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It was the middle of the tourney and here Sir Brice was pulled away from it, to be chided out of sight in some tucked away tent by some woman he barely knew. She stood before him, arms folded over her large chest, as she berated him in a tone that could surely be heard outside of the tent.

"It's your duty, Brice," she said. "Your duty! Don't you understand that?"

"My duty is to protect king and crown," he grumbled, also folding his arms across his armor plated chest. "I have better things to do than..." He frowned. "Foster children."

"But that is your duty!" the woman growled. "You have royal blood that must be passed along. You could have heirs! Your children could become something greater than..." She sneered. "A man who waves metal around."

"A man who waves metal around?" Sir Brice scoffed. "I do much more than that! Who do you think is keeping the goblins and trolls in their lairs? Dissuading dragons from stealing fair maidens? Children are a burden for a warrior such as I!"

"But there will be no more warriors such as you if you go around gallivanting!" the woman groaned. "No more of our family! Don't you care about our name?"

"Our name? Oh." Sir Brice blinked. "Are we related?" He looked over the woman and shivered. "I hope not."

"I'm your cousin!" The woman shrieked. "Your only surviving relative?"

"Oh. Huh." Sir Brice scratched his chin, then smiled. "So why is this burden all on me then?" He motioned towards his cousin. "It looks like those hips could bear some children. Maybe it's me who should be telling you to do your duty!

"I have!" His cousin said. "But our bloodline is still too thin and--"

"And I don't care," Sir Brice said. "You have the children, and I'll do the important deeds. I'll be the one remembered for slaying a true dragon, while no one will remember a woman who had seven children. Now, I have a tourney to return to. You can go back to your diapers and bawling babies."

Sir Brice smirked as he saw his cousin's face begin to twist into one of rage, but he was already leaving. He stepped out of the tent just as she got out her first incoherent stream of screaming speech, and her rage only caused his smile to widen, as what few others were in this section of the tourney tents looked over towards him with alarm. He walked past them, mere peasants and squires that they were, because he had already wasted enough time today.

"Children..." he chuckled, staring at the ground as he went over his cousin's words. He was already beginning to dismiss the whole encounter as some sort of joke, for what else could it be? If Sir Brice didn't have time for the common folk, then he certainly didn't have time for children!

"Children?" he heard someone say nearby in a voice feminine and yet...whinnying?

Sir Brice frowned and came to a stop. He looked up and then took a surprised step back, for in front of him was a tall, well endowed horsewoman. She wore regal silks, her top a well stitched corset that allowed easy viewing of her ample cleavage and a short skirt that did more to show off her fine figure than hide it as the expensive fabrics usually did. Her feet, humanoid despite her mostly equine appearance, were unclothed. He blinked and looked back up at her, past her big bosom, to see that she stared down at him with her long face with a thoughtful expression, at least until she whinnied out a laugh and clapped her hands together.

"Oh, I agree!" she said. "You'd make a great mother!"

"Excuse me?" Sir Brice said. "I'm--"

"A little skinny," the mare said, frowning as she looked over his armored form. "We'll have to work on that."

"Skinny!" Sir Brice scoffed. "I've trained long and hard to hone a body that's--"

"Not too good for carrying babies," the mare murmured, tilted her head. She smiled and her eyes lit up. "No, eggies!"

"Um--" Sir Brice looked around, trying to find someone that could help him out here, but there were only peasants around, and they scuttled away from him at his glance. It wasn't so much that the horsewoman was strange, since there were certainly other beastpeople at the tourney, but her words were those of a madman, or madwoman as it were. He frowned. Well, he had just dealt with another hysterical woman recently, why not two in one day?

"Milady," Sir Brice said. "Please step out of the way. I have no time for--"

"Children?" The mare's eyes still gleamed. "I heard, but I have to disagree. Like I said, you'd make a great mother. No..." Her smiled deepened. "You will."

Sir Brice frowned, hand going for his sword. He didn't intend to draw it from its scabbard, but he hoped the motion would be enough to dissuade the mad mare from saying any more. Instead, she laughed and actually started forward. Sir Brice was so surprised that before he knew it, she had placed her fingers around his hips. He yelped and tried to push her hands away, but she was stronger than him! He hadn't expected that. Sure, she was taller, but she was still a woman!

"Madwoman," Sir Brice growled. "Out of my way!"

"Madwoman? I have a name, you know. It's Avinete. But enough about me..." the mare said, eyes going over his form. "Hmm, we'll have to do something about this armor. Not enough room for the belly or boobs!"

