Dragon in Fine Print

by KAS

"Now this, damnit, this is why Wizards are supposed to live on top of mountains, or in far away castles! To keep the common numbskull on the street from having easy access to magic he only half understands, and thus only uses half right!"

-- Attributed to Vincent Elroy Strabblehaust III, Arch Mage and CEO of Widget Wands Inc

Wallace paced back and forth in front of the living room window, watching anxiously for the Airborne Express van. Wringing his hands, he all but bounced on his heels. In fact, he did produce a small bounce from time to time.

The scruffy haired 20-something stopped pacing for a moment, because that was getting too neurotic. After standing in one place for a minute or two, one foot tapping, he decided this was neurotic as well and resumed pacing.

The chugging of the deliver truck's engine was Wallace's salvation. Running to the door, he watched out the peep-hole anxiously as the Airborne Express driver pulled up to the curb and put it in park with a high pitched hydraulic hiss.

"Come on, come on!" he muttered under his breath as he waited for the driver to emerge from the back of the van with his delivery. At last, the deliveryman appeared, and started marching up the walkway to the door. Wallace didn't even wait for him to get halfway; he was already out the door.

Trying his best to hide his excitment and agitation, Wallace eyed the shoebox-sized parcel in the crook of the driver's arm as he pressed his thumb down to the sensor pad on the clipboard held up before him. Taking the package into his hands, he scurried back up the walk and into the house. Leaning against the inside face of the resecured front door, the young man let out a long, relieved breath. Not only was he terribly excited by what the package contained, but he was relieved that it had arrived at all, and that the thumbprint reader hadn't brought up any flags on the clipboard... because the package contained items of amazingly questionable legal status.

After closing all the blinds, dimming down the brightness of the ceiling panels in the kitchen, and making sure the door to the back porch and garage was locked as well, Wallace sat down at the kitchen table with the package and carefully unpacked it.

Inside were several layers of brown wrapping paper, which peeled back like the layers of an onion to reveal the miniature chest made of laqured oak inside. A classy little thing, he thought to himself; magical people were known to take great pride in their craftmanship. Opening the lid of the chest tenderly, cautiously, he found a velvet-lined compartment that contained a small crystal flask and a scroll made of fine parchment. Taking out the scroll with care, Wallace unrolled it to read the document.

Ever since the early 20's when Wizardry had come back into vogue, there had been a small but signifigant number of people versed in the mystic arts who realized that in the modern, commercial world, magic could be incredibly profitable. Their ethics and mores were no end of annoyance for the more solitary and serious practitioners, but that didn't stop some of them from becoming quite famous, and reasonably wealthy.

In the United States, it had fast come under debate just how Business Law should be adapted to compensate for the new merchants of magic. As often was the case in the Land of the Free, restricting their freedom was settled on as the safest course of action.

Commercial magic was burdened down with a wide array of codes, regulations, taxes, paperwork, and harsh restrictions. Within a short time, only large companies had the resources to keep track of it all. Magic quickly became just another buzzword used to add gimmick value to new products. Only the most mundane and harmless of enchantments were approved for use in products. Psychic Televisions that changed channels by directly sampling the attention span (or lack thereof) of the viewer were the hottest fad of 2022.

The document that Wallace now sat reading outlined something that definately was not in the category of mundane and harmless. One of the very first things restricted from public sale were shape-shifting magics. The moment a US citizen had used a homebrew spell to transform himself into an entirely different form, and then sued for recognition of his civil rights, the federal government had come to a solid conclusion: shape-shifting and maintaining a nice, tight, indexed and ordered society didn't go hand in hand. If anybody could be anything at any time, exactly how was the Internal Revenue Service going to verify who had really paid their taxes, much less collect them?

That first changeling had won his court case. The government didn't dare face the storm of denying human sentience, regardless of physical appearance, but while it couldn't do anything to stop individuals from stumbling across the tools for transformation occasionally, it would damn well make sure nobody could sell the pre-packaged goods over the counter.

Wallace finished skimming over the documents to the spell package he had purchased. His comprehension of a lot of the fine print that was after the main instructions was perhaps shakey, but he had the basics down enough to feel confident and more excited than ever before. Now he went around the house, making some final checks on his preparations.

He made sure the bed room was all laid out. Digging through boxes in the closet, he brought out items indicative of various kinks he had, and that were shared by his house mate. A sampling of light bondage gear--nothing that nasty, perhaps just teasing on the whole, and also some equipment that had been ordered from a ranch supplier--gear that looked as if it belonged on a horse. Because it did.

A few more items revealed other fetishes--chief amount them, a latex body suit that sported a scale-like, molded pattern on the exterior. The suit revealed a fetish for reptiles, but it wasn't for Wallace. That had been fitted for his lover, because their intentions were that Wallace wouldn't be needing any fake scales.

