FicWad

The Wyrm's Curse

Chapter 2



Kara shifted, her mind rising slowly back to consciousness. So well had she slept, and so peaceful was her waking that she lay for some time, tangled comfortably in the bedclothes, without opening her eyes or even thinking anything coherent. She was vaguely aware of warm light playing over her closed eyelids. The smells; cedar, oak, wildflowers and sphagnum were so familiar as to go un-noted.

It was the birdsong that eventually prompted her to rouse herself from contented torpor. Shifting from her tummy to her side, threadbare and patched linen sheets coiling and sliding, she curled into a tight ball. Then, catlike, she stretched herself out, arching her back and yawning enormously. Settling again, her hands running down over her breasts to her stomach, she took note of the fact that she was very much naked.

Kara blinked her eyes open. She had no recollection of undressing. Running her hands down over her hips and between her legs as if to confirm her complete nudity, she made a grumblous noise. Furrowing her brow in frustrated concentration, nonetheless she could remember nothing since...

Oh. Couldn't have been a dream, though, she thought. Growing concerned that her grip on reality was faltering, her eyes flitted around the room. Her room. In her modest cottage. Everything seemed to be as she had left it before the failed treasure hunting expedition.

Fighting her way free of the linens, she rolled to the edge of the sphagnum covered slab of earth that was her bed. She saw the clothes and gear she had worn on the expedition piled on the dirt floor beside the bed. She stared at them. After several seconds she sat up and examined her hand, unsure what she hoped to see.

There they were. Two little white scars on the lightly tanned skin between thumb and forefinger. But they shouldn't be scars. Should they?

More of the wyrm's magic? Had it healed the punctures or had she actually been asleep long enough for them to heal? No. She could do with a bit of croissant, but she wasn't starving. Surely even if the old lizard could manage to somehow keep her nourished and hydrated, it wouldn't have gone to the trouble.

It was a long way from the mountains to her bed. What method had the wyrm used to get her here?

"Hmp." she shrugged.

She was sorely tempted to curl back up and try to regain the wonderful state she had been in before opening her eyes. But she needed to visit the outhouse anyway. Frowning in anticipation, she picked up the wadded ball of her tights from the floor and sniffed them. To make sure she shook them out and ran a hand over them.

Well. Apparently Copper had found time to wash or otherwise clean her soiled clothes.

Kara glanced back at the sunlit window and smirked. She dropped the tights back onto the pile of clothes. This far into the forest she got very few visitors and she was feeling good despite recent events. Padding through to the kitchen she poured water from a clay jug into a wash basin. Cupping her hands, she splashed some onto her face, inadvertently raining much of it over her breasts to run down her body.

"Wuh!" she exclaimed at the chill of the water, then laughed unselfconsciously.

After a quick shiver Kara turned and took the hall to the back door, passing between the trap door leading down to the root cellar and the guest room cum storage closet. Stopping just outside the door she inhaled deeply. A light breeze drifted through the forest, causing leaves and boughs to add their sighing rustle to the random birdsong. Kara felt the warm sunlight spilling and shifting over her as branches swayed gently. It contrasted pleasantly with the exhilarating cold of the lingering water which caused her nipples to harden and tingle.

Memories of the night before came to mind. The soft firm touch of a beast turned semi-human. It's hot mouth and questing tongue. With an idea that leaving the forest to go into Blanc Mar would have to wait a bit, she hurried to the outhouse.

After relieving herself she returned to the kitchen to wash herself thoroughly. After which she exited - by the front door this time. She walked, still naked, into the small open area there. Finding a large patch of moss where the sun would help dry her, she knelt and rolled onto her back, spreadeagled. Wiggling, curling and nuzzling herself against the soft, sun-warmed blanket of green, she nudged her mind back to those outlandish memories.

As if all along waiting for her summons, the blurred, confused memories of her tryst with the dragoness flooded forth. Kara could almost feel the soft, full breasts against her and the heat of Copper's mouth as their tongues had met. She squeezed her breasts and moaned, again remembering Copper's mouth at work.

