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On the Sixth Day of Yiffmas, Jakealope Wrote for Thee...

Six Beasts A-(S)laying

"Dragon! I have come to slay you! Your rule over this land ends henceforth!

Eurgh--is that another one of those pesky...

Corinthuum looks down the grand entrance hall, spotting the man wrapped in a shiny adornment of silver and gold. The toothpick of a sword he brandishes about clangs loudly against a metal shield as he yells into the darkness.

Thuum heaves a great sigh--not quite loud enough for the trespasser to realize the origin, yet feeling the change in air nonetheless--and contemplates how to deal with the nuisance.

There are a variety of quick and dirty methods he could use. There's also a slew of quick and clean ones, too. Then there are the more interesting, nuanced methods, some peaceful, some... less so. But diverging down the nuanced path requires effort. Why talk to the clanging, yammering fool when Thuum could simply vaporize him on the spot?

Thuum is feeling generous, however. Perhaps his generosity came from not seeing one of these self-proclaimed "champions" since the coming of winter that now started to melt off the mountain's peaks. Perhaps with the birth of new life on the horizon, Thuum's gay heart might be this man's saving grace.

Perhaps a more sensitive approach would be best with this poor, misguided soul.

As he does so, the man's squawking continues, "Come on out foul creature. The day of reckoning has come for you, just as it had for the last five beasts I've slain!"

...perhaps I ought to do so quickly, lest my decision be swayed by his incessant yammering.

"Your first and final warning," Thuum rumbles from out of sight, the cave hall shivering from his voice alone. "Go back whence you came."

The man ought to be so lucky to receive such an offer from a dragon, but of course he refuses. "Never shall I bow to your kind! As long as you remain alive, I shall seek your head!"

"Hmm. Which head do you refer to?"

"Yes! I mean, err..." The man blankly stares back into the dark void before him. "Which head? I was not told that you were a hydra."

"I am no hydra," Thuum clarifies. With two sweeps of his foreleg left and right, flames burst from torches set in the rock, illuminating the dragon's black hide and casting eerie shadows off his great wings. At the end of a long neck was the fearsome head of the dragon, with two starlight eyes carefully watching over Bernard.

"You see, I was referring to two heads; if you were here for one particular head, I would be inclined to take up your offer."

Thuum rolls his haunches so that his underside is exposed to the soldier. Nothing of prominence can be seen between his legs, all his privates being internal to his body, but Thuum hoped it got the point across, nonetheless.

"You... your head..." the man stammers.

"Yes, my head."

"Your... uhm..."

Thuum cuts the blithering idiot off, "Yes. That is what I am referring to."

"How dare you suggest such a devilish act!" The man yells out, slicing his sword through the air in front of him. "I would never couple with a monster! I am here to slay you, just as the last five--"

"--the last five beasts before. Yes, you have stated so once before. It does not bear repeating."

"Then you should know not to underestimate my strength, dragon!"

"And what are the five beasts you have slain, might I ask?"

"If you must know, creature of darkness!" The soldier set his sword aside so he could hold his clenched fist high in the air. A first finger raised as he recites, "There were the mighty dire wolves in the east pines. Then the troll beneath the frosted pass. The fearsome goblins that plagued the southernmost isles of Fiord. A vicious winged gryphon living in the high trees of Leifgale. And lastly was the ancient and fearsome Ent, tainted with foul magic belonging to the swamps beyond the village of Akron."

"An evil Ent? I must admit that I have never heard of such a feat." Thuum digests the information while tapping a claw against the cavern floor. "And were you successful in vanquishing the swamp creature?"

"The Ent? Yes, I just told you about that."

"No. I refer to the entity_that corrupted the _Ent. Did you slay it as well?"

"...The swamp itself is cursed; there is no way to slay an entire land."

"But why is the land cursed? There must be an origin, a source of the evil befalling the swamp you speak of." Thuum heaved another sigh from his massive lungs. "I must question your feats, as they are... rudimentary at best. And I must also question if your mind is sound. Why would you think to target a dragon, of all creatures?"

"Bernard the Swift does not back down to any fight, no matter how great! I heard you were terrorizing the locals--"

"Hardly," Thuum chimes in.

"--and the reward for ending your reign of terror would be great! When I claim my victory over your beheaded corpse, my name will be known throughout the lands and beyond!"

Thuum rumbles his applause. "At least you have a way with words, even if you are a few scales short of an armored hide."

"...A few scales short?"

"Never mind that. Honestly, your survival up to this point is astonishing. Must have been a few close calls during your travels?" Thuum snorts out a plume of smoke from his nostrils--all for show, as dragons didn't constantly produce smoke like in fairytale stories--to interrupt any response Bernard had. "But alas, I believe your luck has subsided--unless you consider what I have in plan for you to be the best-case scenario. Believe me, I have been running through all the options; this is the only one that benefits us both."

