Day 1: Amazon, Scout, Exhibitionism. Fetishes include public sex, femdom, and coitus.
Day 2: Holstaurus, Monk, Breastfeeding/Handjob. Fetishes include fattening, lactation, and weakening.
Day 3: Dragon, Assassin, Weight Gain. Fetishes include Transformation, Corruption, Arrogance, Fingering, and Coitus.
Day 4: Dullahan, Wizard, Hair-Pulling. Hair-pulling, head-and-body disconnect, coitus, and fellatio.
Day 5: Ogre, Healer, Femdom. Coitus, Background Alping, Hypnosis, Forceful Handjobs, Muscle Girls.
Day 6: Manticore, Berserker, Soft and Cuddly. Tail-Sex, Maledom.
Day 7: Space-Elf, Rogue Merchant, Prostitution. Fellatio, Coitus, Bondage.
Day 8: Zombie Dragon, Dragonslayer, Mother/Daughter Play. SFW, no sex scenes.
Day 9: Living Armor, Wastelander, Electricity-Play. Wearing, frotteurism.
Day 10: Medusa, Rogue, Latex. BDSM, Spanking, Femdom, Maledom, Role Reversal, Latex Suits.
Day 1: Amazon, Scout, Exhibitionism. Fetishes include public sex, femdom, and coitus.
The drums thundered, and my eyes snapped open.
Normally, when someone wakes up, there is a period of uncertainty. Checking surroundings, searching for threats, making sure that nothing has been bitten off by predators in the night. There are a few blissful moments of forgetfulness before the stress and fear of the world returns to you. Before you remember what just happened. Before you fall apart.
Somehow- devil magic, primitive subharmonics, terrible memetic devices, it didn’t really matter- the drums bypassed all of that. I was pitched violently and suddenly from one nightmare neck-deep into another.
The stars had barely moved. I’d lain down for less than an hour. Less than an hour’s sleep in the canopies of these godawful trees. I landed ankle-deep in the thick, squelching mud. My boots were ragged from the three days chase, and my thighs shook with the impact. I was growing weaker. Every time I stopped to eat, every time I stopped to rest, every time I stopped to think, the drums began to beat, growing louder and louder. I had watched my male comrade fall into the mud and fled as the drums approached him. His scream had echoed through the woods. I oriented myself on the north star, figured out the direction towards my goal, and began trudging, my legs screaming.
Twelve days to the edge of this swamp. Twelve days to warn the military to go around. Twelve days to warn them about the nightmares in the heart of this place. And I was being run down like an animal.
The thought triggered another flash of memory. There were tribesmen who hunted down animals that way. They didn’t run. They just followed. Every time the animal lay down, they would approach, and keep the animal moving. Eventually, the animal would stop getting up.
My survival knife flickered out, pinning a reptile nearly a foot long. Not eating it would kill me faster than eating it would, so I dug in, continuing to walk as my legs burned. The taste of blood and raw meat was wretched, but I choked it down anyway. I didn’t have time to forage. I didn’t have time to relax. I had to keep moving.
The drums rose to a crescendo, and a figure dashed out of the jungle. She dashed from root to root with effortless ease, a featureless clay mask over her face. A flint knife flashed between her fingers, and she lunged at me.
I knew it was a she. Her clothes were ragged, torn, mere rags that barely covered her. Her breasts were hanging out from the remains of some strange jacket. My adrenaline-charged brain realized that her clothing was familiar somehow. Before I could consider that in greater detail, she lunged at me. Exhausted biceps screamed as I lifted the knife and caught hers on a composite hilt. Her breasts jiggled impossibly, super-model large, and her tail whipped around. I managed to pull away, and whirled out with the knife. A sharp line of red showed I’d scored a hit on her wrist.
The clay mask dropped to the ground, and a fierce, bizarrely white grin met me. No teeth problems. She looked like she had visited a reconstructive dentist earlier that week. My brain tried to make sense of that, and quailed under the effects of starvation. What I did know is that she turned and ran, and the drums softened.
Every time the sound of drums grew, one of them tried to attack me. It was as regular as clockwork, and it was the reason I couldn’t rest. It was the reason I couldn’t calm. It was slowly digging into my sanity. I was starting to enjoy the sound of drums.
An unknown period later, I collapsed into the mud. Sweat was soaking through my shirt. I panted hard, gasping for breath in hot air that felt like being smothered with a wet blanket. I pulled at the shirt desperately, trying to fan myself, but my muscles were too weak. I settled for tearing at it with the knife, cutting it away until it was mere rags around my stomach.
The drums grew louder. I didn’t care. I’d run so hard. I’d just fight until I died, while the drums pounded in my ears. How many of the strange, inhuman women could there be?
The answer, apparently, was dozens. Dozens of them slowly emerged from the jungle, revealing themselves. Clay masks hid their faces. Warpaint daubed on breasts and stomachs and thighs. Each one had a body like a wetdream and a nightmare. Bright horns rose out of their hair. Elongated ears. Bodies tanned to a crisp brown. One elegant wing emerging from their left shoulder, where it wouldn’t interfere with their bows. Elegant bladed tails decorated with bright red flowers. I glared up at them as they smirked down at me. I slowly drew the knife, but my arm was shaking.
The women slowly spread apart, to reveal Private Gorman. My partner, the man I had delved into hell with. The man I had left in hell. He was stripped to the waist, his chest exposed, cut and nicked. But he was alive. Absolutely, gloriously alive. His eyes widened. “Sergeant-“ he started. Then one of the amazons placed one of those flint knives at his throat.
I surged to my feet, and the brown-skinned women drew in slightly, grabbing their own knives. My muscles and bones ached, but they didn’t shake. “Hands off.” My voice came out cracked, little more than a scratchy croak. The women exchanged amused looks. I lunged, and nearly cut the wing off of one before she backed off in alarm, and spoke again. This time, my voice was stronger, fiercer, rage powering me through the pain. “MINE!”
The women surged in, pressing. My hair was plastered to my skin by sweat. My bones were sore. Every joint ached. I felt feverish and light-headed, and heavy as iron. None of that mattered. What mattered was that they were in my way. What mattered is they were taking what was mine.
I slashed out at one of them when she came too close. A line of red appeared across her perfectly toned stomach, glittered in the wan light falling from the moon as she dodged backwards. I kept towards my subordinate. My heart was pounding, my blood was rushing in my ears. My skin burned. My eyes darted. All of the weariness seemed to wash away in a flood of adrenaline. I reached out and drove an elbow into one of the women as they tried to grab me, sending her to the ground, heaving for air that she couldn’t breathe in.
Suddenly, the tide of women backed away. The only woman remaining was the one carrying the flint knife, holding it at Gorman’s throat. I snarled at her, my teeth bared, lips curling back. She slowly lifted her hand away, and stepped back. I rushed forward, standing over Gorman. I rested one hand on his shoulder, and closed my eyes. I waited for the exhaustion to hit. To fall. To get both of us killed.
My skin was hot, tingling as though it had been burned. But I wasn’t getting tired. As my chest rose and fall, I felt the opposite. I felt better than I ever had. My whole body ached pleasurably, but I felt like I could run a marathon. I opened my eyes, and noticed the eyes.
Every one of the women had removed their masks. Eyes of all colors, from greens and blues and browns to more exotic colors. And every eye was fixed hungrily on me. Coveting the man in front of me. The man whose strong chest and whose firm muscles meant that he’d be such a good mate-
I pressed my hands to the side of my head, and groaned. The eyes were on me from all sides. Hungry, staring eyes, devouring me. Burning me. Their expressions cut me deeper than the knives had. I looked up again, breathing hard. The rags that they wore were familiar. I peered at them. Camouflage fatigues. T-shirts that tourists might wear. Ragged remains of civilization, on women who had thrown civilization away. I let out a soft little moan.
The pressure on my temples grew unbearable, and then orgasmic. The horns pushed their way out, my skin browning as though I was being tanned by their hungry gazes. Horns slowly pushed their way out through my hair, as my back began to itch ferociously. A single wing slowly pushed out, flaring out and exposing itself.
My teeth felt cleaner than they had ever. My whole body arched, aching, my breasts swelling under their gaze. I could feel the feral femininity flowing into me, their desire pouring into me.
My clothes tore further, leaving me in only the barest rags of my uniform, crusted with mud. I let out a soft sigh as the drumming hammered in my heart, driving me. The heat burned in the pit of my stomach. The desire. The eager need.
I looked down at Private Gorman. He looked up at me, fear in his eyes. I reached up, squeezing my own breasts, and stared at him. The fear was replaced with something else. The women wanted a sacrifice, it was true. But not blood.
I pounced on him like a jungle cat. His bound hands were trapped beneath him as I bucked on his hips, my thighs clenching and moving to slip his pants down, exposing his manhood. My mouth was open in an expression of ecstasy, eyes closed, from the sheer exhibitionist pleasure of mating in the open. The sensation of flesh pressed against flesh was only compounded by the dozens of eyes on me. I looked around, waiting to see if any of them would challenge me, try to claim my right to mate with the man. None were so foolish.
Private Gorman opened his mouth to speak. I silenced him with a ferocious kiss. My saliva had changed with the rest of my body, becoming honey-thick and clover-sweet. A long, slow kiss silenced him, keeping him from challenging my claim on him. Maybe he could have flipped me on my back, if he were in perfect shape. But as it stood, my advantage was so great as to be insurmountable. All the better. As his pants slipped down around his knees, his manhood slapped against my bare crotch, and a spasm of pleasure was my reward.
I wasted no time in mounting him, in bringing him to climax, in joining him in the throes of ecstasy. This wasn’t slow, relaxed, the sex of two lovers basking in lazy hours of the night. It was a desperate thing, pushed by the desire to reaffirm that we were both alive. Each time I brought him to climax, my knees locked around him. As his voice rose, I arched my back, throwing my hair back in a wild spray. His seed poured into me, burning like molten rock inside, and forcing an ecstatic scream out of my lungs. I tensed my fingers against his shoulders, feeling the warmth tingling inside of my womb. The awareness of my own fertility. The strange, prickling sensation of becoming pregnant. I could feel it as clearly as if I were watching it, and the smile that spread across my face was fierce and feral with pleasure.
I slowly stood up, the strong muscles clamping tight to ensure that not one drop of his seed would drip out of me. One of the Amazons strode forward, and offered me a clay mask. I lifted it over my face, the strap hanging on the back of my head, obscuring my expression and the fierce joy there. Then I looked down at Gorman. He had served his purpose. Given me seed for another generation. He wasn’t of use to the Amazons, now.
I knelt down, and gently lifted him to his feet, one of his arms over my shoulder. One of the other Amazons approached me, hissing angry not-words. I casually back-handed her, shattering her clay mask with a single blow, and she dropped back, stunned. I gave a brief look around the clearing, waiting to see if any of the others would try anything. They were quiet.
“What’s happening, Sergeant?” Gorman slurred, as much from exhaustion and wounds as the marathon round of sex. “You got a plan, right? We’re going to get home, aren’t we?”
I smiled under the clay mask. “We are home.” And then I began gently leading him, following the rest of the Amazons deeper into the jungle.
Day 2: Holstaurus, Monk, Breastfeeding/Handjob. Fetishes include fattening, lactation, and weakening.
“Bastard desert. Bastard bandits. Bastard bloody gods.”
I frowned sharply at my traveling companion. “It’s not the gods fault that we are in this situation. It is by their grace that we have survived this long.” I held up a placating hand as the young man opened his mouth to complain. A merchant, he had offered me the protection of his caravan as we traveled across the badlands to deliver the bundle now in his arms. It was proving a costly business decision. “I know that this is a brutal test of faith. But they so often are. And at least we shall not die of dehydration.”
He grumbled, as I waved a hand. The water skin at my side inflated with cold, clean water. A blessing from the gods, the things that we needed in this brutal situation. One of the things, at any rate.
“We’re god-knows-how-far from the nearest oasis that hasn’t been taken over by bandits. We have no food, just a bunch of medicinal herbs that would poison us at best if we tried to eat them. The water helps, but it just means our deaths are going to be all the slower.” He frowned, and slowly shook his head. “I’m sorry, Sister Mercy. I’m just having a great deal of difficulty seeing how we will survive all of this.”
The two of us were stripped to the waist. His own slender frame was already showing signs of starvation, his ribs sticking out against his sides. I had spent the last three days respiring energy out of the atmosphere. It was enough to keep me from starving, but the long-term effects could be unfortunate, to say the least. Already, my bust had gained at least a cup size. Soft, jiggling flesh bounced and twirled. Once I began respiring, I couldn’t stop without a great deal of difficulty, and it would be a dangerously long time before I could begin again. So instead, I was packing on calories in the form of fat, turning my hardened, toned body soft.
This alone would not be so frustrating. What made me angry, what made me feel a private little rage at the gods and the essential nature of the world, was that I could not make food for the merchant. I was forced to watch as he grew thinner, forced to be helpless as his own body cannibalized precious stores of fat and muscle to keep running for a bit longer.
