Potions 9 - What Happened?

Story by toucanplay on SoFurry

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#9 of Potions

Well, another story series finally completed; I decided to make the druid a dirty guy who's totally cool with being transformed into a tree, because I guess someone in these places is going to enjoy it. (Plus we all know druids are dirty perverts anyway...)


In the prologue, our ten adventurers discovered a strange vial inscribed in an ancient language.

In Part I, Connor the barbarian sampled it, finding its effects made him an even more bullish fighter than before.

In Part II, Stefan the fighter drinks from the vial in desperation; he regains perhaps a little too much vitality, and a change of focus onto a bigger picture.

In Part III, Elwin the mage discovered a new source for the contents of the vial, and decided that he was very into hanging around what he considered the new, improved Connor.

In Part IV, Robin the cleric tried to bring order to the chaos that followed from when Elwin was abducted, only to add further chaos when he exploded into a great tentacled being.

In Part V, Sir Paul the paladin and Brent his squire fall for the lust they have for each other, their bodies corrupting themselves and each other until they part ways as an owlbear and a fox.

In Part VI, Marcus the thief discovers that he is turning into a displacer beast; with no way of fixing it, he decides to go with the flow and tries to enjoy it as much as possible.

In Part VII, Giorgio the bard transforms into a big, black, arrogant dragon, wipes out a family's herd for a brief snack, and gets the men-folk to "milk" him instead.

In Part VIII, Vernon the agent becomes a large, iridescent green spider, who spends a lot of time creating a web of pleasure for himself.

And so we conclude with...

Part IX - What Happened?

Ashfist scratched his head, the ends of his dirty, long, uncut brown hair shifting around under his fingers. He puzzled over what he was seeing. Giant spiders existed, this he knew, but other than a few general arachnid factoids, he didn't know much about them. What he did know contradicted what was in front of him: they only hunted in the forest when migrating from dark hole to dark hole, they built webs vertically, rather than the essentially horizontal one he was mulling over, and the webbing tended to not smell that strong, since then they'd be noticed. This webbing had the same smell as he did after masturbating.

With his staff - an actual walking staff - in hand, Ashfist tensed fingers that were about to flex down. It suddenly occurred to him that cleaving his way through the webbing, and raising the interest of the giant spider, would probably be a mistake if he was on his own. Assuming anything about this unknown creature behaved like a spider, of course. As much as discovering a new creature was personally appealing to him, there was something about this situation that raised the scruffy spikes of hair on the back of his neck.

"What's going on here?" Ashfist was fine with talking to himself: his profession meant long periods of solitude, and while that suited his personality fine, he still spoke to keep his language skills from going rusty. It came with one drawback: with only yourself to offer counsel, it was easy to get stuck on the same problems, and using the same solutions.

Ashfist closed his eyes. He remembered leaving after the fight with the rat-men, once he'd done his best to help out. When he'd left, the others had been resting, tending to the wounded, or rooting through the rat-men's belongings for clues or treasures. Being underground had gotten claustrophobic, and he had fulfilled the first half of his missive - guide the party through the forest - with the other half guiding the survivors home. Fighting always got his blood going, so he'd gone somewhere for some peace and quiet, gotten naked, pleasured himself and had a nap. He'd come back to look after the donkey and their belongings; stockpile some fresh fruits, vegetables and fungi; and basically rest while they looked for whatever it was they were after.

Still half-dozing, Ashfist had woken up, still slightly sticky, when a large creature had flown past him. Having fairly good eyesight, he was sure of what he was seeing, but thought maybe his mind was playing tricks. "A flying lion?" he'd thought, wondering if he was still dreaming. That hadn't been the only unexpected animal encounter: owlbears weren't native to these forests, and there had also been the huge, fire-breathing reptile that had sieged the forest before flying away. "Just what kind of trouble have you stirred up?"

Any sense of good mood was gone from Ashfist. Adventurers had a nasty habit of unleashing buried evils, and generally stirring up stuff that played havoc with the local flora and fauna. This invasion of unnatural creatures was probably because they had screwed up royally. It explained his sightings, and the webbing.

Ashfist was less certain of the clothes. He'd found them when he'd went to wash his seed off his body. He recognised them as belonging to one of the adventurers, and he was somewhat confused as to why they were here rather than being worn, or being back at the adventurer's camp. Another thing that was puzzling him was the feline tracks he saw around them, and a familiar musky scent in the air; that one wasn't his.

Leaving the clothes where he'd found them - just in case the owner came back to claim them - Ashfist had come back, to stumble upon the webbing. Spotting a low spot, he carefully stepped over it, his bare feet sinking, hardly feeling the needles, burrs and prickles of the litter covering the forest floor. He continued walking, following the web around; if he stumbled upon the giant spider, he'd of course catalogue observations about it, but he was slightly more concerned with what other problems those city men had dredged up.

