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GATHERS NO MOSS, PART I

By Sovandar

This is a work of fiction involving transformation, male humans and male monsters from the “Monster Hunter" universe in various lewd situations at various times and in various places. If any part of that isn't something you want to see, then it's time to back quickly out of this dark alleyway on the Internet with dignity and sanity intact. And, of course, if you're underage in your jurisdiction, then you should back away too, regardless of whether you want to see more or not.

No, seriously kids, stop here.

Okay, now it's just us adults, you know the drill: no copying without permission lest the wrath of the great god Copyrictus strike you down, all characters are fictional, and in spite of a terrible pun that's easily missed and I shan't reveal, no resemblances are intended. The “Monster Hunter" world, setting and monsters are copyright by Capcom.

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Adrian woke slowly, and groggily, wondering where he was.

But then, as the sleeping draught wore off, he remembered, and cursed the damn researcher. If the dumb guy hadn't gone missing all the way up at the Everstream, Adrian wouldn't have been asked to go look for him, and he'd have been waking up in a comfy bed back in Astera…

It had been ill-starred from the start. His palico partner Aynala was one of the only people, besides the missing researcher Mickey, who spoke the language of one of the local gajalaka tribes; so naturally it had been 'vital' for the ongoing research that Aynala stay behind and translate for the other researchers. Something about studying jagras lifecycles; the tribe was known for being experts at bonding tailraiders, and were so good at it they'd been all but part of a jagras pack, protected by a fearsome old great jagras.

…up until one of the early Commission expeditions had killed it, anyway. Adrian hoped it wasn't one of the missions he'd been on; he'd fought a few great jagras in his time.

Thinking of jagras…

He opened his eyes properly, and looked around, outside the rocky crevice that had been his bed for the night. At least the tailraider hadn't been trying to climb in here with him all night… that really would have been unbearable. Hopefully the dumb thing hadn't forgotten him and wandered off… tailraiders might have some crude training, but at the end of the day they were still just monsters; they didn't exactly hold a purpose or focus on anything past their immediate needs and their packmates. Sooner or later they'd just forget why they were following some hunter around and go back to their usual stomping grounds.

But no; as his eyes focused properly, he could see the reptile, a dozen yards away, sitting and lounging on a rock. From the smear of blood around its mouth, he gathered it had already hunted its breakfast.

It was about the size of a small pony, quadrupedal, and would be standing maybe chest high against Adrian's average human height. Long and sleek, with a build that some had described as almost feline, the reptile's scales were mostly a pale amber sort of colour, with stripes and patches of forest green breaking up its outline. Its back was adorned with several large, warped scales that looked like sharp spines or spikes; despite appearances they were relatively soft and pliable, some of the older jagras' spikes even drooped visibly.

But it was a dangerous predator, even for an experienced hunter, not something to take casually. Its saurian snout was filled with sharp teeth, spaced for tearing at meat. Its forelimbs and hindlimbs ended with three long 'fingers' and 'toes', and one smaller thumb or dewclaw. Each finger and toe was tipped with a long claw; for young jagras these could be very sharp, but most adults had worn away the sharper points and edges by walking around on them. They could, and would, catch in clothes and grip while the teeth did their work… or, for their usual non-human prey, catch on skin and tangle in fur, gripping well enough either way.

He knew that if he were fully armed and prepared, he'd certainly win a fight against it; he was a veteran hunter. But on balance, he was still happier it was on his side than the alternative.

He started to clamber out of the rocky niche. Progress toward the Everstream had been far too slow; a storm had blown through in the late afternoon yesterday, and the forest had quickly become a hazardous mess of falling branches. He'd had to take shelter around the base of a cliff face before falling branches became falling trees.

He'd definitely needed a sleeping draught to get any shut-eye, using his wadded-up clothes and rucksack as both a mattress and a pillow, sharp rocks poking him while thunder constantly rumbled all around. The damn jagras had been scared half-witless, and kept trying to wedge itself into the crevice as well; eventually it had sort of managed it, uncomfortable though they both were at the tight fit.

As he stood, he realised with annoyance that his boxers and midriff were covered in something sticky, probably something from the moss all around on the rocks… or something. Maybe a large slug had roamed over him, the part-dried gunk was shiny and flaky around the edges.

Annoyingly, washing it off halfway up a bare mountainside wasn't very feasible… and it was literally irritating, his skin and groin itched, but he didn't want to scratch with bare hands and get it all over his fingers. Besides, that would probably make the itching worse!

At least he could change his underwear for some clean ones… Except as he pulled out his rucksack from under his clothes, his heart sank a bit; the bag might be waterproof - well, water-resistant - but it seemed to have slipped down into a large puddle of rainwater, a little deeper into the crevice, flap-first.

Hurriedly he pulled out the contents, cursing; the lower half of the bag was soaking wet. Thankfully that was mainly his waterskin and spare clothing, rather than the food rations, maps, or spare parts for his insect glaive - any of which might have suffered worse from being soaked overnight - but as he wrung out his spare clothes, he knew full well he wouldn't be changing into these any time soon. They'd need time to dry; and that probably meant the next time he had to stop for the night.

Damn it. At least he should be at the Everstream by noon; he could change clothes at the prearranged campsite up there, where there were mountain streams and pools of water for bathing. With any luck Mickey would have shown some sense and waited there as well, then they could set off home right away too.

He dressed quickly in his old, but relatively dry, clothes instead, sighing. But no sense dwelling on it… he pulled out a cloth of Mickey's from his pocket, and proffered it to the jagras, so it could - just like yesterday - go and follow the missing researcher's scent trail.

His annoyance at the wet clothes turned into a more intense annoyance at the creature instead, as it ignored the rag and sniffed at his hand and sleeve rather than the cloth… then stood up, and started sniffing around his pockets and groin, like an overexcited dog hunting for a treat. That was a little odd; it hadn't shown much interest in him at all yesterday; now it was like a long-lost pet finding its owner again, or something. Maybe the tailraider bonding just took time to work?

That tribe was really good with tailraiders, he grudgingly admitted; his palico, Aynala, knew a few tricks to make monsters calm and docile, but she'd never been able to get one to stay around for more than a few minutes. This was a full day later and it actually seemed more bonded to him now than before!

That didn't alter the fact that it wasn't focusing on the task at hand, and it was delaying him again. He was in no mood for this. Damn thing.

