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Disclaimer - The mythical days of old, when knights were bold, was really never as squeaky clean as we make it out to be. As such, any of you who are offended by say, transformation, eroticism, transformational eroticism, goats, lions, snakes, or goat/lion/snakes should probably leave this tale to be later Bowdlerized in a future age.

The Witch's Way

Sir Landon burst through the door of the small hut, sword drawn and gasping for breath, tabbard torn and tattered over his thick leather trappings. "I've overcome your trials witch! Now you owe me an audience as a vassal of your rightful king!" He shouted into the dimly lit interior which seemed impossibly large compared to the tiny thatched cottage that he just had entered.

"Well you took your time, Sir Knight." A voice creaked out from the dimness. "Not so many years ago the kingdom's finest would have reached me in naught but hours." Seated in a simple rocking chair, her gnarled hand clutched at the spine of a heavy book, and her eyes darted across the page as her dry voice filled the room. Sir Landon was surprised, he was suspecting some hideously deformed creature, but the witch was ostensibly just an old woman. Wizened certainly, but she looked like a perfectly normal grandmother in a simple red shawl with long stringy white hair with the subtlest hint that it had once been black.

"I have no time for your idle barbs hag." Landon peered around the disordered room suspiciously. Against the wall there were sundry shelves, stacked with oddities, including glass bottles in which bobbed pickled monstrosities that made the bile rise in the back of his throat. "The heir to the throne has been poisoned and . . ."

"Yes yes, I know. I've been looking for a cure to the venom of a basilisk all morning." The gnarled old woman waved her hand dismissively.

"But, how did you know of the poisoning, much less the type . . . Only the king an his advisers have any idea . . . or the assassin . . ." His eyes narrowed at the old woman suspiciously, lip curling up under his trimmed mustache.

"It is my business to know things of this nature. But you should know, Sir Knight, that I don't take part in politics. Anyways, this king has been so very gracious in his payments for my services up to this point." She let loose a dry wheezing chuckle that made his skin crawl.

"Well, have you a cure then!?" Sir Landon snapped back at the insipid woman's crackled voice.

"Oh, several. Though I hardly think you or the king would be willing to pay the price for most of them." She scratched her chin with a long nailed gnarled digit, looking like an old matron considering ingredients for a family recipe.

"Surely, nothing is more important than the life of the kingdom's heir."

"You're mind is very unimaginative, Sir Knight." She stared up at him with her dark beady eyes and a disconcerting smile. "The blood of ten thousand infants would do easily. Or, of course, the soul of a truly holy man. But you will never find such a man in this kingdom."

"The kingdom's coffers are well stocked. We can pay you in gold or silver. You must stop speaking such nonsense. The life of the royal family is at stake!" Sir Landon's fist clenched around the hilt of his sword as he spoke with a steadfast and determined tone.

"Well, if there were a chimera around, then the solution would be simple. Potent magical creatures they be. Some simpleton slew the last one centuries ago though."

"But you have your ways. Surely a witch as powerful as yourself can do something. The king would hardly suffer you to live otherwise." Sir Landon's voice grew cold and sharp.

In steely silence, the old woman stared up at the armored knight, before a smile split her face, revealing her yellowing teeth with pink fleshy gaps between them. "A loyal one hmmm? Well, Sir Knight, would you personally do _anything_to save this little princeling then?"

"By my honor, I am bound." The large man replied gravely.

"Then I propose a contract. You serve me for a year and a day, and I will save your prince, but for the next turning of four seasons you are mine." Her shawled face and hard gaze stared up into the knight's steely blue eyes.

"I will never act against my king . . ."

"And I will never make you do so. So do we have a deal, Sir Knight? I am true to my bargains, I assure you." Her fingers twitched in a spider-like fashion as she set the book down and rose from her chair with a creak, turning back to a packed wooden cabinet against the wall before he could even answer.

" . . . Yes. I accept your terms, so long as I do not have to act against my king or his wishes." The knight sheathed his sword with stern resignation. "Now, do you require my seal or . . .?"

"Your seal is worthless to me my pet. Your words will do." The witch's voice sent an odd shiver down his spine as she rummaged around in the dark polished old cupboard with a series of clinks and clacks, wizened hands sorting through vials and bottles filled with god knows what.

"Now, to cure your little princeling." The clinking stopped as Sir Landon heard the sound of a bottle sliding against the dry wood. "Yes, this will do." She muttered, standing up slowly, old joints creaking. "You will drink this." She proffered forwards a small heavy glass bottle, its viscous green black contents stoppered with a heavy cork.

"Not until we've cured the . . ."