"What are you--" Sir Brice began, his eyes widening and the rest of his words tumbling out of his mouth into empty silence as his armor shimmered and then dissolved entirely, leaving him only in his underwear. He looked around, but there was no one close by, just distant tourney workers who apparently had other things to care about than a mare magically unclothing a man.

"Oh goodie!" Avinete laughed. "Now I can get to work!"

"Unhand me!" Sir Brice demanded, but the mare ignored him.

"Hmm," the mare murmured. "Now what to do with you?"

"Let me go?" Sir Brice suggested.

Avinete whinnied and shook her head. "No. Not until you're properly pregnant."

"P-pregnant?" Sir Brice stuttered.

"Uh-huh!" Avinete said with a nod. "But that's not it. I mean, you have to be a girl first, obviously, but not just a girl. I just don't...." Her eyes lit up again. "Oh! I know! A dragon, since you seem to like them a lot!"

"You're mad!" Sir Brice said, still struggling. "I demand you unhand me!"

"You can't demand anything, dear," Avinete said with a giggle. "The scales have already started!"

"Scales?" Sir Brice questioned, but then he began to feel an itch. He glanced down away from the mare and gasped. Purplish-pink scales were crawling over his skin, spreading and subsuming any hair it came across. Although he could scarcely believe his eyes, he could certainly believe it happening.

"A nice shade," Avinete said. "But while those are getting rid of that boring skin, let's work on these hips!"

The mare pulled at his hips, and the knight yelped as he heard a rather loud snap and pop. He looked down to his hips and stared in shock at how wide they had become, far wider than his shoulders, in fact so wide that his underwear had begun to slip down his increasingly scaled legs. He reached his hands to catch it, but it was Avinete who caught his hands instead.

"Hey!" he said, shivering as he felt the scales continue to spread over his body.

"What?" Avinete said. "Are you going to demand I unhand you?" She giggled and stared at his scaled covered hands with interest. "No, these cuties need some work."

Sir Brice was mortified when Avinete tugged his arms and placed them on her breasts. He gasped and froze, uncaring even as his underwear slipped down his scaly legs to rest around his feet. He stared at his hands and their position and then, without meaning to, squeezed. Avinete shivered and moaned, and Sir Brice meant to pull his hands away then, but Avinete still held onto them tightly. He struggled and shortly stopped as he saw his rough hands thin, his nails growing out into pink claws as his fingers became long and dainty. He gasped when he saw this change spread down his arms, the once muscular limbs fading into a shape that was a little more lithe, at least until some fat filled in, rendering them with a slight bit of chubbiness. Seeing this, Sir Brice struggled once more, but his strength had been reduced. Still, he did not have to struggle for long as the mare let his hands go. He was so surprised that they fell and hung by his sides uselessly as he stared at Avinete in shock.

"Thanks for that, sweetie!" Avinete said. "The girls do love a good squeeze! Now, back to business! Those legs, those thighs, that waist... they need to match your arms, right?"

Sir Brice shook his head and felt something fall away. He frowned and reached up with his slim arms, claws digging through his scalp and pulling away to find handfuls of his hair in his dainty palms.

"No!" he said, stepping back, only making it a few steps as he wobbled unsteadily on his legs. He looked down at them and frowned, wondering what the problem was until he saw his five toes merging into three talons while his purple-pink scaled legs themselves were growing a bit longer and thinner, muscle wasting away as gentle fat took it place. At the same time, he felt the air rush out of his lungs as his waist compressed, lending him a waspy waist even as the scales ran over his torso, wasting away muscle in favor of relatively smoothly scaled stomach with a dash of purple-pink plumpness. Sir Brice was upset enough about this until he felt his thighs pushed together. He gasped and set his legs apart while his thighs grew in thicker and plumper, his manhood looking out of place on his increasingly feminine frame. Then he heard and felt a snap, and he cried out as he fell back, landing on his rear. Wondering what the problem was, he spread his legs and saw that his feet had altered somehow so that his heels were more lifted up so that he would walk on his toes instead.

"Oh dear!" Avinete said, hurrying over to him. She bent down and smiled. "Quite the fall! Don't worry, we'll give you some cushioning for the future!"

