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Monster Breeding, by Jezebel Rose

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The thing no one had ever told Anya about summons was their musk.

Yeah, they went on and on about how angry they could be when first summoned—how they often turned on their summoners. (Anya herself had a sizable trio of scars on her belly—leftovers from when her own summon, Lustre, had nearly gutted her during his initial calling.) There were warnings on the effects of being merged with them too long, on the corruptive effects that their touch—normal or, ahem, intimate—could have on the human body.

But man. Nobody ever mentioned the scent.

It probably changed from summoning to summoning, Anya admitted. Not everyone had a six-and-a-half-foot bipedal mustelid living in their home. But Lustre’s musk—a heavy, almost humid sort of scent that permeated their abode—was impossible to ignore. It was earthy and pleasing and bespoke the primal lusts of a beast in a rut. Anya herself was more than a little affected by it.

She wouldn’t be the first. Monsters were born in the world—a part-bestial, part-human race caused by the union of summoning and man. To the best of her knowledge, it took special potions and herbs to make such unions compatible.

So you might as well try, part of her mind teased her. There’s no chance of getting knocked up without those potions. Just enjoy the raw, primal monster cock you have at your disposal.

Anya often shook her head at such notions, but sometimes, when she saw Lustre tromping around, his cream-and-umber fur standing out and his enormous sheath resting in its place on his loins, she got a bit distracted.

—

Touching herself around Lustre seemed weird, so Anya had come up with a solution: merge with the beast.

That was the key benefit of a summon. The summoner could fuse with it, taking on aspects of their strengths. When merged with Lustre, Anya’s limbs changed—her legs sprouted creamy off-white fur, shifting from human knees and ankles to a digitigrade structure. Her arms grew darker fur, her hands ending in cruel-tipped claws, and Lustre’s floppy ears replaced her own. Small fangs crept into her mouth, and the scars on her stomach darkened.

Under normal circumstances, she made use of this form’s extra strength and agility in combat, but she delighted instead in the sensory improvements for today. Every touch seemed to build in her like a lump of hot coal or ember.

Please purchase this story and support me as an author! Thank you! ~ Jezebel Rose

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