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Digital Dragons For DrakeHavok By Draconicon

This would be the last time that he combined a night of binge-reading with a night of jerking off to other people's writing. He swore it, and he meant it. He hoped.

Draconicon groaned as he pulled himself to his feet, making use of the back of the tube he was in to support him. It wasn't the most comfortable to his wings, of course, but with some sort of drug still going through his system, he needed something to keep him on his feet. The black dragon was surprised that the top of the tube still loomed so far over him; most of them were measured for normal people, rather than seven foot tall dragons, so someone obviously had come prepared.

Okay, what are we dealing with? the dragon thought. He lifted his hand, trying to summon a small amount of magic. When that didn't work, he kept pulling and tensing his magical muscles until he reached the point where it was starting to hurt. Then, reluctantly, he stopped.

So, there was anti-magic stuff in the tube. That limited the number of possibilities to a very small, very negative list. Not good.

"Hello? Hello, I don't suppose there's a possibility I can get out of here?"

"Draconicon. Mage. Writer. Potion maker. Dragon. This is you. Confirm?"

"Uh..."

"Failure to confirm will result in removal of memories and re-purposing."

"Uh, I guess it's me, yes."

"Confirmation achieved. Please remain still and relaxed. You are to be temporarily re-designed as a superior robotic version of yourself. It will be pain free and you will be turned back to your original self at the end of the project."

"Why don't I believe you?"

"Belief does not compute. Beginning treatment."

"Wait, I didn't -"

Whoever was behind this didn't give him a chance to protest. As soon as it stopped, the walls of the tube flashed, and the top suddenly opened with a whoosh. Wires and needles came swooping down, moving on some sort of segmented machinery, and attacked his arms and neck with the speed of a striking cobra.

Draconicon grabbed for them, swatting them away, but it was difficult to get at them. There were so many, and wherever the needles managed to prick at him, they left the area numb. It wasn't so bad for one of them, but with dozens coming down -

Hisssssss!

"Oh, come on!"

The dragon leaped upwards as the ground opened up in little holes beneath him, a gas starting to flood out. He pressed his feet against the sides of the tube, holding them flat against it as he kept trying to fight off the wires and needles, and he held his breath.

It turned out that he wasn't the target. The gas flooded up into his robe, and in short order the black fabric started disintegrating, falling apart and dropping in ragged shreds to the bottom of the tube. More and more of his body was exposed, and the wires came faster and faster.

What is this? How are they this well-prepared?

His arms were slowing down, leaving him less and less able to strike, until they went went completely numb. A few more after that, and his arms were 'dead,' unable to move, unable to do anything.

In a last ditch attempt, he threw himself back to the bottom of the tube, but the wires were too long. They followed him, and this time, they didn't stop until he was numb from head to toes, the needles piercing through his scales at his neck and shoulders, his chest, his stomach, his hips, even -

"If I wasn't numb, that would make me very upset," he muttered.

The wires withdrew, leaving him slumped over, unable to even kick anymore. More mechanical arms reached down after that, grabbing him around his waist, his upper arms, and around his legs. They lifted him up, holding him spread-eagled, and left him 'floating' in the middle of the tube, almost like he was on display.

Other mechanical arms followed, these ones tipped with larger ends. Not needles, but not some of the sexier tentacles that he'd seen in situations like this, either. They seemed to be some sort of emitter, and they latched onto his shoulders, the base of his tail, the sole of each foot, and -

"Mmmph!"

The head of his dick. He groaned as he felt some pressure on his cockhead, but nothing else. The arms pressed tight to their spots, and then tugged backwards until they were sucking at his scales a bit, pulling it back with some sort of tension, or in the case of his cock, pulling and stretching it out as far as it would go.

Then...well, things got weird.

Draconicon stared down at his cock as red lines started running down his cock, going straight forward before splitting into diagonals or ninety degree turns, only to point straight down again afterwards. It had some sort of tingle going on with it, gradually taking it further and further down his cock, and lighting up brighter than neon. He shook his head, hardly believing what he was seeing, even as the tingle reached down to his balls and the base of his cock. Even when metal began to take the place of scales.