Sir Brice wanted to ask her what she meant, but then he felt himself rise from the ground. No, that wasn't quite right. He looked over his thinning shoulders and blinked when he saw his exposed, scaly rear plumping up into a pear shaped posterior, round and plump and missing its usual muscled tone. Worse, he felt something tug at the base of his spine, and then he saw the beginnings of a thick, chubby tail start to push itself out above his rear. Unable to bear the sight of his declining humanity, he looked away and back to Avinete to see the mare standing before him with a grin on her equine face, though she wasn't looking at him; rather, at a part of him. He followed her gaze and saw that she was staring at his crotch.

"What's this thing?" she said and then poked his penis. He squawked and covered it up, awkwardly scooting away on a rear that felt too plush and pillowy while he also tried to ignore the sensations of the spreading scales that had finally reached his face and the tugging of his thick tail's growth. He tried to respond to the mare's words with anger, but any words he meant to say were lost as his face abruptly pushed out. He reached up and grabbed at it, only succeeded in feeling his growing muzzle push away his hands as it quickly pressed out into a draconic snout. He blinked, the last of his hair falling away as he stared at the purplish-pink protrusion that was now permanently part of his vision. With shaking hands, he examined it with his hand, feeling how his nose had become two mere slits. He opened his mouth just as his teeth sharpened into fine points, his tongue flicking out as it lengthened and thinned before forking at the end. He blinked, his eyes going watery momentarily as they shifted from brown human pupils into pink pupils, slitted like a reptile, a reptile that he had become, a reptile that he now was. He blinked again and ran his hands up the rest of his head until they came to his ears, or really, the small hearing holes hidden under his frills. He blinked for the third time, realizing he had become a dragon. Not a true one, but close enough. He looked to Avinete.

"Y-you," he stuttered in a voice that rasped and hissed slightly, rising with every cough and hiss as his Adam's apple shrank away into nothingness. "You--"

"Never answered my question," Avinete said, still staring pointedly at his crotch. "Is that really yours?"

"Yes, but--"

"Utterly average," Avinete sighed, but smiled anyways. "Oh well. You won't miss it."

"Wait, don't--" Sir Brice began, cut off as he felt a stirring in his loins. He looked down and watched as his manhood hardened, but then it began to wilt, shrinking down as his testicles pulled tightly against his crotch. He whimpered and shivered, feeling as his tail grew out to the finality of its long, thick length just as his shaft began its withdrawal. He cried out and reached for it with his claws, but he ended up grasping at air as it disappeared with a surprisingly pleasurable slurp that caused him to moan and rub his thick thighs together. Realizing what he was doing, he pulled his hands away and stared in mute horror as what once was his manhood reformed into the perfect feminine flower, a purple lipped scaled cleft with an almost prettily pink nubby little clit at its top. She shivered as she felt her inner passage burrow deep, inner walls already a little wet and ready, as a womb formed inside her. Sir Brice gasped, realizing that she had just been rendered a female.

"Oh, that's cute!" Avinete said. "You're already a little wet!"

Sir Brice wanted to deny this, but it was in fact quite true. She blushed as she saw her slit was a bit moist, and she was curious, so she brought a claw towards it before she realized what she was doing. She frowned and finally felt anger surge through her, smoke starting to spiral out of her nostrils. The new dragoness looked to the mare, but Avinete was once more not interested in her, but at her, notably her chest. Sir Brice covered it up by folding his arms over it, but squirmed as her scaled arms rubbed against her pleasantly pink nipples. Had they always been so sensitive? Still, she frowned and stared at Avinete until the mare seemed to detect her gaze, looking to the dragoness.

"Why so upset?" Avinete said. "You haven't even seen your tits!"

"I don't want to see my tits!" Sir Brice said. "Change me back!"

"No," the mare said. "And for that, I'm making them a bit bigger! Got to feed the babies, after all!"

Before Sir Brice could respond, she felt her arms pushing away her chest. She glanced down and hissed as she saw scaled flesh beneath her nipples gather together, swiftly shaping into small, swollen mounds. They didn't stay small for long, swiftly swelling with every passing second even as Sir Brice tried to contain them, but her efforts seemed to only encourage their growth, the nascent breasts going from beestung irritations to actual handfuls, their heft and weight very real on the former knight's chest. Again, Sir Brice couldn't help but squeeze, this time her own breasts, and she was rewarded with both pain and pleasure as her claws dug into the soft scales along with an electric sensation down below. Realizing what she was doing, the dragoness let go of her breasts but still shivered as they bounced. She stared at her fat tits in disbelief, hissing in distress as they swelled a little larger, suddenly heavier and weightier as if they were filled with something. Experimentally, she pinched a nipple with a claw and gasped as a white liquid squirted out.

