This had to be a joke. An April Fool’s joke.

     “I don’t know why we’re doing this.”

     “You know why,” Jarnathan answered, taking a sip from his drink. Every April 1st, people gathered to celebrate the end of Macro March. The start of a whole year of levity, before the terror started all over again.

     “I know,” the kobold pouted, “but did we really had to invite him?” Urac said, pointing to the corner of the room where a black dragon hollered in laughter, a small entourage of people surrounding him.

     “It’s not his fault.”

     Not his fault. Every March, random people get chosen to become giants. Sure, some of them took advantage of the situation to create as much mayhem as possible, but for the most part, you could argue that the damage they caused was completely unintentional. Versel? He was a dragon, and dragons grew every single March, every single year. He knew what was going to happen, and he knew what he was going to do when it happened.

     You could bet your ass that, yes, Urac had the right to blame him for anything that he had done this past month!

     “Behave.”

     And now, he was being treated like a dog.

     Sensing his subordinate’s anger, the aarakocra enveloped the kobold under his wing and pulled him closer. “There, there,” he said as he petted Urac’s head. Once the kobold’s breathing started to slow down, Jarnathan released him. The kobold was still pouting but at least seemed to not be as angry. “Tell you what, how about if tomorrow you, me, and Versel have a nice chat to work out the kinks. Okay?”

     “I guess—”

     “Splendid,” Jarnathan shouted, grabbing a couple drinks from a nearby table for him and the kobold. Hading Urac his drink, and giving him one last pat on the back, the aarakocra left to rejoin the party.

     Urac took a deep breath. He would have liked to let it all go, to forget everything that had happened, but he couldn’t. He looked over at Versel, the dragon was still howling in laughter at something or other. It made his blood boil. If only there was something he could do.

     And that’s when he noticed a small cluster of Sylvan Stones on a Mycoid coworker’s desk…

     - - -

     Versel was atop one of the desks, wings and arms on full display. He raised one foot dramatically.

     “And then, BOOM!” He stomped hard. “The office building collapsed right under.”

     His circle of sycophants oohed and awed. Were they just paying lip service? Or were they really impressed by the dragon’s antics? Maybe they hoped that by licking his feet, they would be spared next year? Or maybe they hoped to enact some of those actions one day, when, and if, fortune decreed that they would be among the Macros of March?

     Urac did not know, and to be honest, he didn’t care. All he cared about was Versel.

     He approached the dragon and tugged at the sleeve of his shirt. Versel turned around, his face souring as he looked at the tiny kobold standing right next to him.

     “Oh, I… Silit, right?”

     The kobold struggled to restrain himself. Slave in draconic. “It’s Urac.”

     “Oh, right, right.” Versel rolled his eyes. “Anyway, don’t need a new drink right now and—"

     “Can we talk?”

     “Sure, what do you want to talk about?”

     Urac looked at the dragon’s retinue and then at him. This would not do. “Alone?”

     You could tell by the look on the dragon’s face that he did not want to leave, but just a glance at the kobold’s furrow made him reconsider and he agreed. The kobold let him out through the emergency exit to what was usually known as the smoking area. There was a nearby couple, so the pair waited for them to leave before taking a seat.

     Once the door firmly shut behind them, Versel asked, “So, what was it you wanted to talk about?”

     “You destroyed my house.”

     “Oh…”

     It had only been a couple weeks, but Urac remembered it like it had been yesterday. He was minding his own business when the alarm on his flat started to flare up. Through the window, he could see the dragon approaching his building. He was erect. Versel put one hand on the top of the building, and started to stroke himself, the vibrations causing the windows in the building to shatter. With one last thrust, the building’s walls were painted in white before the force of the vent had caused the building to collapse on itself. It had been a miracle that the kobold had gotten out unscathed. His home and possessions, though? All lost thanks to the dragon’s lust.