"Holy..."

He couldn't finish the sentence as he watched thin metal plates pop down his cock, almost like extending layers of armor forming a comic book suit. Each half-inch long layer clicked into place between the red lines, then extended another, and another. Despite the strangeness of it, he could feel some sort of stimulation coming back. Dangerously good stimulation.

Biting back a moan, he turned his head, only to see the same things happening at his shoulders. Thicker, heavier plates of metal ran down his arms, making him look more muscular and bulkier than he was, but before they extended, he kept seeing flashes of something else. Wires, cords, rather than flesh and blood and muscles. He stared at it as it kept spreading, shaking his head rapidly.

The metal spread down his chest, two small plates forming around his collarbone before suddenly unfolding two much larger ones to cover his pecs. Down, down it went, the metal self-replicating as it went, covering him more fully and changing his scales to something else.

The numbness was wearing off, but he could tell that wasn't a mistake. He felt a soft, searing heat every time that the plates came down, and he knew that he was losing his scales and his more biological parts. This was FAR from temporary. This was not temporary at all, if they were taking all that away.

"Please remain still while your voicebox is adjusted."

"Oh, no..."

He could vaguely feel the metal running up the sides of his neck, but worse, he could feel the coolness of it running down the inside of his throat, as well. It was spreading into his chest cavity and had already covered his neck, and he groaned, hearing his voice modulate, shifting to a deeper, more echoey tone...and very mechanized.

" This is...no...ugh...Stop...stOP. STOP THIS AT ONCE."

There was no emotion or inflection in it anymore. Instead, there was only the robotic tones of the most monotone food service worker in a drivethrough. He shuddered at the idea of sounding like that.

Then he jerked as the little transforming arm at his cock let go. It dropped down, shifting to another location, and he could take a good look at his new shaft.

It was completely made of metal and light, the sides pulsing with 'data' running from the tip of his cock to the rest of his body. The head of it looked like it had been evened out with the rest of the shaft, and the metal had been smoothed out enough to actually thrust into things. However, the tip felt...strange. Like...

He stared with wide eyes as several tools shot out of the tip in rapid succession, like different uplink types. USB, HDMI, and other connections that he didn't recognize at all. What the fuck?!

With so much of him changed, the rest of the changes seemed to happen faster and faster. His balls were contained inside of a steel ball, looking like a simple bulge under his new, mechanized cock. His ass cheeks were shifted from scales and muscle and fat to some sort of smart gel, glowing around a hole that could no longer be concealed. He felt the tendril that changed that, shifting it from flesh to some sort of adjustable rubber and silicone, with some knob on his hip. When the machines twisted it, he swore it was adjusting the tightness.

His tail and wings shifted faster than anything, with the membrane of his wings becoming plate metal and a part of the base lifting up to form a jetpack. His tail split into dozens of small segments, able to move in so many more different directions.

As his legs and arms were covered in armored metal, his hands and feet were altered to be something different, more mobile and capable. His hands were given temperature adjustors, able to warm and chill at need, while the bottoms of his feet turned into something like latex, yet...somehow capable of oozing out some sort of fluid through micropores.

And then...the wires touched his head, and he blacked out.

He woke up with a click, and his vision fuzzed with static before it cleared. The tube wasn't there anymore, but scanners - scanners? - located several spots on the floor where it would have disappeared to. Whirrs and clanks followed as the dragon-bot took two steps forward, feeling many more vibrations through its soles - its? - and could feel many things, like where other robots were being made, and where other prisoners were being converted.

"Dragon-bot B14CK. Report to the Master Unit."

Some part of its old mind fought the command, but the dragon-bot walked off. Following many corridors, it found its way towards the command center. It opened the door, and recognized the Master Unit immediately.

" HAVOK. IT UNDERSTANDS NOW."

"Turn and prepare rear port for diagnostics."

The black dragon-bot had no choice, turning around and doing as it was commanded. As it did, the white dragon-bot walked over, and slowly turned the knob on its side. There was a feeling of immense tightness building up between its asscheeks before a metal rod slid inside.

The End