“No, no. This", he said, backing away a little and trying to put the cloth between him and it, almost slapping the cloth against its snout. “Stop! Bad, er, bad lizard! This, this!"

It didn't seem to take much notice, though it did seem confused at his tone.

Damn things. Much though Aynala, and a fair number of the researchers, would wax lyrical about how clever some of the monsters were, and how dangerous it could be to assume they were simply animals… well, that wasn't turning out to be his experience, the tailraider seemed extremely slow on the uptake.

Finally, he decided to try reaching out gently, and pressing the cloth against its nose, using his other hand to gently stop the jagras from turning its head away.

Eventually, after what seemed like minutes of confused scuffling, it sniffed at the cloth, then started sniffing around at the ground, at long last getting the message.

He sighed again. Well, all this was the less glamorous side of the Research Commission's expedition, the parts that the hunters didn't write home about so much - the long, boring treks and frustrating realities of life far from real civilisation.

Now, time to see if the tailraider could carry on following Mickey's scent trail, despite the night's rain…

* * *

The entryway to the Everstream was certainly impressive; huge and mysterious crystal formations surrounded it, and in the distance he could hear the roars and growls of the powerful monsters that dwelt around the volcanic peak.

There was no sign of Mickey yet, but the tailraider seemed to have the scent. Despite that, and much to the creature's confusion, Adrian turned off the main path, following the sound of running water instead of his reptilian bloodhound; the camp was still nearly an hour's walk away, and his groin felt really uncomfortable, grimy and itchy. If he had to wear the clean, but damp, spare underwear after he gave himself a proper wash, so be it - it had surely dried enough by now that it would be more tolerable than this!

After a few dozen more paces, he stepped out around a slope of broken crystals, and onto the bank of a small pond - maybe thirty feet across.

A small stream cascaded down a nearby rock face into one end of the pond, swollen by the recent rain, the flow breaking over several large crystalline formations protruding from the rock face; the waterfall was the noise he'd heard. Opposite that, a series of small streams flowed out from the far side of the pond, cascading off down the slope.

Perfect.

He cast caution to the wind, resolving to keep a close eye on the surroundings in case of any approaching monsters; the Everstream's strange crystal formations often attracted powerful monsters, but he was far enough from the heart of the region to not be much worried about meeting one if he took a short break.

His armour was quickly stripped, as were his old clothes; he practically dived into the cool, clear waters. Almost at once he felt relieved, unburdened, despite the sharp prickling of the worn, broken crystal shards into the soles of his feet as he walked deeper in, the whole pond was full of them, evidently washed down from higher up the mountain, and closer to the Everstream.

He chuckled for a moment as he turned and saw the confused demeanour of the jagras, putting one claw in the water, pulling it back in apparent consternation, and looking at him as if to ask if he'd lost his mind to go jumping in there. He guessed that for the, presumably cold-blooded, creature the chill probably wouldn't be very refreshing even after a long, hard climb; and sure enough, the jagras plodded away a little down the path, not looking back. He had a weird impression that it was sulking.

Well, it could suit itself. He swiftly emptied the pockets of his discarded clothes, searching for the bar of soap he remembered putting there yesterday; and then, when he found it, started lathering his whole body up.

He frowned at the shiny, dried stains matted in his pubic hair though. What in the world had he gotten all over him last night, where had it come from? Very strange.

But then he yelped in momentary panic as he scrubbed at the offending patch of hair - only for it to come completely loose from his skin, floating away in the weak current, leaving his groin clean-shaven! Worse, the skin underneath, even up his belly a little, looked… greenish. Not very strongly green, but there was a definite discolouration. Ah, shit… was he sick?! This couldn't be normal..! Or was it just that stuff staining his skin somehow?

In a momentary panic he prodded at his dick and the skin between his thighs, which was all equally discoloured; it felt normal though, it didn't hurt. If anything it felt more sensitive than usual… or was that a bad sign? Actually, now that he was looking more closely, his dick looked odd… bigger than he was expecting, even though he wasn't in the least excited, especially not in the cool pond water… if anything it looked a bit puffy as well as off-colour…

Now that thought made him panic a bit more, and he grabbed at his shaft to check. Maybe, a little around the base, but again, it felt norm-

He gasped as the skin on his dick slid around surprisingly easily with the slight pressure; what was this?! He pressed and prodded at his shaft, confused; it looked puffy and swollen, he realised, because the skin all over it had expanded and loosened somehow, filled with water as he moved..?!

To his growing consternation, he found that with a weak tug, he could pull the skin back from the shaft almost entirely; the loose dick-skin compressed easily at the base of his dick, which looked oddly naked in its own right without its usual covering. The shape definitely didn't look normal either; wasn't the head more usually mushroom-y…? It almost looked tapered now…

For a moment he thought with horror that he'd got some sort of warts on his dick as well, several little lumps spaced down the underside of the length - but then he realised they were too regularly spaced, and similar to one another, to be just random lumps.

They looked more like they were supposed to be there… there seemed to be half-rings of them, three evenly spaced lumps all around the circumference of the underside of his shaft, starting a little below the head, and disappearing into the bunched-up skin that still hung on halfway down; about half a dozen rings of them down the length were visible, and it looked as if there should be several more, hidden by the skin.

Well, his dick-skin never usually came loose this far, maybe those were… normal? Just hidden most of the time?

He half-persuaded himself but only half, surely he'd have noticed having those on his dick before, he'd have felt them during, er, intimate times…

This was very fucking weird!

He let go of the bunched-up skin, and found himself surprised to see it wouldn't really return to its former shape, not on its own. He managed to pull it back into place, setting it into some semblance of normality.

But then, experimentally, he pulled the skin back again, and touched the bare cock underneath; he shivered, the bared surface of the shaft was really sensitive!

He had a momentary impulse to keep on touching himself… maybe he should 'try it out' to see whether the rest of it was more sensitive too… but then the reality of the situation crashed back down on him, this had got to be bad, right? This didn't just happen randomly! He must be sick with something…

He sighed, pulling the skin back up again so things down there looked at least sort-of normal. There had to be a rational explanation. That stuff he got on him must have stained the skin, and maybe it had some sort of, er, numbing effect that made his dick skin looser.

Maybe it was a plant toxin or something… which meant it might just wear off, especially now he'd washed it away. He'd sort of heard some of the botanists mentioning that some plant toxins could cause weird effects, and were investigating them as medicines.

