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Kevlar purred, the horses rocking his carriage, admiring the strange green crystal again. Once he got into a proper city - Galiley, perhaps, or New Kelper - he would be a sensation. A little word here, a little word there, and these bedazzling beauties would pass through his finger like water. It might even mean that he wouldn't have to travel so much. He did so hate travelling: between the mud, the horses, and the hired men every day was a dirty, stinking trial. The awful provincial inns weren't much better; they always fell short when it came to comfort, or even - he thought - the simplest of things: having walls that didn't seem to be designed for eavesdropping.

Travelling did come with some benefits, Kevlar thought, his fat fingers rolling the crystal around like a die in his hands. The juiciest plums were always in the far-flung corners of the world, and he'd just lucked right into the ripe seasonal fruit of the moment. All the ladies would be fawning over him, wondering if they could get a little bit more than their friend, or perhaps something bigger. Why, he'd have to get a bigger store...

Caught up in his imagination, Kevlar barely noticed the thin trickle of blood. The crystal's sharp edges had cut into his thumb, bathing in the red fluid that dripped from the gash. The small wound throbbed, but he simply moved the crystal into his other hand, pressing the cut thumb to his lips. Kevlar had not been much for the rough meats adored by most men of his stature, but as the blood trickled over his tongue and lips, he started to feel slightly hungry.

Licking his lips, Kevlar leaned over to peer from the carriage. They were still out in the middle of nowhere, the carriage train jostling along. His wasn't the largest or most comfortable of carriages, but it was private, and either he wouldn't have to travel much any more, with some luck, or he'd be able to do so in even more style. His copious stomach rumbled again.

Scratching at his neck, Kevlar looked out at the guards flanking his carriage. Hungry thoughts returned, and he licked his bloody lips. Wrapping his wounded finger in a silk kerchief - a necessary hazard - he looked out at the one serious guard on the back of the grey mare. He was certainly common, Kevlar thought, but he had a taste for common folk. Most of his associates had a taste for the younger things; boys or girls, sometimes of dubiously low ages. Kevlar, however, wasn't much of a fan of the "fine cuts"; he'd always go after the juiciest hunks of flesh when he wanted entertaining. It was normally suicide to mix business with pleasure, but of all of the grunting thugs he had working for him, there was a reason this one rode so close to his carriage.

Sliding open the carriage window, Kevlar waved the bloody kerchief at the guard, waiting for him to notice. "Hello? You there! Guard!" He wasn't offended when he wasn't answered right away; after all, the man at least tried to do a good job, which meant looking around him for dangers. His personal whims were a priority, but after keeping his body safe. "Hello! Yes, you!"

"Yes, sir?" Ah! That wonderfully dull, deep voice! How many times, Kevlar thought, had he had someone like that in his bedchambers? The cities ended up collecting the younger sons of farmers and blacksmiths like so many balls of dust; the virile sons of virile men who were always so wonderfully naive, at least for those first few days. Sometimes they were virgins; Kevlar imagined this handsome guard probably wasn't one, but everything was going so well for him there was bound to be something disappointing.

Kevlar ran his tongue over his plump lips. "I'd like some company for a while. Come and join me in my carriage."

The guard's forehead wrinkled. Kevlar hadn't done anything on this trip, but men talked and words travelled easily on the street. It was possible this guard was nervous of stories of Kevlar's indiscretions, nervous about what the other guards might think, or just worried about having to talk to the wealthy man paying his wages. "I'm sorry, sir, but, uh, someone needs to ride on this side an eye out for danger."

Kevlar waved his hand dismissively. He looked into the guard's eyes and squinted. "There could be dangers in here that nobody is watching out for."

The guard's mouth hung open. "Oh, but sir, we checked the carriage before we left! Anyway, I'm not in charge, sir. Derrick is. I can, uh, I think I can go and get him if you want someone to talk to."

Kevlar snorted. He didn't mind Derrick; the man was reliable and things usually went without much of a fuss when he hired him. However, he was one of those brash men who enjoyed the company of other men, but not in the way that Kevlar preferred. "If I had wanted Derrick," Kevlar responded, "I would have asked you to go get him. Did I ask you to do that?"

