FSE

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Tane very nearly tripped on a root, fumbling with the overflowing jar he was holding– almost dropping it several times – cursing loudly – and then finally regained his footing.

Thank the goddamn gods, he thought, and found himself whispering it as well. Tane clutched the jar tightly in his arms. He did not want to go through the trouble of getting another one. It'd been a three-day journey to the top of a mountain, through a dense forest full of bugs, and absolutely not a trace of civilization.

Then there was the whole fact that he'd had to masturbate a dragon. There was that too, but compared to the multitude of itching bites and painful scratches on his body, that'd been the easy part. The ancient drake was, so he'd heard, always quite amused when prospective dragonriders came to him. Each one, he asked if they'd really not rather prefer taking an egg, of which his mate laid plenty.

Tane would've. Certainly so. He absolutely would have preferred simply incubating an egg. But the rituals of the dragonriders were very, very particular. And the first of those steps was gathering a jar full of dragon-seed. He thought about the encounter. The enormous male had obligingly laid on his back while Tane went to work on his slit, gradually working him towards an erection, all the while his mate watched like a cat in a bedroom.

That had been awkward. But it'd not felt terrible at all. The dragon's cock had been incredibly warm, hot to the touch, and Tane had found himself afflicted by lust as well as he stroked it, using both hands to squeeze around every ridge and feeling it pulsate against his palms. Pulsate, at first. And then leak slippery preseed all over his hands, swelling just a little further as the dragon's breath quickened.

Tane realized, as he thought back, that he was getting hard again, his own comparatively small shaft tenting the front of his travel-worn pants.

Halfway through, the drake's mate had decided to start encouraging Tane's actions and the dragon's reactions, clearly finding herself more than a little worked up. So she'd leaned closer, and then licked along his cock with some eagerness, wetting both it and the human's hands with her saliva.

Eventually, after what felt like half an hour, he'd felt that telltale throb as the male's cock lurched in his hands, bucked – and spurted rope after rope of potent cum into, and over – the jar that Tane quickly held to his swollen glans. Then, as the human sealed the jar, the dragon had simply grinned at him knowingly. He knew exactly what they'd do with his cum, and given how he happily played along, it probably excited him a fair bit.

“Enjoy your clutch," he and his mate had told him in unison, as he set off on the long journey back, deed done and warm jar of dragon-spunk in his arms.

Once safely out of range of both their eyes and ears, Tane had paused to take care of the pressure growing in his own loins. Dragons tended to have that effect on everyone, and that was part of the next step.

They called it the sowing of dragon's teeth.

Tane had heard that phrase before, elsewhere, and it hadn't meant quite what it meant in this context. What it did mean now, though, was that he'd have the spunk he had collected pumped deep into him, to fertilize him with one of their eggs. One, or several.

Granted, he was male, which meant that they had to force his body to grow a womb, a ready and willing one. This ritual was, as with the one preceding it, one involving dragon-seed. It had a kind of strange transformative power that, in the right conditions, would shape his body towards femininity. Only the inside, though. It was, supposedly, how dragons reproduced in the absence of females, but they had precious little reason to do it in the modern day. Instead, humans carried on that particular tradition.

That was, of course, why the wyrm he had found himself pleasuring was so amused. The strange worshipfulness of humans, as he called it, to the point every dragonrider had to lay their own egg rather than simply hatching one of many laid by the actual dragons. Tane dreaded that part of the rituals, though not without a twinge of curiosity. How would it feel, he wondered, to have his belly swell with a dragon's offspring? How would it feel to lay? He'd heard stories ranging from horribly painful to orgasmic and addictive. One thing he did remember was that the ritual would also raise his body temperature to match that of dragons, which, according to his friends, would leave him feverish and delusional until the changes fully took hold.

“At least it makes the time pass more quickly," they'd told him. It as a hope he held on to.

