Tribal Stream Story 2: Potion of the Warrior
Sanmer seems to have quite the need to make dragons submit, and now he's come up with a way to tap into a new crop of them, molding them to his needs and desires without having to deal with the public eye criticizing him for it.
Pretty sexily done, too.
Potion of the Warrior
for Sanmer
by Draconicon
Eklat walked with his fellow dragonlings along the forest path, following behind the new shaman. The four of them occasionally talked with each other, but for the last five minutes, Eklat had been completely silent, focused instead on the white fox ahead of them.
It was still strange to think of the smaller, white-furred creature as the tribe's shaman. Since before time (at least, according to the stories) there had never been anything but dragons within the tribe. All others were to be hunted, or destroyed. To be worthy of any other treatment, one had to be a dragon. Their chief had bestowed the title of 'dragon' on the fox, but it didn't feel right to the blue dragon.
With each step, he went through what he remembered of the ritual. In the past, the dragons would be brought to a great clearing in the middle of the forest, away from the village on the side of the mountain. In the past, the great ones had hunted for the more powerful beasts of the forest, proving their strength and their manhood for the rest of the tribe to see. In the past, the tribe had lost people, but their strength had been undeniable, absolute in the eyes of the rest of the world as they knew it.
Now...
Eklat looked down at the vials hanging from the fox's waist. The shaman had told them that they were a potion, a warrior's brew that would allow them to grow to manhood in no time. The young dragon didn't like the idea, but the chief had said that they didn't have time to stick with the traditions anymore. This was how they had to do it now.
Why it needed to be just the four of them, however, rather than anyone else, baffled him. In the past, it had been a village-wide endeavor, to show their support for the hunters. Now, ever since the fox had come, it was nothing but a farce, something that only a few individuals were allowed to see, and nobody talked about anything but the potions afterwards.
Not him, Eklat decided. The next hunters should know the honor that came with being warriors, not the easy potions of this stranger. It stopped after their initiation.
Soon they reached the clearing, and the fox turned to face them. Eklat was once again struck at the strangeness of this male, who not only had white fur, but a white coat. Admittedly, it was spotted with dirt after all his time out here, but it was whiter than his fur was, and had an enormous number of pockets to it. The fox also wore boots out here, something that no dragon could understand. The world was meant to be felt; anything that got in the way should have been cast away.
"Alright, you guys. Are you ready to become warriors?"
They nodded, though Eklat suppressed a wince at his way of talking. It was far too...dismissing, of everything.
"Good to hear. Now, I have one of these for everyone, and I want to make sure that you all get a good dose of your potion before you give it back."
"Why do we need to be out here, shaman?"
The fox looked at him, but Eklat refused to look away. The fox had been getting away with everything, and he needed to know what was going on.
"What are you talking about?"
"Why are we out here? If the potion is all that makes us warriors, as you claim, then why not take it in the village? Why must we take it in private?"
"Because, as you might have seen, everyone comes back a lot bigger than they leave."
"And that is a problem?"
"It is when you combine it with all the aggression that comes with it."
"Aggression?"
"They get mad."
Eklat glared at the fox.
"Hey, you asked."
"I knew what the word meant, shaman."
"Oh, aren't you a bright one? Anyway, it makes them bigger, and for a little while, a lot angrier. They have a lot of stuff to work out, so it's better to do it out here rather than back at the village."
"Do you mean that we're going to fight each other?"
Eklat looked at the red dragon Metik. It was a good question, and he arched an eyebrow as he waited for an answer.
The fox shrugged.
"You might fight each other. You might start punching trees. It really depends on how you guys react to it."
"In other words, you don't know."
"Of course not. It's different for everyone, but it always has the same end result; the strongest dragons you can possibly be."
The others seemed to accept that, but Eklat couldn't shake a feeling of nervousness as he took his vial. It was very strange, very...outsider-ish, to be thinking of putting this old ritual away. If he had been given the choice, he would do the same thing that all the others had done, risk of death or not.
But he didn't have the choice. This was the way of the future, apparently, and if he didn't take it, he would be banished. That was the other part that the chief had mentioned; they were to listen to the shaman or risk banishment.
With a deep breath, he leaned his head back and drank the potion.
At first, he didn't notice any effect, and he handed the empty container back to the fox. As he moved, however, he felt dizzy, like things were moving too fast, and he had to lean back against a tree at the edge of the clearing. He grabbed for one of the branches to support himself, but no sooner had he grabbed it than it splintered under his fingers.
