Quetza's Quest: Prologue and Chapter 1

Story by QuetzaDrake on SoFurry

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#1 of Quetza's Quest


Quetza's Quest

Written by QuetzaDrake(of course)

WARNING!: The following story will, at points, contain some violent content, some sort of slapstick comedy and hilarity, a few curse words, and sexual content. This particular section of the story contains extreme hyperphallicism.

So, basically, if you find this story, and you're seriously not a fan of mine or someone like me, you're gonna probably want to stay clear. Just sayin'. I don't want any bible-humpers on my case. You got your own Bible-fetish sites, and I suggest you stick to them. Kay, that's it.

Prologue: The Crazy Mishaps Start, Sort of

There once was a boy named Quetza. This boy, named Quetza(as said before in the previous statement), was a dragon. Like any dragon, Quetza had scales and horns and fangs and a muzzle and those crazy feet, too. Unfortunately, the one thing poor Quetza did not have were wings. There were no glorious wings on that poor dragon boy's back, and he was a might pissed about it. I wouldn't mention it to make conversation around the water cooler. I mean, how would you feel if you were a flying animal that couldn't fly? Yeah, I'm talking to you, penguins.

Anyhow, one day, Quetza was absent-mindedly reading the comics in his local newspaper, laughing at Ziggy, whom was once again being demeaned by one of his pets in a comical anthropomorphic manner, and Cathy, who just couldn't seem to find an article of clothing suitable to her socially-gained stereotype of what women should wear(I mean, seriously, is a size 9 really that bad, Cathy? C'mon). Suddenly, as Quetza was about to eat that next delicious spoonful of Dragon Chow(it's what makes dragons grow so big, or so goes the commercial(and no, not in that manner; we're not at that part yet, people, bear with me)), a bright light shone forth from his coffee mug.

"AUGH, IT'S A RAID!! HIDE THE STASH!!!" Quetza dived under his table, frightful of the abrupt intrusion upon his breakfast. After a moment, the bright light dimmed, leaving a slight glow. Quetza, after calming down and realizing he didn't have a "stash", peeked up from under the table and looked at the illuminated mug. A single sphere of light seemed to hover over the tabletop, floating from side to side carelessly, like a firefly. Quetza regained his composure and sat down, staring at the strange enigmatic thing.

"What are you?? Why have you interrupted my breakfast, advertised as the most important meal of the day?" Quetza asked quizzically to the orb, boggled by it. The sphere of light, oddly enough, responded, "I have come looking for you, Quetza!" Quetza gasped. "You're not Death are you?! Because you're smaller than they said you'd be," said Quetza, cowering slightly under the awesome power of the supposed Grim Reaper. The light shook for a moment, as if to "shake its head no".

"My dear dragon, I am not the angel of Death. I am an oracle, and I have seen you in my visions!" Quetza, suddenly interested, got his muzzle closer to the hovering orb. "Oooh, really? What was it about? Was I sexxing it up with some hot chick? Eating? ...Sexxing it up?" he asked, curious. The orb sighed, "No, no, no, none of that. I'm here to tell you how to get the wings you so richly desire!" Quetza squealed like some sort of combination of a piglet and a small girl-child. A female pig-child, if you will.

"Really?!" he exclaimed with the widest grin, "You can get me wings?! How?! How do I do it, oh wonderful oracle?!" The oracle orb(henceforth to be referred to as the "orbacle") replied, "I won't be doing it, Quetza. You will!" Quetza slumped slightly, grumbling, "Bah. Why does everything good have to be earned? It's a stupid system. Why, when I become President, I'll be sure to do away with such trivial nonsen--"

"FOCUS Quetza!" Quetza jumped slightly by the booming voice, quieting down to allow the orbacle to continue its explanation. "Right, well... You must go out and complete five tasks--"

"Isn't it three tasks?"

"No, this isn't some fairy tale that gets butchered up and kiddified by Disney, Quetza, now please let me continue!"

"Sorry. Go on."

"Alright... You must go and complete five tasks, and only then will you be able to get your wings, Quetza." The orbacle floated in a circle very quickly, leading the impression of a glowing circle. Inside the glowing circle, images began to form.

"The first task is that you must obtain the legendary Breastplate of Invulnerability +7 from the darkest depths of the Ice Cavern." An image of a rather extravagant breastplate sitting on an altar in the middle of a frozen cave. "That doesn't look too fun..." Quetza frowned.

