FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Another ancient story, reuploaded. I use another name now. This one.... I doubt I will finish, unless people really like it.

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Demimonde

Chapter One "Without the veil"

His visage in the reflection wore sundered dreams, which clung to him like maggots on a back alley corpse. He'd been there too, in those alleys and backstreets. It's practically where he was born. Now he worked here, as an inofficial rent boy at an illegal night club in the slum. The mirror was dirty, but then again, so was he. The bottles on the shelves were all nearly emptied by the drunken patrons, and the obese bartender was sweaty from the exhaustion of keeping up with serving drinks. Outside, the muffled rhytm of techno music from subwoofers in cars passing by. Mechanical mating calls for human targets.

John looked at one of the most disappointing things he knew; his own body. To him; it stood out like a dark patch on a grass field in this place. He wore a black leather vest and black leather pants. Little else. It showed of his muscular abs, and together with his long, and similarly black hair, he looked more or less like a confused heavy metal fan who had found his way to the wrong kind of pub. Still he was considered handsome by most. Men aswell as women. He was used to both, sexually. His heart wasn't in it, but he was still strangely able to satisfy people quite well. Sex had never been a big deal for him. As for love, he felt sure it was just an illusion invented to dull the senses of disconnection that most people seemed to suffer from once they started pondering their life in a rootless existence. At least, that's what it was to him.

That man again, John thought to himself. He had seen the familiar face of an elusive repeat customer at the far end of the club. He always sat at the same table, and tonight he was there again. John looked at him sip his way-too-expensive whisky, an aura of mystique trickling around him. He, too, stood out in this place. But was he a dark or bright patch? John could not decide. He had seen the man many times before, and he seemed interested in John, but he had never spoken with him. He always just sat there, observing. Waiting. In an expensive Armani suit. Or maybe it was Hugo Boss. Hard to tell these days. Tonight, John finally decided to walk up to the man. Every step he took in the man's direction felt heavier than the previous one, and the smiling face of the potential customer was every bit as exciting as it was exotic. Or is it exotic? Something about this man made John feel familiar rather than estranged. A presence within the presence. John shook his feelings aside and approached the man with renewed vigor, but made a quick turn to the side, walking towards the back doors of the place. The man at the table traced him with his eyes, and as John stopped to nod his head at the back door, the man rose to follow. Wordlessly, the man followed John through a corridor with flickering lights and water dripping through weighed down, saggy ceiling panels; their dark, stained colors breathing a muted song of despair as the couple walked the narrow path. It had seen much depravity, and so had John. The door opened almost by itself, hinges long since surrendered from repeated opening and shutting. The room was shoddy, and bathed in crummy light. It was almost as if fat cream had been poured into the luminance of the cheap uplight that borrowed visibility to the unpleasant walls and broken down furniture. John lead the man into the room and was anxious, for the first time in maybe five years. He had sold his body so many times now, it was a mystery to him why this man would affect him like this.

The man sat down on the foot side of the bed. There was an unpleasant squeak as the weight settled in. He looked around the room with a smirk, and then turned his attention to John. Somehow, he didn't seem the least interested in having sex. John still played the game, though. He had seen it all. Insecure people turning to sadistic maniacs. Boring businessmen suddenly swelling with overwhelming desires. He had seen it all. But this one? There was something almost inhuman about him. Not his looks, he certainly looked normal enough, but something about his presence made no sense. It was a puzzle to John. Yet somehow, that looming feeling that he had a strange understanding, a kinship of sorts with this fellow. Perhaps he had lived a tough life too, once? Street kids recognizing each other through the lenses of modern illusions, titles and clothes? Stranger things have happened.

John walked to the desk at the far end of the room, to turn on the low budget cd player. The ancient, miniature loudspeakers collecting dust on the table suddenly came to life, and crackled an upbeat techno song through its dusty filters. The bass section of the loudspeakers were so small that it made the soundscape appear insignicant and hollow, but it made little difference to the atmosphere anyway; it was all run-down as hell. John began to move to the music, dancing his way seductively to the man on the bed. Slowly, he began to make suggestive moves, gradually revealing more skin under his vest.

"What's your pleasure, sir?", John whispered with a suave voice. An act he knew so well, it nearly dripped from his fingertips.

"Why, you of course...", replied the odd man. Classic beauty on his face. He was handsome, all right. A warm, powerful voice. It had a tint of british mysticism about it, too; sounding sort of posh, and it was certainly very rich and alluring. Not entirely unusual with british people in New York, but he sounded so experienced and wise, despite his youthful look. Somehow, he made John feel bashful, unsure of himself.

"You like what you see?"

John started to move slightly more intensely to the accompanying music, and his vest slid off. It landed with a leathery impact, on the floor. He started to massage his own torso, hoping that his muscles had some effect on the man before him. Nothing registered in the eyes. John glanced at the crotch, but the neatly pressed armani pants showed no sign of erection. The man smiled, though. A bizarre smile.

"I would, except so far I haven't seen you"

"What do you mean?"

"This isn't you"

John felt himself stiffening up. He began to suspect that the man was about to preach or something equally dry. This attitude might explain his apparent lack of interest in John. He had to have been a moralist, about to spit his poison.

"Well, you don't know me, do you?"

"Do you?"

"Look, is this about me or is it something else? Are you a cop?"

"I am not a police officer, no."

"So you're just here to judge me, then?"

"Absolutely not."

"So why did you say that this isn't me? You got a problem or something?"

"No. No problems. You need not be hostile towards me. I paid you, didn't I?"

"Oh, it's your kick, eh? Insult games? Just wish you would have told me earlier."

"It's not my kick. I just want to talk with you"

"Talk?"

"Just talk. No sex."

"You're paying me to talk?"

"Yes."

"That's .. unusual."

"You're unusual"

John began to smile. This was an odd fellow, no doubt about it. John pulled up a chair and sat down in front of the man, who looked at him with a predator's eyes. They were piercing, and his face expressionless. It was scary, to be sure. Or at least, it should be. John knew he ought to feel as if it was scary, but suddenly he wasn't so sure that he felt intimidated by his eyes. Instead they appeared almost alluring.

"Why am I unusual?"

"Tell me something, John. Do you feel a deep friendship with your acquaintances in this cheap brothel, officially posing as a lowlife bar? Do you feel like you are close to them? And what about the visitors? The people out there. Do you belong to their kind?"

"How did you know my name?"

"You look like a John", said the stranger with a twisted grin. "How about the question? Do you feel a deep kinship to the kind you treat?"

"What kind? Lowlife?"

"No, humans"

"Humans?!"

"Yes."

"What the fuck are you talking about? Are you high? Of course I feel a.. what did you call it, kinship? Yeah of course I fucking do, I am a god damn human and so are you. Are you tripping, man?"

"You answer the question so lightly, yet you hide insecurity behind that social shield of yours. Small cracks break the dam, you know"

"What?"

"Can I ask you another question?"

"I am not sure.. is this how you wanna spend your cash, man?"

"It is. Here's some more if you need it", said the man. He dug into the pocket of his jacket and his hand returned with loads of cash. The clump of money was put in John's hands and the man leaned back once more. As John counted the money, he understood it was well over one hundred dollars. "I trust you find the sum satisfactory?"

"I.. Yes. It is satisfactory. Ask away. If you don't get violent, I don't mind your insane babbling."

"Glad to hear it. Very well then. What do you dream about?"

"What I ... dream about? You mean.. my future?"

"No. Nighttime. In your sleep. What do you dream about?"

"Well.. that.. sort of varies, you know. Like it does for us all"

"Rubbish"

"What?"

"I call your bluff. I say it's rubbish. At this point, you do not dream like others do. You dream of only one thing. Tell me what it is."

"Excuse me?!?? What the fuck is this, the goddamn Twilight Zone? You don't know crap about what I dream!"

"Not entirely incorrect, but I do know roughly. I just want it confirmed, if you please?"

"I don't believe this shit..."

"I did pay. That leaves my part of the trade fulfilled. Now it's time for you to do your part"

"Fine..", John said and got up from the chair. He walked over to the desk and looked himself in the mirror. There was a slight flicker again, damn annoying. John rubbed his eyes and looked in the mirror again. His image had settled. It was clear once more.

"Trick of the brain?", said the man from the bed and scoffed slightly.

"No.. I don't know. I keep getting eye problems. Never mind."

"It's not an eye problem."

"What?"

"Sometimes when you look at reflections of yourself, you see something strange for a fraction of a second, right?"

"How the fuck did you ... who the fuck are you? Are you government? Some doctor or something keeping track on test subjects, what the fuck is this?"

"Not government. Private sector. Own a media production and distribution company. Back to you. Your dreams?"

"Yeah.. just a bit paranoid about you knowing that eye thing."

"It's not the eye, like I said."

"Whatever.. are you psychic, like one of those medium dudes?"

"Yes. In a sense."

"Ok. Cool, I guess..."

John looked into the mirror again. It looked fine. A crack ran along the glassy surface, splitting his face in half, distorting the right side. Metaphor for this whole situation. He tore himself away from the desk and walked a bit closer to the man on the bed.

The man looked deeply into the eyes of John, and something began to change. It was as if the room was darker, and the only thing that existed in the whole world were those green eyes staring at him. As if in a tunnel, all else faded away, save those green eyes and the voice of the man.

"John, look into my eyes, and tell me what you dream"

John felt light. Like he was nothing, like he was air. He drifted above ground, up into the clouds, circling them skillfully. He was in his dream.

"I dream of flying. Every night since childhood. Even as I lived in the gutters and back streets, I was flying once I was sound asleep. Flying over hills and mountains so beautiful. Like I knew the damn places. Stupid dreams. Wish they could change."

"They can, if you can. How are you flying?"

"I.. what do you mean? I am just flying."

"Through the aid of a mechanical invention?"

"No, just.. flying."

"In your current form?"

John paused for a while, to think. What an odd question it was. Of course he was just flying normally... or was he? No. He wasn't.

"I am ... no.. "

"You feel liberated. You feel free. Not confined to a body that repulses you. Skin that seems too tight, too loose, too saggy. Fragile. You feel like you've broken free from a cell, don't you? As if your bones have grown, and you have slit asunder all the sickness, weakness and unnatural ties you wear every day to fit in with those around you. As if the prison walls have crumbled, and you can roam like a god in the skies once more? As if old memories returned, and life burst anew into your veins?"

John was stunned, and his heart pounded quicker. It was all so real, as if he really was back in his dreams. He could picture it now, the landscapes rushing by beneath him, and saltwater in the wind as he flew closer to the ocean. The smell of the fish in the water.

"John, I can tell that you know what I am talking about. The dream, John, you are connecting to it. Feel it, embrace it. What do you see?"

"I see.. mountains.. in the distance. Water beneath me. I soar in the skies, but now I have decided to fly down, right above the surface of the ocean. I feel salty winds in my face. I smell fish below me, they're in the deep", John said nervously. He felt like in a trance. Hypnotized by the voice of the strange man.

"I want you to look at the surface of the water, John. Tell me what you see"

John flew above the water, but the skies were so bright blue, and the sun was blinding him as it reflected from the liquid fields below him. He flew closer, and noticed how clouds now obscured the sun. The image of himself was getting clearer, it was.. he is huge. Different. His body looked almost alien to him now, as if he had turned into a scaly, giant bird. Or was it a dinosaur? So slender. Beautiful. Tensing his eyes on the reflection, it was clear that his scales were deep blue, shimmering just as magnificently as the waters below. The form... he recognized it from fiction. He could now clearly see that...

"... I am a dragon".

The realization was a load off John's back, it seemed to almost be a liberating thought. But surely, it could be no more than that. A thought. A dream.

"Excellent, now I want you to slip out of the dream and wake up. You will feel relaxed in doing so"

John felt a shudder as the walls of his reality melted away from him, snatched by the confines of darkness. Dim lights of planet Earth signalled him in to its wake, and slowly the room formed around him once more. It was hard to focus, but he could once more see the strange man, sitting on the bed.

"How are you feeling, John?"

"I am .. I am feeling fine, thank you. What just happened?"

"I helped you find your dream and carefully allowed you to enter it. Your orientation skills are quite fine I must say, seems like you had a nice flight. Was this the first time you saw yourself for what you are?"

"It's a fucking dream, get off my back."

"It's more than just a dream, John. Deep down, you know that. Just reflect upon your senses. Your acute sense of smell. Your hearing. Your eyesight..."

"What about my damn senses?"

"Surely you've encountered wonder amongst your so-called friends? Haven't they paled in comparison whenever they convey their observations and perceptions about the surroundings you seemingly experience in greater detail than they do? Don't they strike you as inferior in that regard? And ... another thing; how do they smell? Do they smell like I smell?"

"Well.. I realize my senses seem unusually good compared to most people, but so what? And as for your scent.. No. You do smell differently from anyone I have smelled before..."

".. and I am not wearing cologne"

"No, I can tell. I don't know .. I can't explain it.. nor can I explain how you can know all the stuff you do.. about me. It's weird. You're weird. What's your angle?"

"Your safety and happiness"

"My ´safety´ and ´happiness´? Hang on.. You're some religious nutjob aren't you? And you think you somehow know what I consider happiness? Who the fuck do you think you are?"

"I am not religious and I didn't mean to imply that I know what you think and feel about things. I merely stated my desires; to see you safe and happy. I do admit, I have a predisposition in my mindset regarding the achievement of such vivid goals; namely that you first know who you are and accept yourself for being what you are. And although you may consider it prejudical of me - I doubt you do either".

