FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The maintenance tunnels were a second home to Anthela, the gentle flicker of fluorescent lamps a second sun. Those algae-covered boasted as much diversity as the surface flora, if not more, and her green scales were camouflage against them. She could navigate that maze-like sprawl by smell alone. Her workplace had become an adopted habitat.

Her four apprentices, however, did not yet appreciate nuance and structure of Perphia's water supply system. Their flamboyant scales practically glowed in the dim tunnel, and their faces showed various levels of resignation and disgust. Granted, the smell did take some getting used to--Anthela could hardly fault them there--but it wasn't that repulsive.

Her superiors had put her on instructor duty. After all, these students were only a couple of years younger than she was--they were practically her peers! Surely her own experiences with apprenticeships were still fresh, and she could leverage that to do a better job with the next generation.

The experiences were fresh, all right. The exhaustion was fresh. The weeks without a single day of break were fresh. The memories of crawling back to the dorm on blistered feet, too tired to fly and smelling of sewage were fresh as well. It would have been horrible, had she not been accepted. The hard work had thankfully put her margin above the threshold.

"Here are the flow meters we'll be installing," said Anthela, producing several annular, metallic contraptions from a pack. Each one had a screw terminal block attached to one edge, and a mess of wires along another side. A small turbine was installed inside each ring. One was a little lopsided--she had slipped while drilling the mounting holes. It was fine when she had tested it, thankfully. Last night had been long enough without an extra meter to diagnose.

"The connections with the wires can get a little bit complicated, so I'll be watching while you do the first couple. Afterwards we'll split up. Once it's all done, we'll double check everything." She handed one to the closest pair.

"Oooh! Are these digital?" asked the orange one, poking his head into the ring.

Anthela scoffed. It was always the same question. "No. Anyone who gets real work done uses analog sensors."

"But digital ones are supposed to be really good! They'd make this whole thing a lot simpler."

"Maybe. I'll believe it when anything digital manages to leave the lab." The teachers had always focused a little too much on the theoretical, especially since translating the Sol research transmissions. Apparently, nothing had changed in that regard.

She handed another sensor to the pair behind them. These two had aptitude, albeit without enthusiasm to back it up. They been interning for hardly a week, but she would gladly give a recommendation to each of them. "There's a T-junction about a hundred paces that way," she gestured with her tail. "Same as before."

The pair nodded and trotted off in the direction she had indicated, the clicks of their claws on concreate echoing through the tunnel.

Anthela turned to the other two. "We'll be installing that one right here," she said, moving to the pipe and pointing out the location. "Luckily for us, this one is clean water." She knocked the piping with a foreclaw. "That one," she said, gesturing to a nearby line, "is not. This means that today is a very good day.

"With most of Perphia being empty, we've got a lot more capacity to play with here. I've already shut off the valve upstream and downstream, so this line is isolated. Other lines act as bypass and will give everyone more than enough pressure while we work on these."

A short section of the pipe was higher than the rest, at eye level. It had hexagonal fittings on either side and stood out from the rest of the otherwise linear piping. She handed a wrench to the closer student--the red one. What was her name again?

"Of course you're the one she chooses for the hard labor," said the orange dragon, rotating the flow sensor absentmindedly, as if he couldn't determine which way was up. "Honestly, I'm surprised you can still fly."

"Shut up, Cyme. That's a good thing. Besides, you should be thankful we aren't flying deliveries anymore--there's no future in it."

"Don't talk to me about jobs with no future," he snapped. "You'll forgive me if I'd rather be flying than installing dated sensors on sewage lines."

Sewage lines? Were they even listening? "As I said before"--Anthela started.

"Yes, yes. Unscrew these," she said, eager to put her attention towards anything else. She fit the wrench onto the large, threaded fitting and applied force. It didn't move. She grunted, rearing up and dropping down onto it, but it still didn't budge.

"I think it's stuck," said Cyme.

She growled and tried again. "No, really? Why don't you get over here and help me, then?"

"Ah, afraid my claws are full," he said, dangling the flow meter from a foreclaw.

"Here," said Anthela, resting a paw on the far end of the wrench. "On three. One, two, three!"

The fitting made a loud report, and the wrench fell to the ground with a loud, metallic clang. Something skipped away on stone in the distance. Where there had once been a solid, hexagonal prism of steel was now a gritty, uneven scar.

