Commission: Rise of the Serpent General Part 1
Story by dracologist on SoFurry
Defious is still young, but has grown into a well respected man. Unfortunately for him, he was born between the love of two monsters and because of this is always at risk of the roaming adventurers. When he returns home one day to find his parents missing, his home disheveled and two coins from the kingdom to the north his only choice is to follow the clue and try to track down what had happened to his family, but first he knows that he will need an escort to get him there safely.
This has to be one of my first stories that I've written completely in first person. The way that I did it was thinking about him sitting at a table and telling someone the story and just writing down what I think he'd say to that person. If anything else it was a huge amount of fun, and I loved doing it. It's like role playing with only one single huge 4000 word post.
Rise of the Serpent General
The names that have been bestowed upon me are both few and numerous. Many I'll never hear and few that I still hear whispered upon today. I'm a voice within the tails that scare children to stay in their beds and stay clear of the uncharted forests. My reputation drives women and men to swoon at the very idea of my approach. I've been known as The Upriser, The Conqueror, The Seater of Demons, The Butcher, The Lover, The Peacemaker, and so many more. These names mold me, form me, drive me to seek a way to earn them as they unfold their own claim both for and against me. Here I am now as a man who has sought what was most dear, and found it only to find out that he lost it long before he ventured to seek it. If tales are to be told of great men, and great deeds then venture deeper into this and know that those who were thought to be great, thought to be powerful are only insects to the harp strings of time that will eventually tell them their time has come just as mine has now. If a story was to be told from now it would be short, but instead such a tale needs to start years before, decades ago when the sun burned hot in the sky, and the lush green of grass tickled over my legless slithering figure every time I found myself with just enough coin with nothing to do with it except locate an encampment that sometimes found itself with just enough new goods to keep me venturing back.
"You gonna buy sompten or what?" The hard tone that rung through my ears was met with my eyes flashing over that grey-ish green skin, a sight that looked almost sickly on most people but for these orcs that tended this camp it was something that I'd grown used to. There was a stern look in his eyes, one of judgment, one of true cruelty, but such a look could only hold so long before the crack of a grin creeped from the depths of his lips. The act that he was putting on had ended, but still he held on only long enough to feel the sensation of laughter pour out of his mouth like a wave from the ocean that I'd never seen until a few more of those titles were under my non-existent belt, "Take yur time Defious, you a-ways buy sompten when you come all te way here."
It could have been the fact that the shopkeeper was an old friend of mine from my childhood, or maybe it had to do with the fact that such a gruff and commonly heard tone around here had opened my well learned instincts of shifting my shoulders forward and my ears back so that when I looked upon his less than appealing face the tone of cuteness that I'd tried to present was at it's very peak. I was a young adult now, but that only meant that I still had a couple good years of using that trick to get out of fights with people that were not only a good two feet taller than me but built like the side of a castle. Garigoth was among the best of their kind, or at least the kindest, but that didn't say much when I recall seeing him crush the knuckles of a common thief trying to steal things only few moon cycles ago. The way he talked was something to look at, but saying it was an accent was far from normal when I already know that the reason of his shortened speech was due to those massive protruding lower canine that came up the sides of his small and easily hidden nose like two daggers waiting to be used on anyone that happened to bother mentioning that they existed at all.
In a world of monsters one might find it hard to believe that there was a ranking order amongst species. Orcs and naga were close to one another around the middle so common friendships were easy to find as long as you know how to keep a mouth shut and a stance strong. A warrior race valuing combat that most didn't have any more desire to be involved in, or maybe just couldn't find the opportunity to take advantage of, but the naga were set in a different culture, a culture of family and intellect. It was only the more question as to why my mother fell for the man that she did, the man that she kept in her house when he wasn't out tending fields and repairing what he could for those harsh winter winds that cut well past the bone. Even as a half bred naga I was never looked down on, as long as I moved around on my tail and failed to have legs to alternate I was a naga in these eyes. Scaled from the stomach down with a deep green layer that passed over all the way to the very tip of my tail. What was ignorable to them was the figure that I had the most questions about where black fur rose thickly at my chest, neck and shoulders, and less thickly among my arms and face. My skull was the shape of my dad's but my mind was my mothers, with any luck. Where my father failed to deliver any information about himself at all in his past life his common answer had started like a mantra when I asked, filling my young perked ears with "I'm here now, so it doesn't matter." But it did, at least to me. At some point my father was a sailor, traveling the deep seas where a storm had washed him on shore and my mother had found him, and in the time of caring for him and conceived what can be now seen as a rather decent story teller.