"So you thought you could just waltz in here and deliver some fucking insight-on-demand? Maybe some hard counsel with 'Almighty You' as a prescription for my inner joy? What is this, some fucking sect you want me to join? You pompous ass! I may be a fucking rent boy, but I have some god damn dignity left, and although it's probably not much, it's the last fucking inch of my soul that I wont part with. Not for the likes of you!" "You treat me like I am a charlatan or a confidence trickster, out to get your money or something. I have nothing to gain from this. I don't want your money, I don't want you to join a sect, and I am not trying to play sadistic games with you for my pleasure. You needn't waste your breath on proposing such prospects". The man sighed, but didn't really seem to have lost his temper. He did seem burdoned by some form of sadness though. The signals were subtle, but John felt sure he wasn't imagining things. "...but I can tell you are distressed. I will leave my card here with you, and should you desire to talk more with me, you are welcome to my home. You can find the adress on the card. I am at home most nights after 8 pm."

"What? That was an abrupt ending. And... hang on... you want me to come alone to your home in the dead of night? That wouldn't strike you as odd, hearing someone say that to you?"

"No. It is your choice whether or not to show up. Why would you interpret this as a concealed threat? It is an option, not an ultimatum. Maybe I am a psychotic madman trying to lure you into a trap, but I think it would have been an unnecessarily intricate way of going about business, if that would have been the case."

"Perhaps you like the hunt... the game of it. Seen those people too. After all, you *did* come in here and pay me loads of cash to have me hypnotized into believing I am a dragon. What fucking nutcase does that kinda thing?"

The man simply shrugged his shoulders, got up from the bed and walked towards the door. "Nothing is what it seems. Take care, John. And please, I beg you.. think hard about what you've experienced here today. All aspects."

As the man left, John felt himself deflated of all thought and emotion. As if a part of his soul had wandered off with the stranger, he was bereft of will. The radio played another stupid song, and the whole room radiated of a solemn disconnection. Tapestries and walls, distorted frequencies of pop music, stench of dried sweat, cum and various other body fluids from poorly washed bed sheets. It was all he knew, and all he despised. A watered down existance lost at sea, with roaring waves safeguarding places of beauty from his gaze. Could there be a different horizon looming, with the unspoked promises of greater understanding? Could a stranger be the messenger of hope?

John returned to the bar. The stench was unbearable there, as it always was. More evident now, the absence of that familiar illusion of belonging. Like being a wolf amongst lambs. John widened his nostrils and dragged in the imprints from all patrons. They all smelled pungent, and the putrid core of their soul leaked out from their disgusting bodies in all possible kinds of ways; guttural laughter, stories of grandeur, spawned by desperation of being recognized by their would-be peers. Mindless monkeys, primates pounding their chests. Unimpressive, misdirected, spineless, unempathic, blind. John found nothing within any of them, nothing worth keeping.

He looked at the card and was intrigued by its distributor's scent. It was still upon the card. Hard to place why it was so different from the others, the scent of humans. It wasn't entirely different, to be sure. The body of the man seemed human enough, and it smelled fairly human. But something about the scent also indicated that he wasn't human. Not entirely. The card was simple but elegant. It had the logo of a dragon on it, the symbol for the media network "Vovin". Apparently owned by Dan Saer. Odd name. It obviously seemed like the man was obsessed with dragons. Perhaps he believed himself to be one too.

But inevitably, he had made some good points, and John was certainly intrigued by the notion of pretending to be something he isn't. It's an escape, and probably healthier than the drugs and alcohol he normally consumed to achieve the same effect. The hypnosis and the dream, it had all made him feel better. Liberated. It was fantastically relaxing.

--

The night went on, but many conflicting thoughts circulated inside John's mind. Obtaining customers suddenly had less priority, but despite his lack of attempts to persue them, a woman had walked up to him. She didn't look too bad, considering the place. In her fifties, possibly. A bit rugged, but not too shabby. She wore clothes that made her seem desperate to appear young, and the smell of cheap tequila was upon her breath, as she leaned in on John. "I hear you're the best...", she whispered with a hint of exhaustion. The night out had obviously already made her fatigued. It wasn't unusual for John to have customers like this, turning to him at the moment of desperation and their minds bordering on drunken stupor. The verge of fallout.

She followed John to the room. The same old place as before, where he'd spend his time with the strange man. The same old place he spent his nights sleeping over, when the owner allowed him to. The room welcomed their presence by intimidating all senses with its dull atmosphere, devoid of life. John noticed the radio was still on. Fittingly, it played a love song. How ironic.

He was just about to start his default seduction process, but the woman was already upon him, like salt to a sweaty brow. She tore off his leather vest with gusto, and started to grind her face against his chest, slobbering her tongue all over it. John found it amusing, but tried to appear lustful. This would be a pushover. She was barely conscious.

She immediately started to undress herself with neurotic hands, backing slowly towards the bed behind her. "God you're beautiful", she said with a raspy voice. John undressed himself casually, letting the vest and his pants fall to the floor. He was soon nude, and the woman approached the same stage herself, with her pants clumsily curled around her ankles. With some violent kicks, she sent the pants flying across the room. John put on a condom. Black. Ribbed, for her pleasure. As if she could tell, at this state. She beckoned John to come to her as she fell naked upon the bed. On her back, she looked up at John with something akin to a junkie's eyes. "Fuck me, kid", she said. "No foreplay, none of that crap, just fill me with your young cock".

John walked up to her. Through the marvel of self control, he managed to stay fully erect. The human female beneath him was not overly ugly, despite her somewhat saggy abdomen and visibly wrinkled skin around her otherwise fairly decent legs. He entered her with ease, and she moaned; a voice worn down over the years, through the massive aid of whisky and liquor.

His emotional auto-pilot was now engaged. He did the old in-and-out, thrusting her secreting orifice, pumping her with his meat, acting as though it was something he enjoyed. His mind was elsewhere though, up in the clouds.

In fact, he was truly up in the clouds. He was reminded of the dream from before. Flying. As a dragon. What if he could drift off into that dream now? Better yet, what if he could turn into a dragon while fucking? The thought was amusing. Intoxicating. At first the prospect seemed appealing due to its comical nature, but John quickly realized it was the notion of transformation that made him fascinated, and he was unable to divert his attention back to the woman.

The room became enveloped by darkness, once more. Was he drifting again? Could he do it on his own, without the guidance of the stranger's voice? Deliberately, he struggled to dive into the dreamstate while letting his body do its pumping. This woman demanded no particular thrills anyway, so she probably wouldn't mind John continuing his uninspiring missionary pounding. Her cackling sounds of apparent pleasure faded out, and John found himself soaring once more, amongst the clouds. He was still a human though, he hadn't transformed. She was there too, in his mind. He couldn't quite drown her out. At least her voice was muted, and it was a welcome transition from the audible nightmare she had vexed him with before.

He found himself flying higher and higher into the skies, and suddenly he felt his body reshape. He grinned with delight as his colors began to reflect the hues of the ocean below. Skin turning to scales, slowly, shifting their colors into midnight blue. It felt physical. It felt real. John felt tears swelling in his eyes. He felt stronger, his muscles bulged with the change. On his back, the slow protruding of wings broke through his unwanted human skin sack he had felt confined to all his life. As he thrusted, he felt his bulging cock exploding with desire as it grew in size and width. Its shape was transformed, and the consistency changed aswell. It felt as if the condom had burst due to the transformation. He so wanted to see what his penis looked like now, feel what it would feel like in his clawed hand. Oh god! Clawed hand! He could see it now; it had changed too, in shape and form, adapting to fit the needs of a dragon body. So beautiful, and yet... it was his hand now. He was becoming something infinitely more gorgeous than he ever thought he could be. His body changed rapidly as....

"Oh god!!! What's happening!!! What are you??! Demon!!!!"

The voice of the woman pierced his ears, shattered the dream. John was instantly back in the room, and the scent of blood was nauseating. It came from her.

John looked down and saw his hands holding her legs under her knees. The arms had quickly disappearing scales on the surface, the color was gradually turning human. Was it all a trick of the eye? He only vaguely saw these changes in passing, but surely it wasn't real? His penis looked bigger than ever, magnificently dug into her vagina like a train trying to fit into a keyhole. The condom had indeed burst, and blood was all over the sheets from her expanded vaginal walls. It was his member, it had grown, changed. It seemed to be attached to something akin to a sheath, or maybe it was a cavity. No matter what it was, it was part of his body, and it was light blue in color, but the color was now quickly fading back to his normal skin color. Even the previously swollen "sheath" settled, seemingly melting, once more becoming his normal belly skin. It was as though he had begun to change, but was now changing back. Had he begun to change into ... a dragon? No. It couldn't be. He was surely just imagining things. These changes that he thought he had seen after opening his eyes from the day dream, they had all been over in less than a second. It had to have been wishful thinking.

Wishful? Madness.

The woman, struggling and screaming, trying to escape the situation, eventually managed to slip away from John, who was now paralyzed with shock. She grabbed her clothes and headed out into the corridor, rabidly resounding like a siren in war. John could not speak. What had the stranger done to him? Was he rendered insane?

--

At the table, another drink stared back with its liquid iris. John sat alone, and it was long past closing time. The whole club was empty, and the bartender swept the wooden floor with a mop. "You know I seldom get to enjoy your company, Johnny-boy... Now I understand why I haven't missed these moments. You don't talk much, do you?"

"Sorry... I am not in the mood tonight..."

"I can tell. That's the eighth glass of bourbon I see you drink. Aiming for a record?"

"Not really, no. Do you believe in ... the supernatural?"

"What, ghosts and shit?"

"Yeah."

"Naaah.. my mother used to talk about stuff like that at times when I was a boy. Turns out she was overdosing her pills. What, you seen a ghost?"

"Something like that..."

John felt drunk and disillusioned, but had nowhere to go. He knew he would have to sleep sooner or later, but he didn't want to return to the room. The streets outside bathed in midnight rain, and there were no nearby shelters. Dancing on the surface of the table, the card he had received before. Its dance guided and upheld by John's human hands. Human. But how come they felt less real than ... those of a dragon.

John had to find out. He had to find the stranger. With conviction, he swiftly rose from the table. He took a few steps but felt ill. He had stood up too quickly, blood urgently tried to rush to his head, and the alcohol had numbed his legs out of commission. He supported his weight at the table, which nearly turned over. He dropped his pride, but regained his balance.

"You ok, John?"

Nodding as a reply, he went out into the night. Into the darkness. The wet rain drops colored his clothes and his skin with pearly mirrors, reminding him of illusions, reminding him of shame, and reminding him of desperation. He began walking towards the adress he had seen on the card. As the dark wrapped him in its cold blanket, mysteries and questions formed in his head. He felt like a child once more, dreaming of answers shaped after his desires. Could reality be something new, something refreshing? Would he find freedom?

The road was covered by a long, silvery mattrass of water, sparkling with the stars above as though it was random spotlights inside the theater of death. Coldness seemed to almost pry the skin open, causing pain to erupt, robbing the sensations of skin around his muscles and bones. The night was unforgiving, but John ... he was smiling.

--

The mansion was huge. John had once seen movies with structures like these in them, but in real life, he hadn't even been close. The walk here had been long, and morning light began to climb over the hills, causing reality to bathe in an unreal, red hue. Like war tents, the towers of the mansion broke the morning clouds with their menacing presence, and the birds flying madly about made the whole scenery seem even more film-like. John was nervous as he approached the gate, which had a communication pad by its steely fingers. John pressed a button, and it generated an electric crackling sound. Moments passed. Birds chirped their chaotic sermons, incessantly interrupting each other. The peaceful murmur of traffic lay like low frequency bass lines in the distance. Suddenly the crackling commenced once more, this time followed by an electronically scrutinized voice. It was Dan, or whatever his real name was.

"Yes?", the pad crackled and hissed.

"It's John, I .. "

"Ahh, John. Didn't quite expect you at this hour."

"Yeah, I'm ... I'm sorry, didn't know what to do, I was... drinking and.. didn't have any place I would... could..."

"Get inside. It's open now."

John stepped through the gate and paced along the stone path. On both sides, extravagant flowers and trees grew in fantastic patterns. It was a magnificent garden, to be sure. Elaborate in both design and sheer floral mass. Like the garden of Eden. Hard to appreciate the beauty at this point though - his head was killing him. Was he drunk, or was he hungover? Hard to tell. Everything felt surreal.

As he came close to the door, he saw the stranger open it. He wore a black silk morning robe now, and it made John think of Hugh Hefner. The smirk on John's lips came unexpectedly, but hopefully it was subtle enough to not be taken as an insult by the man.

"Welcome John. Step inside", said the man and went in. Even before joining him inside, John could tell this house was like no other he had seen.

Insane. This is how he lives?

Upon entering the house, John was struck with awe. Huge, spiraling stairs leading forever upwards around the enormous entrance hall. Grand statues placed strategically about; it seemed to mostly contain historical figures - warriors, leaders. They all looked stern. Above them, balconies looming in their ascended state, seemingly leaning over floors far above the ground level, with no roof visible. Just a round, giant hole which peered up into infinity. John stepped forward a bit and looked up, towards the heavens. Over the whole complex, he could see a massive glass dome safeguarding the innards of the luxurious home, with trickling, complex light streams travelling down, illuminating all floors. The near-morning light made the strangers face seem more lucid than before, but at least he was smiling warmly as he lead John further into his home. Extravagant paintings, several square feet in size, hung on the blood red walls as they walked towards a room on the far end of the hall. Most of the paintings had mythological motifs.