In her mind, her ashen skinned captor moved down her body. Pressing firmly, Kara slid a hand down, following the trail of Copper's kisses, licks and playful nipping. Her juices were already beginning to seep from her swollen cleft when her fingers met her soft, dark pubic hair. Throbbing with desire, she nonetheless stopped, prolonging and intensifying her need.

On impulse she rolled onto her stomach and worked her knees up under her, raising her bottom into the air. With her breasts, face and one forearm still pressed to the tickling moss, she inched her knees farther apart to spread her legs. The warm breeze found her slick, parted lips and she pressed her face down to exhale wordless sounds of pleasure into the yielding blanket of moss.

Finally succumbing to her arousal, she slid her hand back over her mound to press her middle finger between her swollen lips. Feeling her finger become coated with her salty juices spurred her on. She slid her slippery digit up over her clit, gasping at the gliding pressure. Immediately she began rubbing her fingertip up and down, then side to side, pressed to her engorged bud.

And she was cumming. Emitting sharp little cries at the intense, building waves of pleasure. She rubbed manically, paused, rubbed again as the waves hit her. Her hips rolling and jerking, she persisted as her climax passed, sensing another not far off.

Tragically, before she could work herself to a second orgasm, something went very wrong.

Tremendous pain as of the worst cramps ripped through her lower abdomen. The pain was accompanied by a sense of great pressure.

Falling back onto her side Kara clutched one hand to her gut, balling the other into a fist. She gritted her teeth, eyes squinted shut, unable to relax even enough to take a breath.

The pain and pressure went as suddenly as it had come. Strangely, it didn't simply relax or dissipate, but felt as if it had been physically expelled. Gradually un-bunching her muscles and taking a breath, she was surprised by several new sensations competing for her attention.

Something warm and soft which was neither her thighs, nor one of her hands was resting pressed over her damp pussy. It registered a mild but insistent discomfort, causing her to spread her thighs slightly. At the same time she was getting throbbing from places from which her brain really had no reason to be receiving anything.

The most bizarre was when the source of this new throbbing twitched in toward her gut, wetly striking the back of her hand. She registered the feeling not only in her hand, but also in, well, whatever the hell was throbbing.

That was enough to shock her into opening her eyes, despite the accompanying fear of what fresh horrors might await.

After several long moments she took a slow, deep breath, realizing she had been holding it again.

Kara was no doctor, but she was no virgin or prude either. What she was looking at was definitely, unmistakeably... Gods, a cock is what it was.

Not just a cock, she thought, again wondering if she were coming unhinged. Not just a cock - my cock.

Having a natural curiosity about male genitalia, part of her wanted to touch it. Especially now that she could assumedly see what it felt like from the other side, so to speak.

Another part of her was repulsed and considered the appearance of this new appendage comparable to finding an unexpected and rather oversized leach attached to her.

Other, less insistent emotions ran the gamut from relief that the pain had passed and she wasn't dying of some unidentified internal rupture to an urge to give up, drink a lot of wine, and go to sleep until ridiculous, insane things stopped happening.

Letting fascination and curiosity take the fore, Kara shifted around slowly to study her new member from different angles. When she rolled her hips forward, tensing her stomach muscles, a shock of pleasure ran up the length of her cock from within, causing it to jump. She raised her eyebrows, slack jawed.

"O-kay." she mouthed in a shaky whisper.

Experimenting further, she was amused and pleased to find she could in fact tense her cock intentionally. She was smiling bemusedly, surprised at how quickly she was becoming accustomed to her new 'manhood,' when chattering erupted mere feet overhead. Kara flinched hard, heart jumping into her throat.

Glancing up, Kara found the culprit. A large red squirrel was sitting up on a low branch, eyeballing her suspiciously between bouts of reproachful chatter.

"Tsss! Cheeky little shit." she scowled unconvincingly. "Don't like the show? I should charge you."

With one last, flippant squeak, the rodent scampered along the branch, bounded to another and disappeared further into the forest.

