Brought to Heel Ch. 04

Conall found himself reluctant to return to the security videos. He'd finished watching what happened in the break room, and now if he was honest with himself he had to admit that he was actively avoiding going back to the recordings and was finding excuses to put it off until another time.

Mostly because of the unwanted arousal that they'd stoked in the pit of his stomach. Well - not the two who had turned into freaky eldritch creatures - but the rest, yes. Even watching the one who joined the fae without doing anything sexual, just by being handed a lyre by one of the existing fae, had made a strange prickly heat slide down his spine.

He wasn't watching the videos for prurient reasons, but with how it made him feel it was hard not to be guilty about it anyway. So he was reluctant to give his evenings over to that, even if it was necessary to make sure he would be able to keep his site safe.

He came to a compromise with himself - he would take a break for a solid week, and then pick it back up at the weekend. The week ended up going much faster than he hoped, although the break did make it easier to focus on work without his brain turning over the imagery he had seen in his mind over and over.

Now he was back at his laptop again on Saturday night, chewing at the inside of his cheek as he decided which video to watch. Perhaps following the group who left the break room?

Which split into two almost immediately after they got outside. Great.

The hallway itself was barely recognisable at that point, the entities having warped it in their own image. Different styles of architecture seemed to be fighting for dominance in some areas, as the factions staked their claims on parts of the building. By now, weeks later, Conall could hardly guess at how Epsilon-1 looked on the inside.

He listened to two of the group who seemed to be friends debate on which hallway to go down. When one started to wander off into a darkened hallway, talking about a voice calling them, he decided not to bother following those two any longer. From the floorplan, he knew that hallway led to the server room, which was filled with eldritch gunk. No thanks.

Surprisingly, the rest of that little group had neither difficulty with passing by the roosting flock of harpies who had taken up residence in the large atrium full of plants, nor with the sirens lazing in the former fountain which had become a spreading pond. Conall thought of Jason and the Argonauts as he looked upon the scene, wondering how the group passed through unaccosted. The question of natural affinity towards the different factions came to mind - it was a topic hotly debated amongst the researchers in Orpheus, but to him it seemed increasingly likely that the entities or powers responsible for the metahuman condition had a clear preference for some people over others. Or that some people were more drawn to particular ones than others. Not that he could detect any clear logic to it, or that such a preference was useful for securing the site, but it was a thing he had been wondering about whilst watching these videos. Why some humans were outright ignored and others beckoned and teased and tempted.

A few strayed along the way, like the two who walked down the dark hallway. But the rest of the group got much further than he expected, arriving in the main reception area with the doors to the outside world in sight - and with them freedom - before encountering one last barrier, one final temptation.

Arranged across from each other, flanking the double doors, were two diametrically-opposed reception desks. A receptionist sat at each one, and a matching security guard stood in front of the door at each side. On one side, a primly dressed angelic receptionist exuding utmost professionalism, and a security guard clad in gleaming armour with wings outstretched. On the other side, a sultry demon in a tacky Halloween costume of a sexy secretary with flesh barely held in by a gaping shirt, and a security guard who looked more like a nightclub bouncer, if bouncers had boar tusks and pants so tight you could see the outline of their genitalia.

Conall couldn't hold back a smile at the odd scene. A lot of effort had gone into whatever this was. The receptionists were glaring daggers at each other. One made a rude gesture at the other. It was the angel who did it, surprisingly.

The group appeared confused by the sight in front of them. One of the group went to run out the door and was stopped by the outstretched wings of both guards, who firmly turned him around and pushed him back towards the reception desks.

"You're not permitted to leave until you sign out," the angelic knight declared. Conall could practically feel the bafflement radiating from the remaining humans.

"But we are permitted to leave?"

"Sure, sure. We just have a question to ask you all first, a little survey." The secretary on the other side of the room winked so exaggeratedly Conall could see it in the recording.

"As loath as I am to agree with that -," here the angelic receptionist glared across at the demonic secretary, who leered back, "he is correct."

"What's the catch," one of the group said flatly.