His lycan blood coursed through my veins just as it had his and countless cursed generations before him, but people didn't see that, they didn't notice the cross of wolf and snake, only knowing me by my name, and my yearning to spend coin when it came into my possession. The goods that were before me stood in very limited options. A book with a torn cover that read in a language I wasn't sure I knew from cover alone, a silver set of spoons and forks that were only useful as a housing decoration, a dagger that the orcs had oh-so-kindly cleaned their blood off of from when they stole these goods from some wandering traveler for the sake of selling. It was a world of money, of finances, but as long as I didn't question where it came from they wouldn't question why I wanted to know. When the coins came down across the table this young lycanaga would almost sheepishly point to the book, valuing knowledge over the killing force of a knife that was destined to be sold before nightfall in a place like this.
"The book, Garigoth." I said in a soft and kind tone, trying to act like my mind was still too innocent to know the troubles of the world around me, trying to play the child card that was cast upon me simply by my size alone.
It came as a shock when I looked up at his face, if you could even call it that, and saw his head shaking from side to side, "Sorry kid, yur a liddle short fur it."
"No... count again, I got it." I was lying, my eyes turning to lock onto his in a passing glance, but as he counted he found that the numbers were right so that when he scooped the coin into his hand to find it's way into that well over-stitched pocket my knuckles were free from crushing when I reached my fingers out to take hold of that book and claim it as my own. It was a little trick on my part, but in a world like this, in an encampment like this, you take any hypnotic tricks that you can find.
* * *
With my hand wrapped around the book I could feel the leather binding. The cut across the front of it that continued to trace my finger tips over and over again. By the time I was halfway through the field of thick, untamed, grass that I had long since decided was a shortcut back to my home I had already memorized the feel of the binding and the texture of the book. This had never provided me any real saved time from the encampment to my parent's house, but if there was ever any kind of excuse that I could use to slither through the grass and feeling it's long blades wrap around my ever shifting tail then I was going to find a reason to use it. The very scent of tall grass filled my nose like fresh baked bread, the feeling of every single blade that passed my scaled body as I pushed my way through the field, the very sensation of hot sun clinging to my figure like a blanket brought me yard by yard closer to the home that I'd grown up in from the time I'd been born. It was that reason alone that I knew something was wrong. I'd traveled this distance before, hundreds of times, but here I was catching myself in a still, finding myself bring brought to a halt. My lack of motion didn't come from something stopping me, but instead the lack of something having the same effect. By this time the sound of my father working in the fields, or in his shop to repair something should have been heard, the warm buttered scent of my mother's cooking should should be flowing through the air to help guide me the rest of the way home, but none of that existed. There was a lack of what should be, and that's what stopped me before driving me forward at twice the speed I'd traveled before.
The book almost fell from my fingers, only being gripped by the scarred cut across the front that allowed me to keep hold of it while my focus was entirely set on something being wrong at home. The race that I made through this meadow was no longer something of joy and wonder, of pleasured sensation and grass smell. All of that was ignored for the sake of my hurried and rushed movements back home. When I caught sight of that mason built house growing in from the distance my worry only grew. I could see the shop, the field, the windows of the building, but there was nobody there to move about to bring life to it. It wasn't until I found myself dashing inside that my race had finally stopped even if the throbbing of my heart continued to charge on through my veins. My eyes scanned the room where I could look over the condition that it was left in. Something in my mind showed me where everything should be, everything was supposed to be, but as this gaze turned and caught all of these things on the floor I knew that something horrible had happened. Clay pots were shattered, flowers thrown about onto the floor, our personal odds and ends having been torn from the shelves and drawers to be scattered about the building, but most importantly there was no sign of my parents who had my greatest focus. Something was off, though, and while I found myself slithering through this building that felt so safe for so long, the debris that had been left behind parted at the force of my shifting tail scooting me through my home.
