[b][u][center]Slayer or Layer 8
For Lorvianne
By Draconicon[/center][/u][/b]








Thankfully, Lorkos managed to find an unused horse blanket in the stables and stole it as fast as he could put his hands on it. The damn thing was scratchy, itchy, and probably covered in things that he didn’t want to think about to boot, but at least it was enough to cover his privates. Not all that unlike a giant towel. 

He circled around the back of the stables again, making his way to the back door of the inn once more. Silus, he could hear, was still doing something back there, and it sounded like he was alone. 

[i]No better time than this,[/i] he thought. He pushed open the door. 

The human turned as soon as the creaky old thing started to move. The chubby-jowled, brown-eyed man smiled at first, then his mouth lowered into a frown almost as soon as he saw the state of the wolf. 

“What happened to you?”

“Long story.”

“Very long, considering you ain’t got your armor anymore.”

“I don’t have anything except what I left with you.”

“You - how?! You’re one of the best dragonslayers in the world.”

Silus shook his head, the innkeeper seeming to remember some sense of hospitality. He nodded towards the table in the middle of the room, gesturing for Lorkos to take a seat. It was with some happiness that the wolf did just that. 

The small room was hardly a comfortable place for most people, set up as it was for the employees of the inn to catch quick breaks when they could. There was a table, a cut out box where ice and cold things could be stored, and a few fire pits where food was always cooking. Silus was kind enough to cut him a hunk of beef and throw it on a piece of bread before turning back to him, offering it. 

He took it without a thought, munching away. 

“So, what happened?”

“Told you. Long story.”

“Come on. You’re not going to leave me hanging with that, are you?”

“...”

“You know I’m not going to talk. Innkeepers that talk too much lose their custom.”

“I thought that was bartenders.”

“Other way around for them. They have to talk.”

“Hmmph.”

He was halfway through the beef - overcooked and dry, it was still the best thing he’d eaten since going up the mountain - when Silus poked him again. 

“Story. Now.”

“Ugh…”

He sighed. 

“Fine. Short version: I killed a dragon, the dragon’s mate got pissed, and I got cursed. Happy?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait a second. You? You of all people got cursed?”

“Yes, I did.”

“...And how is that working out for you?”

“Pretty damn badly, thanks for asking.”

He glared at Silus, daring the innkeeper to actually make him show the damn thing off. If he did…

[i]If he does, then I’m going to be out of luck, because he’s got all my stuff.[/i]

And he wasn’t the sort to kill. He had never been one to just cut down those that stood in his way unless they were part of the scaly menace. If they were human, if they were mammalian, then there was every reason to spare them and try and work his way around them. Much as he hated to admit it, Silus had him over a barrel, and the old man probably knew it. 

“You gonna show me?”

Yep, he knew it. 

“I just want to find a mage and get it removed.”

“Gonna be a hard time doing that. Dragon magic is powerful stuff.”

“You’re telling me.”

“And the longer it sits -”

“The worse it gets. I know.”

“And if they’re watching you -”

“They’ll have taken precautious. I. Know. Stop. Talking.”

“Geez. Just making conversation.”

Shaking his head, Lorkos just tried to think about the food in his mouth and the lessening of the pit in his stomach. All those eggs must have been taking more out of him than he thought. Without the belly bulge, he felt like he was skinnier than he’d ever been, like a wolf that had gone through an entire winter without anything to plump him back up. 

The large hunk of beef was enough to keep him from feeling sick anymore, but he wasn’t full. Not by any means. 

“Can I get some cheese and bread? And maybe some more meat?”

“Why?”

“Because I’m still hungry.”

“Am I going to get to see the curse?”

“Ugh!”

The wolf shook his head, but the innkeeper held firm. 

“Look. You’re a friend. You’re a very good friend. But if you’re really cursed by dragons, then I need to know that you’re not dangerous.”

“Do I look dangerous to you?”

“Curses are deceptive. I’ve been really nice so far, but come on. Let me see before I have to call the guard on you.”

It had come down to this. Not what he wanted, not in the slightest, but there was not really a way out of it. Nor could he fault the old man for pushing this sort of thing. If the shoe was on the other foot, he’d probably have done the same thing. 

“Fine. Fine.”

He stood up and let the blanket drop. At first, Silus started to look away, but then the old man paused. The innkeeper leaned in, his eyes blinking a few times before looking up from the wolf’s crotch. He looked down, then up, then down again. 

“Uh…”

“No, it wasn’t like that before.”

“Not even…”

“Not even furry.”

“...Damn.”

Silus shook his head as he stood back up. The innkeeper opened his mouth, then shut it, turning away. 

