One Night Atop The Mountain

She slumbers, as creatures of her nature are want to do.

Across her eyelids, visions play out in an endless, flickering parade of self gratification.

She smiles, even as a deep gurgle resonates around the chamber, magnified and deepened by the interior of the cavern.

A pair of eyes regards her, curiously, wondering if she will awaken. The snoring sound, like the efforts of felling a colossal tree, reassuring the intruder that her efforts had so far gone unnoticed.

Anya clambered spryly, her feet finding traction on the loose scree that led into the lair of the sleeper, her eyes fixed on a single, gently rumbling prize...

*****

There was a softly spoken rumor among the mountain folk, a tale they told late at night in hushed tones, not wild enough to become a legend, nor false enough to be a myth. The story spoke of a cave, deep in the mountains, hidden from sight high above their village and perpetually shrouded in cloud, where a creature slept.

Some spoke of a great shadow that swept from the swirling cloud to torment the village like a flash, snatching up men, women, children, animals, indiscriminate in its choices, uncaring of its victims it fell on them like a furious shade. Some had tried to fight it, the great phantom, their arrows and blades clanging from it's hide uselessly. Every time it appeared, details of it grew ever more outlandish. At first, some had said it was the size of a house, then later a barn, a field, a forest. Every time the wisp threatened, the dimensions grew even more terrible and vast.

They were, though they didn't know it, all correct.

*****

Anya gazed at her prize, unsure of how to proceed. The stories were true, there it was, but she was now terribly, terribly afraid.

She was here, in it's lair, the creature it was said could not be killed by mortal man. A demon, sent to punish them all for the surplus of food their village was able to produce, but found itself too remote to share.

She glanced hesitantly at it, the beast, and drinking in the details she knew in an instant what it was.

A dragon.

And a she.

Thje beast sleeps on as Anya marvels at it, the strangely human quality of her face, the way her mouth flicks up ever so slightly at the corners in a cruel, mirthless smile, no doubt dreaming of the horrific deeds she has accomplished and has yet to achieve.

If only Anya were to be so cruel, to take a hooked blade and run it ear to ear on the creature it could all be over, everything would be healed and time would march on, the story of the phantom forgotten or laughed at.

But Anya cannot move. Her legs are rooted to the ground as she stares, open mouthed at the vast thing that breathes deeply, it's body rising and falling with each puff of air into it's bellow like body.

Such an age of depravity and horror has the creature begot and known. Such a time of fear and death has it sown, and such a harvest has it reaped. Life has been good to the immense thing, the many hunts rich with reward and fulfillment, and in return has left it's mark upon her. Her body, as others have observed and whispered, has grown with each successive raids, the immeasurable age of the dragoness gifting her not with the rings of a tree, but with the inches of her stomach.

The great round swell of it towers over Anya, rising and falling like a mountain unto itself in the near darkness of the cave, the feeble shafts of light that lance down from the tiny holes in the roof like stars, blinding in their brilliance, bouncing and rebounding from the shining, obscene thing that squats atop the lithe form of the dragon.

Her belly is Anya's intended target.

Magpie like, the dragon falls from her mountain like a terrible bird of prey, swooping down to devour anything she can lay her hands on. In the midst of her orgy of violence and gluttony, the scavenger in her flaring up now and then she rises from the wreckage clutching precious and magnificent things. Gold, silver, jewels, gems, nothing is beyond her taloned grasp as she rampages through the mountains, payroll shipments, nobleman's houses, convoys of riches from foreign lands, all are hers for the taking.

She learned young about the sting of man's steel, the thick hide of scales enough to protect her back, but what of her underbelly? As she eats and gluts herself on the poor and unfortunate she seizes, it grows and grows at a matching pace, steadily becoming more and more of a target, as the skin thins becoming more and more vulnerable.

The gold has no use to her as gold, she cannot spend it, only accumulate it. But in the depths of her animal cunning, she has found it's purpose to her. Her belly shines and glitters, covered in a thick, impenetrable layer of pilfered coin, the glutted orb impervious to harm. Swords and arrows and knives and axes clang harmlessly from her magnificent abdomen, falling upon her with as much potential for ruin as an autumnal leaf.

As Anya watches, a hand gently eases over the gilded surface, the swollen circumference grumbling beneath it, digesting the remains of an entire herd of prized beef cattle snatched up in the dead of night.

*****

The dreams grew more vivid, more wondrous, more spectacular as the dragoness slept on, unaware of her observer. Her eyelids flicker,t he eyes beneath them in curious motion as they twist this way and that, echoing the thoughts and desires of her heart that thud thuds a steady underscore to the scene.

