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[b][u][center]The Dancing Frog[/center][/u][/b]

[b][u][center]For Rayoelgatubelo[/center][/u][/b]

[b][u][center]By Draconicon[/center][/u][/b]

Atop one of the great palaces of the Mayans, Casaquir, prince of his people, sat waiting for his present. It was not the first time that he had spent an hour or more waiting, but it was the first time that he had done it in good graces. Mostly, that was due to the fact that his mother was the one delaying him, and he both feared and respected her to too great a degree to let his feelings get the better of him.

Still, the great feline didn’t like waiting. As his human subjects watched, he leaned back on his throne, dark fur shimmering in the line after its morning grooming, and he leaned on one paw in annoyance as the human slaves on either side hesitated in their fanning motions.

“Continue,” he ordered, and they did.

For minutes more, he waited, until he heard the soft click, click, click of the sound of his mother’s footpaws coming up the great steps outside the room. He didn’t move, nor did he speak. The Mayans beneath him would have heard their goddess coming, just as he had.

He did, however, sit up before his mother poked her head into the room, making sure to present himself as the prince he was instead of the spoiled boy that she occasionally accused him of being. The spotted jaguar came into view just a moment later, and behind her, wearing a huipil and nothing else, came a young woman of rather exotic persuasion, slightly lighter than the rest of the people gathered before him, yet not pale enough to match the tales of men far away from them.

Casaquir sat up a bit straighter on his throne, his head cocked to the side as he looked the human over. He did not recognize her, nor did he see anything to her that intrigued him. He looked from her to his mother again, and the great Xu’maneem chuckled.

“You will see, son. Now, girl. Dance for him.”

The queen stepped to the side, joining with the human slaves that they had gathered from across their realm for his birthday. The woman seemed unimpressed by him, though she bowed with sufficient respect, and her body, bare as it was beneath the waist - and barely covered by the huipil - moved with grace that made him curious. Curious, and intrigued, particularly as she stood up with a hint of a shine on her face that hadn’t been there before.

“Great one, allow me to dance for you.”

“Then dance for me.”

He gestured, and she began to move, her hips swaying slowly and her chest thrust forward in the way of the woman looking to attract a mate. His ears twitched, and his tail likewise as he watched her move side to side. Her bare feet stroked the stone in a way that carried her forward without walking, and yet threw more motion into her hips, allowing them to swing around as if they were the center of her universe.

As she walked, he saw the changes beginning, and wondered how he could have missed them before. Casaquir grinned, throwing a hint of that smile towards his mother before looking back at the woman. She was no mere human, but one of the high ones, like himself and his mother.

She continued her slow swaying, reaching her hands up to her huipil and slowly guiding it up her neck and then over her head. It was a gentle, soft movement that carried with it a great deal of her humanity. As it left her, her skin was left shining as if she had been oiled, but he could see the difference. A soft blue was replacing the deeper darkness of her skin, and as it spread, it carried that shine with it. He chuckled, rubbing his hands together out of sheer glee as he recognized what his present was.

The poison people, as some would call them, were a danger to almost any that lived. Even the ‘gods’ such as himself and his mother would be affected by the toxins that came from their bodies, particularly with their steady diet of the deadly things of the world. But while he and his mother would only become intoxicated, high on the fumes and the chemicals, humans would die on contact with them.

The human slaves were gasping, staring, and he knew that more than a few of them wished to leave. But they wouldn’t. They would not anger their gods by such a cruel and rude reaction to their guest.

Casaquir leaned forward on his throne, his shaft starting to rise free of his sheath at the sight of the woman transforming. Her head was already losing the hair upon it, the shine spreading across swelling cheeks and softening lips. More and more, his excitement began to rise, and his loincloth with it.

He reached down and teased it as the woman’s blue tint spread down her neck and over her breasts. They might have shrunk, but if so, it was only slightly. She was not the most well-endowed of women to begin with, and she was still chesty enough for his purposes. Casaquir smiled at her, nodding his approval as she moved still closer.