"Do you renege on your word sir knight? So very soon into the process? I have been a crone since the time of your father's fathers and it is not your place to question me." The old woman seemed to tower over him, her wide rheumy eyes staring into his soul. He pulled back. "You will drink this. I will make the cure." She finished calmly, once again simply an old woman, grinning with worn teeth and fleshy gums.

Sir Landon glowered, taking the proffered bottle, knuckles clenching white as the witch let loose an eerie cackle. "For my country then. And if you do not keep up your end of this contract witch, not even your magics will keep you from my vengeance . . ."

And with that, the knight twisted out the swollen cork with a firm yank and lifted the bottle to his lips, closing his eyes. The substance seemed to have congealed, and he was about to give it a shake as the entirety of the dark liquid poured into his mouth as if a thing alive. He tried to gasp and grab at his throat, dropping the bottle as the rest of the cool substance slipped past his lips like a cold black rat's tail slipping through a hole, rushing down his throat of its own accord.

Falling to a knee, the knight looked up at the witch with murder in his eyes as he gagged softly, finding himself quite unable to retch. "Foul caitiff! What vile poison is this!? Surely this can have nothing to do with the remedy . . . "

"Your curiosity is neither here nor their, Sir Knight. You are mine for a year and a day, and I fully intend to make the most of you." She rubbed her calloused hands together. "Now, as an act of kindness I would suggest you disrobe . . ."

"Unacceptable! Do you think me daft? I urrrgh." Sir Landon fell forward, one hand catching his fall and the other clutched at his chest as he felt something shifting around against his insides. He wanted to curse the woman, but his words only came out as pained moans as his back arced in intense pain, as if he were being wrapped in tightening iron bands.

"You would do better to listen to your master, for the outcome will be the same whether you defy me or not, Sir Knight." The witch looked down coldly at his writhing form as a bulge tightened at the back of the man's trousers, swelling against the taut fabric before ripping through in a burst of sinuous scaly green black skin as his sheathed sword clattered to the ground.

Sir Landon felt as if he were going to be ill as the pressure subsided, but his vision was tumbling about the room, while simultaneously focusing on the dark dingy floorboards beneath him. He could feel something moving about as if it were touching him . . . but he couldn't comprehend how as his tumbling second sight steadied out, and the muscles in his back tensed as a long scaly tail thickened, pressing out from his spine.

He watched the back of his own head slowly turn around with trembling trepidation as he looked into the cold golden eyes of a serpent, covered in almost black scales. that rose from his body like a cruel parody of a tail. He watched it. It watched him. They seemed caught in a small moment of eternity.

"W-what foul sorcery is this?" A quaver broke the knight's voice as he watched his own face from the serpent's unblinking eyes while it swayed in the dim musty air of the cottage. "There can certainly be no reason for this aside from malice. Please, you must change me back. I can better serve you . . ." His voice trailed off as he stared into the snakes luminous golden eyes.

"You, Sir Knight, have known nothing if you consider _this_cruelty." She walked over next to the prostrate man and ran her gnarled hand slowly up the side of the snake's tail. "I would never do this for no reason, but even if I were to, it would be your duty to obey me. You gave your _word_yes?"

The man shivered as her caresses sent shivers down his terrible tail and all the way up his spine. He couldn't seem to draw his gaze away from over his shoulder as he watched the snake's forked tongue flicker out, letting it taste the air: Letting _him_taste the air as her fingers felt so soft and warm against his hard smooth scales. And those golden eyes, they just seemed to drill into his consciousness with their perfect dark slitted pupils that made his jaw hang open as he huffed silently.

And then a yelp escaped his lips, and his gaze was torn away. The feeling of intense constriction returned, making his tail flick and hiss as his clothes tightened around his hips and torso, biting into his flesh. He groaned out an oddly feral growl as the stitching of his jerkin and leather coat burst open, revealing his hot and warping flesh to the cool air as his shoulders and hips began to swell broader.

"Please. Help me." Sir Landon panted out, trying to raise up a hand as his body twisted and swelled. From above himself he could see a coat of dense bronzish fur begin to grown in between his shoulders.

"I already tried, Sir Knight. Had you heeded my advice you would not find yourself in such a predicament currently." The crone stared down at him, dark eyes scrutinizing his changing form. "Flesh is always the most sensitive as it twists." She watched the tatters of his clothes rip and slide, hanging on around his shoulders until they too burst from around their seems. "You would do better to listen to your master, or the next year and a day will be a hard one for you . . ."