Anthela swore under her breath. It would need a new fitting, and that meant replacing part of the line, too. The parts were too heavy to ask those two to fly it for her. She would need to cart them in. Today would be another late night.

"So... now what?" asked Cyme.

Anthela groaned. "You two can go. It's not your fault, but this is going to be fairly involved."

"Alright," said the red one. They left the wrench and flow meter against the wall and walked out without another word.

"Damnit," muttered Anthela, beginning the long walk back to the shop.

It was evening when she finally finished the repairs. The other two students had already finished their work, even moving on to install another flow meter further downstream without being prompted. Others, she would have scolded, but they did it right, and even managed to infer the correct spot. She remembered doing something similar only a few moons ago.

She went to the shop next, to drop the tools off. The sun had set by the time she got there--luckily, Bog was full tonight, so there was plenty of moonlight. There were a few streetlamps along the way, but the vast majority had burned out and were yet to be replaced.

The shop lights, however, were still lit. As Anthela stepped inside, a green head turned to greet her.

"Anthela, I thought I told you that you could take the tools home, or even leave them there? No need to exhaust yourself."

"Sorry, Hedera. Habit."

Hedera scoffed, dropping a worn piece of chalk onto a nearby tray. Behind her was a chalkboard depicting all of Perphia's sprawling water infrastructure, laid out on a map. She had scrawled notes over everything, to the point where the board was undecipherable to anyone except its creator.

"You know don't have anything you need to prove. Those days are past. You're in."

"I know that." Anthela unslung the bag of tools and deposited it into a cubby. "It'll take time, I think. It's a change." She gestured to the chalkboard. "Besides, you're one to talk. It's not even a workday."

Hedera chuckled, looking back at her handiwork. "What can I say? I love a good puzzle. Those flow meters will be a boon, you know. It has real impact. We'll be able to fix things before they fail, not to mention find bottlenecks and lines we can afford to decommission."

"Hey!" said Anthela, taking a step back. "Preaching to the choir." She looked back at the board. There was still so much to do, and too few people to actually do it. They had to pick up the slack. "I should be heading back home, though."

"Ah, yes. Get a good night's rest."

"I'll try."

Hedera's brow furrowed for a moment, and then she sighed. "I'm a fool. I should have known. You've your first visit to Health and Reproductive Services soon, no?"

Anthela hesitated. "Tomorrow morning."

"Anthela! You should have told me. I'd have covered your position for the day."

"It's fine. It kept my mind off of things."

"Kept your mind..." she frowned. "Listen, Anthela. Let me tell you about my first visit."

"Hedera--"

"It's fine. Listen, I was terrified. Everyone else knew it, I'm sure. They were all too polite to say anything. Or maybe they just knew what it was like." She sighed. "But now... well, it's old hat. As mundane as coming in to work. I don't know if this will help you--it's never that easy, I know--but please, let yourself relax. It's not a rite of passage." She suppressed a laugh. "We've already had that."

It was far too bright outside, far too early. Anthela forced herself awake. The clock did not lie, even when she really wanted it to. The day had started; it was time to get going.

She rolled off the bed and onto hard floor, scrambling to her feet and yawning. There was just enough time for a quick breakfast, but upon looking at the shelves, she realized she wasn't actually hungry. Just the thought of eating felt unpleasant. Besides, it was probably better to arrive early.

She had a first-floor apartment--the perks of an exodus. Some of the buildings had been decommissioned, but this one had not. It was some distance from the denser parts of Perphia. She didn't mind the walking, and the peace and quiet was more than worth it.

The southern Health and Reproductive Services building was on the threshold between the urban and suburban--she passed it every day on her way to work. The brutalist architecture and uninspired lettering had always been scenery during her commute. This time, though, she turned down the path towards it.

Small bushes lined the path to swinging doors. Anthela stopped before them. She could feel her heart beating though her chest, and it wasn't from her brisk walk. There was nothing to do expect go in, though--and she especially didn't want anyone to see her loitering outside like this, too anxious to enter.