That had to be it, right? The hair falling out was a bit weird but the rest, he persuaded himself, would probably go back to normal later… after all, it didn't hurt, and he didn't feel sick, so… probably okay for now, at least?

If he found Mickey quickly, he could be back at Astera by this time tomorrow, and talk to a medic about it. Yeah… that was the only thing he could do. No sense in panicking when there was nothing he could do out here.

He briskly finished washing himself, the sense of refreshment from the water now long banished, and stepped back onto the bank to get fresh underwear, and get dressed. As he did so, the tailraider looked up, and bounded back over to his side, its tailtip flicking rapidly from side to side. It did that when hunting, he'd noticed, was it like a dog wagging its tail? Or a sign it was agitated for some reason..?

The creature had been sniffing with interest around him all day, and continued doing so again. He recoiled with a moment of mute horror as he had to push its head away from his groin, the mere thought of those teeth anywhere near his genitals made him feel panicky and nauseous!

He jumped as a surprisingly rough tongue licked his flank, then started proceeding around his lower back, licking off the water that still clung to him. Annoyed, not wanting to be covered in jagras saliva straight after washing himself, he pushed the reptile away firmly.

“What's up with you?!" He demanded, knowing it wouldn't answer but hoping his tone might surprise it into stopping. “You were nice and professional yesterday! Go back to that!"

The jagras did indeed stop licking, staring at him blankly and uncomprehendingly with its tongue lolling out; it would probably just start again as soon as it recovered from the brief distraction. But it did at least give him time to pull on his clothes before the persistent monster could invade his personal space again.

“Okay then. Time to see if Mickey's done the sensible thing and waited at the campsite where it's safe…" he said, as much to himself as to the jagras, trying to set his mind on things other than weird medical problems.

* * *

He approached the campsite warily; it was in a narrow recess, where any large monster would find it difficult to squeeze in, but it was the nature of these remote campsites that it was only occupied and guarded when there were missions in the area. In between, well, it wasn't unknown for small monsters to try nesting around them.

No missions were underway here right now though; the last expedition had returned a week ago, and the next wasn't due for another week. But, if he had any sense, this is where Mickey would have gone to wait for help.

Then again if he had any sense, the lone researcher with no combat training wouldn't have volunteered to travel up here with only tailraiders and the unpredictable gajalakas for company, without even asking Astera for an escort.

Adrian sighed; an escort would have been refused, and Mickey would have been ordered not to go, which of course was why he hadn't asked. Mickey had been gone four days, and barely had that much food with him, by the other researchers' estimations, so it seemed unlikely that everything had gone according to plan!

Adrian crawled through the narrow entryway into the seemingly deserted campsite, but then sniffed the air; a faint smell of smoke? Hard to say how recent it was but it meant the fire pit probably had been used recently… within a few days, for sure.

“Mickey? My name's Adrian, I'm a hunter, they sent me to look for you when you didn't report back… are you here?" he asked.

“...oh thank fuck…" came a whispered voice from inside the lone tent in the space. “Yes… I'd nearly given up!"

Adrian exhaled a long sigh of relief. Well, the dumb fuckhead was at least okay, he'd been fearing far worse!

“There's… it's difficult to explain…" Mickey continued, still at an elevated whisper. “Were there any jagras outside? Can you get rid of them if there are?"

Adrian blinked in surprise, standing up and dusting himself off. “Er… no, not that I saw", he said, confused. “You don't need to whisper, it's just me."

There was a long pause, but then Mickey spoke at a normal volume. “...Okay. Good. If you see any, keep them away! Damn gajalaka… It's, something's happened. Er. I need to get back to Astera."

“Well, obviously, I'm here to take you back to…" Adrian started, but then stopped, realising that he hadn't actually seen Mickey to make sure he was okay, he'd just assumed, since Mickey hadn't been begging for help or anything. “Ah shit… did you break a leg or something? I've got a first aid kit, I guess if all else fails I can carry you…" he started.

“No, no… it, er, everything's… all works, it's just…" Mickey continued. Adrian wondered if he was sick or something; the man's voice sounded a little hoarse, raspy. It was hard to tell if that was normal, having not met him before now.

“Ah, shit, I'll just have to show you", Mickey continued, and there was a rustling from the tent; then a figure emerged, hunched and bent almost double as it crawled out. But as he straightened up, Adrian gasped in shock.

Mickey was bald, and clean-shaven, even his eyebrows were missing; Adrian might have assumed, in other circumstances, that Mickey just shaved diligently, or had gone naturally bald somehow. But Mickey's head looked, well, scaly… it had an unhealthy, patchy yellow pallor to it, and there were three brown lines below his eyes, warped and bunched up in a weird way… Adrian gave an uncomfortable shiver, remembering his own lack of pubic hair and discoloured skin. Was this some sort of illness?! Was it contagious?

Oh, Adrian realised, as Mickey scratched at his bare scalp, there was hair. Sort of.

Several long, tangled ponytails seemed to dangle from the back of Mickey's head… with large gaps of bare skin between them. They seemed heavy and rigid though, not like a normal ponytail; it was as if the remaining clumps of long hair had been glued into the strange, spiky formation.

His eyes took in other details at breakneck pace, as his mind frantically tried to process it all. Mickey's clothes seemed too small for him, his arms extending nearly an inch past his sleeves, and his jacket not reaching down to his waist, leaving two or three inches of a forest-green undershirt exposed… no, wait, that wasn't fabric… forest-green… skin…?!

Mickey's left hand was warped as well as discoloured that same greenish hue; his pinky finger was still flesh-coloured though, and a normal size and shape… the other four fingers were slightly too long, knobbly, and the fingernail on each looked like it had been filed to a point. His right hand was normal though…

Adrian stood stunned for a long moment, before the spikes, colouration, scales, all clicked into place. They were all features that a jagras would have. Somehow, some way, Mickey was… part-jagras..?! Was that what was happening to Adrian, too?

How, what, who, no, this didn't happen, the Commission would definitely know about this sort of thing if it were possible..!

There was a long pause, as Mickey gestured to himself, as if in explanation. Then the researcher broke the silence.

“So… yeah. I need to get to Astera. I'm sure they can reverse this."

“Reverse… what? What is… it?" Adrian asked, his voice still trembling a little with the shock.