"All of you have to answer a question first, before you can sign out." The angel shuffled some papers around on his desk, picking up a clipboard.

"This better not be one of those fucking 'one of us tells only truths, the other tells only lies' riddles, I swear to fuck."

The demon snickered. "Nah, nothing like that. What do you take us for, fae?"

The angel snorted, then glared at the demon again for the offence of actually amusing him.

"Get the fuck on with it, then," the same guy who had tried to rush the doors said.

"If you were to decide between angels-," said the receptionist.

"Or demons-," said the secretary.

"Which would you choose?" said both in unison, before glaring at each other.

"That's it?"

"Yep," the demon answered, popping the p in the word like it was bubblegum. "But there's no way in hell we're letting any of you go if you don't say which."

"I just want you to know that I don't trust either of you for one goddamn second, but if I had to choose, it would be demons. I guess."

"A man of impeccable taste." The demon was grinning. "C'mon over here and sign yourself out."

The impatient guy grabbed the sign out sheet from the demonic secretary and scribbled his name, tossing it back at the secretary after.

"Okay, can I go already."

"Nope. Gotta ask the rest first."

"Fucking tease." He went to stare at and try to dodge around the bouncer, who kept catching him and giving out an annoyed porcine snort every time.

The next person to answer just said a laconic "angels", and signed out on the clipboard the angelic receptionist offered them, much to the receptionist's satisfaction. Conall kept an eye on both them and the impatient guy, certain that there was a catch somewhere.

It didn't take long. By the time the third person had given their choice and signed out (from the angel's reception, as the receptionist smirked over at the demon), the first two were starting to look a little strange.

The guy trying to dodge around the bouncer had shed his jacket for whatever reason, and Conall could see patches of a dark something spreading on his skin, along with the points of horns poking out from his hair. The second person was frantically trying to pull their sleeves down over feathers which had started to puff out from the ends and from between gaps in their clothing.

The fourth person had hardly placed pen to paper before the third's pristine white labcoat had reformed itself into pristine white leather bindings, tying her arms to one another in a straitjacket-esque way as she stumbled towards the other newly-made angel.

All of this happened very rapidly, so that by the time the fifth and final person was supposed to choose, there were already two new demons and two new angels in the throes of their transformations. The catch was now very obvious.

The impatient guy impatiently threw off the rest of his clothes, black fur spreading over him and a tail bursting from above his ass, legs warping and lengthening as he tripped over them in his attempt to escape the bouncer, who grabbed his waist and held him as he squirmed. He went very still when his ass bumped against the bouncer's leather-clad package. Then he moaned, rubbing himself back against them while the horns on his head grew larger and forked until they resembled a stag's in miniature. The bouncer groped the chest of the new... Jackalope demon...? He seemed pretty into it, cursing and impatiently telling them to get on with it and fuck him. Which they did. Loudly.

Conall averted his eyes, but the noise was as explicit as the sight, so he gave up looking away when he had to stop himself imagining what was happening instead. So he watched, and saw how the man continued to change. As the fucking went on, miniature bat wings fluttered on the guy's back and his feet turned into long hare-like paws. He came with a shout as the bouncer tugged on his new pointed tail.

The second person's clothing had exploded in a shower of feathers as their wings tore through them, multiple pairs which shielded them and their face from view. They seemed intent on examining themself, taking a pen and paper from the reception to make notes, and gently rebuffed the leather-bound angel as she asked for help with her 'aches'.

Her grinning colleague who had signed out at the devil's desk was only too happy to 'help', pressing clawed fingers against the crotch of the angel's trousers and letting her grind against it. This person looked more like a stereotypical demon with each passing moment, her skin turning a lurid crimson as her high-heeled feet reshaped into high-heel like hooves. It was unusual for a demon to take such interest in an angel, but it looked like she was getting enormous pleasure from teasing the needy, helpless angel woman. Who seemed to be enjoying it in her own way - although golden tears flowed from beneath her closed eyes, expression frustrated as any attempt to press harder against the demon's hand resulted in her taking it away. When Conall glanced away for a moment and then back, a white leather blindfold had materialised on her, and the demon was slipping a red-and-white collar around her neck, while her sinuous red leathery tail curled possessively around the angel's leg. The strange duo were probably going to be together for quite some time, he thought with his face hot.