“I’m sorry I was so harsh with you at the start of this trip.”
The words were soft, ringing out into the empty air. The great Badlands were not like the Sand Sea far to the southwest. They were dry, but stone. Vast plains of gravel and mountains and passes that stretched out beyond the horizon. We had oriented on the mountain ahead of us, but I knew it had to be at least five days travel from here. My companion would lose his strength before then. “What did you say?” I asked him, frowning.
“I’m sorry. I gave you a real hard time. I questioned your faith. Mocked your beliefs. But you saved me when those bandits attacked. My bones’d be bleaching in the sun if it hadn’t been for you. I’d be dead and dry if not for that.”
“The path we follow is not always easy. Many times we follow the path because it is not easy.” I wasn’t sure exactly what I was saying. My loose silk top was piled around my head, wrapped around my hair, keeping the scorching heat off of my brain. My soft saffron skin was already darkening under the sunlight. My mastery of my own chi was the only thing keeping my skin from being burnt to bloody ruins, but even that had its consequence. The sun was more energy, more calories, more softness turning me from a weapon of war into-
“Promise me you’ll deliver these.”
There was a soft thump. I turned, my heart racing. The merchant lay on the scorching stone, unmoving. I rushed forward, and rested my hands on him. The healing energy flowed out of me, washing into him, turning his sun-burnt red skin soft and cream-colored again. But I couldn’t feed him. I couldn’t provide him with calories that weren’t there to be given. I knelt in front of him for a few minutes, tears running down my cheeks. But he was still alive.
I carefully pulled down the trousers I wore, tearing them to strips. The only clothing I had now was a thin pair of panties, barely preserving my modesty. I used some of the fabric to tie his legs around my waist, some to tie his arms around my shoulder. The rest went over his back, shielding him. With a great effort, I forced myself into a standing position, and began to walk.
He was not heavy, but it was still enough to be exhausting. Every few minutes, I forced myself to drink water, and forced the same on him, my lips pressing to his, feeding him like a mother bird. I walked until dusk settled, and the temperature dropped so quickly it threatened to give me frostbite. I curled up in a crevasse where the stone insulated us, and desperately tried to provide enough heat to protect his weakened body.
The second day, I was aware of the continuing changes. At the beginning of this trip, I had been lean as a jungle cat. Predatory, sharp, my body honed, my muscles firm as teak to the touch. After the better part of a week of taking every stray erg of energy the universe was throwing my way, my body had developed a healthy cushioning of fat. I was certainly not obese, but the change made me look soft, and cuddly.
As far as I was concerned, that was damned close to unacceptable. But there was, at least, no one around to see me. My only companion was a man dying of starvation.
It was one of the strange cruelties of the gods and of chi. Food could not be created wholesale. I might pray for manna to rain from the skies, but chances were not good. There was no way for me to feed him. I continued walking, feeling the chafing of my breasts against my bare skin, the aching of my back under the weight. No way to create food. No way…
I paused momentarily in the shadow of a great precarious pillar of stone. It stood, seemingly defying gravity, on a base barely as wide around as my waist, a natural obelisk. I stared down at my own breasts. Of course, there were creatures that could defy those laws. Demons, monsters. But my own mastery of chi could, conceivably, allow me to manage it. Using my own body as a filter, charging it with the energy of the environment, and passing that on to the merchant. I could feed him. Save him.
The downside was that it would transform my body. Taking that much chi in, deliberately changing myself? Curses could be undone. But corrupting myself, even for the sake of another, that would be impossible to take back. I would render myself a corrupted mockery of my order. A ridiculous sexualized toy, unable to fight.
I took a deep breath, inhaling the chi that filled the desert. My skin tingled as I drank in the sun and the air and the miniscule amount of water I could condense out of the desert atmosphere. And I began to walk again, feeling the changes slowly beginning to take root in my body.
Something that they had never mentioned in the school where I had honed my body: corruption felt good. As the chi flowed through me, my nerves seemed to sing and dance, the changes leaving them raw and wild. Perhaps if it had just been me, the experience would be unbearable. But with the man pressed against my back, his hands resting on my breasts, his legs pressed against mine, there was a kind of ecstasy that came with the sensitivity. From time to time, he would rouse, grumble momentarily, his hands squeezing and stroking at my chest, and it felt better than the most strenuous workout, the most ferocious battle.
After three or four hours, we stopped in the shade. I had thought that I was sweating, but as I sat down, I realized that a thin layer of dribbling milk had run down my chest. Twin streams of shining milk, making my breasts glow pleasantly in the reflected sunlight. I let out a little sob of relief.
The merchant was painfully thin in my arms. As I shifted him, balancing him on the soft cushions of my thighs, I felt a moment of panic. If it were too late, if I had changed myself for nothing…
Then, his lips found my nipple. With the automatic reflexes of a child, he began suckling at me.
My body ached with pain. The muscular fatigue of walking constantly, the focused agony of nerves charged with chi, the tingling of the corruption I was inflicting on myself, all of these things had been gnawing at the back of my mind for the last few days. I held back those sensations through willpower and discipline, but I was constantly aware of them. They did not disable me, but they niggled at me, working away at my will. Now, they vanished, washed away in a tide of pleasure. Being suckled from was more soothing than the deepest meditation. More pleasurable than the hardest exercise. More purifying than the most resonant mantra.
I wasn’t sure, exactly, when I wrapped my hand around his manhood. The merchant’s arms were wrapped around my torso, pressing his face gently against my nipple. He was still weak, but the milk seemed to give him some strength that he needed. My hand rested on his cock, feeling the weight of it, the shape, the heat pulsing against my fingers. I couldn’t describe why I wanted to touch it. Perhaps I had done something wrong while corrupting my body. Perhaps I just decided that if one of the order’s rules were being given up, all of them might as well. But it felt almost as good to stroke his shaft to full mast as to feed his hunger.
I joined the order in order to help people. To give of myself to others. This was just another part of it. I let him drink his fill from me, reducing the painful burden of my milk-stuffed breasts, and took pleasure from feeling his manhood throb with excitement.
After a long time, he released my breasts, sighing with satisfaction, and I began to move again. As I walked, I could feel the changes continuing. My skin was growing darker, taking on the rich black color of the cattle of my home. My skull ached slightly beneath the wrap. I could even feel a tail slowly swishing across the backs of my legs. Transforming myself into a beast of burden and milk. It was a shameful fate for Sister Mercy of the Ironfist school, but not as shameful as allowing the merchant to die when I could do something. I focused instead on the sensation of milk filling my breasts. The glands within worked overtime, pumping me full again. When I could take no more, I settled down again. This time I lay him on top of my body, my over-plush thighs wrapped around his manhood, letting him drink.
Six days and nights like this. Heat baking my brains into senseless dullness. Feeding and playing with his manhood making my libido rage with need. The constant influx of energy and hormones ravaged my body, making me soft and squishy. By the time I reached the edge of the small oasis village, I couldn’t stand straight. I slumped to the ground, comically feminine body flopped down, limbs spread in an ungainly splay, the merchant on my back.
I woke up, who-knows-how-long later, to find myself in a soft bed. My body was plush and feminine, though at some point in my unconsciousness I must have stopped feeding on the ambient energy, for I was not too heavy to even stand up. I frowned down softly at my own skin, turned a rich ebony color. My hips and breasts were round and soft, but not grotesque. I must have been milked constantly. I looked up, and saw the merchant sleeping next to me, and my heart felt a little warm.
When he woke up, I was working my way through a kata. My balance was shot terribly, sending me wobbling and jiggling all over the place, a state of affairs which clearly aroused him. I balance on one foot, arms outstretched, remembering the motions. He gave me a hungry look, and my reaction was not anger, or disgust, as it might once have been. Instead, I felt a strange little prey tingle, fear mingled with excitement, all stemming from the hunger he showed. That would take a while to get used to, being an object of desire and enjoying it. But it was hardly the worst thing that could have happened.
“You alright, Sister Mercy?” he asked, managing to hide the hunger in his expression as I kept moving, my horns tracing delicate patterns in the air. “I thought I’d try to keep going, to get these herbs to that city. I couldn’t ask you to do more than you have-“
“I’ll come,” I said, perhaps just a bit too quickly. Had I turned myself into a monster, some submissive creature that needed the approval of a human male, that needed other things from him? The thought was frightening in theory, but it didn’t matter much, now. My tail flicked, and I stepped closer to him. He dragged his nails through my dark hair, and I let out a soft little sigh of pleasure, eyes closing as I leaned into his strokes. Perhaps it didn’t matter whether I was a monster or not. It didn’t matter whether I was an amazon or a squishy soft toy. I felt happy. I was helping and giving.
As he squeezed one of my breasts, I let out a long, happy moo.
Day 3: Dragon, Assassin, Weight Gain. Fetishes include Transformation, Corruption, Arrogance, Fingering, and Coitus.
In my life, I have triggered a modest number of traps. It’s part of being an assassin. A good assassin learns to escape from the effects of a trap unharmed. A great assassin learns to avoid setting off the trap in the first place. Most of the time, I am a great assassin. But sorcerors do not play fair.
The first sign of the trap was a strange, greasy feeling that filled the air. Like the air just before a lightning strike. It gathered as I pulled myself through a window, and I lunged for the nearest solid object, throwing myself into a large cupboard to try to ground out the magical charge. The next sign of the trap was a crack-snap like a dead branch breaking in a winter storm, sharp and echoing off the walls. I held my breath, trying to study myself. Paying close attention to my body, I began to work each joint.
I knew I looked good. Perhaps only four and a half feet tall, my body was nonetheless as tight and coiled as a steel spring. Every joint flexed in the tight leather, no clicks or extraneous sounds making themselves known. I smirked to myself. Of course, no trap would be able to make me a less lethal killing machine, but I couldn’t take that for granted. I studied my own memories. I was here to kill the sorceror who owned this tower. He had annoyed the wrong noble, and the noble had deep pockets. Sorcerors could be dangerous, but they succumbed as quickly as anyone else to a sharp knife in the kidneys.
I crept out of the tight cupboard, balancing myself on the balls of my feet, my legs tensed, the knife in my hand. I ran a finger down along the seam of my dark gray leather coat, eying my surroundings warily. That sorceror had thought he could simply lay a trap and be rid of me. I’d show him. I’d rip his heart out for that. When I heard the rattle of glassware, a grin spread across my lips. Alchemy, no doubt. I lunged towards the door, kicked it open with one steel-shod boot, and brandished the knife. “Lotric the Lewd! Your death has come!”
The room was a sizeable dining room. Lotric himself stood at the head of a large table. He was easy on the eyes, tall and young, dark hair and bright red eyes giving me an amused little flutter in my stomach. The kind of man I liked to play with, the kind of man I liked to have at my mercy. The table was piled high with large platters. Fruit, meat, deserts, they all rose in piles, some fresh and steaming from the oven. I reached over, casually grabbing a turkey leg, and bit into it hungrily, chewing and swallowing. It was good food- I’d give him a quick death for showing me that level of respect. For his part, Lotric did indeed look intimidated. “Lady Mae? I did not think I warranted your attentions.”
I preened, tossing the stripped bone back onto the platter and grabbing a ripe, juicy fruit. After taking a large bite of it, I smirked at him, juice streaming down my chin. “Well, it’s good you know my name. You are indeed at my mercy.” I licked my fingers clean, smacking my lips loudly. “How do you wish to die? A knife, poison, perhaps strangulation?”
“I know I could not hope to stop you, Lady Mae. Tell me, you came in through the bedroom window, didn’t you? If the Seal of Seven Sins could not stop you, surely nothing I could conjure on the fly would.”
“That little curse? I barely felt it.”
“Of course, of course.” He smiled. “One so noble as you- And so obviously powerful- would be immune to any corrupting influence. Might I say your horns look gorgeous tonight?”
I ran my fingers through my hair. The unfamiliar sensation of hard horn under my fingers gave me a moment’s pause, but I rallied quickly. They were unusual, but striking, and felt as natural as my own skin. “Of course I look gorgeous. Do tell me you have more of a point than that.”
“Well, I obviously cannot defeat you, and I could not threaten you. But perhaps I can make you a better offer?”
“You DARE suggest I would be susceptible to a bribe?!” I asked, flipping one of the platters. My clothing was feeling rather much too tight, pressing against my skin. I adjusted the jacket, and let out a sigh of relief. The spare bra I wore to contain my own painfully mediocre bust was feeling a bit strained, and the fabric bit deep into my skin. That was interesting, but not important.
“No! Of course not.” He smiled, holding out a ring with a glittering diamond on it. “I merely believe that you are my better; it is only right that I display that.” I greedily snatched the ring, and slid it onto my pinky. I held it up to the candle flame, and smiled. A gorgeous rainbow filled the air, and entranced me for a moment. Just perfect for someone of my obvious class. “Do you like it, my lady Mae?”