“I, er, don't know. All I do know is that it's something to do with those damned gajalakas! We should've known better than to trust them, it's just, all the other tribes used the same phrase to describe them and why they were really feared until we arrived - they 'make friends out of enemies', we just thought they meant they were good negotiators! Er, we knew about the tailraider bonding that they were supposed to be experts at, and well, we just assumed a lot…"

“That… seems like a stretch…? Just a coincidence maybe?" Adrian asked, hesitantly, still staring at Mickey in horror. “Something must have caused this, right? Why would they..?"

“Of course something caused it, and it's definitely them! Or at least, they knew it would happen and set me up! They, er, seemed pretty angry about us killing the great jagras they'd befriended, I offered to help them “set up" a new pack leader so we could study how a normal jagras becomes a great jagras, and, well…" he paused.

Adrian just stared, in stunned silence.

“Let me try this a bit more slowly", Mickey started, again. “They sent me up here with a tailraider for protection, another tailraider that seemed to want to come along, and a gajalaka guide."

“...so… one was the guide's tailraider?" Adrian asked, confused at the strange way the two tailraiders he'd been told about were now being described.

Mickey sighed slightly. “No, just, they sent me with two tailraiders. Or, er… no, they sent me with one, the second one just… well, it just followed along until they gave up trying to stop it. I wasn't about to argue with them! The guide insisted when we got here that I help with some ritual or another, painted my face with a bunch of war-paint or something, fed me some horrible concoction, and did the same to the tailraider. The, er, original one. I felt high as a fucking kite after that, heavens know what was in it! Then the next day I kept trying to ask, what the next step was, and she insisted we just had to wait and we'd 'know'. The jagras were behaving really oddly…"

“...er, oddly how?" Adrian asked, remembering his tailraider. Hadn't he thought just an hour or so ago that this was odd behaviour for a jagras..?

Mickey paused. “Er, well, it's complicated, if you don't know jagras behaviour too well. But they wouldn't leave me alone, and, er, the next day - that's, um, the day before yesterday now - I woke up and my hand was all, er, well, you see!" he said, holding up his clawed hand.

“Naturally I panicked, showed the guide and asked her to take me back to Astera immediately, and she got angry about 'breaking my promise', something like that. Then she ran off… obviously, what they were planning was for me to be the new jagras they wanted! Maybe they thought that's what I was volunteering for? Er, I don't know if the process is… finished, I mean, but I know how to make it stop. I think."

He almost stopped speaking, and Adrian had opened his mouth to ask a question, only for Mickey to keep talking in an increasingly intense, nervous babble. “Or at least how to avoid it getting worse, does that make sense?" Mickey said, wringing his hands with nervous energy. “Worked out what to avoid. You know? So it's not okay but as long as we can get to Astera fast, I'm sure the others can work out how to reverse it!" Mickey finished, finally running out of breath and having to pause.

Adrian nodded, his mouth dry, and wondered if he'd fallen asleep and started dreaming all this. He held up a hand to stop Mickey resuming his monologue. “Okay, uh… if it's that serious, why didn't you head back to the coast yourself for help? You can walk, right?"

Mickey wrung his hands harder. “Well, I don't really know the way! I could guess but getting lost in the forest or on the mountain would be dangerous, right? Besides…" he paused, and looked away slightly… embarrassed, or maybe concealing something? “Besides, er, I've been trying to run around and hide from the monsters and the two tailraiders ever since, proximity to them seems to… er, in certain… circumstances… well, I've worked out that it makes it worse. I've got some theories about why but… yeah it's complicated. Technical, you know", Mickey said, babbling again; the explanation seemed to be making him ever more nervous. “So, if you see them, don't hesitate to attack them!"

But then he was falling over himself to clarify, as if he'd misspoken and was trying to correct himself. “Er, not, kill the necessarily, er, you're the hunter so I guess you know what's best, just, drive them off and keep me away from them! Well, them away from me. Yeah?" he asked, and seemed a little sheepish.

“...okay", Adrian said, nodding. The guy seemed attached to his tailraiders; not too unusual though, hunters sometimes got quite attached, like pets, even though it was a temporary alliance at best. “No sense waiting around here. My tailraider's out here, grab your things and we'll set off right away, the sooner the better."

Mickey hesitated. “...your… tailraider? Not a jagras, though?"

Adrian hesitated. “Er… yes. I usually patrol the forest, it's what Aynala - er, my palico - trained to deal with… is that a problem?"

Mickey wrung his hands again. “I don't think it's a good idea to trust any jagras right now. The gajalakas didn't give it to you, did they? They get them from the local pack, and who knows what they've fed them all on…"

“No, no", Adrian reassured him. “It was a wild one that Aynala, er, tamed…" he said, though he trailed off a little; it had been a wild one, but hadn't it been the gajalakas who pointed out where to find some, recommended one or more jagras go with him..? That was more or less the same as the tribe sending it.

Mickey continued wringing his hands, and Adrian had already decided what to do before Mickey reached the same conclusion. “No, it doesn't matter if they did or not, no, I can't go with it! Can you get rid of it? Please?"

Adrian half-sighed. Well, he wasn't one of those people who got too sentimental about their tailraider companions, if it got Mickey moving then so be it. “Okay, er, well, without Aynala here I can't 'order' it to go. There's a back entrance over that way, it's a bit of a climb but we can sneak out. It'll soon get bored and wander off. Is that okay?"

Mickey looked relieved. “Good. No point hurting it if we don't have to, er, yeah, that's fine", he said, reaching into the tent and grabbing a small backpack. “Let's go, I want to get home and get better."

As he turned, Adrian was startled again to see that Mickey had the stump of a tail; thin, whiplike, maybe six inches long, it extended from the base of his spine. Mickey had threaded it under his belt, but outside his pants; it looked uncomfortably like a snake was trying to crawl up his back.

Adrian fidgeted uncomfortably with his insect glaive; the unusual limb's motions were almost hypnotic, and deeply discomfited him, though he couldn't quite work out why. This whole situation made him uncomfortable, and he was quite worried about himself as well, something was amiss with him. But he couldn't exactly burden Mickey with that. He was supposed to be the rescuer here, keeping the rescued victim calm was a pretty important part of that role.

He walked past Mickey to lead the way out; and felt slightly relieved…but it was only as he started walking that he realised his altered shaft was half-hard… must just be a random boner. Pretty awkward…

* * *

The journey progressed mostly in companionable silence, each man lost in their own thoughts; staccato conversations broke out as they each tried to pass the time, or got curious about something.