For his part, Lorkos was just as happy to put the blanket back on. If someone else besides Silus saw that, he would have a lot of explaining to do. Hell, he was pretty sure that he already had plenty of that to do with just the innkeeper seeing it. 

More than ever, he was grateful that the eggs that he’d laid were still up on the mountain or inside of it. The last thing he needed was for anyone down here to see that he was contributing to the scaly menace. Considering that the people here had to deal with them all the time, he was damn sure that they would probably kill him for making their lives more difficult. Hell, he would kill him. 

[i]I just need to get my stuff. He’s got to know that this is dangerous now, that I need to get it removed. No more games, Silus. No more games.[/i]

The innkeeper looked back at him, and there must have been something in his gaze because there really were no more questions. The old man left, heading off to wherever he had stashed the dragonslayer’s goods, and Lorkos let out a deep breath that he hadn’t even been sure that he was holding. 

He leaned back, staring up at the ceiling. The image of the dragoness that had cursed him danced through his head and the wolf growled. He held up his fist, strangling the air in front of him as he imagined her - 

And then the curse hit him. 

The wolf groaned, curling up, his head and chest falling forward against the table. His arms curled around his middle as his cunt suddenly burned with heat, the need to breed triggered by the goddamn hate of the dragons. Oh, that was a mistake. That was a big mistake. 

Even as he patted the horse blanket against his sex, trying to stem the flow of juices running free, he could feel that there was more waiting, more need already building up. The dragoness had made sure that he would keep laying eggs no matter what he did. He was on the clock, and he’d just kicked it to speed it up. 

[i]When am I going to learn?[/i]

He knew that hating the dragons was going to make this so much harder. He knew from experience that what he’d just done would make his life more difficult. Yet, he’d done it anyway. God. Damn. 

Lorkos stopped himself from going further, knowing that he’d curse the dragons and make his life that much harder. He was already soaking wet, already going to have to explain the smell of horny dragoness to Silus. He didn’t want to pounce the old man and start begging him for fun, too. 

Silus returned shortly after the wolf was able to pull himself upright. The old man started to talk, paused, sniffed the air. 

“What the -”

“Clothes. Now.”

“Did you just -”

“Silus, I swear to all that you hold holy, if you do not give me those clothes right now I’m going to rip them out of your hands and throw you out the window. Clothes. Now!”

The innkeeper tossed them over, and Lorkos quickly dressed himself, pulling the cotton undershirt on before pulling the leather jerkin over it. Leather pants followed, though not before the innkeeper got a good look at the wolf’s slippery sex, followed by boots that had been specifically made for him. He slipped them on, wiggled his toes to get them comfortable, and then sighed in relief. 

[i]Clothing. Thank. God. For. Clothing.[/i]

He waited for the burn, but there was none. Not yet, at least. He imagined that if he went too long with clothes on, the curse would burn a hole between his legs, but that was something yet to happen. He could hope. 

“And my sword?”

“...I sold it.”

“...What?”

Silus shrugged. 

“It was an old thing. You had one when you went up the mountain, didn’t you?”

“I got beaten. Do you really think that if I didn’t get away with my armor that I got away with my sword?”

“It’s a possibility. You could have kept it with you.”

“Where? I walked in here naked.”

“...Fair point.”

The wolf slapped his forehead. Now he wasn’t just traveling with less armor, but with less weapons. Despite going [i]away[/i] from the mountains, there were still bandits on the road, still monsters to worry about out in the world. Without a weapon, he couldn’t defend himself. Without a weapon, he’d basically be live bait for whatever creature happened to spot him first. 

Silus patted him on the arm as he tried to think it through, the old man squeezing gently. 

“You’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah? Unless someone wants to just give theirs up, I don’t see how.”

“Well, you do, um, have some new equipment instead.”

“What are you talking about?”

The human pointed down, down between the wolf’s legs, and Lorkos’s cheeks went as red as they could go. 

“You can’t be serious.”

“Well, it is the oldest trade, and you’re more likely to attract people with, um, that, than you were anything else.”

“Are you saying I should -”

“If you want to get money or a sword or...well, anything? It seems like the quickest way, don’t you think?”

“Silus, if I didn’t know better -”

“Trust me, I am [i]not[/i] sticking my dick in cursed.”

“You better not be.”

“But there’s plenty of people here who are desperate enough, and many that have been, well, used to using...alternative sources of pleasure. The nights are long out here in the mountains, and sometimes, when the scalies are in heat…”

“...”

“Well, they can be very accommodating. You can probably find someone that’ll...do it...with you, if you aren’t too picky.”

“...First, I’m getting a sword. Then I’m going to come back and cut off your arms for getting me into this mess.”

Maiming wasn’t killing, and Silus would live. He hoped. God, how did this mess keep getting worse?















[b][u][center]The End[/center][/u][/b]