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Potion Tester by:MalicTheWriter

Through a stretch of ill fortune Frysco found themselves occupying the position of unlabeled potion tester for the Order of Eccentric Mages. Known well about the world for their self aggrandized and nomenclaturally specified eccentricity; the Order's unorganized store rooms were in the process of a deep and abiding clean.

To this end it was determined that the fastest way to discern what specific potions might well have which particular effect, a great call was put all about the world to attract participants willing to, out of some degree of desperation, sign away their rights to be the subject of these potions.

You could tap out at any time of course, let the effects of whatever you last drank play out. Some among the crowd who waited in line with Frysco had gotten rather lucky in that respect, finding themselves drinking up potent immunization to all matter of physical harm. It was just such a drink Frscyo incorrectly guessed he might be drinking soon enough.

The bottle was rather simple, filled with a purplish pink liquid that almost looked scaly in the right light. The symbol on the side showcased a great number of snakes crossed out with a deep red X which to the gryphon's mind implied a kind of venom immunity naturally enough. Clearly the Order was skeptical of such an interpretation however, otherwise they would have saved a potion that gave lifelong venom immunity to the drinker for someone else.

No matter, their loss was Frysco's gain. The colorful gryphon downed the potion with haste. The second it rolled down into his beak he could tell something was wrong. For one it did not pour out so much as slither out of the bottle. It felt quite like he was drinking down a vial of slickened gummy snakes, which as much seemed keen to crawl down his throat as they had out their container.

Frysco tried to cough them up, but the errant slivers of the potion quickly began to burrow not just down his throat, but into the thick lining of his beak as well. He could feel one such extension of the potion crawl up into the left side of his brain, and soon enough the creature took his left eye for its own. Frysco blinked, one eyes slit rather suddenly like as serpent's own, shrinking down as he felt the seemingly ghostly impressions of snakes began to crawl through the whole of his body, taking on more of him as they crawled.

Suddenly, and rather indelicately, he pitched forward and began to beg for assistance. But words quickly became something beyond the avien's capacity thanks in part to a snake taking his tongue and using it to manifest an entirely indepentant body. So as he called for help, his slick tongue went rolling out of his mouth with a hiss.

“Well there's no stopping this," spoke one of the onlookers, “Someone get the nets, we're going to have to capture all of these serpents. If there's still some of you in there, let it be known that you have signed away your ownership of self by taking on this risk. Your many lives will be well cared for, and you will be the familiar to many a witch and wizard should your individual serpents pass the proper aptitude tests."

Frysco's fate was spelled out in front of him as explicitly as it could be. His once beautiful feathers were much too busy errupting into the variously colored scales of the countless snakes bounding out and through him. His sense of self had begun at last to fracture completely, as the countless curious minds of the lizards began to slither through at first more of him, and soon enough more of them as he dropped to his knees.

Trying to cry out as one singular creature accomplished rather little, what had once been a splaying beak now hissed and slithered two beak colored snakes too busy wrapping themselves around one another as he failed to express the last little gasps of his long overdue dissatisfaction with such a fate.

There was nothing to be done. Each and every individual serpent had as much a claim to his soul as the other, and he found his will nested strangely across the lot of them. And yet yet all the while his individual control over them was negligible. By now his body had crumpled into a pile before the onlookers as some dimly aware part of him thought just enough to be embarrassed.

Embarrassment did not stop the arousal of course. The sort of arousal that comes when a bunch of pent up serpents burst into life for the first time ever, and find themselves pressed close (already near vent to vent in some cases!) to one another among the many colored collection. As a few attendants gathered up nets, quite the show had begun to play out before the Mages.

In and around many a serpent twined, wrapping long bodied tails against one another to press that vent tight and close as their inner bits slithered out with much less hesitation than they might slither out of a hole in the ground. Grinding scales and vanishing feathers, the snake pile became something of an orgy before the curious onlookers, as those with more sensitive noses caught whiff of spilled serpent cum and the more feminine pheromones that so enticed them.

Frysco by now had lost all control over his body, and yet the pleasure from such couplings seemed to double back into his spirit regardless. Though him was perhaps a dubious piece of self identification, what remained of him could feel the sensations present for both the males and females among the pile that was his body.

Was there nothing he could hope to do? Himself apparently. Again and again. He had regressed to a seemingly perpetual orgy of snakes, and could do nothing to resist the temptation of as many couplings as each individual male could hope to muster, which was quite a lot as it turned out soon enough.

Eventually he could see and feel the nets deployment, only to find the foolish assistant they had managed to request the aid of had happened to acquire a netting with larger holes than his many cylindrical bodies. Now, bothered externally rather than succumbing to some inner erotic turmoil, the snakes all began to scatter, and Frysco began to feel his tenuous grip on himself falling apart.

There was the vague impression still there about the world, keeping his spirit from progressing to the next plane. As a matter of course he was indeed alive, scattered about now through the vast underground complex where the Eccentric Mages had stored so many errant potion. There, deep underground, the Frysco snakes would live and love and foster countless generations of snakes deep underground, each one just as much a part of him as the last.

After enough years there were thousands of them, and his sense of self had been forced to change to accommodate this strange and seemingly endlessly arousing scenario. Many among them becoming familiars.