Pleasure Pets of Meshada

How does one make the Pleasure Pets of Meshada's Playground?

Let's start with a human. In this case a woman. She has spent her life from her second flowering in service of the Sharon Clan. On a visit from the Prime Matan, their lord Psyathac, took an interest in her. He'd mourned 30 years for the loss of his last wife. Humans really were such short-lived creatures. More pet than wife, he'd loved her all the same. It was his taste and predilection, perverted as it was. He loved the simple pleasures of married life, and the inevitable mortality. It was something he could not get from other members of his immortal race.

As is his pleasure, when she came of age, he took this woman, as his wife. He cared for her and would refuse her very little. He gave her a son to raise and a life of love and laughter. Psyathac would never be human, but he could pass for one and he liked to pretend.

It just so happened one day, her lord and master was entertaining foreign guests, as his position required from time to time. It would not be the first time she had opened a door in her own home without knocking; it really was a bad habit; to collect the washing in the early morning. It would also not be the first time this caused her to catch an eyeful of someone else's private moments. What was a first was the way the woman was restrained. At first, she thought to call her husband and tell him of the woman's predicament, but the look on her face, made her pause and reconsider. The visitor wore a look of childish glee, even as her arms were bound behind her, and her calves were strapped to her thighs with a silver colored metal. The Hostess watched through a crack in the door as a muscular man moved into frame. He descended on the woman's bound form, eliciting a squeal of delight.

A hand moved between hers and the handle of the door. She had become aware of the figure behind her too late to do anything about being caught. The man behind her quietly shut the door, careful not to let the latch click. She screwed up her courage and turned to look into her husband's dark disapproving eyes. She meekly followed him to their bed chamber.

She was afraid he would be angry. If this were the first wife that he'd caught watching his guests, or the second, or the third, he would be. By now he realized this was just something humans did, and they didn't mean any harm by it. Even so, he would not permit his guests to be watched in a situation where they should be able to expect privacy. He was gentle, but firm with her as he explained this. Seeing was an accident. Watching was where she'd gone too far. When he was sure she knew what her mistake had been, he assured her that if there were no repeats, they never needed to speak of this incident again. With that he considered the matter resolved.

In the days that followed Psyathac noticed a change in his wife. A periodic absent mindedness would fall upon her. When he'd ask her about it, she would always smile up at him sweetly and insist it was nothing. He wondered, not for the first time, why humans so habitually lied.

Resting in his arms after enjoying his attentions one night, she plucked up her courage to ask.

"About the other night, when you caught me watching... I realize you said we would never have to speak of it again, and I took that to mean you wouldn't want to, but..."

By the veil, she was so cute when she bit her lip like that. "You took that right, but if it's bothering you, I would rather know, so I can try to ease your mind." He kissed her mouth, and felt her melt into his embrace.

Reassured, she described what she had seen. He wrinkled his nose in disgust "It's not something I understand myself."

"She just looked so happy."

"Some people find that kind of thing pleasurable. I wish I could explain it to you."

"I think..." There she went, biting her lip again. Her mind was moving in an inscrutable pattern. It was almost enough for him to break and demand she out with it.

Eventually she kissed him, deep and pleading with all he heart and body that he would still love her if she asked. "I think I want to see if I would like it too."

In all his centuries, this was a first. He had never considered that a predilection he could not wrap his head around could be present in his mate. He looked at her dumbstruck. Her eyes, those deep, storm cloud grey blue eyes, looking up at him hopefully.

After a minute she broke, burying her head in his chest, begging him to still love her. They didn't have to talk about this again. It wasn't important, just a silly little idea. They could go back to the way they were. She promised. She pleaded. She begged him to just forget she had ever said anything.

All he could do was pet her head while he tried to wrap his mind around what he had just heard. The truth was, she and he could never go back to the way they were before. She had always been adoring, kind, loving, and obedient. How could be possibly bring himself to deny her this?

