Beast Becoming
#3 of Becoming
Beast Becoming
By Von Krieger
Traz opened her eyes and was greeted immediately by the first of many changes that she was sure her... his body had gone through. Just opening his eyes showed the elf an obvious change; the purple-black scaled, short, blunt muzzle that occupied the lower portion of his vision.
He sat up and looked over his body and sobbed softly. He couldn't truly think of himself as a male anymore. Not with the breasts that adorned her frame. While they weren't large, perhaps a little more than a handful, they were larger than any masculine individual ought to have.
She looked down past them, between her legs. She ran a clawed hand over her groin and found her sack and testes gone. She remembered what the guard had said about reptilian parts being internal, but she didn't think she had them anymore. She was being made a female, not some sort of in-between gender.
Her cock had grown smaller, at least an inch. She still felt its morning arousal, but it wasn't as large as it had been before. Thankfully the aching, needful, slutty throb that had ruined everything for her had faded almost entirely. There was a low ache in her loins, but it was on par with what she felt when she had awakened each morning as a male.
Tears began to trickle down Traz' cheek. There was no hope of being able to escape completely intact. She had hoped to flee before something life altering was done to her, but she had never imagined that she would become a female.
Not that there was anything wrong with it, but it wasn't who she was, well, who she wanted to be. She wanted to be Traz, elven adventure, not a dragonkin serving wench. Or whatever it was they had intended for her.
The breasts and reduction of her maleness had been the direst blow that the Devotees of Dessarra had inflicted upon her. The other changes were nothing in comparison. Her elven skin had vanished beneath layers of purple-black scales. Her small claws had grown larger and more fearsome looking. They were so large that they interfered with her ability to make a fist. She could also swear they looked a bit shorter.
Checking behind her, she could see two swellings at her shoulder blades, the place where wings would sprout. She had always wondered what it would be like to fly. But she shook her head, where would she fly trapped underground like this? Unless they did twisted and warped her mind into placid obedience to their cause, she knew that they would never let her into the open air. Perhaps with a collar and a leash, a pet taken for a walk, essentially, but never they would never allow her to fly as a free creature. Only if she submitted to them and showed her loyalty would she be given freedom.
She almost laughed at the sight of her tail. It looked... silly; maybe a foot long, maybe two fingers worth of thickness at the base, tapering down to a point. Such a tiny thing; likely it would grow as she continued to change, but at the moment it looked ridiculous, like an afterthought on her increasingly more draconic form.
She stood, holding her arms up and looking over her body as a whole. She was taller, but thinner. Her neck and torso were lengthened by a few inches in relation to the rest of her, which had also grown somewhat.
Her proportions were quite feminine, the wideness in her hips and the narrowness of her waist. The feminine shape was made even more exaggerated by her increasingly serpentine appearance.
She could also see subtle shifts in her arms and legs, the shape of them suggesting that they would soon gain a different configuration; likely that of a belly crawling beast, rather than a bipedal, thinking creature.
Traz felt her short muzzle and moved her hands upward. She discovered to small, pointed horns projecting from her temples. She had also begun to lose her hair. It hadn't fallen out, but rather seemed to be drawn into her scalp. She felt velvet-like scales on her cheeks, though, and wondered what they meant. She hadn't seen anything of that nature on the dragon that had condemned her to this form.
Her next meal had been placed just inside her cell, and there was quite a lot of it. Her mouth watered, but she shoved the two trays back out under the cell, pushing them beyond her reach. The last time she had been fed, she was drugged and raped by a feral drake. She wasn't about to let them have a second chance at that. If she was going to be forced to fuck, and if the dragon hadn't been lying, she would be mated at least twice more without her consent, than they would have no choice but to literally force her.
The dragoness' sulking was interrupted by the sounds of roaring and snarling, as well as shouting and the sound of claws straining to hold grip on the stone floor. She watched a full dozen dragonkin guards dragging a chained up creature through the hall.
She couldn't see the noisome monster clearly through the press of bodies, but it seemed to be larger than most of the dragonkin, and even chained up, the creature still had a great deal of fight in it.