He finally arrived back at the fortress of the dragonriders, ragged and worn, in the middle of the night, clutching the jar in his arms as he kicked the gates to signal his return. The guard chuckled and rang the bell, and soon enough, the gates swung open.

It was a kind of hazing, as well. All of his older peers quickly made their way to greet him with knowing grins and amused laughter. He must've been quite a sight, his clothes torn and his body half-covered in dragon cum. They'd all been through it, so there was a sympathetic tone to it – but there was also no doubt that he would be the topic of quite a few inspired conversations later.

The elders ushered him into the inner sanctum, taking the jar to examine it. They held it over a candle, watching the effect fire had on the goo it contained. Nothing. Not a simmer, not a boil. That was, supposedly, how they knew it was truly what it was meant to be, and not the seed of some lesser species.

“Yes," the oldest of them spoke, his voice hoarse and ancient. “It is true dragon-seed, eager to bless a human womb with its virility."

The others around them murmured with approval. Some were even currently pregnant, a few caressing their swollen bellies, and others holding theirs as if uncomfortable. It was a decent illustration, Tane figured, of how opinions differed on the rituals.

“But first-“ the eldest continued. “This one must have a womb to bless! Like a true dragonrider!" he spoke, voice gradually rising, from dusty whispering to a triumphant roar Tane hadn't thought he could muster.

“Bring him to the chambers of transformation!"

Tane swallowed, hard. The looks on the faces of the clergy were entirely too eager. He didn't have much of a choice, though. He has to participate in these archaic rituals if he ever wanted to have a dragon to ride. At least he'd only have to do it once – the priests often make it their life's purpose to help the dragons reproduce. Tane couldn't imagine such a life; laying there, day after day, fat with eggs, and wishing for nothing else but to have more.

If it wasn't for the limits of the human body, the skies would've been rather crowded. Then again, the eggs didn't hatch before it was desired. Before they desired it. Dragons didn't entirely follow what other species considered immutable rules of biology.

Tane followed the crowd into the room. Iron bars over an eternally burning firepit; a cool stone walkway leading to an altar in the middle. The heat was overwhelming, but after his long journey through twisted woods, it was strangely comfortable. He was guided onto the slab, belly-down, and stripped naked. For a moment, he thought the stone would scald him, but it didn't. It was just warm enough to slowly heat him up. He was left lying there for what felt like ages while the others milled around the room, many walking directly on the iron bars without flinching. Magic? Either magic, or good shoes.

Soon, Tane was covered in a slick sheen of sweat. He felt like he couldn't quite breathe deeply enough with how warm the air itself was. Around him, the members of the clergy were chanting something, the eldest preparing a blunted syringe. With a strange worshipfulness, he dripped it into the jar Tane had brought, drawing the pearly seed up and into his implement. Half would be used for this; half to impregnate him, or so he had been told.

He didn't resist as they spread his legs wide, the heat making his thoughts feel sluggish. He could actually feel himself swell against the smooth altar. On some level, he wanted to back out. But then he felt the tip of the oiled syringe slip into his bare hole. It was a little warmer than his body. And Tane knew that once the contents had been injected into his body, there was no going back; everyone who got this treatment ended up with a womb. Permanently higher body temperature. Periods of heat and utter need.

Some chose to resist those urges, but none of them seemed happy about it. On the other hand, at least half of those who chose to let themselves be bred seemed to be in bliss, if only for a few moments.

He had watched this ritual done to others a few times. Now, it was his turn.

“Accept the first blessing of dragonkind," the priest murmured.

Tane closed his eyes. He could barely feel the hot metal inside him. The needle was thick, but not so thick as to stretch him. Just enough so to quickly deposit the contents of the syringe into him. He wasn't supposed to say anything, so he didn't, opting to lie on the slab unmoving, signaling his acceptance through inaction rather than words.

