Guardian's Folly
A story about one blacksmith's apprentice who discovers something dire about the mountain near his village.
Dispatching the guards proved more difficult than he originally anticipated. Exhausted by the now-defeated dragon's elite forces, the fox carefully calculated his next move. The dragon's power surged with every new spell; coupled with his sheer size and physical strength, the wizard wondered briefly how long he could keep pace. As if reading his very doubts, the large reptilian beast charged forward, his mouth opening up, showing the dark purple energy which illuminated the entirety of the cavern. As the dragon bore down upon the wizard, he threw up a powerful repel spell, shoving the large creature against the distant wall with a tremendous force heard by those miles away.
With almost supernatural endurance, however, the dragon reeled for only a moment before climbing up on his claws, seething with rage. Pieces of broken pottery sloughed off his body and clattered to the floor. Seeing the momentary reprieve, the wizard refused to pause, immediately working on a series of complex spells. He only hoped that the dragon would cease his attacks long enough for him to finish. Wiping the sweat from his fur, his voice echoed throughout the cave, words of power forming in the air around him. Orange fiery light filled the space, casting shadows in eerie and strange patterns. The fox seemed to grow from the sheer force of power that he was channeling, focused and deep in his mystical ritual.
As the dragon came to his senses, he realized that this might be his final opportunity. Shaking his head clear of the debris from his fall, he turned, preparing to charge at the smaller fox. He called upon his breath once more, knowing that just one dousing of the powerful magic would put an end to this fight, however he could not open his snout. Bright orange chains appeared around his mouth, and as he moved forward towards the fox, he soon stumbled and found that his legs were bound as well. As the fox started the second spell of this series, his eyes glared right at the fox's own, realizing that his defeat may be eminent. Refusing to back down, the dragon moved swiftly, carving an intricate symbol in the air with his thick reptilian tail.
The energies within the cave trembled, clashing and swirling against each other. The fox struggled to finish his ritual, the second part finished and his voice starting the third spell. He knew that should he finish, it would bide him enough time to finish this once and for all. However, he did not account for the dragon's own mystical prowess, as the tail-drawn circle completed. The fox's eyes opened wide as realization of the symbol drove home. The ensuing battle of wills grew intense as both the dragon and fox lived on borrowed time, struggling to finish one final spell.
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At least that's how he remembered the tale being told. The blacksmith's son knelt at the small spring, pulling a cup of the sweet water to his lips. As he sated his thirst, he recalled the last few days, his body covered with sweat and toil from his climb up the unused trail. It had been nearly a thousand years since a soul from the village dared to come up this far, and the last time he started the climb, he was just a pup, trying to prove to his friends that he was not a cowardly little cur. Still, last time he went on this trek, it was not nearly as far, nor with as daunting a task.
Splashing away a bit of the water from the rottweiler's face, he took in a deep breath. The old man ranted and raved as he worked on the bellows just three mornings before, claiming that a dark force infused the entirety of the peak. If not for the rumblings that shortly followed, after, the town council would have ignored the man's ravings. He certainly didn't expect them to vote that he go up and check the source. He pondered if they honestly felt that he was strong enough for this task, or they were merely cowards. Regardless, the village would not allow him to return until he had a full assessment of what was going on around Sentinel Mountain's peak.
Scout only allowed himself a brief stretch before continuing forth. It wasn't long until he was nearing the end of the path. His pulled his shirt down over his tight paunch, a product of too many late night ales and too much work at the forge. Despite the height, the heat from the peak clung to his black fur, matting down and making his orange hair frizz slightly. He could feel a cold, ominous wind blow away the flecks of sweat almost as soon as they approached. As his eyes traveled up the path, he could see way. Where only rocks rested before, against the side of the barren peak, an entrance stood. It was clearly carved, but larger than any single man, and perhaps the home of a giant.
Pulling his great axe from his back, Scout inspected himself before heading forward. He reached down and adjusted his clothing for fit, making sure his kilt was in place and that his piercings were in no danger of falling off. With a deep breath, his large, muscular chest rose and fell, steeling himself for what may lie ahead. With deft and practiced hands, he lit the small lantern at his hip side, originally brought along to see the path during the darker times of the night. He never expected to go inside a cavern. The dog swallowed in apprehension, briefly considering returning to the village. Yet, he knew that the council would be furious without a full report. Steeling his courage, he stepped forward into the darkness.
