Handbook of Erotic Fantasy: Lol Mellon (Patreon)

Fighter lay in a warm puddle of her own bliss. The last of the catnip had nearly worn off. All the toys were successfully pounced upon, even the maddening red dot. Now Ranger’s gentle hands rubbed behind blonde kitty ears, and all was right with the world. 

“Purr,” said Fighter. 

“Shall we go again?” said Ranger. Or at least, the playful tilt of her head seemed to say as much. The pair lay in their wooded bower, utterly spent and deliciously drunk on the feel of one another. 

“I don’t think I can move!” sighed Fighter. She stretched hugely and squirmed upon her back, tail lashing. But then there came a sound. It was a mechanical buzzing, and it was one that Fighter knew all too well. Ranger had finally reached the bottom of her bag of toys, and it seemed there was only one device left.

First to change was the feel in Fighter’s mouth. Even at the height of their lovemaking, the sense of a sandpaper tongue upon sharp-pointed teeth had been a distraction. It was all Fighter could do to keep from testing them, over and over, to see that her fangs were still as sharp. But of a sudden that sensation was gone, and it was like finding shade unlooked for on a hot day. There was no more sandpaper and no more alarming carnivore’s teeth. Quite the opposite in fact. There seemed to be an extra set or two of molars, wide and flat and made for a vegetarian. 

Then came the ears. They slid down the sides of her head, but they did not return to human roundness. If anything they seemed to point yet further: absurd twitchy things like poignards at a 90-degree to her skull. 

“What exactly are you turning me…?” Fighter began to ask. But she trailed off into a startled, “Yipe!” Her tail had begun to curl up and into her spine, and it was very like feeling her lower back slurp a plate of noodles. 

Ranger, for her part, watched these proceedings with great interest. As the cat disappeared, the elf maid emerged: fine-boned and fey. And where before Ranger’s orc-hood had (at long last!) relented, softening into a well-earned respite, she could feel it thickening once more with lust. For her once-human partner now looked up through a shimmering curtain of golden hair. Blue eyes blinked like clear gems set into fine gold, and the half-orc felt her breath catch in her throat. Here at last was a prize few mortals ever know. A creature of deep woods and long, slow time looked back at her: a wide-eyed and wild thing, staring from the depths of some primeval forest. 

“Well that feels fucking weird,” said this ethereal vision. 

“Bzzzzzz,” said the Shears.