The last person stammered as they looked from one reception to the other, and at the tableau in front of them where torn clothes and feathers and writhing bodies attested to how choosing was a carefully-laid trap for anyone who had gotten that far.

"What if... I like both...?" They ventured, red-faced.

"Then we'll just have to show you who does it better," the demonic secretary said, before miming a few lewd gestures with his manicured fingers.

"As if." The angelic receptionist clicked his fingers, and the stoic angelic knight stepped forward, now wearing a gleaming metal strap-on over the armour's gleaming metal codpiece. It was almost absurd rather than sexy, if not for the one remaining human's flustered expression as the knight pushed their skirt up over their waist and ran metal-clad fingers along their slit.

The demonic secretary himself had hopped over the desk on his side of the room, a hard-on tenting the front of his costume's short skirt and sheer tights as he strode over with a sway in his hips. Pointed, lacquered nails grabbed the human's face.

"How about I stuff you from this end while the angel fucks that end? Then you tell us which you preferred. If you can still talk by then," he said with a wink.

"Uh." They seemed to have a hard time coming up with words as the angel's fingers probed their slit. "Sounds good. Yeah. Let's do it."

From the safety of his desk, Conall rolled his eyes. Looks like trying to outsmart them was pointless. Not that the person in the video seemed too disappointed that escape was slipping from their grasp with every thrust of the angel's and the demon's hips. From the muffled noises they were making, far from it.

Conall shifted in his chair as he watched the spitroast, his cock making its interest in the video clear while he tried to watch to see what kind of metahuman the person was going to become.

The angel who had been making notes about their own form waved for the angelic receptionist to hand over the clipboard, announcing the observations they were writing down with apparent scientific detachment. They certainly didn't seem to have any interest in joining in. Conall pondered this as his blood increasingly left his brain and went towards making his cock strain against his pants instead. It was possible they were asexual, or uninterested in sexual contact with others for whatever reason, like the fae lyre player had been, or more interested in the scientific method. Or that they were sexually aroused by the scientific method itself. Conall had met a few researchers like that in his time with Orpheus. Although he couldn't think clearly enough to remember any specific names at that moment.

Not when the angel and demon were intent on fucking the humanity out of the person between them. They were the moaning, twitching human meat in an angel-demon spitroast. Conall had a brief moment of jealousy before he slapped his own cheek for losing sight of why he was watching. It wasn't for his own enjoyment. It was to better understand how metahumans worked so he could protect his staff. So this kind of thing wouldn't happen to them. He didn't want it to happen to him, either.

The firm thrusts of both the angel and demon didn't slow when the human's back arched and their clothes ripped apart from the inside out. Iridescent black and white wings like a magpie's exploded out of the shredded clothing, but unlike a magpie they were covered in eyespots which opened into gleaming copper eyes. A feathered serpentine tail covered in similar patterning curled out from beneath their skirt. Even after the demon came down their throat, they grasped his hips and wouldn't let him pull away until they had sucked him dry.

When they at last let go, he could see the changes which had taken place to their face. Molten eyes and a copper halo that endlessly dripped, the slight suggestion of a snout and a tongue which was long and ribbed. They twisted around to lift the visor of the angel guard's armour, shoving their mouths together and digging clawed fingers into the angel's wings. A ragged, needy sound came from the armour-clad angel when the hybrid metahuman drew back at last.

Conall got the absurd feeling that he was looking at an apex predator of both angels and demons. Especially when they turned the demon secretary around and fingerfucked him on his own desk, edging him until he begged and moaned and promised to be good.

Then, they announced they were going for a walk outside if anyone wanted to join them. At that point Conall stopped the recording, slid his chair back from the desk, and tried his best to think of what conclusions he could draw from any of that while his throbbing hard-on did its best to make it too hard to think of anything. The fact that some of the Orpheus staff hadn't even touched the metahumans there before transforming... It was difficult to puzzle through in his hazy brain, but he concluded maybe the sign-out sheet and clipboard were 'cursed' objects in their own right, transmitting the transformation to those who touched them...?

