Board Thread:What Would You Do?/@comment-31749612-20181122211356/@comment-36855838-20181122232606

"Alright, sir. I don't want any trouble."

I pull out a canteen, I traded a small thermos of waterlogged matango spores for it when a merchant passed by.

"Fill this up, strongest shit you've got."

I set down a bag loaded with carrots and unopened pea pods.

He nods and fills the camteen, handing over an extra bottle.

"Thanks, see you when I've got more stuff!"

I walk outside, heading further up the street toward the florist.

"Give me those seedpods, I'll trade you this whiskey."

She's well used to this behavior, but when I ask for more plant parts thanusual she gives me an odd look.

I quickly make for the next shop, purchasing several herbs I'd usualy take the time to find myself.

There's no time tonight.

I make my way to the local inn, strongarming my way to the kitchen.

I boil the herbs for half an hour.

I pour a small shotglass of whiskey, stuffing everything I've bought into the canteen, boiling down the herbal broth to concentrate it first.

Finally, I've finished it.

"Now for some magic."

I pull out an anti-sabbath packet, typically used only in emergencies to fight reverse aging spells.

"Just a few-"

I pour out four prismatic crystals, carefully dropping them in one at a time.

The moment they dissolve into the alcohol, the stench of the herbs becomes almost overpowering, all of it mixed with the most overwhelming Vanilla.

I hurry home, and as I arrive, I see the devastated remains of my house, the only untouched object being my bed.

An enormous canopy has been constructed above it, and massive piles of pillows surround it.

The Wurm passes by in a blur, smoothing out mud and piling it higher, some kind of heat source baking it dry, inlaid bricks and. Metal spines reinforcing the structure of her homebrew cave.

I sneak into the pepper patch, crushing several of the hottest directly into the canteen.

That should do it.

The crystals float free of the mixture, fully blackened.

I fish them out and dump them to the ground.

Finally ready, I walk towards the nest.

"Honey, I'm home!"

As suddenly as the strike of a cobra, the rushing, swooshing, crashing, thundering noises stop.

The Wurm sits before me, her face flushed red, whether from alcohol or arousal, I've no idea.

"Hello, darling."

I grin, sure to approach slowly.

"I see you've remodeled, but you've left my fields be?"

"Hubby's a farmer, I'm just a worm, a wriggly snake, I don't know gardening skills."

"I appreciate your honesty, thank you for leaving it to me."

I pull up a stool, recognizing it as having belonged to the mayor.

"So what exactly are your plans, dear?"

She tilts her head.

"Plans?-"

"Yes, plans, You must have some!"

Her face scrunched up into the most adorable angry pout.

She coiled up, slumping to the floor.

"Have sex, eat, build the nest, lay eggs, have sex, eat, build the nest, lay eggs, kiss darling, have sex, have mommy and daddy over for thanksgiving, have an orgy, invite the town, teach Darling chess-"

"I know how to play chess, dear-"

"Exchange names with Hubby."

I blush, we hadn't traded names, had we?

I extend my empty left hand.

"Benjamin."

She lunges, striking like a cobra.

I now appreciate how massive she truly is, her humanoid torso is larger than that of an ogre, and the rest of her body is equally engorged.

I feel her teeth on my neck, her tongue flailing about, licking greedily, I feel myself being scatched from the stool, and deposited gently into her meaty coils.

Reflexively, I react as fast as possible, pouring the concoction over her tongue, and shoving it into her throat, and pouring it over her nostrils and eyes.

I've used half the bottle before she could fling me away, screaming and clawing at her face, rending huge gashes in an attempt to alleviate the pain.

The restorawort mixed in is constantly healing her wounds, and her clawing only buries the painful spices beneath her skin.

"What is this feeling, I can't smell, I can't smell you!

"That won't help, you kno-"

"Aoif b gdjdhdtjssdahhhh!"

She continues to writhe on the floor, sometimes flailing and lashing about.

"My eyes! Myyy Eyeesss!"

She repeatedly bites off her tongue, and the bits of flesh are beginning to form a gross little pile around her.

I carefully walk past her and pull out an enchanted bondage chain from under the floorboards.

I throw it onto her, and soon the screaming is stopped by a ball gag.

"Okay, this'll hurt a lot, but it won't last as long as the pain from my special brew."

She whimpers.

I carefully aim my palm, and cast the fire spell, if it kills locusts, it'll burn off this shit.

It does, thoroughly cooking her face in the process.

She lies still, seems the knockout herbs were effective.

I set to work casting the healing spells which have long kept me and my farm from dying out jn the wake of my locust killing spells.

The reddened, burnt, blackened flesh slowly pops off her head, a whole charred face plopping to the floor, her tongue and eyes drip free as new ones grow in, and her skin regrows as if from nothing.

Leaves sprout in place of her scorched off hair, some flowers among them, and her skin turns slightly greenish, like mine.

I gently begin to stretch her out, her tail and body together are as long as my house had been, and stretch halfway across the "cave" she made.

I take the time to go bury the rest of the mixture in the sealed canteen, to fester for a few years and rot away the toxins.

I return to my wife, If I can salvage this marriage, I'd be the world's luckiest man.

Honey, are you alright?

I touch her arm.

She stirs, free of the chain.

She inhales sharply, and then screams, a long thin jet of fire blasting to the roof if the cave.

Honey, please, you're okay now, I burned it out, can you smell me?

She snaps up, turning to face me, slowly encircling me, squeezing me so tight it almost hurts.

I know I'd be dead now if she wanted it.

She leans in, taking a deep whiff of my scent.

"You smell like the plants."

I chuckle.

"I imagine you do, now too, let's start again, with names."

Still worried she might be angry, I try to focus on her lovely features, on getting hard.

"Benjamin."

She licks the tears from beneath my eye, I hadn't noticed.

"Jennifer."

"Yennifer? How do you spell that?"

"How you'd expect, but with a J instead of a Y."

"I'll call you Jenn."

"Okay, Ben."

She pulls in for a kiss, and I gladly respond in kind, eager to please this titanic draconic serpent I call my wife.

A night of chattering, sex, and explanations ensues, and though things get a little rough around the edges, we patch things up nicely.

--- Complete.