     Since then, he had stayed at one of the many refugee camps throughout the city. Completely at the mercy of any giant that decided to come in search of a toy or a midnight snack. It had been a grueling experience, and now,

     Versel took a sip from his drink before putting down the plastic cup on the table. “Well, sorry about that, I guess?”

     A half-baked apology that the kobold did not care about. Instead, he looked at the dragon’s cup. It was almost empty, just the opportunity he had been looking for.

     “Mind if I get you another drink?”

     The dragon glanced at the plastic cup and then winked at the kobold. “Thanks, Silit, I owe you one.”

     The kobold forced a smile, this was not the moment to correct the dragon. He grabbed Versel’s drink and walked over to a nearby table. Urac smelled the cup. Suzailian Sweet, typical. He looked for a similar drink for the dragon and grabbed a Firewine for himself. Then, with the dexterity he and his race were known for, he pulled a small vial with a blue liquid from inside his coat, pouring its contents over the dragon’s drink. Urac grabbed both cups and turned around, only to be shocked at seeing the dragon standing right behind him.

     “Thanks,” the dragon said grabbing one of the cups. He took a sip, scrounging his face before putting it back down on the table.

     Urac smiled. His plan had worked.

     “Well, if that was all, I think I need to get going.”

     “Not so fast,” the kobold said, grabbing the dragon’s wrist tight.

     Versel looked at him puzzled, no one—much less a kobold—had ever treated him that way. He pulled back his arm sharply, freeing himself from the kobold’s grasp. “And why not?”

     “Do you recognize this?” The kobold took out the small vial inside his coat. The dragon squinted his eyes, but Urac could tell that Versel was completely in the dark. “Oil of diminution, and if you don’t want things to end up bad for you, I suggest that you better start listening.”

     Versel’s eyes went wide open, and Urac grinned as he put back the vial inside his coat. He had the dragon right where he wanted him. He took one sip from his drink when… wait, why was it so sweet? The kobold smelled his cup, and then quickly swiped the dragon’s.

     Firewine. Which meant…

     Urac looked at the dragon, and before he knew it, he was shrinking. Rapidly. In only a few seconds, the kobold was now barely higher than the dragon’s ankle.

     Versel cocked his head, but then heard as the door’s latch unlocked. He swiftly kicked the kobold’s clothes underneath the table, and then looked for the small guy. He was still standing in place, so he stepped forward, onto the kobold, pinning him down.

     “Oh, Versel,” it was Jarnathan. The aarakocra took a quick look around before settling his gaze on the dragon. “Have you seen Urac? A few people told me that he came here with you.”

     “Was that the kobold?” The dragon said, putting extra weight on his foot and curling his toes to better hide his captive. “No, sorry, he went back soon after.”

     “Is that so? Well, if you see him, let me know. Urac can sometimes get underfoot.”

     The kobold twitched underneath the dragon’s sole, and Versel smiled. “Sure will, boss. Enjoy the rest of the party.”

     The aarakocra disappeared back inside, and after ensuring they were completely alone, Versel crouched and grabbed hold of the kobold and his clothes. He hurried to the parking lot and opened his car, tossing Ulrac and his stuff on the passenger’s seat before speeding his way back to his apartment.

     - - -

     Half an hour later, Versel opened the door to his place. He dropped the kobold’s clothes to the ground and him on his living room table. Urac looked at his host. The dragon was leaning in, his face full of malice.

     And curiosity.

     “So, this is it? You were planning to shrink me? Teach me a lesson?”

     The kobold hesitated before nodding.

     “Pathethic.”

     It was, wasn’t it? But that was not the whole plan. Urac debated how bad an idea it would be to tell him all that he had planned for the night.

     “So, how long does it last?” Versel asked.  With Micro May still a few ways off, he would need to ensure his new toy lasted. If he remembered correctly, the runt still had some of the oil with him, but would it be enough to last until then?

     Urac hesitated to answer. He was sure he was going to regret this, but his best option to survive was to tell the truth. The whole truth. “It’s… permanent.” The dragon arched an eyebrow, and the kobold quickly added. “Well, sorta. It’ll go away when…”

     “When…?”