The priest depressed the plunger. Tane felt a wet heat spread inside him. A kind of burning wet heat that left him panting. It felt tingly and almost good as the whole syringe was drained into his body, dragon-cum soaking into every nook and cranny within his body and heating it up even more. One of the clergy brought a bottle to his lips and he drank without thinking about it, realizing far too late that it was more of the cum he'd harvested – mixed with some kind of herbs – but he was starting to feel so very thirsty that he couldn't stop himself from happily swallowing as much as he could, in warm, slimy mouthfuls.

There was a kind of cramping in his stomach as the syringe withdrew. He was being reshaped and transformed. Growing a womb suitable for eggs, his ass becoming something more draconic. A cloaca, ready to drink deeply of the next load of seed deposited into him. He was rock hard at that point, weakly grinding against the smooth stone slab, slippery with his own sweat. Thinking was getting harder and harder, and he realized that he was shivering despite the intense heat in the room. He needed more. More heat. Vague, fragmented memories fluttered through his reeling mind. He did remember being told that he'd need to be permanently warm, if not hot, to incubate the offspring of dragons. This would be his state for the next… he didn't know how long.

As if reading his mind, the eldest raised his gnarled hand, and the flames around him flared as the draconic essence did what it'd done to so many males before him. A spiraling sensation that left him dizzy, a gnawing sense of emptiness slowly growing inside him. He felt as if he was floating, a little outside of his body. A hallucination, certainly. But he could see his womb grow. Leaving his stomach a little plumper as it bloomed within him, like a flower of draconic femininity. One that'd decide the next months of his life, and many months after that, if he wasn't careful.

“Yes," one of the priests spoke, a surprisingly soft hand caressing his lower belly. “He is ready. Ready for the second blessing."

So quickly?

They turned him over, gently, a multitude of hands all over his body. Tane blushed fiercely as he realized that his erection was now in plain view for everyone to see, though as he scanned the crowd around him, he realized that almost all of the men were suffering from the same kind of carnal affliction. As if they wanted to watch him be filled with a clutch. Wanted, rather than being dictated by tradition, to see that white goo disappear into his newfound womb and leave his belly swelling.

A fit of dizziness overcame Tane as he watched the priest fill up the syringe again, drawing in the rest of the thick, warm seed. All of it would be going inside him. He felt a strange twinge in his lower belly, a gnawing feeling, perhaps a yearning. A fluttering light anxiety, between homesickness and homecoming. Another dragon-priest was drawing a kind of spiraling shape on him, but the heat made his eyes water. Everything was blurry, and to his overheating mind, it all seemed like a dream. An oddly pleasant, if feverish one. He couldn't quite figure out what order it was all happening in. The symbol drawn on his belly only seemed to make him feel even warmer. Affecting his womb. Making him ovulate? The thought was jarring, but not unwelcome. Suddenly he realized that the syringe was inside him again. He clenched around it. The ritual might've been about hazing, but it was also about love and adoration; welcoming a new breeder into the fold.

An oiled, warm hand stroked his engorged shaft, caressing the glans as it slipped up and down. One of the younger priests. “…should be orgasmic," he heard someone say, and he wanted to buck into that soft palm pumping his manhood, but others were holding his hips down, to make sure that the eldest could get the syringe as deep as possible, through some hidden cervix and into where the seed would take root.

“Spill your weak seed and accept that of the dragons," the onlookers chanted as the hand caressed his twitching, throbbing shaft. Everyone else was still. He could feel his own wetness mingling with his sweat as it splattered over his stomach. And suddenly he realized that he was going to cum. The tension grew, his balls tightening, but it wasn't like his usual climax; rather, it was his whole body, his shaft more like a lightning rod that drew the pleasure into every fiber of his being rather than the focus of it.

His body flexed against the strong hands holding him in place as that sweet, agonizing pressure surged up his shaft. At the moment of that very first throb, the priest pressed down the plunger once again.

Tane groaned as warmth flooded his body at the same time he, himself, erupted, body clenching tightly around the sturdy thing inseminating him. He could practically see it happening, the dragon's potent seed fertilizing him, finding eggs that he'd not even had mere hours ago. He came so hard his balls ached, feasting on the sensation growing in his belly; one of hot, liquid bliss. Every last drop that the drake had given him was soon deposited into his new womb, in time with the ropes of cum spilling onto his stomach.

