“I don’t recall when I first felt the powerful tug of wanderlust; early in my teens I suppose. One would think I lived the perfect life, ruler over a wealthy kingdom and all, but the paperwork, the damn paperwork! Pointless document after document; let my vizier run the Kingdom in my absence – there is a wide world out there and I need to explore it!

Up ahead is the valley I seek. Secluded, with only the narrowest of paths leading into it. No idea how I first found the way, stumbled upon it looking to outrun a coming winter storm I suppose. Winter always comes early to these mountains, a fact I had yet to fully appreciate back then. Lost my way as I hurried towards the last open pass; little did I realize the pleasures I would sample that evening.

Peaceful this place is still, with its stone hut and its vegetable garden. The lady of the hut appears to have planted numerous pumpkins this year, a late season’s crop. There the young wolfess is now, bidding me to come inside and warm myself by her fire, just as during my previous visit. It is almost as if she were expecting me, but I know that cannot be, for I am alone, on foot and even I did not know if I would seek out her company this particular journey. But the shadows grew long earlier than I was expecting, and I remember well the warmth of her bosom – it is not just the logs in her fireplace which give off more heat when poked – and so I altered my afternoon steps towards her abode; a last minute change in plans.

She lives here alone, so she says, yet her wine is of the finest; no idea how this she-wolf came to possess such a delicious beverage this far into the mountains nor who helped her build her cabin. To carry even a small keg up her path and down into the valley would be arduous work. She appears glad to see me, gives me well-filled goblet, says she has been lonely and hoped I might come again one day; I take her words to mean there will be a fresh night of passion between us. I remember the previous time she and I coupled; her nectar flowed freely and filled the air with the aroma of a bitch filled with much want.

Dammit! The wine was drugged! I can barely move my limbs, and now she utters a spell of binding! A witch! I have fallen into a witch’s grasp! Now a longer spell, much more complicated, a spell of transformation. I watch my limbs change and my fur darken. She rests, though only briefly.

Now the witch casts a common shrink spell, all of my clothes falling loosely about me, upon the blankets and the cushions. She leans over me, towering above, and reaching down she touches my most private parts, then she laughs, “not so mighty now, are you my King of Argentin?”

She says more, and so I now know she is after my kingdom’s magical gems guarded behind the meters of concrete and steel which constitute the royal vault. She tells me I am to be her familiar, for the remainder of my unnatural life; and to guarantee my loyalty she casts a powerful geas upon my soul. She loosens her previous verbal binding, allowing me some freedom, and gives me simple command – I move to obey it immediately. A stupid test, she only asked for me to make her fresh tea.

She is young, foolish, and inexperienced. She wrongly believes me to be hers as I fulfill her command and she begins to attire herself in clothing better matching to her true nature.

By the time I bring her the demanded cup she has already dressed.

My royal pedigree lists several wizards among my ancestors, consequently I am a minor sorcerer in my own way. The free-will of my bloodline is strong and I felt the anti-geas charm embedded within my jewelry hold fast against her magic. It seems her master plan is to command me to climb my own palace's walls, to utter the secret pass-codes to gain entrance into the vaults and for me to bring her the Star of Zanzibar; my kingdom’s most powerful gem! Well we will see about that! Her treachery towards a guest who came in peace seeking only shelter for a night or two has made my mood most foul.

To scale the walls she left me opposable thumbs, and so I sit patiently while she drinks of her cup, all the while formulating my plan of attack. She continues to admire the crafting her magic has made upon my form, but this examination of hers cannot continue for the entire night; at some point she will have to be about some other task. I will indeed plunder vault tonight, witch, but not the one you are contemplating! Instead of royal vault I intend to plunder your honey pot until it spills its sweet nectar upon earthen ground in abundance! Put down your wand, witch, look away; and then you will see how loyal your would-be familiar truly is!

She did just as I predicted. It was nothing to seize the wand and reverse such a simple spell of shrinking, a mere second’s utterance! I smell her fear hit the air the very moment she realizes her blunder. Powerful hands and muscular arms have her at my mercy, what little of my mercy remains for her to implore! I am quite familiar with the game of love, witch, its forms, its conventions and how it should be played; but with your assault upon my body I will now take by force what I had originally intended to ask for politely.

I see no reason for muscles alone to expend the effort required for tonight’s teaching and so I drag her outside to garden fencing where I will make my own allies. Here she will remain for the hours; it is my intention the morning’s sun rise upon her well-used form!

I set about the giving of the night’s first lesson.

From the expression on the she-wolf’s face it appears she did not expect me to retain the feline barbs she bestowed upon me with my transformation. I think she best get used to them. I intend to retain this form and associated barbs until I have fully satisfied myself within her; though it does seem from her utterances she is deriving some kind of pleasure from the thorough plundering of her pink cave. Even if strong feline shafting has never before stroked her clinging walls she is enjoying it now. Her sensitive flesh is already wet enough, that I do know; and I hear droplets of her feminine nectar falling onto the ground.

My wish is for tonight’s lessons to take, and in the future I hope the she-wolf thinks twice before treating guest arriving in her valley with the same lack of courtesy she showed me.”

-Alecrast, King of Argentin