The confused expression returned. One thing Kevlar liked about having people in your employ was just how easy it seemed to set them off-guard. "W-well, I... I should ask Derrick, sir. Just in case; he'll tear my, uh, he'll be very angry if I move from my assigned position."

"You go do that." Kevlar left the carriage window upon, sitting back as he watch the guard ride away. He purred, returning to look at the beautiful green jewel. All the irritation at having to deal with simple men, seemed to fade away as he made the light flicker through the various surfaces. He licked his thumb again; the small wound was still there, though the blood had begun to dry over it.

Kevlar scratched his belly, and looked around the carriage. He frowned, using his spare hand and feet to shift things around. The carriage was only designed for two people: namely an averagely-sized man and a much smaller woman, not a rotund merchant and a burly guard in armour. It was going to be a tight fit. Kevlar grinned; that would make things much easier.

Through the open window, he heard voices carried through the air. He peeked out, turning in the direction the guard had ridden; he was beside Derrick, gesturing and arguing. The guard shrugged, and Derrick started pointing. The guard shrank away from him, sliding off his horse. He ran after the carriage, as another guard climbed off of the cart onto the horse, presumably to take the original guard's post. Derrick whistled. Seeing that he was going to get what he want, Kevlar's mouth sank into a smug grin.

"Everything fine?" Kevlar inquired as the guard panted, running up to the carriage as it shuddered to a halt.

"Oh, uh, yes sir," the guard answered, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "Derrick just assigned a new guard." Kevlar leaned forward, unlocking and pushing open the door for the panting guard, who paused. Kevlar beckoned him in; the guard stood on the step and stumbled into the carriage.

The smile the guard had was fake as he squeezed into the seat; Kevlar returned it with one that was genuine, if a little predatory. He swung the carriage door closed, shutting the window. The carriage jostled as the horses started moving again, and the wheels creaked. "You can put that away," Kevlar said, gesturing at the guard's sword. "I doubt there's any hidden assassins or thieves in here."

"But I don't, uh, of course, sir, but then why..." The poor guard's face seemed to writhe with a thousand held-back questions. Still, he slowly returned the sword to his scabard.

"What's your name, young man?" Kevlar asked, scratching at the dimple on his chin with a finger. The rest were clutched around the crystal. It seemed to almost be whispering to him, his head pulsing with energy as he got to freely admire the young guard's strong, firm body. He smelled of sweat and horse and armour; on their own, he would have been disgusted, but as Kevlar licked his lips again, he decided the combination was intensely alluring.

"Arturus, sir," the guard said, pulling off his helmet. Kevlar watched as dust and dried skin sloughed off into the air, and Arturus's very short hair bristled sweatily. It always disappointed Kevlar when his young men cut their hair short; it was always fun to run his fingers through some long, flowing locks. Then again, he thought, long hair would have been all gross underneath a helment.

"Well, Arturus," Kevlar explained, his eyes almost glowing as he squeezed the crystal tightly, "sometimes we need protecting from being alone. Have you ever felt that before?"

"Not really, sir," Arturus answered, shifting away as Kevlar's plump body invaded his space. His face was red with embarrassment, and he tried to stare straight ahead whenever possible. "I've not been alone a lot."

"Did you come from a big family?" The crystal bit into Kevlar's hand, which started to throb. He ignored it, instead choosing to bring his other hand to rest on Arturus's back. He leaned over, as if to listen better.

"Yes, sir, a lot of brothers and sisters." Arturus smiled genuinely for a moment. Kevlar decided that he must be thinking of them, possibly even missing them. Missing family had never been much of a factor for Kevlar, but he certainly knew of the principle. "Working for Derrick keeps me with the other men a lot when we're on a job, so that's kind of like a second family when I'm away from home."