In that haze of pleasure, there was the realization that if it felt this good, choosing to be a breeder rather than a rider seemed like an understandable choice. Not that Tane ever would. But he couldn't deny the sheer ecstasy that surged through every tingling nerve in his body.

Then, it was over. He slumped back onto the heated altar. The syringe was withdrawn, and he felt something else slip into his still-quivering pucker. A plug, to keep the precious dragon-seed safe and warm inside him, until it'd done its job. There were some words spoken, but Tane wasn't conscious enough to truly register them. He didn't realize that he was drooling, a vacant happy smile on his face, before he'd been carried back into his quarters.

Somewhere deep inside his body, eggs began to grow as the dragon's virile swimmers found their mark. They always did.

---

Life went on as usual after that, at first, other than his fellow riders making fun of him. Some of them were still pregnant with their future mounts and lovingly described every ache that Tane would feel, every kind of hunger, and how bored he'd be laying in bed towards the end of it, unable to do much but read. “Or masturbate," one pointed out. “You'll be pretty horny, too."

At first, he found himself hoping that he hadn't conceived, but those hopes were dashed when he woke up nauseous every morning after a week or so. Doubly so when he noticed that his once-flat belly had a distinct bump, one that kept growing. There was no denying it; he was pregnant. There was a kind of sensuality to it, a warm and glowing pride – though he couldn't figure out if he actually felt that way, or if it was the hormones his presumable ovaries were pumping into his blood. A little bit of both, said his friends.

At first it wasn't much of a bother. Sure, Tane was out of breath a little faster, and the fever gave him constant chills, along with that feeling of nothing being quite real, like he was walking through a dream. With enough focus, though, he could still participate in daily exercises and studies, and even caught a few of his friends admiring his slowly swelling belly. He wasn't sure how to feel about that. It wasn't like he was actually pregnant, was he? He was only acting as an incubator.

After a month, however, he was beginning to feel rather front-heavy, having to walk slowly, both to stop his by now rather sizable belly from jostling around too much, and even more so to avoid falling over. His thoughts were, despite his best efforts, more and more focused on what was best for the eggs, rather than himself. This was only natural, the priests reassured him – the dragon-seed did that to their consorts.

After a month and a half, the skin on his stomach was stretched taut. Each of his friends only carried one egg, of course. And for a time, Tane thought he did too. Yet, he kept growing bigger, burning hotter than his compatriots. It took him the longest time to realize that he'd not be finished yet, and the unrelenting fever didn't make it any easier. He soon found himself feeling slow and sluggish, his conscious thoughts fragmented.

After two months, his legs ached every time he walked or trained. The constant heat made him hallucinate, the patterns on the walls morphing ever so slightly if he stared too long. His brain would adapt eventually; the same reactions that had changed his body prevented anything from taking damage, and so it wasn't too worrying. What was worrying was the constant horniness. Every single morning he'd wake up with his erection tenting the blankets, a patch of aroused wetness coating his cloaca. The unceasing need to be filled. He dreaded the day he couldn't reach his cock anymore.

For now, though, he could. And so, he rubbed himself with wanton abandon, stroking his aching cock to orgasm after orgasm. It only took the edge off, even once had had no more seed left to spill. Those desires were all centered around that twitching cloaca. He'd seen a female dragon's cunt wink once, to display her lustiness, and that felt like what his body was doing right now. The room reeked of sex, his body demanding release, commanding any passing males to mount him. None came, of course – he'd been given his own chambers long before that. That part they had seen coming.