The guards finally managed to shove their captive into the cell next to Traz'. They slammed the door shut and heaved a sigh of relief, then jumped when the creature slammed into the side of the cage.
The creature laughed and moved to the back of the cell, taking a seat on the floor, staring intensely at the guards with a smile on his lupine face. He was a werewolf, or at least that was what he had started as. Tall, well muscled, covered in short, slate grey fur that seemed to be slowly pulling back into the similarly colored scales that had begun to grow over his skin.
His wings and tail were far further along that Traz', the large, muscular appendage has been bound with chains to his legs, to prevent him from lashing out with it. His wings, their span just longer than his arms, had been pierced with rings in various places, silver rings, and chains were clipped to them as well. Hed cause himself terrible harm trying to tear those out.
His ears were longer than a wolf's, Traz thought they made him look elven. His canine muzzle had elongated and widened, taking on a more reptilian shape. His posture left him more hunched that a typical were ought to be, and his body was all the more powerful looking for it.
The dragoness felt a faint longing, not only in her loins, but in her heart. The fusion of canine, elven, and draconic features made her neighbor the most beautiful creature she had ever seen. She couldn't help but gawk and stare at him.
"What were you before they started warping your mind and body?" the Were asked, shifting his gaze every so slightly to peer in Traz' direction.
"I was an elf; Trazlyn Shadeglory, second son of Myaric Shadeglory, now not even male." Traz said, lowering her head.
"Dannen, of the Brotherhood of the Radiant Moon; we are lycanthropes who hunt those who would destroy and harm others in out name. I was once a werewolf, as you can see. But I fear not for much longer. My true wolf shape had already been sacrificed to allow greater malleability with my hybrid state, which as you can see is slowly becoming draconic." He said with a sigh, scooting himself closer to the mesh barrier between their cells.
Traz did likewise, sitting side by side with the weredragon. She slipped her hand through the bars, Dannen taking it into his own cuffed hand and gripping it tightly, but gently.
Dannen sighed softly and closed his eyes, "I can feel myself changing again. I need to sleep now, Trazlyn. I pray that I can discover a way to free us before they start twisting our minds for obedience."
The weredragon made his way to the pile of straw the Devotees gave each prisoner for a bed and plopped down onto it, and was soon snoring loudly.
The former elf smiled, just a little bit. She hoped that Dannen would find a way to free them as well.
-o-
For the first time since the 'mating' stages of her transformation has begun, Traz had some time to herself. They were leaving her alone. Her tummy growled in protest at the lack of food, but she wouldn't accept anything they offered her. She wasn't going to get drugged again and made into an eager, willing participant in her own mutilation.
After a few hours she began to wish that they would come for her, just to get it over with. The dragon had said the second and third matings were the most important, and that this would determine her role amongst the dragonkin. She had pondered the meaning of it, and could imagine all sorts of things.
All the changes so far had been physical, but she recalled the sight of the other prisoners cowering in their cells at her approach when she escaped, looking at her with fearful eyes. As if they were afraid she would take them from their cells and make them escape.
Traz shuddered; she'd rather die than end up like that. She would fight to her last breath to prevent herself from becoming their eager, obedient, willing pet. She crouched in the corner by the water basin, eyes darting up and down the hallway, just waiting for the dragonkin that would come to try and have her raped once again.
The creature that arrived was not what she expected. While large and powerful, she stood only shoulder height to the dragonkin guards Traz was familiar with. Her figure was full and seemed to radiate sexuality. Though filled with a female's desires now, Traz couldn't help but feel desire for the draconic creature that entered his cell and smiled at him.
She was a Devotee proper; a priestess of their religious cult. Flame orange hair cascading down her back, split by a red and yellow crest. Her scales were a mottled mix of green and brown, and her underbelly featured thick red-brown plates. A pair of fangs that projected upward from her lower jaw was the only hint remaining of the race she had been before conversion, an orc.
She motioned Traz to come closer, but the dragoness remained in her corner.