“It amuses me, certainly.” I slowly shrugged off my shoes. They were growing much too tight, unpleasantly so. I did the same with my long gloves, and accepted four delicate bangles wrought of silver and studded with small streaks of opal. They fit easily around my ankles and wrists, glittering pleasurably. The opulence of them brought another smirk to my face. “You are certainly prone to giving gifts, sorceror. I must wonder what you desire in return? Obviously your life would be too expensive.”
“Oh, no, lady Mae.” He smiled. “Your scales dance so prettily in the candle light, might I say. Is the food to your liking?” He gently slid a chair out for me, a throne of gold and plush satin. I flopped into it heavily, while he sat in the wooden stool beside it. I lifted one leg over the side of the throne, beginning to squirm and wiggle my way out of the tight leather pants. I could see the way Lotric’s eyes settled on my groin, and smiled.
“Oooh, you wish to have one ride with me?” I smirked, brushing a hand through my hair. “I suppose that I could allow you one tumble in the hay for your last wish. Who knows, perhaps if you are so blessed as to plant your seed in me, I might carry the child for you. If I feel like it.”
He smiled. “Surely, there could be no greater honor. But it would be far too much to ask you to take the lead like that.” He stepped up, and removed my jacket, exposing my breasts. I was rather more buxom than usual, though no less deadly, soft layers of fat giving me a softer, more goddess-like appearance. I smirked with satisfaction at his submissive actions. “But such a gift would be worth all that I have; And of course, all that I have is yours.” His hand slid down, and rested on my bare belly, just a little bit above my groin. I spread my legs a little bit further, gently pushing my hips up against his hand.
“Hmmm. Yes, I think that seems acceptable. You may loose your seed in my body, and have a jolly time with me. In exchange, I will not kill you, for now. You seem to be a worthy servant. Perhaps you would be better off used as a slave, hmmm?” I sneered at him. “What do you say, exchanging your freedom for a single chance to lay with me? Don’t answer. We both already know you can’t refuse, caught in my wiles as you are.”
“I confess, you are right.” His palm pressed down between my thighs. I closed my eyes and let out a long, feral moan, pleasure mixing with the satisfaction of conquest. I had overwhelmed the fool so thoroughly, I didn’t even have to do the work of seducing and ravishing him. He was providing me with pleasure, now, as effectively as any clockwork toy. His skilled, warm fingers slowly dipped up and down the lips of my womanhood, teasing me, brushing against the sensitive little pearl, and I took no shame in ecstasy. I let out roar after ear-splitting roar of pleasure, my tail coiling, my wings flapping. The pleasure was exquisite, and I intended to take full advantage.
As I grabbed another piece of fruit, he shifted his hand, sliding a finger inside of me, pumping it smoothly back and forth. I rolled up my eyes, sighing happily as the digit worked in and out, skillfully bringing me to one shuddering orgasm after another. Abruptly, I grew bored. “Enough!” My tail whipped out, wrapping around his waist, tugging at him. Of course, I did not tug hard enough to hurt him, but he shifted his hips forward nonetheless, his manhood pressing against me. “Enough foreplay! I demand that you mate with me!”
No sooner had I said it, than he waved a hand. A wave of ice ran down my back as though I’d fallen in a snow drift. I gasped, ready to berate him, when he embraced me. The mix of heat and cold became intensely pleasurable, the heat and press of his body all the more satisfying for feeling the cold nipping at my heels and horns. I swung my wings together around him, pulling him even closer. His manhood pulsed like a pillar of heat inside of me, pressing against my flesh and making his desire obvious. He wanted me so badly I could see the pain in his expression. I was wrathful, proud perhaps. But nobody could accuse me of being cruel. I locked my ankles around his waist. “Don’t hold back, knave! Pour your seed into me!”
He let out a groan, his hips thrusting against me, trying to resist. A few quick clenches of my volcano-hot cunt, and his resistance let out. Thick splatters of seed poured up inside of me, painting the walls of my womb in stripes of heat. I could feel each one, against my sex-starved cunt. I had never been with a man before. Not because I had been shy and terrified of what they could do to me, of course. I had simply been too great for them to approach.
As the man lay against me, my breathing slowly returned to normal. “I think I shall be merciful, Lotric. You shall be my manservant. I shall keep you and allow you to continue servicing me as such, in exchange for your life.”
“Thank you, my lady.”
—
I sat in the throne. Technically, Lotric sat in the throne and I sat upon him, but that wasn’t important. It was my throne, and I bounced up and down his lap, grinding my cunt against his manhood. The nobles of the city were watching with tense expressions. As well they should, seeing my grandeur displayed before them. I ran a clawed hand through my hair, smirking over my shoulder at them. Lotric smiled indulgently. I had given him the right to represent me at this meeting. That was the mark of a good leader: Delegating.
“Gentlemen. As you can see, your assassin is no longer a factor.” Mutters spread through the room. We’d agreed to this. The less work I had to do appearing fearsome and frightening, the happier I was. I was quite content simply grinding my hips down on his lap. “The seal of seven sins has made her quite a loyal servant. It seems that she was not nearly as motivated by money as you believed.” I nibbled on his collar bone slowly, eyes closed, enjoying the pleasurable sensation of ignoring what nobles thought of me.
The delicate choker around my throat set off my appearance perfectly. Twin silver bangles on each limb jingled and rung softly. My fingers clinked with rings, gemstones glittering on them. I ignored the speeches and threats and boring politics, electing instead to slowly press my plush body against my loyal manservant.
I had everything I wanted, right here.
Day 4: Dullahan, Wizard, Hair-Pulling. Hair-pulling, head-and-body disconnect, coitus, and fellatio.
“Watch it!”
I squawked, taking a quick half-step back as a sickle-shaped blade sliced through the air and buried itself in the opposite wall. Damien growled at me as Philo steadied my shoulder. The tall, blonde-haired priest gave me a concerned look, mace hanging from his wrist casually, messy blonde hair almost obscuring his eyes. “Are you hurt?” A slight halo surrounded his head, the sign of his celestial heritage. I shook my head quickly, and he gave me a warm smile. “Good. But we must be careful. Despite its age, this place’s defenses seem to be in good shape.”
He released me, not noticing the expression of longing on my face. Unfortunately, Silvia did. The outer priestess took a few steps, coming level with me as Damien and Philo took the lead. She stood in her perpetually moist, dripping robes, too-large eyes staring appreciatively at Philo’s back. “Subtle, Miff,” she murmured. ”Getting his attention by nearly walking into a trap like that.”
My face flushed and my hair turned a bright crimson. The only real sign of my own nonhuman heritage, and an obvious sign at that. My hair hung down to my waist, and refused to be tamed. I had once spent a week cutting it down to the scalp every day. And every day, it had all grown out to an embarrassing degree once again. Every emotion I felt was mirrored in the hair, shining like a gigantic rainbow fuck-you to my emotional stability. It made me an open book. “I wasn’t trying to,” I said, but my hair was already turning the pale saffron yellow of deceit.
“Come on. It’s obvious. Why don’t you tell him? A man like that can have all the wisdom in the world, but…” She gave a quirk of her lips, smiling, and the nictitating membranes flashed out across her eyes in that strange little half-blink she used when she was being rude. “He’s a bit dense.”
“That’s not very nice to say,” I said, a little sharper than I had intended. “He is kind, and strong, and-“
“Has a great ass?”
“Has a good heart. That he is not as… strictly intelligent as me does not change the fact that-“
“You want to jump his bon-mmmph!”
My hand clamped over her mouth, as I shot the two men a panicked look. They were about ten meters ahead, inspecting a tile. “What if they hear you?!”
“Mrph.”
“What?”
Silvia grabbed my shoulders and pulled me down, just as a large circular ring of silver swooped down from the ceiling and contracted rapidly at the point where my neck had been not a full second ago. “Duck.”
“This place is a goddamn nightmare.” I sniffed, brushing my nose a bit, my hair turning a deep, sad blue. “Can’t believe we had to take this job.” I took a deep breath, trying to regain my bearings. Being over-emotional was dangerous for a mage of any kind. The wrong emotions, the wrong feelings, they could make you lose focus. Change you, turn you into something else. I knew there were more than a few mages who had become transformed, losing their humanity because they couldn’t keep it together. At best it was a humiliating transformation into something embarrassing. At worst…
“Girls! Looks like there’s a split in the corridor!” said Philo, smiling so brightly that it .
“We should split up,” rasped Damien. The necromancer slowly rubbed his palms together. “Keep in contact with magic. If we reach a dead end, go back the way we came. Silvia, I need your precognition. Miff, you go with Philo. If you get cut up, he can heal you.”
“Yes, that sounds like a good idea.” Silvia gave me a firm push from behind, sending me stumbling into Philo’s arms.
Hair aside, I was not attractive. Too tall and too skinny, I looked awkward and gawky, only a few inches shorter than Philo, and thin enough that one of his arms would have fit entirely around me. He caught me easily, and gave me a warm smile, winking. “I don’t mind. You’re the best company of the three.”
I didn’t say a word, but Silvia giggled and Damien chuckled darkly as my hair turned a fiery red.
“Well, I suppose that- Watch there, monofilament.” Philo held up a torch, and a tiny line of fire appeared at neck level. The fire spread quickly, devouring the trap. Thinner than spider-silk, and capable of killing someone who was in a hurry with momentum alone. The two of us kept walking as the fire died out “But yes. I suppose that I could see myself in a romantic relationship with Silvia. She is certainly intriguing, and an intelligent person. It’s not as though I have anyone waiting for me at home.” Philo chuckled, and I nervously brushed my hair out of my eyes. “But why do you ask? I know she thinks very little of me.”
“She’s a bit unfair,” I said softly.
“No, no. It’s true. We each have our talents, and we each have the things we need. It is not her fault, or mine, that we’re not compatible. Besides, attractive though she is, she’s not the type I like most. I like a woman who’s colorful. Honest about her feelings. Unafraid to express herself.” My heart fell, a little sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. All of that certainly ruled me out. “How about you? Are you looking for a relationship?” he asked, an expression of good-natured curiosity on his face.
I was so glad he was keeping his eyes on the ground ahead. “I…” I took a deep breath. “I want…” You. I want you! It was so simple, if I just told him, I would-
I would ruin it all. I’d destroy the trust the party had built up. I would turn him off. He’d laugh at me. It was better that I keep it all inside. Even though it made my head feel light. Even though it made my chest feel like it would explode. I closed my eyes tightly, and felt like crying. “Hell, Miff!”
There was a whisper like a knife drawn through silk, and something very heavy hit me. I opened my eyes quickly. I was on my back, on the floor, rough stone pressing against my back. Above I could see the massive steel blade slowly withdrawing into a nearly-invisible line in the wall.
Philo was on top of me. His strong hands on my shoulders, his weight pressing down on me. His handsome face so close to mine I could feel his breath puffing in and out. I could feel his codpiece pressed against my groin through the skinny robes I wore. I could feel his body pressed so tightly against mine that my hair turned red as the setting sun. I had never had a more humiliating moment. Philo frowned, his eyes drifting down. “Miff, did you just piss yourself?”
I wish I had just pissed myself. That would be slightly less embarrassing than being soaking wet with arousal at a bit of incidental physical contact. I felt my cheeks burn, and then my head fell off.
“Miff!” With an agonized expression, Philo grabbed my head, yanking my hair a little bit. A little moan escaped through my throat, somehow voiced despite my lack of lungs at the moment. He pulled my head into place, and his hands glowed. He let go with the greatest of care, as though he expected me to fall apart. Which I did, my head rolling off onto the floor again. “I can’t- I- Oh god, there’s blood-“ He frowned. “Miff, why is there no blood-“
“Oh, god,” I murmured, realizing what was happening. “Oh, this is so fucking embarrassing.” I groaned softly. “Help me up, would you?” He stood up, pulling my body into an upright position. I could… FEEL the sensations of my body, the touch of his hands, the warmth flowing between my thighs. But as my body clung to his chest, pushing that soaking crotch against his codpiece lightly, I was also painfully aware that I couldn’t control it. “I meant my head.”
He frowned, and crouched down. One hand gently wrapped in my hair, the other scooping under my neck. I let out a little whimper as he pulled, but it wasn’t because the sensation of having that long hair pulled was painful. He frowned at the cascades of bright purple washing through my hair, and raised an eyebrow. I didn’t respond. He did not need to know that it meant my body was currently craving sex, begging for it. “Miff, what-“
“My grandmother was a Dullahan. That’s where I get my fairy blood. And I just…” I let out a little sob. “I couldn’t hold it together!” I wailed out, streams of tears running down my cheeks. A soft, kind expression appeared on Philo’s lips, and he began to stroke my hair, holding my face against his chest. I closed my eyes, and let him hold me for a long few seconds. Then, I became aware of a growing heat between my legs, just as Philo cleared his throat.