A rush of warm air flowed out though the door as she stepped inside. The room was something between a waiting room and a lobby. It was a large, open space, and various seats and cushions lined the sides, sitting up against the walls. A few supported bored occupants, rifling through magazines or lost in the inaudible mutterings of a personal radio. A wooden counter stood in the middle, apparently unstaffed. A couple of doors were set on the far side of the room.

The instructions had been somewhat lacking. She was to come here for a morning appointment and wait until called. There had been no mention of checking in, forms to be fill out, or anything else of the sort. But if everyone else was waiting... well, at least she wouldn't be the only one.

She found an open cushion and laid down on it. According to the clock on the wall, there were still a few minutes to her appointment. She nestled in deeper and tried to slow her breathing.

The door opened, and someone's name was called out. It wasn't hers. An orange dragoness sitting several seats down from her got up and went through the door. Then it was quiet again. Her legs were shaking. She shifted her position to make them stop.

After the longest five minutes of her life, the doors swung open once more. A blue head poked through the opening.

"Anthela?" he asked.

She exhaled shakily and stood up, pausing a moment before tentatively walking to the door. A few others had looked up when the door had opened, but upon realizing it was not for them had returned to patiently waiting.

"Morning! My name is Bostryx," he said as she approached him. "Follow me." He led her though the door and into a spacious hallway.

Bostryx wore vibrant blue scales and strode down the hall comfortably. Just by looking at him, Anthela had the distinct sense that he might still be able to fly, despite being even bigger than she was. It wasn't because he looked like a professional acrobat--he had neither their spindly limbs nor their disproportionate wing muscles. Nor was it from a childish figure--he had anything but.

No, for Bostryx, it was about density and wingspan. He had a lithe frame that nearly concealed telltale lines of whipcord muscle. It wasn't raw strength--it was pure efficiency. He was the maximization of function without sacrifice of form.

Even folded, his wings were massive, nearly to the point of impracticality--but not quite. He held them in a funny way, tightly furled and closer to his sides. It made him look smaller than he actually was.

His tail was a half-head longer than hers, but he curved it inwards as it swung with his gait. The motion made it too seem normal in size, like his wings. Anthela only recognized it because she had learned the trick as well. It only took a few instances of getting her tail stuck in a swinging door before it became habit, though most people never had to deal with such problems.

Bostryx turned his head around. For a panicked moment, Anthela though he had seen her staring, but he only gave a pleasant smile.

"You have a good weekend?" he asked.

"Oh--um, good enough," she said, keeping pace with his brisk walk. "Though... I've a few interns under my wing, so I guess it's not quite the vacation I would hope for?"

"Well, better that than digging into their school time, I suppose."

"Yeah... though it's at the expense of my free time, instead."

"Not forever, though?"

She shook her head quickly. "They give the job to newbie every time. So I'm stuck the rascals until someone greener than me comes along."

Bostryx suppressed a laugh. "Greener than you? Impossible. But seriously, don't be too hard on them. It wasn't long ago that you were in their position, you know."

"I know... it's just that I also like sleep."

Bostryx chuckled, and Anthela felt herself smile. She had expected the appointment to be more intimidating, or at the very least callous and formal. But Bostryx was neither--it was a conversation she could have with a friend while walking down the street. So why were her legs still shaking?

"We're nearly there," he said. "Sorry it's such a hike. The layout of this place is mediocre at best."

"I suppose you get plenty of exercise, then," she said, immediately regretting it as the words spilled out of her mouth.

But Bostryx didn't laugh at her, nor did he make any snide remarks at her accidental insinuation. He only nodded solemnly and turned forwards again. "I suppose we do. But exercise time is nearly over--we're almost there. Only a few more doors."

They had already passed several; they were tall, wooden, and looked to be exceptionally well-set. It was about fifty paces between each one, each keyed and without a handle. Anthela hadn't noticed it until seeing the locks-- Bostryx had a small, silver keychain wrapped around his neck. He wore it like an accessory, not a tool, and it looked better on him than it had any right to.

They passed another door. Anthela felt her heartbeat through her head, thinking about what might be happening on the other side. Her steps still had the slightest of jitters. It's just like the margin test, she told herself. Except routine and boring. Probably. She stole another glance at Bostryx.

The clicks of his claws on tile stopped abruptly, and Anthela nearly rammed her snout into him before stumbling to a stop.

"107," he said, habitually slipping the key into the lock and swinging the door open. "Come on in."