"I am glad you came here, even though you reek of alcohol. You're beginning to sober up a bit, but I can still tell you are tired. Did this night not treat you well?"

"Did this... heh... you talk funny. But yeah.. well.. no I guess it didn't. I guess I didn't... or .. you! You didn't!"

"Come again?"

"What? Oh. What I mean is, you fucked up my head. You've filled it with strange damn visions and shit, and I can't control it. Suddenly I start seeing claws and shit growing from my hands, people start bleeding, and I can't figure out -- "

"-- Claws? Bleeding?!". He stopped walking and looked at John intensily. It was impossible to determine if his eyes were filled with rage, or just an abundance of gravity. "Tell me what happened, John."

"Oh don't give me that look! You know exactly what's going on, don't you! You pull this crap on people from left to right, enjoying every god damned second of it.... "

"John, what happened?"

John began to settle down a bit, as he noticed the sincerity in the stranger's eyes. "I was with this customer, you know, paying customer. She paid me to fuck her, as you probably understand.. and then I was sort of daydreaming about ... you know, how it would be to, like... fly again. And stuff".

John recollected the event in his mind, it was horribly surreal, the notion that what happened really did transpire. ".. it felt so fucking real. And then suddenly it felt as if I changed, and that felt even *more* real, for some fucked up reason. She started screaming, and then she started bleeding. Well, you know.. she was bleeding.. down there.. cause of my dick. It had grown. Or maybe I was imagining things or shit, I don't know. Did I hurt her? I mean, have you unlocked some kind of psycho gene in me or something?"

The stranger said nothing, at first. He just stood there, looking at John intensily. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking, but it didn't feel as if he was overly joyous.

"John, it is imperative that you do not ever do something like that again, do you hear me?"

"Again?! Look, I hardly expected anything to actually *happen*.. if I would have known, I would *never* .... have... ", John began. Suddenly he froze mid-sentence, as a thought occured. He was lying. He loved that experience, and although he sympathized with the woman, he was sure of one thing; he wanted to transform again. "- actually... I ... "

"I won't forbid you from ever transforming again, John. Just don't ever do it in public spaces. You must not be seen"

"You mean she saw what I saw? It really happened?"

"Has anything in your life felt more real?"

"Well no, but ... I mean, even being high can make you see things, and that feels real.."

"Not in this sense, and you know it. It was entirely different from such experiences. It was something beyond the veil of reality that you've known. Look into your heart, do you truly believe your own convictions? That it wasn't real? Is that a notion you honestly feel you can cling to?"

John barely needed the effort of afterthought. After all, this body of his - this hollow vessel, transporting something divine peering through a myriad of physical peepholes; that wasn't him. The cargo was. But what is it? Who am I?

"No.. I know, deep down, that it was probably... no... it was real. What am I then? I am.. a dragon? Are you also a dragon?"

"Yes."

The look upon his face was deadly serious. John felt heavy. Blood stopped rushing to his head and his vision was invaded by erratic stars and white, sharp noise. He felt cold, pale. I am passing out!

The last thing John saw, as he collapsed onto the floor, was the sudden reaction from the stranger. He leapt forward to grab John in his fall, but it was hard to make out whether or not he made it in time. John believed he registered a sensation of being caught, but only his pulse could be heard, thumping in his ear.

The rest became frighteningly black.

--

John was breathing again. He felt real. He felt powerful. For some reason, he knew he was in his dream again. He really did pass out before, and now he was in the safe confines of the reality inside the dream. Something made him believe he was also in his dragon form again, but he dared not look, out of fear he was also a dragon in his real, physical body. But somehow, he didn't believe that was the case.

Inspecting himself was impossible, as everything around him was pitch black, and he was not illuminated. He could feel himself though, and he was on all four, and he had wings. He felt it, and it felt divine. This was spectacular.

"Feeling good?", a friendly voice said. It was him, the stranger. His voice was ominous here, as though spoken through an amplifier.

"Yes?", John answered, but it was a strange sensation. The throat felt unused to speech, and the wind streams from his belly and lungs tickled his neck from within as it passed, causing unusual friction within. He had never spoken as a dragon before. Dragon! Suddenly an immense, euphoric joy swelled inside. John started to laugh, and it sounded fantastic when his strange, draconic noises boomed in this dream reality. It had a strange flanger character to it. That's what my laughter sounds like? He couldn't help but laughing even more. This was pure ecstacy.

"I am glad you're having a good time", the stranger continued with a warm voice. "You are actually not in your own dream, I took the liberty of inviting you into mine, just to be safe. Here, I have total control, and I am able to allow you exploration without anything... going wrong. I will explain in greater detail, later on... but for now, how about you inspect yourself?"

Erupting like a dance floor in diffuse glow, the area around John lit up. It was like a free floating platform in the middle of nothingness. He saw himself now. His first thought; Blue. It was the most perfect deep blue he had ever seen, and he was totally flabbergasted that it belonged to his own body. His arms, or maybe they were front legs, laid before him, lifting his weight above ground. Long, slender arms they were, muscular and scaled. He had cute little claws on the opposing ends inside his arms, just before the hands. They were like miniature thumbs. The hands themselves, flexible and strong, were clawed. With fascination, he realized he could retract and release his claws at will. Even his 'fingers' were as easy to control as human hands, but they were infinitely stronger.

He decided to try and cross his eyes just to get a good look at his nose, and the long muzzle. It was hard to tell, and he got pretty dizzy from the effort, but it seemed like his face was very long and majestic. Using his tongue, he found he could lick his nostrils. By reflex, they flared up at the touch of rough, wet dragon tongue. It was hard to control the long, agile tongue, but he soon got the hang of it, and used his newfound skill to feel the multitude of sharp teeth in his muzzle. It was impossible to not snicker at this experience. John was still beside himself with joy. This was life. Oh! My body!

John nearly strained his neck when he turned to look at himself with ferocious speed. He noticed what an incredibly strong, and above all, long neck he truly had. The possibilities to look all over his body seemed endless now. He quickly spotted the wings when he turned, and halted to observe them. Their gracious wingspan, as he used his back muscles to expand them like flags on a warship, nearly made John's heart leap out of his chest. As he stood there, in awe of his own body, he suddenly couldn't hold back the tears. He started crying. The emotional turmoil inside him was an erupting volcano, and the purity of his almost childlike feeling of happiness was too much to bear within. He looked from side to side, tracing the incredible outline of his winged canvas. Through the warm mist of tears, his distorted vision was still able to pick up the delicacy of his skin, as it waved slightly in the subtle air streams that gently cruised in the dark void. On the two holds that each wing possessed along the wingbone outline, small claws protruded. Tilting his head upwards, he felt something connect with his neck. It was like a shield expanding from the back of his own skull, like a collar. It provided an excellent opportunity to give himself some neck massage, and he decided to rub for a while as it was very relaxing to do so.

John then continued to look at his body, and where he could see, it was beyond beautiful. Beyond words. Blue scales intermingled with his white, softer ones along his belly. The white ones seemed to run up along his chest and neck aswell. His hind legs were almost impossibly muscular, and moving them caused ripples to form on his perfect thighs and calves.

"I think it's time I presented myself properly, from one fellow dragon to another", the stranger said with a smirk.

Suddenly the world grew, John could feel it. Light found its way from all corners of this dream world, and painted reality with skyline, clouds, a sun. John discovered he was standing on a cliff, overlooking a vast ocean. In many ways, it seemed that this dream reality was conformed to be similar to the ones that John used to have. Before him, John could see a gradually unveiled shadow figure.

"Allow me to introduce myself..."

John felt panic as he could no longer fill his lungs. What he saw took his breath away. Before him, fully illuminated and exposed, stood the most gorgeous creature he had ever seen in his entire, useless life. John felt how his maw was opening widely, his heart raced and the sheer awe of the whole situation dumbstruck him beyond any words.

"My name.. my true name.. is Saerdan".

It was as if the most magnificent dragon that John had ever been able to imagine suddenly had sprung into existence. Never before had John felt this profound attraction to another living being, but now it felt as if all pent up desire he has ever had, was manifesting into a demonic entity about to catapult right out of his body and pounce the studly beast before him.

Saerdan stood confidently on the edge of the cliff, with a proud stance. He was bigger than John in most respects, and also sturdier, with far bigger muscles playing all over his scaled body, glistening almost like a wet orca from the reflections of the sun. He was deep green in color, but there were so many nuances shifting around in the light, almost like magic. It was like staring into a deep forest as the sun was setting. The green colors married similarly deep shades of brown, and although he was quite evidently mostly green, it was as if the scales had multiple layers, reflecting differently depending on the angle. He could probably blend perfectly well with the woods, in fact it was almost as if he was the spirit of the forest itself. The magnificent green luminance danced with the slightest movements of his body.

Saerdan's body did seem to be configured differently from his own, and John had a hard time imagining this dragon to be very versatile in flight, due to him being rather heavy set. His wings were folded neatly, laying along his strong back. Upon further inspection, John noticed that Saerdan was seemingly a tiny bit shorter than himself, but more than made up for it by having a far broader frame. Something akin to armored shields expanded from the shoulders, and his chest appeared to have thicker scales than John's own. Saerdan also appeared to lack a similarly large 'collar', like the one John possessed; but instead, delicate horns adorned the powerfully expanded back of his head, and they framed his face beautifully. The eyes were like burning beacons; intelligent, confident, experienced. John became mesmerized by his gaze, and his form. What a powerhouse! Oh god, I want him inside me..

Suddenly John became aware of a new sensation; arousal. At first, it felt pretty much like it did as a human, but the sensation of swelling came from within his own body. He tried to look inconspicuous as he looked down at his crotch area to find out what was going on. To his surprise, he noticed the surface was slick and plain there - no genitals. Only a slight bulge. This initially confused John greatly, but then he noticed that something began to reveal itself, a remarkable cavity between his legs, that slowly began to open, with the ends puffing up until it looked more or less like the sheath he had seen before, as he transformed in his human shape. Soon enough, he saw his long, wet penis slide out from the crevice. His member was red in color, and the tip was far thinner than the base, which was pushing itself out from within, aswell. The bulge behind the penis expanded, roughly drawing two scaly hills below the thick base of the penis. They had to be the testicles, which were inside him, but still made their presence known to the world as heavy, rounded orbs sinking towards the ground quite visibly at his scaly crotch.

"You smell amazing when you're aroused", said Saerdan as he sniffed the air.

John was startled by the remark, and felt embarrased beyond comprehension. He cringed noticably, and had no idea what to say.

"Ha ha, don't be so worried. It's a good thing that you get used to your body and all its functions. But what made you so excited?"

"Sorry, I ... couldn't help it.. you are just so insanely radiant.. I don't think I've seen anything sexier in my life"

"I am deeply honored. You are a very fine dragon yourself"

Dragon? Me? I can get used to this..

"Care for a flight?", Saerdan said with a grin on his eager face.

"Actually, that sounds wonderful... although I have been flying before, so I am kind of used to it"

"When you dreamed before, you were not self aware. What you have been experiencing up until this point, is what we call the first stage of ascension; aimless cruising in the air, or sometimes on foot, depending on what best accomodates your true nature. There are different kinds of dragons, after all. Now that you are aware, and have begun to attempt transformation, you will find that you have full control over yourself in your dreams; what we call astral sleep. Here, you are not merely dreaming anymore; you are free. In total command of your astral body in a transcended state. The person you are here, is your real self, not in a physical sense, but rather - it is your soul. What we create around us is dream though - it isn't real, like you are."

"So.. you are real too?"

"Yes. In astral sleep, we are free to enter each others dreams, like travellers in an astral plane. Here, we can interact with one another just as if we would be awake in our physical, and sadly human, bodies. We are no more asleep here than when we are awake on Earth."

"But don't we need sleep?"

"We do, but while we remain here, our physical bodies are asleep. In fact, more than just sound asleep; as our souls only have a partial connection with the bodies that carry them, we only sustain our bodies with a minimum of energy. It is therefore hard to wake us up, but luckily we are always well rested when we wake up, as you know."

"Yeah... tell me.. if we are both real here, with our astral bodies, visiting each other and creating stuff around us... can we .. touch each other? And will it.. be real?"

Saerdan smiled. It looked strange to see a dragon smile, but John instinctively knew that it was a smile. A warm one, even. Wordlessly, Saerdan walked towards him. The movements of his hips, his forelegs, the subtle sway of his neck; gracious. John had never before been captivated by someone walking, but this was poetry in motion. Like a dance you can't get enough of. Before long, the mighty dragon towered before him, close enough to touch. John sunk down a bit, showing himself inferior and submissive. Saerdan looked like a pillar of safety, and with a curious deep rumble, he began soothing John with his presence alone. John closed his eyes and listened to the low, growling rumble. It was not a threatening sound, it was kind. Familiar somehow, like a voice from another life; one he hasn't heard for centuries. The rhytmic waves of sound buried itself deep into John's mind, even his body. He was thoroughly affected by it, and slowly he opened his eyes. His head was still held low, bowing before his newfound master. He looked straight into his chest. Saerdan's chest. He felt a need to ask permission, he couldn't just .. touch him. Could he?

