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Slayer or Layer 16 For Lorvianne By Draconicon

Days passed, perhaps as much as a week, and every day, Lorkos laid at least a dozen eggs. They came quickly and were passed out of the breeding hut every hour, and every time that another was taken from him, he couldn't help but wonder what was going to happen to them. He stomped down on that thought as soon as it reared its head, but it never learned its lesson and continued to torment him.

Would the lizardmen treat the eggs well? Would they be given to the females to raise? Would the children have something...better to them, compared to their parents?

The thought kept coming, and he kept pushing it down, shoving it away. He didn't want to think about the eggs as children. He didn't want to think about what would happen when they hatched. He didn't want to see them as people.

Because they weren't. They were scalies.

The mostly-wolf groaned as his bindings were undone again, the sun setting meaning that it was time for him to be carried back to his bed. He groaned as he was lifted up, too weak to walk on his own, held in the arms of a black-scaled warrior. The lumps of muscle beneath him were not comforting, but rather abusive, hard as rocks and less comfortable than the stones on the ground.

Yet, it was the only way he could move after the day-long orgy. Seed clung to his thighs, his face, his cheeks, his chest. He could feel it running along his body, a constant reminder of what he had become. A breeder, nothing but a breeder to the lizards.

Please...how much more...it can't be too many more...

He glanced back at the breeding hut. The runes on the door sped his pregnancies, forced his heat, interacting with the sigils on his pussy to make it impossible for him to think of anything but sex while he was in there. It was only now, hours later, that he realized how tired he was, that he understood what a beating his body had taken.

The wolf slumped further down in the warrior's arms as he felt the urge to release another egg, the final pregnancy of the night swelling in his belly. It wouldn't be ready until morning, but after birthing a dozen eggs between sun-up and sun-down, he couldn't help but try, his inner muscles clamping down and attempting to push out something that wasn't quite ready.

The lizardman carrying him chuckled, but said nothing.

They reached the small, leather hut at the edge of the village. His carrier put him down, tied his arms over his head and spread his legs so that his pussy was exposed. Lorkos whimpered, his hips moving before he realized what he was doing, and the lizardman chuckled.

"No breeding," the creature said, patting the wolf's scaly slit. "Not til morning."

"Mmmph..."

The dragonslayer shivered, half thankful that the monster was respecting the rules, half wishing that the creature would break them and rut him again. There was a part of him, a desperate, shameful part that needed more dicking, more cum, more rut...

And it was a part that was steadily growing under this abuse.

As he was left alone, the wolf panted until he was able to calm himself down, which took longer than usual. His hands curled into fists as he forced himself to take deep breaths, ignoring the drying seed on his body and the smell in the air, and forced himself to think only of the possibility of the curse being removed.

That was his goal. That was what he needed to have happen more than anything else. If he could get that, then he would be fine.

If he could get that, then this would all be worth it.

When he was no longer shaking, dripping, or groaning with need, the wolf opened his eyes and looked down at his belly again. It was swollen, a bump just beneath the belly button pushing his flesh and fur forward with a bulge that outlined the egg within. He knew that it would be a big one, perhaps the biggest yet.

It would make him cum again, reminding him of his developing addiction...and he hated the fact that he almost looked forward to it.

"Assssleep yet?" the familiar female voice whispered.

"No."

"May come in?"

"Come in."

The lizard woman stepped through the gap in the tent, bare as ever and unashamed. She sat down by him, taking a rough leather cloth and dabbing it against his cheek, cleaning off some of the remnants of seed that clung to it.

She had done this every evening. He didn't know why, didn't know if it was an order or a personal choice, but she seemed to have dedicated herself to making sure that he didn't leave a mess of himself everywhere. In a way, it was comforting, but in another, it was vaguely disturbing. Having someone look after him...

It wasn't what they were supposed to do. Scalies were monsters. Why...

He sighed. It didn't matter. Not right now, at least.

"I swear, I've fucked every male but the shaman," Lorkos muttered.

"Have. None come to ussss anymore."

"...Really?"

"None." The lizard woman shook her head, dabbing the cloth against his chest. "Prefer wild ssssslut."

"..."

He didn't know what to say to that. It was a bit...well, no, it wasn't flattering in the slightest, but it was definitely strange to think that he was more desired than the women in the village. Maybe it was the fact that he was more mammal?

"Eggsss have hatched. Ssssome, anyway."

"...That was...quick."

"Sssspellssss of the ssshaman make it happen."

He nodded slowly, though he tried not to think about what it would mean. He'd thought that the breeding would take some time to actually affect the population of the tribe. He thought that maybe, maybe, there'd be a chance to deal with the tribe before they became too strong for other people to handle.

Apparently not, and the lizard woman wasn't done telling him the situation, despite the fact that he would have wished her to shut up.

