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Breathe.

Just breathe and suffer and take advantage of the quiet.

Cold snow enveloping around my back, the steaming mist that seems to pour from my mouth and nostrils with every pained gasp. My hind legs were hanging limp over the snow, and my arms were busy cradling a precious treasure. Above all else I had to keep that orb safe, even if it meant I'd feel this awful bellyache for the rest of my natural life.

It had sunk in quite a bit, my belly was a far cry from the hard ruggedness of my scales or claws. The painful weight of a cold, solid bowling ball wedged deep inside. Just breathe. Accept the pain, and relax.

Minutes passed in which I was the only sound, a dead forest in the high mountains with heavy snowfall. Everything blanketed in a layer of mist and frost. I was a dragon of course, I didn't really need clothing out here and I wasn't going to catch a cold from this. But it was uncomfortable, unpleasant, and downright unhelpful in trying to relax.

I lay my head back, closed my eyes, and melded into the landscape. Not literally, but spiritually. Taking stock of how quiet everything was. How serene the plants could be in the dead of winter. Most still had green needles or sometimes leaves, others were barren and stripped of all color. I could taste their emotions, feel the energy in the air. I let that energy fuel me.

Drive me.

With a whimpering groan, I knew I still had to get up and continue my mission. I won't ever get magical powers until I take this glass orb to the shrine of the dragon gods, and only then will I be able to express all of the wonder and flavor of the magic I could see spiraling around me. If I lost the orb, or if it were stolen, then savoring the taste of magic would be an unending taunt to drive home my failure.

The fox had failed though.

He got my food and my money, but I still kept the one thing that was important. Food can be replaced, money can be earned, but this glass orb was priceless.

A newfound sense of duty. Is this what determination felt like? I released my hands from that hold and only barely restrained myself from whimpering at the odd sight before me. The orb shrunken into my gut like I was the surface of a lake , sinking at least two feet deep all while wedging itself between thick blubber and squeaking folds.

My clawed hands try to scrape along the surface, feeling only the moisture and heat as my fingers couldn't reach far enough. There was nothing for it but to reach deeper, stab down until my hand vanished, and I could feel my own flesh surrounding it. I could feel how the organs inside were squashed about, shoved aside to make room. I could feel my own belly applying pressure on my hand, and in all honesty it would be a strain just to drag my arm back out.

I almost consider myself lucky that the darned thief of a fox didn't get himself trapped between belly folds, because I know for a fact he would not have sat quietly and accepted my help getting out. He'd have been kicking, thrashing, and biting the whole time, and probably just sunk in deeper for his troubles.

But when my claws finally did scrape against the edges of that orb, that was all they did. Scrape. I try cutting deeper and pinching multiple claws on either side, but my hands were built for walking on. And they just slid off the polished sides of that orb rather than manage enough pressure to pluck it out. My belly pressing from all sides just had more leverage than a few fingers.

I close my eyes again and whine. The universe just does not want me to have it easy, does it?

A roll onto my side and a tug to pull my arm free. Well, then another tug. Finally a desperate, panic driven pull that leaves my arm sliding free with a bounce and a plop, momentum smashing it into the snow around me. Yeah, that was annoying hard to pull free.

Then came rolling the rest of the way, from my side and onto my belly. Standing up tall and proud with all four paws, looking down and ...

Oh come on!

Even with gravity it still wasn't coming free, the folded up wedge of tummy fat maintaining that distressingly tight grip. As much as I felt that might be a safe place for it, having my guts folded in on themselves really, really hurt, and I couldn't use the orb if I never managed to get it out.

Hrmph.

I continue the roll further, now flopping onto my left side and splashing through the snow, an entire section of the ground cleared away to leave the imprint of what could have been a child dragon frolicking in the winter. Really it just meant that my entire body was now equally cold and covered in snow. Most of it falling off my scales, while some gets caught in the spikes or melts along the skin beneath.

Once more I lean my head all the way back, bring my claws up above and behind my head, and brace into the ground. Armpits getting the delightful tickle of snowflakes melting along the inner scales, my hind legs spread as feet stab into the ground and try to brace.