"That's..." Sir Brice blinked. "That's milk."

"Yes!" Avinete crowed. "For the babies! Haven't you been listening?"

"B-babies?" Sir Brice stuttered.

"Well, eggies," Avinete giggled. "I think....four of them!"

"No!" Sir Brice hissed.

"No? More? Ok, seven then!"

"No, I--" Sir Brice started, hissing, and eyes widening as her stomach unexpectedly gurgled and churned. No, not her stomach--her womb, which now felt so warm and ready. She stared in mute horror at her stomach started to swell.

"No again? My, you've really taken to this motherhood! Normally I don't let anyone change my mind, but more might be better here, so...eleven!"

Sir Brice shivered, thick tail swaying behind her as her stomach steadily progressed from a barely noticeable swell to an apparent baby bump to a swollen state that certainly affected her mobility. Despite herself, she moaned with every egg that grew and set into place in her swollen stomach and couldn't help but enjoy how her breasts grew even larger, her taut teats beginning to let loose a little milk now that they were overfull. It was only when what could only be the eleventh egg had formed in her did she stop swelling, her belly large and round and in keeping with the rest of her thick, matronly frame, but...it wasn't her. None of this was her. Sir Brice wasn't a purple-pink scaled dragoness with thick thighs, wide, child bearing hips, big breasts heavy with milk, a slit slick that even now dripped with need, a plump, pear shaped posterior, and a pregnant stomach so swollen with eggs that she knew she would have to waddle to get anywhere. She was a knight, gods be damned, and this mad mare had to change her back!

Determined to return to what she was, Sir Brice got to her feet, or at least attempted to. She tried for a minute or so, and Avinete watched with amusement as the gravid dragoness fell again and again on her plump, well rounded rump, breasts bouncing and heaving and swollen stomach shuddering with each failure.

"Milady," Avinete giggled. "Do you need some help?"

"No!" Sir Brice said, clawed hands resting on her wide hips as she narrowed her draconic eyes at the mare. "I'm a knight!"

"Oh really?" Avinete said. "I thought knights wore armor. I wouldn't want to chafe those scales!"

Sir Brice hissed and folded her arms over her breasts before realizing how bad an idea this was. Instead, she let them drop to her belly, where she unconsciously began to rub at it, and this seemed to calm her down. After all, her eggs were all intact and--

"Let's get you dressed!" Avinete exclaimed. "Like a true lady!"

"I'm not a lady!" Sir Brice hissed.

"Oh, what would you rather be called?" Avinete asked. "Mother? We can dress you in that style!"

And before Sir Brice could protest, clothes began to form over his naked body. It started with a blue nursing bra, a large one that fit snugly over the dragoness's breasts but did little to hide her nipples that even now trickled their over endowment of milk. The bra snapped into place in the back, lending her much needed support. Next were a pure pair of white panties that appeared at her ankles before pulling themselves up past her thick thighs to wrap around her hips and cover her wet slit and plump rear despite the former knight's attempts to push the underwear away, her gravid belly mostly getting in the way. After that, a blue maternity dress formed over the dragoness's scaled form, the corset at the top modeled after Avinete's own and showing plenty of cleavage, the midsection showing off her belly more than hiding it with its slight transparency and the skirt coming down just above her sore, swollen ankles. Her tri-taloned feet were left unadorned while soft blue gloves formed over her hands and a set of three golden rings slid up her tail. Finally, the gravid dragoness felt something tickle at her scales, and what scales were visible looked shinier and softer now, as if they had just been polished.

"How's that?" Avinete said. "I'd say you're looking pretty...pretty good, that is."

Avinete snorted and chuckled, but Sir Brice was having none of it. The former knight attempted to stand and succeeded this time, tail helping to keep her on her feet even as she swayed from side to the side from the unfamiliarity of walking digitigrade. Clutching at her stomach, she waddled over to the mare with fire in her eyes. Though she had a sword no more, both at her side and between her legs, she felt fire rise in her throat as she gazed balefully at Avinete, the two now the same height even if the former knight was much more burdened. She was ready to claw, to hiss, to spew fire, but Avinete simply stepped forward and laid a hand on her stomach. Sir Brice blinked and felt her rage slip away, the touch so calming and soothing. Still, she wanted to be angry and looked to the mare and found only warmth in the horse's eyes.

"You never did tell me your name, sweetie," Avinete said.