The strange angel-demon hybrid was notable - hybrids of more than one kind of metahuman faction were rare, but not entirely unheard of, although with how demons and angels squabbled, the one he'd seen was even more rare. That was about the only other useful thought he could squeeze out of his over-wrung brain at that moment. Conall was really hard. Watching that had affected him more than usual... He took even, measured breaths and he clenched and unclenched his hands, doing his best to ignore the urge to touch.

Eventually he calmed himself enough to waddle to the kitchen, trying not to let his thighs brush against his erection, biting his lip to distract from it. It would have been disrespectful to why he was watching any of the security videos in the first place to use them for his own pleasure. So he boiled the kettle and watched the steam and then made himself a cup of chamomile tea.

Conall had a terrible night's sleep after that. He was sweaty, and the bedsheets rubbed against his over-sensitive body, and he had strange disjointed dreams which he couldn't remember when he woke. His Sunday passed in an exhausted haze, and when he went to the monthly football match with his old college friends his reaction times were so slow he missed a few opportunities to score a goal, prompting a couple of concerned questions afterwards about whether he was feeling alright. He assured them he was fine, more or less, but came to the decision that he'd have to avoid any sleepless nights like that one. It really wasn't good for him.

Watching in the afternoon instead probably wouldn't work; he'd be as pent up for an entire day then, if he didn't do anything to address it. He quietly conceded to himself that next time, if he got that worked up, he would have to do something about it afterwards... He shouldn't be having that reaction to watching the chaos caused by the metahuman containment breach, but if it was unavoidable, it wouldn't help anyone or anything to leave himself sleep deprived afterwards. At least if he put on some regular porn afterwards he wouldn't be jerking himself to videos or thoughts of Epsilon-1's transformed staff.

Thankfully he didn't have to justify it to anyone except himself.

Despite half expecting them to, Eon hadn't so much as made a single suggestive comment about how he was getting on with the videos in the interim. He was a little surprised that they hadn't brought back up the recordings after giving him the link, and more than a little relieved. They were happy to chat about inconsequential things, seemingly satisfied that Conall wasn't going to cut short the conversation now that he had what he wanted. Conall wouldn't have known what to say to them about the security videos, anyway. His goals in watching the videos were diametrically opposed to Eon's entire raison d'être, and pointing out issues he'd identified in the site security would only be telling Eon exactly which weaknesses Orpheus had. Conall wanted to help prevent his staff becoming metahumans, while Eon presumably wanted to turn everyone into beings like them.

It was really very troubling that Orpheus had lost a site director to becoming a metahuman, someone who had such an intimate knowledge of how they functioned - but thankfully that didn't have much bearing on Conall's conversation with them. It was just friendly chit-chat, nothing sinister about it as far as he could tell. He had gained some insight from the videos, too, which ought to offset the blow to Orpheus as a whole.

He mulled over all of that during the working week, with his thoughts taken up by it in almost every moment of free time, except for during the usual meeting of the site orchestra.

Stepping into the music room once he unlocked it was a relief, and it was easy to put aside most other concerns while he was there. Of course, at the back of his mind was the threat to his staff, the orchestra members included, but he let himself enjoy greeting the ones there before him and engaging in a little small talk while they were waiting for everyone to arrive. Calling it an orchestra was a very grand title for something with barely two or three musicians in each section, but they had a conductor and all; moreover, they had a conductor who wasn't Conall. Back when they had begun, Conall had to take the position himself, and he vastly preferred getting to play instead. So he was beyond grateful when Lorraine transferred from another site, although he didn't know her particularly well, because she not only agreed to take over the conductor role but enjoyed it.

Out of all the orchestra members, he probably knew Oskar the best. They had worked alongside each other as researchers. He was friendly and irreverent while off duty; when he arrived for practice he gave Conall a wave and a little grin.