"Hmph. That's fine. I'm not that fond of acorns anyway." Kara muttered before returning her attention to matters at hand.

She lay on her back now, propped up on her elbows enough to look down her body. Her cock was no longer standing rigid, but lay heavily on her tummy, veins standing out along it's length. Tentatively moving it to one side and holding it there with one hand she slid her other hand down between her legs. With exaggerated care she cupped her balls for the first time.

She had never really given much thought to how men walked around like this. Now she just hoped it wasn't going to be too painful figuring it out.

Dismissing the thought until she had to deal with it, she probed further and found that yes, her pussy was still there. Apparently unharmed by her transformation. Having begun stroking her cock almost unconsciously, she decided it would probably be wise to make sure.

She layed back, closing her eyes. As she ran a finger slowly down between her lips, her erection had already returned. Wrapping her fingers around the head, which her soft, tan foreskin didn't quite cover, she squeezed. Moaning, she stroked halfway down, sliding the foreskin down from the head. Her cock throbbed.

For a few long minute she slowly fingered herself. Her hot juices coated her fingers and ran down her ass to seep into the moss. All the while she stroked her straining prick.

Before long she could feel the sensations building. Her new testicles began to draw up. A thin stream of precum dribbled from the head of her cock, becoming natural lubricant.

Oh, that felt good. Somehow she hadn't thought about lubrication. Now that the idea occured to her, she released her member long enough to switch hands. For good measure she spat enthusiastically into her hand before gripping her shaft.

Steadily increasing her pace, Kara was too overcome by pleasure to think. She was becoming lightheaded. Her pussy gripped rhythmically at the two fingers she pressed into herself. Practically panting, she gasped out little exclamations with each stroke.

"Oh... mmph... oh, fuck...oh, oh, uhh!'

Kara's hips jerked uncontrollably. She only vaguely noticed when the first spurt of cum landed on her face, trailing from her left cheek over her eye to her forehead. As she climaxed, stream after stream of thick salty seed burst forth to spatter over her body.

Her light-headedness became something more. The world had faded away and Kara's mind was, for a few endless moments, adrift in a sea of overwhelming pleasure.

As she began to come down from the orgasm, individual sensations returned. Shuddering, the throbbing of her cock, the heat of the gobs and ropes of cum spattered over her bare skin.

She took a deep, shaky breath and finally relaxed her tense muscles as she exhaled. One hand still loosely holding her slowly softening cock, she slipped her fingers out of her sopping pussy. She never would have believed that she would feel more relaxed than she had when she woke up that morning.

For almost a full minute Kara lay unmoving; utterly limp. Unaware of the fact, she wore a foolish, satisfied grin.

When she finally stirred, she wiped her free hand on the mossy ground cover. Bringing it up to her face she did what she could to wipe the cum from her face, especially around her left eye. On a whim she slid a couple sticky digits into her mouth, licking them clean.

Hmm. Yes, that was more or less how she remembered it. Salty. Not the most pleasant consistency. Fun to play with though. With that thought she ran her hands up over her tummy to give her breasts a squeeze. Amazed at what she felt, she sat up a enough to look at herself.

"Holy goat-fucking trolls." she murmured, eyes wide.

As she had sat up, a thick rivulet had run down from the hollow of her throat. Her hands had smeared it, but there had to have been strings and splashes of the stuff from her naval up to and covering her breasts. Little clear streaks, most drying to snail trails now, showed where some had run off her sides to soak into the moss.

While playing about poking a fingertip into the tiny pool of goo in her naval she noticed that not only was her newest appendage now limp, but it was still shrinking. Noticeably.

How could something that was swelled so big a couple minutes ago shrink so small? Maybe it wouldn't be so hard walking around with it after all.

As she watched, Kara felt a wave of nausea pass over her. There was a faint sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. The discomfort passed as her male parts shrank completely away, leaving only the smooth, tan skin partially covered in short umber hair which had been there before her transformation.

Kara tentatively ran a hand over the spot. If not for the vast panorama of semen there would have been no sign that she had ever been anything other than a half elven woman.