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A furnace. The damned mountain's a furnace. Scout mused as he glanced back and the bright and sunny cave entrance behind him. The cool reprieve outside was only a momentary fluke of the weather. The inside of the cave was nearly intense, warm blasts of air pressing out at him in regular intervals. Although long used to the heat, this was muggy, heavy and seemed to surround him like a deep pool. The heat threatened to sap the smith of his own strength, and in an attempt to assuage the dampness, he paused a moment. Placing his pack down, he lifted his shirt, showing off a pair of thick slab-like pecs. Sweat flicked off his fur, trailing down over his taut, curved stomach, with a small happy trail of sparse fiery red hair moving down into his kilt.
He chucked the shirt aside, towards his pack. Yet, even without his top, the heat threatened to overpower him. He started to pant, despite himself, again considering returning to town. Just as he started to turn back, a light caught his eye. He paused and returned his gaze deeper into the cave. He turned down his lantern, easing the glow until he realized that, yes, he saw a strange, violet glow. His brow furrowed in puzzlement as the unnatural light grew ever so slightly in the cave. Forgetting his pack and hefting his axe once more, he inched forward. His fear and curiosity battled, but the violet light was one that he never witnessed before, and this was certainly something worth reporting to the council.
Scout approached with apprehension, easing himself around the corner from where the light shone, leaning against the wall. He took one glance around before his mouth widened agape. Within this rocky home rested a palace made for the gods. The source of the stream outside bubbled out, running in a small river that separated the opening into a closer and further half. Sumptuous pillows rested near cushions, all on furniture carved from the very stone itself. It appeared nothing like the natural cave in which the blacksmith expected. Yet, even with the lavishness that basked within the violet glow, his eyes fell upon something even more shocking.
Large green scales reflected the purple like which diffused the room, emanating from strange arcane markings upon the creature's flesh. The markings circled around its neck legs and arms, as well as around its head. The beast filled the room, easily taking up the size of his shop, home and then more, larger than any living being that Scout had ever seen. As his eyes took in the sight, he noticed something else, for this reptile was very clearly, and very obviously male. A member larger than his own self rose up into the air throbbing needfully, a ring of symbols emblazoned on its glans. The dragon's musky aroma wafted over to Scout, filling his senses with a single stretched out beat of his wings.
Scout blushed, inspite of himself, having not seen such a massive example of manhood. He panted again, the pheromones filling his senses and making him even warmer. His kilt started to tent out, and before he realized it, he had taken several steps into the lavish den. The symbols on the dragon swirled in the air everywhere, and he could follow them, but they always led back to the dragon. Just as he came to the realization of where he was at, he noticed that the dragon was watching the young adventurer, with casual, yet clear lust.
_Why not come closer?_The voice echoed within his mind, and he found that his body had moved another step forward, nearing the brook where the dragon's own juices flowed into. Scout gripped his axe, remembering the cunning of the dragon in the stories, as well as his ferocity. He licked his lips, the head not abating, but only growing as he moved closer. His grip slipped with sweat, and he silently wished that he had something to drink. He knew the voice was not his, but the water looked so inviting.
Please, have a drink. It's fresh. The dragon motioned a claw at the stream near him, and the idea of cool refreshing water seemed unbearably tempting. He licked his lips again and eyed the dragon, moving to the distant side, away from the source and the dragon for a drink. The dragon seemed less interested in fighting it seems. As he watched the dragon with guarded caution, he reached down to get a drink. The liquid which filled his body eased some of the heat. Yet there was something odd about the water. His eyes followed the stream up until it dawned upon him: the dragon's font of precum had been draining into the water. His eyes grew wide and he stared at the at the dragon in shock and rage.
Yet anger didn't hold. It slipped away as he knelt down for another sip. He was so thirsty after all, and the water was right there. He blushed as he felt his member brush, now hard, against the fabric of his kilt. With his cup he took a deeper gulp, moaning as the cool feeling rushed over him again. Good Boy. The voice echoed again in his mind and he panted, the coolness replaced with a nice fuzzy feeling of contentment. The dragon chuckled as the rottweiler started to lap from the polluted waters with greater enjoyment.
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Scout awoke to the rumbling sounds around him. He was not aware of how much time had passed, or what had become of him. He recalled bathing in the liquid, stripping himself bare and giving in to the feelings that pervaded him, but could not think of much else. He felt as if he took several days off at the tavern, drinking and carrying on, deep in the cups, but his head held no pain. He looked around and realized that he was right before the dragon. He stood up, and blushed as the warmth of lust washed over him.