"Your second task is to find the mystical Sword of Deadliness, gained only through the Trials of Don't Get Killed." A grand sword was displayed in the circle, sitting next to an old, gray-haired lupine king. "Subtle names..." Quetza scratched the back of his head, "Continue."

"The third task is that you must find the magical and mysterious Sorceress of the Lake and convince her to help you on your journey." A picture of a rather beautiful black and white feline in a spiffy robe and pointy hat was shown. "Oooooh, she's pretty..." Quetza smiled, almost instantly falling in love with this cat, but the image vanished.

"Then you must defeat the great Kangaroo Monster that perches atop the Motherhorn. This is your fourth task." An image of a gigantic kangaroo sitting atop a jagged crag, playing Solitaire. "Huh. Okay," Quetza plainly stated.

"Your final task is to enter the Dragon Shrine atop the Motherhorn and pray to the almighty Bahamut, god of all dragons, to grant you the power of flight. With the previous four tasks completed, the dragon-king will grant you your wings." A shrine appeared in the circle, then an image of the great dragon-god Bahamut, then a rather crude crayon drawing of Quetza flying through the air.

"Woooow," Quetza smiled happily, his tail wagging. "That sounds like a lot of stuff to do, but if it means I'll finally be able to fly, I'll do it!" The orbacle floated up and down, as if to nod in agreement. "Good luck, young dragon, and may He be with you."

"Who? God? Bahamut?"

"No, Wilford Brimley!" And with that, the orbacle exploded into a flash of light and vanished. The young dragon blinked, regaining his normal eyesight slowly. "Wow, a quest! This is just like those olden-time epics, like the Iliad, Beowulf, and the Goonies!" Clearly the drake must set out immediately. Immediately after pie.

***

Chapter 1: The 'Getting that Armor in that Cave Full of Ice' Task

With pie finished, Quetza set out to complete the five tasks given to him by the orbacle. The first task, if you remember, was to retrieve the Breastplate of Invulnerability +7, hidden deep in the Ice Cavern. Now, if Quetza had remember correctly, the Ice Cavern was due north from the Golgi Volcano, and the only way to reach it was by canoe. He was forced to canoe his way through the intricate river canals.

After canoeing his way through the simplistic maze of waterways, he finally reached the mystical Ice Cavern. As he came upon the entrance, he noticed that not only was it really dark, it was also really cold. "As to be expected from the Ice Cavern, I suppose," Quetza thought. Being a dragon, he wasn't entirely sure if he was warm or cold-blooded, and he really didn't want to take this opportunity to find out. Either way, it was gonna be really fecking cold, and he needed some sort of protection against the freezing temperatures. "Where am I gonna find protective garments at this hour?" Quetza pondered, scratching what would be considering his chin.

"Coats for sale! Cooooats for saaaale!" A tiger in a suit pushing a wheelbarrow full of coats walked by aimlessly, calling out to the general vicinity of his wares. "The Coat Man! Good thing he's early today!" Quetza exclaimed and quickly ran over to him, "Good man! I will need your finest coat, for I must brave the Ice Cavern!"

The tiger reached down in his wheelbarrow and pulled out an extremely warm-looking and furry coat. "Here is my best coat, young drake. It is truly the only coat that will let you survive down in the depths of the Ice Cavern. However, I will give it to you only if you promise to repay me someday!" Quetza thought for a moment. He probably was never going to see this tiger again, so what the hey? "Sure, Coat Man, I'll repay this debt someday." The tiger nodded and handed Quetza the coat. The mere touch of this coat sent warm chills up his spine. It was practically euphoric!

"Beware, though, young adventurer! That coat, if worn too long, will fill you with magical heat. Not only will you gradually crave sex more and more, but your...eh...privates...will temporarily grow as well!" The Coat Man also tossed Quetza a flashlight. "Oh, and this is free with purchase, sir! Good day!" And with that, the Coat Man was on his way.

Quetza rubbed the coat against his cheek, his smile wide. "It's like hugging a thousand kitties at once!" Quetza giggled. He quickly put the coat on, feeling absolutely comfortable. He turned on the flashlight and took his first steps into the cavern. As he went deeper and deeper into the descending chasm, he felt no cold at all, all snug and warm in his new coat.

Quetza followed the twisting and turning passageways, being careful not to slip on the smooth and icy floor. He looked about, shining his flashlight from here to there, looking for the breastplate. "Now, if I were a breastplate that was somehow aware of where it was, where would I be?..." Quetza muttered to himself, intently searching about.