She had taken off her clothing entirely by the time she stood at the base of the steps leading to his throne, and she paused there, turning in place in a dance that was as slow as it was elegant. There were none of the sudden darts from one place to another as would have been the case with her animalistic cousins, nor were there any of the dangerous flits of motion that might have meant death to a more mortal person. No, she turned, and slid, almost as if the slime upon her skin was letting her slide through the air as well as across the ground.

She lowered herself to her knees, her head falling forward, and then flipping back. Her eyes had grown, larger and clearer and making her look more vulnerable, more...adorable, if such a thing were possible. Casaquir groaned, shaking his head a few times as his cock continued to throb, begging for the touch of the strange woman, but he held back. For now. He didn’t know how, but he did.

Bit by bit, the transformation reached down her legs, making them more and more slender, while keeping her core curvy and rounded. There was a swelling down at her feet as they extended, and a slight nub grew out just above her rump, but that was all. That was all, and it was perfect.

The woman turned her body as she stood again, her hands running down her slippery curves, touching herself and rubbing along her hips, her stomach, and then back up to her chest. There was the slightest of squelching sounds that his ears picked up, knowing her fingers were running through the slime that coated her body, gathering it up.

She groped herself, squeezing her chest with such firmness that he was surprised that she didn’t injure herself. As she did, she moaned, her soft sounds laced with the hint of a croak under it, but in a way that made it throaty, rather than annoying.

She looked up at him, and smiled.

“Will the great one of Amaqui come to me?”

“I will cum in you, woman.”

“You will bless me, then.”

She chuckled, turning her body around, and when she turned back to him, he saw that her tongue had been let free. No longer human, but long and impossibly stretchy, it ran down between her breasts and then along her body, curving around her body until it had circled her three times around. It pressed down between her legs, running right over her sex, and she moaned as she arched her back.

All around them, the humans of his kingdom were shivering, and he saw more than a few loincloths had risen at her show. Deadly skin or not, they were tempted, and he knew that he was tempted as well.

Casaquir stood from his throne, walking down the steps slowly. As he did, the woman turned to face him again. She had changed drastically from her human form, and not just in color and face. Her limbs, both arms and legs, were longer and more slender than any human’s could have been, with a strangeness and reach to them that made him wonder just how she could hold onto anything. Her tongue flicked up and over, running down her back, and as she gasped, he wondered if she was pressing it to her other hole.

The frog woman stepped forward, her poisonous skin nearly brushing his, held back by less than an inch. Her tongue flipped back to her mouth, and she chuckled.

“Will you lay with me, great one?”

“Lay?”

He chuckled, and took her hand. Instantly, the heady feeling of the chemicals running along her body hit him, and he felt himself getting more floaty. His heart beat almost painfully fast, slamming into his ribs, and he gasped for breath as he felt the heat settling into his body, making everything throb, and burn, becoming more sensitive than anything.

The world changed, too, with the many human slaves about warping in his perception, becoming distorted, strange versions of themselves. The throne room itself became this strange thing, gray and boring and dull, but one thing remained the same.

Her.

He pulled her close, smearing more of her poison on himself as he growled in lust. He bore her to the ground, pushing her head to the stone beneath. The world swam beneath him, but she remained still, lifting her hips for him to grab, offering her sex for him to fill.

And he did.

Casaquir groaned as he slid forward, feeling his balance fading, his world shifting as the painful and hallucinogenic effects of the frog hit him as hard as they did. She was moaning - or screaming - beneath him, and he was growling as he started slamming into her. Harder, faster, deeper, each one taking him closer and closer to the edge.

The hard rut of the frog was witnessed by the closest of his slaves, and he barely noticed it. He knew that his mother was watching, and forgot about it almost as soon as he thought about it. There was nothing else to think about, but one.

The frog under him.

Her pussy.

Her need.

He growled as he slumped forward over her, humping faster even as the world faded into dreams, and the dreams were filled with sex.

[b][u][center]The End[/center][/u][/b]