“Miff, I don’t mean to complain, but-“
My eyes snapped open. My body was on its knees. Arms thrown around Philo’s waist, it was clinging to him desperately, robes hiked up, panties and bra tugged aside to expose my bare flesh. It was currently engaged in furiously humping Philo’s shin, hips pumping back and forth with desperate need as it pawed at his belt. Without being able to see it directly, my body was clumsy in its movements, but it made up for it with sheer desire. “Oh god, oh god, I can’t control myself, please, don’t hate m-“
He kissed me firmly on the lips, silencing me with the single gentle movement. As he did, the movements of my body became languid, relaxed. I could feel everything it felt, but when I tried to move, it was unresponsive. I wasn’t in control of my own body. The thought was terrifying, but with Philo’s lips against mine, I was having trouble focusing on it. As the kiss broke, he smiled gently. “Miff. If you wanted me to fuck you, you can always just tell me.” His free hand went down, and grabbed my body’s ass, provoking a little jump from it, and a little involuntary squeak from me. “You’re much more my type.”
I tried to say something, to explain, to look like less of a silly slut. I was interrupted by the hand slid between my thighs, fondling and fingering me gently. My expression melted into a haze as my body began to undo Philo’s pants, pushing him gently towards the ground. I felt slightly dizzy as he lay down, his hands resting on my ears, shifting me so my head lay against his chest, staring down at his hips. The sight of my own body, skinny, awkward, yet honest, was stunning. What was somewhat more stunning was watching Philo’s reaction. His manhood swelling, thick, I could see it easily as his codpiece slid off, exposing his erection. I took a deep breath, but before I could brace myself, my body had straddled that shaft, and taken it balls-deep. I let out a squeal as my virginity was taken, a shudder running up my body before it began moving again.
Philo, for his part, seemed perfectly happy to let my body take the initiative. His attention was focused on me, planting soft kisses on the back of my head, stroking my hair, teasing my ears gently. My long, delicate, elfin ears. I let out a soft moan, trying to close my eyes to hold away the visions of my body’s own lewd behavior. The sound of wet squishing and the waves of pleasure only became more intense as I did so, the scent of my own arousal rich and sticky in the air, making my hair twirl between purple and red, watching as my body grew more strident by the second.
After a surprisingly short time, my body’s back arched, and went stiff. It slumped backwards, the shaft popping out. I moaned heatedly, the orgasm leaving my head hazy, which was why it came as a surprise when my head was pushed forward, and I found myself suddenly held with the thick shaft against my face. “P-Philo…?” I asked, voice still weak and shuddering from the orgasm.
“Well, your body seems to be a little bit overwhelmed. Lots of spirit, but not much stamina. I like that kind of girl, though.” His smile grew just a bit wider, a hint of predatory interest in his eyes. “So you won’t mind finishing the job, will you?”
His tone of voice was kind, but his firm grip made it very clear that he wasn’t going to let me go without satisfying him. I swallowed slowly, wondering what I had gotten myself into, just as the tip plunged between my lips.
Day 5: Ogre, Healer, Femdom. Coitus, Background Alping, Hypnosis, Forceful Handjobs, Muscle Girls.
“God damn it, healslut! Could you keep focused for five fucking seconds?! That boss nearly put me into critical condition!”
I rolled my eyes at Karkov as Peni cringed. The delicate young woman bowed her head, red hair hanging over soft, smooth, pale skin. Her skin was flawless as only a white mage could manage, and largely on display. The white and red robe she typically wore had seen the brunt of the assault from a number of monstrous minions of the boss we’d just defeated. The outfit was barely covering her. The undersides of her breasts were visible, where a swipe of claws had torn away her bra. A foot or two below that, a little fine, well-shaved pubic hair was visible at the top of her mound, much of the midriff of the robes no longer covering her. She was one misstep away from being completely indecent.
“Be nice to her, Karkov.” I grinned, spinning a knife on one finger. “You nearly lost the boss’ attention. No wonder it went after her. Besides, she’s a soft little cloth.” I reached out, and tousled her red hair, subtly redefining the messiness that was already there. She gave me a look, caught halfway between gratitude and anger. I just smirked, which turned the entire mess of emotion into a humiliated blush. She dropped her eyes instantly, her shoulders slumping. “We can all sharpen up our timing a bit, how about? Can’t rely on Peni all the time. Even if she is quite a good healslut.” I let my touch linger just a little while, and felt the way she pressed her head into my hand gently as I did.
“Can we… can we take a quick town trip to repair, guys…? Most of my equipment is on the verge of breaking.”
“Hell no. You let yourself get jumped, you deal with the consequences,” Karkov said, his eyes blazing.
“We’re almost to the end of this dungeon, you know. If we keep pushing on, we can be World First for the last boss.” Daedra’s cool, sharp tone cut in. The black mage adjusted her witch’s hat, brushing it back out of her eyes with a little smirk. She gave Peni an unkind sneer. “You can handle that kind of challenge, can’t you? I mean, if you need to go back, I suppose that we could find another healslut…”
“No!” Peni’s voice was much too quick, and I tousled her hair a little. “I can do it! I’m sorry.”
“We don’t have to. I mean, it is a real opportunity for us, but if you can’t take it…” I left the words hanging in the air.
She looked down, setting her heels in. “I can do it. I can!”
I smiled, and softly patted her ass. Another squeak escaped her pouting lips, but before she could do more, I was setting a ferocious pace forwards. “Come on, then!”
—
I frowned as we entered the final chamber, moving into our formation. The room was vast, maybe the ancient remains of a ballroom, marble tiles covering the floor. We stood in a triangle, Peni in the middle, As we studied the room. Great pieces of glasswork, copper distilling tanks, bubbling flasks, all of them were spread out across the room on top of tables and scattered at random. It would have been worth an absolute fortune in the right guild hall. I let an avaricious grin slowly spread across my face.
There was a sudden loud explosion from behind me. I dodged forward, rolling smoothly and coming to my feet, facing back in the direction of the sound, knives up. Karkov and Daedra had done the same, quickly moving out of the way despite cumbersome equipment and substantial… ahem. The only one of us who hadn’t dodged the surprise attack was…
“Oh, great, the worthless cunt fucks up again,” said Karkov, eyes blazing. “As though it weren’t obvious a surprise attack were-“
The smoke cleared. There, in the center, stood a woman. From the waist down, she was fairly standard final boss fare, a tremendous dark-scaled snake body coiled tightly around Peni. From the waist up… She was rather attractive, actually. Skin a bright blue, pale green hair hanging across her shoulders, giving her an appealingly exotic appearance. I felt my pants stiffen a little. And there, in the midst of her coils, stood a terrified Peni, a vial held to her lips, her nose held shut by the woman’s fingers, her throat bobbing slowly as she drank the potion. Before one of us could rush forward, it was empty. There was a moment of silence, and then a large gray teardrop appeared above Peni’s head, hanging like a threat.
“Great! Fucking fantastic, Peni! Get yourself cursed with something, why don’t you!” Karkov lunged forward recklessly, striking at the snake woman. She swiftly uncoiled, and Karkov just barely avoided striking Peni. He did elbow her as he chased the snake woman, sending her onto her ass. Even as she pulled herself to her feet, I saw a few blue droplets appear in the large grey teardrop, and pool in the bottom. As Daedra rolled her eyes and started after the snake woman, a few more appeared there. She looked up at me, fear in her eyes.
“You need to be quicker,” I said. I wanted to be kind. But damn it, she really was fucking up at the worst possible time. Her eyes brimmed with tears, and the teardrop filled up to the halfway mark, but she nodded quickly. I rushed past her.
The boss was clearly meant to be a bitch. She pitched out status effects constantly, including at least one that involved only a mysterious, ominous countdown from 10. Every time the snake threw that attack out, Peni was on top of it, curing it, but the lower the boss’ health got, the quicker it was. Each harsh word was making the teardrop fill, but it was hard not to berate Peni as she slowed down, her cheeks running with tears.
“Peni!” Karkov growled out. “God damn it, cure!” A large 6 was visible over his head. It changed to a 5.
“I- I can’t! I don’t have enough mana potions! I-“
“What?!” I shouted, turning towards her, anger in my eyes. “Why didn’t you tell us you were short, healslut?!”
“Peni!” Karkov yelled, a large 3 over his head.
Peni’s eyes were wide, bright tears glittering on her cheeks as she stared at me. The large teardrop above her head was full.
“Wait, don’t look at her eye-nnnnahhh…” Daedra’s voice went from a scream to a moan.
“Peni, you fucking worthless biYEEEEK!” I turned my head, just in time to see the large number change to a 0. Daedra was swaying, her eyes dull, staring at the glowing and dancing eyes of the Echidna. Karkov was writhing, his voice pitching higher, his armor falling off of his body as he transformed, growing slender, tiny, his body becoming more waifish than even Peni’s, his eyes widening as his manhood disappeared. In moments, he was replaced with a delicate, shapely, dark-haired succubus, her big brown eyes shocked. “Peni!” she shrieked, her eyes wide.
I turned, and saw Peni. She had her hands to her forehead. The snake woman let out a slow, soft, sultry laugh. “Such harshness towards the one who keeps all of you healthy. Such thoughtlessness towards the one who’s giving everything.” She tittered again. “Not very appreciative.”
“S-shut up, you stupid snake bitch!” Peni screamed. And her voice was different. Deeper, resonating as she pushed her fingers against her foreheads. “Shut up! All of you! Daedra, you cruel whore! Karkov, you big bully! And you!” She whirled, pointing her finger at me. “At least the others are honest with me! At least they’re open about hating me! But you! You!” She let out a scream.
Her clothes tore, her muscles bulging. A pair of long, curved horns grew out of her forehead as her skin slowly shifted in tint into a bright green. Her clothes fell into shreds, exposing her nude figure, growing taller, taller, her eyes shining yellow, fury in them. I went to throw a smoke bomb, but she moved with incredible speed, striking me and lifting her in strong arms. “Damn it, Peni, get control, this isn’t you-“
“I’m not your healslut!” she shouted, her eyes flashing. “I know you always want to fuck Daedra, and you just lead me along!” She lowered herself, forcing me onto my back, her eyes flashing with anger and… something else.
“Peni, please,” I said, speaking softly, as she climbed on top of me. “You know I care about you-“
Her hand rested on my chest, pushing down hard. With her other hand, she tore my trousers off. I could hear Karkov moaning and squealing loudly behind us, the laughter of Daedra and the snake woman filling the air. “You’re going to. I’m going to make you mine. You’re going to be my bitch, understand? From now on…” She grinned, bright white teeth shining. “You’re my slut!”
Her powerful fingers wrapped around my shaft. With three merciless pumps, she had me at full mast, her yellow eyes fixed on mine. A combination of fear and arousal were making it very hard to concentrate. Peni had always been pretty. With the addition of an extra couple of feet of height, about a hundred pounds of muscle, and a heavy increase to her bust and hips, she was almost goddess-like. And she was definitely arousing.
I was realizing something about myself, as Peni’s firm grip slid up and down my shaft, jerking me off with clumsy, forceful movements. I liked seeing her take charge. I liked having her take control of the situation. I liked being helpless beneath her, gasping like a beached fish, my back arching under the sheer force of the handjob. I tossed my head back, trying to focus, to keep myself on an even keel. My eyes happened to fall on Karkov. The petite dark-haired succubus was bent over, hands handcuffed to her ankles. A glowing-eyed Daedra and the boss monster were both equipped with frighteningly large dildos. It seemed like I had gotten off lightly.
No sooner had the thought crossed my mind than I felt an overwhelming pressure on my midsection. I turned, and was surprised by Peni’s lips, pressing ferociously against mine. The ogre girl squatted on my stomach, one hand on my cock, the other on the back of my head, kissing me hungrily. Her tongue swirled around my mouth a couple of times, practically forcing me to drink a bit of her saliva. The stuff was thick, sweet, almost honey-like, and I coughed a few times as she broke the kiss, my heart pounding with excitement as she arched her back.
“Peni, come on, you don’t want to do this-“ She silenced me with a single large finger against my lips, her eyes looking surprisingly lucid.
“Believe me. I really, really do.”
Her hips rose and fell, and I braced myself for pain. Instead, there was a momentary pressure, and then Heaven. The grip of her pelvis was impossibly snug. If she clenched, I wouldn’t have been able to penetrate her forcefully. But with her hips descending on me, she was able to take my manhood inch by inch, gripping me inside of that inhumanly warm, tight cunt. My eyes rolled up, mouth hanging open, as she worked her way down.
I had experience. Lots of it. She had none. I had fucked hundreds of women, and as far as I knew, she was a virgin. But she was in complete control of the movements. The slightest attempt to adjust my hips was met with a forceful hand against my chest, and a warning growl. I went still, and she set the pace, hips rising and falling smoothly.