"My...my name?" The dragoness blinked and felt something slip away, something that seemed so important, and yet it was gone in an instant. She searched her mind for what the kindly mare requested, but there was nothing of the sort there, just a "Sir" and she certainly wasn't a Sir. She was a lady! No, a Lady! She giggled and then frowned, knowing how that made her look. "I-I'm sorry, I--"

"Athela, was it?" Avinete murmured. "Isn't that what you said?"

"I... " The dragoness nodded and smiled, forked tongue flicking out. "That's right. I'm Lady Athela. I'm a, er...."

"Dragoness," Avinete said matter-of-factly. "A cute dragoness." She frowned, but only momentarily. "I'm even a little jealous of your breasts, but what are breasts between bests?"

Athela giggled again, but then frowned as well. Something seemed wrong, something seemed off. She didn't usually giggle so much, did she? Was she nervous or something? For some reason, she remembered being stoic or at least mostly serious, but something was rising in her, a sort of happiness that felt warm and...maternal? She searched her thoughts for why this would be, but her body told her why. After all, her breasts were sore and tight, filled to the brim with milk, and her stomach was heavy, swollen with eggs.

Her eggs.

She stared forward, eyes glazing over. Eggs? Since when had she had eggs? She tried to think of why she would be so swollen because she could scarcely recall ever having a man deep in her, or a man in her at all, and yet...

"Avinete?" she said.

"Yes, sweetie?" Avinete replied.

"I'm pregnant." And when Athela said it, she really felt it. The weight of her eggs rested heavily not only on her body, but her mind. Thoughts and memories were beginning to flit away, replaced with thoughts of eggs, maternity dresses, ways to soothe her aching breasts, eggs, handsome drakes, feminine manners, and, of course, more eggs.

"Well, yes," Avinete laughed. "That's what happens when you let four studly drakes fuck you in a row, isn't it?"

"Oh." Athela couldn't help but giggle again. "That is what happened, isn't it? And now..." She sighed softly and rubbed her stomach, tail swaying behind her. "All these eggs. I'm going to be a mother."

"No," Avinete said sharply, so sharply that Athela looked up. The mare smiled. "You are a mother."

Athela nodded and smiled, taking Avinete's hand off her belly and clasping it in her claws. She looked to the mare, her snout opening gleefully.

"You're right," she said. "Thank you so much. Thank you for your...uh..."

"Support?" Avinete suggested. "And the clothes? Let me tell you, you didn't pick out that perfect outfit on your own."

"Yes!" Athela hissed enthusiastically. "I appreciate it, milady, I really do! I don't know what I'd do without you but..." She blinked and looked around. "What are we doing here again? Was I...was I involved in a competition?"

"Of course not," Avinete whinnied. "You're much too gravid for that! And you're a lady. You're here to watch, of course and maybe pick up a cute guy or two."

"Oh, of course! I'm sorry, my thoughts, they--" The dragoness shook her head. "Too many eggs on my mind."

"Oh?" Avinete snorted, nostrils flaring as she looked knowingly at Athela. "Is that all?"

"No," Athela admitted, looking away guiltily. "Drakes too, but--"

"Well, go find one!" Avinete said. "I'm sure there's some hot, sweaty drake out there ready to enjoy some company after a long, hard, day."

Athela blushed. "But I'm gravid, and it's so nice to be around you, and--"

"Who cares, sweetie? Some men find that hot." The mare put her hands on her hips. "And don't worry about me, girl. I've got my work cut out for me here."

"Really?" Athela said. "You wouldn't mind if I--"

"Not at all! Go get 'em, girl! Just not four in a row, this time, alright? You look due any day."

"Thank you, Avinete!" Athela giggled. "For well, everything, especially the clothes!"

"You're welcome," Avinete replied. "If you need any replacement clothing, you know who to come to."

The dragoness nodded and waddled forward, giving the horse a huge hug, which the mare reciprocated. After a few moments, they came apart and the mare gave the dragoness's belly one final rub. Athela giggled, and then turned, waddling cutely through the tourney tents, thick tail swaying behind her.

Avinete watched her go with a large smile on her equine face, satisfied with how her latest "model" had turned out. It had been quite an extreme change, and she enjoyed it even more because of it. Of course, it didn't mean she was done for today. There were still a few too many men running out here. It was a tourney, sure, but would anyone really mind there being a few more cute girls around, maybe a busty unicorn princess? Perhaps a wily wyverness witch with tits to match her salacious smile? Or even another mother, an otter perhaps? She was sure she could find the right model for at least one of those, there was a man out there just a few changes away!

Avinete smiled, ready to make another change.