"You are bewitching me... Saerdan. I don't know how you do that sound, but it's .. I feel so safe with you. Please.. I beg you.. can I .. can I touch you? Can we touch eath other in this astral world?"

Saerdan kept on producing the enthralling wave lengths, and did not answer. Instead, he crept closer with an inviting calmness. John barely had time to gasp before he found his draconic face inadvertently pressed against Saerdan's warming body. Saerdan placed his head on John's back, right between his shoulders, and his neck lay like a heavy snake on John's head. It was so warm, and strangely soft. John moaned and dove his head as deep into the chest of his master as he could, and it spelled safety beyond all borders, beyond all reason. The rumbling continued, and it made John's sensitive face tremble and stir in its tranquil wake. There was a scent aswell, magnified by the emotional state Saerdan seemed to be in. This was clearly an act of conveying safety, friendship, and the scent that inevitably spread from this wonderful dragon's body became like a drug to John.

"Does this answer your question?"

With tears streaming down his face, John sobbed loudly as he tried to speak.

"No, Saerdan..it does so much more.. it answers everything I have ever wondered, and everything I have ever wanted in life."

With his wings, Saerdan wrapped John in a loving embrace. John felt the rays of the sun dissipating, as he was now sheltered under the protective skin of his dragon god. He felt heavy forelegs clasping around his sides. Holding him. Caressing him.

Saerdan's dragon musk gained increased potency in this confined space, this entropy formed by encasing wings, and John's face now bathed in his lushious, steamy odor, and he was unwilling to withdraw. Instead he sought his way down along the chest line, trying to trace the source of that wonderous substance the scent originated from. He knew it had to be the crotch, but it was so hard to see in this darkness, for he was wrapped in the whole being of his dragon guardian. As he slid down the belly of Saerdan, he could feel the scales becoming gradually softer as he drew nearer to the source of the musk. He used his tongue to lick his master's body along the path, and the taste made him feel almost high with euphoria.

Suddenly he was there. He had reached it, he could feel the bulging landmark on the dragon's body. His tongue found the place on his master's sex; the scaled hill where the tip would be bound to slip out if he stimulated it properly. He maneuvered the end of his tongue into the meaty cavity, and his eyes opened wide as he connected wetly with the organ in there. Saerdan's penis. The taste entered John's soul and provided nectar he knew he could give his life to drink more of. With insane passion he began to kiss the crotch while fishing for the penis to retract and expand from its cave. With his tongue slithered around it, he could feel sizeable veins around its form, but suddenly everything began to shake and move, quickly escaping him. John felt a sudden, airy breeze upon his person, and the contrast made his body feel cold all of a sudden, despite the world illuminating around him. It was Saerdan who had backed away from him.

"No....", Saerdan's voice harshly proclaimed.

The hardest word in the universe to absorb. John knew he should probably feel ashamed, he had performed a severe transgression, a breach in protocol. Unacceptable behaviour. Still, he could not force himself to feel regret. He only felt a deep longing.

"This isn't how I want it done."

"Oh, I am so sorry.. I just.. oh god I couldn't control myself. I beg you, please master. Forgive me. Please.. I will do anything, just... forgive me?"

Saerdan tilted his head in an inquisitive manner, seemingly perplexed at John's reply.

"No need to be so worried. Of course I forgive you. You are juvenile, and for the first time in your life you are getting used to your real body. Even if we are on an astral plane, we still function exactly as we would if our bodies were on Earth, and you are filled with raging hormones, I can tell"

John sighed and sank a bit, still hopelessly aroused and dreaming of more intimacy. Saerdan snickered and looked reassuring.

"I swear to you that I will let you explore your sexuality. Even with me, should you want it. But I want it to happen because of your genuine feelings for me, not just because of whims deriving from chaotic lust."

A rush of joy made John lighten up slightly. "I will do anything you say, Master. And I look forward to learn a lot more about ... everything"

With a smile, Saerdan turned and walked up to the cliff before the chasm. He looked into the horizon as the sun was setting, boiling the rocks and the ocean alike with its red luminance.

"Care for a flight then, before our human bodies wake up?"

John felt his eyes bubbling with emotion, but he afforded a gentle nod before he proudly stood on his own dragon feet. As he walked up to his liberator, he saw him build leverage, leaning down. With tremendous force he made a leap into the air, simultaneously expanding his wings before nimbly ascending into his sublime flight. John rushed forward as fast as his unstable legs could carry him, and with a clumsy effort he managed to jump from the edge of the cliff aswell, parachuting his wings in panic. He felt pockets of air bellow a mighty roar behind him as the air got hold of him, and with a jerk, he found himself slowly gaining control of the wind's flow. He erected himself upwards, and while initially he had fallen vertically down towards the waters beneath, he was now progressively attaining a state where he could at least glide in the air. With some adjustments to his wings and his body, he suddenly felt himself rising. He was in control.

The beat of his wings responded well, and he was in the skies. He wasn't as graceful as Saerdan, but at least he was flying. It was an incredible experience. Ahead of him, he could see his master, his guide. He was clearly doing his best to fly as slowly as he could, in order to allow John to catch up.

"Come on, youngling, we still have many sights ahead of us, and many places to explore!", Saerdan roared farther ahead, his voice attenuating across the oceans.

John smiled, like a boy who had recently found the father he never thought he had, and together they flew into the night, with promises of a bright future whispering softly along the ever perpetuating barrage of turbulent winds...

Chapter Two "Camera Obscura"

The alarm clock beeped its hellish, pitched squeal. Max whipped his arm erratically about the nearby vicinity in hopes of destroying the damned thing. Eventually he hit home, and the sound ceased to be. Morning came flooding like distant car lights into his depressing, but very big flat, which was all but empty save a few items here and there. He laid on a mattress on the floor, still awaiting the delivery truck. It was due to arrive three days ago, but apparently they found it necessary to fix some engine or something like that. Max wasn't used to this place. He used to live on the west coast. Now here he was, New York City. It wasn't all it was made out to be. The movies had all been lying, except maybe the film noir ones. Still, his fanbase had grown considerably since he got into the Vovin network. His new show had high ratings and everything was dandy. Despite the lack of a bed and proper furniture, his apartment was central and it was the cat's meow compared to the crappy mould infested beach house he used to have in california. But still, that place was fairly close to the ocean, and here he just felt crammed in between giant, concrete boxes with fumes trailing on its surface 24/7.

Breakfast was tasteless. On the television, some crappy interview with a highly strung artist announcing how incredibly 'deep' his art is, and that nobody understands him. Nobody understands anyone. Everyone is just as blind, Max thought to himself. He looked across the room and spotted one of the few things he's managed to get up and ready in his new apartment; an old picture of his parents. Sepia toned. Happy parents on the beach with their young boy. His mother was jamaican and his father was from Kenya. Max was slightly lighter in skin tone than either of them, but so far he felt very black as he walked the corridors of his new workplace. He was slim, had lots of lengthy, thick dreadlocks swaying about, and nose piercings. Somehow these superficial traits had made his coworkers believe that they had to act "cool" around him, as they no doubt figured he was "cool" too. Pitiful. There are no boundaries to the stereotypes we love to have.

Morning stress had no place in Max's world, and as he moved himself dismally from room to room, trying to pull imaginary curtains apart to reveal the placement of furniture to his inner eye, the clock kept ticking. It was time to move. Max got dressed with impressive speed and called a cab.

Outside the apartment building, the chill winds impersonated the symptoms of fever sickness on Max's skin. He was freezing. The cab that appeared around the corner was like a carriage sent from Death. A gloomy messenger of despair. Something about this day didn't sit right with Max, and he had no idea why he felt that way. He got into the cab, and off they went.

The horizon couldn't be seen as they crossed the bridge, only feet of metal giants clouding the skies. Didn't matter, even the horizons across the oceans had seams, it was layered. The noxious gases of pollution dithered and separated the otherwise potentially lovely blend between earth, sky and water. This world felt like it was dying in the produce of humanity. Max hated it, but still happily contributed with the crap. He was a hypocrite, and he knew it, and hated it. The cab driver looked intensily at him for the longest time, then finally spoke. It seemed like he had tried to contain himself for quite some time, but eventually gave up.

"You're that guy, aint ya?", the obese cab driver said. "That... medium dude? The cool one? Yeah, I've seen you on TV!"

Max tried to look sincere as he smiled, but it was hurtful to act this early in the morning. "Well, I don't know about cool, but... yeah I'm the ... medium dude... I guess"

"It's all hoax though, aint it? You gots scripts and stuff, yeah? It's all choreo... what's the word? You know, it's all... planned and stuff?"

"Well, actually -- "

"-- I remember my cousin said so once. He was an extra, you know. On Miami vice."

Max realized this person was a hopeless case. No point in trying to talk sense with him. For the duration of the ride, Max just nodded his head and agreed with everything the driver said. As he stepped out, he suddenly picked up something from the man; images of him stealing money from his sick mother. It had happened recently.

"What, no tip?", the driver said.

"I didn't think you'd need it, considering you snatched from your own mother only a few days ago. Took money from her bedside table while she was moaning from sickness. Not a very nice thing to do."

The stunned cab driver said nothing as Max closed the door. After a few seconds, he rolled the window down and shouted, as Max walked away- "How the fuck did you know that?!"

"I'm the cool medium dude, remember?", Max shouted back and entered his new place of employment. As he walked towards the elevator, he couldn't help but smile. It was strangely satisfying to surprise people with knowledge he shouldn't have. As far as psychics go, he had never met his match. Maybe he was one of a kind?

Stale orange walls covered the walkways inside the semi-bustling building. Max nodded at the security guards, never the same ones as it seemed. Just how many people does this firm employ?

Lots of people by the massive elevator, all awaiting to be mechanically lifted towards the heavens. Business suits on all of them, except for Max. He wore his jamaican outfit, just to look as stereotypical as he could. Orders from the top, not his own choice.

Damn, even the top dog himself is here, Max thought to himself as he noticed Dan Saer amongst the small crowd. The elevator arrived, and all got in. It was pretty uncomfortable. Max felt like he was squeezed in with a bunch of sweaty sociopaths in a sauna. Everyone tried to not notice one another, and quite a few harkled unpleasantly. It was a typical modern social situation, where being anti-social was considered the social thing to do. Max smiled at his thoughts and looked about. The elevator had mirrors on every side. Like people wanna watch themselves in here, crammed together with other equally stressed out nutjobs. The only damn time this mirror serves a function is when the female employees wanna make sure they look good for a meeting with their boss... Max decided to look anyway, to observe people, and they all sure looked uncomfortable, even when viewed in a mirror. But something was strange. There was something here, an ominous presence of some kind. Max grinned at the silly notion, and kept looking in the mirrors. The only person who could possibly look confident would be --

What.. the ... fuck??!

Max' heart stopped beating for a brief second. He had been looking at Dan's reflection in the mirror, but Dan wasn't reflected. Instead he saw... something reptilian. Something out of this world. Max pulse was well over two hundred as he kept focusing, staring at the strange beast that was being reflected. Green smoke emanated from the being, or was it part of the being itself? Scales? What kind of --

Bright light showered the elevator. Suddenly it was all back to normal. Dan was once more in the reflection and he was..

Looking directly at me. Max got nervous. Those green eyes looked attentive, and Max noticed that Dan was sniffing the air as he was observing his... prey. Suddenly he nodded courteously. Max returned the nod, but couldn't help looking terrified. The elevator stopped at a floor, and Max got out. He left in a hurry, eager to get away. As he noticed the doors closing, and the lift continuing its ascent, he realized he was on the wrong floor. He would have to walk the stairs, but it felt like a welcome relief.

As he walked, it struck him that noone else had noticed it. Only he did. Normal people would believe themselves mad from an experience like this, but Max knew better. He had never been wrong about his visions in the past, and there was no reason to believe otherwise this time. But what was that thing?

Max got to his destination. The studio where his show was recorded. As he opened the door, the tepid air of pre-production hung in the locales. Lights were being fixed as Max appeared. The director, tall and sinewy, walked in his characteristically wobbly fashion over to Max as he had entered. He was fiddling with his glasses, hands moving quickly, like an insect.

"You look a bit stressed, Max. Stay away from coffee and stuff, rots your brain. Or maybe something else? Drugs? No.. you're too focused.. perhaps family problems, emotional... - "

"- Hey, hey, calm down Peter. I am fine. What's up? When do we shoot?"

"Current schedule plan; early November. Dismantling studio, as we speak."

"November?!"

"Early. Yes. Change of plans. Other series higher priority. Executive decision. Don't worry, we're still on payroll. Also, boss called. Want to meet you. Immediately."

"Boss?"

"Dan. Top dog. Upstairs. No time to waste. Shoo, shoo now. I am a busy man, editing the compilation for your show. Will release DVD in two months. Hopeful for big sales."

Like a robot, he spun around and was gone fast as lightning. Max remained for a while, to catch his breath. Dan wanted to see him. The reptile. Or alien. What if the conspiracy theorists has been right all along?

Frantically, Max began searching the studio for someone that could give him any excuse to delay the meeting with Dan. There was noone about, noone that he knew well. He tried to talk himself into striking up a conversation with one of the electricians, but deep down, he knew it would only be awkward - and ultimately it would prove a feeble attempt to delay the inevitable. He would have to face the monster soon anyway. With a sweaty brow and nervous feet, he walked out of the studio, and towards the elevator, once more.