     Urac sighed. “When I die.”

     This really caught the dragon’s attention. Urac motioned for him to look inside his clothes, and Versel did, finding a different vial. This one had a yellow liquid inside.

     “It’s a Reformation Potion. If… after I die, it’ll return me back to normal.” The plan had been to make the dragon suffer for all that he had done and then kill him. Since he’d reform, no real harm would be done, and he’d have learned his lesson.

     Or so the kobold had thought.

     Versel swished the vial from side to side, his pensive look soon changing into a mischievous grin. “And you didn’t drink this potion, right? Just the oil?”

     Urac swallowed hard and shook his head. He had meant to tease the dragon with it back in the party. Or if he probed to be too much of a jerk, maybe even deny it and keep him as a pet. He’d get him a collar, Silit as his tag. Teach him how generations of kobold’s felt when it came to his ancestors…

     Versel guffawed; this was proving to be more interesting than he at first thought. “Do you want it?”

     Urac nodded. Versel popped the vial open, and the little kobold’s eyes lit up as the dragon moved the vial closer. However, at the last moment, instead of giving it to the kobold to drink, the dragon poured it over his right foot.

     “Well, go ahead. Drink to your heart’s content!”

     Urac sighed. A small puddle formed under the dragon’s foot, slowly making its way towards him, but he was sure that it would not be enough. He had only one choice, so he moved over to the dragon’s sole and kneeled in front of it. Swallowing his pride, he cupped his hands and drank from the puddle forming around the dragon’s heel. Then the sole lashed at him, making the kobold tumble down.

     “Uh-uh. Straight from the source, or not at all.”

     Urac looked at Versel. The dragon was leaning against the couch with arms crossed over. He was smiling. With no other option, the kobold dragged his way over to the towering sole in front of him. He moved his head closer, the heat radiating from the appendage washing over his body. He closed his eyes and gave the foot one long, deep lick.

     The taste was foul.

     He licked again. The dragon’s scales reminded him of sandpaper.

     He licked a third time. This time, it tasted only like foot. And sweat. He had to hurry and put in more of an effort. The potion was dripping off, and he was sure the dragon would not allow him to drink from the puddle again.

     Urac moved towards the side of the foot when it slid down. The dragon’s toes now in reach.

     “You’re welcome.”

     The kobold put one hand on the balls of the foot, and moved closer to lick it.

     “Between the toes.”

     Urac looked at the dragon. He couldn’t be serious? But he was, and Versel was smiling, knowing full well that the little kobold had no other choice but to fulfill his every command. Thus, Urac moved closer to the toes, and put his head in between the digits.

     Versel closed his eyes. “Yeah, that’s the spot.” And from then on, he limited himself to just enjoy the kobold’s ministrations…

     An hour or so passed. The only liquids on the dragon’s foot now being just sweat and the kobold’s saliva, so Urac was now stuck on table-cleaning duty, lapping at it while trying to scrap as much of the potion as he could. He hoped that he had ingested enough of it to survive, but continued to look for more.

     A zipper opened up.

     Urac looked at the dragon; he was fishing his cock out of his pants. Versel started to stroke it, letting out a single moan, but then opened his eyes. His eyes smiled, remembering the tiny guest at his feet.

     Surely, he didn’t mean to—

     “Well, little kobold, I think it’s time you repaid my generosity. Now, get over here.” Versel leaned down to grab Urac. The kobold tried to escape, but he could only go so far while trapped atop the dragon’s table. So, without much effort, the dragon grabbed him, but just as he was pulling him in, Urac bit the dragon’s hand. Versel shouted and let go of the kobold.

     Urac closed his eyes. At this height, the fall would probably kill him, and he’d finally reform.

     …and it might have, had he not fallen on the dragon’s pants, gently rolling his way down to the dragon’s foot, and then landing on the soft carpet below.