He felt her hand brush against his back, combing through the soft fur growing there. It was so sensitive, and almost made him rumble in surprised pleasure. But that wasn't right . . . He shook his head groggily, shoulders bunching up as the dirty yellow fur rushed down his arms.

"Hmm, but it seems that you're past the worst of it now hmm? You must be starting to enjoy yourself." She scratched the snake's head under its smooth chin as she inspected his form.

"No. No . . . It's not . . . " He gritted out, awash in new sensations as his grasping fingers pulled back into blunt padded paws, nails sharpening into claws that raked small bright gashes of pine in the stained floor. "Please . . ."

"Oh, but Sir Knight, I do think you are trying to deceive me." The witch cackled. It has been some time since I have known the company of a man, but _that_is usually an indication that they are enjoying themselves, if my memory serves correctly."

The proper Knight's cheeks blushed like a furnace as he was made aware of his painfully hard member bobbing about below him. He wanted to reach back with a hand to cover himself, but his forming heavy paws were now better suited for holding his form up than human modesty.

"Yes, I can really see your licentious side starting to show." She ran a hand down his swelling haunches where his fur was becoming more bristly: a tarnished tan color dappled with darker splotches. His skin tingled as she ran a hand down to where his thighs tugged out, making him fully quadrupedal, continuing to swell even though he was easily the size of an ox already.

A surprised bleat of pleasure escaped his lips as she caressed his legs, stretching his feet out and grabbing his toes in her surprisingly steely grip. She mashed them together as the enamel of his nails spread slowly and sensuously, forming cloven hooves that she teased at the sensitive juncture between dark hardness and hardy brushy furred flesh.

And he liked it. No, that was wrong. This was disgusting. But it did feel good against his new sensitive body. He had obviously been ensorcelled. Or maybe he just enjoyed the sensitive pleasure that the witch left in her wake.

A splitting headache built up in the knight's mind. As he moaned in distress and pleasure.

"Oh my. It seems that your are somewhat conflicted, Sir Knight." The snake's eyes followed the woman even though the man's eyelids were screwed shut as his head hung between his shoulders, gasping for breath. "Such animosity and such desire. One man alone can not bear the burden of war inside but one head."

She walked to the front of the hulking monstrosity, lisfing the man's head up and staring into his eyes. He wanted to pull away and also to bask in to warmth of her touch: To snarl and rebuke as well as groaning out in pleasure.

As the crone stared into his soul, his mouth opened, revealing one side sharpening into fangs as the other flattened into smooth solid caps. His lips stretched, as he let out a strangled growl and his eyes opened, one a golden yellow, full of murderous intent constrained only by his word, and the other a deep brown with a rectangular caprine pupil, half lidded in pleasure.

The sensation was indescribable as his head began to pull apart, slowly stretching: one side growling as it grew a dark mane while the other bleated, slowly sprouting thick curved horns that curled back behind him. The cleft deepened, each side now independent as his necks thickened and his muzzles pressed out, one side loudly snarling, sprouting feline whiskers as the other's caprine ears twitched while the witch caressed the wiry beard growing on its chin.

Sir Landon snarled and baaed, thoughts separated, but still his own. He could feel the detestable goat's ears flick against his own on occasion, making him snarl, likewise the lion's mane rubbed against his caprine neck in a comfortingly fluffy way as the snake watched it all from overhead, sinuous body arcing over him from the base of his spine.

"Now it seems you have yourself sorted out, Sir Knight." The witch stared into his lion eyes as she scratched his goat chin. Honor bound, his leonine half snarled as she walked around him, hand running down his flanks from the softer feline fur in the front to the rougher bristly blotched pattens of his hindquarters. His caprine half loved it as she ran her hand through the short hair of his haunches, down to the sensitive skin between his legs.

"But you are not yet what I need you to be, Sir Knight." He could feel her breath against his flesh as his hoofed rear legs clacked against the floor nervously. His massive body felt out of place in the now tiny cottage. She barely had to lean over to caress his exposed fleshy scrotum, grasping it in her palm and squeezing gently, hefting the weight of his masculine orbs as his leonine head hissed and spat.

"Yes, I'm afraid you're somewhat unbalanced as it is, perfectly masculine and regal in the front . . ." She punctuated her words by squeezing harder, mashing his flesh against his body, causing his lion's head to snarl in ashamed rage as his caprine tongue hung out of his open flexible lips in bliss. The sensation was immense as she began to stretch and knead his flesh, pulling the skin smooth and taut as it began to jostle, filling in and pressing out, hanging below him with heavy weight even as his cock began to leak out simultaneously shameful and shameless pearls of clear pre the dripped sloppily against the floor.