"Do you still live with your family, then?" Kevlar asked, pleased that he was the one in control, asking questions. For some reason, he really wanted to control Arturus; odd, because when Kevlar wanted fun, usually he wanted to be on the receiving end. Now he just wanted to look Arturus square in the eyes, convinced that if he could, then the young man would be far more malleable. Although he had thawed a bit, Arturus was still nervous and uncomfortable. Kevlar could taste that for himself in the cabin air. He followed it up with a probing voice and tented eyebrows. "Or perhaps you've moved out?"

Arturus wasn't completely naive; he knew what Kevlar was asking about. Kevlar felt the young man relax more, even though he blushed further. "Oh, well, I have been walking out with a lovely girl, Felice her name is, but her father is very strict, and I'm away from home a lot, so..."

Kevlar tuned out all the talk about Felice, scratching at the back of his hand, his skin feeling dry and somewhat confining. The two tips of his tongue, changing without Kevlar's knowledge, flicked out. He didn't particularly care about anyone else that was interested in Arturus's body. His little woman could have him, but only after he had picked this particular piece of fruit for himself.

"Arturus?" Kevlar whispered, reaching up to deposit the word right into his ear, so it could worm into his head. His hand moved gently along Arturus's broad, muscular back. "Would you look me in the eyes, please? It's quite rude not to."

"Oh, uh, yes sir!" Arturus turned. Kevlar caught his big, dull brown eyes, and felt an odd power throb through his head. His eyes watered as he met Arturus's gaze, watching as the small amount of thinking that was going on in Arturus's head flickered like a moth pestering a lantern during the dark hours.

Kevlar grinned, his smile broadening slightly. Like most men of his type, he preferred to keep out of the sun, so his skin was quite pale. It had gone ghostly, with dark sinewy shadows appearing underneath. It contorted around his face, pushing outwards as the energy flowed from his mind via his eyes into Arturus's form.

Arturus's own eyes drooped, along with the muscles in his face. He didn't answer, though his jaw had dropped open. He grunted, drool trickling from his mouth as he looked into Kevlar's face. "What... what do... do you want... sir?" The words were almost solid as they clunked out of Arturus's mouth.

"First," Kevlar suggested, reluctantly placing the crystal on one of the boxes. "I think you ought to get out of your armour. You'll be a lot more comfortable. In fact, why don't you just go and remove everything you're wearing." He rubbed his hands together with glee. The pale skin on them tore, clinging to his body like eerie flesh gloves. At the wrist, a dark green line of scales showed through, the edges of the skin tearing and sloughing off as he moved his hands on to Arturus's body; the guard didn't say a word about it.

"Yes, m-yes sir," Arturus answered in the detached, dull tone that had consumed his voice. He fidgeted and squirmed; Kevlar helped him, taking the opportunity to caress the firm, strong muscles as they slipped out of the armour. Even though Arturus was young, his body was large and surprisingly hairy. Kevlar decided that it almost make up for the lack of it on his head, and once the top pieces had been unfastened and Arturus could remove the rest on his own, Kevlar entertained himself by rubbing the increasingly worn skin of his hands off on the lean, strong body, scales and sharp talons appearing.

Arturus stood up - as much as he could in the cramped, moving carriage - and unlaced his briefs. Kevlar watched this with half his mind; the other half was focused on making sure the crystal stayed where he had left it. Arturus's buttocks popped out in front of his face, hairy and wonderfully musky from hours of riding. Kevlar's forked tongue flicked into the air, stretching out of his expanding muzzle.

Feeling uncomfortable in his own clothing, Kevlar waited until Arturus had worked his feet out of his boots. "That's good, Arturus. What I would really enjoy is if you were to take off my clothes. Tear them off, there's a good lad. Yes, they are so very uncomfortable, and you are so very strong. I imagine it would be very easy of you to do." The power that Kevlar had used on Arturus had remained, but weakened until it was almost gone. As he made the suggestion it flared back, not as bright as it had been, but still very potent in Kevlar's mind. "It's like tugging on the leash of a dog," he thought.

