FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Slayer or Layer 23

For Lorvianne

By Draconicon

Time. There was very little concept of time in the underground. There was the time that it took for the torches to burn down, the time between feedings and waterings, the time between being tied down and being released for the short time it took to release his waist.

There was the time it took the different bandits to fuck him.

It was a whole unique torture, not knowing how long he had been there, having no concept of days or hours or minutes. He measured everything by the length of time that a torch took to burn down, counting the longer periods by shifts between being tied down and being let up.

And through it all, he was fucked. And fucked. And fucked.

The bandits never stopped, the bulls and dogs using him almost constantly while they were in the cave. They seemed to have a rotating order between his legs, fucking his scaly pussy, using it over and over again as if it was the only thing in the world that mattered to them.

The only break he got was when they left the cave to do some more villainy, but even then, he always knew that they would be back eventually. In fact, he begged for them to be back.

It had to have been at least a day when they first left him alone, heading out to do who knew what when the first change hit him. The curse had wracked him with need, almost as if it was punishing him for being caught and used by people that wouldn't properly breed him. He'd been dripping, oozing, his juices running freely for hours when the first CRACK hit his body.

Lorkos arched his back, shouting loud enough to wake the dead, but there was none to hear him. He thrashed from side to side as his spine creaked and cracked again, and again, his body feeling too small for his bones, his legs and hips feeling like they were being pushed further and further from his shoulders.

It ached, but every time that something cracked, some of that ache was soothed away, almost like he was gaining something that he was supposed to have, like the pressure was being released. Panting, the once-wolf looked down at himself.

He was almost completely dragon now, only some bits of fluff left along the edge of his muzzle - no, his snout - and the lack of horns on his head. He'd been used to seeing that, used to the way that his breasts had pushed up and show themselves off, but now...

Now, he was stretching, changing, warping. His body was growing longer, his back stretching out from what it had been to something...different. He grunted, gritting his teeth at the sensation of his spine cracking, growing, cracking, growing, feeling it pushing further down, elongating his body.

He didn't understand what was happening. The transformation had never affected him like this, even at the worst of times. Was this...

This had to be a punishment. He had let the mammals fuck him instead of the scalies, and it was taking even more from him.

He gasped and whimpered as his back cracked, arching off of the ground as two small lumps started to pop in beneath his shoulderblades. Wings, he knew, but they were so small to start with, like bumps that were pushing through the scales, that he almost didn't notice them.

At least, not until they popped free.

He roared at that, a sound that he had never made before and he hoped never to make again. It was beyond the sound of a bear roar, beyond even the roar of a drake.

It was the sound of a dragon, and it was wrong.

When the bandits returned, Lorkos was different. Not completely changed, but bigger, longer, taller than he had been. His middle was quite a bit longer, the distance between his shoulders and his waist nearly as vast as his height had been beforehand. His tail had grown longer, too, and he was lifted off the ground by wings that were bigger than he would have asked for.

The bandits didn't say a word. They merely untied him and shifted him around, putting him on all fours.

Then they set to fucking him again, one by one by one, always making him remember the need between his legs while denying any relief.

It was a curse and a half, that day. His need had been ratcheted up by the constant heat, by the transformation, but once the bull and dogs started fucking him again, it was like the curse was insulted by his dismissal of scaly kind. Every thrust built that fire hotter, every orgasm inside of him forced his heat higher.

By the time that the bandits were done with him, flooding his pussy and leaving him drenched with their seed and their scent, it felt like he hadn't been fucked in days, weeks, months. His need was such that he was sure that not even a dragon would be able to quench it.

The once-wolf groaned as he slumped forward, his head resting on his hands, his breath coming in soft puffs that were little more than groans.

I need to get out...I need...I need to...get...out!

He strained against the chains on his arms and legs, but they were too strong for him. Even with the transformation, even with his greater, clumsier size, there was no escape. He was bound there, little more than a toy for the bandits between their raids.

They left him alone, stewing in his need, and his pussy pumped juices all along his thighs and down to the floor below.

And from the heat inside, from the tingle that came with it, he knew that the curse wasn't yet finished with him.

The changes came slowly, but they did come.

Every time that the bandits stopped fucking him, something else changed. After his new size, the first thing to shift were his hands. Furred fingers had already become scaled, but they changed further still, growing bigger, thicker, more like paws than hands. The digits thickened, pushing outwards and forming deadly talons, with claws that would shred through the armor of any knight.

He'd barely gotten used to them before his arms and legs started to grow to match the size of his body, getting longer, heavier, thicker, built to withstand the weight and heft of his larger form. They lifted him further off the ground, pushing him up until he was nearly twice the size of a large horse.

He wobbled from side to side on his new legs, and they were legs, not limbs. His hands were not hands, but paws, and his forelegs were not dexterous enough to be called arms any longer.

The bandits said nothing when they found him like this, but instead altered the bindings further, tweaking them, leaving his front legs against the wall and his back legs spread so that they could still access his ass and pussy.