Conall smiled back at him before taking his place in the woodwind section and removing his flute from its travel case. Following a warm-up, Lorraine took her place and raised the conductor's baton. For a brief while, there was nothing but Conall and the sheet music in front of him and the music around him. It felt like he had barely immersed himself in it when the last few notes of the last run-through of Gluck's Dance of the Blessed Spirits trailed off into silence and practice drew to a close, although he knew that nearly an hour had passed. He sighed, mouth dry, and cleaned off his flute before putting it away again.

Everyone else seemed to be in high spirits about their progress, for which he was glad. The moments in which Conall could lose himself in performing were always too brief, that was all.

He couldn't help but linger after everyone else had packed up. Besides it being his job to lock the music room, he was reluctant to accept that when he stepped back outside the door, he'd have to worry about every other thing aside from playing the right notes at the right time. Today he wasn't the last, however. Oskar was still there, violin case hanging from his shoulder.

"Hey, Conall. How've you been?" He gave an easy smile, and Conall was struck by the thought that maybe Oskar had been waiting for no other reason than to talk to him.

"I've been better, honestly. How about yourself?" Conall couldn't help his wry expression, and Oskar made a sympathetic noise.

"That's a shame, man. I've been doing pretty well, actually. It's good to be back doing stuff, especially playing music. Sometimes you underestimate how important a thing is until you can't do it, you know?"

Conall nodded. "Right, right. How did the, um, top surgery go? And the recovery?"

"It's a real weight off my chest, I'll tell you that much." Oskar made finger guns at him and Conall choked back a laugh. "It's... Yeah. Kind of a dream come true, really. Especially now I'm cleared to play again. Orpheus covering the costs helped too, of course. One less thing to worry about."

"I'm glad," Conall said genuinely. "I can't really imagine what that's like... It's good that we were able to cover it. And that I got to help vote affirming healthcare into Orpheus' policies when it was put to the site directors." That policy proposal was one of Eon's, he recalled with a slight pang of loss. They really had been forward-thinking as a director.

"Yeah. It's pretty sound," Oskar said with great emphasis. He grinned at Conall's scrunched up expression.

"Don't take this wrong, but that sounds weird coming from you."

"Yeah, well, we can't all have an Irish accent." He raised an eyebrow, suddenly looking thoughtful. "Do you want to come over to mine after work? You look like you could do with a break. We could hang out, catch up some more, do other stuff... Y'know, to help you relax." Oskar winked.

Other stuff?

Wait a second. By 'other stuff', he meant sex, didn't he? His face hot, Conall blanked on a reply. What he managed, stupidly, was to blurt out a "wait, are you coming on to me?"

He got a good-natured smirk in reply, followed by Oskar lightly saying "well, it depends. Is it working?"

Conall felt his skin prickle in response. A spark of interest stirred in him as he took in Oskar's teasing, expectant expression.

Then he stamped out the spark before it could catch.

"I'm honestly flattered, but I have to refuse," Conall said as firmly as he could manage. He truly was flattered, though. Was he really that desirable? "I'm afraid it wouldn't be appropriate, I am technically your boss, after all."

A sigh.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. Worth a try, though." Oskar shrugged, not looking too put-out, and Conall felt relieved he hadn't caused too much upset. "I should have made a move when you were still a researcher, huh? But look, I get it. The offer is still open to hang out, though. In a not trying to get into your pants kind of way. We can just chill and catch up?"

Conall bit the inside of his cheek as he considered it.

"I'd like to, but... I'm really busy at the moment." Using every spare moment trying to figure out how to stop Phi-2 from going the way of Epsilon-1. But he didn't say that. It was his job to worry about, and Oskar didn't need his worries. "Maybe another time."

For the first time during the conversation, Conall saw Oskar actually frown.

"It's good there's someone in charge who takes shit seriously, but man, you do need a break sometime. Let me know if you change your mind about hanging out, okay? Don't worry your ass about turning me down for hooking up, I'm a big boy, I can get over it. No hard feelings there. I'll see you around, alright? At the next practice if nothing else."

"I am in awe of your emotional maturity," Conall said, lightly teasing, but also to distract from how his eyes felt a little wet because he hadn't really spent much time with his former researcher colleagues in a while and Oskar still cared.