They avoided the elephant in the room though… Adrian had no idea how, or whether, to broach any questions about Mickey's alterations, even though he was intensely worried that maybe Mickey's experience would presage his own in some way. But Mickey seemed embarrassed and nervous whenever the topic was close to being addressed, and wasn't volunteering anything on his own.

How exactly did one ask questions about something like that, Adrian wondered. He was half tempted to explain his own, but their… intimate nature meant he didn't dare either. Maybe Mickey's had likewise started there, and that explained his nervousness..?

Or maybe it was too traumatic or weird for Mickey to be willing to talk. Or, or what, he had no idea, this wasn't a situation he ever expected to end up in!

But equally, Adrian was finding that he… didn't like his own reaction to these changes, or to Mickey.

He felt curious; worried, naturally, but curious, that was normal enough, right? But when he pondered it in any depth, well, his underpants started tightening. At first he thought it was just random chance, he didn't feel like there was anything erotic about someone clearly worried and sick, a complete stranger, a man. What part of that mix was appealing?!

But his changed member seemed not to have got that memo; it seemed, in fact, strangely detached from what he was thinking, reacting to a lot of his thoughts about Mickey as if they were erotic fantasies. Once he noticed the connection, became aware of it properly, he started trying not to think about it… but of course, trying not to think about something, meant it was always in his mind, hovering on the edge of awareness.

After a while, the repeated cycles of confusing stimulation with mundane voids in between was starting to make him feel irritated, on edge. Horny, but baffled at why.

As the day started drawing to a close, he even gave up on abstinence, taking a 'bathroom break' to try and rub one out, clear his head a bit. But as he started fantasising about the pretty young lady in the Ecology team, the one he was planning to ask out for drinks when he got back… well, his dick seemed to just give up, shrivelling back to flaccidity in his hand.

What the fuck was going on..?

Experimentally, and with a strange feeling of dread, he tried instead thinking about Mickey… and that started his dick swelling again. His new equipment was… really into Mickey for some reason…

He noticed the bumps on his cock from earlier were, maybe, a little larger… more sensitive… almost begging to be toyed with and stimulated… and yes, there were more rings of them hidden under where his bunched-up skin had been, about ten such rings of three lumps each down his member. When his dick was flaccid they were visible, but pretty well hidden. Erect, they protruded quite a bit more…

The skin was, if anything, even looser; in fact, he wasn't even sure it would fit over his shaft when flaccid, but now it wasn't even close, his shaft mostly bare, red, and exceedingly sensitive… his balls were clenched up painfully close to his body…

He took a deep breath, chickening out; stuffing his confused and confusing cock back into his pants, he continued the journey down the mountain slope, even deeper in thought than before. He hoped and needed a cure for this, whatever it was! He did not like this…

Finally, though, the sun was getting too low in the sky for them to continue; and he insisted that they stop in a cave, a little short of the forest's treeline.

With two of them, Adrian knew they'd better keep a watch rota through the night; and volunteered to go first, promising to wake Mickey around dawn so Adrian could get some sleep before they set off.

In the back of his mind, he'd already decided to just not bother sleeping; it would only be another four, maybe five hours' walk to get back to Astera, and he didn't want to leave their 'condition' unresolved for longer than necessary.

But he was still… distracted. Mickey seemed oblivious, or else lost in his own thoughts; the fire was built, and a quick meal cooked and eaten, in prolonged silence.

They chatted a little, small talk, before Adrian insisted Mickey try to sleep; and to help, he offered his half-finished sleeping draught; after all, if he stayed up all night and they rushed to Astera in the morning, Adrian wouldn't be needing it. Mickey accepted, and laid out on his bedroll to sleep.

Adrian was left alone with his thoughts; and he quickly realised that being alone like this, with his… confusing… state of mind, was not going to make for an easy night. His blueballed balls ached, and his dick seemed to be internally screaming at him to… well, act on it, though the nature of 'it' was quite obscure to him. The fantasies that usually span around his mind when he was horny were now a mood killer for his cock, somehow, and what got it going was thinking about things that were just bizarre..!

He settled, resolutely, by the cave entrance, and tried to think about something, anything, else…

* * *

Mickey moaned slightly in his sleep, and Adrian jumped, startled momentarily; he realised he'd almost fallen asleep himself, everything was so quiet and still out....

The full moon was already up, and the sun hadn't entirely set, though the shadows were long; so Adrian could still see pretty clearly. Was there a problem? He'd better check, maybe bank the fire up a little for light…

Sleepily, he moved closer to Mickey, and found himself sitting beside the sleeping man, having a strange sense that something was amiss. A problem? Something he'd forgotten? He couldn't put his finger on it…

It took him a moment to realise that his gaze was drawn to Mickey's crotch, and despite a flush rising in his cheeks, he couldn't quite look away!

Mickey's fly was unzipped; he must've left it undone by mistake. Adrian only realised it was open now because the fabric was parted slightly; a very clear mound had formed in the grey boxer shorts beneath, a rigid pole displacing the fabric.

Despite its size, it was still growing, he realised with horrified fascination! He couldn't quite tear his eyes away as Mickey's erection pulsed gently with the man's heartbeat, parting the fly of his pants more; he could see its unfamiliar, and inhuman, contours with surprising clarity through the thin fabric as it bulged outwards moment by moment.

What had drawn him here anyway at this precise moment, he wondered, realising uncomfortably that his own dick was stirring as well, in overeager sympathy.

Fucks' sake… it had a mind of its own, it was confusing, it was responding to all the wrong things today. He was supposed to be on watch… he definitely couldn't, shouldn't, didn't want to sit here staring at Mickey all night. Or even briefly! He had to look elsewhere, go back to the cave entrance, distract himself again.

Ignore this new interest his cock had developed rather than torment himself with it.

Yeah.

He found he wasn't quite able to turn his head though, whether tiredness, or fear of waking Mickey.

Or maybe even just simple horniness. He really wanted to get some relief, and he'd not been able to earlier, sexy fantasies had robbed him of that completion, and only new, weird fixations seemed to offer respite.

Maybe he should just get it over with, and go jerk off thinking about whatever his new dick wanted..?