In the coming days he made arrangements. He could not bring himself to satisfy her curiosity, but he could find it in himself to put her in expert hands. It was no secret who among his kind was the most well equipped to handle this potential predilection. From introduction to indulging the most extreme heights of perverted pleasure, Meshada's hands were arguably the most experienced, and more importantly, the safest.

She continued in her roles as mother, daughter, sister, neighbor, hostess and wife. She only adored her husband more, never denying him his pleasure as he brought her again and again into Meshada's never-ending display of exotic fantasies turned reality. She tried and tested anything presented that appealed to her, always returning gratefully to her husband's generous loving arms.

As the years marched on, unconcerned with their happiness, her visits to Meshada's Playground grew less and less frequent. Her son grew up and had two children of his own. Her hair grew white as she enjoyed seeing her grandchildren both grow into fine young people who found love and married. Her child and grandchildren were grown, and she was too infirm to enjoy the pleasures of her youth, or even comfort her husband in the ways she felt he deserved. It was time, she decided. She would ask for another boon from her husband.

While he rubbed her tired feet one evening, she made her wishes known. The request shook him. He thought to tell her no. As he looked deep into those hopeful, ever stormy eyes, just like all those years ago, he couldn't bring himself to deny her this either. This time, she was patient with him. He slowly softened the look of shock on his face. He leaned over her, kissed her long, soft, and deeply. When he pulled back, he whispered "Of course, my love."

Psyathac was attentive as he helped her carefully navigate the stairs from Meshada's reception area, to the sand covered floor of this other worldly playground. It was much as she remembered from her many visits in her youth. The lighting, the fixtures of which she never properly identified, kept the large area in a mimicry of natural sunlight, complete with twilight periods. The area was surrounded by a curving glass cage with strange creatures that leapt through fruit trees and watched them as they arrived. The long deep couch curved around one side of the play area. This was for spectators to gather, and participants to rest. The seating was deep and soft enough for cuddling... or a bit of fun outside the main event.

As she descended the stairs she was graced with warm welcomes, smiling faces, and open arms; as well as a few welcomed predatory leers. She was encouraged to find a place on the long low couch. Her husband held her as the room fell silent. The master of the realm, Meshada, made his way from the back of the large area to position himself between the gathered spectators and a low table, supported by a single thick curved pedestal.

"This is a closed group event, not meant for the casual observer. You all know the rules, and what is expected to happen today. I ask you to remain respectful. The decision of this day's honored guest was not reached flippantly, but was reached after long and deliberate consideration. Her reasons are her own and not mine to share. I will keep them to myself as I have done for every person before her who has made this request of me."

The guests nodded a respectful ascent.

"Come my dear." He held out his hand to her.

She clung to her husband as he stroked her hair and kissed her forehead. She reached out her hand to take Meshada's and he guided her to the table.

He commanded her to strip, get on the table, and assume position M1. She folded her clothes neatly and handed them to Meshada who walked over and presented them to Psyathac. The table was low enough she was actually able to lower herself onto it. Her bones ached and muscles complained as she assumed the once familiar position. On her knees, knees hip width apart, hands on her ankles, chin up.

As a dream mage, who'd been practicing his craft longer than Psyathac had been alive, he'd had time to consider so many details of what would become her new body, her new life. He pulled out his once familiar dark switch from a fold in his robes. He ran it gently down her spine, extending the stroke. A tale grew out of her spine preceding the tip of the switch. It grew to about half the length of her body sprouting a fine white fur. She looked back at her new appendage and smiled, giving a little giggle. Meshada tapped the table with his switch to remind her to focus. He didn't have to tell her to run the test. She ran the tip of the tail from the base all the way down it's length. It performed exactly how it was meant to. Next were her feet, lying on their side to accommodate the new length. She was permitted, even expected, to release her pose at this point. She positioned her new feet under her, testing each in turn.

