In the distance, I spotted nothing but the black abyss. It was like I was on the edge of the earth.
I spun around, desperate to call out to the Canadian, to demand an explanation, but the words caught in my throat. The steps behind me were empty. He had vanished just like the gate and the world beyond. Slowly, I fell down to my knees, half in defeat and the other half in terror. I was petrified to look up, but shifting my gaze, I could see the being standing at the top of the staircase. Free from the shade of the forest, its porcelain-white body illuminated in the direct sunlight. If it even was the sun anymore. Crimson markings flowed across its sleek, fox-like form in graceful, unnatural patterns. Its narrow muzzle remained perfectly still, while pointed ears stood alert above unblinking scarlet eyes fixed upon me. It merely watched me from the top of the ancient steps, silently. It knew I had nowhere left to run.
The being referred to by the Canadian as a ‘guardian’ didn’t look like a living creature. It appeared to be formed from polished porcelain. Its entire body was smooth and flawlessly white, reflecting the daylight with a cold, glass-like sheen. Markings wrapped around its slender frame in symmetrical patterns, flowing over its shoulders, forearms, hips, and legs. Across its face, intricate red markings framed a pair of piercing ruby eyes, the same ones which watched me intently from the forest. I felt totally powerless in its presence. This mighty being held all the power. This was its domain.
A voice echoed, its source unknown, but I suspected the fox-guardian was speaking to me telepathically.
“You have entered sacred ground where you do not belong, typical of a disrespectful mortal. You will now pay the price of your burden and be enslaved to this temple. And by extension to me.”
“I… I didn’t mean any harm,” I stammered, forcing myself not to look away. “Please… just let me go. I’ll do anything it takes.”
“You will not leave here today. I have judged your actions and deem you to be tainted by mortal curiosity. You have committed a great sin by coming here, and your retribution will aim to atone for such an act of disrespect.”
I swallowed hard. “How long will you keep me here?”
“As long as I see fit, perhaps a few lifetimes. You may have hope that you can escape similar to the mortal before you, but I have now placed a sacred seal on these grounds, which means those from your world can no longer enter. No trade between souls of those imprisoned will be permitted. I have decided.”
The last thing I remembered was trying to speak, to voice my plea of regret and beg for mercy. A shiny paw was raised in the air, sending a whirlwind of pale blue foxfire towards me. It brushed my forehead with a gust of wind before darkness swallowed everything and I collapsed in a heap.
I felt my body drifting, sailing towards an unknown light.
When I opened my eyes again, I was lying on polished cedar flooring beneath a ceiling of intricately carved beams. Sunlight poured through fresh paper screens, filling the hall with a warm golden glow. It was somewhat ethereal. I blinked several times, confused and dazed, hoping that everything up until now had been a vivid and terrifying nightmare. My hopes were dashed when I noticed the ominous being standing over me, a look of dark amusement in its expression. I was strictly bound with invisible bonds as I struggled, writhing on the wooden floor.
The temple I had discovered earlier was clearly worn down by centuries of decay and neglect. This place was far from that. The interior gleamed with its fresh lacquer, polished to perfection. There was an array of brass ornaments hanging from the ceiling along with crimson banners. I gazed around the main hall, convinced now that this world was no longer my own. Lavish cushions lay in perfect order at one end of the hall. A table was set, filled neatly with gleaming ceramics along with some items I couldn’t quite decipher. Shelves containing what I imagined to be ancient texts next to a set of oak drawers nestled in one of the corners of the meticulous space. I felt I’d been transported back to the Edo period, and I got the sickening feeling in my stomach that this could be a strong possibility.
“I see you have awakened.”
My view shot up to the ominous presence of the being, its tail swooshing dramatically behind it, as if it was excited by my predicament.
“Wh-where am I? Please let me go,” I pleaded, distress clearly evident in my trembling voice.
“You do not have the right to speak to me. You’re nothing more than a slave and have been branded as such.”
I froze.
I realised that my clothes had vanished since I’d awoken in this strange world. In their place was a strange and tacky substance glued to my skin from my neck down to my feet. It felt like a seamless layer that felt alive as it pulsed with the rhythm of my racing heartbeat.
“No no no no… please, don’t… what is this?” I responded with angst.
I struggled again against the invisible bonds. As I did, the skintight substance tightened its grip over my entire body. I was being held so intimately in its vice-like hold.
“SILENCE”
Mizukami stepped closer, its enormous body towering over my prostrate form. The warm glow from the paper screens bounced off its considerably glossy body. Up close now, the surface of its form appeared less like porcelain and more akin to flexible rubber. Its thighs ballooned outwards, flowing into a narrow waist flaring with a crimson belt. A type of loincloth from the same material as its body protruded from the being’s navel with an unknown symbol marking its smooth surface. Around its neck, a wide and ballooning ruff and atop of this, its large head with those pointed ears that I imagined could hear far and wide.
“You have been marked with your role within this sanctuary. The material coating your body is an extension of my own being. The attire serves as a visible reminder of your obligation and ensures you are prepared for the duties you now bear. I control it and, by extension, you. You will perform any task that I permit. Some will be in servitude to these grounds. Others will be for my benefit.”
The strange material yielded beneath my weakened body with an almost fluid elasticity, rippling softly before smoothing itself into a flawless, gleaming surface once more, as though it had briefly melted around me before becoming perfectly still. From the neck down, I was clad in brilliant white, the seamless garment hugging every contour. Delicate crimson markings, echoing the sacred patterns adorning the shrine, traced elegant lines across its surface. It felt like some kind of ceremonial seal, a visible sign that I had been claimed by Mizukami, marking my place as his bound servant.