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, maybe he wouldn't even need to think much when he was toying with those sensitive creases and lumps that had developed, just focus on the feeling, not… anything else. Just focus on feeling good, not on things like whether Mickey's rod looked or felt like Adrian's new equipment…

Ah fuck, he was rock hard again. What in the world was wrong with him, this was a guy. A sick guy too! Turning into a jagras because of some drug or poison the gajalakas had fed him… Hells, they must've done that to Adrian somehow as well, given what was happening to him, what other explanation could there be…

…but his swelling boner didn't seem to mind the reasoning. Damn it all, why was he even in here, this was just… making things worse!

He turned away, summoning some strength of will, and crawled slowly back towards the entrance… and almost yelled in alarm as stepped around the corner, and saw the familiar outline of a jagras sitting right where he'd been sitting on guard!

But he bit his tongue, realising there was no need to wake Mickey; in fact it was better he let the guy rest. The intruder was familiar. He couldn't quite put his finger on how he knew immediately that this was his tailraider, but he knew, without doubt, at a mere glance in the dim moonlight.

The wave of relief that this wasn't a hostile monster come to attack them, faded quickly though. He shouldn't let a jagras this close, not with Mickey in this condition… hell, he didn't want this extra hassle, with himself in this condition!

But, well… it was just the one. And it was just his tailraider. His tailraider was fine, right? It was Mickey's two jagras that were the problem, Mickey was just paranoid and anxious - understandably so, but still, over-cautious.

He grimaced though. His dick had been achingly hard, and despite the momentary shock, he found he was still just as hard, despite the distraction. With his new dick throbbing almost to the point of pain, it… confused his thinking a lot. Distracted him.

The tailraider moved closer, plodding quietly, and sitting on its haunches beside Adrian. It felt nice… companionable… so he shrugged to himself, and sat down beside it. He tried to ignore the insistent pressure in his groin, and having something else to think about… helped? It was helping, right?

…But Mickey would be pretty upset if he woke up and saw Adrian wasn't shooing the jagras away. Though, well, Mickey seemed pretty deeply asleep, and had even said he was quite a deep sleeper. Not to mention the sleeping draught… Mickey was surely down for the count… right?

Sometime… maybe later… he'd have to lead the tailraider off and find a way to tell it to stay. Maybe take a rope and tie it to a tree stump like a dog, or something? Loosely. That way it wouldn't be trapped there, not permanently or anything. Maybe it'd soon forget about following him and wander off back to its pack… yeah. Probably wouldn't even need to do anything else, just wait.

He wondered why he was rationalising all to himself… what he was trying to rationalise, he didn't even feel sure any more. He squeezed the bridge of his nose, rubbing his tired eyes, and sighed quietly; he was too tired and too damn worked up to keep track of all this any more.

His mind wandered back to the idea of maybe just sneaking off around the corner to try and jerk off again, clear his head… but as he looked up and saw the tailraider sitting next to him, he shuddered, the damn thing would just follow, and be watching, ugh.

…except that thought didn't make his dick any softer. If anything, it, er…

He shook his head, as if to deny the half-formed thought. What was the matter with him today..?

His attention snapped back to the tailraider as it leaned down towards him, what was it doing..?

It rubbed its snout against his chest, and almost on instinct he raised a hand to pet it. Even knowing in advance that they would be, he found the small spikes on the top of its head to be surprisingly soft… he'd not tried touching them before, he realised. In fact he'd not really touched the jagras at all, other than when strictly necessary, usually to shove it away from him.

He wondered idly why he'd not; the monster seemed surprisingly affectionate, perhaps it just enjoyed being petted? They were pack critters, so maybe it did just like the attention… and it felt nice. Companionable. Relaxing.

He moved his hand back, along the larger spikes along its spine; they were harder than the first ones he'd touched, but still quite soft. More like pliable feathers, or something.

He jumped with unpleasant surprise when its snout suddenly dipped, and it sniffed at his crotch. Oh damn, did it know? It, it probably did, they could hunt by scent, it's the whole reason he had the tailraider to track Mickey down - even though in the end, he'd not needed to track Mickey that way. But, well, it was just a monster, it's not like it, er, would judge him for being horny. No need to be embarrassed… But then he glanced down, and froze.

The jagras was fully erect!

Its dick was maybe 9 inches long, tapering to a tip. At the base, it was quite a bit thicker; bulging outwards slightly, but then below that, it sank into a horizontal slit, a break between the scales in the jagras' underside.

Adrian hadn't noticed the slit there before, but then, he wasn't looking that hard, he hadn't even been sure whether his jagras was male or female, even though he'd assumed male without really checking - or caring, for that matter. Maybe someone had mentioned it was a “he" at some point, he couldn't recall.

Something about the image was worryingly familiar, though.

Near the tip of its shaft, a series of almost barbed protrusions stuck out, three of them in a row around the circumference, but only on the underside of the rod; and the rows continued all down the length, getting steadily larger nearer the base, where the shaft was thicker.

Adrian assumed they must be reasonably soft rather than being as sharp as they seemed, or, how would jagras mating work..?

But he shook aside the strangely intrusive thoughts of how jagras mating worked; the creases, and lumps, on his own penis were, sort of, about the right spacing to match those thorny barbs!

That, at last, left him in little doubt. Whatever had happened to Mickey, it was starting to happen to him too… and it evidently wasn't some contagion from Mickey, it had started long before that… at least since earlier today, but then, he'd not exactly been looking out for signs of something like this. Maybe it'd been going on for days and he'd only noticed once it was undeniable and obvious…

…but he was getting too pent up to think clearly right now…

What would his cock feel like if he grew barbs like that, he wondered… would it hurt to rub the way he usually did? Would it feel better..?

Now that the thought was in Adrian's head he couldn't quite shake it out. His afflicted shaft was resolutely solid, thrilled at the thoughts and comparisons in his head, despite the rush of shock and fear and disgust.

But then he realised he was sitting here, the whole time staring at a monster's dick, and very erect himself!

His cheeks coloured; he tried to look away, but a sudden fear of waking Mickey forced him to move slowly as he tried to start disentangling himself from the situation. Ugh, just imagine trying to explain any of this..!

It definitely wasn't helping that his dick throbbed, leaking precum into his underwear. It was loving the sights around him, however ambivalent - or just plain horrified - they made the rest of him feel.

