Purdur and the Dragon
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A horny hypno story that I have not even reread because if I do I wont post it.
A cat warrior comes to a strange land and encounters a strange beast.
I am Purdur, son of the Great Cat Effiel: The one Who Topples Mountains off of Cliffs.
I have come from the coasts to this inland range far from the lands of my people to seek glory and to help those who homestead among the treacherous and monster filled peaks of these mountains.
An older couple of foxes living in a hut where the snow melt from far above bubbled from a sprint and the mountain dug it's roots deep in the morning sun told me they had been harried by a great beast. It came down from the far side of the mountain where the sun was loath to shine and demanded tithings for living on this land it claimed as it's own. The smaller of the two vixens was as a leaf as she told of the way the beast slipped through the shadows as the sun dipped low and the trees reached long black tendrils of darkness towards their hut from the forest.
The couple had come to this mountain only two summers past. After ridding the area of a nasty infestation of goffers, they plowed the land, set crops, and started digging a well. It was only as this last winter set in that they had finally put the last logs on their home when the beast came to call upon them.
The beast had knocked as though a visiting neighbor. Opening the door and letting in a draft carrying the remnants of recent snowfall, the pair had invited the dark figure in to warm themselves. A traveler dressed in a draping cloak of deep blues and blacks, like a bruise on the night itself with a hood so deep one was more likely to see the bottom of the sea from shore. They had sat quietly, thanked profusely for the kindness, and listened as the vixens talked.
As the sun vanished and night set in true and proper the creature asked them over the steaming tea the women so graciously provided if they would be paying for the land on which they squatted. The women had been aghast and asked them what they spoke of. The beast had asked from them a part of their harvest as it came. Enough to feed the creatures their existance displaced. The larger vixen had had hissed. It was too much. Her mate would starve. The beast had drawn back their hood - neither of the foxes would, or nay could, speak of what they saw there - and told them that far more creatures than they would if they did not comply.
The smaller vixen, still shaking, told me that the next they were aware, their deeper larders were empty and the door was open, showing no footsteps coming or going in the new fallen snow.
I spoke next to several others living on the mountainside. Most near the bottom of the mountain had similar tales of a monstrous beast that either defied or resisted description demanding a tithing. The tales changed in tone as I worked my way up the icy slopes towards the first set of cliffs. T'was quite a trek from each dwelling to another, as my gear was ill suited to the weather as winter deepens in this colder place.
A young stoat told me, in a dreamy voice, that a dark woman had come to him in a dream and returned sometimes to ask favors of him, none of which he recalled the next morning, and none of which he could recall for me then.
A mixed group of lizards and foxes lived furthest up the mountain before the cliffs. Like all who lived here they were kind and welcoming, with tea and stew made of local plants that I graciously excepted in exchange for the grouse and wild birds I had managed to kill in the snow. When I inquired about the monster, they had laughed and one of the lizards chuckled in that slick tongue of theirs that I had best turn back, for none spoke to the beast and left unchanged. When I balked at this they had laughed together and quickly sent me on my way with renewed rations and dry belongings.
The cliffs proved more of a mental challenge than a physical one. While the climb was exhilarating and intense for my body, the whipping wind and the ice that melted and matted my fur as it refroze tugged against my sanity. By the time I reached the top, I swore the very wind whispered a mocking chuckle in my ears each time I stopped to try and rid myself of ice.
I made camp for three days behind a rocky outcropping at the top, protected from the wind. I feared that my rations would not hold out, but I feared I would loose myself to the whirling snow if I tried to carry on without rest. At the end of my stay, I decided to leave my heavier armaments in the space protected by the rocks. With very little knowledge about what the beast before me was, I could not count on it to protect me any more than I could on it saving me from the penetrating cold. My fur was a better at fighting the cold when not slowly freezing against iron.
I made my way up the rest of the mountain in the night, spending my days sheltered from the worst of the wind. From below the cliff line, one can not see the stars for the clouds that shroud the land in the depths of winter. I would walk and watch the stars and find myself far from my intended path with no recollection of leaving it. Indeed, as I traveled further up the slopes there were nights I would find myself laying in a snow drift, feeling utterly warm and pleasant despite the frozen land about me as the stars seemed to swirl overhead. The nights themselves seemed to stretch ever l0nger as well. As the vixens had said it seemed the sun was loath to touch this place - in a more lucid moment I questioned how they had known that - and I found myself loosing track of just how long I wandered in the icy landscape. Sorounded by glittering ice and stars that seemed to stare back at me.
It had been at least a few days since I had last made camp - it must have been, for I surely was going mad with lack of sleep - when I started to ask the stars questions. I pray it was far later than I fear that I heard them answer.
Distantly they whispered at me to look deeper and they would show me my way. I resisted at first. Stars that move so can not be trustworthy. However, I found myself hopelessly lost. I could hardly remember what had brought me here to this place. This place of dizzying light and movement and the pleasant cool touch of winters fingers running through my fur. Somewhere I was deeply terrified that I was lost in my own mind and dying adrift in the snow, but this was tempered by the whispering of the cold breeze. This place was safe. I was almost home.