With nothing else for it I was left to fold myself up again, but in the opposite direction. Belly splayed open to the world, my head curling back until I could sniff the tip of my tail. Hah! My arms and legs extended higher and higher so that I was perfectly rounded with my pudgy little tummy making the outside of the circle.

Normally this works, in any other circumstance it would have been a comfortably stretched belly and my gut would have felt pleasant. The pain was supposed to ebb away, and the actual plan was for this to pop the orb out.

Neither seemed to happen. The orb's weight bore down more than my belly could stretch out, thick layers of skin and fat retaining that grip on the glass ball. And the pain just mounted higher and higher as the orb had less flesh to sink into. I wanted to cry now, but tears weren't coming out. It was too cold for tears.

"Just ..." I breathed, straining past the awkward, dull pain that seemed to throb from my belly and twinge down the rest of me like a wave of awful.

"Just a little ..." Eyes open wide, staring upside down at the snow beneath me, straining every little bit to just stretch that tiniest fraction more.

"Just a little bit more ..." I could feel the skin getting exceptionally taut in all directions, my chest now further away from my hips and that soft underbelly struggling to make up the difference. I could feel the orb sliding out just a few inches. Then a few more. Then almost a foot nearer, close enough I'd have tried to grab it if my stubby arms could have reached that high. The pain intensified bu- ...

WHAMP!HWAMSMACK!

Maybe if I had been looking up, I'd have noticed the tree I rolled under. Or noticed the branch that started creaking. Or been able to dive out of the way when that same branch began to fall. As it was the first moment I took notice was when a massive, head sized log came crashing down in a shower of sparkles and snow, slapping right into my gut and throwing my spine to the ground.

With my head forced to rapidly reverse direction, now with my face instantly between my knees instead of behind my back, I could see the glass orb thrown forward. Flying between my legs as that log acted like a weight on a trampoline. One side pushing down, so that as the branch sunk in the orb was bounced out.

"w-wwhhyyyyy"

I was crying ice at that point, rolling to one side and cupping the log to my chest just as instinctively as I had been cupping the orb. It now sat amongst the snow, rolling into place and hanging still. All while I had the time to curse my misfortune and tear the log away from my gut in a visciout bout of claws and fangs.

Oh gods that hurt so bad ...

I wanted to sprawl back out and stretch my belly again, but there were trees everywhere. And knowing my luck, if a tree wasn't available then maybe giant balls of hail would do. I wouldn't put it past the universe to somehow have a Gryphon mailman carrying a sack of bricks to just happen to fly over me, and then just happen to let his package slip, right at the worst moment possible.

No, suck it up. Eat the pain. Grab that orb. Get walking and get somewhere safer, somewhere with less things to fall from the sky and maybe a roof over my head. A thick and sturdy roof. One that definitely won't collapse.

A little bit of snow was scooped up alongside the glass orb, stuffed into my satchel and then slung over my neck again. I was tired and pained and haggard and just wanted this whole thing to be over. I wasn't exactly an adventurer back at home, and constant sucker punches wasn't what I expected any adventure to be like.

Absolutely done with all of this, I limped onward. I wanted to badly to stomp, to smash things, or maybe even let out a few roars, but the most I could manage was to limp along. One hand rubbing my belly as the other three limbs navigate a layer of snow.

Within minutes I came to realize that maybe it was for the best. After all I don't want to ruin some squirrel's home in a fit of anger. And if there was someone else around, someone actually innocent and not like that fox, then it would be awful if I accidentally knocked a tree on top of them. Dragons are scary enough as it is, being big and powerful and neigh invulnerable. An angry dragon who's shouting a lot could traumatize people.

I didn't want that at all ...

So with a heavy sigh, as a few minutes stretched into ten, I took my own advice and just sucked it up. Pain was pain, and with that slowing bb it did finally start to settle down.

Snow, and trees, brown and green and grey all mixing with the sparkly white or the thick blue of so much fog.