The examination room was even larger than Anthela had expected. The ceiling was as tall as she was long, and the space was wide enough to run laps in. There was a padded region of the floor off to her right, perfectly flush with the warm, ceramic tiles of the floor. It was large enough that she could lay on it with wings outstretched and not touch either side.

To the left was a sturdy table, padded with the same material as the floor cushion. A sizable water cooler sat next to the door, full. Pillows and beanbags were scattered throughout the space haphazardly, with pronounced indentations in each. The floor seemed to curve downwards towards the middle of the room, where a cluttered wooden desk sat with a filing cabinet to one side. It was all exceptionally tidy and smelled faintly of cleaning solution, but in a subtle, refreshing way.

Bostryx closed the door behind them and returned the keychain to around his neck. "It's always unlocked on this side," he said, pointing to the handle on their side of the door. "The locks are to ensure that no one accidently walks in."

"That used to be a problem?"

"At first, apparently. But that was before my time. I hear there was a fair amount of counseling for everyone involved, though. Practitioners included."

"But it's not a problem anymore."

"No, no," he said. He strided over to the desk and plopped down onto his haunches, tail swishing back and forth. He produced a clipboard from a nearby drawer.

"This is your first visit?" he confirmed.

Anthela nodded quickly, still taking in the room.

"Oh, feel free to sit, stand, pace, grab a beanbag, whatever you're most comfortable with," he said, face buried in the document.

She took a closer look at a nearby beanbag. The tan fabric was soft and felt-like, but decidedly synthetic. It was cushioned wonderfully though; plush at first, but then supportive and firm. Though maybe Bostryx would get the wrong idea if she used one so early. Everything was clean, but she had no delusions about the purpose of those beanbags--or, for that matter, any of the furniture. Besides, staying still just felt wrong. She had to be moving.

Anthela began pacing around the desk, familiarizing herself with every object in the room. Four pillows. Three beanbags. The padded table. Some folded, chaise-like structure she had initially missed, in the back--also padded. The inset... bed, for lack of a better word. Everything was dragon-sized.

There was a drain beneath the central desk that Bostryx sat at, neatly hidden from view. And the concave, tiled floor... she paused mid-step. Surely it didn't get messy enough to necessitate all that.

"Don't worry," he said, noting her unrest. "It's just like the margin test, only smaller in scope and far more routine. Does the test still trouble you? It's hardly uncommon, you know. Mine was very stressful. The feeling still lingers. I can recommend someone, if you'd like."

Anthela pulled back and made herself smaller. "No, no. That's quite alright. I wouldn't call it troubling, at least--and I barely remember it." It had been a floating sensation, lined with something carnal. There had been desperation and soreness and pleasure to a degree that memories could not possibly contain. That part wasn't scary--though coming to had certainly been uncanny, like falling asleep and waking up somewhere different, with only hazy, nonsensical dreams to explain it.

"Alright. Well, it's not wrong to be nervous. But I promise everything will go fine--I've done this many times before."

"They assign all the first visits to the seasoned practitioners, then? I guess that means I won't be seeing any classmates any time soon." she said, relaxing a little.

"Oh, not here, hopefully!" said Bostryx, bellowing a laugh. "That would be catastrophic. They've still got many moons of learning to do. There's an opt-in program to be a part of that, by the way. Though I wouldn't recommend it any time soon--wait until these visits become routine, at the very least."

"Speaking of routine things..." she asked, not quite ready to finish the sentence.

"Oh, no rush. Since it's your first appointment, we've two slots instead of the normal single-slot one. Some of that is to cover administrative details, answer your questions, and so on, but the extra time is also so that we can afford to take things a little slower.

"We'll get you enrolled for double-blind studies, first. Most of the information is already filled out--genetic history, immunizations, past illnesses, injuries, and the like--but there's a few other bits we need to cover. It doesn't get you out of it, but we do want to make sure nothing poses an undue risk.

"Starting off: Do you regularly operate machinery or drive a vehicle?"

"Definitely yes. Metalworking, mostly." She watched as Bostryx made a mark on the paper.

"In the last moon, have you experienced shortness of breath, dizziness, or temporary non-ardeo-induced loss of vision?"

"Oh, no. Nothing like that."