Arturus grunted, "Yes, sir." He turned, giving Kevlar a good view of the big, thick stuff swinging between his legs. Kevlar's heart raced as Arturus's large hands reached for the fabric of his expensive tunic. He moaned in anticipation, watching the cords of muscle in Arturus's arms flex, shrieking a little as the pale, tearing skin of his chest was exposed. His body felt so tingly and rough, and his clothes confining; not because he was necessarily growing larger, but because he didn't seem to feel as though they fit him any more.

Kevlar's pants proved trickier for Arturus to tear through, so Kevlar gave him a reprieve. "You can just slip those off," he suggested, "and while you're at it, why not think about how very attractive - sexually attractive - you find me. Oh! Yes, and don't call me sir, that's far too ordinary. Call me master, slave!"

"Yes... master..." Arturus ripped and struggled with the laces of Kevlar's pants, fumbling but clearly intent on doing the command. Kevlar squirmed in delight; his insides seemed to churn pleasantly. He watched as Arturus's thick club reddened as it grew even larger. Arturus's breath had been slow once he had come under Kevlar's power, but now it seemed almost like he wasn't breathing at all, then would breathe in so deep his body seemed to double in size.

"The crystal!" Kevlar remembered. His strangely reptilian face suddenly went cold, and he quickly looked over. He breathed a sigh of relief: in all of Arturus's fumblings, he hadn't knocked it off from were Kevlar had put it. Kevlar reached over, grabbing for it as a sudden jolt rocked the carriage. He felt himself fall, hearing a large tearing sound as he did so.

Kevlar fell everywhere, or so it felt. Clutching the green crystal to his chest, he turned his head down. The skin of his once plump body had torn apart in the middle, revealing long, lithe, scaly coils in its place. It was such an odd experience to be looking at himself slumped on the floor while he was still, in some sense, sitting on the bench. "How do I get up from this?" he wondered, moving his head around.

Arturus had freed Kevlar from his pants; his shoes had fallen off, as his legs appeared to be shrinking, the mass moving into a thick growth - a tail, Kevlar realised - that was sprouting out from above his buttocks. "Arturus, I've fallen. Pick me up!"

"Yes, master." Arturus stretched his arms wide, reaching around as much of Kevlar's serpentine body as he could. Kevlar hissed at him, getting Arturus to shift his hold until they reached a comfortable balance. Kevlar ordered Arturus to sit down; he went along for the ride, coiled across Arturus's lap.

Kevlar's own lap was quickly vanishing, his legs little more than short scaly stumps. He slithered around, coiling himself around Arturus's firm body. His forked tongue flickered out, tasting the deliciously meaty, masculine musk oozing from Arturus's body. He looped around again, being careful not to accidentally squeeze the life out of him; Kevlar debated on whether to do that, but at least for now he was more interested in using Arturus for a different sort of entertainment.

Having been with a lot of men before, Kevlar knew the signs and was not disappointed. Arturus's massive cock slipped against his body, fleshy and rigid. As he came around Arturus's back, Kevlar flicked his tongue over it. His hands grabbed on to Arturus's side, pushing the crystal against him; Kevlar knew the crystal wouldn't be broken, and he wasn't about to let it out of his hands again. Shifting his coils around, he made a space for his lengthy neck to slide into, Kevlar's sleek snake head stretching outwards. It was almost like his whole body was becoming aroused as a wide hood stretched out from his neck. Kevlar wasn't sure exactly what was happening, though he had seen this feature on some of the more exotic snake he had seen in his travels.

Being careful with his teeth - mostly the two prominent fangs that dripped with a greenish venom - Kevlar slithered his tongue along Arturus's meaty cock. His own was throbbing rapidly too, harder than it had ever been. His scaly sack had slowly shifted inside his serpentine body. Looming over Arturus's manhood, Kevlar brought it into his mouth, savouring the flavour. His hands gripped tighter, Arturus grunting a little as the crystal gouged into his flesh.