Although the dragon had moved, he still remained in the same state as before, throbbing heavily and needfully, the violet arcane markings shifting over his body. As he openly gawked at the dragon, he spread his legs, showing his plump, needy, tan sheath. Had he been more aware of his condition, he may have noticed a similar ring of symbols now forming around similar to the dragon. The rottweiler whined, feeling the lust build up and forcing his member to poke out, clearly in the mood. The dragon, turning his gaze to the now conscious rottie merely chuckled.
I see that you've awakened, Pup. His voice spoke with more clarity than before, filling his mind and pressing out other thoughts that formed. It almost sounded regal, demanding, and definitely carried an air of clear dominance. _You will stand at attention before me._Once again, the command went more to his body and less to him, but he felt an urge and a want to obey. The thought filled him with exhilaration and pleasure. He whined as he spread his legs and moved his arms behind his back, showing off all of his assets.
That's a good Pup. Your village sent you up here to discover what was going on. You have discovered eternal obedience and pleasure. You serve me now, just as the village will soon enough._The dragon's words were true, and Scout thought of the village. There was something about the village that he couldn't put his finger on. It somehow seemed unimportant, compared to the dragon and his den. He stared straightforward, his chin held up, remaining at attention as the dragon addressed him. _You need to give in fully, to show that you wish to serve me and my carnal needs.
"Yes Sir," Scout spoke with more subservience than he intended. He whimpered as his member slowly hardened, pressing against his sheath tip and dribbling pre on the stone below. He remained in place, his need growing, becoming a tangible thing and suppressing other thoughts. The need to serve the dragon, and his needs superceded his other desires. He blinked once and felt the hold take him. As he stood there, the dragon pointed at a spot before him. The scaled beast chanted, and before Scout, on the ground, sat a stone member, a smaller version of the dragon's, covered in purple runes. Sit, Pup. The dragon commanded, the glowing member ominous before the dog.
He couldn't think. He could not reconsider. Before he was aware of it, Scout was kneeling down on all fours, slowly easing the tip of the toy against him. He had never dared to try something like this before, and his heart was pumping with a deep rooted anticipation that did not feel entirely natural. A part of him struggled, reaching up to rediscover his identity, but his hands kept working. With a jolt, he felt the tip start to ease into him, wrapping his mind with bolts of pleasure. He panted and whined, slowly becoming lost to the lust of driving the toy deeper and deeper.
Inch after inch of the toy eased into him, ten in all, and far bigger than he would have even dreamed taking. Scout dribbled freely on the ground: from both his tongue and his now free canine cock. He felt it bounce up against his gut, leaving a line of pre in his fur. Yet he did not seem to mind in the slightest. Each inch pressed deeper into him, the pain fading just as soon as it was felt, leaving behind a sensation of lusty fullness. He growled a bit as his tailhole engulfed the member. The last few inches proved the most difficult, having to use the ground itself to sit full on the stone cock.
That's a Good Boy, Pup._The dragon cooed at him, moving closer to wrap around him with warm, greasy scales. Where he may have felt fear and revulsion before, now he felt only lustful pride at obeying the huge beast. His struggles were soon over, and a ring of strange symbols appeared around his neck. You are mine now. _You have always been mine. You will serve your Lustful Dragon Master.
Nothing else mattered to Scout at that point, the dragon's magic having permeated even his most normal thoughts, twisting them and changing them to suit the dragon's needs. He was never a blacksmith. That was a distant dream, a fantasy created to serve his Master. He was always Master's Pup, and obedient horny dog dedicated to obeying his every whim. His voice sounded happy and enthusiastic as he barked a bit "Yes Master!" He panted and licked along the dragon's scales, loving and wanting.
The dragon pet the rottweiler with a claw, his own member still hard and oozing openly with pre. He considered for a moment and thought about the village. A broad smile crept upon his snout, toothy and predatory, at what he could do. He turned to the pup and chuckled darkly. _You will help your Master gain others to serve him. When you accept this as your life goal, you may cum._The dragon chuckled, squeezing the poor, enslaved canine's member and watching him squirm around the toy. As he pressed down, Scout seemed to moan, squirming for just an instant.
It did not take long for Scout to finally give in, his member spurting seed up into the air, sealing the magics that wrapped around him. He shivered as the markings glowed brightly, forming bonds around his mind that changed his very nature. As the last of his thoughts faded away, he panted and licked the seed off the dragon's scales languidly. Savoring the flavor, his member started to harden once again. He rumbled and leaned against the dragon, resting up against the pulsing member that he loved so much.
The dragon, watching the afterglow of his Pup, looked off into the sunset, knowing that tomorrow will be another night for the hamlet below, He chuckled once more, his head filled with the images of the perverted things he would do to the villagers, all starting with his one Pup.