Finally, after a whole lot of nothing occurred, he found something sticking out of a snowdrift. He quickly dug the object out; it appeared to be some sort of intricate dagger, adorned with jewels and gold. It was truly a beautiful piece of craftsmanship. Quetza, while examining it, noticed an inscription on the side and read it aloud to himself.

"Behold, ye, and gaze upon the majesty of the Dagger of Time. With this power in your grasps, you may control the flow of the river of Time as ye wishes." Quetza scratched his head. "Huh, I wonder how it works..." He then noticed something else on the side of the dagger's handle: a coin slot. Quetza dug his hand into his pockets, searching for loose change. He pulled out a button. Why there's seemingly a button in everyone's pockets, I don't know, but hey, whatever.

"Boy, without any coins, this kind of thing is useless. Oh well, maybe it'll come in handy anyway." He pocketed the dagger and dumped the button in the snow. Perhaps some young, intrepid adventurer would find it useful someday. Alas, none do. But onward with our story!

As Quetza wandered the dark tunnels, he could feel something stirring down below. He realized that he was harboring quite a bit of a woody. He was reminded of the Coat Man's warning, but he knew that he was nearly there, and that if he could stand it for a while yet, he would be able to get out of there

After a bit more wandering, Quetza came across a large iron door. A slit in the door revealed what it hid: the breastplate, sitting atop the altar! Quetza smiled widely, 'eee'ing. "There it is! I just have to get past this stupid door and I've completed the first task!" The door replied, "Hey, I'm not stupid! I'll have you know I have a master's degree in philosophy!"

Quetza scoffed, "Philosophy?? Now there's a waste of money." The door yelled, "Shut up! I went to college for the parties, man, not for some shit higher-level of education! Now back off, I gotta give you a riddle so I can see if I can give you access!"

Quetza backed up, but as he moved, he was suddenly overcome with incredibly lust-filled thoughts, and his penis achingly pushed against his pants. He attempted ignoring it, concentrating on the door. "Alright, now, here's the riddle to get in the room with that breastplate thingy." Quetza awkwardly stood there, waiting as patiently as he could for the riddle, trying not to let his hands do what they so desperately wanted to do.

"A dozen Royals gathered round,

Entertained by two who clowned.

Each King there had servants ten,

Though none of them were also men.

The lowest servant sometimes might,

Defeat the King in a fair fight.

A weapon stout, a priceless jewel,

The beat of life, a farmer's tool."

As the door stated this poem, Quetza could not help but twitch and fidget as images of naked women flooded his mind, his meat absolutely aching for release. Suddenly, somewhere around the "Defeat the King.." line, Quetza felt the oddest tingling with the pain of his abstinence. He glanced down and noticed his penis was actually descending down his pant leg! He silently cursed that Coat Man and his magical coat, putting the fact that the feeling was incredible behind it.

The door finished its poem. "What am I talking about?" It paused for a moment, expecting a reply of some sort, but all he heard was some grunts and sounds of feet stomping back and forth. It noticed Quetza's twitching and fidgeting and asked, puzzled, "Do you need to, like, go to the bathroom or something?"

"S-S-Something like th-that..." Quetza bit his lower lip and pointed his head at the ceiling, clenching his eyes shut, using every bit of his will to resist the euphoric feelings. His penis was now past his knee, and Quetza had felt his balls to begin expanding as well, filling out the remaining area in his crotch. He whined like a child who really, really needed to pee. The door, if it had eyes, would've looked at the dragon cock-eyed and confusedly.

"Um...do you...need a minute or something--?"

"NO! No...no, I can...I can--mmph!--do this!" Quetza bent over, cramming his hands into the coat's pockets, absolutely refusing to relieve the pressure. His usually baggy pant leg was now very tight, and the button for his jeans had snapped open, the zipper beginning to unzip. "Um...okay--ergh...ugh...Royals...ah...two who clowned *pant*...mmph, ten servants..."

As Quetza mixed grunts with pondering, the door was starting to feel extremely uncomfortable. I mean, if you had a guy standing in front of you groaning and panting, wouldn't you be uncomfortable? "Hey, uh...look, I can wait. You can go do...whatever, you know."

Quetza shook his head violently. "NO! I CAN DO THI-THIS!!" He had to solve this riddle, and fast! If he gave into the pleasure, he would be stuck there forever, for he would never be able to remove the coat due to the cold. He thought and thought as best as he could, precum starting to form a stain at the bottom of his pant leg.