Max was alone in the elevator. Suddenly he understood the women, in a sense. He looked himself in the mirror, trying to make sure he looked his best for what could be his impending death. Maybe if I look ugly enough, he wont eat me? Or maybe I just fucking imagined the whole damn thing. Time to get real.

But 'getting real' was not as easy as he had thought. As the doors to the elevator opened, it felt like his brain was on fire, and the thoughts that billowed from the debris of cognitive clarity clouded his perception of reality. He stepped out of the elevator and ended up outside the huge office, with giant doors looming before him. They were closed. What secret do they keep within their maws?

A small, blonde woman looked up from behind an unfittingly enormous desk. "Can I help you?"

"Uhmm.. yes. I have an appointment."

"Of course! Maximillian Gilford. Step right in, Mr. Saer is expecting you."

"Please just call me.. Max...", he said, almost whispered, as he approached the wooden door. It was dark oak. A plastic tag was inserted into a screwed-on metallic tag holder, and it read "Dan Saer - CEO".

The door had been opened. Max stepped inside and closed it behind him. The whole room was very impressive. Beautiful panorama windows revealed the vistas of New York, and dark oaken panels leapt across the walls, framing the room well. If it wouldn't have been for the windows, all the oak would have made the room dark. For now, it was fairly lofty and light, and it all spelled elegance. Just like Dan, who sat behind his desk, far into the room. He smiled and looked almost ridiculously relaxed.

"Please, have a seat", he said in his calm, british voice. Max obeyed. He was now only about two meters away from the man. If he was a man. So far, Max picked up nothing. He sat down.

"As you may have been informed by now, your show is delayed until further notice"

Max was shocked at this. He had expected a vampire, or something else, leaping at him, and now they were casually discussing tangible issues. It was a welcome break from delirious fantasy. Max felt compelled to react to the statement, but that small bit of acting was still a welcome shift from the state of panic he was in when he entered.

"Until further notice? But.. Peter said November?"

"Did he? That's an inofficial leak, then. Or maybe just a misinterpretation. I did tell one of the owners we might get a shot at November, but at this point, no promises are being made. Don't worry though, you are not being cancelled, and you wont run short on cash. I will make sure you have plenty of nuts when winter comes."

"That's... very kind, sir. But.. what are the reasons for this delay, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Well, officially we have quite a few new shows we're planning on airing, and it would be extremely hard to fit it all in. These new shows will shine some lights on important things; environmental issues, endangered species and the like. We're getting a whole lot more eco-friendly these days. Time to shift the focus."

"Mm... But I am just willing to bet my ass.. ehh sorry, I mean bet money that there's an inofficial story too, right?"

"Obviously there is more to it, yes. I can understand if you are feeling left out, but you are part of the reason I had to delay the shooting. I cannot have you doing shows at this moment, I might need you for something else."

"Like what?"

Dan formed a toothy grin, and suddenly he felt more predatorial, which Max did not like.

"You smelled terrified in that elevator, Max. It was no coincidence that I decided to go with you, and I am glad you saw what you did. Because you did *see* something, didn't you?"

Max' pulse skyrocketed. As if the room got smaller and smaller, he felt cramped. Suddenly his inner eye pictured a giant dinosaur prepared to jump him. Devour my flesh. Chew my bones, and ... He got up from the chair and went for the door. In fact, he ran for it. But it was locked. He began beating on it, to signal someone on the outside.

"Help!", he screamed and kept on beating. With a twist, he turned around and pressed his back against the wooden door, hoping for it to open at any second. He panted heavily and observed the calm Dan, sitting at his desk still, his hands connected as though he was praying.

"There is no point in doing that, Max. You will only work up your blood pressure, and it's not good for your health. Noone on the outside can hear us."

It had to have been a lie, but there wasn't a hint of it in his voice.

"What are you?"

"Are you accusing your boss of not being human? I would assume that normally calls for a very careful review regarding the subject's continued employment in the firm..."

"I hardly think that - "

"Relax. Sit down. Please". He waved his hand at the chair, motioning Max to regain his position in the seat opposite of Dan. Max felt hopelessness shower him. He couldn't flee. There was no point. As he walked over to the chair, he caught the scent of pine trees. It was most surreal. As he sat down and enjoyed a brief period of silence, Dan searched his drawers and eventually picked up a box.

"Look, Dan, or whatever your name is.. I - "

"It's Saerdan."

"Saerdan? Saer... An anagram? What's the point?"

"Few people are named Saerdan these days. I wanted to keep up-to-date. It's really beside the point. Would you care for a cuban?"

Max tensened his eyes, trying to decipher the meaning. He then noticed that the box was open, and cigars lay within. He reached over and took one. Dan swiftly brought up a lighter, and Max instinctively leaned forward. The cigar was soon lit and Max sat down to enjoy it. It was hard to act casual, but he somehow managed pretty well, in his own opinion. Saerdan closed the box and put it inside the drawer. "You must forgive me for not joining in. Never quite understood the charm of smoking".

"What do you want with me? Eat me?"

Saerdan began laughing. It wasn't a cruel laughter, it wasn't a laughter of mockery either. It felt very serene, in its own way. "Eat you? Oh no, dear Max. Certainly not. Tell me, what did you see? Why did you react the way you did?"

"I saw.. I don't know. I guess I don't think you're ... human." "Do you often see people that appear human, yet somehow make you feel deep down that they aren't?"

"No."

"Has it ever happened before?"

"... no."

Saerdan began shifting his weight around in the chair a bit, and he cracked his knuckles rhytmically. Then his neck. Then his back. He was clearly pondering something, and Max tried his best to look unaffected as he listened in on the various snaps and cracks produced by this strange man's joint manipulations. The cuban tasted exquisite, if nothing else.

"I wanted you to see what you did. I allowed it. Clearly, you are unusually talented for a human. There are less than a dozen on this Earth with your capacity, amongst your species. You should take pride in that"

"Then.. you admit you're not human? What are you?"

Observing the man leaning back into his chair and looking pleased, Max felt insecurity. The air was thicker again, rich on floral scents. It was once more reminiscent of a forest. The fabric on Saerdan's clothing stirred with tension, and something akin to a vague, translucent steam vibrated from his skin. It looked like a strange optic effect that Max couldn't quite place, but he believed it was a sign of relaxation. The man felt more loose, like he was somehow allowing the facade to falter. Max believed it could be another test.

"What do you think?"

It wasn't an easy question to answer, as Max hadn't experienced this sort of presence before. "I would instinctively say some kind of spirit, but unlike any I have encountered before. Perhaps a... demon? Of sorts?"

"Demon..", Saerdan snorted. "I frown upon that statement, though I cannot blame you. It must be confusing for you. I am certainly not a demon, although I might need to recruit you in an arrend that involves such beings". For a while, he relentlessly flailed his fingers in his interlocked hands, while observing Max deeply in his eyes. "Care for a second try?", he said after a while.

"I.. have no idea.. I saw something scaly and.. weird. Winged? No.. I don't know..."

"Be spontaneous. What is the first thing that pops into your mind?"

"Well, if I were to wager a guess.. uhmm.. I would say... dragon."

Saerdan smiled deeply. He was pleased. He rocked back and forth in his chair while closing his eyes in that odd smile of contentment.

"Dragon?"

"Exactly correct. You did well on that guess."

"But.. I didn't believe dragons existed. Well, at least not on this plane, physically."

"It is complicated, and sadly not even we are aware of how we came to be here. There are theories, of course.."

Max hadn't smoked the cigar for a while, and he took another blow from it. "So what's your plan? Infiltrate humanity in order to wipe us out or something?"

"No", Saerdan said. Suddenly he seemed almost hurt. "We are in fact here as guardians of this planet. We want to help all species co-exist. Granted, humans have made that task very hard for us, but we don't seek your extinction. We could, however, use your help. We are extremely few."

"You.. you don't mean to say you want my help in broadcasting your existence?"

"Certainly not! It has to be kept a secret. I know you have fans who believe in every word you say, but you must promise to not reveal this to anyone."

What a day... Max suddenly felt the weight of the world upon his shoulders. When he woke up this morning, he was upset about the fact that his furniture hadn't arrived. But now? Even before late afternoon he had discovered that his show was being delayed, and as if that wouldn't have been enough, it had been delayed because a dragon in human skin, no doubt part of a huge conspiracy, wants his help in fighting demons from other planes. What would he find out, come nighttime? He felt light-headed. His elbows fell upon the oaken desk, and he rested his aching forehead against the palms of his hands, hiding his face entirely. A moan slipped through the fingers, as he was grinding them thoroughly against his skin.

"I am sorry. All this must be a giant burdon for you to bear", Saerdan said. There was a lot of empathy in his dark voice.

"It's... unusual.. yes.."

"Do you think I am lying to you? Twisting your mind in order to obscure some deviant scheme? I suppose that what I am asking in short is; do you believe I am evil?"

Max squinted at the question, and somehow managed to dissolve all emotions as he focused, trying his best to tune in on the fluttering chaos of complex energies that swirled inside the man before him. Amongst all the things he could pick up, there was honestly not a hint of a threat. There was a lot of power though, and no doubt it would be easy enough for him to conceal his true intentions, should he want to. But for some reason, it felt as if he had his guard down, as if he wanted to show his inner self at its most vulnerable. Max just could not believe he was lying. I am going to gamble on this one, and just trust my feelings.

"No. I believe you telling me the truth. I am going to trust you on this. But.. can you trust me?"

"The others would think me a fool to do so, but I can afford a rich plethora of independent initiative at my old age."

The others...

".. I can see you're wondering about something?"

"Yes, how many of you are there?"

"We are not entirely sure. I haven't found more than just a bit over a dozen, in a few centuries. Some of us have decided to join together and work to meet out ends, finding more kin and the like...", Saerdan said. Then he added, with a grin; - "don't worry - we have no plans to hurt anyone that isn't one of us."

"You said you wanted my help?"

"I do. You get around more than I do, and I cannot risk being found out by ... the forces that be. But you... you have acute senses, and can probably scout the surroundings, focus on people; feel who isn't human. You found me out, so I am sure you can find a .. demon. Or whatever it may be. I have felt something, but sadly I am not sure what it is. And I dare not expose myself too openly in case I get detected myself, which I may already have been, if I am unlucky."

"So.. getting back to another, less intimidating subject, you said there were ... theories? About your kind being here?"

Saerdan looked a bit uncomfortable at this point, and started looking about, while correcting himself in his chair, exhaling deeply, like a troubled sigh. He obviously didn't enjoy speaking about things of which he wasn't certain. The air was misted by the cuban cigar, and Max decided to put it out. He pressed it against the ashtray, and let it go. The slight hiss of quenched fire attenuated bizarrely in the large room, and outside, the rain had started to batter against the windows.

"It has been said that we were originally of another world, another plane, but that we somehow found our way into this world. Evidently, we found a way to be made flesh, in case we weren't physical from the beginning."

"So why the human appearance? Why this .. camouflage?"

Saerdan closed his eyes and smiled.

"Ahh.. see, now things get tricky.."

Max leaned back on the chair, and found it to be rather relaxing. He believed it quite possible to fall asleep if the need would arise. Right at this point though, his ears were perched, his curiousity piqued. He wanted to know more about these strange creatures, that had become children of Earth.

"According to our lore, or rather - what lore we have been able to deduce from the distant voices of the ancients, we had many a millennia of peaceful adaptation to life on this planet. Everything was going smoothly until humanity decided that we were evil monsters that had to be killed. Superstitious thoughts drowned reason and logic, and while we had become victims to their weapons and hatred; we still refused to fight back. It was our oath, you see. To guard and protect. Not kill, for the sake of killing. This quickly became a problem, as so very few of us remained, eventually. It was then decided that we should perform a ritual. A magic ritual that would affect all dragonkind, over the whole of the planet."

Saerdan paused for a while, and sighed, once more. He looked out the window, into the distant horizon beyond the rain falling upon the buildings. He seemed to be lost in thoughts, but even as he stared, he continued.

"Sadly, it didn't go according to plan. Our goal was to make ourselves appear human, to the degree that our physical bodies would actually literally transform into those of humans, but always with the option of turning back, at will. The ritual, as you can see, worked amazingly well. The flipside however, was that we didn't expect the change to be so utterly and thoroughly profound to our psyche. We simply didn't take into account the pure shock of the experience. After the ritual had been performed, we were all rendered.. inept. We lost all memory and became disoriented, and wandered across the globe aimlessly, unable to function properly. Some were apparently composed enough to appear reasonably sane, and relatively well working individuals within society. But always, we would feel disconnected, unsure of our true nature. Most of us, though, were not so lucky. Some became so insane that they were incarcerated or killed. In some instances, some of the ones that humans believed had been killed, arose from their graves, or lived for a very long time in their incarceration, seemingly without aging. This is origin of many strange myths, like vampires and the undead. Those myths all stem from us. We are hardier than normal humans, you see, and we do not age in the same way. We even have methods of making ourselves younger, should we want to. In these bodies, that are so simplistic to us, we can last for extremely long through the aid of magic."

Max was spellbound by this new insight, and he realized his jaw had dropped, and that he was staring at Saerdan. I probably look like a goldfish, he thought to himself. With a subtle harkle, he regained his posture, trying his best to look unaffected. -"So, how did you come to realize what you were, and how did you survive?"

"My own story is largely drenched in darkness, I am not sure how long I have lived. It seems I have been walking Earth for ages and ages, but I only recall the period of time when I was 'awakened', as we call it. It was in scandinavia around the year 700- something."