“My power goes far beyond controlling your body. I possess the ability to delve far into the depths of your mind. If I crave it, I can completely remove your sense of self and rewrite your personality to suit me. Luckily for you, I take far greater pleasure in having it remain. I will slowly and painfully break your mind beyond recognition. You will soon worship me as your true Master and fully accept your role as my personal slave. This is your fate which I have decided for you.”
Mizukami’s expression remained composed, not triumphant, but carrying a calm certainty. I trembled at his every word, keeping my mouth shut without any sign of resistance. I wondered if this was his power over me already taking hold.
Suddenly my bonds had vanished into thin air, and I found myself rising to my feet roughly two feet shorter than this imposing figure. His giant paw raised slowly and was held inches from my own face. I could only stare in terror at the enormous blob of white with my jaw slack in disbelief.
“Your marking is almost complete, but there is one final piece that is to be converted.”
A white gloopy substance launched from the immense paw, colliding with my face and head. I screamed with shock and alarm as everything went dark and I struggled to breathe in the thick, all-encompassing gunk. It clung to me the second it came into contact with my flesh. Alive, it pulsed and wriggled to cover my entire head. I instinctively tried to move my arms to pry the fast-acting substance away, but my body was no longer mine to control.
My vision gradually returned, and with it my ability to breathe, although it felt as though I was breathing through the new coating itself instead of my nose and mouth. I could feel an intense pressure squeezing my head like a vice as the material shaped itself into something unrecognisable as a human.
When the process was complete, I could tell that my human body, vacuum-sealed beneath the substance, was vanishing. Bones, flesh, muscle and any trace of my anatomy was replaced with solid rubber. I had transformed into an extension of this god-like being, like a disconnected limb he could control at any moment. Only my thoughts, feelings, and fear remained. I was trapped in a body which was no longer my own.
“Welcome to your new role, my slave. You have been marked fully, and therefore a bond has been formed between us. A sign of your devotion and ownership has been created around your neck. This will be your constant reminder of who you will now serve for the remainder of your days.”
An unknown but frankly pleasant feeling emanated from my neck. A tingling sensation similar to pins and needles prickled deep within my newly formed body. A crimson band ballooned outwards, holding my gaze impossibly tight as I could feel the pressure growing just below my chin. I felt my entire form pulsate as my previous human shape was altered to match that of a fox. A billowing tail grew from below my spine, my thighs puffy and wide. My hands, which had formed fists beneath the tight material, surged into giant paws. Similarly, my feet were now non-existent, instead growing in size to match my front paws. I couldn’t see the effects taking place, but I knew that I had transformed into a fox-like creature formed of solid rubber. My head was no doubt growing the same pointed white ears as my Master and Owner.
“Punishments will be applied at the first hint of disobedience within your still mortal mind. Rewards will be given to ensure you are moulded into the devoted slave that I choose for you to become. You can decide to fight it, but I can assure you that sooner or later you will break.”
I felt a deep and considerably pleasant feeling emanating from the space between my legs. Any previous organ which had existed had merged into a rubber bulge of nothing beneath the rubberised loincloth I now wore around my waist. Still, without the existence of a human male cock I could feel the pleasure that I was receiving, which filled me with unavoidable lust.
“The source of control in mortals. The foundation on which we will build your affection and devotion to me. You will begin to crave me. To worship me. This is how I will break your very weak mind.”
His words, now booming in my empty head, had my body shaking with their intensity. I could do nothing but stare into those calm eyes, feeling as though he was caressing me without touching me directly.
“BOW”
The command was instantly actioned, not that I had any choice in the matter. The sound of the squeaking rubber filled the great hall as I bowed in respect of my new Master.
“KNEES”
I fell to my rubberised knees. The hard floor felt through my new highly sensitive skin.
“WORSHIP”
I found the tip of my rubberised muzzle was brought firmly between the being’s legs, aimed at the symbol of his loincloth. My nose pressed firmly against the bulge beneath, and the intense feeling at my groin amplified massively. I felt such immense happiness and lust being this close to my Master. His power over me was an unstoppable force which I had no intention of fighting.
“This is your true purpose. A craving to be so close to your Master. My pleasure will be your sole focus for the remainder of your life as my slave. You will require constant reminders of your status far from my equal, and so my power over you will take many different forms. At times, you will be punished, bound, tortured and driven to the heights of pleasure only to be denied time and time again. I will take you from behind, my knot deep inside you as you exclaim your devotion to your Master.”
The warm pleasure doubled in its vehemence, causing me to moan in deep-rooted pleasure. I craved every word telepathically projected into my weakening mind. My focus beamed directly at the bulge I was emphatically nuzzling, desperate to please my Master.
We shared this deeply erotic scene for quite some time before I found a growing impatience in the towering being before me. I could feel my mouth forming into a hollow opening, sensing that I was to be presented with a gift from my Master. The loincloth vanished, and in its place a sizeable knot was forming, its surface smooth and crimson, similar to the fox-god’s markings.
“Prepare to accept your Master.”
I knelt back on my knees and propped my head into the perfect position for him to enter me slowly. The giant tip tracing around the hole of my mouth. I waited with intense anticipation wracked by the never-ending feeling of lust. It entered in one slick motion. I was in complete and utter ecstasy. My master’s voice was drumming at the very edges of my mind. I was his slave, and I was fulfilling my new purpose in life.
Images are from @HSJY_Fursuit and were a fantastic inspiration for this piece.
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