When the stars offered again to show me the way I begged them to show me the way to my home. It must have been that same night that I came to the caves that cut into the mountain. And in the moment I stepped out from under those stars and out of the bone chilling cold, as my numb paws touched the relative warmth of the cavern floor, I realized I had been mad.
Hopelessly lost, and realizing more and more with each moment that I was deep in the territory of a monster, I took stock of what was left of me. My armor had been left by the cliffs, and somewhere between there and here - gods how many days had it been since I scaled the cliffs? - I had lost my tent and most of my provisions. All that remained was a small bit of the lizard's bread, my sword, and the clothes on my back.
I realized my tunic was rapidly growing too damp to be safe. Somehow I seemed to have avoided any sort of serious effects of being out in the elements so long. The stars whispered, more distant now that I was in the cave, that Maestro would never let her toys break so easily, but I shook of that deranged thought. I shucked the cloth to the ground and slowly moved deeper into the cave. Step by step I realized ahead of me, around several bends and through more than a few places where the cave became to tight I had to crawl, there was light. Light and warmth and the almost imperceptible whispering of the stars that I needed to go there.
The deeper caves were not as sparkling as the stars and snow, but the pulsing light ahead of me gave the rocks a glittery red hue that seeped into a color reminiscent of the sun rise over the ocean before a storm…. somehow filled with whirling stars.
As I came into the final room - For even if the caverns ran deeper, and I was sure they did - the noise of the stars quieted fully and a month of memory slammed into me like a physical blow. I whirled about to face the dragon, who stood as she had the last five times I had been here. Leaned against the cavern wall, her scales appearing red in the glow that I now realized seemed to come from all about us. She barred her fangs in a grin and crossed her arms, sizing me up. Again.
“How many times has this been? Are you sure there isn't something here you want, Handsome?”
Something in my brain snapped with that word and I was only distantly aware of my sword clattering to the ground beside me. Or of my knees buckling to gaze slack jawed up at her as she approached.
“See, when you react like that, I'll start to get ideas,” She gazed down at me and something in the back of my mind screamed at me so look away. To press my paws over my ears and cover my face with my tail and back slowly out of the cave. To flee down the mountain as fast as I could run and never dare to look up at the stars again. I blinked once. Twice. My paw twitched and my ear flicked and I pulled my gaze towards my sword.
Her shadow fell over me like a physical thing and I thought no more of it. Frozen staring at my glade glinting in the red light, reflecting the distorted shadow beast before me.
“Not a true dragon” my last real concious thought as something grasped my chin and pulled my gaze back to her. Her eyes were inky pools that swirled with the whispering stars. They seemed to resist the red glow about us and I felt myself falling into them. Splashing into the great sea in the sky and gasping great lungfuls of a cloying viscus darkness that filled me and sank into my skin.
She chuckled, “So easy, kitty. How did you even get all the way up here this time?” I opened my mouth to answer only for it to be flooded by more of that darkness.
Red glinted off the shadows and a fleeting thought asked if the red light penetrated all the way to the stars before her hand touched my ears in a gentle caress. I moaned around the darkness working into my throat as her sharp claws toyed with my ears and tangled in my fur. Like the wind but warm and pleasant rather than cold. A desperate need to be coated in that warmth, wrapped in it and consumed by it, overcame me and I moaned about the thing in my throat again. I could no longer find her eyes - unsure if I was even able to find them - in the blinding darkness and whirling stars that clouded my vision.
She continued to pet me and I realized, with no real urgency or fear, that the darkness that seemed to not only spill from her eyes but from her, had started to melt into my skin. Seeping into my being. It was warm and wonderful and as something touched my core I could not help but close my eyes. Still, behind my eyelids I was sorounded by the stars as they danced in that hypnotic pattern.
“My handsome boy. Be careful,” her voice was like a silk cloth brushing down my fur and gently dragging me deeper into that viscous sky, “If you come back again I may not let you leave.”
With a scream, I felt something in me break. It could have been an orgasm, it could have been my mind finally giving in fully and shattering. My vision cleared and I sat up with a jolt.
I was not in a cave far above the valley, I was laying in a cot by the fire as the two vixens chittered and worked on canning food to fill their stores.
The larger sat by me, offering me her arm to lean against, which I took gratefully. The rush of sensation, of the mild draft from the walls and the smells of the canned vegetables and the scratchy feeling of the cot and the sound of my own pounding heart threatened to overwhelm me. When I tried to toss off the blankets, she pinned my arms and told me I had been found out in the snow not far from the shack. I must have been lost in the blizzard and never made it to the cliffs at all. I opened my mouth to protest. That I had left my good armor and lost my sword and pack on that mountain, when I saw them laid out and drying by the fire.
As the moments ticked on, I was more and more sure that whatever I experienced was a hallucination. And as the seconds drew on and the memories of sinking into the sky and the sound of her voice slipped away, I wondered if I had made it to the cliffs at all.
I resolved to try again the next day. The vixens convinced me to wait three at least to dry and warm fully.
And if at night the stars still whisper to me, well that merely means I am in the right direction of destiny.