All of my experience was useless. The sheer strength with which she gripped me was making it impossible to focus. In a matter of a few seconds, she forced me to orgasm. I had a few seconds to relax, my brain dissolving under the pressure of the wet snatch clinging around my manhood, thick strands of semen forced up into her tight body. Then I came again, as she pumped her hips without regard for my safety. And again. And again, as the world faded around me, Karkov’s shrieks of pleasure filling the air…
—
“Mmm. Are you sure you don’t want to stay? You’d make an excellent lieutenant.” Echidna sat coiled, a smile on her face. Daedra stood beside her, dressed in black leather, a vacant expression on her face. Karkov was trapped in her coils, pretty face pleading silently for help. I certainly couldn’t give it. A collar was wrapped around my throat, spiked with metal studs, the leash trailing to my new owner’s hand.
“No. I’m still an adventurer. I don’t care what happens to those two, but this one’s mine.” Peni’s hand ruffled my hair, and I instinctively leaned into it, the strength and security of it sending a traitorous little wave of pleasure through my heart. “You can feel free to keep them for as long as you want. Humiliate them. But this one’s mine, and I’m leaving with him.”
“He didn’t treat you any better than the others, you know. He was just as dismissive, just as thoughtlessly cruel. Worse, even, because he tinctured it with just enough kindness to manipulate you. I could keep him…” Echidna reached a hand out towards me. Peni grinned toothily, and the hand stopped.
“No. He did treat me poorly. But that’s alright.” She trailed her fingers through my hair. “He’s learned his lesson. And he’s mine now. Aren’t you?”
“Yes, Peni,” I said, bobbing my head quickly. She smirked at Echidna, and turned on her heel.
“Come on DPSlut.”
I nodded again, and followed.
Day 6: Manticore, Berserker, Soft and Cuddly. Tail-Sex, Maledom.
“Look, I’m just saying you have a bit of an anger management problem.”
I narrowed my eyes, sitting across from the wizard. He was not much of a wizard, to my eyes. Short, with mousy brown hair, his eyes barely flashed with fury and lightning at all. He gave a hapless shrug. “I don’t mean to insult you, you know? Not least because you can get a little bit… violent when you feel insulted.” I crossed my arms, biceps bulging with the restrained desire to tear his arms off. “To be blunt, it’s making working with you a little uncomfortable. You know?”
“My father was slain, his throat cut. My people abandoned me, throwing me into the wild and forbidding me from ever returning. My nemesis, the dragon Centrofax has gone unpunished for what he has done to me. These reasons are not good enough or me to rage? I am one of the Berserkers! Rage, fury, these things are in my blood!”
“Gandy, you were the one who cut your father’s throat because he didn’t pass the butter in a timely enough manner. You were thrown out of your village because you murdered your father and swore to do the same to the village council’s fathers. And Centrofax whistled at you one time. Look, the last three villages we’ve visited have wound up burned to the ground because of your direct actions.”
“The last time, I merely slew a fire elemental. It’s hardly my fault that it exploded and set fire to the local coal mine.”
“It was helping the local people by keeping poison gasses from building up. Please, Gandy.”
I tapped my fingers on my bicep. On the one hand, I had killed people for lesser insults than the wizard was leveling. On the other hand, murdering him for speaking up to me would be both more difficult than it was worth, and also would prove his point. That, I could not abide. “Fine. What do you want me to do about it?”
“Well, see, the whole anger thing isn’t so bad during battle. We’re not complaining about your ability to cleave a man lengthwise in two. But bifurcation has a time and a place, doesn’t it?”
“I suppose,” I cautiously admitted. Personally I thought any time was a good time for bifurcation, but part of the reason I traveled with thid milk-drinker was jid knowledge of social niceties like these.
“Well, I made this.” He took out a small bracelet. I frowned, eying it. Delicate rings of silver and half moon symbols filled in with pale stone covered it. It was one of those disgustingly civilized items, the kind that men gave to women to announce a desire to bed them, and which women wore as a way to show how much they were desired for bedding. I would never normally buy such a thing, but he clearly had worked hard on it. I took it and slipped it on quickly, then frowned.
“Wait, what does it do?”
“It should hold back your anger. While you’re wearing it, if no one’s life is in danger, you won’t get angry. You great colossal bitch.”
I tilted my head slowly as Ulrik cringed back, his hands up. I knew the words were an insult, I knew that they were meant to enrage me, but while I was conscious of it, I did not feel the blood-red haze descend over my vision. I slowly nodded. I got a choice about my anger. “Yes, I see. You should apologize, though.”
“I’m sorry. I just wanted to make sure they’d work. You’re… not a great colossal bitch.” I nodded slowly, and luxuriated in the feeling of not wanting to behead the man. “So it feels right? You should be careful not to get too angry, I’m not sure what the consequences of overloading the enchantment might be.”
“Yes. I think that this can work.” I lifted my arm into the air, admiring the glittering shapes and subtle workmanship, and felt very warm inside. In a good way, not in a murdering way. “It’s pretty.”
—
“Gods, Gandy. Are you all right?”
I growled softly. The rage of battle was wearing off, the Manticore woman lying on the ground with a dazed expression from where I had repeatedly beaten her with an iron battleaxe. The skin and bones of a monster were far too strong to be cut or broken by such a weapon, but with sufficient degrees of force, they could be stunned for quite some time. She lay insensate on the ground as I tapped my finger on the bracelet, feeling the anger go away. At Ulrik’s words, I looked down at my own stomach, where a rather large needle, dripping with some transparent fluid, had pierced my stomach. Also my arms. And legs. My hips. In fact, there were something near two dozen of the sharp, barbed needles sticking out of my skin. The battle rage had kept me unaware of them. “Hmm.”
“Shit, we’d better get those out of you. Manticore poison can do some strange things to you. You’re feeling calm, right?”
“Yes,” I said, feeling slightly annoyed. My eyelid twitched. The annoyance was the strongest anger I’d felt in three weeks since putting on the bracelet. The silver hummed slightly, like a string of cured gut under tension. “What kind of things?”
“Well, make you lethally angry, for example. Corrupt you. That kind of thing.” He coughed, his eyes flicking up to my head. I reached up, and felt my ears- Larger, more sensitive. Fluffy. I took a deep breath, feeling the anger growing stronger. The ringing tension of the bracelet dropped an octave. “I mean, Manticores are known for being rather… rough with the men they find. And you’re not the gentlest of people-“
“Can you fix it?” I asked, my voice tense. My palms and thighs were itching. Coarse dark hairs grew out of the skin, tingling as they prickled through, my nails turning black and enlarging rapidly. “I don’t want to become a monster, Ulrik. I’m going to be very disappointed in you if you can’t keep me from becoming a monster.” My breathing was growing faster, my head pounding. I could feel the adrenaline rush, the sheer fury growing to a fever pitch. My back was aching rather unpleasantly as I tore at the leather harness I wore, yanking the needles out. They popped out, empty, bloodless, my skin already rapidly healing. “I am getting into a mood, Ulrik.”
“There… There’s a counterspell, it’s just, ah-” He closed his eyes, sweating a bit. Something smooth and rounded, covered in barbs, pressed up against his side, and he stiffened. I realized that it was my tail, dripping some slick fluids across his lap. My heart rate increased again, my eyelids twitching madly. A muscle in my arm began to fire randomly, my nails clicking together with a rather rapid, insectoid sound. “I’m… It’s right on the tip of my tongue…”
My teeth were gritted, as I breathed hard. I wanted to punish him. I wanted to show him how angry I was. I wanted to make him drown in my rage. The red haze was surrounding me, growing so intense that I could barely stand it. My hands clenched into fists, nails pressing into my furry palms almost hard enough to draw blood, as I stared at him. “You’re going to fix it,” I hissed, my voice low, backscored by the rapidly dropping tone of the bracelet. Ulrik’s eyes dropped to it, widening.
“Gandy, you need to calm down-“
“Don’t tell me what I need to do.”
“And take off that bracelet, or you might overload it-“
“The only thing keeping me from brutalizing you right now is this bracelet you stupid useless excuse for a wizard, and if I take it off I’m probably going to lose it with you for being such a bastard and-“
There was a fizzle, and then a detonation. The world spun around me as I was knocked onto my ass. I leapt back up, mouth opened, and forgot why I’d done it. I looked down at Ulrik, who was lying on the ground. Shards of silver were all over the ground, and he was bleeding slightly. My eyes widened, hands going over my mouth. “You’re hurt!”
He looked up at me as though I’d just screamed that his mother was a whore. I frowned. Hadn’t I been angry at him, just moments before? But I certainly wasn’t now. I felt… Actually, I felt better than I had in years. I bent down, and began to lap at the cut on his collarbone, lapping the blood away. “That’s… very unsanitary, Gandy.”
“It’s going to be alright, Ulrik. Even if I have to carry you back to town, I promise you’ll be alright.” He gave me another strange look. “A-are you angry because I broke your present?”
“I just…” He frowned. “Nothing.”
—
“Too much anger.” I nodded as the two of us walked together. Ulrik hadn’t been speaking to me until now, and I’d started to feel a little bit nervous. Without the ever present anger, I was having to rely on genuine emotions around him. It was surprisingly difficult. It kept leaving me feeling warm, my cheeks flushed, unable to concentrate. “That’s the only explanation. The anger of a Manticore, and the anger of a Berserker, built to a point where there was too much, and it just…” He snapped his fingers. “Rolled over.”
“Is that why I’m not yelling at you all the time now?” I asked, taking a step closer to him, watching for any sign of rejection. He didn’t snap at me, so I gently rested my tail around his side, being very careful with the barbs. The tip opened and closed obscenely, making soft sucking noises. I flushed at the images that came to mind of what I could do with it. I wanted to, but I didn’t want him to get even angrier at me.
“I guess. Hrm. A passive Manticore. Who would have ever thought?” He frowned. “I’m not sure if we’ll be able to keep adventuring, though. If you’re not berserk, well… You could hardly be a Berserker.”
I looked down at the ground. “So… you’re going to leave me?” I sniffled a bit, eyes welling up with tears. This was all so strange and terrible. It was easy when anger had been there. I could just angry away all my problems, even if it made new ones. Without the anger, all I could do was cry, and look embarrassing, six feet of spiked warrior woman with tears in her eyes.
“What? Why would I do that?”
“Because I got turned into a monster, and I can’t fight right anymore, and I broke the present you made me-“
I was taken quite by surprise when he grabbed my chin, turning me to face him. “Gandy, I stuck with you because I like you in spite of killing people. If we can’t keep adventuring, we’ll settle down and do something else. We’ve been doing this for years.” He gave me a grin. “And I can make you a new bracelet.”
I licked my lips, opened my mouth, and closed it. My tail was less able to hold back, and it pressed lightly against his groin. He raised an eyebrow. “You want to-?”
“If you don’t think it’s weird.” I swallowed.
In response, he gently pushed me forward. I squawked as I landed on all fours, my tail in one hand. I withdrew the spikes before he could stab himself, and then gasped. His robes parted, he pressed the tip of his manhood into the moist opening on the tail, and my brain nearly melted out through my ears.
I’m a virgin. More out of habit than desire, but it’s a fact nonetheless. As the tip of his manhood slid inside the tight, clinging tail, my whole body arched, back going stiff as my eyes widened. It felt better than I could have expected, the tail clenching and shaping itself around his cock. I went limp, hanging with my tail in his hands, eyes slightly dull as a soft moan rushed out of my mouth. I rolled slowly onto my back, tugging at my harness, pulling it away, exposing myself, feeling as he used my tail like an onahole, thrusting it back and forth. Ulrik watched me with an amused expression, his hand pumping back and forth, using my tail carelessly.
“You know…” He grinned, and ran a finger across the lips of the opening on the tail, teasing it lightly. In response, my whole body arched and writhed. “This is a very cute look for you, Gandy.” I closed my eyes, and whimpered softly. It was so embarrassing. I’d always fantasized that when I had sex, I would be a proud warrior, claiming what was mine, ravishing and conquering. If I’d been told I would be a monster when it happened, I at least hoped that I would have been strong enough to take charge of the matter. And now here I was, getting used to satisfy my partner like a living hole. If I could still get angry… I would have felt too good to get angry.
I arched my back, a high cry escaping me as Ulrik came. I could taste his semen, bitter and sweetness mixing together, suffusing me as though I’d sucked him off, the flavor washing through my body. My nipples stiffened, my back arched, my tail shivered in his grasp as my wings flapped involuntarily, my brains switching off for just a moment to cope with the sheer intensity of the pleasure. When I finally came back to myself, I looked up at him, feeling an unnerving desire to let him do this to me again. “You really aren’t going to leave me?” I asked, hating how embarrassingly weak my voice sounded.
“Of course not.” He smiled, and stroked my hair, helping me back to my feet as he pulled his robes back into place, and helped me back into the leather armor. I took his arm, pulling it against my chest, and smiled like an idiot as the two of us walked back. Even if I could’ve gotten angry, at that moment, I didn’t want to.
Day 7: Space-Elf, Rogue Merchant, Prostitution. Fellatio, Coitus, Bondage.
“You know, there are quite a lot of worlds that would kill for these kinds of medical supplies. Literally, they would kill you and everyone on your world if it meant they got these supplies. And all I’m asking for is money.” I gave the world’s Earl a cheerful smile. “Well, you could call it killing still, but only by inaction, and I’m perfectly morally comfortable with that.”