     The kobold tried to get up but soon found himself pinned under the dragon’s foot. Only his head was spared, being able to peek from in between the dragon’s toes. “Just kill me already,” the kobold shouted. Versel leaned down, the pressure on his foot increasing more and more, until…

     “No,” the dragon said, taking his foot off and reclining back on the couch. “That’s what you want, right? Die and then reform. Well, I’m not going to do so.”

     Urac was taken aback. “Wh-what do you mean?”

     “You see, my little kobold,” Versel lifted the kobold until they were eye to eye. “The one who has experience here dealing with small people is me, not you. Don’t get me wrong, I could easily kill you anytime I wanted, but you know what? My little kobold, there are worse things than death out there.

     He used one hand to pinch the kobold’s arm, harder and harder. Urac got on his knees from the pain, afraid that the dragon was going to break it, but he relented. “I could make you suffer in so many ways and still have you not die. Forever, if I wanted, you know.” The dragon grinned. “Or until your potion ran out. How long will it last anyway? A month? And after that, you won’t want to die anymore. Not that that’s your choice anyway.”

     Urac rubbed the red mark over his arm. Surely, he wouldn’t… No, of course he would. This was just Macro March all over again for both of them, and Versel was drunk on power.

     “I could also let you go, you know. Sure, some would think that a small guy like you would meet his end soon enough out in the wild. And they might be right, eaten by a cockroach, or from hunger and thirst if you’re lucky. I’m sure then you would have preferred then that it had been me.

     “Or who knows, maybe someone else could find you? Someone even crueler than me? Or someone that would keep you, care for you? A cute and exotic little pet, right until the day you die. Forever barred from ever returning to your regular size.” Versel lowered the kobold back onto the carpet, “So, what’s it going to be, my little kobold? Will you take my offer, or just squeeze your way out under the door?”

     Urac hated to admit it, but the dragon was right. His best odds lay with him, and he alone. Urac took a deep breath before finally answering, “I’ll take your offer.”

     “Beg.” The dragon rested his chin on his hand and smiled. “Beg me to end your life, and I might consider it.”

     Urac swallowed his pride and knelt down. “Oh, please, great and powerful Versel. Please, end me.” Seeing the dragon’s toes nearby, the kobold leaned over and planted a kiss on one of the claws. “I know I’m not worth it, but you would be doing me an incredible favor.”

     “Are you sure of that, my dear Silit?”

     “It’s Ur—” Versel’s foot landed right on top of Urac, crushing his stomach and stopping him from breathing properly. Urac was sure that the dragon could crush his ribcage if he wanted, end him right then and there, but he wouldn’t. For Versel, this was nothing more than a game, and Urac nothing more than his toy. “Silit. My name’s Silit, my Pliso.” The pressure on his stomach lessened, allowing the kobold to breathe normally again. “And, yes, I am sure.”

     “I’m glad that’s settled.” Verseld leaned down and grabbed the kobold, lifting him up. “But you see, before I fulfill your wish, I need something from you in exchange…”

     Versel dropped Urac on the seat of the couch. No words were needed, both of them knew exactly what it was that the dragon demanded. A few pats on the back pushing him in, and the kobold hurried his way to the dragon’s crotch, but he was too late. The dragon was already receding. Urac would need to go further in.

     Crossing past the zipper and into the underwear’s pouch, the kobold lounged to try to grab the tip of the dragon’s cock which was the only thing still outside. However, his fingers only lightly grazed it before it went right back in. Urac covered his snout with one hand, while using the other to part the lips of the cloaca apart, and headed right in.  

     He continued through the damp and sticky walls, going deeper and deeper, until he reached the dragon’s base. The flesh walls closed right behind him. Getting the dragon’s cock out was going to be more difficult than he thought. Urac approached the cock, its head smearing pre over him, and grabbed at the barbs at its sides. He then pulled with all his strength. Then, he stopped to catch his breath before pulling again.