He surveyed all the equipment around the room, feeling a bit embarrassed at the sheer numbers and kinkyness of it. Heading back to the kitchen, he looked at the open chest on the table and the flask inside it. It was hours yet before his lover returned. They'd agreed that messing around with anything like magic ought to be done with the buddy system, in case anything went wrong, but Wallace was having some serious pain waiting.

The thought kept nibbling away at him, "If I started now, it should be done when he gets home." And the thought of what he intended to be, lying on the bed and beckoning seductively when his lover walked in, was so erotic that it nearly brought him to his knees.

It took a whole of five more minutes for Wallace to give in.

The flask was opened. He first consumed the specified volume of water, and then the contents of the flask went down the hatch.

Wallace stood waiting to see what happened next.

Ten minutes later, Wallace was beginning to feel a little foolish. Standing with his legs spread, and fists balled in preparation for a sudden and brutally painful transformation, he realized that nothing was happening aside from the feeling of an upset stomach.

"Well, crap..." he muttered, relaxing his hands and letting them fall to his sides. The potion had tasted very strange, and caused a tingling on the way down, but it wasn't anything a good hard Russian Sambuca couldn't duplicate. A part of his mind suggested the obvious: that he'd been had, and charged a lot of money for nothing. The rest of his mind, set on its goal, shoved the worry down and prodded Wallace to return to the kitchen and check that scroll again.

It was at the kitchen door that the magic finally kicked in, and the young man felt truly ill.

With a lurch, Wallace gripped the doorjam to steady himself as everything swam around him. His sense of balance twisting into knots, he could observe an odd effect creeping in from the edges of his vision--a fluid warping of his sight, as if everything had taken the quality of a watercolor painting just slightly. Then he felt a crawling sensation along his skin. The feeling appeared in spots all over his body at once, and felt as if it were spreading from there. Struggling to see clearly, he pulled his arm back to stare at it.

It looked like an army of red ants was swarming over his hand and up his arm. Then he realized what it was: small, delicate red scales were emerging from his skin.

Wallace managed to make it to the bed before falling over from the nausea. Pulling his shirt off roughly, popping buttons in the proccess, he stared at his arms, turning his hands back and forth, to look at both sides carefully. From what he could feel under his clothes, his entire body was now covered in the scales. Nothing else felt odd or different yet, though the severe lack of balance remained.

As the reality began to sink in on him, Wallace started to realize that the thing he had had a great desire, a passion for, was actually happening. He shivered, running his hands along his bare arms and chest. The scales felt both strange and something like what he had imagined--no, better than he had imagined. The still normal skin of his palms slid across them smoothly, and he found the feel of his own skin a powerful stimulant. Falling back onto the bed, he felt down the rest of himself, finding the places the scales had covered so far. He was already aroused, and felt an erection forming, but when his hands reached his nether region, there was an odd sensation from his now fully erect member. Raising up on an elbow to look down, he shoved down the baggy sweatpants he wore with one hand.

It seemed his member had already been affected. The shape was slightly different, and the texture of the skin was leathery, sporting thick folds and creases. The color of the skin had changed to a deep burgundy red, to match his new scales. Wallace found this unbelievably erotic. It also drove home where the transformation was headed even more than the scales had; because in his specifications for the spellcraft, Wallace had figured if you were going to become a reptile or related, you might as well shoot for the top of the food chain:

A Dragon.

The transformation continued in waves, spaced apart every 20 minutes or so. It was greatly surprising that there was no actual pain. There was, however, a sense of great discomfort and disorientation that was in no way pleasant.

The next major change was a general bulking up of his overall frame: torso, legs, and arms thickened, new layers of muscle shimmering into view with each wave of nausea. He had a feeling that was almost like pressure building inside him; it seemed the transformation was building toward a climax of some kind.

Wallace groaned as the churning in his stomach pushed him to roll over onto his belly. He found movment stiff, as if his body was currently packed with too much. At this point, the first real pain hit him.

The new muscles in his limbs retracted, forcing him into a position on hands and kneeds on the bed. A twisting sensation overcame his fingers and toes and spread slowly upward. As it progressed faster and faster, it began to hurt like all hell--he cried out, but was unable to move. His body had locked itself into the position.

Through blurred vision he could see his hands begin to re-knit themselves as the fingers elongated, the bones stretching out to pull leathery and scaled skin taut, creating a boney yet sleek look. Claws sprouted from the finger tips, and against the bed sheet he could feel his palms become covered over by thick, rubbery pads. The pain increased expoentially as the transformation swept up arms and legs toward the torso. In his hindquarters he could feel bizarre things as his hips bulked up, becoming massive and bird-like, and the proportions of his lower legs changed, resizing themselves to create the impression of a reversed knee joint, with his feet growing wide and long, padded and clawed toes spreading out.