Of course, she thought. Because things weren't strange enough as it was. And she was just beginning to think it might be worth dealing with the condition.

With a shrug and a pout, she ran her hands up and down through the ridiculous mess of cum one last time, like a small child with finger paints. That done, she hopped up, brushing at her backside to remove any clinging bits. Realizing she had mainly succeeded in wiping her sticky hands on her ass, she smiled sheepishly, rolled her eyes and strolled back to the cottage, hips swaying.

Once inside she washed up again. She dressed in fresh tights, a linen wrap to restrain her breasts, and a maroon linen peasant blouse. Answering the growl in her stomach, she retrieved a cured ham from the little root cellar and a square of hardtack from the pantry. After eating a bit of each and washing them down with a ladle-full of water she padded back to her room to finish dressing.

Belt and leather plate skirt. Socks and boots. Leather doublet and knife rig. She noted she was missing a knife. She wondered idly if it still lay at the fateful crossroads down in the dwarven halls. If she had been the superstitious type she would have said good riddance. Obviously bad luck, having led her to the wyrm Copper.

She rain a hand back through her umber and chestnut locks. Her mop of hair was just curly enough that it had a tendency to form foxtails - a testament to her half human heritage. Elves generally had very straight hair. It was a bit too short to pull back and bind, but long enough that it tended to fall about her face and interfere with clear vision.

Going to her chest of drawers Kara found a parcel the size of her fist wrapped in a huge oak leaf. Within the leaf was a chunk of beeswax scented with the oils of roses and irises. Kara methodically warmed wax in her hands and worked it into her hair, pulling it back from her face and matting it toward the back of her head. When finished she re-wrapped the remaining wax and returned it to the chest of drawers.

Lastly she pulled on her calfskin gloves. Checking, she smiled a sour smile at the two holes between the thumb and forefinger of her right glove.

Staring at those holes she was reminded of the night before. Or however long ago it had actually been. She was reminded of the first piece of business she would look to put behind her when she arrived in Blanc Mar. In her time, Kara had been a pickpocket, a burglar, twice a paid assassin, a bodyguard and a mercenary. She had found that it was seldom good business in any of these professions to allow accomplices to cut and run, leaving you to hang in the wind.

Ransacking her pouches to make sure she had enough coin for some groceries, necessaries and a stop at the town sawbones if necessary, she found one of them more full than expected. Suspicious, she took it into the kitchen and emptied it onto the seldom used table.

Coins clattered and rolled. A dozen silver pieces. Half dozen bronze. Two coppers. And... something else. It was rolled like a scroll, but colored and glinting like copper. Gingerly she pinned the outside edge under a gloved fingertip, then carefully unrolled the rest.

Held down flat, the parchment thin copper measured about four inches by eighteen inches. There was clearly writing of some kind tapped into the metal sheet. Kara furrowed her brow and sighed in annoyance. It looked old and totally unfamiliar. The markings vaguely reminded her of the runes the dwarfs used. That seemed somewhat ironic.

Kara was sure the copper scroll was a message from the dragon. It had been obvious to her that her earlier transformation was the wyrm's work. It was only at the point when she was staring at the scroll that she made any connection between that and the wyrm's cryptic blather about a challenge.

Well, she had been considering taking a vacation somewhere a long way from town anyway. Maybe she would take a coach up to Tollenville and visit Mirielle. She should be able to figure the dragon scribbles.

Kara replaced the scroll and coins in her pouch and tied the pouch back on her belt. On her way out she took a canvas seabag from where it hung on a coat-hook next to the door and tucked it under an arm.

She moved easily through the familiar woods, headed East toward the Southern trade road that would lead up past Blanc Mar. From time to time she would check the knives strapped to her in their pairs, grasping and pulling them loose no more than an inch and sliding them firmly back. Each time she grasped air where her missing knife would have been. It was a nervous habit she had developed while running with a mercenary band up north. Now she exhibited it whenever the prospect of serious violence presented itself.

As it did now.