Her large tow on each padded foot was meant to curl in and be able to touch all the others. It amused Meshada that his pets have many ways to grab and hold. She obediently tested each foot in turn, smiling happily as they worked correctly. She smiled up at Meshada who smiled down and patted her head. The fur was sprouting from her toes and up her legs as he had her put her arms behind her back. He ran his switch from her anus, up her stomach and chest. Her womanhood remained largely unchanged. Her clit grew into a respectable cock which was sheathed upward like that of a dog's. Special glands within the tip would secrete a natural lubricant. When finished these creatures didn't tend to think about lubrication when presented with an asshole. He found this the easiest solution, and his guests had thanked him for the adaptation, many models before.

Her breasts, once a perky B cup, firmed back and grew into healthy C cups. Under those she grew a set of B cups, and under those a set of As. She was permitted some time to play with her new breasts and cock. She took hold of the C cups and played with her nipples. Then she looked down and wiggled her body so her cock and breasts shook side to side. While she explored her changing body the fine white fur had continued to grow over her, down her arms and up to her collarbone.

Meshada tapped the table, a little harder this time. Not out of anger or impatience, but to cut through her distraction. He smiled at her and she assumed the next position. As she moved into this position she was surprised by the smooth glide of strong muscles flowing, and moving bones that no longer ached. She raised her ass as she went onto her toes. She divided her weight between her toes and her hands. This was a bit uncomfortable until he shortened her legs and lengthened her arms. With the new lengths her shoulders rose slightly above her rump.

This is when her hair started to move as though her head was covered in serpents. This was her least favorite part. The squirming tendrils always creeped her out. Her hair divided itself into two decorative braids down the back of her head and neck, the tips fusing into her shoulder blades. Meshada admired the braids as she dutifully moved her head from side to side to be sure they would offer no resistance no matter which way she moved.

Next were her hands. She sat on her haunches so he could take his time. Each one had to be done separately, and delicately. While they would not have the dexterity of human hands, they had to be durable enough to run and jump on, yet delicate and soft enough for use on one's most tender parts. To achieve this, he'd tinkered quite a bit with the design. The wrist was strengthened and reinforced. The thumb loosened so it could curl up safely, and nestle comfortably, tip up, beside the closed fist. The main body of the hand grew into a weight bearing paw. The fingers extended and thickened. Her nails receded, each replaced with a calloused pad. A similar pad grew on each finger length, allowing her to walk, run, and jump using her closed fist like a padded paw. The palms he left alone. She moved her fingers, testing their dexterity.

She knew what was next. Before Meshada's switch touched her collarbone she spoke. "Sir. Thank you... Master." He lowered his switch and patted her head. "You're welcome my pet." She looked her husband, no, her former husband in the eyes. He was losing the battle not to cry. "Psy, thank you. Thank you for loving me. Thank you for our life together. Thank you for this gift. I don't hurt anymore. I want you to mourn me. I want you to move on. I want you to be as happy as you've always wanted me to be."

Psyathac nodded his understanding. She turned back to Meshada, tears in her eyes. "I'm ready."

Meshada wiped away her tears with his thumb, and moved the switch up from her collarbone to the tip of her chin. Those were the last words she would ever speak. From now on she would only be able to make cute little mewls and squeaks, with the occasional growl of disapproval.

The stroke up her chin was followed by an elongating and narrowing of her mouth to form a muzzle. Her nose diminished but left slits for her to breathe. The shape was meant so that a cock could fit in comfortably, or the muzzle could be pushed into a wet pussy, with a little work. For that purpose, the nostrils had been positioned high on the muzzle out of the way of being blocked. Her growl would hardly be a warning as there wasn't much she could do without teeth. He had developed a special liquid diet to feed his pets, that would give them all the nutrients they needed. Her tongue was roughened, just slightly. He'd been adjusting the abrasiveness and thought he had it just about right. The tongue could come out a good four inches from the muzzle tip. As the fur grew around her face it stopped just covering the breathing slits, and left the muzzle bare.

Putting his switch back in his robes he settled in to tend to the final touches. He touched her ears and seemed to move them up on her head, ending them as pointed dog ears. She immediately starts twitching them around, until he puts a thumb on her eyebrow. Both ears rocket forward, at full attention. The fine white fur that has covered her face has not changed those eyebrows. Now he darkens them to a rich mahogany. He keeps the eyes almost human. Those stormy grey eyes fade to be replaced with a rich deep amber. They are the kind of eyes one could get lost in. He prided himself on being able to keep those eyes as vastly expressive as possible.