"King of emotional maturity, that's me. But... You gotta relax somehow or you're gonna have a heart attack before you're 50. Just keep it in mind."

He held his arms open and Conall went in for a quick hug before Oskar left.

"I'll do what I can," Conall said, and he meant it. He simply had so many other important things to keep in mind first.

-

Offsetting the loss of Epsilon-1 was at the forefront of Conall's thoughts when he sat down the following Saturday to continue watching his way through the security footage. He chose to follow the other half of the group which split up last time. He recognised the person who had threatened to fight his way out with a chair and had to wonder how far that kind of energy would get him.

Not all that far, apparently - the small group was stopped at the corner of the hallway by a broad and imposing metahuman with traits like both a demon and a lion, fragments of a torn labcoat clinging to his muscular arms. Conall found the video feed from the camera directly above the lion demon and switched to it, now with a view showing the concerned and annoyed expressions of the humans as the demon challenged one of them to a wrestling match.

"If one of you steps forward to wrestle me, I'll let the rest of your merry little group pass, on my word as a lion." This asshole had been waiting in the hall the entire time so he could wrestle someone as payment for the rest to pass by, Conall guessed. Metahumans were weird.

"How do we know you're not lyin'," one of them challenged, deliberate emphasis on the last word.

There was a pause, and the demon laughed, a thundering chuckle that shook his mane.

"You don't." The demon composed himself. "But as you can see, I'm not a cheetah."

The complete ridiculousness of it had Conall laughing helplessly to himself. It took some brass cheek to challenge the demon and make shitty puns at the same time. "Cheetah" he might not be, but it was very obviously a trap of sorts anyway - wrestling would require full body contact, exposing whoever it was to the metahuman and likely causing their own metamorphosis soon after.

Everyone there knew that, but someone still stepped forward to volunteer. Perhaps unsurprisingly it was the chair guy, as Conall had mentally dubbed him. Who else had the same combination of willingness to fight with the desire to 'sacrifice' himself in a cool looking way? Conall leaned in a bit closer to the screen, curious how this was going to play out.

True to his word, the demon lion stepped to the side and motioned to the rest of the group to pass, before leaning into the chair guy's personal space and inhaling deeply. Chair guy, to his credit, didn't appear intimidated by the looming and sniffing at him at all.

"You wanna go, huh?!" Chair guy said, taking a step forward so they were nearly nose-to-nose. Like one of those highly homoerotic clips from a boxing match, Conall thought.

"Little mouse thinks he's ready," the demon near purred. "On the count of three, then." He stepped back and into a wider, clearer part of the hallway.

The other humans lingered a few metres away, turning to watch as the demonic lion counted down. The two competitors sized each other up, stretching and flexing in ways that were probably supposed to be intimidating.

"Three... Two.... One! Let's RRRUMBLE!"

Immediately the lion lunged forward and attempted to grab chair guy. He dodged surprisingly deftly. In return he got a few jabs in at the lion's chest. The lion was unphased by the punches. Catching the human's arm, he twisted it behind the man's back, chuckling darkly. Conall couldn't tell what the demon rumbled in the man's ear but he could see the redness it brought to his face. Dropping to his haunches he broke the hold and retreated, holding his fists up again.

"Ohoho, what's this? Someone is fighting?" Another demon swooped in from down the hallway and landed nearby, with horns framing her asymmetrical undercut and skimpy athletic wear leaving most of her powerful body on display. "And none of you even thought of commentating? For shame." From nowhere she produced an old-fashioned microphone. "Welcome one and all to the inaugural bout of the, uh. The Epsilon-1 wrestling league! Yeah! Who will win? Human or metahuman? Man or beast? You'll have to keep watching to find out!"

The humans side-eyed this new addition for a moment, but their attention was quickly drawn back to the fight. The lion had tripped chair guy while he was distracted by the commentator's arrival. But he turned the tables by catching the lion's legs with his as he went down. It sent the demon sprawling on top of him. That didn't upset the demon even slightly - he laughed, and rubbed his chest against the human under him in one languid motion, like a cat stretching.