In her dreams she is truly vast. Magnificent, immense, regal and beautiful, her body a living monument to her insatiable appetite and indestructible wondrousness. She draws in a deep breath in her sleep, her slumbering thoughts engrossed in a dream of laying waste to an entire kingdom, her monstrous belly crushing armies beneath it's glittering, turgid immensity as she draws in a mighty breath, unleashing a storm of fire that reduces all before her to ash. Her belly in her dream state utterly invincible, she watches impassively and almost mockingly as ballista bolts, catapults and dazzling arcs of magic can do nothing to penetrate the layer upon layer of gold clinging immovably to her magnificent, awe inspiring belly. She pictures herself swallowing whole cities, drinking whole oceans and devouring the mountains themselves, the world and all that is in it trembling in abject fear before her majestic, colossal gut. With every mouthful, with every gulp, with every deep, heaving, mighty breath, her gargantuan belly pulses and swells, larger and larger, her shapely, humanoid body seeming almost insignificant in comparison to the titanic sphere of sparkling flesh that creaks and seethes before her. Her magnificence is unrivaled and undisputed. Whole nations fall before her in surrender at the very sight of her dazzling enormity. She swells with pride, and with the endless offerings brought to her by supplicants desperate to avoid her wrath. The dream is a good one to her, a personal favorite.

*****


She giggles to herself in her sleep, and for a moment the thief hesitates and flinches, caught off guard by the sound. A boot slips atop a pile of coins, the gentle clinking enough to rouse the creature from her slumber.

Her eyes snap wide as she sees the intruder, her body resonant with terrible, insurmountable fury. How dare this insignificant thing steal from her! She rears up, rising to her full height, her tiny humanoid torso perched vestigially atop the vast heaving orb of glittering gold encrusted flesh that nearly fills the chamber, and she watches with almost detached callousness as the pitiful thing raise it's weapon to her glorious, magnificent, indestructible abdomen. Her fury melts away, leaving only mirth in it's wake. She laughs, her deep, cruel laugh shuddering through her over bloated stomach in a series of groans and murmurs as the overtaxed orb responds to the task of not only handling her emotion but her vast appetite also. She arches her back proudly, accentuating the vastness ocean of her bloated, gold adorned belly, presenting it free from hindrance or obstacle to the no doubt useless machinations of the insignificant spec far beneath her harsh majesty, the point of a crossbow quivering with uncertainty and terror behind it.

Let her take her shot, she thinks with a cruel, vain laugh, patting her incredible, regal tummy, her mind still buzzing with the self aggrandizement of her dreams.

It can do no harm.

Anya the thief scrambles backward, feet struggling for purchase atop the horde of riches, pulling herself to her feet with a surge of adrenaline. She sees the dragoness' titanic gut heave and swell before her, and her body goes rigid, cold sweat drenching her form as she fears the worst. Yet no fire comes, and the opportunistic part of her consciousness - the part honed by years of larceny and petty theft - lurches into motion. She raises her bow once more, arm pulling back, muscles taut as she draws the arrow and takes aim at the gargantuan, curved wall of shimmering, quivering flesh that heaves and pulses before her. She grits her teeth as she resolves her aim, then, breathing out sharply, she lets the arrow fly, sending the sharpened shaft hurtling towards it's throbbing target, praying it will be enough

The arrow flies forward, the dragoness does nothing but smile, knowing with utter certainty that the arrow will simply bounce from her metal plated magnificence like a drop of water, not even causing so much as a dislodged coin as it makes its impact. She puffs herself outward as much as possible, skin groaning and creaking as she readies herself for the slight tap she envisions the arrow delivering to her fabulous, regal tummy, the tiny feathered shaft pictured in her mind broken and useless as she imagines adding a tiny bit more bulk to her vast and deserving stomach, the same amount as the thief would probably suffice...

The arrow streaks through the air, hurtling towards her turgid, seething gut. The sharpened point gleams in the dim light, flashing as it draws closer and closer to a large, multi faceted crimson gem embedded in the dragoness' navel. The dragoness cannot resist swelling herself out just a fraction more, face flushing, hands clenching into fists from the sheer strain of it. Yet the pressure and sheer, awe-inspiring girth she achieves cannot help but fill her with pride. Finally, with a sharp clink, the arrow makes contact with her belly, striking the large, blood-red gem with surprising force. She smiles cruelly as she feels the impact, certain that nothing at all will be anything other than how she has pictured it playing out in her mind, her thoughts racing to the delicious morsel of the thief. A mere heartbeat later she feels something amiss. Something is wrong. Her hands quickly press to the surface of her vast, magnificent circumference, head sweeping downward to find the source of her new found worry. She sees first the thief, still petrified as she backs away in terror. She has nowhere to run to. Her eyes catch sight of the broken, splintered arrow lying in fragments on the ground before her beautiful belly, before she feels something. A stabbing, shooting pain, lancing into the precious, invulnerable skin of her wondrous, majestic midriff. She thinks to herself in a split second a question that haunts her... hadn't she put a ruby in her navel?