Ashfist paused, his ears pricking up at the sound of something else's footsteps. A fox dashed by, staring at him. For a brief moment, Ashfist wondered if the fox was deliberately raising its tail at him, standing there, waiting patiently. If it was waiting, it didn't have much patience; it grew bored, turning into a red blur that dashed into the forest. "Even the normal animals have gone strange," Ashfist thought. The webbing had been between him and the fox, he noted. His forehead wrinkled, then turned and pressed on with his task.

Sniffing the air, Ashfist moved away from following the webbing. There was something that he could smell, over the musk of the web, that smelled even stronger of semen. Had one of those large creatures ejaculated? It was certainly possible, but what caused them to was a mystery. Perhaps the adventurers had unleashed a bunch of pheromones into the air; he couldn't smell them, but perhaps they had drawn the creatures into the area? Ashfist grinned; if so, then he wondered what the adventurers had gotten up to.

Continuing to follow his nose, Ashfist came along a wide, slimy path. Giant slugs may have existed, but there were smears beyond that, and the whole thing stank like he imagined a whorehouse would; it was the one thing about city living that had piqued Ashfist's curiosity, but never more than what would outweigh his natural reluctance to be around other people for too long.

"Monster fluids," Ashfist thought. "I should probably collect some." Although he was rather crude, collecting samples from local and exotic animals was part of his profession. He sniffed, feeling an odd stirring through his body. There was something about that strange, yet still familiar, smell that went right for his cock, making it gradually stiffen, raising into the air in front of him. A natural aphrodisiac of this potency could pay for the man-power to cover repairing the damage the creatures had done to the forest, and it would need to be chronicled after all.

Reaching down, Ashfist probed a bit of it with his finger. The creamy fluid clung to it, almost as if it had sentience. His shaft throbbed, all the post-orgasm weariness in his body gone. Hairs prickled over his slender, hard body; he tried maintaining a layer of fat, but that was often difficult on what he could forage. He wondered if, perhaps, this had been a mistake, but pretty soon it felt like his whole body was throbbing. He closed his eyes, his dick pulsing and dripping in anticipation even before he could even put his hands on it.

First, though, his dirty mind wanted to make sure he understood all of the fluid's properties. Ashfist put the finger into his mouth, sliding the strange sexual fluid over his tongue. His body throbbed, pulsing and hungry. His jaw dropped, his lips forming a loose 'O' shape that quivered as his body convulsed, his flesh overwhelmed with lust.

Ashfist's hands immediately went onto his cock; he had no idea how his endowment compared to that of other men, nor did he care, but he was familiar enough with his own cock to notice something was going on. It had never swollen this large before, and it still felt like it was growing. Nagging worries fell away as his hands caressed his stiff, burning rod, his hairy, thick sack and all of the sensitive spots around them. He barely noticed his foot creeping closer to the puddle, his toes dipping into the fluid; by the time it started affecting his body, he could hardly care about the strange puddle his toes were sinking into. All he could think of was just how potent this aphrodisiac was, and just how horny he felt. "Wonder if this is what animals get during mating season," he reflected, his hand sliding over the thick foreskin, peeling away, the bright purple head sliding out, gleaming with his body's natural lubrication.

All of Ashfist's toes were sinking into the ground. The tips were hungry, distorting under the dirt, branches snaking off to find more of this fluid, or any other fluid, that it could. Although he could feel it, Ashfist barely noticed; his loins burned and ached to be pleasured, his pre-cum almost flowing out of the tip. His member was fully engorged, yet it was still growing. The flesh was taut under his touch, but it was still immensely sensitive. While his feet continued to change, now only barely recognisable as such, he fucked the air, rocking back in forth in place, the tendrils underground grasping onto buried rocks and roots for leverage.

The sound of Ashfist's heart pounding filled his ears, his blood coursing through his aroused, changing body. His whole body felt hot, sweat matting his brown body hair over his tight, stringy muscles. Veins thickened, the absorbed chemicals in the soil around him pulsing through his body, carried with each heartbeat.

Ashfist's eyes opened awkwardly, as if he'd been asleep for years. Looking down as his cock, still growing and widening, he first noticed that his body was undergoing something unusual. Druids were used to this kind of thing, however; becoming closer to nature was their main life-long pursuits, and with the flesh of the throbbing shaft starting to lighten, small growths rubbing along the fingers of his busy hand, he found himself becoming even more aroused at the idea of his body changing form. His thighs twitched together, only half-voluntarily; he'd noticed a heavy tugging on his balls. Although his attention was mostly on his now massive, two-foot-long shaft, too thick even for both hands at the base, he had also noticed his sack bulging out, filling in the spaces between his legs.