When the change reached his torso, he felt wrenching pain in his gut and lower back, as the spine increased in length and shoved his body apart in both directions. At this point, the pain was too much and Wallace began to black out. As unconciousness rushed in, in addition to the relief from the pain, the last thing he felt was a slithering feeling as a long, muscled tail begain to extrude from his hindquarters.

When his eyes opened, it was dark in the room. The bedroom window was lit with the glow from the streetlights outside. Disoriented, Wallace's attention was drawn to the sound of a car pulling into the driveway. His housemate-- and lover--was home.

A part of his mind was excited by this and pushed to force awareness back. As he tried to move, he was overcome by strange feelings from every part of his body, including some parts that were not there before. He realized he was lying on his side on the bed. His point of view seemed disconnected from his body... but it struck him that this was because his head was now separated from his shoulders by an elongegated, sinuous neck. Struggling to get a grip on his new body, he could see that his arms had become a pair of thick forelegs, with an even larger matching pair at the rear. Wide plate-like scales covered his chest and stomach, leaving tender, scaleless red hide bare at his groin, where his now fully formed draconic penis was situated. Behind that, a long and twisting tail was lying across the bed and hanging over the end.

He rolled onto his belly and he heard a rustling behind himself. He twisted his long neck around to see a pair of leathery, sail-like wings resting at a half-ready position, seemingly of their own accord. He stared at them in wonder, slowly making the mental connections with his new form that allowed him to rustle the wings a bit.

Blinking now, his eyes were drawn to his own face, which was now something he could see a good deal of, thanks to the long muzzle, which ended in a small, beak-like tip. He smiled crazily as his head still swam and everything sank into him.

This was amazing. All of it, better than he had imagined, better than he could have imagined. Remembering the sound of the car, he thought of his lover, and felt overcome by a feeling of arousal so strong it was if a physical fire was burning along his skin.

"Oh... wow..."

Wallace looked around at the bedroom door. Standing in it was Tien--partner, lover, fellow herpetophile. Wallace was overcome by the moment and raised his tail in what felt instinctively an alluring manner, lifting his head and long neck off the bed to smile at Tien with snout half-turned away; he almost felt shy in a way now.

That didn't stop him from rolling around with Tien when the dark haired young man let out a laugh and ran over to pounce him on the bed.

If the fields of magical energy surrounding Wallace had been sentient, they might have been groaning--or doing whatever fields of energy do to express exasperation--right about then. But the fields were only a construct, a complex and sophisticated one, with a structure not unlike a computer program, and even a kind of intelligence. They had to have some, to adapt the transformation sequence to the subject at hand.

The source of the hypothetical groan was the scroll of parchment lying on the kitchen table, and more specifically, the section in fine print that covered the entire lower half of the document. The fine print ticked off the various ways in which the mage was not responsible for unexpected effects of spell interactions, but it also listed a healthy dose of advisories and warnings to prevent those interactions from happening--if a person actually read the fine print, which sadly, few people seemed inclined to do.

Listed right in paragraph 3, item 2, was:

Sexual Interaction During Post Realignment Potentiality Curing

Tien had fitted Wallace up with pieces of the gear they had aquired for just this occasion. The head piece with reigns had fit his reformed, draconic head quite well with a little adjustment. Around his thick and scaly neck went a collar that sported shiny studs, and around his ankles and wrists, leather straps with rings to restrain him in various positions. They had figured a dragon body might be rather strong, and not seriously restrained by such, but Wallace was now a dragon more than willing to play along for the stimulation of it.

Wallace was now lying on his back with both wings spread out and draped over either side of the bed. Tien was as enthusiastically aroused as the new born dragon even without the benefit of magical intoxication. He was clad in the latex scale suit and slowly making his way up the bed, running his hands over his dragon lover, examining every detail lovingly.

Wallace's lover stroked between the dragon's legs at his groin, running a hand across his draconic vent, which was attractively wide and close to the surface. Unable to resist the tremendous sexual attraction of the beautifully formed and muscled red dragon, Tien mounted Wallace there, slipping his own erected member into the dragon's vent.

The dragon groaned as his vent was penetrated. The inside of his passage was soft and sensative, and the feeling was better than anything he had ever experienced in a human form. Tien gripped him by the hips as he lowered himself down fully and began to ride the dragon, his natural juices lubricating the vent and increasing the stimulation.

Swirling around both of them, unseen, the residual spell energies were still active. With the transformation still fresh, it was not entirely fixed; mental and emotional output still could have an easy effect with the remaining energies, and one of the most powerful kinds of emotional output was sexual releae. With the sheer power that orgasm radiated, it was something actually used as a tool by some wizards, but it could also be a major threat to upsetting the effects of spells that had not had time to completely gel and become settled into the shifting sands most people thought of as "reality."