There is a scent in the air. Detectable by the dragon's keen nostrils, it is the smell of sweat beading on the man's brow. The sweat of a man who realizes his mistake too late.

"W-whatever you have in store, dragon, it matters not! I will have your head--the one between your shoulders!"

Corinthuum did not respond to Bernard's war-cry, as he is already opening his jaws to prepare an attack of his own. Inside the dragon's maw are rows of teeth, sharp as the warrior's sword and nearly as long, too, and in the back of Thuum's throat came a faint light, growing stronger by the second.

"Try your best to breathe your deadly fire upon me, dragon! My armor and shield have been coated in fire-resistive potions that'll douse your flames long before they hurt me!"

Always bragging about fire resistive hogwash potions, as if they'd stop me from cooking them alive in their own makeshift pot...

Thuum unleashes the energy built in his throat, lowering his head low to the ground as purple smoke spewed from his jaws. The smoke fanned out in a cone, heavy enough to stay close against the ground as it rolled across the cave hall, eventually passing through the guarded soldier. He kept his shield steady as the smoke curled harmlessly by. He held this position even as the last of the purple smoke escapes the dragon's throat, preparing for the possibility that the smoke might be ignited, yet no violent burst of heat and flames came. The purple smoke curled on itself for a bit before fading away to nothingness.

"Not a very effective attack, dragon; not a scratch on me!"

"Why would I ever want to harm my brood mate?"

"Whatever do you mean by--ACH!"

The man lurches forward, suddenly in a coughing fit that rattles his chest. The coughs echo across the hall. A satisfied grin curls at the corners of Thuum's snout as he watches the man drop to one knee.

"Dragons are capable of many magics. Fire is indeed one of them, which your armor might repel in some manner, but what of the others? Lightning. Frost. Earth and wind. Illusion..."

"What... what is this... what did you do--argh!"

Thuum steps closer, humming his delight at the fast-working transformation of the diminutive warrior; already he could see purple scales forming on his exposed flesh.

"Illusion magic is an especially powerful tool, and might I emphasize convenient. Because how else is a pent-up drake supposed to find a willing drakka in the early spring? Not easy to find, but with a trivial illusion spell--trivial for a dragon, that is--I can conjure up a female, in heat and ready to be bred. All I need is a suitable host, willing or unwilling."

Bernard is hardly listening to the dragon's gloating. Panic closes his ears to all but his rapidly beating heart. He felt hot to the touch, as if the dragon had managed to melt through his fire-resistant armor. Burning sensations underneath his skin faded once purple scales clicked into place.

"Not exactly pleasant, this process. The physical pain is not real, but it certainly feels so, not to mention the shock of watching your identity dissolve before your eyes. I might be able to spare you some suffering by expediting the transformation."

A great poof! reverberates across the hall, and the great dragon is no longer looking over Bernard. The panting human struggles to comprehend his disappearance as much as he struggles with the scales crawling up his forearm. But something still stands in the great cavern with him.

Where Thuum's forepaws once towered is a beast equally most fowl; an ungodly morphing of half human, half draconian features. Everything about it shares resemblance to a figure he might meet on the beaten road. Arms and legs and chest and feet and hands that are so much like his--except for the obsidian scales that covers his body from head to toe.

The beast's face still features the same jagged maw of the great dragon. The same horns, too, curling over top their skull and straight forward. A tail swishes behind them, spaded at the tip. Certainly the same devilish spawn from before--perhaps more vulnerable in this state...

"Nnrgh!"

Bernard cries out. Sweat beads on skin that still remains untouched by the dragon's curse. Without looking underneath his armor, he's able to feel the scales forming on his chest and back, spreading even quicker now.

"Do not fight. The more you fight, the more pain you feel. This does not have to be painful. Only your mind makes it so."

Closer the anthropomorphic man steps, close enough to meet the end of Bernard's blade, if only he could thrust out at the demon. When the warrior tries, his sword only moves a fraction of an inch. His body is effectively paralyzed by the transformation. There is no fight to be had here, not anymore. The beast had already won.

Thuum rumbles his agreement to that statement. "You seem to be understanding now," the dragon says as he inspects the ongoing changes. "You were brave to come here, but foolish. I am generous enough to forgive your follies. There is no shame in tossing your sword aside. Go on..."

Bernard grunts, trying ever so hard to grip onto the hilt with every last ounce of strength he had left. His body betrays him moments later, and the sword clangs loudly against the stone.

"Good! Very amicable. Your servitude to me will be second nature." Thuum drags a claw along Bernard's plated chest. "This must be removed for the next. If you will allow me..."

The thick metal, some of the best work in the region, is rendered useless by the dragon's powerful spell. Like a vanishing mirage, the armor whisked away into nothingness, as did the clothing underneath, leaving the man's naked form vulnerable to the teeth-chattering cold. "Scales will provide you warmth soon enough," Thuum says, stripping the last bit of clothing away with a flick of his hand. "Now we can continue... but where to start..."