Indeed, soon he was all but bedridden, except for short walks around the fortress, each one leaving him out of breath and bumping his rather pregnant stomach into things. It was at that point that the worries began to seep into his mind. It was supposed to only have been one egg. One! One egg, for two months. He was at month three now, and barely able to walk. Tane rubbed his distended stomach. He could feel quite a few in there. The worst part was that he didn't quite know how to feel about it. On one hand, alarm, worries that he might actually burst. He certainly didn't feel okay. On the other, there that strange, maternal, hormone-fuelled pride to carrying so many eggs.

Then there was the matter of the constant fever leaving his thoughts addled and his dreams twice so. Almost every night, he dreamt of being a dragoness, laying eggs or being filled with them, being used as a breeding… slave? Toy? Just a lusty slut? He didn't entirely know. His very identity was growing blurry, and often he found himself curled up, protectively, like a dragoness with her clutch. Had something gone wrong?

His back itched, and as he reached back, he realized that his skin felt rough. Almost scaley, more so around his lower back, and especially – as his hands wandered further down – his buttocks. He'd been under a few blankets to stop himself from feeling so cold, and it was only now that he threw them off and had a proper look at himself. The sight of his pregnant belly gave him another surge of pride, but when he realized that there were batches of what had to be dragon-scales on him, he felt a kind of anxiety too. This couldn't be right, could it?

He forced himself to get up, feeling twice as heavy as before all this had begun. Tane had to hold his swollen belly as he walked to keep it from jostling too much. The clergy would know what to do, surely. He waddled towards their chambers.

“Strip," one of them croaked when he explained his situation.

Tane struggled to get his clothes off. He wasn't wearing much, but bending over even a little bit to get his pants off wasn't easy, either. One of the priests had to help him as the others studied his body with equal parts seriousness and what Tane could only assume to be lust, given how some of their robes were tenting.

“Scales," the taciturn one who had his hands all over Tane's pregnant form spoke.

“He seems unique blessed by the dragon-seed," another murmured, a hint of jealousy in his voice.

Tane felt the hands of a third caress the curve of his rump. Spreading his cheeks apart as if he was some kind of animal being examined.

“He seems to be transforming. Becoming more like the sacred dragons," that one spoke, finally offering something useful, something factual. Then, suddenly, Tane felt a pair of fingers slip inside him, curling and feeling around. He would've felt incredibly violated if not for how good it felt, his ass- no, his cloaca clenching around the invading digits “He feels like one. Warm. Look, the scales spreading around his sex-" he continued.

He paid no attention to Tane's engorged cock. No, to the clergy, his “sex" was, apparently, only the changed orifice that could be filled with more eggs. His cloaca – god, it felt weird to imagine – and the hidden womb deep inside him.

“Too many," the reticent priest mumbled.

“There is no such thing as too many blessings," the jealous, worshipful one replied.

“We should let it continue. Perhaps he will become a true dragoness, in time," the factual one stated. “Or perhaps, at least, breeding stock, rather than a mere rider."

When he said those last few words, there was definitely a tinge of jealousy in his voice as well. How could he possibly want this?

A finger traced along the side of his bloated stomach. “The scarring," was the second to last thing the quiet priest mentioned. “It's all healing into scales," was the last.

Everyone else paused their conversation for a moment to examine him more closely. Indeed, the stretch-marks around his stomach were growing scaly. Not yet the same kind of vibrant red as the ones around his newfound breeding hole, but on their way. There was no denying it; he was suffering far more changes than were to be expected. Suffering, or blessed with – the priests seemed to disagree, some sounding worried and others downright ecstatic. A fair few, even jealous.

They eventually escorted Tane back to his chambers, with the added promise that he would be treated like royalty, as he was obviously meant for this, born for this, even. They would feed him once he swelled too much to move, take care of him like a dragon would his mate. They would even offer him the carnal relief that he wanted so badly, though even in Tane's dazed state, he could tell that part was at least as much for their benefit as it was for his own. None of them knew exactly what to do, though – while Tane wasn't the first to be so thoroughly fertilized, he was the only one even the eldest could remember. Only fragmentary records existed of others.