     One. Two. One. Two.

     He pulled and repulled, and the dragon started to respond. In a way, Urac realized, it was almost as if he had been stroking the dragon’s cock. With just a few more tugs, the cock jabbed him in the chest as it started to make its way out, but Urac could not falter. Must not falter. He knew that if he could not manage to get it out, Versel would have no issue keeping him in there until he did. Maybe even for longer.

     One. Two. One. Two.

     Light was shining right behind him.

     A one and a two, a one and a two…

     At last, the cock left its enclosure, flopping in its full length onto the couch. Urac barely managed to avoid getting crushed under it. He was tired, but he knew his task was far from over.

     After all, he was there not to make the dragon get hard, but to make him cum.

     Mustering as much strength as he could, Urac climbed the barbed member and walked along its length until he reached the head. Looking at him, the slit drooled thick and musky rivers of precum. Urac held his breath and knelt, using his hands to prod the slit and rub the sticky liquid around the head. The cock twitched, almost making Urac fall, as the dragon started to moan.

     It was going well; however, the longer he took spreading the liquid around, the more the dragon got used to the feeling. The cock started to recede again, and Urac knew he didn’t have enough energy to take it out again nor he felt like being the dragon’s living vibrator. The kobold took a deep breath, and dived right in, pressing his head right against the slit.

     He kissed.

     He licked.

     He digged right in.

     And then, just as he was about to pass out, the cock finally gave in. A yellowish-white liquid flooded the raptor, glueing him to the surface below.

     Versel lifted the barely conscious kobold. “You did well, my little Silit.” He wanted to keep him, make him his, but alas, he had given his word, and a dragon’s word was binding. He dangled the kobold high above his head as he leaned back. “And now, time for your reward…”

     The semen-covered kobold dropped unceremoniously into the cavernous mouth waiting for him below, the dragon swallowing him whole and using this finger to trace the bulge along his throat. Once it was gone, he cleaned the couch and went out to bed. Meanwhile, be it due to the lack of energy or air, Urac slowly drifted out to sleep as well…

     - - -

     Urac woke up. Everything felt hot and damp, the air having a permeating hint of the dragon’s musk. Was he still in Versel’s stomach? Or what if the dragon had put him inside his cloaca again? No, it was not possible, he should have reformed by now. Urac tried to move around, but even though he could stretch in one direction or another, he remained still. He could not feel his arms or legs, and it was so dark, just where—

     Versel hit the alarm’s snooze button. He stretched his back and arms before curling back into a ball. Why did they have to go to work on April 2nd? Oh well. He scratched his right foot, it was itchy, likely an allergic reaction to the kobold’s potion. Just thinking about the little guy made his cock peek out. Versel would miss him; he finally understood why other dragons liked to keep a few of them around.

     He scratched the balls of his foot and his sole again before looking at the clock. With a groan, he got out of bed, thoughts of the kobold still fresh on his mind. What was his name? Silit? Well, whatever. Versel wondered if the little guy’s theory was right? And if so, he should probably be back, safe and sound, sleeping on his bed.

     Probably.

     Urac felt the dragon prod him again, his own thoughts no longer being pushed back. And were it not the huge pressure he soon felt, or the coldness of the bathroom’s tiles, he had a good idea of what had happened. When the dragon poured the potion over his foot, that had made him the host, or maybe it was the mix of the kobold’s DNA with however much he had ingested while licking the dragon’s foot that had changed his composition. Regardless, this had somehow changed the way the potion reacted, and he was now a part of the dragon.

     And not just any part, he had merged with the dragon’s foot!

     Versel turned off the shower, a few strokes later, he came all over himself. He gave his feet a quick rinse and smiled. Maybe he could get Silit to lick them clean back at the office. And were he still not back, well, as they say, there are always more kobolds in the mine. He grabbed his keys and started his car, completely unaware of the new small lump on the balls of his right sole.

     Nothing that wouldn’t smooth out in a couple weeks…