Stepping behind Bernard, the dragon touches both hands against the man's back, admiring the iridescent scales already fully formed. "We can start here."

Bernard steels himself against whatever Thuum prepares to throw at him. Nothing prepares him for the touch of claws against his naked rear, and the touch of something else.

"Relax drakka. Let yourself enjoy our first coupling. The first of many..."

Thuum mounts the defeated warrior with a ferocity only expected from a pent-up drake. There is no adjustment period given to the man turned drakka, but there seems no need. The expected pain of the intruding spire is miniscule to the feeling of pleasure that blossoms within Bernard. His body immediately accepts Thuum's tapered length as though it was a commonality to be filled so wonderfully. There is stretching without any discomfort. There is warmth without the burn. In fact, it was all startlingly pleasant.

"Yes... I feel you giving in, drakka. You will soon be ready to bear my clutch."

More tugging is felt on something unfamiliar to Bernard. A new appendage wraps around Thuum's waistline, sprouting from the small of the drakka's back. A slender tail that befits the loss of mass elsewhere; no longer could Bernard boast of his broad shoulders and chiseled chest. All definition was lost to a softness of a budding female.

"Nearly there. Already such a beautiful dragon. More beautiful than you ever were as a human."

Corinthuum's words resonated within the drakka just the same as the spell to his body. Scales began spreading across his face, and his vision warped with the changes. Features contort with odd, tingling sensations. A long, slender snout appears between Bernards astonished eyes.

Sharp pricks at the top of the drakka's head, a painful headache that is relieved when the newly formed bone pushes through his scalp. The born keeps growing fatter and longer, curling up at first, then straight backwards.

Bernard's ears also balloon in size, shifting from a familiar sight to an unfamiliar one. His new ears are much more animalistic. They swivel with muscles never used before and hear things never possibly heard before.

By the time the last changes settle into place, Bernard would consider himself the very threat he seeks to eradicate, like any other wicked beast that's meant to be cut down by his blade. The humiliation of becoming one's most hated enemy--furthermore dishonoring when the very creature who curses you is also mounting you from behind!

"Lovely drakka, what should your new name be?" Thuum whispers in Bernard's ear.

"I am... Bernard the Swift--hailing from Borrelia..."

"Not anymore, drakka. You are my creation, and thus I will name you... Brienna." Thuum's purrs brings deeper shame to Bernard, as does each pump of the drake's penis within his tailhole. "Brienna is a fitting name. Yes, it suits the lovely drakka you have become, while also paying tribute to the life you surrendered by entering my home." Claws drag against Bernard's midriff, teasing ever lower. "But we must not disregard the most vital transformation; a lovely drakka must be able to bear offspring."

Bernard shivers from both fear of Thuum's words, and touch of Thuum's fingers. His dick remains the only untouched body part--not for any longer. Already the dragon's magic is at work again, molding the once man into a body of a fertile drakka. He watches in horrible fascination as his penis shrinks away, little by little, inch by inch, until a nub is all that's left, and then that vanishes too, disappearing under the hood of a newly formed slit between his legs.

Just as his penis shrunk, Bernard felt his virgin womb blossom as the last of Thuum's spell dissipates. The fully formed, bipedal drakka no longer resembles any of the man before. The once mighty warrior didn't want to believe his fate--her fate as the mighty drake's brood mate.

"What is it you said earlier?" Thuum growls, rocking the drakka's body in a rhythm that matches his own. "Boasting that I shall be the sixth beast you have slain in your heroic efforts to defend the lands." The drake's thrusts become much rougher on the drakka. A hand forces her to bend forward, allowing him to take hold of her widened hips--child-bearing hips.

"I have thought a half dozen reasons why you ought to have known better than to come here. There are a half dozen other beasts to slay in these mountains, yet you chose to slay a dragon. A half dozen ways to think through how terrible an idea this was, and you ignored them all. Now you will lay my eggs and raise my young--a half dozen of them, if we are so lucky."

The dragon quits gloating long enough to hilt himself deep into the rear of his mate. Thick spurts of dragon ejaculate stuff her insides to the point where it all could no longer be contained, the excess dripping down her legs.

"I feel you giving in. Soon there will be no recollection of your past self, Bernard; as the illusion lingers, it becomes all too convincing, so much so that it bends into reality." Thuum slips out of her rear, making a splattering mess on the stone below. "After I fill you with my clutch, you will only feel pride for the life growing inside of you."

The drakka's heard hurts from even thinking about her past. Something is not right, but her claws cannot grasp what she is failing to understand; Bernard sounds so familiar, but Brienna sounds so much more right...

"You will make a loving mother and a lovely mate, my dearest Brienna."