Nutrients surged up from the soil as Ashfist's roots went to work. Large, thick ones had followed the trails of fluid under the ground; he could see it slowly being soaked into them - into him - spreading through his changing body, heating him up from the insides and ready to change him more. His balls continued to swell, as if they were collecting all of this fluid for the biggest orgasm of his life. The skin of his scrotum stuck firmly to that of his legs, the fleshy colour starting to pale as the change began to take hold to his very blood.

It wasn't the only colour change Ashfist noticed. The fluid dripping from his cock had gone from clear and runny, if sticky, to thick and whitish. It trailed down, over his fingers and along his now three-foot-long shaft, which was still growing, the changes fuelled by what his increasingly wide-ranging roots were pulling up from the soil.

Ashfist let go of his shaft: the extra growths were now an impediment, but he'd struggled on regardless. He had instead surrendered to the body-shaking rush of him sliding over the edge into orgasm. "So soon?" he thought, slightly disappointed with his own performance. He couldn't dwell on it for long, because he felt a surge of power growing, and flowing along his leaking erection. He couldn't contain it; his throat let out a long, deep moan, arms hanging limply by his sides as he tried in vain to fuck the warm air flowing over the contours of his manhood. The feeling lasted a long time - too long for a normal, human ejaculation - and his thoughts struggled to find a firm foothold in his fogging mind.

When the feeling had died down, Ashfist looked down, seeing why his body had been overwhelmed. The thing growing out from his crotch barely resembled the familiar human penis he had enjoyed; several thick, long growths had branched off of it, each growing almost as rapidly as their host. Each looked like a clone of its parent too, the flesh pale but still keenly sensitive and aroused, with more, smaller growths branching off of it. He touched one, moaning again at how intense the feeling in it had become. He could barely see below it now, although he could feel his large testes trying to fill in the space between his legs. The flesh of the legs themselves stretched and grew too, all of it merging together into one long, pale trunk. The tiny hairs that covered his lower body expanded and hardened into thick flakes of whitening bark.

With multiple erect branches of his cock to tend to, each throbbing and dripping, Ashfist's hands became busy again. He continued to ooze more of this incredibly potent seed, flowing like sap from every tip. It didn't go to waste; his roots drank deeply, the transformative effects feeding on themselves, changing their host to make more of it.

By now his feet were gone, replaced by the thick, round base of a tree. The paleness of his skin and bark continued to spread, faster than most of his other changes, as his blood was now the same fluid oozing out of the multiple phallic tips of the large, branching growth that was growing and stretching, as his body thickened from the feet up.

Ashfist stopped stroking, allowing his branch of cocks to pulse and drool on their own. The air around them was just as warm and caressing as being actually touched, and it was becoming more difficult to work his hands. Touching so much of the fluid had leapfrogged the changes, and his fingers were now growing, the nails softening, blending into the bulging phallic heads that appeared on the ends. They yearned to caress the air, rather than each other. "Guess that's just part of being a tree," he thought, stretching his arms upwards, letting the breeze sway through them as they gradually grew as sensitive as his shaft.

The advance of bark up Ashfist's body was very slow in comparison to the rest of his transformation, which he could feel pulsing through him as, one by one, his organs altered. Each one was gradual, the new parts that replaced their functionality being fully-formed before their absence would be missed. Even the slow advance of bark made sense to him: how could you continue to change if you were bound by a rigid structure.

As more of his digestive system was replaced, Ashfist drank more hungrily from his roots, feeling them branch out further, diving down. The white ooze trickling down from his branches was the most flavourful dish his roots had to feast from, and he yearned for more. His body seemed designed solely to produce it: he couldn't exactly feel inside of him, it was more of a sense, but he could tell his core was becoming a long fluid-producing core, eager to feed the world. He could feed himself, but he wanted more. He thought it was the shame one of the others hadn't joined him. His body shuddered at the thought of being slowly intertwined with another, their flesh fusing into one large living thing.

Two more penis-like branches sprouted out of his buttocks, quickly growing and dividing to catch up to the one growing out of Ashfist's front; a front that was becoming harder to identify as such. He was used to the sense now, his nipples beginning to stretch out as other stalks budded over his back and sides. He looked down, wondering if he had grown taller. It seemed vague to him; he hadn't noticed it, but his mind was starting to change as well. Alien thoughts peppered through his stream of consciousness; what little interest in human endeavours there was quickly disappeared. Ashfist welcomed it, feeling more of his hairs beginning to convert into the scales of hard wood that covered him up to where he suspected had been knees at some stage.