The man’s smile had turned almost as waxy as his handlebar mustache. I always enjoyed that little moment when my opponent at the negotiation table realized what thy were dealing with. They never saw the big picture, never saw the cost of their greed. Let us say that I had accepted his little argument that they could not afford to pay me, and taken a haircut on the medical supplies. The loss of potential revenue would cripple my ability to buy food and other necessities from this world, and to save some other world from famine or other catastrophe. I would have to take more dangerous routes through the stars, and risk losing my ship and my life. And the next time that some pissant pastoral world found itself suffering a blight, there would be no trader there to save their collective asses. From such minor acts of charity, tragedies were forged.
“I am afraid that we do not have the money, but… I am told you accept barter.” I sighed, casting my eyes up to the portrait of my father on the wall of my cabin. I always held negotiations in my cabin. It would be foolish indeed for me to put myself into the grasp of the desperate and greedy.
“I’m not looking for any new crew, my food stores are quite sufficient, and I doubt that all of the baubles in your world would be worth the time to collect and sell.” I yawned, running my hand over my mouth in an affected gesture of boredom. “And if you should have some artifact of the Lefthand Path, I would of course immediately report you to the Inquisition for trying to corrupt my soul in a vague attempt at vengeance.”
“No, madam, nothing like that. There was a xenoarchaeological dig recently. Several items had to be left behind. Rare items, certainly worth a great deal on the open market.” He took out a small sack, and gently set it down. I raised an eyebrow. While artifacts of the Lefthand Path were strictly forbidden, and I did not broker in them, these were something altogether more interesting. My eyes ran across a worn dagger made out of some curious verdigris material, a pommel made out of a single large white gemstone. An elaborate quill, from some unknown bird, dipped in a silvery metal that had set and shone beautifully across every individual filament of feather. And last, a set of simple brass earrings. I recognized the make as Eldmer. I gave him a warm, toothy smile.
“These items would be rather illegal for a baron of a world to own,” I said, letting the words hang for a few seconds, watching him begin to sweat. “But I will happily take them off of your hands, and I’m sure we can come to an agreement.” The artifacts were better than money, really. They were prestige. They were a sign of the power I wielded, to bear artifacts of foreign species without censure by the government. They made me appear powerful. And besides, I could make a tidy profit off of them. That was worth more to me than any amount of squeezing I could manage with the baron. I smiled, and took the earrings, carefully sliding them through the pierced holes in my ears, letting the delicate coils of wire and crystal hang from my ears. “Good doing business with you.”
The baron bowed deeply, leaving the room behind. I turned towards the assessor, the gray-bearded man frowning deeply. “What do you think? Booby-trapped, poisoned?” I asked, giving him a cheerful smile as I tilted my head. He reached out, grabbing one of my ears, tugging me forward, pulling my head to the side. He stared hard at the earrings, and the alien script on them. I grunted, but the old man had earned the right to be a bit eccentric.
“No, I just think that having a reputation for collecting pretty things reflects poorly on the ship, and the trading company. With all respect.” He frowned, and leaned in closer. “This is authentic Eldmer script, though.” He paused a moment, reading, then spoke aloud. “The wearer of these rings shall be granted the greatest of all gifts, oneness with the Eldmer…” He frowned.
“Oneness with the Eldmer?” I asked. He startled, frowning down at me, harsh blue eyes widened.
“You speak Eldmer?”
“No.”
“Then how on earth did you understand what I just said-” He paused, and frowned at the earrings. “These things may be dangerous. If they allowed you to understand another language, they might be tampering with your mind. I cannot recommend you wear them-“
“Oh, come on. Something that perfectly translates an alien language, while being discreet? You must be kidding. Just keep a gun on hand and shoot me in the head if I become disinterested in profit, that’s how you’ll know if there’s something wrong with me.” I gave him another broad, toothy grin, and flicked one of the earrings with an index finger, enjoying the way it rung and tingled in my ear, the weight curiously reassuring. Perhaps I’d just wind up keeping this particular artifact for my own personal use.
“If you say so. Ah…” He frowned, looking a bit awkward.
“If you have something to say, speak up, man.”
“Yes, Lady. It’s just… Must you do that right now?”
I became aware of my hand between my legs, rubbing and pressing against the crotch of my trousers. I jumped slightly as I realized what I’d just been doing, rubbing myself like a wild animal in front of one of my crew men. “That’s… none of your business.” I gave him the harshest look I could manage. “Begin the transfer of medicine down to the capital city, and leave me be.”
After the scholar left, I settled heavily down onto my chair, breathing out a sigh. I yanked my pants down, and frowned, slightly surprised. My normally chestnut pubic hair had changed, becoming a bright and fiery red. It was suspicious, but in my current state, I didn’t care particularly. The heat between my thighs was growing more intense by the second. I was not normally a lustful person, but at the moment, I seemed to need the release. I teased and fingered myself to a sticky climax in my best chair, leaving a rather embarrassing stain. Despite my best efforts, the tension building in my shoulders and back wouldn’t go away. My pussy felt hotter than it had before I started. The insatiability of it was a little bit frightening, as though a bonfire was growing between my thighs, threatening to consume me.
I stood up, legs unsteady. It was getting hard to think. I needed something more satisfying than fingers. My ship was full of strong young men, press-ganged into service from one port or another. Surely one of them wouldn’t mind getting his hands on a woman for the first time in weeks. The fact that I was currently sans trousers or panties gave me momentary pause, but then I began striding confidently through the halls, prowling hungrily for a man.
I sniffed at the air, hungrily following a scent in the air. The aroma of dried sweat and sexual repression filled the air, despite the best efforts of the atmosphere scrubbers. I prowled hungrily, sinking down to trail my fingers across the ancient steel of the bulkheads. Each ridge and divot of the construction was a feast for my fingertips, the sensations buzzing in my brain. My ears perked as I heard a familiar low grunting from through a doorway. I peered in, and a smile spread slowly across my lips.
The crewman was handsome enough, young and muscular, with the kind of thick cock that left my mouth watering, tongue practically hanging out as I stared at him. He had a set of pornographic playing cards in one hand, his manhood in the other. I’m sure he had many fine features, but as it stood, the only thing I was focused on was the slow movement of his hands. I sank down onto all fours, creeping up towards the bed, balancing caution with worry that he would finish before I got there. I felt my heart race as he closed his eyes, his hand speeding up. I crept up to the side of the bed, and wrapped my lips around the tip of his cock.
His eyes opened suddenly, and I looked up, tongue swirling around the tip of his shaft. There was a moment of uncertainty, and then a rush of hot, sticky semen poured across my tongue. The rich mixture of bitter, sweet, and salty rolled down my throat, my whole body going slightly limp on his legs as I lapped at his cock. “W-witch, don’t think-” he began, and I gave his cock a firm slurp, cutting his words off.
“I’m yor cap’n,” I managed, speech muffled by a full mouth. “Sho nun of that back-talk,” I growled, before popping off the tip of his cock. I was aware of a few changes. My chest seemed to have gained a cup size, straining the fine jacket I wore to the point of looking obscene. I climbed on top of the seaman, smiling as I straddled him. “Now, I believe that I pay you a fair wage to get plenty of good, hard exercise. I’d like you to thank me with all the enthusiasm you have.”
He moved uncertainly at first, but gained confidence quickly. His strong fingers dug into my hips, lifting me up, and penetrating me in one smooth movement. I got my feet beneath me to help, pushing myself up, off, almost to the point where his manhood would slip free from my tight cunt. Then he would squeeze tight, and yank me back down, forcing me to take him to the hilt again, my eyes rolling up as the pleasure washed over me. Each attempt to escape his lap ended the same way, my body pulled down mercilessly by those strong arms. My voice rose higher, and higher, until the world whited out. I was washed away on a tide of pleasure as his seed poured up into me, deeply satisfied with the state of things.
—
I smiled, sitting with one leg crossed over the other, in my negotiating room. I was seated in the uncomfortable guest chair, across from the hard-nosed young man who was interrogating me. His dark overcoat covered him from head to toe. “Trafficking in xenotechnological devices. Using artifacts of uncertain nature. And corruption into one of the Eldmer. You have seen a long, hard fall today, Lady Merchant.” He rattled his fingers across his chest, eyes narrowed. “You will be returned to the throneworld to be executed for your crimes, and your ship and crew seized.”
“Well, I suppose that’s one way we could have this play out.” I ran my tongue slowly across my lips, and smiled. I sat naked, stripped of my clothing. Part security measure, part an attempt to humiliate me. I leaned forward, pink nipples hard in the cold air of the room, my long ears bouncing. “However, aside from a few increases in my libido, I have been unchanged. Of course, the trade in xenotechnological devices is not illegal for one of my class. I would rather suggest that there could be great benefits to my new shape.” I ran my tongue across my lips, wetting them, making them shine. The inquisitor’s adam’s apple bobbed as his eyes dipped down and back up.
“I certainly hope you’re not trying to bribe me, as that would be highly illegal.”
“Oh, not at all.” I stood up, and sashayed round the table, dropping my hips gently onto his lap. “But I think that we can come to an equitable understanding.” I smiled, long ears twitching with amusement. “As they say, every man has his price.”
Day 8: Zombie Dragon, Dragonslayer, Mother/Daughter Play. SFW, no sex scenes.
I stood with my back straight, facing the creature before me. I had slain many dragons in my time. Wyverns and drakes, minor creatures that were barely worth the name. Great wyrms and tarrasques that had ravaged civilizations. I had fought dozens of them over the years, and never lost. This one was proving to be a challenge.
It lunged at me, mottled purple scales rustling like dead leaves in an autumn wind. The scent of flowers surrounded it, oddly pungent and overripe. Its body was almost like that of a human’s, feminine, shapely, but with skin the color of ash. Mottled yellow claws came within a hairsbreadth of my throat as I dove to the side, my silver blade drawing another long bloodless line out across the scales, scoring them badly. Without blood or pulse of life, the undead dragon was proving to be quite the difficult opponent.
I had come into these mountains on the suggestion of the local villagers. There had been myths and rumors of a young girl lost, at the mercy of this beast. She had asked for help from hunters and ranchers, only for the dragon to appear in a flurry of miasma and attempt to capture the men. It had assaulted them briefly before they managed to escape, but it was only a matter of time before the creature killed someone.
A wash of purple gas rushed out of the creature’s mouth, reminding me that if I wasn’t wary, I’d be the one killed. I drew out a small charm from my pocket and snapped it. A sudden gust of wind blew forward, blowing the poisonous smoke back into the face of the creature, and out of the cave mouth. It rolled down the hill away from where the two of us fought, leaving the dragon momentarily stunned and trying to regain its footing. I darted forward, and thrust hard with the silver dragonslayer’s blade while I took a deep breath.
It sank up to the hilt in the creature’s sternum. A great eruption of the poisonous gas blossomed up around the two of us. I held my breath, eyes tightly closed as I pulled away, hearing a thump as the creature’s body struck the ground. When I opened my eyes again the creature lay bonelessly across the floor, limbs sprawled out. I sighed with relief, sheathing the sword slowly. I must have gotten lucky enough to finally strike something vital. I turned towards the interior of the cave.
The rustling of scales was what warned me. I ducked down low, sharp talons rending the air where my head had been moments before. I turned, the dragon grinning with yellowed teeth, lunging for me hungrily, its mouth open. I unsheathed my sword and swung it in a single flowing movement, an arc of light spreading and intersecting with the armored scales of the creature’s neck. The scales barely even slowed the strike down.
There was a very final plop, and I turned away from the grisly sight. I nearly jumped when I saw the girl standing in the mouth of the tunnel leading deeper into the cave. Pale skin, large dark eyes, and a torn black dress. I gave the stolen girl a smile. “It’s alright, sweetie. You’re safe now. I killed the big bad monster.”
“Yes, I can see that.” Her tone was very dry, her expression unreadable. She slowly ran her fingers over her chin, a disturbingly un-child-like gesture. I frowned, my fingers tightening around the hilt of the sword. Come to think of it, I’d never figured out where the child had been taken from. None of the villages had reported any children orphaned or kidnapped. I raised the sword, but it was already too late. The girl waved her hand, and my body went stiff, standing ramrod straight. “Well, you are a paranoid one, aren’t you? Good thing that you’ve been breathing in Verintox’s miasma for several minutes. I might not have been able to paralyze you, otherwise.”
I strained, but there was no sign that any of my muscles were listening. I relaxed, and waited. The girl had something in mind. I would need to marshal my strength to resist it. I was aware of my own lungs continuing to work, something for which I was grateful. Otherwise, I was helpless.