Wallace was lost in the stimulation of Tien's thrusting. His own large dragon memeber was erect and throbbing, threatening to climax of its own accord. In his mind, he found the bondage garb and draconic lust a delicious mixture, creating the feeling of a powerful being restrained, with all emotions finding release through the outlet of sexual stimulation. In addition, Wallace had always been extremely submissive, and the feeling of being something so powerful yet utterly helpless and used at the whim of his lover was almost like a sweet nectar.

The sheer power of draconic lust left him unable to think of anything else. As Tien built toward release inside him, the energies swirling about were drawn ever more tightly around them, their ebb and flow becoming synchronized with each of their emotions and arousal.

The dragon felt his lover's seed begin to flow into him, and the sensation drove him over the edge--his total desire of the moment was for that to continue endlessly, for himself to exist solely to hold his lover inside of him.

The remaining spell energy swirled and flashed, expending the last of itself to realize the desire imposed upon it as best it could.

The dragon could feel Tien's hot fluid pooling inside his vent and his rider relaxing, his climax passed. His own member still felt stiff and aroused, even though his own climax had coincided with Tien. Coming down from the sexual high, Wallace relaxed on the bed under his lover... or tried to. He felt a general stiff feeling. While not uncomfortable, he felt his position resist attempts to relax it and go limp. His head was thrown back with mouth open in a hiss of pleasure, forelegs gathered up in front of him, hind legs curled up and splayed. He also realized that he felt fairly cold, but even the cold was not uncomfortable.

He tried to speak, and felt something that caused a tinge of panic. A puff of air escaped from his long maw, but no words, and he realized he could feel no tongue. In fact, he could feel an end to the passage that started down his throat. It felt like it went no further than just past the back of his mouth.

The crazed thought struck him that he wasn't breathing, and found no discomfort in that.

On top of him, Tien, having come down from his orgasm, was noticing something different as well. Rubbing his hands along the dragon under him, he felt Wallace's hide had taken on a rubbery feeling. The individual scales seemed to have sunk down into the hide, appearing to be a texture pressed into rubber. Everywhere he rubbed, the dragon felt cool to the touch. Between Wallace's legs, a draconic erection stood tall and firm, appearing to be a solid rubber shaft that was mounted seamlessly on his groin.

After an hour or so, Wallace found that he could move again. All traces of the magical disorientation had vanished, but a new disorientation had replaced it: to all appearances, the red dragon had become a walking, talking (though not breathing) rubberized bondage and sex toy. The head harness, collar, and ankle straps had become a part of him, fused to his latex hide without so much as a seam. His large dragon penis seemed permanently erect, and some exploration by Tien had revealed his anus and mouth to be passages that extended down into his form only far enough to permit passage of an organ.

How he could still talk, they had no clue; speech had returned after a few minutes, and was, apparently, magic. Wallace found that while he could move freely, if he relaxed himself his rubber form was drawn back into the beckoning sexual position, as he seemed to be molded into that pose.

What was most disturbing of all was that he had a great deal of trouble actually feeling concerned about any of it. Intellectually he knew that seemed like the expected reaction. Emotionally though, he almost seemed to enjoy the feeling of his latex form, and the thought that he was quite literally built for the pleasure of his lover.

As for Tien, he was more freaked than Wallace, yet not panicked either. The best theory either of them could come up with was that it was due to something about the magic--that the magic had somehow made it so that this form was an integrated part of both their minds now. It seemed plausible enough; Tien had gone over the parchment scroll in the kitchen, and the gist of the fine print was that the transformation spells were grounded in making a fundamental shift in reality at a base level, not merely reforming matter in it. Everything was adjusted as much as possible to make the result of the transformation fit into the environment around it.

Tien had even offered a bit of philosophy about it.

"Hey, I mean, if the magic just brought out what our deepest desires really were... that's what we paid for."

Most fairy tales involving magic either have a happy ending, or if written by the Brothers Grimm, an ending laced with macabre irony and subtle horror. In the case of Wallace and Tien, they came out fortunate, all things considered.

Over a year later, Wallace had actually become something of a celebrity. Hiding a transformation such as his wasn't something that could really be done for too long a time, but when word got around about the bizarre transformation of the most unusual dragon, Wallace and Tien were approached by a wide array of manufacturers of "adult recreational devices". In the contract that had finally been settled on, the latex dragon had become the symbol and spokesbeing for one of the largest makers of bondage equipment in Europe, and the unofficial but sticking title of "The Luv Luv Dragon" was bestowed upon him.

Tien was offered, and he accepted, a position as an assitant editor at a major transnet fetish publication. Over time, he became something of a consulting expert on the (safe) combination of enchantment and love making.

And both Tien and the dragon born of neglect of fine print lived happily, if not ever after, for a quite healthy and reasonable span of time.

Dragon in Fine Print copyright 2001 by KAS.