And the transformation didn't stop there. Every time they fucked him, the curse amped up its power, and every time they stopped, he changed more.

The heat burned through him constantly, pushing at the back of his neck, forcing his head further and further from his body. His neck grew into something long and slender, something more snake-like than human-like, his face pushed away from his body.

His wings grew larger and larger, no longer small and out of the way, but great limbs capable of carrying him. The itching sensation of them pushing free of his back was torture in and of itself, but pleasurable as they came free, like they belonged there.

More and more, his body lost its bipedal nature and became more and more four-legged, more bestial, more...

More feral.

He grunted as he felt the power of the curse flooding through him, lowering his head against the wall as horns sprouted from the back of his head, as his teeth turned to true fangs, as his body ached with the need of a female in heat.

Must cum...must breed...must cum...must breed.

The heat burned through his mind as he was tortured with fuck after fuck without relief and without cease. His body continued to warp and change, becoming ever more like a true dragoness, and though the bandits didn't know it, they were pushing him further and further towards a fate that nobody could have foreseen.

Days. It had to be days later, and the once-wolf was still chained. He was locked to the wall, a metal band around his snout, his tail chained to the ceiling as the bull fucked him hard from behind.

Every thrust was deep and hard inside of his pussy, going as far as the bull was capable of going. It wasn't as far as it had been, not nearly to the womb-kissing depth that the bull had accomplished those first few days, but that was due to the size of Lorkos's body more than anything else. He had grown huge, massive, a dragon in truth rather than just in sex.

He panted every time that the bull bottomed out in him, fighting the heat that burned between his hind legs and in his womb. He could feel the urge of the curse to breed, to be filled with the sperm of scalies rather than mammals, and he feared what it would do to him next. As it stood, it had already taken his body, and it was on the verge of taking his mind.

It burned like a fire behind his eyes, consuming anything in its path. The only thing that Lorkos still thought, the only thing that kept him sane, was his plan.

Get out. Get out, get out, get out.

It was a promise, a plan in name only. He needed to get out, he knew he needed to get out, but he had no idea as to how he was going to accomplish it. All he knew was that if he didn't -

SMACK!

The dragon grunted, jumping at the bull's hard spank to his haunches. A deep growl turned into a needy whimper as the bovine threatened to pull out, and the dragon lowered his head as the hard fuck continued.

Gotta get out...gotta...get...out...

It was so hard to think through the need, the curse amping it up as the feel of the cock inside was so wrong. It was the wrong size, the wrong shape, the wrong sort of seed inside of him. He needed something more dragon-y. Something more lizardly. Something...

Something scaly...

"Heh, that's it...gonna fill you up again, whore..."

He groaned, trying to shake his head, knowing that it would only aggravate the curse to feel cum inside of him again. The wrong kind. The bad kind.

The fire surged, taking away the fear and leaving only arousal in its place. He couldn't think. Could only need. Only thrust. Only hump. Only -

"Mmmph!"

And the bull's thrusts finished, painful, hot, slippery, wrong. The seed in him was the wrong sort, the kind that felt like mammal, not like scaly. Too thin, too hot. Needed the right sort, the kind for eggs.

The curse didn't like it, and a second later, neither did Lorkos.

The red dragon roared, throwing its head back. The bull backed up, but not fast enough, not nearly fast enough to avoid getting kicked in the gut by a dragon's back leg. As the bovine hit the far wall, the dogs surged to their feet, but it was too late.

CRACK!

CRACK!

The dragon pulled his forelegs back from the wall, ripping the metal chains with ease. The strength of anger was upon him, and nothing would satisfy but revenge and escape. He turned, whipping about and ripping out yet more chains, facing the canines in the cavern.

Without even thinking, he reared back his head, and then breathed out. Fire came, followed by screams.

The dragon left the cave on wings of smoke and flaming wind. His mind was gone, his urges in control, and he let them take him through the air and up to the clouds, pulling him along without any thought as to where he might be going, only knowing that his instincts would take him where he needed to be.

Where scalies?

That was the question. He needed breeding, needed to be fucked more than he had ever needed it before. His body was wracked with the desperate heat of a dragoness that had gone too many seasons without a male, and whatever he found, whatever he sought, needed to be scaly.

Eggs were not even a concern at this point. He just needed to be bred.

Little by little, his senses started to distinguish a scent on the breeze. The raspy musk of scales, and many of them. Clothed in leather, surrounded by horses. Not in battle, but in travel. They were a caravan, he realized in the back of his head.

Rational thought hadn't returned, but if it had, his thoughts would have been something like this:

There's gotta be someone with a cock big enough to breed me down there.

What happened was more of a roar of triumph, followed by a rapid dive. The dragon caught the currents of the wind, riding it towards the edge of the field that it had been traveling over before it was caught, then soared towards the source of the scent.

When it arrived, the dragon had every plan of making them all fuck him. He needed every drop of scaly seed he could get...and he would get it, one way or another.

The End