He realised the tailraider was staring at him too. Not at his groin though, and not just looking, like usual, but it seemed like it was trying to stare him dead in the eyes, intense and… and something. He could sense a definite something from it but couldn't tell what, and it was infuriating…

He realised his hand was still gripping the surprisingly soft spikes. He could use those to just lead it out into the forest, yeah, get it away from here, he was supposed to be on watch after all…

But he was frozen as it half-rose from its haunches, and half-turned to face him more fully… but then it was lying back, almost on its back, its flank and leg pressing against Adrian, with its tail laid out in front of it. The tailtip was quivering, like the jagras was agitated…

This position made its dick stand tall and proud too, and he stared, his mind shocked and unsure how to respond, his groin begging for more… he was paralysed by the contradictory responses from these different parts of his being, finding his instincts failing him. He found his breathing growing faster and shallower with some deep, strong emotion he couldn't place, while the jagras curled its back, leaning its long neck lower.

When it was halfway down, he realised that actually, with that much flexibility and that long a neck, it might actually be able to suck its own…

Then its snouttip met its cocktip, a tongue flicking out to lap at its spilled precum, and without any further hesitation it slid its cockflesh past its scaly teeth and into its maw, coiling that long forked tongue around itself.

He gasped and stared, mouth agape in grudging admiration… that was a trick he wouldn't mind being able to do, what man wouldn't want to give that a try..? But his dick quivered with a very different kind of admiration, and he realised that its unblinking, slitted eye was staring directly into his, meeting his gaze… and it was slurping, softly but gently on itself as it did it. It knew exactly what it was doing…

Adrian's cock was throbbing, harder than he could remember being in a long while, so hard his balls ached almost painfully.

Damn it… maybe he should just… give his dick what it wanted, and get it over with, this was getting… weird..? But, ugh, no, this was already too weird. He was sick just like Mickey, something was wrong with him!

The tailraider's body, inhuman or not, male or not, whether he was sane or not, was really doing something for Adrian's shaft; and he had no feeling or rationale for why or what all this was, not any more. His mind still felt abstractly disgusted and shocked, but it was getting so difficult to ignore how much his dick was egging him on, craving stimulation…

His grip on its back-spikes loosened, and he found his hand pressing lower into smooth, warm scales… and then rubbing, stroking over them, as if encouraging it, reassuring it. He couldn't tell why, but, it felt good… he couldn't quite bring himself to stop touching it, not even now…

He saw its tailtip flick vigorously, recognising it as a sign of excitement, not just agitation… and before he could stop himself, he was leaning closer to it, his arm sliding between its back-spikes, drawing their bodies close.

This was crazy, it was a monster, sucking itself off, why was he staying beside it… trying to hug it..? But his dick insisted he stay, demanded that he act…

He remained frozen for several long moments, maybe thirty seconds passing, as the jagras slurped at itself… then it began bobbing its head, first a little, then more and more vigorously. A faint hiss of satisfaction rustled through the air, and he felt it through its scales… and he couldn't help but start to fondle himself absent-mindedly through his pants, shivering at his member's sensitivity…

His erect shaft was increasingly uncomfortable in its cloth prison, and he shifted his position slightly as he tucked it back up under the waistband of his underpants, giving it a little room… and not entirely releasing his grip once that was done, no longer entirely fighting what his dick wanted, but shame-facedly starting to toy with the idea of indulging it…

As if taking notice of his arousal, the tailraider's pace sped, its whole body starting to gyrate as it dove down on itself, using his arm for leverage to push back against… he was helping it t-to…

…and he froze again, what was he doing, this, this was crazy, wasn't it..!

But he couldn't tear his gaze away as it grunted, its tailtip jerking wildly with its excitement, as its movements suddenly slowed again… no, just got smaller in magnitude, but the shorter movements were if anything more frantic…!

He felt its whole body tense, then relax, then tense again… the toes on its forepaws and hindpaws alike splaying and curling as it obviously, and with great pleasure, came into its own mouth. It gulped down a mouthful of fluid from itself, then another…

He was basically hugging a monster. While it was cumming. And, and… he was hard as a rock… what was wrong with him…! He ashamedly retreated his hand from fondling his own crotch through his pants, this was insane…

He was still staring into its eye, the one that was facing him, and he could see and almost feel its pleasure in that stare. But then a nictitating membrane slid over the eyeball, as close to blinking as a reptile could, and it uncurled from around its shaft, its tongue gently cleaning the exotic dick. The momentary connection was broken, and left Adrian feeling unfulfilled… needy. His body loved what had just happened, but his head was still far from being on the same page!

It turned its head, staring at him, rolling back to sitting on its haunches beside him, and moved its snout closer to nuzzle at his chest and belly. But then it raised its snout as if to lick at his face, as it had done sometimes before, and he recoiled in shock, almost falling backward, ending up pinned against the rocks by the cave entrance.

For a moment he could smell a strange, bitter, musky odour on its breath, that made his throat close up with horror, and his dick quiver with delight…

In the momentary hesitation its snout closed the distance and, far from simply licking his cheek, it instead met his lips; he was so confused at its actions he didn't even try to press his lips together before a strong forked tongue pushed in and rubbed over his clenched teeth; a strange, almost mint-like or menthol-like cooling sensation flooded his mouth, alongside a bitter, unpleasant taste.

In the frozen moment when he desperately held back the reflex to bite down on the intruder - the damn jagras would literally tear his face off if he did that! - and the instant before he raised his hands to its neck to push it urgently away from him, the tailraider made a low, grunting hiss, as if telling him something…

He felt its jaw clench. Suddenly, his mouth was filled with a rush of gooey, bitter fluid; he was startled, and stuck at this angle, it immediately fell to the back of his throat. Reflexively, he gagged, and coughed, swallowing some as he violently shoved the jagras aside. It stumbled a few paces downhill, nearly toppling over but just barely managing to stay upright.

Holy shit, it just spat its cum into his mouth?! He fought a wave of nausea, gagging and nearly choking, and desperately trying not to make any noise - he definitely couldn't let Mickey wake up now to see this!

The jagras hovered over him for a long moment, giving a strange, hissing croon that - he fancied - almost sounded contrite, before it bounded away down the mountainside, vanishing among the rocks. Adrian grabbed urgently at his water flask, swilling his mouth out and spitting, trying not to be sick - before wondering if he might actually prefer that to… having that stuff in him, urgh!

His mouth, his throat, his stomach, were all filled with that intense cooling sensation, and it rose in strength so much that it almost started to feel like it was burning him somehow from the inside out… The discomfort focused deep into his jaw and his face and his throat… and he felt his bones creak, joints pop, his flesh tingling… but then it didn't feel exactly uncomfortable, if anything it felt good… really strangely good…

The sensation seemed to pool rapidly in his belly, and then lower, around his groin. He felt his dick shiver with the chilling sensation, but somehow it felt great down there… urgh, what was happening?!