"Excellent. Next up... are you currently taking any medications not officially prescribed?" he asked, tapping the pen on the clipboard. "Basically, anything recreational. There's no judgement, and it's entirely confidential, of course, but we really don't want to give you anything we know might cause issues."

"No. Nothing I can remember, at least," she joked, immediately regretting it.

Bostryx peered over the clipboard and fixed his gaze on her. "Nothing you can remember, or nothing at all?" His voice had become serious. "It doesn't leave this room, Anthela, and it's for your own health."

She backed away from him instinctively. "Sorry, firmly nothing. It was a nervous joke."

"You're certain?" It was almost not a question.

"Yes--I've taken nothing not prescribed. Sorry. I understand it's important."

Bostryx went still, and something about his stature made him seem bigger. The wings, she realized--he had unfurled them a minute amount. Not enough to be open, just enough to be larger. Orange eyes that belonged on a color wheel stared into her, as if trying to dredge up any hint of doubt or lie.

But then he relaxed, and Anthela took a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding.

"I have two priorities, Anthela. First and foremost is your health and safety. Second is your comfort. They are ordered for a reason. I don't mean to frighten you, but it absolutely critical that this information be accurate." He paused. "I almost marked you for it, just to be safe. But I didn't. It's very important to avoid selection bias, too. It can be a hard position to be in. You understand?"

Anthela nodded.

"Good. Next up is the entrance survey," he said, flipping a page and handing her the clipboard. "You'll complete one for every visit. We ask about everything from odd lumps to sleeping disorders. Usually everything's fine, but this way it's formalized and can serve as a starting place for discussion."

The form had seemed reasonable, until she discovered that there was more than one page. Things this tedious had no right to be called a 'survey.' She looked up at Bostryx, but he had already pulled out a book to read. Anthela sighed and moved onto the next page.

"Done," she said finally, handing the clipboard back.

"Excellent," said Bostryx, taking the clipboard back and rifling through the survey pages. "Everything... seems in order. It is my professional opinion that you are entirely healthy and normal."

"I could have told you that."

"Perhaps. Though I find that people who insist they are fine are often not. Besides, it's about the process. We can handle everything informally, but there needs to be a record somewhere.

"But that's it for administration. There's an exit survey afterwards, but I don't get to see that, and it's anonymous. So we're on to ardeo, unless you have any questions."

"Not about the paperwork..."

"But you have them about our next step."

Her teachers had given her a very thorough course on ardeo. There was a lot of focus on the practical components of safety, along with some discussion of current research. She knew the theory behind incremental yield increases, carrying capacity and reproductive utility. She knew the physiological effects, the timeframes, the delivery methods. She had learned it all.

But it was one thing to learn about blurred vision, and another entirely to look up at a blank sky and realize that she would never see the stars again. Learning wasn't enough. It had never been enough.

"What's it like?" she blurted out.

"It's like the margin test." The line almost sounded rehearsed.

"It can't be like the margin test. It's different, the first time. That's what my teachers said."

Bostryx sighed. "I don't know what you want me to say, Anthela. I've overseen many margin tests, and I've been a practitioner for many years. There are similarities, there are differences. Sure, the margin test was your first time having ardeo, and that made the experience much stronger. But the only difference is magnitude--qualitatively, it's identical. Same direction, different strength."

"Oh."

"I will say this much: it isn't something to be afraid of. It is a part of all of us, and there is no shame in it." He waited for Anthela to finish nodding slowly. "Anything else?"

"Are we both taking ardeo for this?"

"Oh, no. Of course, I need it once a moon, just like everyone else, but we aren't both going to be in ardeo fever at the same time. It's not safe--someone has to be in a clear state of mind," he said. "Well, mostly clear." He gave her a warm smile. "In fact, we need practitioners of our own, just like you do."

"I didn't know there were female practitioners."

"Not many; there's not a lot of positions, given how tree-like the organization structure is. And they have a lot less... turnover," he said, frowning.

She wanted to ask why, about what made it different. The roles were the same, no? Maybe it was because there were fewer? But history and Bostryx's face told her that prying further was a bad idea.

A moment of silence passed between the two. Then Bostryx broke it: "If there aren't any other questions, I'll grab your ardeo." Anthela hadn't had any other questions, but Bostryx turned away before she had a chance to respond anyways.