Chair guy hissed, and pushed him off, scrambling away to stand up panting heavily.

"Someone's flustered," the announcer said with vicious glee. "What's the matter, can't stand having a muscular, bare chest sliding across yours?"

So distracted was he by holding his middle finger up at the announcer, that he didn't notice the lion creep up behind him with claws outstretched. In one quick movement, the demon rent the clothes from his torso, shredding everything on his upper half and leaving it hanging from the guy in messy ribbons. He wheeled around and punched the lion in the snout. The lion's nose started bleeding.

Nothing seemed to phase the leonine demon - even the nosebleed pulled a sharp grin from him, and his big flat tongue slipped out to lick the blood away. His opponent on the other hand went even more red, and threw several more reckless punches the demon's way. The demon dodged the frenzied attack with ease, and then caught the human in a face-to-face grapple, arms pinned to his sides. He said something too low for the recording to have picked up, his tail swishing lazily.

To Conall's - and the lion's - surprise, the human shoved his leg in between the lion's, leaning forward to press his thigh into the bulge in the demon lion's wrestling shorts that was so substantial it could be seen from the video. The demon's grip faltered in his surprise, and the human slipped out of the grapple with a feral grin. The announcer whooped and cheered at this turn around.

From then on things got ever more suggestive - the lion shredded the human's trousers as well, leaving him in just his shoes, underwear, and sad strips of ripped clothing which hung from his form. The human got the demon in a headlock in return, pushing him down until the demon's face was in line with his crotch. His smug look vanished when the demon ran his catlike tongue over the front of the human's boxer briefs, leaving a wet spot and no doubt that the other man was also aroused. In his shock, the human let go of the demon with a curse.

It was around then that some of the human spectators left, having grown tired of the macho posturing turned obvious foreplay. Conall kept watching.

The human started getting rowdier, wilder, biting at the lion's ear and pulling at his tail, seemingly doing anything to ruin his composure. It didn't have the effect he was likely hoping for. Yes, the demon yowled, but it sounded less angry and more needy. But he was spurred on rather than deterred. And as he got the demon on the floor again, the two rolling around to try to get on top, the beginning of a tail slipped out of the guy's waistband along with striped patterns flowing across his exposed skin.

There it was. The inevitable consequence of an erotically-charged shirtless "wrestling" match with a metahuman. Conall probably could have stopped the video there, knowing where it was going. He didn't, though. It was all too easy to leave the video playing as he sat transfixed in his chair, breath loud to his own ears in the quiet of the apartment.

In the video, the man's face stretched and shifted into a feline snout with swept-back horns as the leonine demon pinned him in place, back against the ground. The new tiger demon growled, claws scoring an angry scratch across the lion's arm as he broke out of being pinned.

"I'm not that easy," he snarled, standing up and pushing the other demon off him. "If you want my cock you gotta earn it."

The lion threw his head back and laughed. "This cat's got claws!"

The announcer gleefully interrupted. "You saw it here first, folks! Hot heel-on-heel action as these two frisky felines try to prove who is the real king of the jungle. What can I say but 'Mrrrow'."

Taking advantage of the distraction caused by the announcer, the lion dodged around the new demon's wild swings and punches and grabbed the base of the tiger's tail. His back arched and he let out an undignified mewling noise that got louder when the lion tugged.

"Cheater!" He slapped the lion's hand away from his tail, lashing it angrily. The bulge in his boxers was even more noticeable now.

Going on the offensive, the tiger demon got the other in a hold with the lion's arms twisted behind his back, half bent over, holding him in place as he ground against the lion's ass. His other hand went around to do... Something. Conall couldn't see from the camera angle.

When the lion started mewling and moaning, it became abundantly clear.

All of a sudden the tiger let go and pushed at the backs of the lion's legs, making him stagger and fall to his knees. He was on him then, shoving the lion demon face down on the ground.

He pounced on top of him and pushed him down when the lion tried to rise, seemingly unwilling to "lose" the "fight". The tiger demon knelt with his knees on either side of the leonine demon's ass and dug claws into the fur on his back. He rutted slowly against the lion's ass while pushing the other demon's chest into the floor.