As I came to the bed room the sight of the sheets and blankets being overturned left me in the same state that I found the rest of this place in, but somehow far more relaxed. Something about the bed not having been too disturbed further than the rest of this place gave me hope that what had happened here wasn't nearly as bad as I'd been brought to believe in these kinds of situations. Even in the light of this terrible event my heart resisted the shatter that it would have otherwise been forced to take, but it was only after my quick sigh of relief that I'd notice something there that shouldn't have been. Coins existed on the bed where they otherwise wouldn't, fallen to the side from what had to have been a stack at some point and leaving me to reach my black furred fingers down to wrap around the small metal circles and lift them up. These weren't the same coins that we commonly use around here, though, and instead they looked as though they were foreign. The print of a human head with a crown on one side and then a similar print, but slightly different on the other. I thought maybe these were brothers, and then remembered quickly that there was a kingdom to the north that was ruled over two thrones. This land, known to many as being the monster lands, was a place that most humans didn't bother to venture these days, but if the kings were sending their soldiers down in order to mess in these lands then I had no choice but to go and find out why. I had hope, I had faith, I knew my parents and felt that above anything else that they were still alive, and that I could get them back. I didn't know what kind of journey I was setting myself up for, but if it meant fetching those that I loved then no distance was too far. I knew that meant that I needed to find someone that could get me into the capital, but such a search wasn't going to be as difficult as the rest of what awaited me.
* * *
I could feel the face of the kind pressed into the palm of my hand, the feeling of those coins being shifted and rolled between my fingers, and in some way I knew deep down that they were just normal currency of their kingdom, but in so many more ways I was hoping that somehow squeezing the coin caused some kind of harm to the people I knew were responsible for my missing parents. My mother and father had set up that house out of the way from towns, villages, and even monster encampments that were such a journey to get to, but there were reasons for this. Where the normal humans, elves, dwarfs, and handful of other races tended to see my parents as irredeemable monsters, being in an encampment run by said monsters would only bring me into harms way when the common placed adventurer happened by and set his sights on the encampment as a means to get free loot. It was safer for all of us to be out of the way from all of that, but at that time it was very clear to me that we simply didn't venture out far enough to be away from such things. There was a constant growl on my lips, the feeling like my head was going to pop from tense muscles that were pumping blood up into my brain. All I knew was that I was traveling north, passing over the dirt roads, cobble paths, and the thick plains of high grass. My body no longer finding the enjoyment from the blades licking across my figure, the heat of the bright sun shining down over me, or even the soft breeze that pushed through the field in waves. Nothing met my pleasure now as my mind was locked on nothing more than finding the people responsible and making them know far too well that they should never have dreamed up taking away what I hold most dear.
I had the advantage in the area that I had grown up in. I knew that if I traveled far enough in a single direction then I'd come across what was often times a wandering set of guards from the northern towns who often venture out. I can imagine it was an easy enough assignment for anyone to head out, see if anything was looking to attack the town, and then come back, but maybe that was why finding them sitting alongside the road in mid-conversation was such an easy task to perform. My movement slowed to a crawl, even with narrowed eyes I could feel my racing heart beating in my throat as the slow slithering movement of my figure took my body closer to theirs. I could feel the grass being pushed, but it's movement so slow that not a single sound lifted from those blades. I knew that once this was done there was no turning back, there was no going back home and forgetting about this all, not that I would have. My arms were shaking as they reached out slowly, time seemed to slow instantly when I felt my fingers wrapping around the back of their armor, pulling on them, jerking them towards me so that as I turned my head from one side to the next they were forced to look directly into my gaze. I could see their eyes clearly, their shocked and worried look washing away as my mind reached out for theirs and crushed their mentality like a grape. My hypnotic gaze dominating and filling their mind with my will. At first they were tense and ready to fight back, but that only lasted seconds before their figures relaxed and their need to be ordered proved itself.