"While details from the margin test might be a little fuzzy," he said, unlocking the top drawer of the filing cabinet, "this part ought to be familiar." He pulled out a vial filled with viscous, amber fluid and presented it to her.

Calling it a vial was perhaps a stretch; it was nothing so glorified. The container was a conical centrifuge tube with a hole poked through the lid. A clear plastic straw came out of it, reaching to all the bottom with a thin bore that ensured not a single drop would be left behind.

She forced herself to stop trembling and took it from Bostryx, hooking a foreclaw through the free holding tab. He was right--it was familiar. She had done this once before.

Anthela had reached the front of the line. Those anxious whispers behind her had been her own just a few moments ago. Her friends were in other lines; staying together was challenging, and somewhat discouraged. She wouldn't be tested with them; prior relationships would bias the results.

The practitioner before her had a dozen tubes in a holder. They were half doses; they could get away with it since it was their first time. Anything less would be asking for trouble, though.

"Careful not to drop it," he said, handing one to her. "Drink it now."

She looked at it a skeptically, but did so. It was thick and bitter. The ardeo itself was in too small a quantity to taste; the flavor came from the processes used to extract it, leftover solvent that couldn't be removed without destroying the ardeo along with it.

The practitioner watched her finish and swallow it. He took the tube back, examined it, and put it back in the holder. Anthela felt dizzy from placebo.

She was directed to a room and waited there for thirty minutes. There were a few other dragonesses there, too. Some were in various states of anxiety and confusion. Others were rather indecent, leaking semen from a recently-used slit, not trying to hide it. They dreamed with half-lidded eyes and smelled good.

A voice called them, one by one. Some left slowly and cautiously. The good-smelling ones jumped and bounded. One came back, smelling better than before. Another didn't come back--done, apparently.

They called her name. It was hard to tell how much she felt the ardeo, and how much her nerves had inflicted on herself. Time was thick. Her head was at a different height. She shook so fast that she buzzed. They moved her to another room.

A blue dragon her age joined her. He was smaller than her and panted tiredly. She learned he was not tired at all.

It was a short dance choreographed by evolution. He led. Following was easy. His weight felt good atop her. But his seed felt even better.

"You took that like a champ," said Bostryx, taking the empty ardeo tube from her. "There are others I've had for years that still gag on the taste."

"It's not that bad..." she trailed off. Bostryx's scales were that same shade of blue.

"You're alright?"

"Close enough."

"It gets easier. But if it doesn't, just ask. I'll refer you."

"I'm fine." An awkward silence passed. "So now we just... wait?"

"You could--that's up to you. Some people like to read a book or listen to the radio. Others want to be a mewling puddle when their fever finally hits, and they get started right away. Most people lie somewhere in the middle, though."

Anthela shivered in anticipation. A mewling puddle sounded overwhelming, albeit a little exciting. She couldn't possibly bring herself to ask for that. But to just listen to the radio for half an hour, waiting for the fever to hit... that didn't feel right, either. She didn't want to be rude to Bostryx, after all. Though perhaps all he really wanted was half an hour to relax.

"I... don't know what I want to do," she admitted.

"That's perfectly okay. Don't feel pressured to commit to a decision. The ardeo will take care of itself: it isn't your responsibility. Just pace, relax, and have some water."

Water. At its mention, Anthela suddenly realized how thirsty she was. She had initially thought it was from all of the talking, but then remembered her classes: it was just a side effect of ardeo. Luckily, the water cooler had cups for designed for such a degree of thirst. It was two full minutes of nonstop drinking before she finally felt quenched. Satisfied, she went to a nearby beanbag and sunk into it.

It was absurdly comfortable; she might have even been able to get a decent night's sleep on it. She could use that--it didn't matter how the beanbag had been used. But though her body and mind were tired, she couldn't bring herself to close her eyes and rest. For a few seconds, maybe, but then she had to open them, had to see what was happening--which, of course, was nothing terribly interesting.

She glanced over to Bostryx, who was snout-deep in some book. A radio played soft, unobjectionable music in the background while he read. He had his book resting on the table, so she couldn't make out the title, but it looked to be quite thick. His tail flicked back and forth adorably as he read, pausing only for page turns.