I didn't actually notice there was a building until the flash of yellow struck my vision. Light in the distance. I limped toward it, letting the wind swirl and fog start to pick up speed. Snow flicked into the air or drifting down at wild angles. When I was within shouting distance I could make out the shape of that single building, and scrape my claws against a snow covered road. The wide door, the tall roof, the aging logs that have been strapped together into a cabin.

Yeah, maybe I should have thought about this more, but it was the first place I stumbled across and I wasn't about to pass up the chance to warm up.

My clawed hands grasped a much too small handle, scraping over the wood. I made the gentlest push I could manage and heard the sound of wood scraping on wood, of splinters forming. Oh, right. High winds. I switched to pulling the door instead, feeling it open up easily with only the slightest effort.

Blessed warmth, the cozy interior looking nothing like the constant white or spiraling winter outside. So much brown and yellow and orange all mixing together, carpets on the floors and small windows with curtains around them. I could see a stone fireplace flickering in the corner and a number of people huddled around it.

The place wasn't entirely crowded, but most of the people inside were vulpine of one color or another. A few white furred ones, a fox with black fur, another fox who seemed to be yellow, and then the rest a vibrant orange or red. There was a rodent inside with a heavy looking sword leaning against his table as he sipped from a cup. And there was an elf set in the far corner with a white cloak over its head, which seemed to be actively trying to look mysterious.

I had to duck in order to enter, but while the massive bulk of a dragon crawling inside did cause a many heads to turn there wasn't any cause for them to be alarmed. I was about three or four times everyone's height, and had a lot more weight on me. But dragons are known for being regal, civilized, polite and prideful.

With the utmost care I pulled the door shut behind me, tried my hardest to let the snow melt away rather than shake it off on anyone too unfortunate to be close to me. And of course, walked further inside toward the counter.

"A dragon ..." the person who spoke took me a minute to pinpoint, the voice mixed between probing, accusatory, and for some reason her words tasted like opportunity. As if the concepts in her mind somehow had a flavor, and that taste brought to mind a golden moment just waiting for someone to act upon it.

"Yeah. I'm ... I'm a dragon." I answered. The shivering wasn't from cold, as much as I wished it could be. More from the dull, throbbing pain that seems to ebb and flow. Looking down she was a dainty looking fox seated atop a cushioned chair, her legs propped up against the counter. Her skirt didn't quite cover as much as I would have expected, and I could see a still lit cigar placed into a glass bowl.

"Well alright then. What is it going to be ... I have some of our finest- ..."

But I cut her off with a shake of my head, quickly stuttering. "I don't h-have any money, sorry. I was just trying to ..."

Trying to what. Enjoy the warmth of a building? Loiter around a bit before moving on? That darned thief stole all of my travel goods, so now I have to make do on charity until I can find work. Maybe it would be possible to find work here?

"No need sir." She intones with a bit of forced patience. "Dragons are a rare, cherished sight around these lands. And as such any time a dragon travels this far north, we all do our best to encourage they come again."

I blink at that. "What ... what does that mean."

The woman plucks up her cigar, inhaling a long drag. When she tries to meet my eyes she has to look up quite a distance, yet her posture is anything but submissive. "Our method is to offer free services. Complementary services. You have one day's worth of free room and board, as well as your choice among a selection of our product."

"Oh. OH!" Free, as in completely free? Just because dragons are awesome? "T-then yes! Yes I would very much like to try some, what do you have?"

A drink could go a long way towards soothing my chapped lips. Though I know from experience it would do nothing at all to my aching belly.

The woman nods. "Helps keep the tourists interested. Lets see here, we have Sally. She's really good with her hands. I believe Trish is available, she could use a good workout. Amberwight would ... not be your type I'm sure." Another slow drag of her cigar, and then she was looking down toward her desk for another stack of folders.

"What ..." it took me far too long to realize that none of those words were drinks.

"Your escort, sir. A name aren't required from you if you wish to maintain privacy, but we will need to decide which woman you wish to bed with."