I lifted my body up at that point, my black fur showing well across the shadow that I was casting over them. I was trying to intimidate, to run any lasting will out of the with fear, but when they approached me and started rubbing over my well toned figure I learned immediately that they simply didn't have any left. They had submitted to me, mentally, physically, they were mine, and with their human fingers rubbing through my scaled hips all I could do was give them what they clearly wanted. Naga don't have sheaths like furred animals, or free hanging dicks like humans, but instead we have slits, and with the first presence of her soft tongue running over the edge of my slit my mind clouded, my body tensed, and my eyes opened. I can thank my mother for the well contained member that her species gave me, but I can thank my dad for the nice thick and juicy wolf cock that grew freely from that depth. I could feel the thickness spread my slit, stretching it to the side as the spear-like cock rose from it like a branch on a tree. Every moment that they made on that shaft, every lick, every kiss, left me to moan until I finally reached my hand down to the top of their heads and pulled them both in closer. I hadn't expected my hypnosis to bring out such a yearning desire from them, but with their need clearly showing I wasn't about to stop them. Even I had to admit that it was hard to try and get them to stop, the kisses, the licks, the sensation that was bring brought out from these guards left my body to shiver, but licking alone wasn't something that was going to calm my member, it wasn't something that was going to save my desires that these two had forced out of me. I was going to need them, to use them, to show them why such a loving naga doesn't need to be bothered all the way out here.
I can still feel where my hand pressed against his shoulders, guiding him down. His body followed against my will to the very letter as he moved himself with just the slightest touch down to his knees, then his rump, then his back and my body found itself hovering over his with fingers digging into those shoulders. The heat of my breath mimicked that of the heat at the front of my hips and while he rested there, his hands gripped at those hips of his, sliding the pants down off of his body to be kicked away, exposing that peach human flesh and the rock stiffness that existed there with mine. For a moment my hips lowered, bringing our cocks together, grinding, rubbing, and the soft trickle of pre from both tips mixing against one another before my sticky slime was dragged across the length of his shaft. I went to press my dick into his rear, finding the tight seal attempting to push back against me, but with an easy shove even that pucker had to spread and make way for my pointed tip as it drilled inside. I could see his mouth open, his eyes clinching, and his arms reaching up. At first I thought he'd somehow broken from the trance I put him in, but when his fingers folded around the backside of my neck and his hot breath brushed over the crook of my neck I knew that he was still mine. The fast slam of my hips into his body claimed that statement, the knot already bouncing off of his rear entrance only to be ground down on.
His female friend was already moving around me, maybe she didn't want to be left out, but no matter the reason when she wrapped those arms around my tail and started to lift I had to turn my eyes back to her. That snake half was quite heavy, quite meaty, and seeing her trying to lift it drove me to help but doing the work for her so that as she kissed and licked across my scales the very feeling of her tongue lapping across my rear, washing over the tightness of my own pucker made my hips jump. She wanted to pleasure me just as her fellow guard was, and this alone drove the heavy moan from my lungs and motivated my hips to drop immediately against his, slamming that rock hard dick through his rear once again while pre leaked clearly into the depths of that hole as well as across his own abs, coating them in the clear liquid need that was being released. Every hard hit that I made into his body brought that tail back pushing it against her tongue which was already sliding through my defenses and tasting along my walls. The wiggling feeling of it forced my already throbbing dick to pulsate even harder within her friends body and leaving my head to fold backwards. At the time I wasn't overly used to sex, and so my endurance for lasting was a bit lacking, that changed further down the line, but at that point I knew I was about to pop, and pop I did. I could feel every rushing wave rip from the head of my cock to beat against the back wall of that well stretched rear, and could feel the return of his own lust crashing up against my abs when he came just after. The sensation of that release left me to moan, pant, and struggle just to pull out while my worn down body looked to my two panting mind-slaves.
"You will take me to your capital at once." I ordered them, looking on at the male that I'd just taken. There was something different now, but at that time I didn't have the experience to know what that was. With their nodding heads both would start back off towards their capital city, taking the clearest route and leaving those pants behind as a memento of our events.