Ashfist closed his eyes for the final time. It was getting easier to sense things about the world through touch: the feel of the wind seemed to carry eddies on it of everything around him, even the other trees. His roots could touch them, and seemed to absorb their feeling. He coiled around them, feeling a surge of excitement as they began to fuse together, the sensation of touch slowly growing into his neighbours as he started spreading his network through the forest. He could see more of it, and - in time - decided he would see it all.

Bark started to claim his still-sensitive cock-branches. His pubic hair hardened first, becoming a sturdy support; once that was in place, new bark began to spread up from the base of what had been his cock what seemed like a lifetime of pleasure ago. Warmth flowed through him, excited by the idea of his numerous branches spraying out, allowing others to feel the same thing.

Ashfist would have smiled, but his head was already starting to undergo a transformation. He tilted his head back, letting the thick oozing, branching tongue pass through his lips, and wondered with a giddy, alien mind if that was anything like getting a blowjob. His ears and chin had started to stretch and warp, his eyelids becoming thick, sealing over what had once been his eyes.

Fluid trickled down from his arms, trailing along the intensely pale skin and greying hairs to the large, stretching trunk covered. No obvious human musculature remained from the chest down, and even that had become warped with growth. He shuddered, thick green buds unfurling into large, wide leaves on the tips of his more-developed branches, enjoying the rapturous warmth of the sun. Ooze glistened over them; even after being almost transformed completely into a branch of a tree, his cock was still a cock.

Although his body was stiffening with the strong rigidity of a young, healthy tree, Ashfist could still feel the sensuous pleasure running through his body - bodies - as his branches grew, his leaves unfolded, and his body went through the final steps to rid himself of what felt like unfamiliar humanity. His face was almost unrecognisable; his tongue had grown into a long, sensuous branch, with more forming from his chin and nose. His hair split in places as newer branches grew, shading the larger, older ones along his trunk.

Since Ashfist didn't mind becoming a tree - rather enjoying it, in fact - his memories and personality flowed from his human mind easily through the network that spread through his body, the space of his physical brain needed to continue producing that magical fluid that had claimed him. His growing influence allowed him to learn more, including of what happened to the men he brought out here, but he only considered it in abstraction aside from a few things.

Intensifying his spread to trees nearer the burned parts of the forest, he wanted to make sure his old human's wish could come true. The fluid stopped trickling, Ashfist holding himself back. The production didn't slow down, but he wanted to feel that uncomfortable intensity building, passing his prior limits. He was hardly human now, but intended what was left would go out in a messy spray of glory. It didn't hurt that he intended on luring other creatures to him; understanding the full range of what happened to humans in contact with this fluid made him eager to spread it out.

Bark began to race up over Ashfist's body; it was certainly unique for a tree, with white bark and very phallic points, but it was still a tree and needed a hard protective skin over its insides. Ashfist welcomed a burst of growth around his neck, the final shot of distortion to pass through him before he felt he had truly become a tree. His insides ran hot, the pressure growing.

A spore-like spray of fine droplets erupted from every branch and twig over Ashfist's body. A shuddering orgasm ran through him as he embraced his new function as master of the forest. Magical white seed rained down over the forest, carried into the air. Some dripped down onto his still-exposed skin, but the bark quickly budded up from underneath, his body absorbing it.

Some things, however, hadn't changed; as his body leaked a small, spent amount of seed from the ends of his branches, Ashfist felt his consciousness grow heavy and tired, dimming down until he was almost indistinguishable from a normal tree, while he dreamed from memories that formed over the network of trees, each one he touched starting to blanch and drip a slowly-whitening sap.

Ashfist didn't notice the large spider scuttle over him, its strange mouth dripping a familiar white fluid. It rested, weaving its net around it, before moving off. A fox scurried through the forest, a strange need aching in its hole. An owlbear skulked around, its prominent erection throbbing, eager to be sated.

Below the forest, a squirming mass of tentacles had left a sticky trail along the dark entrails of a dungeon; some were making more, as an armour-plated minotaur writhed as it was bound and penetrated by them. Farther afield, a large griffin took flight; the earlier satiation of its lust gone, as he hungered for more. A displacer beast blinked, hiding in the shadowy loft of a barn, watching the farmer labouring below, gripping a barbed sheath in his hands as he thought about the best way to persuade him to join in some fun. The large dragon that had devastated the forest earlier was currently having his aching shaft tended to by a growing army of inhuman servants.

Ashfist woke up briefly, his consciousness stirring up one thought before returning to rest. "Ah, so that's what happened."