I blink.

Then I blink again, shaking my head.

"B-bed ... with ..."

The woman sighs. "Sir, you do realize this is a brothel. Yes?"

"N-nggh ..."

I had not realized that. I didn't know that's what the building was at all. That ... I ... what ... but she's giving me free service! And. And would it be right to accept it? I don't even know any of these people. But ... but it's cold outside, and I can't just sit by their fireplace and ... but I'm not paying her for any of it. All I'm offered is time to sit with a person and do whatever it is I want for that duration.

What most people want is sex, but ...

Whatever I want ...

"If you wish to retract our agreement, then we can simply let you sit by the door sir. Or I can direct you to another tavern that would take you in." she offers, though I can see by the way she bites her lip that she really doesn't want me to go. Her words taste of anticipating failure of the disastrous stress right before some major loss. One that you can see coming, but realize you're too late to stop it.

"Do you have s-someone who's good at giving a ... a belly massage?" by the gods, saying that out loud felt so embarrassing. This one chance was just far too convenient to pass up.

"Hrmm." The receptionist narrows her eyes, taking a long, slow drag of her pipe. "Yes we do. Actually ... there are several here you can cho- ..."

But I cut her off.

"Do you have any, uh ... m-men ... who could rub my tummy?" no dignity now. And by that same token I had nothing left to loose.

The woman just smiles, plucking the pipe off her lips and using the end of it as a pointer. She motions toward one door on the far right, strait down a narrow looking hallway. Well, it was narrow for me at least. Probably wide for everyone else.

"T-thank you ..." I didn't know what else to say. Free service, the chance to relax, and some strong hands who might work out the pain in my gut. For a few awkward moments I just stood there, until the woman's expectant eyes urged me onward. Gingerly stepping down the halls and trying to ignore any of the strange looks I was getting from the rest of the people here. How many were workers on break?

How many were approving, after all I was somehow the only person in the building who didn't wear clothes. A fact I was all too keenly aware of.

More pressing, how many eyes were judging me for this. Was I judged poorly?

Ignore that. Everything can be ignored with enough practice, I had a mission to complete and with any luck I'll never see any of these people again. Stay the night, wait till morning, and then step out back onto the trail regardless of what the weather is like.

I came to the far hallway and passed a number of closed doors. It was possible to hear things on the other side if I leaned close, tried to pay attention. But I didn't put much effort into snooping, it's wrong to intrude on someone's privacy like that. Also I wasn't certain I'd be willing to remember whatever I saw.

The final doorway was thick, red, and had handles wide enough for me to slip a claw through. With the most delicate little tug I could manage the door swings open on a hinge, and I'm left looking at a wide, tall room with a single table in the center and numerous red curtains draping the walls. It looked like it was designed to make the whole place look soft and bright, empty and isolated. Upon stepping inside even the doorway had a curtain tapering down, covering the doors so that it all appeared to be one solid square of red and lace.

Very fancy, and it certainly helped to set the mood. I suspect it might even muffle sound a fair bit.

"Just rest on the table bud, I'll git there in a min." answered out a gruff voice that sounded like he was talking through a clenched jaw while sucking on gravel. Immediately I was left feeling a bit more nervous than before, but ...

What did I have to lose?

Slipping off my satchel, I set it down near the side of the table. About the same size as me, coming up to my waist. Thick stone make, but with padded blankets and pillows along the surface. I crawl up partway, then roll to the side. My tail and hind legs had to dangle off the bottom, and my head was left leaning back over the top.

Already I could feel a bit of the pain oozing away, the table alone forced me to lay in that perfect position, stretched out backwards with my belly up. The skin now taut, but not stretched as far as it could go.

If it were only this, just a few minutes laying here to relax and enjoy, that would have been enough. The pain was entirely gone, my belly felt good as new, and my decision to accept the massage felt fully vindicated.

Then ...

Then I saw an orc step out from behind the curtain. Apparently there was another room behind at least one of them, letting me get a glimpse of a hallway, a changing room, a mirror and lots of makeup. Then the curtain folds back down, leaving me isolated with this muscular bound orc.