"A viking dragon?"

"Well... that's a ... crude, but interesting way to look at it. I was certainly living amongst vikings, yes. I had an epiphany and managed to come to the realization I was a dragon trapped in a human's body. I then gained greater levels of consciousness and managed to liberate myself from all ties that had previously bound me, kept me locked down. I began searching for others. Very few have survived the teeth of time, though. There are so few of us left.."

"And how have you... ehmm... procreated?"

"Well, up until this point, it hasn't been organized. Supposedly, it is possible for us dragons to mate with other dragons, even if we are in human forms. But it is not possible for a dragon in human form to mate with humans, and have children as an outcome. But at best, we know little about these things. The way we do it now, when we mate, is that we transform into our real forms and... well.. "

"What a sight that must be...", Max interrupted, almost as a whisper to himself. Saerdan overheard it and grinned.

"I am sure it would make for interesting porn. It would probably sell quite well in Germany and in Japan, but what do I know?"

"Actually, I think it would be a huge success in any country.. lots of weirdos out there... ehh... no offense."

"None taken", Saerdan said. He had a strange, contemplative expression on his face as his hands were locked. It looked as if he was praying; fingers constantly batting each other rhytmically. Suddenly they stopped. Saerdan looked intensily at Max, and the silence was thick. Max began to let his eyes wander, in order to shirk the gaze. It made him feel uncomfortable. -"Would you like to see how we look?"

This prospect intrigued Max. He began to feel like a child, wanting to open a huge christmas present. "Yes, very much! You mean... right here and now?"

"Not exactly. We can enter astral realms while our bodies are asleep, and there we can function as though it was real. Your kind has limitations when it comes to traversing the astral planes, but for brief periods of time, you are still able to maneuver yourself fairly well .. not least when you have guidance. I can take you there, and show you how we look, should you want to?"

Max looked at the man. Dragon. Whatever he was. Saerdan. He then proceeded to look out the window. New York. He didn't hesitate, but still felt the need to try and be hesitant to the idea. This was an offer he couldn't refuse, but the safety of the gray city below somehow shone a light of caution in his eyes, as they reflected the vistas outside the wet window. He threw the notion away like a wind in the night. He returned to look at Saerdan and nodded.

Just like that, the eyes of the dragon appeared through the mask of the human body. Giant, green, piercing. The eyes invited the guest to a divine slumber. Max discovered the lure of the chair. It was indeed easy to fall asleep in its embrace. Should he allow himself to sleep?

Yes.

---

John was soaring in the astral skies. He had been flying all day, and so many days before that. He had become quite skilled, and could move with inestimable grace now, amongst the clouds. Cruising like a god in the torrents of winds. Saerdan was not here right now, he was at work. Human work. John knew his body was really lying in bed in that huge mansion, but this place here, is where he truly lived; as a dragon, in his self made world. But he missed his master. He was only truly happy when he was around, to talk about their history, what it means to be dragon, teach him new tricks and spells and ... to emanate that wonderous scent. John sighed and released his wings, leveling out neatly and opting instead to just hover solemnly above the waters beneath, as his thoughts were all about the majestic, green dragon he had fallen in love with. Head over heels.

It was strange to John, the concept of happiness. Yet here he was, and had it in abundance. From hopelessness to joy, in such a short span of time. It was surreal. But real. Yet without his green partner, the skies were so empty. How could he let him know what he felt? It wasn't just his hormones talking. For some reason, though, it seemed as if Saerdan deliberately kept a distance. Perhaps to appear professional and serious. But he needn't play that charade. John would listen no matter what. And he wanted him. Badly. He would do anything for him, and he wanted him to know that.

Lost in his thoughts, it took some time before he registered a sensation that felt alien. Something was trying to ... breach into my astral sleep? But.. it isn't Saerdan.. someone else? The feeling was odd, yet strangely appealing. As if a faint outline of a texture, or a contour, was orchestrating itself as both smell, tint and sound. Someone wanted to be allowed entry. A dragon. An unknown dragon. John tried to tune in on the individual, drifting like a ghost outside the confines of the spawned reality. He could pick up scents and images of the traveller now. He sniffed the air. Male, definitely. Red colors, lustrous body.. he is quite good looking. I will.. allow him entry, he appears to be friendly.

Breaking out of the clouds, suddenly real and in the flesh, a lightning-fast red dragon swirling amidst the sunrays of the setting sun. John laughed in ecstatic waves, as the dragon that flew before him started to perform tricks in the air; seemingly to entertain, or thank his host for being allowed entry. Sublime spins and loops replaced on another in quick turns, and the agility of this fantastic dragon impressed John infinitely much. He was slightly larger than John, but still considerably smaller in frame than Saerdan. John and this new dragon appeared to have more or less the same body type, being long and slender, graceful in the air. But it was clear that this dragon was far more skillful and experienced than John, which was hardly surprising.

"Who are you?", John shouted happily towards the visitor, who kept on spinning in the air.

Eventually, he settled, and banked to the side, placing himself on the right side of John in the air. He didn't fly too close. It was evident he didn't want to impose. Instead, he kept a solid speed, and looked at John with his gentle, albeit scarred face. His eyes were intelligent, and he seemed to ponder something.

"I am Arasas", said he. The wind howled in John's ear as they flew alongside each other. It was slightly hard for him to focus on the flying while simultaneously paying attention to the unspoken rules of social courtesy amongst dragons. John smiled uneasily and tried to look friendly, but it only seemed to make the other dragon perplexed.

"Ehh.. hello! I am glad to meet another dragon. I am .. new to all this. I suppose you could say I am 'awakened', as .. it's apparently called. My name ... oh... my name is sadly not as resplendant as yours, I am just called John"

"A name is a small thing to be concerned about. It is a label you are free to change, should you want to. Some of us find our names from within. Deep inside you, there is a forgotten language, almost like a song. It comes naturally to us all, but it is seldom found easily, as it hasn't been spoken since we roamed the Earth freely, and not merely confined to human vessels. Once you find that language within, though, it does not leave you. And only then will you be able to find a name that suits you. But until that day comes, have no worries. A name is, after all, just a name", Arasas said. His voice was calm and understanding, but at the same time it had a very rough and raspy character to it, full of strange friction; as if it had been worn down by a harsh and long life.

John smiled insecurely while the red dragon inspected him with scrutinizing eyes. There was no doubt that he was blatantly inspecting this new, blue dragon, and John couldn't help but nervously wondering if he 'passed the test'.

"You're Saerdan's youngling, aren't you?", he said with a slight hint of disdain in his voice. "I can feel his scent upon you..."

"Uhh.. yes! Saerdan helped.. actually, he saved me, I should say. Why, you know him?"

John noticed an awkward bitterness in Arasas expression, but as soon as he offered the question, the bitterness was traded with a confident, bordering on smug, smile.

"I certainly do. I used to be his student too, once. But he threw me aside, just like he will throw you aside one day too, when you fail to entertain his whims. Be on your guard. Never trust him"

John's heart turned to ice, for a brief moment. An unreal buoyancy made his head feel strange, as if his blood stopped pumping. Everything he knew, everything he felt - was it all for nothing, like so many times before? John was used to being let down, to have people around him betray him. But Saerdan... the nightmarish concept buried itself like a spike in John's mind, and prevented him from speaking. His flying became erratic, as he urgently tried to root himself in some comforting thoughts. Surely, it couldn't be true? This stranger, why would his words carry such weight? Still, there was something about the way he said it. Such conviction. John looked at the fellow dragon, and saw great compassion in his face. He seemed to display how well he knew that those words were hard to bear. He shook his head, ever so slightly.

"I am sorry to tell you this, youngling. I can tell it had a difficult impact on you... I too, was sorely wounded by his betrayal. I was his first, he said. In retrospect, I believe it was a lie...", Arasas said with a low voice, which was nearly drowned by the windy flight. John saw sorrow in his eyes, but felt compelled to learn more.

"What... did he do? How did you know him?"

"Like you, I was awakened by him. He came storming into my life, and carried me to new heights. But he always kept a distance to me, no matter how much I tried to make him understand what he meant to me."

"I... know what you mean."

Arasas looked searchingly at John for a while. "He will claim to have changed, you know. That much, I have learned. His philosophy, his outlook on life.. it has all changed. It is a sign of psychosis. His instability will be his downfall, and I would hate to see you plunge with him. What he taught me has been the pillar of my life, but he rejects the wisdom he once spread, these days."

With a worried glance over his shoulders, Arasas reaffirmed himself quickly, but his voice changed to that of someone in a hurry. "I cannot stay here for much longer, but I want you to consider what I have said. I will always be here for you. I can be a greater teacher to you than he ever will be. Don't let your feelings for him cloud your judgment. I must be off now, but... I will contact you again soon. Farewell, John. Until we meet again".

And just like that, he started to fade. His shape, now lucent and slowly vanishing, began to fly away from John. Still he kept his eyes on the startled pupil. And within a few seconds notice, he was entirely gone. Only his scent remained on the breeze, and John turned to catch more of it. He smelled so different from Saerdan. The master who quite possibly wasn't as perfect as John had thought him to be.

Suddenly a familiar presence whispered into the astral world. A voice, requesting entry. It was Saerdan. The odd timing felt like a mystery at first, but it struck him that Arasas must have felt this before it actually happened. I see.. Arasas knew he was coming, and fled before he could arrive. But I have to let him in, I have to speak with him about this, hear his side of the story.

John smiled hesitantly, and with a powerful gust of forceful winds, Saerdan appeared before John. His characteristic, heavy frame and the calm beating of his wings made John feel happy. Somehow, the rush of joy also made John feel a dash of guilt. He knew far too well that he was easily pleased by the lulling presence of his saviour. Perhaps too easily pleased, John thought to himself. He still felt unable to question Saerdan's proclaimed intentions, and his casual, but severely restrained love. Could Arasas be wrong? He had to have been.

"I am sorry for being late, John. I had a rather interesting day, though. I met with... ", Saerdan began. He interrupted himself as he settled in on a course at John's side, flying quietly while sniffing the air. "Something familiar.. have you had a visitor?"

"Ehmm.. yes. Another dragon".

"Really? You must tell me all about it."

"Maybe later. You had something you wanted to talk about?"

John expected Saerdan to be taken aback by the clear evasion of the subject, but instead it appeared as if he leapt at the chance to talk about his own matter at hand. Is he not concerned about the fact I had a visit from another dragon?

"I did something that might put me in a bit of a bad light amongst our kin today. I revealed myself to a human. I let him into my astral sleep and showed myself in my real form, and I also talked with him about our kind."

"You did what?!". John was shocked and confused. Saerdan only smiled, which made it all even more bewildering.

"I have planned it for some time. There is this ... gifted.. human. He could be of great use to us. You remember I talked to you about unseen enemies around me? He can help us find those enemies, infiltrate them. Find answers to questions I keep.."

"You already trust him that much?"

"Of course I don't entirely trust him yet. He is still in a state of shock, so I will give him the benefit of time and reflection. He is staying at our mansion now. His name is Max."

"Our mansion?"

"Of course. Everything I have, I have to share. With you."

John couldn't help feeling suspicious. What if it was all a lie? He had to change the subject.

"So.. what did he think about your appearance?"

"He was startled, naturally. But he quickly came to accept it. He said he thought I was quite beautiful, although he indicated it was purely on an aesthetic level", Saerdan said and grinned toothily. -"But enough of him, now. I have something to show you. Follow me".

Saerdan flew towards the sun, which had almost entirely sunk down beyond the seas in the horizon. The dark blue skies gained a strange, flaring shred at its very fabric, and a portal opened up. It was a link to Saerdan's portion of the astral planes, and like a projectile he passed through the portal, as did John. They both entered a freezing cold landscape. Snow tumbled down and covered the plains below, and strange huts painted themselves as large, clumsy structures of jagged wood as they flew them past in the night. John followed, as Saerdan swiftly rose in altitude, and set a course towards a nearby chain of mountains. He landed on a protruding, rocky plateau, overlooking the village and its adjacent river that trailed along silently, plucking the mirrored stars onto its watery surface and displaying them like shimmering and obscured diamonds. The moonlight boiled the snow covered soil in a diffuse glow, and the calm surroundings teemed. It was like a gorgeous painting. John couldn't help but stare at the scenery for the longest time, and Saerdan did not disturb the peace. He just lay there, like a foundation of protection, smiling secretly at the awestruck youngling.

"It is absolutely fantastic...", John eventually let out, still swelling with emotion.

Saerdan nodded, and glanced the village below. "Yes.. it certainly was. This is how it looked, where I grew up. Or rather, where I was awakened. This was my village. I used to go up here sometimes, even in my human form. It wasn't as easy of course, but I always found that it was worth the effort".

John looked at Saerdan. Intensily. It was so hard to shake the feelings he had for him. It was impossible to picture him as dishonest; as a traitor. Anxiety began to build up inside John. He knew he had to ask him.

"You know.. the dragon from before? The one that.. visited me?", John started; his heartbeats thumping soundly at his tensing chest.

"Mmm?"

"He said his name was Arasas, and he said he knew you..."

John expected.. well, actually, he didn't know what reaction he expected. All he knew is that he didn't expect the lack of reaction he got instead. Saerdan simply turned to look at John, and his eyes were indifferent. Totally indifferent. Did he not hear what I said?