The door clearly had enough of this. "Alright, look, if I let you in, would you just stop doing whatever it is you're doing? Seriously, this is, like, the most awkward moment I have ever experienced in my career as an iron door guarding an item of mystic power." Quetza nodded his head quickly, teeth grinding. The door quickly opened, the creaking of the old hinges filling the cavern. The breastplate awaited a mere five yards from the entrance, shining brilliantly and just waiting for Quetza to get it.

Quetza attempted moving his legs, but found them somewhat paralyzed. He lifted his left foot and got it a fair distance towards his goal, but he quickly found it was impossible to bend his right leg. He took a few deep breaths and swung his leg in front of him. The feelings of his jeans rubbing against his hard-on was simply too much, and his pants exploded.

Denim and fabric went everywhere as his genitals were finally released from their prison. His penis stretched out in front of him a good two and a half feet, his balls the size of grapefruits at least. He moaned in complete pleasure, the combined feelings of his penis finally being free and the sudden cold only enticed him further. The door was, needless to say, completely shocked and appalled.

Quetza could fight no longer, and began to remove his hands from his pockets. When his claws were about to be revealed, a voice sprang forth from the back of Quetza's mind. No! the voice shouted, do not give in! You must complete this task, or else you'll never fly!

Unfortunately, the voice had no effect on poor Quetza's mind. He quickly took his shaking hands and grabbed his member somewhat forcefully. The mere touch sent jolts up Quetza's spine as a jet of cum erupted from his tip. He cried out in ecstasy. As his member continued to grow, he rubbed and stroked the giant length, purring and groaning as it expanded more and more. The stroking drove him practically insane as it just continued growing and growing, cum pooling along the trail it left.

Soon enough, his balls were so large that he couldn't reach the ground, and his penis grew along the ground. At this point, Quetza could hold back no longer, and felt his urethra balloon as gallons upon gallons of cum emptied in a powerful jet spray at the wall, melting the ice and snow instantly as it splashed about. Even as he came, however, his balls and penis continued to grow, Quetza rising into the air as he laid on his sack.

The door woke up from its abrupt coma and saw the dilemma, but it didn't really know what to do. When all hope seemed lost, however, It noticed that Quetza had had the legendary Dagger of Time in his pocket, and it was now sitting on the ground! He happened to have a quarter prepared for such an emergency as well! The door aimed carefully and, just as Quetza's head bumped into the ceiling, it threw with all its doorly might the quarter at the coin slot. With a ka-chink! the door knew it had succeeded.

As Quetza continued to cum feverishly into the tunnels and as the ceiling above him cracked from the pressure of his balls, a sudden light blinded him...

***

Quetza could fight no longer, and began to remove his hands from his pockets. When his claws were about to be revealed, a voice sprang forth from the back of Quetza's mind. No! the voice shouted, do not give in! You must complete this task, or else you'll never fly!

Quetza's eyes snapped open and his teeth ground. "You're right, voice in my head! I've got to do this, for me!!" He jammed his hands back into his pockets, much to the dissatisfaction of his member. In fact, as if in protest, its efforts grew, as well as itself. Quetza fought hard within himself to regain control, and managed to actually take a few steps, demanding and forcing his limbs to move.

Quetza managed to walk past the door, whom had now fainted from the fright, using every ounce of willpower within him to get his muscles working. The breastplate still sat there, patiently awaiting the poor young dragon. With a final push, Quetza roared and stomped the last few steps toward the altar. He collided into it, grabbing the breastplate as he tumbled down into the snow and slush.

***

Quetza looked about and found that he was back outside, sitting a few meters from the entrance of the Ice Cavern. His coat was gone, and his jeans were back on his legs. His genitals were normal, back to the usual size. Had it been a dream? A terrible, erotic dream? Quetza stood up, but found that he felt heavier than before. He lifted his shirt, and there on his chest was the Breastplate of Invulnerability +7! He gasped with joy and began a dance of celebration, which unfortunately ended abruptly as he tripped over a rock. Luckily he was not hurt, as he had the Breastplate of Invulnerability +7 on.

"Oh kickass, I can't get hurt! And I've completed the first task!" The dragon stood upright and put his fists to his waist. "Only four more to go!" he exclaimed, raising one of his hands into the air in a peace sign. Quetza giggled and skipped over to his canoe, ready to journey onward to complete the next task...

***

To be continued...

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