"Sssstronger children. More dragon-like. Blessssed, the ssshaman ssssaysss."

"Ha. Cursed, more like."

"Tribe believessss."

"It doesn't matter."

"Makesssss the malessss fuck you more. Fuck ussss lesssss."

Oh. Well, that was something that he probably should be more concerned about, now that she said it that way.

If he's lying to the tribe...

And if this woman wasn't lying to him...Then again, she had less reason to lie, particularly if the males were acting the way that she was describing. The fact that the tribe females were losing their partners would make them all sorts of upset.

And if the shaman was lying about what was happening, how it worked...

He probably...

Lorkos didn't want to admit it, but it sounded like he might have been lied to, as well. The shaman had promised that he would take away the curse that the dragoness had laid on him, but it had been a week - more than a week - and Lorkos had already laid more eggs than there were villagers. It would have been more than enough to start another generation, particularly with all the other lizards still here, particularly if they were hatching and -

Wait.

He looked at the woman again.

"They hatched already? How...how fast are they growing?"

"Quick grow. First hatched already big assss four-year-oldssss, growing one year, one day," she explained. "Sssshaman sssayssss will stop after few weeks."

So they would be at breeding age very quickly, and they would show themselves as powerful members of the tribe at that point, too. He'd more than doubled the size of the tribe with this...

And the shaman still showed no signs of wanting to let him go. There was no more denying it. He'd been fooled.

Rage tried to surge forward, but he pushed it back down as soon as he felt it rising. The last thing he needed right now was to trigger that heat again, particularly in front of someone who could not sate it. Lorkos gritted his teeth, trying to hold it down, but the fact remained that he'd been stupid enough to believe the promise of a scaly.

Why did I think that any of them would help me? Why did I...

He grimaced as he felt a clench down below, and he forced himself to take a deep breath, forcing it down again. No. Later. Later, when he was alone, when he was somewhere where this wouldn't bite him in the ass.

"I need to get out," he muttered.

"We know."

"We?"

"Other femalessss. You 'sssaved' tribe, but malesss won't sssstop. Need you gone for that."

"You'll...you'll help me?"

"Help oursssselvesss by helping you."

"...If you can..."

"Musssst."

"When?"

"Three dayssss. Full moon. Disssssappear in river, flee."

"What about the...the things..." Lorkos nodded down at his pussy, remembering the sigils that the shaman had drawn on him. "They'll call me back."

"Will wassssh off before you run. Keep you ssssafe."

He couldn't help but stare, unable to believe it. Just when he was starting to give up hope, chance seemed to reach out its hand to save him. Yes, the lizard woman had her own reasons for saving him, but they were good reasons, ones that he could believe.

It almost moved him to tears. Almost.

There was no more talk as the lizard woman finished wiping him clean. She gave him another look, one that seemed to be almost a warning to silence before getting to her feet and leaving the tent. When he was finally alone, Lorkos leaned his head back, staring up at the roof of the tent.

He was going to be rescued by a bunch of women. Women scalies, to be sure, which probably made them vaguely more capable, but at the same time, women. Nobody could ever know about this, but at least he had allies.

He smiled...and then looked down at his stomach, his smile fading.

All the other eggs that he had laid had been taken in by the tribe. He knew that they were going to grow up to be monsters, just like their parents. They had to be; they took nothing from him when they were born, considering they still hatched from eggs.

But...

Lorkos gritted his teeth as the curiosity came back, filling him with questions. What happened when they hatched? The female said that they were more dragon-ish than the other ones were, that the tribe was lied to, told that it was a blessing of dragons from far away. What did the children look like? What did they want?

What were...

What were they like?

The wolf growled under his breath, turning his head to the side. He stomped the thought out, finally, with a reminder that they were not his children. They were beasts, monsters that were sired by the creatures that raped him. No matter what one might wish, there would be nothing redeemable about them.

He closed his eyes, forcing himself to forget about them. He was nothing but an incubator, not a parent. As soon as the eggs were taken from him, they were nothing but a problem for someone else.

He slid into sleep...and dreamed of scales.

_Hatchlings. Children. Teenagers. Adults. Things covered in scales leaped and ran, jumped and played along the hills. Some had wings, some did not. Some wore clothes, some were as naked as their parents had been. Some had hints of fur in places, while some were completely scaly and dragon-like.

But they were all red-scaled, all bearing the mark of the dragoness that started this.

Lorkos looked out at them, and somehow, he knew that they were his. There were no signs of wolf to them, no signs of anything that could have been traced back to him, but he knew that they were his. His children. His line. They had been birthed from him, and...

And they were looking for him.

They searched for him.

They called for him.

"Lithia, Lithia," they hissed, and every time he heard the word, he knew that it was something different. Not mother, not father, but egg-mother, the layer, the bearer._

They were looking for him, and he could do nothing but hide from them.

The End