"Wha..."
"It's starting!"
The fox's grin startled him, but the dragon was more focused on the fact that he was changing. Even as he looked down at the shattered branch again, his arms were thickening, changing to form something more like the tree-trunk limbs of the full warriors. His breath came hard and fast as the muscles rippled up from his hands, swelling his limbs and drawing them out into thick bulges, each one capable of growing bigger if he flexed.
It didn't stop there. His fingers twitched, his hand throbbing as each one popped out longer, fingers growing by a minimum of an inch at least, if not more. Each one popping out felt strangely pleasurable, leaving him gasping and moaning as his body changed.
As his arms grew, so did his legs, pushing his head further up the trunk of the tree as they expanded. Swelling out to the sides as well as downwards, he felt himself soaring further from the ground, his head swimming with the power that filled his limbs, that burned in his body as his chest hardened, the muscles becoming as hard and solid as the plated scales along his torso.
Eklat lifted a hand to his head, groaning as his snout lengthened to match his new body, growing proportional once more. His snout popped outwards, literally cracking and reshaping, but in a bizarrely pleasurable way. It felt good enough that his loincloth was rapidly pushed aside down below, what little of it was still covering him to begin with. He leaned back, clutching the trunk of the tree as his body continued to grow more and more powerful, his tail lashing around behind him.
He looked down at the other dragons, who grew like he had. To a one, they were a head taller at least than they had been that morning, and most of them were taller still. They had been far from weak, but their arms and legs were the limbs of gods, of powerful beasts that could take down anything in their way. And their cocks...
Eklat was no stranger to them, no dragon was. The women were off limits save for breeding times, to keep the village from becoming too big, so they were used to enjoying one another. To see them out and growing, however, particularly to this degree, was a new experience.
Metik in particular was growing massive. The blue dragon watched his friend as he grew hard, and then kept growing. It was like little bumps were flooding up from the rest of his body, rustling under the flesh to make it bigger and bigger. Each time the bumps reached the tip of the cock, it seemed to grow larger as they were absorbed, growing past his natural 8 inches to 10, to 12, and finally stopping at a total of 15 inches.
The other dragons were equally endowed, including him, a wave of big, hard cocks that throbbed with their excited heartbeats. Eklat slowly reached down, his fingers wrapping around his shaft.
From the second he touched it, he couldn't let go. It was like some divine compulsion was laid on him, and he started stroking, hard and fast. Grunting from the pleasure, he was joined by the others, and soon they were panting, groaning in unison from how good their cocks made them feel.
And in the middle of it all, the fox shaman smiled.
"That's it, dragons. Keep on stroking while the 'potion' finishes its work. You're all looking so good already, but I know you can get better."
Eklat knew he shouldn't listen to the shaman, but his body didn't. Everything in it worked to obey, stroking faster, harder along his cock. With each thrust against his hand, Eklat felt something rubbing away, something getting erased in his head. It almost hurt, but then his cock would pulse, and he'd forget about it. Stroke, burn, pulse, good. Stroke, burn, pulse, good. On and on it went, the dragon unable to stop, and soon, not wanting to stop.
As his climax got closer and closer, the dragon was aware of a spreading pattern across his chest. It pulsed as it emerged, a series of wings with a small tail between it. It was the same tattoo that the other warriors had when they returned, something of a symbol of power, they'd said when they came back. Elkat always thought they did it to themselves, but now he was getting it while he was just stroking himself.
His curiosity faded again as the pleasure suddenly swelled once more, rising so high that he was taken over the edge. Roaring, he came, followed by all the others of his group, spurting his load onto the earth below.
#
Sanmer smiled at the four dragons, each one of them a prime sample of masculinity. Some more than others, of course; Eklat, for all his distrust, had grown into the largest and best muscled of the bunch, but none of them looked shameful. His nanites had done the job very, very well.
"Hmmm...Metik, I think. You'll just have to disappear, this time. There's a lot of demand for buff red dragons out there. The rest of you will go back. But until then..."
Sanmer smiled as he slipped out of his lab coat, laying it down on a nearby stump. It wasn't fear of fighting that made him take the new adults out of the village. It was what he had them do, to and with him, that he wanted to keep private. He reached behind him, rubbing under his tail a bit.
Good, still nice and slick, he thought.
"Alright, dragons. One last orgy to send Metik off before you never see him again."
The dragons swarmed him, and Sanmer went under with a grin. He might control them, but he never minded being under a nice hard dragon. Being under four was just a bonus.
The End