"Ahh, Arasas. I knew the day would come. Maybe not this soon, but I knew it would come. I am glad you spoke with him. Maybe it was only briefly though. No doubt he took flight right before I showed up, did he not?"

"Ehh... yes?"

"Arasas... my cherished, committed Arasas... ", Saerdan said, clearly to himself. After a few seconds of mournful contemplation, Saerdan turned his attention to John, once more. -"He was my apprentice, as he no doubt told you. I am also sure that he told you not to trust me. That choice, I leave to you. I will not tell you what to think. But I *will* tell you what happened, if you would hear it?"

John afforded a nod, a quick one. His neck felt a bit stiff from the cold air, but it wasn't uncomfortable.

"Times were different back then. I ... was different". Saerdan looked almost angry as he reflected on the past, but he continued nonetheless. "It was during the 1700's. War plagued large portions of Europe, and I found Arasas in England. He was a stubborn youth, already back then. I initiated him, told him about our ways.. but sadly my perspective was polluted with hatred. He became my instrument of vengeance on humanity. I had seen so much darkness and hopelessness for so long that I had come to believe that total eradication of the species would be the only solution. I trained him. I trained him hard. I taught him to not feel, not show sympathy. I taught him that strength could only be seen in resolute discipline, and emotions were a weakness one could not afford to confront or show. And he was a good student, sadly.. he listened to my words like masses to a preacher. He became the ultimate soldier, my pride and joy. The first... " - Saerdan halted in his speech. Something unfathomably heavy seemed to burdon him, and he could not continue talking.

After a while, he collected himself, caught his breath. He reeked of stress, of sorrow. Undeniable sadness and guilt. "- The first few years, he had such trouble with my lessons. He had desires to be seen, to be loved. It was something that he had been denied his whole life, and I kept on perpetuating that terrible absence of recognition. My rewards came only when he learned to hide his emotions, or learned and performed new spells of destruction. My rewards were simple. I would just say 'well done', without emotion, and I would let him go to sleep early, instead of continuing his lessons."

Saerdan began to grind his teeth, with his eyes fixed on the rock-strewn ground before him. The memories clearly ached. "Some nights, he got up in the middle of the night, and he would sneak through the corridors, just to look into my room through the keyhole. He didn't realize that I knew what he was doing. I didn't have the will to punish him for it, even though I felt it was expected from me. I never showed him love. Never.. and it was all he wanted from me, and all he wanted to convey to me. I rejected it, taught him to disregard from such feelings, and he eventually did. By the time my lessons had become the blood in his veins, and the air that he breathed, he had grown cold... and hard as stone. The perfect student to the most imperfect philosophy. My greatest failure. My greatest regret."

Saerdan paused for a bit, tears streaming down his face. The dagger in his heart was clearly massive, and the emotional pain seemed to almost be physical. John didn't know what to do, what to say.

"Eventually, I realized I was hurting him.. hurting myself. I figured that there had to be another way. I left him, all on his own, claiming it was for his own good, that he would have to find his own strength. He was destroyed as I left him, yearning for companionship - and I left him in the shadows. I went far away, to meditate. A meditation that would last me nearly a hundred years..."

"The ... a hundred years?"

"Yes. In our astral sleep, our human bodies need practically no nourishment as you know, since our bodies are more or less entirely inactive. We are free to go into meditation, while in our astral form, nearly shutting ourselves down entirely even in the astral planes. It is a fantastic experience. You will feel the universes around you, and you tune in with .. everything. Including yourself. It can be a frightening thing of course, learning all that which you may not want to know. When I returned from my meditation, I didn't believe it had taken as long as it did. It was worth it though, and for a very special reason; I connected with someone as I was meditating. And even though there was no real communication between us, I had found a person that has become crucial to our cause. A dragoness in slumber. It was because of her that I returned to consciousness. I started working towards different ends. Instead of wiping out humanity, I would focus on finding dragons, finding those of our kind. I think that was the message she was giving me"

"Who is she? Do you know anything about her?"

Saerdan sighed and walked to the very edge of the cliff, staring out into the hours of darkness. He looked lost and confused, and the expression troubled John, at first. Then he was reminded of his own life. The fear of the unknown past and future; the constant battle of meaning attached to symbols and persons - the sheer struggle to make sense out of the inconceivable. Perhaps Saerdan was similar in many ways, maybe there were things not even he could explain. John wanted so badly to trust him, but his trust was expensive stock, and he would not handle someone using it recklessly. Would it be wise to let himself go? To just drop all doubt and .. make an effort to trust someone?

"I know close to nothing, but I felt safe and warm in the presence of her light. I saw images of her. A white dragoness. I simply call her the Sleeping Lady. She is ancient, to be sure, and still in her real form. I don't think she ever changed into a human, as if she was somehow excluded from the old ritual of transformation. That makes her... well, truly ancient indeed. I wished that she would have spoken with me, but for some reason she remained silent. It took me long enough to decipher her will, but in the end I believe it was made clear; gather our kind and live up to our purpose; be respectful, guard the planet and know no boundaries to love and harmony"

"So.. we're hippies?"

Saerdan froze and turned to John, which had up until this point never seen the green dragon look startled. But he sure did now, and it made John smile. Saerdan smiled in return and walked up closer to John. -"I suppose we are, smartass.."

"That's all right, you would look very cute with flowers and bead necklaces all over your scaly neck. Imagine what people would think if we landed in the middle of New York in dragon form, preaching messages of love and singing "we shall overcome".. "

Saerdan smiled, and seemed to feign a hurt look. "And here I was talking about serious issues.."

"Pfft.. fine. Let's get moody again. Drama, drama, drama..."

Saerdan kept his smile and tilted his head, looking at John from top to bottom, with a curious expression. It was clear he wasn't used to humorous talk. It struck John that perhaps he hadn't feigned the hurt look after all. John dropped the act, realizing it had been an inappropriate jest.

"So, what about Arasas, then? Did you find him once you came back from your meditation?"

"As painful as it was to find him in his shattered state, yes... but I could not convince him to join me. He had his own army going, and he's still very much recruiting. He is hell-bent on destroying humankind. I suppose that in his eyes, I have traded reason for insanity. I have tried to talk to him so many times, tell him how sorry I am, tell him how much I love him.. but it's so hard for him to accept. He refuses to believe me."

"I just can't believe that you've ever been a.. well.. piece of shit. I mean.. you're so damn kind and wonderful to me. I just can't get it around my head, seeing you as a cruel, violent person? No, I just... it doesn't add up."

"Makes me glad to hear, but at the same time; such was my past, and it lead to many unfortunate consequences. I am still paying for my stupidity. But the course of the future bends from our actions today. And you... you have choices to make aswell. I am actually glad you listened to Arasas. Perhaps you even agree with him. I am not trying to decide for you"

"So.. you would just give 'thumbs up' if I agreed to join him instead of you? You wouldn't be pissed at me?"

Saerdan shone a gentle smile, and his eyes were half closed. He looked like a proud parent, in some strange way. -"No, John. I would never judge you for your choices in life. In fact, I would prefer that you explore all your possibilities and potential paths. That way, you will have more certainty about the one you end up choosing."

John felt as if soft pillows choked his heart. Saerdan was so excruciatingly sweet. -"I have already chosen my path...", John said and pressed his snout against Saerdan's thick neck.

"Then.. you trust me?", said a surprised Saerdan.

John decided, at this point, to throw caution to the wind. To be reckless with his heart for once, and make a commitment of trust to someone else. Maybe it was all a big lie, but at this moment, John didn't care. He honestly didn't. He just smiled, and started to grind his face against the neck of his idol. -"Yes. I trust you", John said and sighed - ".. in fact, I love you."

"Love..", Saerdan said with a bemused tone of voice. It sounded as if he used a word he was afraid of using, even though he had spoken so warmly about it only a brief moment ago. Like a stranger, describing a foreign land he'd only heard about in fairy tales.

"Saerdan... "

"Hmm?"

"Why are you purposely keeping a distance?"

"What do you mean?", Saerdan said with an utterly confounded expression, while backing away from John. But John didn't let him get off the hook that easy. Instead he closed in on the big dragon as he backed away, preventing him from moving.

"Oh no, you don't..", John said and clasped around the dragon's upper body.

Saerdan looked very confused.

"Look, Saerdan...I know you've been afraid of showing emotions in the past. I also know you've changed your outlook on life. But it doesn't mean you're home just yet, does it? You're probably just as scared of being loved, as you are with loving another. But I am tired of the whole 'it's just hormones' bullshit that you dump on me, in order to avoid showing how you truly feel. I know exactly what I feel, and I can see in your eyes what you feel too. You're playing stoic and unreachable, but at the same time your eyes are screaming from a yearning of being unbound. Maybe it's time you liberate yourself, just as you have liberated me?"

Saerdan blinked, and stared at the youngling. His breathing was the only sound that could be heard, and suddenly it appeared loud for that very reason. He swallowed deeply, after a while. "You certainly have a way with words.. "

"And you certainly have a way with deeds. Rescuing young dragons from a life in darkness. That's what you do. You're my saviour.. my hero... my... ", John began. Then an amused expression fell over his face, while Saerdan simply looked speechless. -".. my ... lover?"

"Lover?"

"Yeah.. how about we add that word to the list of the things you are to me?", John said and pressed his head against Saerdan's.

"Do you... do you really want to? What if.. I mean, we don't know what.. -"

"- I have never in my life wanted anything more. And to a scenery like this? Who, in their right mind, could ever say no to something like that?", grinned John. "And who knows, maybe some human boy lies sleeping in that dream village down there, and wakes up in the middle of the night? What if he goes out of his hut, sets his feet into the snowy wastes, and raises his head towards the mountains, and watches us make love in the moonlight? Can you imagine what that must be like, for him to see that? Would you deny him that? Would you deny me that? I pretty much feel like that boy, and all this... it still feels a bit like a dream, even though I know it's real".

John looked at Saerdan. It was easy to tell he was still hesitant, maybe even apprehensive. "Look I know that you don't want to promise anything, and I know you're afraid of hurting me, cause we don't know what the future holds. But I would rather have us care about each other, and not be afraid to love one another, because at least then our potential loss will have meaning. I want us to make love tonight, Saerdan. Because that's what it will be: Love. Not just sex. I care for you so fucking much it hurts me, and I want to give myself to you. Please.... take me. I am yours."

Saerdan's eyes glazed over with a misty coat, and the smile was twisted and strange, but very earnest and peaceful. "Then you are mine, but only if I am also yours. To the end of time and beyond..", Saerdan said and pushed John to the ground with one mighty shove of his snout.

John tripped over and snickered at the impulsive move. He sprawled out on the ground, looking up at the magnificent dragon, and their smiles met in unison with the glow of the distant moon, radiating thick outlines of white across the muscular body of the green dragon. "It's a deal.. you're mine. I'm yours", John said, barely able to contain his emotional turmoil from unfolding to unbridles chaos.

The trembling nighttime air, almost tepid from the lusting fumes of the male dragons, soothingly stirred the tension between them, and carried scents of passion on its indiscernible wings. John flared up his nostrils and dragged it all in. Saerdan's scent had changed quite a lot. He was clearly getting aroused. He just stood there though, looking down at his eagerly awaiting recipient. He seemed like an elegant warrior in the shade of night, cloaked by a mysterious gloom. He moved slightly as he breathed, and kept his eyes locked on John's. -"You're beautiful", he suddenly said. John did not know what to reply. He just fell silent, and kept on looking.

John noticed Saerdan's breathing getting heavier, his eyes getting dreamier, his fragrance getting more intense. As John looked over the massive body, his eyes soon came to rest on the animated bulge between Saerdan's strapping thighs. His tail trailed off behind him, as he was sitting down on his hind legs, and the intricate pattern of scales on his belly shifted, as they made way for something that began to slip out from within. John had tasted it once before, and the familiar smell reproduced in the dense air. It spoke promises of a flavor he had previously been interrupted from enjoying, but could finally be blessed with now.

And then he saw it, the slit opened up slightly, and Saerdan's penis throbbed as it more or less poured out, in a slowly stiffening motion. It glistened so lucidly, with veins setting thick courses across its length. John felt an overwhelming desire to taste it. Suck it. Please it. He wanted nothing more than to see Saerdan spray his seed in lustful bliss. To share an orgasm with the love of his life. John felt light headed from his desires, and began to crawl over towards the giant dragon, who patiently stood still with a look of passionate longing on his face.

John was there now, with his head nearly at the ground, looking up and into his masters eyes. On both his sides, the ferociously massive pillars of scaly flesh; the powerful thighs with their giant muscles nearly encasing John's world. He kissed the thighs, and licked along their forms as he moaned with pleasure of having his masters taste on his tongue - a tongue that did not deserve this divinity, but was still granted it. Saerdan shivered with pleasure, and released a tranquil sigh. He was pleased with the treatment, and his swelling penis tensioned from excitement, almost making it whip the belly from jerking spasms. It had begun to leak its juices of pre-cum, trickling down like rivers along its shaft. The aroma drove John insane, more or less, and there was no way he could neglect to ease the burdon of his master. Give him release. With a drugged, lethargic fanaticism, John wanted deliverance. "Can I taste it? Please?"

"Please... go ahead my... my love.. suck it.. ", Saerdan said, clearly exhilarated with lust.