Even when reading, Bostryx had perfect posture. Broad shoulders rested on strong legs, supporting his front as he sat on his haunches. His chest heaved slowly with each breath. Anthela tried to match his cadence, but she wasn't nearly calm enough. She only managed a few slow, shaky breaths before speeding up again. It did make her feel better afterwards, though.

She knew Bostryx was aware that she was staring--there was no way that he didn't realize, by now--but he didn't act on it. It wasn't that he was ignoring her; he was only doing his job. He wouldn't call her out. That could make her uncomfortable. Besides, surely a little staring was warranted, if not downright expected. Especially when directed at Bostryx.

His size, his color, his jawline, his muscles, his wings, and his tail... they were all perfect. He was a paragon. It made sense, given how practitioners were selected--he was the cream of the crop, picked above so many others for his exceptional margin. Of course everything would be perfect.

But it wasn't just his physical appearance. It was the way he held himself, immaculate and comfortable. It was the way he had been welcoming yet stern. It was that incessant patience, perfected only through practice and routine--the patience that had him reading, fully aware of their next step, while she still struggled to still her nerves.

Anthela went to stretch, but she nicked the bag with an errant claw on the return. Something wet seeped out of it and against her leg.

"Bostryx? Sorry, I think I might have punctured the beanbag... it's leaking."

He didn't even bother to look up from his book. "That material is rather robust, Anthela. Double-check?"

She groaned, peeling herself off of the beanbag. She circled around to the back side of it, to the place she had struck. There was the spot! She poked at it gingerly, feeling for the leak. The liquid was present, but where was the tear? Unless Bostryx was right, and there was no leak.

She pulled her tail down between her legs, aiming for a familiar location. She already knew what she would find, but refused to believe it. She didn't feel aroused. Yet her tail returned with strong evidence to the contrary. She had only gone and sat on a beanbag for a few minutes!

"There's no need for concern. It's all quite normal. I think you smell lovely, by the way."

She covered her face with a wing in embarrassment. The room was well-ventilated and quite spacious, but apparently even that could not hide the scent of her own arousal. And now Bostryx knew. He was going to know eventually, of course. It was just odd to have it happening right now--it had always been something she had pictured in the future, something that was eternally later.

The strangest part was that she could barely even smell it! It was such a benign scent, so easily ignored--she hadn't noticed until Bostryx had pointed it out. His scent was nothing like that. He had always smelled, but it had been the way any other male dragon smelled, in that manner which announced presence and nothing more. Now it was more intense, and there was something else mixed in. Anthela couldn't quite place it--she would need a better sniff.

She edged her way around the beanbag, peeking out under her wing. Bostryx was still buried in that book, pretending not to notice her--and he was doing a great job at it. Or maybe he was actually reading. It was hard to tell from this distance.

As she moved closer to him, the smell grew clearer, but she still couldn't tell what it was. It was a puzzle with a promise of solution--just one more step, one slight draft, and she would have it! But all that step did was open up new avenues of possibility, and stray air currents only unveiled new, hidden minutiae.

At some point Anthela realized she had gotten closer to Bostryx than she had intended. She was practically next to him, well within tail-slapping distance. Her nose still couldn't figure out that smell, but she didn't need it to know what it was. That aroma could only be one thing.

It wasn't a good smell or a bad one. There wasn't anything she would have associated it with. All she knew was that she wanted to smell more of it, to figure out where it was coming from and connect the dots. And while she knew, abstractly, that it was coming from Bostryx's slit, her brain just wouldn't accept that as a substitute for experiencing it for real.

If only he would say something! He hadn't even looked at her; that book had his entire attention. She knew he was only following the rules, but it still felt like he was ignoring her. It was for her own sake, her teachers had said. She had to ask. He wasn't allowed to initiate, unless she asked for it first--which was essentially equivalent to her initiating, anyways. It had to be verbal, had to be direct; there was to be no miscommunication. It was all to ensure her comfort, to go at her pace. A great concept, but now it only felt like a burden.

Anthela opened her mouth to speak. But what would she even say? Bostryx, can I bury my nose in your slit for a moment? The thought made her blanch. Though he would probably let her. Hell, she was sure it would have been one of the tamer requests he had received. It was just some common foreplay. She could be up-close and personal with that smell in the span of seconds; she just had to ask.

