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? Slayer or Layer 4 For Lorvianne By Draconicon

Getting out of the mountain was the easy part. Despite the kobolds knowing the layouts of the tunnels far better than him, there was something to be said for being the biggest guy in the caves. No matter how many of the little buggers came after him, he could handle them. As long as they didn't get up to his crotch, he could beat them off and send them packing.

The few times that they did...

Well, that was better left forgotten as the mostly-wolf ran down the mountain, bursting from the cave mouth and running down the slope. It was a rush, a heady feeling of just barely keeping ahead of his own speed, running so fast that he knew that he'd fall over if he dared to slow down, let alone stop.

But he didn't care. As long as he was out of the mountain, making his way back to civilization, then he was happy.

Ashin will pay for this, he thought, feeling angrier than ever towards the dragoness that had left him with the curse between his legs. He knew that he wanted to hurt her, but refused to think about how or why at that point. He knew the curse was strange, that it had allowed him to slam the kobolds down as long as he only thought about knocking them out, but he didn't know how that extended to the dragoness, and he didn't want to risk it.

Instead, he just let himself stew in his rage as he ran down the mountain, leaping and swinging from the few trees along the slope. The path would have been safer - and he had seen it curving away down the side of the mountain - but it would have been slower, and even though the sounds of pursuit had faded, he wasn't going to risk getting caught and taken back to breeding duty. He'd done enough of that.

Finally, he hit a plateau a good thousand feet down from the cave opening. He stuttered to a stop, slowly turned. There was nothing behind him, nothing at all, and he sighed in relief.

"Looks like they didn't want to go too far from the cave, after all."

Slumping to his knees, the dragon hunter shook his head a few times. It was a ruin of a trip here, he finally admitted. He had not only lost his battle against the great dragoness that lived in the mountain, but had been cursed by her. His sword had been taken, as well as most of his armor and all of his clothes. There was nothing left to his equipment that had come up the mountain with him.

The only thing left was the campsite a bit further down the mountainside, if it was still there. He had been in the caves for...days? Weeks? It was hard to tell, but it hadn't been months. The world had been on the verge of changing seasons when he'd gone underground, and it was still the same now, either close to the same time or just past it. If his luck held...

Well, he'd probably be fucked, but if his luck got a bit better, his supplies would still be right where he'd left them. That's what he would hope for.

Getting himself back to his feet, he used the stick he'd stolen from the kobolds as a walking aid, making his way down the mountain. The cool air brushing between his legs was a constant reminder of his new genitals, and a nudge towards remembering his 'duty.'

Duty. He growled under his breath, the wolf glaring down at the scaly cunt between his legs. It was still wet, despite the long run and the distractions that he had, and the minute he thought about it, it started dripping even more. As if it couldn't be any more embarrassing, he could feel his body start to push down, his hips thrusting on their own, as if trying to find something to impale himself on.

"I am not a breeding whore. I am a dragon slayer, and I will do as I please."

At least, that was what he hoped. Lorkos remembered how much he had changed in the caverns of the kobolds, how as he had swelled with eggs he had changed from furred to scaled. His body had slowly succumbed to the curse that had been laid on him, gradually transforming him from something that hunted dragons to something that birthed them. He shivered, remembering how it had felt to have so much of his body transformed in so short a time.

His body liked it, too. He remembered that, and he had a reminder as his pussy throbbed between his legs. If he had the time and he thought it would do any good, he would have hit himself with his makeshift walking stick, if only to feel pain down there rather than the constant hunger for pleasure.

Lorkos slowly made it further down the mountain, walking sideways rather than running down. He found the path that he'd taken before, and followed it further down, using it to guide him to where he'd begun.

All the while, he was running through the particulars of the curse in his head. Ashin had told him exactly what he had to do, precisely what was needed. He was to lay eggs, one after another, until he had laid a sufficient number to restore the dragons that he had killed in his lifetime. That was a hard enough goal, considering that number was in the triple digits. It would help slightly that he was able to form eggs so quickly, he supposed, but it wasn't something that he wanted to do.

It was made even worse that he was in a perpetual heat, something that consumed him from within and made him want to do such depraved things with the scale-kind. Nobody should want to do those things, let alone with the scale enemies of all with fur. He glared down at the path, his hand tightening around the stick, but it was fruitless. Even though he was keeping the hate from being directed in a homicidal direction, he could feel his pussy heating up, getting hot and wet in hopes of a fucking.

Growling under his breath, Lorkos pushed the thought down. Maybe there would be someone in the lowlands or the cities that would be able to take the curse off him. The dragoness couldn't have expected that he would get away from the kobolds. Perhaps there was still a chance for him.

He found the markers that he'd left out, little subtle things that would point him the rest of the way towards camp, and let out a soft sigh of relief. There was still a chance that he might -

The crunching sounds of something pushing gear around and stomping through rubble and debris caught his ears, and the wolf paused right at the corner that would lead him to his camp. The sounds were coming from just up ahead, which meant that something had found his campsite. That, in turn, meant that his supplies were definitely in jeopardy, and that, in turn...

Meant that he could be setting himself up for another rutting.

Please, please, please, be goblins or imps or something that isn't scaled.

Slowly, he poked his head around the corner and immediately ended up cursing under his breath.

It was a scaled thing, already. Not a kobold or a dragon, but something that fell between. A wingless drake that walked on all fours, poking around with its forepaws in the various bits of equipment that he'd left behind. Small sacks of food had been sliced open, and the weapons that he'd left behind had been scuffed at the very least, and had been broken at worst, smashed against the rocks and thrown around by something. Probably the very drake that he saw.