Though the arrow failed to penetrate the gemstone shield over the dragoness' otherwise vulnerable navel, the impact exerted enough pressure to force the sharpened back of the glittering stone deeper against the bloated reptile's turgid, fragile flesh. This sharpened peak digs painfully into the tender flesh of the dragoness' bellybutton, as if taunting it, testing it, daring it to give way beneath the faceted point. The dragoness huffs and pants as fear and confusion overtake her... her immense, bloated midriff groaning and rumbling at the increase in pressure. She frantically searches for something to dislodge the painful and potentially costly mistake from her tummy, the voice inside her head merely telling her what she has told herself a thousand times. There is no possible, conceivable way this eventuality can have occurred. She must be mistaken in thinking the sharpened tip of the gem is what is scratching perilously and purposefully at the tender, vulnerable flesh of her exposed navel. Her hands frantically seek to sooth the monstrous fecundity, patting and cooing to the overtaxed flesh, she dares not breath out lest the deepening of her distorted bellybutton drive the stone in further. She hears a click and freezes. The thief has reloaded...

The dragoness' eyes widen in horror as she see the thief beginning to draw back on her bow. Panic takes hold of her. Despite her previous arrogance, she understands that the tiny creature is now a palpable threat. She must burn her to ash, and quickly, before she can make a second attack and drive the deadly gem in deeper still. And yet... does she dare take in such a deep and gluttonous breath of air? Her turgid belly throbs and quivers, reminding her of just how near it is to capacity. One more breath might prove too much for even her skin to bear, pushing her thin, fragile flesh too tight, leaving it more vulnerable to the gem's sharp advances. She moans, gripped by fear and indecision. Then she sees the thief take aim. Grimacing, she knows what she must do, and opens her mouth wide. The air within the cavern becomes turbulent as she draws in a mighty breath, the pain in her navel intensifying as her colossal belly bloats larger still, obscuring even more of her voluptuous body.

It is too much, and in her heart, she knows it.

As soon as she begins to breath in, the pain in her navel violently jolts through her, her nerves screaming in terror at the prospect of her unimaginably over pressurized abdomen taking in a single gulp of air, she grits her teeth in a moment of faltering fear. Her eyes close in pain, anger burning through her at the terrible misdeed the little wretch has done to her proud, wondrous belly. She opens her eyes once more, hoping that the breath she has drawn will be enough to destroy her as she looms over the frightened figure just in time to hear the twang of a bowstring as the second arrow flies forth. Her eyes widen.

The arrow sails through the air, straight and true, whistling as it streaks toward it's target. It's needle-fine point gleams and flashes as it zeros in on the immense, quaking orb of the dragoness' belly, hurtling towards the large, red gem that glares like a vengeful eye from the front of the draconic maiden's gargantuan, growling gut. With a loud, 'plink' the arrow strikes, the force of the impact pushing the razor-peak of the crimson gem harder against the gossamer-thin skin of the dragoness' faltering navel. With a gasp of terror, the reptilian matriarch feels the point finally puncture her oh-so-frail skin, breaching the barrier that has held back the unfathomable pressure trapped within her for so long. Her belly shudders violently, a wail escaping her lips as she feels the skin at her navel begin to tear apart...

There is a roar of escaping air, blasting the tiny figure who dared raise a weapon to such a marvel into a wall with bone crushing force. She blacks out instantly, and does not witness what it is she has done. The dragoness lets out a loud, anguished sob as she feels her hard work, her years of bloating herself to vast dimensions and feasting upon the terrified inhabitants of the land begin to undo itself, the skin around her navel splitting and cracking with the escaping pressure, breaking apart in an orgy of horrific, ear splitting sound. She clutches at the now ruinous skin, hoping with all her might that what she feels now is somehow a terrible lie, but it is not to be. With an earth shattering boom, her stomach, majestic, wondrous and thought previously impervious, detonates with the concussive force of a volcano, the detonation bringing the roof of the cavern down on top of the two of them, sealing them and her horde in as the last echoes of her frantic death-cry die away.