“As it happens, the dragon you just slew is a dear friend of mine, but one who has admittedly fallen on hard times. She died with many regrets, and I kept her body attached to her soul to help her overcome them. She desperately wanted a family, a loving husband and children, but never had the opportunity to conceive. Unfortunately, while magic can accomplish many very useful things, it cannot restore a barren womb to functioning, nor can it restore her wholly. How fortunate then that you should come along.” She smiled, rummaging around in the back of a cave, taking out several small tools of unfamiliar make. “She is not destroyed, even now, although I imagine she is miffed by your actions. The poor thing has been having trouble ever since she was made into a zombie. Little more than a pack of instincts and desires. But a human body… Well, that should give her the chance to regain who she was. We’ll see if any of your mind survives the process, but considering the number of dragons you’ve murdered over the years, this hardly seems unfair.”
There was a sudden rush of movement, and something cold struck me in the center of the back. I tried to gasp out, but my lungs just kept moving regularly. A great pressure started to fill my head, cold and slimy. It was as though my skull was being packed full of mud, the strange presence pushing its way into my body. Everywhere it touched I began to shiver and goosebump, trying desperately to fight away the putrid intrusion into my own brain. And I realized quite quickly that I wasn’t going to be able to.
I let the calm wash over me. I couldn’t fight against this intrusion head-on. I simply needed to ride it out. There was force and instinct and need there, but not a great deal of mind. If I could just outlast it…
The transformation was curious. My skin itched, scales welling up like patches of purple bone, spreading out across my skin, covering my arms and legs, my hands growing fearsome and clawed. By degrees, my body shifted and twisted, growing taller and taller, until I towered impressively, nearly seven feet tall. The wings sprouted out of my back, horns erupting from my hair-line. None of it hurt precisely, but it did feel strange. I waited for the moment when the miasma would try to consume my mind, but it didn’t come. The miasma just seemed to settle in the back of my head, leaving my head heavy and full.
“There, you should be all converted. Let’s just get that spell off-“
I uncoiled like a spring, lunging into the girl. She shrieked with surprise as I pinned her down, shoving one claw into the young girl’s mouth, stifling any attempt to get out another spell. I raised my other claw into the air, and froze.
Looking down at the frightened young girl’s face, I felt something I’d never felt before. The intense, protective urge of a mother, refusing to harm her child. The girl looked nothing like me, she was a monster who had given my body to a dragon, but the sensation of motherly affection that welled up in my chest nearly burned. As I withdrew my claw from the girl’s mouth, defeated, I waited for her to erase my mind, to enslave me, to paralyze me to do something more terrible than even my imagination could conjure up.
Instead, she burst into tears. The terrible monstrous not-child took great heaving sobs, her child-like face twisted by loss and despair. “S-she’s really gone! S-she’s…” She sniffed, and sobbed. “I thought that it’d fix her, and make her whole again, but she’s really just a…” She rubbed her eyes furiously, weeping, and my chest burned just a little bit.
I reached out, pulling the small girl’s head against my chest, squeezing the very frail lich, stroking her hair gently. She clung to me with desperate need, her small arms wrapped around my waist as I kept stroking her hair. I felt something that I’d never before felt while I stroked her hair. A sensation that I hadn’t felt when I’d slain great wyrms, that no amount of treasure and wine could provide.
I was happy.
—
The cauldron bubbled over a small fire, as Rachel leaned against my side. The frosty morning mist around us filled the air with a haze that was only mildly cut by the sunrise. I slowly stirred the cauldron, the venison stew thickening as she watched eagerly. “Y’know, Verintox never cooked. She thought it was below her as a predator.” She looked melancholy for a moment, but then squeezed me, and seemed to cheer again. “So, where are we going now? You said that you’re feeling compelled to breed, aren’t you?”
“Yes, but I’m not quite prepared to give in to such instincts yet.” I rested a hand over my stomach. My womb throbbed slightly, a tingling clench in the pit of my stomach that sent a wash of heat through my whole body. The draconic heat was getting worse every day, and even the scent of a man was becoming very hard to ignore. “But we’re going to the city. A nice big city where you can go unnoticed and won’t be picked out as a monster. I should be able to stay out of sight.” I sighed, closing my eyes. “With any luck, we can find somewhere for you to sharpen your skills as a mage.”
“I am several hundred years old, you know,” the petite girl said as she leaned her head down on my lap, eyes still sleepy from being woken up. “I’m-” She yawned voluminously. “Notta child.” I simply nodded silently and stroked her hair, letting her sink down into sleep for a bit longer. When the stew was ready, I poured out several large bowls for myself, before waking her to eat her portion. The two of us sat in the mist, as she looked up at me, frowning.
“What?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Are you really happy like this? You used to be a powerful dragonslayer. Famous. Now everyone thinks you died in battle, and you’re taking care of me. I’m grateful, but I would survive on my own. You don’t need to do this.” She looked down at the dress. I’d patched and hemmed the frayed thing, and while it certainly still showed its age, it made her look far more cared for. Just that thought sent a little ember of warmth tumbling through my heart, warming my cold flesh as I watched her.
“I guess I just lost fair and square. I was transformed and changed. It wouldn’t be fair for me to fight back and refuse to do what I’m supposed to now, would it?” I gave her a smile, and she pouted.
“Don’t tease me. We both know I lost. You could’ve killed me, or left me behind, or… Whatever.” She huffed, cheeks puffed out with annoyance, pushing her slender, bony figure up against my side, the little lich girl huffing. “You’re just being weird again.”
“Yeah, but you’re a good girl, when you get right down to it. You just wanted to help someone who was like your mother. Maybe you did it the wrong way, but killing you wouldn’t have helped.” I smiled. “Besides, this isn’t so bad. Being a famous hero’s a real pain in the ass after a while. This way, I can just have a happy life. I think that’s all I really need.”
“Maybe that’s just what the soul of Verintox wants. Maybe you’re doing this because she changed you.” Rachel gave me a harsh look, as though waiting for me to turn on her.
“Maybe that’s true. I’m alright with that.” I took a sip of my stew, and smiled. “Let’s get going.”
“… Will you carry me?”
I sighed, but smiled. “Alright, just for a mile or two.”
Day 9: Living Armor, Wastelander, Electricity-Play. Wearing, frotteurism.
There is something deep in the human brain that is simultaneously satisfied and terrified by knowing exactly how close you are to death. It occupies the brain entirely, making equation after equation determining how long is left for the brain to keep working. It obsesses you completely with mortality. If that time is measured in months or years, it can be enough to drive a person to suicide.
My life was measured in a matter of minutes. As the thick sheets of ash lightning raged above me, I wished that I’d made different decisions. It’s a typical wish, but it had an unusual poignancy in the face of my oncoming death. The only thing keeping me from being cooked like a potato in a microwave was the heavy suit of powered armor currently wrapped around me. The only thing keeping that powered armor from becoming a two hundred pound coffin was the rapidly diminishing supply of power. This storm had been going on for the better part of two days, and so had I, marching endlessly through the ash.
The power indicator ticked down to 4% remaining. When it ran out, the power armor would freeze. If I went out into the ash, I’d be dying horribly of radiation poisoning in a matter of days, if I was lucky. If I stayed in the armor, I had perhaps a day’s rations and all the water it could purify out of my own body. I would get to starve to death, nice and slow. Or I might be rescued. The choice was almost too terrifying to be made, but ‘probably going to die’ is still always better than ‘definitely going to die.’ For the time being I kept on hiking forward, putting one foot in front of another.
The ash storm had to be magical. Some surge of wild energy disturbing the fallout, and turning a normal radioactive storm into something worse. I’d heard of all kinds of strange fates from those who had gotten caught in this kind of maelstrom. I had never believed in that kind of thing. I looked down at the 2% mark, and wondered if maybe it would better to undergo such a fate.
With the remaining energy, I began hiking up a long ash dune. The movements of the suit were becoming sluggish and uncertain, and it was growing more difficult to keep it moving. I felt my legs begin to struggle against greater resistance, as though I was walking through syrup. Finally, the suit ground to a halt, a few short steps from the peak of the ash dune, a red 0% flashing in the corner of my HUD. The HUD blinked several times, and then went out, leaving only the faint wavelengths of dirty yellow light that passed through the lenses and into my face. I took a few deep breaths, satisfied that the filters were still working, but forced to stand still now. The padded supports in the power armor had been made with this position in mind, letting me lean back inside the steel, and wait.
The chances of rescue were remote to the point of hopeless. In all likelihood, I would die within the suit, starving slowly and hopelessly. It all seemed so damned unfair, to think that I had spent my life surviving, beating the odds, only to be killed by something so simple as a lack of power.
Time passed. I drank water that tasted increasingly stale, and felt my belly grow empty. There wasn’t really a night and day under the ash storm, just a never-ending, constant darkness. I shivered slightly at the pitch black, trying to keep from panicking. The one mercy was that my thoughts seemed to slow with the lack of stimulation, my brain beginning to wander along strange paths. I dreamt of fantastic light displays and strange creatures, dream giving way to reality and vice versa, my whole world becoming inconstant and flowing around me as I tried to keep hold of my sanity.
There was a click, and it felt as though a bolt of lightning had struck me. My back arched, my fists clenching. I gasped out, and my voice sounded strangely metallic and electronic as I fell onto my knees, fingers digging through the ash. My nipples tingled terribly, my crotch seeming to almost hum with energy as the electric charge flowed through me. The HUD flashed back on, the power marker filling up rapidly. I blinked blearily at the date. Nearly a month had passed, but I didn’t feel any protest from my stomach or my throat. Had I gone so far that I couldn’t even feel the starvation?
“Son of a bitch!”
I turned, and saw a man lying in the ash a few dozen feet down, standing up. I must have knocked him down when he’d inserted a fresh power core into the suit, which made me quite embarrassed. “Hey! Thanks, you really saved my ass!” He jumped a bit, nearly taking another long tumble as he stared up at me, his jaw dropped. “I’m Penny!” I frowned. He was staring at me with an expression somewhere between shock and outright horror. “What the hell’s the matter? Never seen someone in power armor before?”
“No, it’s just…” He frowned, looking around. “Are you remote-controlling that thing?”
“No, I ran out of power. If you hadn’t come along, who the hell knows what might have happened?”
“It’s just…” He rubbed the back of his head, frowning. “I kind of disassembled and reassembled that armor before putting in a new core. There was nobody inside.”
“Hahahahah, very funny.” I set my hands on my hips. “Look, I appreciate the save, but I’m plenty alive. Here.” I hit the release, and became suddenly aware of something. I couldn’t feel the air as it blew in through the open armor. There was no sensation of warmth from the sunlight, no sign, in fact, that I could feel anything at all. I would probably have panicked, had my savior not chosen that exact moment to step into the armor.
It was like the best sex of my life. Going from terribly empty to suddenly, utterly full was such a shock that I was left temporarily speechless. My rescuer waved an arm around, and I felt my arm move with it, the armor moving smoothly according to his commands. I might have tried to stop the armor, but the sensation of being suddenly and utterly controlled was too delicious to resist. Each movement felt like a gentle caress, and the overall sense of penetration and powerlessness were making my head spin.
“Strange. Are you an artificial intelligence or something?” he asked, and I tried to keep my head together enough to respond to him. I could feel the heat pulsing at his groin. His heartbeat, I realized, felt through the medium of his skin pressing against the padding mounts inside of the armor. I could taste every mingled scent on his body; Ash, a hint of flowers, a taste of salty sweat, the musk of human body odor. All of it together made for an unbeatable combination, tingling against my body.
“Mnaaaah,” I managed, the words garbled into a long lustful moan, as I reached for him. I couldn’t exactly move, but when I pressed against him, he jumped, powered armor lifting him nearly a foot into the air. I could feel his erection stiffening as I ground my hips against him, the armor’s interior moving with me to press intimately against him. I let out another high sigh as I felt his zipper slip pushed down by the insistent grinding of my hips, exposing his manhood. Thick, throbbing, the scent of it was overwhelming to my oversensitive mind, the scent of unwashed cock making my brain tingle. I pushed forward again, and was shocked to find him penetrating me.
“What in the hell- Ah!” He arched his back, thrusting a bit deeper inside of me, that thick shaft sliding into my dripping pussy. The interior of the armor was shifting around him, moving to let me press up against him, his cheeks, his hips, his chest, his hands, as though I was running my body all over him. Every padded section seemed to be an erogenous zone, tingling with electric pleasure as the man twisted and writhed inside of me. I let out a squeal of pleasure, pumping my hips against his faster. This was the only power I could assert over the situation, but it felt good to be filled, to have that throbbing shaft dig into me, to make me moan and writhe.
All of that changed when he struck the release, pulling free of the armor with a gasp, his cock stiff and throbbing, hanging out of his pants. I turned towards him, reaching out to grab him, when he took out a cattle prod. The tip of it pressed against my chestplate, and then discharged.
It was not painful, exactly, but it was disabling. My whole body went stiff, back arching, fists clenched. Clear lubricant fluid drizzled down the thighs of the powered armor as I orgasmed, my whole brain locking up from the force of the experience. After a couple of moments, I collapsed onto the floor, groaning and moaning softly. My body twitched and writhed, as much from the orgasmic aftershocks as the sudden massive shock. He frowned, holding the cattle prod out. I might’ve grabbed it again if I could stand up straight. Instead, I lay across the ash, luxuriating in the helpless sensation.