Kevlar closed his eyes, his snake head bobbing on Arturus's member. It was so warm, so vibrant. His own cock stirred harder, his body squeezing and rubbing against Arturus. Kevlar had never felt so aroused: he'd enjoyed more handsome men, better-equipped men, and stronger men. There wasn't really anything special about Arturus that he couldn't find - if one knew where to look - in any city or large town. Kevlar wondered which it was: the new form, so elegant and surprisingly muscular on its own, which Kevlar had never had, even as a boy; the strange words and thoughts buzzing in his head, that had stirred up his aggressive need to dominate other men, and left most of him in a pleasant, dull haze that made it hard to think about anything but the man in his coils, and the crystals that needed to be mined. Arturus was his slave, but he, too, was a slave of sorts.

He decided that it was the power, the strange, addicting power that he could feel flowing between him and Arturus. Now that he had an appetite for control, being able to command someone to do exactly what he wanted was thrilling and incredibly sexual, in a way that was new to him. He squeezed tightly against Arturus's warm, hard body.

His mouth slurped as it came off of Arturus's throbbing, red cock, dripping with the venom that had leaked from Kevlar like saliva. "Open up your legs, and relax your hole," the snake ordered, curling his tail into position. The surge of that order, and its immediate obedience, sent a jolt to his genitals. The last traces of his human form disappeared as the pale, flimsy skin on his cock tore open, the head separating into two red shafts that merged at a slit below.

Wriggling the tip of his tail inside Arturus, Kevlar let go of him with his empty hand. Grabbing the two prongs in between his scaly fingers, he stroked, hissing in pleasure. He coiled around Arturus again, head returning to drink on Arturus's shaft. Arturus's insides felt so warm, Kevlar was taken with the idea of slithering up in there. "Too bad I'm so big, I don't want the poor boy to rupture," he thought. "Perhaps, though, if I had more of them around..."

This idea was tempting, but for right now he had to restrain himself. One warm slave at a time, at least until there was enough around him that could keep him safe. He shuddered, imagining his own little temple, serving as a high priest of sorts, as his slaves brought him more men to turn. His hand tugged faster, translucent green fluid dripping across his fingers as it leaked from his two stimulated hemipenises.

Kevlar knew men's reactions quite well: feeling how their cocks throbbed when they were simply aroused versus when they were really close; the change in heartbeat; the increased immediacy of their breathing. His new form seemed to make him even more acute to these subtle changes. He squirmed his tail deeper inside Arturus's body, knowing just how pleasurable he could make this experience on top of what the young man was already feeling. Kevlar had learned there was a spot, that, with just the right toying...

As his tail was thick and he had penetrated Arturus without lubrication, it was slightly difficult to penetrate him. Still, Arturus wasn't about to complain in his current state, and Kevlar had all of the time he wanted. Wriggling, he moved in, timed for the moments he paused taking Arturus's cock into his mouth; it wouldn't do to hurt his plaything too much just before he orgasmed, and that was coming on closely. Arturus just needed an extra push. Kevlar could feel it writhing around in his head. He wanted to taste all of what Arturus had to offer, and that meant being patient.

Grunting, Kevlar wiped some of his own pre-cum off of his shafts. Looking at his sticky hand, he thought of just how much it looked like his venom. Thinking quickly, he pulled his tail out of Arturus's hole. It remained gaping open as Kevlar proceeded to lubricate it with his own fluids. "There we go," he told Arturus. "This should help it slide in easier. Now, I don't want you to hold back. Just relax and let the good feelings wash all over you."

As Arturus gave the accustomed "Yes, master," Kevlar returned to working his fluid-slick tail-tip back into Arturus's body. His hole had been loosened, but the extra lubrication seemed to work. Kevlar felt Arturus tense up, muscles shivering. Salty pre-cum dripped and dribbled into his mouth. Arturus started to thrust in, moaning uncontrollably. Kevlar could almost feel the pressure building, Arturus was on the edge. This was his favourite part; he reflected that, really, he had always liked to control men. Bringing one to orgasm certainly brought them pleasure, but it provided him with pleasure too. He squeezed around, coils tightening around Arturus's body as his excitement started to manifest itself.