John opened his muzzle, and licked the pre from the base, all the way up to the tip. He then swallowed the twitching mass, and let it fill his gaping mouth. He could feel it throbbing with every heartbeat, and he applied pressure to his sucking, in order to milk it of its sweet fluids; tasting it with delight. A deep murmuring sound, almost like a buried rumble of sleeping gods, resonated firmly from Saerdan. John noticed how his master pressed his feet against the ground, his legs expanding in width from the effort, as he seemed to attempt pushing them deep into the Earth. John kept sucking, and with one of his draconic forepaws, he began to feel up on the area below the base of the slit. He felt the testicles, and gently began to cup them, kneading them carefully, as the bobbing motions of his busy head continued. The sweet, musky smell of maleness thickened and grew stronger from the attention that the member and the holy orbs received, and the panting settled in on a steady rhythm.

It soon dawned on John that it was a wholly different experience to perform a blowjob on another dragon, and not least as a dragon. The situation ought to have felt remotely familiar, but as it were, it felt new. As if he was exploring his sexuality for the first time, and of course, in a sense he was. This is how it was supposed to be. It felt natural and meaningful. That, too, was unfamiliar to John.

Saerdan was getting almost uncontrollably excited from the extensive sucking, and his thrusting had begun to overpower John's capacity to maintain the swelling girth safely in his jaws. He did not want to risk the fantastic, life-giving organ to chafe or get cut against razor sharp teeth. John opened his muzzle wider instead, and used his tongue to slither around the length, like a vine branch entwined around a massive twig. He pulled his tongue backwards, making it strain around the large form, like a lasso tightening around a neck. Saerdan let something akin to a deep roar resound, and it attenuated across the landscape. His pleasure was bordering on madness, as it seemed. John couldn't believe how incredibly massive the cock truly was, nor how it could have such an addictive taste. But keeping it in his mouth and throat had started to become a hassle. All the pre-cum had made everything slippery. The shaft felt too big, and Saerdan was too strong, too eager. Even disregarding those facts, John wanted Saerdan inside in a different sense. He wanted to be mounted. The notion overwhelmed him as soon as it had entered his mind, and he couldn't risk letting his master discharge his load just yet.

John let Saerdan's pride slip out of his muzzle, and although the member was still bulging and thrashing about from his burning sex drive, Saerdan was remarkably contained as far as his demeanor was concerned. John looked at him and tried to speak, but Saerdan was already in his face, licking him thoroughly. John snickered some at the attention his face got, and didn't manage to get a single word out.

"Sweet, sweet youngling...", Saerdan suddenly said. "You've given me such pleasure, such love... now let me be the lover.."

"Yes.. I want you to enter me.. please, I want you inside me.. ", John replied, barely able to verbalize his desire, the hunger for Saerdan's love had begun to rise from the entity of hunger itself, as if the gods of love had broken free from the altar. As if lust reigned the stars above, and dug songs of its secret formula of creation into the lowly heart of a soul yearning to explode from its passionate clutches. Nothing made sense anymore in John's mind. He had found the love of his life. The memories of his old view on love had deteriorated into nothingness. Atrophied into dust. It was a cold and dead thing, and now - he felt only alive.

Like in a dream, he turned away from Saerdan briefly, only to reveal his backside at the great dragon. But not even as he turned, was he alone. Saerdan's heavy head lay against John's cheek, guiding him around, gentle as a breeze. John was hardening real fast, since he knew what was to come. Still a bit clumsy from the adrenaline rush caused by all his expectations, he accidentally stumbled forward, landing obtusely on his belly. He was on the ground, laughing. It was all as if he was in a strange daze. But even at this point, Saerdan's benevolent face remained at his side, watching him. Making sure he wasn't hurt from the fall. No words were needed, he just watched his youngling with care, and it was evident. Plain as day.

John stopped laughing, and instead just looked into the warm eyes of Saerdan. There was no room for jesting, no room for any humorous comments or constipated jokes. He looked into something that stretched beyond all the bedside manners of his customers. This was not a sexual situation that he had ever been in before. No drunken playtime sessions with wacked-out patrons. At first, John did not even understand what Saerdan conveyed with his eyes. It was like an alien language. He knew it was important. He knew it was full of soul, he just couldn't understand that it was directed towards him. John felt his own eyes tearing up from the gravity of the look he had seen replicate in those big, green eyes. The promises of endless safety, constant protection. And love in abundance. Saerdan placed his gentle snout against John's, in a serene caress. The motion, the gesture, it spelled reciprocation. Partnership. Between two lovers. "Don't worry, it wont hurt... I love you".

"I love you too.. ", slipped from trembling lips. John felt the body of the huge, green dragon coming in close, hovering around and above him. Its warmth radiating onto his skin. It was like a compressed space that John felt like an entropy, closing in on him, until it would inevitably connect. Body against body, soul against soul. Saerdan's warmth leaked out from within, to the very end of his scales. It then passed through them, and into John, who felt like he was wrapped in the lava of a welcoming volcano. The yearning had finally become something bearable, because they shared the passion. John was under the guidance of his master now, and he desperately wanted him to enter. John tried to look back, but it was hard; as Saerdan's weight began to press him against the ground, albeit gently, it became slightly difficult to maneuver his head. He managed to get a glimpse of the giant green body as he turned laboriously, but a giant foreleg obscured his view somewhat. Not that the foreleg was in any way a disappointing sight.

But there - a glance. John saw the magnificent penis, way back near his own tail. Saerdan was trying to steer it in. In an attempt to make it easier, John raised his tail. Saerdan helped to lift the heavy, thick tail into the air, and he then placed it by his side, but not before running one of his forepaws across its shape, massaging it. John moaned loudly. It felt so good. He noticed that Saerdan leaned forward, but he had no clue why. Not until he felt a wet, warm presence. It was dripping - no, filling into his cavity below his tail. It was Saerdan that had let his tongue carefully lick around the swelling bulge surrounding the anus. He kept on doing so until John eased up, and his hole widened up enough.

John then felt the warm, soaking wet tongue enter him, like a lovers kiss. It was insanely nice. John nearly cried out from sheer satisfaction. Saerdan kept on pressing his tongue deeper into the helplessly dismantled dragon, while simultaneously rubbing along the tenaciously trembling tail. Dragon paws rubbing hard into pure tail muscles. As his tail softened from the pressure that was applied in beguiling, and gradually intensifying waves, the anal cavity loosened even more, much like the rest of his body, until he was like a numb ragdoll, stretched against the rock hard ground, just moaning with delight. The magical movements of the tongue sent shivers of ecstasy all over John's body. It felt like stars disintegrated inside him, and reproduced as sensations of the divine. He could even feel his prostate being stimulated, and he suddenly realized he was fully erect. His swollen penis was grinding against the ground beneath his impressive weight. As his body moved from the stimulation he received from behind, the member stroked itself automatically, caught between the pebbled soil and himself. The sensation was indescribable. It was an experience that came without a dictionary, without a possibility to describe its nature.

"I think you're ready now..", Saerdan said. His tongue was obviously free, but John hadn't noticed as he had nearly passed out from the pleasure. All he knew is that he wanted the big dragon to continue doing what he had been doing. Looking back at him, he realized that Saerdan was preparing to mount, and John held his breath, ready to receive. In his ear, a soft whisper - "It is going to be ok.. just relax, my love". John closed his eyes, and willed his body to become as pliable as possible. Within a short moment, he could feel the warm, fleshy tip brushing at the edge of his soon-to-be point of entry. He became aware of its stickiness, with full knowledge of what made it so deliciously slimy and warm. He couldn't wait to have it inside him. Just thinking about it made him push up against the cock, whining impatiently as he did so. Soon he would have it; the lifegiving milk from the most profoundly beautiful male in history would swim inside him. It was more than he felt he could ever deserve, but he would not decline the offer. He could kill for it, but he needn't even do that. He needn't do anything except just...

Suddenly he could feel Saerdan slipping inside. The consistency of his penis was a mixture of hard and flexible, and it was drenched in an abundance of pre-cum and saliva. It travelled smoothly into John's body, sliding like a soft snake of devotion. The situation felt sacred; untouchable in its sheer purity and power. What was inside him was the holiest thing he could think of, the grandest thing he knew. The physical pinnacle of the being he adored and worshipped had expanded and entered him.

"Are you ok? Does it hurt?", Saerdan asked in a worried tone of voice. There was a hint of fatigue, or perhaps just lust. Hard to tell. John wondered if his master had gone insane. Am I ok? This is the best moment of my life!

"It's wonderful, I love you so much, my great master. Please cum inside me, please.. I want your seed in me..", John mustered forth, trying to keep his eyes open. The eyelids fluttered from the impressions, and his glazing eyes was a dead giveaway; he was on the brink of his own release. His belly was wet from his own pre-cum, and his member kept stroking with every beat of his speeding heart. The friction from the weight of his body and the support of the ground made the sensation very much like penetrating someone, and Saerdan's penis stimulated him so well inside, the prostate was reduced to a whimpering breaking point in a sea of desire.

Saerdan had managed to slide his entire length into John, and he had done so gently. Now he began to retract it, almost equally gently. It was teasing for John, who began to whine louder, hoping that Saerdan would understand. He did. With a mighty thrust, he was fully inside once more, and he began to fuck John in a steady rhythm. With increasing force and speed, he began to pound his tubular shaft even harder into John, who began to push his front legs against the ground, so as to parry the pressure from behind. Meanwhile, he also thrusted his own hips, using his powerful legs to grind his cock against the ground. Saerdan panted heavily, and his pushes gradually became more and more unrestrained. The pressure inside John felt amazingly wonderful, but at the same time strange. John realized that while he had lots of sexual experience from before, his dragon body had absolutely no experiences at all. In a sense, he had been a virgin up until this point.

John could no longer maintain his blocking of the ground, and he began to cavort forward from the voracious pounding he received. The sheer strength that Saerdan displayed was daunting, and John almost began to feel fear when he heard a gargantuan roar plummet into the air. It came from the very depths of his masters belly.

Saerdan's majestic penis, with its size and stout hardiness at its maximum, climaxed with an unreal thrust. John felt the fumingly warm sperm flood into him, and Saerdan frantically gripped John's sides, claws digging into the flesh, and paws shaking spastically as he emptied his load. John could feel how most of it halted inside him and returned, leaking out from his hole. The sound of seed splashing against ground made him realize what copious amounts it must have been. John's own excitement was at its peak, and with a few chaotic and unbalanced thrusts, he strived to milk himself dry against the ground. His hind legs fumbled as they tried to find stability in the ground, but through sheer willpower he managed to direct a lot of power forward. He could feel the slowly limping penis inside him beginning to slide out, but John was still hard as diamond; eager as the sun.

Suddenly it came to him like a wave crashing against a lighthouse; the impending release. John roared as the cacophony of pleasure became too much to contain. His seed catapulted out from his stiff, yearning penis. He pumped and thrust with his whole body, instinctively, as he drained himself of his male liquid, thoughts reduced to a primal craving. The prodding motions eventually saw a decline in pace and power, as he unleashed it all on the ground. Moments later, with a loud slopping sound, he felt and heard how Saerdan's organ slipped out. As he climbed off of John, his weight temporarily became a pleasant burdon. Saerdan sighed and grunted as he stepped clumsily all over John's back, and eventually he slumped down on the ground right next to the drained student, who also toppled over and crash-landed, totally exhausted.

John panted, and sweated profusely. Front paws against ground, he pushed himself back, and then he turned his weight to the side, flipping over to face Saerdan. They were now lying side by side, facing each other, but John was slightly below head level, instead facing the chest of his master. With a few improvised jolts, he managed to hop his body into a more comfortable position, and was now able to sink his head towards Saerdan's sex. With gusto, he licked and sucked the penis, tasting the cum of his lord, his god. Cleaning his cock with eager tongue. Drying it, soaking up what remained. The tip of it was jerking from the touch of the tongue, and while still massive, the penis slowly began to shrink, drained of its fluids. Saerdan squirmed at the treatment, and somberly chuckled a bit at the tickly sensation that reverberated all over his sensitive organ. When John was done, Saerdan sighed with relief. John was more than content too, and barely had the strength to move. "Come here, please.. ", said Saerdan, and with that; John found strength anew. He climbed the horizontal wall in order to level with his master, and once he did, they lay in front of each other.

John looked into the moonlit eyes of his saviour. The scales on his head were like hills of a promised land, where the roads would take him to a new tomorrow. An endless journey of everlasting joy. He would always be protected by his loving god, who shone like a thousand supernovas as he smiled at his student, who had now been introduced to what dragon love entails, in all its boundless glory.

"This night is ours, and we are as one. For as long as our hearts shall beat, I will be your shield. I will protect you. John, I ... I promise to never leave you... and I will never stop loving you", Saerdan said.

"Perhaps you will protect me even beyond this life? What about the next ones to come? Do you promise to protect me in those too?", John said. There was only a hint of sarcasm in his voice. In truth he was hoping for it.

"As the stars are our witnesses, I will...", Saerdan said, and he appeared to be dead serious.

"Then I promise to one day try and pluck them down from the sky, and give them to you", John drowzily replied with a smile. Saerdan turned to look at him, and returned the smile.

John was overwhelmed, and started to cry silently. His tears distorted the draconic face of his lover before he found the black grip of slumber creeping in, slowly placing its blanket upon his world. As he began to slip into unconsciousness, he felt Saerdan hold him in his cradling arms, and he felt how Saerdan's wings gave him added comfort and warmth. He was cocooned in the embrace of love. He had never felt this safe before.

Safe in the arms of a huge, green dragon, who's name was Saerdan.