One of them had died. The other had changed so much that he had chosen to court a dragon, one that had, in fact, accepted his advances. Sadly, the books didn't mention what had happened after that, but it seemed logical to assume he had eventually undergone a full transformation. Logical? Tane huffed, as he was guided down onto his luxurious silken bed. There was nothing logical about this.

And yet, in his dreams, he was already a dragoness; mighty, heavily gravid, and horny. So very, very horny, the draconic appetites impossible to deny.

One thing he could not deny was his condition had left him far too lusty for his own good. His body was burning hot to the touch, in more ways than one. The next time one of the younger priests came to tend to him, he coaxed him into providing the more carnal kind of relief. It hadn't taken much to tease him into full hardness, and even less to convince him to plunge that beautiful shaft into Tane's needy body. His sheer heat had milked him dry quickly, leaving Tane roaring with lust as he felt that cock throb and buck inside him, his semen like a soothing balm that left him blissfully satisfied, if only for a short time.

Just like a dragoness in heat. Except he was already pregnant.

It took one more month before his time to lay came, and several ruttings by both the clergy and his friends to keep him sane during it. Daily ones. Sometimes many in a row. After all, his body demands dragons, and mere humans could only offer him so much. With enough of them, though, it did work. Usually by the time he was utterly filled to the point that he'd be leaking with their seed for the rest of the day, his increasingly scaly thighs matted with dried cum. At first there had been some leering, but eventually the priests had realized the gravity of their situation. Some had wanted to back out, their own bodies aching from the constant exertion, but the eldest insisted, and they obeyed, gritting their teeth as they plunged once again into Tane's thrumming cloaca. There was no greater honor than servicing someone so thoroughly blessed, at least.

By the end of it, he couldn't move at all, not beyond repositioning himself on his bed to either let someone take care of his lust, or to eat. Every single one of the younger priests had mounted him at least once. And his appetite, not only for sex but food as well, was voracious. Luckily, the priests and riders both found his condition to be both fascinating and worrying enough that neither group hesitated to keep him well-fed.

One of those later nights Tane found himself admiring that distended belly, lovingly so, already half asleep. It took a lot of energy to grow that many eggs, after all. He had a kind of newfound respect for women as a whole, and dragons in particular. In his womb, he could feel at least eight separate eggs, and yet, his body wasn't failing. There had been some worries about it. If he'd be able to stretch enough. But with each centimetre his belly grew beyond its capacity, tough draconic scales grew in, helping to support the added weight. The bizarre biology of dragons would not let such a promising breeder fail, he mused.

At some point, it'd even stopped feeling uncomfortable, and Tane realized that he enjoyed curling up in bed like a dragoness. It had taken a while for his mind to adapt to the higher body temperature, and it had changed, as well. Increasingly, his thoughts were draconic in nature. Greedy, jagged, scaly. Maternal, in a confusing way. Lusty. He had, on some level, always wondered why mighty creatures like the dragons accepted being used as mounts, and it was that experience that taught him the answer: why not? They had precious little to prove. Precious little left of the world to explore but the depths of the human mind. Being ones companion, then, allowed for just that. And perhaps, an opportunity to mate with something exotic.

Then, just on the edge of sleep, he felt a sudden clench inside him, and instinctively knew what it meant. There was no time to call the others. He didn't need to; with a part of his mind having grown just as scaly has his stomach and suddenly dilating cloaca, he knew what to do on pure instinct. Tane twisted his body in just the right way, raising the upper body a little so gravity could help – and finally, after almost twice the time it should've taken, laid his clutch.

He could feel every squeeze and clench as his hidden womb almost reluctantly allowed the first of the eggs to leave. It felt massive inside him, but his body was prepared for it. As much as it could be, at least. He was breathing shallowly as it slipped into his passage, stretching him wide – wider than he'd ever thought was possible. Thankfully, the eggs were soft until laid, as those of reptilian creatures always tended to be. Tane grunted, growled, and then stiffened as some inner contractions forced the egg towards his well-used pucker. None of it took a conscious effort; he only had to let it happen. Suddenly his mind went blank with pleasure as the massive egg squeezed past his prostate. A dribble of cum oozed from his flaccid cock. His mouth hung open.

