FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The Potion of Pleasure For superduperdog By Draconicon

Morris looked out the window to his city and could hardly see it through the flames. The white wolf growled deep in his throat, but even that sound was muffled from the screams down below.

The white wolf's teeth were bared and his jaws ached as he clenched them together at the sound of humping, growling, screaming, howling from down below. The court of his father and the soldiers that had staffed the royal palace had been turned into little more than fuck toys for the warlord that had come screaming over the hills. More than half of them had been brought before the throne and bent over for the pleasure of the great beast that had taken over. From the din that came through the stone floor, Morris imagined that perhaps a third of them were left.

And when that third had been taken...

He looked out the window again. Even from his spire of the palace, he could make out people running in the streets, other wolves chased by the scaly soldiers that followed the warlord. In some alleys, he could see that his people were being fucked, raped, used, broken. There were screams to match the crackle of flames out there.

But it was nothing compared to what would happen when the warlord and his cronies finished with the court.

The white wolf turned away, a great pink cloak dragging on the floor behind him as he walked to the great chest at the foot of his bed. The prince knelt down, pulling it open and dragging out a smaller chest underneath his clothes.

Sacrifices must be made, he thought, setting it on the foot of his bed. And when the soldiers are done, it is the royals that must sacrifice.

He told himself that his sacrifice would give the survivors in the city a chance to flee. He reminded himself that he had the stamina and the endurance to take whatever the warlord would throw at him. He went so far as to lie and think that he could outfuck the warlord and all of the officers that now occupied the palace.

They were lies, but they were comforting ones.

Morris eventually found the potion that he was looking for, corked and cushioned between four different silk hankies. All of them favors from past conquests, all of them probably dead by the sword of some scaly soldier or other. He did his best not to think about them, but his hand shook nonetheless from it.

The cork came free easily. The wolf took a deep breath, then downed the potion in one gulp.

Contrary to popular belief, the power of transformation didn't come with pain, nor did it come with heat. If anything, it came with the chilling knowledge that you were giving away your body, that you were becoming something that you were never meant to be.

His chest itched as subtle bumps replaced his hard, lithe physique. Not breasts, but buds, buds that showed off nipples beneath his white fur, just enough to palm without being truly female. They grew more sensitive, more...eager, for lack of a better word, his flesh cold as the blood fought to catch up.

He ran his hands down his hips beneath his cloak, feeling them flaring out, the widening of his new hourglass shape leaving him grimacing. He had always been a fighter, a duelist of some talent, but with those hips...

You'll be dueling with a different weapon, now, the prince thought. You are made to catch the sword, not deflect it. Think of it like that...

Yet it wasn't easy, particularly as he felt the chill growing just as his ass did the same. He gasped for breath, his eyes going wide as his rump expanded behind him, lifting the cloak by a few inches as it pushed back. He wobbled on his feet, his thighs thickening ever so slightly, adding to the curves of his lower half.

He bit his lips, growling deep in his throat as he fought to find his new center of gravity, but it wasn't until the heat returned - returned right under his tail - that he was finally able to recover. The wolf bit his lips again, taking a deep breath before letting it out.

It was done. His body...well, the transformation was somewhat meager, but it would be enough to catch the eye of the warlord. More importantly, that heat down there, that eagerness, would help him overcome his distaste of the other man and make him more...skilled.

Or at the very least, it would make him more interested.

When he was sure that the transformation was completely done, that he wouldn't be growing any further, Morris stripped off his cloak. It fell to the ground behind him as he looked at a mirror, and he froze as he saw what he had become.

From the waist down, as long as he kept his thighs together, he looked like a woman. His rump had grown round and full, and his hips naturally swayed as he shifted his weight, looking like the slow dance of a woman in a den of ill-repute. His cock, pushed down and between his legs, might as well have not existed for all one could see of it.

From the waist up, he still had a semblance of masculinity, particularly in the face, but with the soft, palmable buds on his chest, he knew that he looked more like a male that had become a female than a true male.