Kevlar held a finger up to Arturus's lips to keep him from moaning out: it wouldn't do to get noticed by excessively loud moans. Arturus obeyed; Kevlar could hear his jaw tensing up, humming loudly through gritted teeth. Thick, hot fluid blasted from Arturus's cock, filling Kevlar's mouth. His control over Arturus seemed to be total; as his body shook in Kevlar's constraining coils, the shots of thick fluid seemed especially rich. Kevlar felt Arturus slam into the end of his snout, the young man losing complete control of his body.

As the energy Kevlar had built up in Arturus exploded, and the effects of that explosion slowly dissipated, Kevlar focused on his own pleasure. Sliding his tail out, and letting the last squirts and drips of Arturus's cum splatter across his scales, he shifted his coils around Arturus's body as it slumped, drained. Lining up his crotch with Arturus's mouth, he commanded. "Suck."

Arturus didn't have to voice his obedience. The young guard opened his mouth, cheeks straining as Kevlar's shafts penetrated him. Kevlar let his coils to the work, forgetting about Arturus's health as his body's need built up. Electricity seemed to crackle throughout his body. Kevlar leaned over, finding a juicy spot on Arturus's back, and sank his venomous fangs in.

If Arturus wanted to scream in pain, he didn't. That was fortunate, because the excitement of biting into his slave was the last little thrill Kevlar needed. The snake's muscular body squeezed as though it were swallowing some prey; the force shuddering through his shafts as he returned the favour Arturus had done and filled his mouth with his fluids.

With the excitement still rippling, Kevlar licked the puncture wounds he had given to Arturus. The venom was already acting; he could smell the subtle changes in scent that were coming from his body. Flicking his tongue along the clotted blood, he slowly uncoiled from Arturus's naked body. He studied him, wondering how it would feel to unhinge his jaw and swallow Arturus, but the new Kevlar was a pragmatist, and a vanishing guard would draw attention.

His mind burned with activity, thinking of how he should operate. He would have to test the limits of his ability to control people before unleashing his power on the unsuspecting denizens in the next major city. It would do no good to have people on high alert, hunting him down and killing him before he could perform his duty.

Turning to the drowsing human, he shifted his head in line with Arturus's. "Slave, until I tell you otherwise, you are to forget all about has transpired here. Speak to Derrick, and tell him that I wish to speak with him. Follow him along here, and make sure nobody else sees me. After that, I wish you to start to follow along after us. When your body begins to transform, I want you to only travel at night, staying in the shadows. Derrick will be waiting for you, and will smuggle you to where I have set myself up. If you do what I say, you will be greatly rewarded."

"Thank you, master," Arturus answered, stiffly moving to put on his leather pants.

"That takes care of that problem," Kevlar thought. He needed to make sure he remained unmolested; enthralling Derrick was the best means to that end. Derrick also had a reputation, and would draw little attention acting as his representative. He could stay in the carriage until nightfall, before moving into a proper base of operations. Arturus was the only loose end; Kevlar needed him to control Derrick until he was completely controlled, but his eventual transformation would draw attention. If that happened, Kevlar did not want it associated with him or his own mission. He enjoyed Arturus, but he had an almost sacred duty to perform.

Taking pleasure in the sight of Arturus's body as he re-armoured himself, Kevlar curled into the corner of the carriage where the shadows would hide his body. Using his coils, he gathered his torn clothes, trying to disguise himself as a human for long enough to get Derrick to enter the carriage unwittingly.

Arturus looked dishevelled as his hand took up his sword. He turned to Kevlar's form, some of his youthful naivety returning into his voice. "I'll just go get Derrick for you, master."

"That's 'sir'," Kevlar corrected. "At least until we meet again."

"Oh, yes, sorry sir." Arturus opened the carriage door, sticking his head out. He called out to the driver to stop the carriage as he was getting out. Inside, Kevlar felt a potent rush of excitement. Flicking his tongue out of his scaly lips, he wondered what Arturus would look like when they next properly met.