He grabbed at his leather chest-protector, swiftly pulling it free, then at his shirt and pants, almost tearing them open as he alternately shivered and sweated, unable to tell any more if he was burning up or freezing.

All he knew was that something very strange was happening to his belly, his dick, his balls…pulling his underwear down, he gasped as he caught sight of his groin.

His still mostly human dick, freed, sprung up into the open, a string of precum dripping from the glans; but he could see the skin that had been around his dick was writhing, discolouring further… changing, even as he watched! It shrank back, exposing more of the base of the shaft, and he writhed in momentary discomfort as one of those lower nubs caught for a moment on the retreating skin… it felt, and looked, a lot more defined than it had been..?

He groaned as his dick seemed to lengthen, thicken; the nubs more overtly turning to resemble the jagras-barbs he'd just seen. In fact, his whole dick was starting rapidly to resemble the one that his tailraider had sported!

His member was growing, he was already fully erect but it was somehow growing..! His dick throbbed, the intense stimulation - and a day and night of denial - meant he was astonishingly close to the edge, even without touching himself…

He could feel the nausea intensifying, and his stomach kept spasming as if he was about to vomit; but it felt wrong as well, more like a hiccup. He felt terrible… yet, despite that, with all the stimulation to his dick now, the unfulfilled horniness all day, his member was demanding its purpose be fulfilled with growing insistence!

For a long moment he tried desperately to restrain an orgasm; but even as he fought it he could sense that he wanted it, needed it, fighting it was almost a literal pain! He'd been so worked up for so long he just wanted the relief, not even for the pleasure any more…

That surrender at last brought some relief from the discomfort, even the embarrassment… He felt the pleasure surge… another pulse of clear fluid, more forceful, and then irresistibly he slid over that metaphorical precipice.

His balls tightened and pressed so close into his groin that they felt like they might literally pop from the pressure… and finally, then, he grabbed at his length, barely even brushing against the new barbs as he started stroking frantically.

The intense but strangely pleasing chill around his groin seeming to surge alongside as he peaked, washing over him in waves, and he felt his testicles sink into his body, the warm embrace of his inner flesh suddenly surrounding them as cum started spurting from his changed shaft, and he writhed helplessly with the incredible power and intensity of the feeling, stronger than any he could remember..!

He felt like he should panic, but it was impossible to think of anything else amidst the mind-blowing relief, his head pounding with an adrenaline-powered headache where every muscle spasm seemed to squeeze his temples like a vice…

…Yet still it seemed all too soon that his dick stopped its pulsing, cum dripping from him into a puddle on the ground, releasing him from the helpless throes of pleasure, and from the sense of awful, confused horniness.

Yet he didn't feel exactly satisfied either… this felt more like… just half an orgasm somehow, like it was interrupted, or something. He felt worn out, he could feel the same familiar afterglow; but he also felt strangely unfulfilled. The horniness dialled down a notch, but not really gone, or even close to it.

Probably because it wasn't for pleasure, as such, it was just mixed in with the… well, whatever had just happened! His dick, hell his whole body, felt sore, abused; and it was turning flaccid far faster than seemed normal… and the sensation was impossible to interpret, his groin felt all wrong!

That was enough to restore some semblance of sanity. He looked down at his groin again, this time more analytically, trying to work out what had become of it… but feeling fairly sure he knew.

His groin was now entirely inhuman. The skin was not simply discoloured, it was vibrantly colourful now; a forest-green stain on the inside of his thigh, while the skin from just below his navel to below his perineum and out of sight below that, was a paler, almost yellowy-green.

There was no point looking for alternative explanations at this point; whatever transformation had affected Mickey, was affecting him too. These were jagras-colours, camouflage in the forest domains. His dick was that of a jagras, but smaller; no sign of the loose folds of skin that had hung around it earlier, now it was simply bare, reddish-purple flesh, its base hidden in a familiar-looking slit between his legs.

Of his testicles, there was no visible sign; he could feel them inside him somehow, and it felt wrong, but not uncomfortable…

It wasn't his groin. Not any more!

He shivered as his deflating dick seemed to retract, more than just deflate, and withdrew into the slit, leaving it feel strangely snug, but almost invisible… he reached down to touch the skin, and snatched his hand away as if burned when he felt the familiar feel of scales.

Guiltily he rolled some rocks over the patch of cum on the ground, hiding it; Mickey wouldn't notice, right? They'd have to walk right past it on the way out tomorrow but, it'd be hidden, safely, away…

For a strange moment he imagined Mickey noticing, and giving him a knowing look, saying nothing, not judging but…

This time, not quite like the last times… well, thinking of Mickey… he still didn't quite get it. But he could sort of see how… in some ways… that might be sexy. Appealing… desirable…

He realised suddenly that the shock and horror of what the tailraider had done to him had… well, abated, mostly. He shuddered, still feeling horrified at the recollection, but the raw vomit-inducing revulsion just… wasn't there any more.

He shook his head, the thought frightening him. It was like his head had started catching up with his dick somehow… he didn't recognise that momentary desire, but as he tried to examine it, the thought just slipped away and left him confused at whether he'd even thought it at all.

But something else was there now. Hovering around in his brain.

He scratched at his itching chin, with a half-sigh, puzzling over what was happening… and belatedly realised he couldn't feel stubble there any more, but he'd surely had three days of growth there earlier..? How much more of him might have changed…?

It was only as he thought that, that he suddenly remembered Mickey saying that just being near to his two jagras companions had caused, or at least worsened, Mickey's affliction. Something the gajalakas had done to them, perhaps, rather than Mickey?

Obviously his tailraider was in that same category. He'd made a mistake, not taken the possibility seriously enough. Maybe any jagras was trouble after all.

He'd not make that error again… that was why he was on watch, after all. Some guard he turned out to be…

The thought suddenly struck him, was that what had happened to Mickey? “Close contact" made it worse, he'd said; had Mickey's tailraiders done the same thing to him, with him?

Sex?

It sure qualified as close contact, and… well… He shuddered with renewed horror, but his flaccid dick stirred at the same time, and he felt a good deal more ambivalent at the mental image than he expected to.

Ugh… this was going to be a long and difficult night.