He stepped back admiring his work. She panted a bit with excitement, her breasts swaying with the motion. She lifted one paw and yipped, eager for the final culmination. He let out a short laugh in response.

"The gift bestowed today is freedom in captivity. Freedom from worry, from responsibility, from identity. We strip you today of your name. From now on you will be known simply as Girl. We grant you anonymity, and never-ending life filled with sensual pleasures. This will only end when you decide you are sated, and ready to yield to death's final embrace."

With that he rubbed her ear, and she pressed her head into his palm. Her fur grew longer on most of her body, sparing sensitive areas around her face, nipples crotch and anus. The fur gained the texture of cashmere, and a pleasing chestnut color. Her skin grew dark mahogany and a light marble pattern threaded it's way through her fur.

Last to change were her senses. Her nose could detect the sex hormones of the guests, both male, and female. Her eyes grew more sensitive to the light. He designed them so that the more light their eyes detected, the more arousal stirred in them. Otherwise, he had found it difficult to convince them there was a time meant for rest. Her skin grew more sensitive. She reveled in her new cashmere coat. Her ears could pick out more distinction between sounds. Her nethers grew more sensitive than the rest of her skin. She started to feel that itch in her pussy and her cock. She became wet, with a thin sheen of lubricant for both.

Meshada took his hand away and indicated that she should leave the table. She leapt with feline grace and experienced satisfaction as her arms/forelegs easily took the impact of her landing in the sand. She started to prance, lunge, run and jump, able to move, so happy to move. A woman called out "Here girl". She had to focus to figure out who it was. A dark-haired woman with moon milk skin who'd always been kind to her. She ran up to the woman and rubbed along her. Then another called, and then another, all down the couch. When she came to the man Psyathac she reared up and wrapped him in a hug. She licked the salty tears from his face 'till he pushed her away with a laugh "go have fun girl."

She yipped, and gave a little skip, as she was called down. When the last person had admired her new coat and remarked what a good girl she'd been, a young-looking man with long black and white braids got up and started walking towards the back of the area. This was a man who she didn't know very well, and his actions confused her. She sought comfort at Meshada's side.

As the young man passed Meshada, he received a deliberate surprise smack on the haunches from Meshada's switch. This elicited a yelp from the boy and a chuckle from the guests. With a playful smile Meshada announces. "Psyathac has requested a particular song for the shuffling, and my dear plaything Maggie here, has agreed to perform it for us today." He turned to address his new pet. "Girl, you stay out here. When he starts singing, follow what the others do."

As Meshada took a seat, the girl waited curiously as Maggie opened a panel in the glass wall at the back of the playground. She could tell that it was difficult for him to stay standing as the creatures from behind the wall swarmed him. After some hugs, ear scratches and a few leg humps, a firm "Heal" boomed across the sand. The creatures fell into line and followed Maggie back center stage. There they were. Six other identical creatures. She was eager to properly meet her new sisters, and the boy did not make her wait long.

As he opened up the song, she recognized it as one of her favorites. A folksy song about young lovers growing into their twilight years. It was one she had made Psy dance with her to so many times, much to his amused exacerbation. The way the boy sang it and swayed to the rhythm, made it sound richer and fuller than any time she'd heard it before. The urge to dance washed over her. One Pet took a flying leap, and the shuffling began.

Psyathac knew it was useless, but he couldn't help watching her. Through their leaping, and twirling, and weaving he tracked her far longer than he thought possible. Still, as intended, by the time the song was done he could not tell which was the one he'd brought with him. She had looked so happy through all of it. His people were natural empaths, so he knew without a shadow of a doubt she had been happy. All of them were so happy. As the song ended and Meshada's pets began to play in earnest, Psyathac decided for the first time to allow the pleasures of Meshada's realm ease his aching heart and troubled mind, for a while at least.