He craved release above all else, even his lion's was side blinded by pleasure as his snake tail wrapped around to give him a view of the witch firmly kneading and patting the pink fleshy mass of his . . .udders? He could feel to hot barely furred punk flesh rubbing against his inner thighs, and he bleated even as his prideful side growled out a gruff sound of disgust.

"One must make due with the materials at hand you know. You came just at the right time, Sir Knight." The witch smiled up at him, reaching forwards and wrapping both of her hands around his throbbing member, slowly squeezing and rubbing, making the knight's loose furry skin shake and quiver. He craved climax, and his member felt like it was suffused in waves of pleasurable heat as she tugged and coaxed.

"Now then, dark one." The knight felt his snake of a tail perk up in eager response. "You will assist with the finishing touches yes?" His third vision bobbed in affirmative as she clenched around his agonizingly sensitive cock. The independent appendage curled in behind him, tongue flickering out and teasing his flesh behind the bulge of his developing udders, just under his exposed rear end. He moaned as he could taste his flesh becoming moist and electric around the snake's tongue, its lapping becoming harder and more insistent.

His cock was changing, becoming softer and thicker, but incessantly sensitive as she teased the jostling tip, pulling the fleshy protrusion down so that it hung from the center of his forming caprine organ. The snake's smooth flesh rubbed against him as it lapped with tined tongue, raising up twin ridges of flesh that made his whole body clench, hooves and claws scraping across the floor. The labial edges of the cleft twitched as a nub of a forming clitoris began to form at the bottom of his welling moist new femininity.

The witch grabbed in at the head of his swollen girthy cock, each hand pinching in and pulling in opposite directions, slowly and tortuously separating his flesh into two wobbling carrot shaped teats, tugged out firmly to crown each side of his swollen udders. The need for release didn't die down in the least though, and both heads winced in need, while the snake lapped at the edges of their fresh moist femininity before pausing, closing its maw and pressing forwards, slowly sliding inside of him, vision engulfed by warm clenching darkness as they bellowed in blissful animal cacophony.

"Just a second now dear, these bones are not as spry as they once were." The witch patted the plump jostling flesh between his legs before walking to the corner, and returning, dragging a short stool and a well worn wooden pail. All the while, the former knight's tail sunk deeper and deeper inside of himself, making him clench and shudder as his hooves clacked against the floor.

She slid the pail underneath him, looking at the snake's twitching neck, embedded in his sopping caprine femininity with a grin. "Now then." She slid the bucket underneath him. "This is just the thing we'll need to coax out a basilisk's toxin." She pressed a hand up against his udders, between his two pendulous teats, patting the jostling flesh as the Knight's beastly body shivered while he pawed at the floor in need.

Sir Landon's back arced and his heads rose up as her hands wrapped around his caprine teats and squeezed, tugging gently as twin alternating jets of thick hot cream sprayed into the bucket below with a hollow hiss. It was like an extended orgasm, drawn out with every tug as his goatish head bleated out and tossed its horned head in bliss while his leonine side winced at every pleasured tug, ashamed that he was enjoying it as much as he was. His snake of a tail drilled inside of him one last time, causing a roar and a bleat before pulling slowly out of his clenching flesh with a serpentine inhalation.

Each squeezing tug made his monstrous form quake, the only sound in the room the steady liquid trickling and the occasional hoof clopping against the floor. Time seemed to lose meaning as every pleasured tug drew him towards the next in a pleasured loop.

But, it was over all too soon, leaving the once proud knight feeling exhausted and oddly satisfied as the witch dragged the heavy white foamed bucket to the side and stood up.

"Now then. You have other jobs to do as well my sweet." The witch popped her knuckles slowly as she spoke. "The cure will take many hours to manufacture, and I will see that one of my most trusted couriers takes the finished product straight to your oh-so-beloved King. Meanwhile, I seem to have had my precious time wasted by various knights of late, so I'll task you with keeping them away from the cottage. None are to approach without my permission. Is that clear,beast?"

Sir Landon's heads nodded as she cast her gnarled hand towards the door, which creaked open of its own accord. The Chimera growled and bleated as he squeezed out of the small opening, hoofs scrabbling against the wooden floor as he set out into the wilds to fulfill his new duty.

He resented the witch for what she had done to him, turning him into some kind of corrupted beast. But, he had given his word, and his word was his bond. He never wanted to go back to the foul tiny hut.

He missed the feel of the witch's hands, and eagerly awaited returning to her cozy little hut. Munching on a patch of tough grass, he imagined his next milking as his snake tail swayed and watched over him.