G-god, oh-

Soundlessly but for his moaning, the first egg plopped out of him, onto the soft bed. He had no time to feel any relief, though, as before he could catch his breath, the contractions started again.

He looked at the first one even as another was slowly being squeezed out. It looked smaller than it felt, and cradling it in his hands, Tane imagine he could just faintly hear a hint of a heartbeat. These, he realized, in that feverish state, were his children. Not just those of some dragon. That feeling was all but indescribable.

He groaned again as his body stretched. Another egg deposited safely on the bed. And then a third. A fourth. A fifth. His stomach sagged as it emptied. Maybe it'd recover eventually, he told himself, between the constant wracking orgasms that this draconic birthing was giving him. By the time the last one popped out of him, he was utterly drained. Every muscle below his waist ached, some even burning with exertion. But he was done, and felt light as a feather. There was the faintest of urges to take to the skies, before he remembered that he wasn't actually a dragon.

Instead, he curled up around his clutch of beautiful, leathery eggs, letting his overheated body keep them warm. They'd not take long to hatch. They were busy little creatures, the whelps, eager to spend as little time as they could inside their eggs.

He stayed at the fortress for months, both to be studied by the others and to raise his offspring, once it hatched. All but one of them followed the typical dragon instincts of leaving their “mother" as soon as possible after hatching, but one – who looked just like a miniature version of his father, with a glimmer of intelligence in his slitted eyes – decided to stay with Tane. The human intelligence wasn't always imparted on them, but every now and then, it did. Those would be the mounts, every bit as smart as their riders.

The priests couldn't quite agree if Tane was blessed or cursed. What they could agree on, though, was that he was to never tell polite society of what had transpired. In exchange, he was free to return at any time, if he wanted to experience it all again. At the time, Tane scoffed at the idea; his body temperature was finally returning to normal (though it would always remain quite a few degrees above that of normal humans) even if the scales never went away. It was something that was only ever mentioned in the most ancient of texts, and never observed in modern times. Most riders, as it turned out, only changed internally.

Finally, though, after many ifs and buts, Tane was allowed to leave. He could, as luck would have it, cover up most of the changes, and that was part of the contract. They couldn't let anyone have evidence of just what kinds of rituals they were performing. Mating with dragons was, after all, quite illegal – at least if there was any law enforcement to see it happen. Plenty of bribes kept them far away, usually – and the fact that some members of society had their own mounts was glossed over as simply pets. And that left the priests and riders free to practice their strange, perverted hobbies.

Tane let out a sigh of relief when he finally saw the skyscrapers appear on the horizon. There was a good reason that the dragon-priests had chosen such a remote location, but by the end of it, even his new, beloved mount was complaining. He'd adapt to city life quickly; dragons always did. There was a certain appeal to never having to hunt for food, and getting to eat prepared meals rather than raw meat. Particularly for the dragons with that spark of intellect that came from the union between human and drake.

All in all, Tane couldn't say if it'd been worth it. He'd struggle to get intimate with humans in the future, perhaps, his transformed body yearning for dragons, and his womb aching to be filled again. Not to mention the fact that his belly was entirely covered in crimson scales. But what he could say was that flying a dragon to work beat the hell out of sitting on the bus. That, and he had a new vacation destination – some part of that feverish need to be full of eggs never fully left him, and at times, it was just a little too much to resist.

In the end, even that wasn't enough. He found himself taking a year off work again, to seek out the ancient dragons once more. Both greeted him, upon his return, with broad, toothy smiles, and the male with a very obvious erection. The female, equally excited by the prospect of her mate breeding a human, was happy to share him, and he was happy to be shared. As for Tane, he was more than happy to partake, offering his body for the pair to enjoy.