"You have been a disappointment, little sister." The Devotee said, voice like honey, the tones seeming to go straight to Traz' loins. Her voice possessed the same quality as the dragon, able to control the former elf's body without consulting her desires on the matter.
"Not only trying to escape, but ruining the plans we had for you by seducing one of our more independent members. We had such a beautiful form planned out for you. Such a handsome male, you would have been an even more beautiful female. Soft lavender skin, beautiful hair the shade of sweet roses, a generous bust, curves to die for." She licked her lips, apparently fantasizing about what Traz had been planned to be.
"You would have been groomed as an apprentice in the Priestesses of Pleasure. Your role would have been to see to the day to day needs of our holy order, and on occasion other members of our race who needed to slake their lusts. Or to be held or just needed friendly, casual company. Or any of a hundred other simple tasks that make day to day life easier."
The priestess shook her head, "But no, not only did you have to deviate your beautiful form from our plan, not only did you try and flee when we had been more than welcoming, but you've seen fit to starve yourself. You are a growing dragoness, and rather than eat while your body is primed for change in order to make yourself a powerful creature, you've spurned our hospitality and condemned yourself to the slow, natural growth of a true dragon. It might be centuries before you reach the size you could once have had."
The Devotee's words held Traz fast, the barest hint of anger beneath them enough to hold her paralyzed, unable to move, unable even to speak in her own defence.
"So, little sister, we are saddened by the fact that you will not be joining our order. But we will give you the opportunity to redeem yourself. You will have time to think about your misdeed, as thinking will be the only thing you can find yourself engaging in. For as a penance your first rebirth shall be as a feral dragon, a brood whore. You will be mated and filled with eggs each time as soon as you've laid your previous clutch."
"You will be the lowest of the low. You will retain your mind, but you will lose the privilege of speech. In silence you will ponder what you have done wrong. And in a decade, if the goddess has smiled upon you and allowed you to retain your mind, rather than simply abandoning you to become a thoughtless beast, we will happily bring our new sister into our order, already well versed in giving others pleasure."
Traz began to cry, sickened, disgusted, horrified. It was to go beyond the four times. She would be raped several times a day, ever day, for years. Forced to bear hatchlings that had no spark of intellect in them; dumb beasts. She would crawl on all fours like an animal, have her ability to speak torn away from her; she would be a beast in all but the confines of her mind.
The devotee crooked a finger, beckoning her forward as she sat on the small stool that belonged in Traz' cell. The dragoness felt herself crawling to the priestess on all fours, head lowered.
The dragonkin opened her robes, revealing her naked form. Male and female in one. Breasts and a proud draconic member. Traz felt herself begin to salivate at the sight of it. She hated her body, she hated her life. At that moment she wanted to die.
Her maw opened and slid easily around the priestess' prick. As hard as she tried, Traz couldn't bite down, only lick and caress. Her hands came up of their own accord, fingers slipping into the Devotee's female sex.
Traz' reward for her forced obedience was a demeaning pat on the head. "Good girl." The Devotee purred, "You'll make a good brood whore for our mounts. And you won't be able to help yourself. Rather than remove the alterations we've made to your mind, we will enhance them. You will need to have the seed of a dragon inside of you once a day without fail. Each day you got without it, your need will rise. The longer you go without pleasuring a male, the more your cloaca will ache and your mouth will water."
"You will take an active role in your assigned task within our race, my pet. The longer you resist, the more you will perform with gusto when you finally cannot stand it any longer and let your instincts take over. I'm sure the part of you that still clings to what you once were will be enraged by your new lot in life, but your new dragon self will learn to love it and embrace it. The further removed you are from your past, the more you will become one of us, little sister. We do not hurt you because we want to, but because you leave us no choice but to punish you. If you had just behaved, you would spend each night in the bed of a priestess who cared for you very much. But now? Now you will have no love but that of randy stablehands. I'm sure they will enjoy using you as well, as is their right for taking care of a brood whore."
The priestess hissed softly, tilting her head back as Traz suckled her with talent and skill that was not her own. Tears poured from the dragoness' reptilian eyes, even as her body purred from the sweet, musky taste of the Devotees' member. She felt herself begin to grow horny, her stub of a tail lifting, legs spreading ever so slightly.