"Yield," the tiger growled.

"Hmm... Nah." There was obvious breathiness in the lion's voice. "You're gonna have to fuck all the fight out of me."

The tiger growled lowly and tore the lion demon's jocks off with his claws. He tore off his own a moment later, exposing his obscenely pointed cock to the camera. It was like his hips moved of their own accord now that his hard-on was free, grinding down even harder against the lion's ass than before. Conall swallowed hard at the sight.

It was impossible to stop watching. As yowls and moans increasingly filled the air, the announcer fell silent. Then it was just the sights and sounds of the two sexualised beasts who used to be human, chasing their pleasure on the hallway floor.

Before long the tiger reached his peak, hips speeding up as he roared ecstatically. One more twitch of his hips, and he buried his teeth in the scruff of the lion's neck and came all over the golden fur of the other demon's back.

Conall heard a small, plaintive, needy sound in the room with him, and tore his gaze from the screen to look around for the source. Then he realised he made that noise himself - and fumbled to hit the off button on the video still displaying the two demons writhing against each other.

It was only when he turned off the video and sat there at his desk, flushed and on edge, that Conall realised he'd forgotten to try to analyse what he was watching as it happened. He cursed himself for getting caught up in the spectacle of it. Probably the only conclusion he could draw was "don't make extremely obvious deals with demons".

Other than that he couldn't think of anything. He was so horny after what he'd seen that he felt slow and dim-witted. He blinked, remembering the decision he had made before. If he watched some normal porn with nothing metahuman related in it, at least he could get off without thinking about any of that, and then get a decent night's sleep afterwards.

Conall opened a browser tab and navigated to PornClub. At that moment he was in the mood for something with hot guys, he decided. To get the earlier visuals out of his mind, that was all.

He took a minute or two to pick a video out of the top ones in the gay male category, and clicked into one with a thumbnail showing the bottom's face being shoved into the mattress and a title about a twink getting dominated. That sort of power dynamic wasn't his usual thing but he didn't care. His dick had twitched in interest at the description and that was it.

Once he started touching himself to the video he realised how pent up he truly was. A single proper stroke to his cock was like a bolt of lightning down his spine. He wasn't going to last the entire video, even as short as it was. So Conall didn't try. He fixed his eyes on the bottom getting ploughed hard onscreen, and fucked his fist as he watched.

How would it feel, to be in that situation himself? In the bottom's place, being held down and fucked, a strong body pressed against his back. Being filled and surrounded and dominated. His fist sped up as he imagined the sensations, the heat of flesh pressed against his, surrounding him, filling him until he couldn't think anymore.

He closed his eyes as his hips bucked up into his hand, the sound of the porn in the background driving on his fantasies. God, he wanted a cock in his ass. He wanted to be full up, fucked hard and deep as he moaned. A hand around his cock jerking him off.

Conall could almost feel it. The heat, touch, being surrounded inside and out, having pleasure fucked into him. He squirmed and shoved his hips against his hand, panting desperately. He would feel the shudders of the body on top of him, the bite of sharp teeth in the back of his neck, the flood of warmth as both of them came - his cock twitching through his release -

Wait. The bite of sharp teeth?

The thought felt odd, but he was already coming. He shoved questioning it aside for now. Now was for twitching and moaning in his chair and a warm fog that turned all thoughts in his head soft and indistinct.

He drifted on the feeling for a long while. It was some time since he'd gotten off like that. But the thought came back to bother him. He couldn't stop the pleasant little shudder at the thought of someone biting the scruff of his neck during sex, even if it was really out of place in his normal fantasies. What the hell was that about? Where did that even come from?

Ah.

It wasn't the porn - it was - the videos with the goddamn wrestling cat demons.

A wave of shame crashed on Conall so hard it sobered him up immediately. No, no no. He hadn't seriously gotten off to the thought of the Epsilon-1 security videos. That's not what had happened.

Fuck, he had.

Face burning, he shuffled to the bathroom to clean himself up and splash water in his face and avoid the guilty look in his reflection.