Green skin, standing almost ten feet tall and very near my own height. No shirt, no pants, no shoes, the only bit of clothing was a glistening black loin cloth. Or maybe it was just a wide thong? Either way it left absolutely nothing to the imagination, and his hips were rather high above my eyes at the moment.

Oh gosh, looking up at that figure ... THAT figure ... there was nothing that compares to it. Strong and fit and abundantly healthy, the only mark against him was the fact he was a orc.

Never let it be said this man had a pretty face.

"U-uh ... uhm ..." there were many reasons to be nervous here, and yet I couldn't muster the will to act upon them. I lay limp and stretched, belly fully exposed, and now I felt an all new worry as to just what sort of accident was going to hit me in the gut this time.

For a moment I wondered if maybe this was a mistake, that the orc was another customer perhaps? All of those fears melted away when his thick fingers first touched my belly button.

"Ssshhhh. Derg relax now. Close eyes, and let all worry slip bye bye." He whispered. And by the gods whatever he was doing with his hands was heavenly!

A gentle prod into the very center, that quickly builds and builds, the force rising as he tests my limits. Open palms pressing down and then smoothing up toward my chest and down toward my thighs in the same motion. Both hands in full force, he'd then roll down the layers of fat in a back and forth flow, never staying in one area for very long.

The fingers spread, a sensation that morphs from two distinct rubs along my tummy into ten discrete rods that all seem to dent the flesh in a different way. He massages along the ribs as if I were a deck that needs scrubbing, right hand up toward my chest while his left hand inches ever closer to my thighs.

The touch, the smell. Even the sound of his breathing was oddly pleasant, but nothing compared to just how good it felt to get a belly rub when I really needed one. Not even dad managed anything this wonderful.

Yeah, I closed my eyes.

My tongue lulls out of my jaws, spittle dripping onto the floor in an embarrassing display. My tail lashes side to side from sheer giddiness, and I swear the most embarrassing thing ever started to rise between my legs.

No, claw that. More embarrassing still was when he touched it.

Left elbow bumping against the very tip of my erect ... ahem ... knocking it aside as he continues his work, only to bump it again, just that gentle little touch from an incidental movement.

I almost wanted him to shift attention a bit further south, start massaging something else. But that would require pulling away from my tummy. Not something I was at all willing to give up. Maybe I could negotiate something for two men to come give me a rub down, one for up high and another for down there?

This line of thought wasn't helping with the drool problem.

He moved to applying his whole bodyweight now, leaning forward onto my gut and rolling his elbows around. Pressing deep, the flesh squishing under his touch only to rebound in an instant the moment he leaves. Muscles relaxing, all tension seeming to melt away. I was in utter bliss and could have simply lay here with my eyes closed for hours on end.

Savoring the taste of- ...

Wait what?

The air. It tasted of hatred. His aura tasted like disgust and loathing, even while every smell and scent of that body showed mutual arousal.

I tasted giddiness, a hint of nervous apprehension, and the satisfaction of a prank well pulled. Sneaking and stealing, the anticipation of wondering if you'll be caught or if you can manage to get away un-noticed.

This was not the flavor I expected to experience. My eyes open, head twisting to glance down. And there I see why ...

A city of foxes. Run by foxes. In a brothel where most of the workers are foxes. And right there in front of me, I just happened to see that exact same fox from before, now wearing a frilly skirt and tight leathers around his chest. While he roots through my bag, paws already cupped around the glass orb.

Without really thinking about it my right claw shot forward to scoop up the fox, only to be stopped by the hardened muscles and tight grab of that orc. Locking his arm around my elbow. Holding my hand in a tight pin.

I looked up at the orc with a sense of utter betrayal in my eyes, but all I could taste from him was malicious glee.

"W-wh ... why ..." I managed to mouth off.

And the answer I received was him raising his free arm right above my belly ...

Guess I figured out where the curse is gonna strike.