Traz' tormentor roared, her nearly scalding seed being pumped down her throat, equally heated sexual fluids gushing to coat her hands. The devotee withdraw and stood up, leaving Traz to feebly lick her hands clean, her puppet-like body eager to lap up any sweet treat that a real dragonkin would give her. She shuddered softly, knowing that it was likely that no coupling she had in the next decade would be anywhere as gentle as this.
The dragoness knelt before the Devotee as the dragonkin removed an amulet from her robes. She held it in front of Traz' face as she began to chant softly.
The former elf's eyes widened at the sight of it. The Star of Fatheem, a priceless relic that greatly enhanced the power a cleric received from their deity. She knew the item, because he had helped retrieve it from the hands of followers of Lolth. She felt even sicker, for she knew all too well the last place it had been.
"Nirack?" she managed to whisper through her paralysis.
The Devotee pulled the amulet back and glared down at Traz, eyes wide.
"How do you... know my name?" Nirack hissed through clenched teeth.
"The Star... we... found it together. Years ago. I'm Trazlyn, you know me!" Traz managed to squeak.
Nirack sighed softly, a smile spreading over her features, "I am sorry, little sister. But what we may have shared in my first life means nothing to me now. I willingly sacrificed all I knew from that existence in order to be reborn fully as a Child of Dessarra. She saved me from the sea, and no I no longer have any need to fear the water."
She continued the chant and Traz' heart sunk in her chest. It was like she had her love die all over again. She ceased attempting to struggle. Nothing mattered any longer. All of creation had conspired to crush and tear apart his hopes, dreams, and desires. The only woman he had ever truly loved had forgotten him, and was now condemning him to the life of a sexual plaything for animals.
Nirack knelt and kissed Traz on the lips, muzzle to muzzle. The ex-elf remained motionless.
"Once your transformation is complete and you've had time to rest, we will see about getting you your first litter. I look forward to brining you into our fold once you have had time to think about what you have done." The dragonkin said, stroking the remnants of Traz' hair.
"Once you have accepted the will of Dessarra, you will share my bed again, little sister, and I look forward to that day."
The priestess kissed her once-lover on the forehead, a searing, agonizing pain spreading over Traz' body as it began to twist and warp to complete her role as a quadrupedal beast-slut. She could see why they sent their captives into a deep sleep in order to change. But she was no longer being groomed to be one of them, just a breeding animal.
The pain of her body was nothing compared to the emotional pain they had inflicted upon her. Her body popped and cracked, sickening snaps and stretching noises as she grew, her flesh and bone reforming her into a belly crawling beast.
She dragged herself across the floor with what had once been hands, now little more than useless paws. Her hind legs were still bent for a humanoid creature and were useless for moment.
Traz virtually slithered into her bed of straw, body elongating, made even more serpentine. Her muzzle exploded from a few inches to a near foot in length. Her neck elongated rapidly, allowing her to curl it around her body. Her large, thick, heavy tail did the same, and nose met tailtip.
She folded one of her massive wings over herself. Wings that she knew she would never use. The new muscles that covered her back and chest would atrophy to uselessness in the years she spent in a pen, essentially nothing but a life support system for a womb.
The brood whore closed her eyes, ignoring the twinges of pain over her body. Sleep came easy, even with the pain. She had nothing to stay awake for, her only refuge for the time to come would be her dreams. And likely they too would be invaded, filled with well-hung males, mewling hatchlings, and the fantasy of a kind lover that would never be fulfilled.
Soft, feral, ad mewls escaped the breeder's throat. There was nothing of Trazlyn left in her flesh. She was no longer fit to her name, just as fate had seen that she was no longer fit to even have a single vestige of her elven heritage. Trazlyn was the name of an elf. She was not an elf.
Trazlyn Shadeglory was gone. The sad thing he had become cried itself to sleep. The empty oblivion of nothingness providing her the only comfort that she knew she would ever have.