And it was just what he needed to keep the attention of the warlord. Now, to find some lingerie to finish the job...

As he opened the great doors to the throne room, Morris still questioned his plan. He knew that it was risky, knew that there was every possibility that the warlord would throw him to the officers and descend upon the city with fire and destruction. After all, the dragon had been fucking all day long. He might have gotten too bored of it for even the wolf's body to entice him.

But as soon as the great red dragon's eyes fell upon him, the white wolf knew that his plan had worked.

"Hail, warlord of the plains. The prince of the city offers himself to you, as tribute from your new lands," Morris said without the slightest catch in his voice.

The red dragon looked him over, then crooked a finger in summons. The wolf happily obeyed.

He swayed from side to side, his hips moving so differently than before. It wasn't the casual saunter of a duelist or the soft swagger of royalty. No, it was the hot, sexual sway of a vixen in heat, of a wolf bitch looking to be bred, and he could feel every slow grind, every slight jiggle in his bigger rump.

And more, he could feel the eyes of the court upon him, following him up to the throne. He did his best to ignore them, even as his cock throbbed in the lacy panties he wore.

The dragon warlord said nothing as he approached, merely leaned back and spread his legs. There was no mistaking the gesture; the warlord expected to be serviced, and much as the wolf despised the other male, he knew that he would give the service required.

Already, the heat burned beneath his tail, and a glance at the dragon's member enflamed that need all the further. It was large, knotted at the base and twitching, dripping at the tip, and the entire length was saturated with the dragon's juices. Despite the heat and musk of the shaft, bestial as one could imagine, Morris could feel the hunger in his hole growing.

Keep calm, he thought to himself as he sat in the dragon's lap. Ride him. Ride him for as long as you can. Give him what he wants...and save the people...

"You wear too much for a whore," the dragon growled.

"I am tribute. What you do to me is up to you."

"Heh...I think we both know what's going to happen to you."

He knew, alright, and his body was already looking forward to it. Morris put on a smile - or at least, he told himself that he put on a smile - as the dragon warlord reached behind him. Claws dragged through the lace he wore, then ripped a hole between his ass cheeks.

A moment later, the dragon's cock rose, slapping against the cheeks, then sliding between them. The warlord looked up at him, smirking.

"Take it..."

"As you command."

He turned, facing away from the conquering dragon, leaning forward so that his ass was more fully on display as he grabbed hold of the great rod below him. It was big enough to spread his fingers wide, and Morris bit off a gasp as he thought about how far it would stretch him open.

But he had to do it. For his people...

The heat inside him flared higher as he lifted his rump, resting his hole right on top of the cockhead beneath him. It was hot and wet, and he was sure that many others had been on it already from how slick it was with old cum.

And he had to ride it.

Taking a deep breath, Morris impaled himself upon it, and instantly gasped from its size. His hole was spread as far as it could go without ripping - at least, so it felt - and he was barely halfway down. His eyes went wide, his hefty rump spread apart by the sheer size of the dragon's cock.

And the warlord...chuckled.

"Is that all the great prince can do?" the dragon hissed. "Is that all he's got?"

"Not...in the slightest..."

The wolf smiled. He didn't know if it was smart to challenge the dragon, he didn't know if it was safe to do it. But he did know that he had to do something...

And not just for the people anymore.

His cock throbbed in the front of his panties, his need rising higher and higher as that cock stretched him out. The wolf slid forward, feeling the thickness of the shaft tugging at his inner walls, and every little tug, every little rub sent another thrill through his cock, another tingle down his spine.

And then, he slid down on it again.

"Mmmph..."

The dragon's grunt was all he needed to hear. The tightness of his hole was still unchallenged, and he knew pleasure when he heard it. Sure, it was far harder for him to take it than he had expected...and it was a much bigger, much harder cock with bigger balls than he had anticipated...

But something in him relished the challenge. Something in him craved it, needed it...

Required it.

And what a prince required, a prince would have. Screw the populace...he wanted...he needed this cock.

The End