It had managed to form a den out of his tent, too, ripping it down and pulling it together into a giant fabric nest. He glared at the beast as it pushed through some of his sacks of supplies, finding some of the last bits of food that he'd brought.

Wonderful...just...wonderful.

He was about to charge when he saw something as the creature bent forward. Just between its hind legs was a slit, and from that slit poked the tiniest little head of a dick. Lorkos groaned a bit louder at that, and immediately the drake whipped its head around.

There was intelligence in those eyes, more than in the kobolds but less than in dragons. It knew what he was, and what he wanted. It backed up, moving to the nest it had made, and set itself defensively, forepaws splayed out in front of it and its head lowered enough to show off the great horns on its head.

"Go on, go, get!"

Lorkos waved his hands at the beast, hoping that it would startle like some of the other creatures that he'd fought, but it just growled and held its ground. The wolf's nose already had picked up the scent of the male, and he was biting his lips as he felt his body responding.

Just how much did that fucking dragoness change me?! he thought, leaning on his fury like a cripple would lean on his walking stick. He lifted the club that he'd brought along, waving it from side to side, and the drake watched it like a dog waiting for something to be thrown, or a snake watching a flutist.

He moved closer slowly, coming out onto the wider area where the campsite had been. The drake kept him in view the whole time, snorting slowly. No fire, which at least meant that it wasn't one of the more dangerous ones. It was probably just pure melee rather than anything spectacularly magical. If he could just avoid his own heat for a few minutes, it was possible that he could knock it down, chase it off.

Possible, but he didn't put good odds on it.

Lorkos panted as he felt his pussy starting to clench and drip, his juices running down his legs. The sensation was beyond pleasurable and more than a little distracting, particularly as the strands of his own juices felt like fingers brushing their way down his thighs. He bit his lips, moving closer, and closer.

The drake had stopped growling, he realized, and a moment later, he knew why. It smelled his pussy, and it wanted it.

A glance downwards saw that the drake's cock had continued sliding free, coming out to a full size of a good foot long, slender and unmarked compared to some of the kobold shafts. He could feel his pussy clenching down in eagerness, the heat of a dragoness inside of him already calling for more pregnancy, more eggs to be filled with. Lorkos bit his lips, trying to fight it as he got closer and closer -

Suddenly, the drake charged forward. Blue scales blurred in front of him, and he swung out with the club in reflex. Unfortunately, that reflex was to kill, and that -

"AH!"

The wolf screamed as the heat hit him, forcing him to fall forward. The drake caught him, leaving him leaning on the broad head and the horns just behind it. He gasped, shivered, and moaned as a tongue slid inside of him, forked tips working along his scaly pussy and then further in, working along and over and into it with each successive lap.

"Ah...ah...no..."

Lorkos's hips were already thrusting forward, grinding along the offered tongue. It took him a full minute to realize that he wasn't going to get raped, but he was going to make himself be fucked. His body was already begging for it, and he couldn't stop thrusting along the offered tongue. His pussy felt like it was on fire, and that slippery length was the only relief that he could get.

The wolf grabbed the drake's horns, holding them as a pair of handlebars as he fucked himself forward, dragging his pussy along that tongue as it pressed between his nether lips. Each little thrust was like grinding himself on a slippery, flicking cock, and with none of the risk.

For a moment, he thought that it would be enough.

It turned out that it wasn't. The tongue took him only so far, but it was not enough to take him over the edge to orgasm. He whimpered, gasping, shaking, but he couldn't quite push himself the rest of the way. His pussy clenched, spasmed, begged for the feeling of a dick inside, but it would not go the rest of the way and give him the pleasure of a true orgasm. All he could do was hump, hump, hump, building it up and making it worse, because there was no way that he could stop.

Whimpering, the wolf tried to pull his hand away, tried to drag himself back and remove the temptation, but almost as if the drake could read his mind, that tongue flicked up. It pushed inside of him, and the wolf gasped loudly, his pussy penetrated. He went right up on tiptoes, his eyes rolled back, and his anger soaring higher.

"How...fucking...dare...you?"

Each word only made his heat go higher, and he fell back, screaming and thrusting his hips into the air. He wanted to cum, needed to cum, but the dragoness's magic was holding his pleasure back. Without a cock inside of him, without seed, he simply could not cum.

The wolf rolled onto his belly, trying to crawl away from the drake, but he'd barely managed two slow body-lengths before the drake was over him. That cock pressed between his ass cheeks, grinding along them and then a bit further down. The pointed tip of that slippery member only made it worse, sliding against his sex, bumping his clit, coming so close to actually sliding inside of him that he froze, half-hoping that it would do the job for him.

But no. Even as he instinctively offered himself, Lorkos could feel that cock stopping, the curse holding the drake at bay. There would be no breeding, no filling, no orgasm...not unless he took the reins.

Groaning in the worst of frustrations, Lorkos held out for as long as he could. He thought of the wrongness of the dragons and their legions. He thought of the way that they had struck the lowlands and attempted to become overlords, and had struggled for tooth and nail to keep every other species under their scaly heel. He remembered atrocities...

And it didn't matter in the slightest. Against the burning heat between his legs, and the subtle spread of the scales down there to other parts of his body, the memory of injustices, particularly ones that weren't against him specifically or his generation, meant nothing. Lorkos bit his lips, grumbling, even as he shuffled.

The pointed tip of the drake's cock rested right between his nether lips, just one short thrust away from impaling him. He wanted to give in, and he wanted to hold out.

He wasn't sure which would win out.

The End