“Look. I’m sure you’ve just gone through something deeply unsettling, and I’m sorry. But I need to get back into town, and I need to know I can trust you-“
“I’ll be good! I swear, I’ll be good, I won’t do anything weird, just, please, wear me again!”
The man stared at me for several long, uncertain seconds. Finally, he took a deep breath, and sighed more wearily than I’d ever heard a man sigh before. “I’m going to wear you. But be a good girl, and no more trying to hump me like that.” He gave me a stern look, and I nodded eagerly.
His hands slid slowly into the arms of the armor. He stepped in, and the steel and ceramic composite sealed up around him, wrapping around him. Once again, control was taken from me as he began to walk, his legs moving smoothly and dragging me along with him. I felt my hips sway with each movement he took, feeling him fill me up inside. I held back from trying to push up against him, but there was a constant pressure of his manhood against the interior of the armor, stroking against me intimately. It nearly drove me mad, and a constant trickle of lubricant wound its way down my thigh, leaving little drops of ash sealed together as a trail behind us.
I didn’t know much about the man now inside of me. He’d saved me, and something strange had happened. I should be panicked, terrified by this change, but I was finding it hard to concentrate on such negative emotions. What mattered to me was that I had an owner, someone who wore me, who controlled me, who gave me guidance. He’d given me the power I needed to survive, and would hopefully do so again. He had protested my attempt to mate with him, but I knew that he had enjoyed it when I began. I just needed time, a chance to get closer to him, to appeal to him. Give him a few weeks of being wrapped up in my embrace, of feeling my body against his, and he would wind up wanting me. I would have him sooner or later, I just needed to be patient.
And now, I had nothing but time.
Day 10: Medusa, Rogue, Latex. BDSM, Spanking, Femdom, Maledom, Role Reversal, Latex Suits.
I smiled broadly, knife out. The blade glittered in the sunlight, cutting slow patterns through the air as I approached the white-haired man. “Come on, gramps. I’m not really asking for all that much. Half your supplies, and all the money in your pockets. I’m not taking any of the damn trade goods, I’m not asking to rape any of the pretty daughters you brought along with you, I’m just going to be grabbing food and money.” I twirled the knife. “Let’s be honest, your life is a bargain at twice the price.”
The man gave me a furious, mutinous look. He wasn’t the usual merchant type. For one thing, he was dressed a hell of a lot better. The silk robe was embroidered with gold thread. I’d considered taking it, but it looked heavy as hell. For another, his walking stick was longer than usual, and lacquered. Elegant runes were carved into it. I twirled the knife around my fingers, smiling. “Come on. You took this path through my forest, knowing that there’d be a toll. Are you going to hand it over, or are you just going to scowl at me and hope that I drop dead of boredom? Chop chop.” My eyes turned towards the caravan, and I spotted something. Glass bottles, filled with colorful fluids. “And I’ll take some of that booze, too.”
“That’s not alcohol, it’s-” started one of the girls, but the white-haired man held up a hand.
“No use trying to hide it from the brigand, dear. Come on. Let’s get these things bundled up.” I smiled cheerfully at the old man. It was the kind of attitude I liked to see in my victims. Knowing when I’ve got them dead to rights, and not giving me shit about it. I gave him a quick nod.
I’d been in these woods for the past few months. Before that, I’d done the adventurer thing, going into dungeons, finding monsters, avoiding them and stealing their treasure. And frankly, it was a pain in the ass. For one thing, few monsters actually gathered much in the way of treasure actively. For another, I had to travel for a long time to find a place where I could spend the money I got. For a third, monsters have really good senses. And fourth, few monsters will just surrender because you flick a knife around at them. Now, granted, even with all of that, I was one of the better adventurers on the continent, but this was a much cushier gig. Evading the king’s patrols and dealing with the occasional wild boar, while making enough gold to live pleasantly between trips out to the forest.
“Thanks, old man.” I winked at him cheerfully, grinning, even as he gave me a dour look. Several large packages lay on the ground, as did a sizable purse.
“Tell me. Do you ever regret taking the hard work of others, and being a parasite upon the backs of civilization?”
I paused for a moment, swirling the glowing green drink in its glass flask. I popped off the top, and took a long drink, chugging down the entire thing. Then I grinned cheekily at him. “Not one bit!”
—
I lay on the ground in my small camp, stomach twisting. The nightmares flashed before me. Great serpents hissing into the night, blood red moons dripping over me, pouring a thick, ruddy crimson down onto the ground below them. Young women carrying flint knives. The food had to be tainted, or poisoned, I knew. I kept dropping in and out of delirium, the world twisting around me and pulling away until I could barely touch it, the imagery maddened. I clawed at the ground, feeling my stomach heave and twist, as though I was trying to vomit out whatever was doing this to me. I had no success.
My skin felt as though it was melting and flowing like wax. I dug my nails into my own stomach, trying to hold myself together, even as the heat grew ever more unbearable. I blindly groped for the waterskin, drinking until it was dry. I groaned and hissed, the sound multiplying strangely, as though I were caught in an autumn forest as the dead leaves rattled together. My tongue hung out of my mouth, and I tasted something strange. Like leather polish and steel and sweat and fear, all bundled together. My eyes snapped open, and I saw the young woman standing over me, knife in hand. Our eyes locked together, and she let out a terrified shriek as she fell backwards. She landed bonelessly on the ground, splayed like a puppet with its strings cut. I recognized her from the brief glimpse. One of the women who had been with the merchant.
I tried to stand, to confront her. That’s when I realized what had happened. My thighs had twined together, becoming a single, incredibly long tail. It must have been the better part of twenty feet long, laying in thick coils across the ground. Its surface was strange, smooth, not like scales or like skin. Splits appeared in its surface, revealing the interior of the thick material. I reached out to touch it, and marveled at the feel of my own body, smooth and cold and slightly yielding to the touch. I opened my mouth, and was again assailed by the strange flavors. My sense of taste seemed to reach out far past my tongue, snatching scents out of the air. I took hold of my tongue, and realized that it was forked.
I sobbed, and a dozen tiny mouths sobbed with me. My hair hung in thick dreadlocks down around my face, each one scaled and ending in a tiny snake’s head. They seemed to mimic my devastation, my horror at what had happened. I turned in a fury towards the girl. “What the hell did your father do to me-“ I began, and then stopped as I saw what had become of her.
Her clothes were gone. She lay stiff on the ground, her arms tightly wrapped around herself. She was covered, from neck to toe, in a tight shiny material. It seemed almost to have replaced her skin, it was so tight, perfectly outlining the curls and curves of her figure. Even her womanhood seemed to be etched out of the material, clinging to the lips of her spread pussy. Her legs were bound together at half a dozen places, the strange material fused together, keeping her from standing or moving. A strip of the stuff covered her eyes, blinding her. And finally, a ball of rubber protruded from between her lips, held in place by a stretchy strap. I reached down, and pulled it from her lips. “Why? And how do I change back?!”
“My father’s enchanted elixir. A curse. To make you as perverse and monstrous on the outside as you are on the inside. There’s no cure, no way to undo it. No escape from your misdeeds. This is your fate now, bandit, a monster that no one can set eyes upon! A richly deserved fa-mmph!” I crammed the rubber ball back in her mouth, feeling the anger grow more intense, burning in the pit of my stomach.
“A monster, then.” I thought of the pleasant tavern where I spent my ill-gained goods. The church where I occasionally ribbed the priests. The townsfolk and the markets. I couldn’t return there, now. I couldn’t be around people again. I couldn’t be human. I let out a soft sob, and the snakes sobbed with me. I ran a hand over my face, and regained my composure somewhat as I wiped away the tears. I stared down at the body of the young woman. Still smooth, still desirable, still human. I lashed out, striking one of her breasts with an open-palmed slap. She let out a muffled wail, and arched her back. The sensation of satisfaction was strangely intense, and I slapped her again, harder, on the other breast.
“If I’m going to be made a monster, then fine. I think I’ll take out some of my frustrations on you.”
—
I lounged in my garden. The ranger, a tall and arch woman with a firm body, stood in one corner. Delicate vines grew around her, helping to support her and keep her upright. I’d had her for the better part of two months, now, and I would likely let her free soon enough. The artistic effect of the vines pushing against her body, tightening into the latex that surrounded her, was quite fetching. The bright silver of the latex caught and reflected the light, encouraging the vines growth on her. I stepped up to her, and examined her face. Her jaw hung slack, her head downcast, showing no sign of defiance or will. Perfect.
“You… monster.” The speaker was a fiery young barbarian, one of the blonde madwomen from the far north. She was on her elbows and knees. Bright red latex covered her body, binding her forearms to her biceps, and her calves to her thighs. She was so tightly bound that she could barely move. If I was still human, she would have made a splendid throne. As it was, I simply used her as a table, her firm straight back carrying meals and providing a handy place to put tools. Another pleasure that had been taken from me by this transformation, the ability to sit.
“It’s not my fault I’m a monster. I was quite happy to simply rob, steal, and plunder. Blame the man who thought I needed a lesson.” I turned my eyes towards the newest acquisition. She had been a priest of the goddess of freedom. Now, she stood, her back ramrod straight, her arms bound behind her back, her legs frozen in position by a block of solid latex that reached all the way to her hips. I approached her slowly, smiling, my snake heads hissing in agitation. I could hide my emotion on my own face, but the snakes still revealed what I was really feeling. If there were anyone around that I cared about, I might be annoyed by that weakness.
I stopped inches away from the shivering woman. I could taste something on the air. Sweat and steel and something unfamiliar. I realized, with something of a shock, that it was the taste of a man. This was unusual. Men rarely traveled this forest. They never came to my garden. The stories of what I did to those who came here, of what I was capable of, kept them away. The women who came to fight me returned humiliated, spirits broken. Men were not particularly good at handling that kind of attack. I spent a long moment seething at the thought before I climbed into the trees.
My long, powerful body made tree-climbing easy. I spread my weight out across dozens of branches, stretching and hooking over them, seeking the man out. He moved stealthily, making barely any noise. Had it not been for my sense of taste, I would never have sensed him coming. I savored his aroma for a moment, the unfamiliar scent of masculinity, a pleasure I had been denied for who-knows-how-many years. My snakes hissed lasciviously, eager little noises. Perhaps I would keep him. Perhaps I’d teach him to respect me, to love me, even if he’d always find me ugly and monstrous to behold. He was tall, dark-haired. Curiously, he wore no armor, dressed in only a loose shirt and trousers. Equally curiously, he carried no weapon, only a shield. I frowned. Maybe he was a bit too timid for my tastes.
I dropped soundlessly to the forest floor behind him, and reached out, tapping him on the shoulder. It was my favorite surprise, turning someone around only to hit them with the full power of my gaze, leaving them trapped and helpless in the tight embrace of the latex.
He spun as I opened my eyes wide, ready to meet his gaze. I stared into his blazing yellow eyes for a moment, before I realized that the face I was staring at was my own. I let out a single cut-off shriek, and everything went dark.
The tight latex wrapped around me. My arms were bound to my body, pulling them in. My tail was bound into a tight coil, leaving me piled up like a ball python, unable to stretch myself out. My eyes were covered with a thick band of latex, leaving me in darkness. My jaw ached around a ball of smooth rubber, drool running down my chin.
“You have been a very bad girl,” said the man. He trailed his fingers through my hair, and then pulled the ball gag out. I tried to will the snakes to bite him, to savage his hand. They nuzzled and wormed around his fingertips instead. It had been so long since I’d felt a strong, confident hand. The warmth spreading through my body had nothing to do with anger, or fear.
“If you’re going to execute me, just get it over with. It would be a mercy.” I squirmed, trying to keep the tears from my eyes. “This is pathetic. My body begging to be touched by my slayer because he’s the first human who hasn’t shown fear.”
His hand whipped out, and cracked across my ass. I squawked, my tail straining against the latex for a moment, before I went limp. He spanked me again, and my whole body went stiff. I tried, as hard as I could, to escape, and failed. I was helpless. With the third smack of his palm, I just accepted it and whimpered. “I’m not here to kill you. I want you to be mine.”
I felt his hands gently tug aside the latex blindfold. It was replaced instantly with a pair of glasses. They were reflective, making everything darker. I looked up, and tentatively met his eyes. He grinned down at me, sharing my gaze, the first time I’d been able to do so in years. “Be my sub!” he stated, and delivered another harsh slap to the curve of my ass. I squeaked and jolted a bit. A burning warmth was spreading out through my body, rushing out from the tingling pain of my well-disciplined rear.
And I realized to my horror that it felt wonderful.
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I liked the Holstaurus story that featured a character who passively noted all the changes happening to her as a result of the corruption, without becoming actively sex-crazed. The dullahan was super cute! I liked pretty much everything about the rage-overloaded manticore story. Finally, the zombie dragon story was really nice. I’m afraid the rest of the stories were merely very entertaining and fun.