But that was the problem: there was no way those words were ever coming out of her mouth. The first few, maybe, with a little courage. But the rest? Never.

Maybe she was just overthinking it. She didn't have to be explicit; it was just the next part of the visit, the end of an intermission. Was that enough? She had been standing next to him for far too long--even if Bostryx paid it no mind, it was beginning to get awkward, for her, at least. It would have to be enough.

"Bostryx," she stammered. "Can we... get started?"

He looked up from his book and directed his attention to her. He had known she was there. Of course he had known. After all, it wasn't like she had been hiding. It was just a little odd to see him go from being so engrossed in that book to having a conversation with her. It was confirmation that he had seen everything--even if he hadn't been permitted to do anything in response.

"You're sure?" he asked. "There's no rush. You can always wait for the fever, too. You don't have to push forward if you aren't comfortable with it."

"No," she started. Her mind had been made up--the only hard part was acting on it. "I want it."

"Alright, then." He bookmarked his page and flipped the cover shut. "I always start with preferences. Do you know what you like, or things you definitely don't? Penises, tails, tongues? Positions?"

It took a moment for her to understand what he had just asked--she hadn't expected their discussion to turn so quickly. Did others know what they liked or disliked by their first visit? It had only been a moon since her margin test! She could maybe come up with a few fantasies, if she tried--but she would never tell them to Bostryx. That would be far too embarrassing.

"No... I'll defer to your judgement, I guess," she said. The words felt so bizarre and foreign. She was essentially asking him to have his way with her--and it hadn't been hard, and she didn't stammer. Maybe that meant that worst part was over.

"Okay, but don't hesitate to tell me if you like or don't like something. even if we're in the middle of it. Especially if we're in the middle of it."

Bostryx stood up and moved closer to Anthela. He wasn't trying to hide his size anymore; with his wings relaxed, he had a much broader figure. He was by no means a small dragon, but neither was she. Compared to other, reasonably-sized individuals, they were practically the same size--though Bostryx had a bit of an edge on her. _How big would that tool of his be?_she thought.

He circled around her, looking without judging, a warm smile the entire time. He stopped halfway though and focused on the base of her tail. She could feel those orange eyes lasering in with unilateral focus, as if trying to see through her tail to the bit she knew he desired.

"Sorry," she started, moving a hindleg to better cover herself. Why did she do that? She wanted to mate with him; he'd have plenty of access to everything there soon enough. Why was it so hard to show herself to him now?

"So, how... how does this work?"

"Don't worry, I'll go step-by-step. First, we need to get ready. Could you lift your tail?"

But her tail wouldn't lift, not with him staring at her haunches so intently. She had never exposed herself to someone like that before! Even the margin test hadn't been like that. Sure, there had been sex there, but her role had been rather participatory. It was a good thing that her partners had been active enough for the both of them.

"If you aren't comfortable with it, we can try again later."

No, she thought. This was what it meant to live in Perphia. This was the life she had worked so hard for. This was the life she wanted, and now she had it_._ If she wanted to raise her tail, she would damn well do it!

She could still feel Bostryx's unwavering gaze on her, waiting with rapt anticipation. With a single, forced motion, she lifted the base of her tail, exposing herself to him.

"Oh, wow," he whispered. Fine green scales swelled and then parted into a sliver of pink, barely concealing a bump of engorged flesh further down. A few viscous droplets threatened to fall. "You're beautiful, Anthela."

She was beautiful? He was a practitioner! She was an asymmetric mess, next to him!

"I'm okay," she said, pulling her wings closer to her body.

"No, Anthela. Let me show you why I think that. Here, look at me."

She turned her head to the side. Bostryx had his head as close to her crotch as he could without touching it.

"Not there, silly."

She curled her neck beneath her forelegs instead, looking down her underbelly. Everything was visible from this angle. She watched as a drop of lubrication dripped from her clit, watched as Bostryx's gaze followed it down hungrily. But then her eyes were drawn to something else.

It was easy to spot, a pink nub of flesh in a sea of blue. It stuck out from his hips slightly, just enough to be noticed. Now that she had seen it, she couldn't keep her eyes off of it.

"That's the way," he said. "I want you to understand why I think you're so stunning, even if you don't.

"First of all, what's beneath your tail right now is a work of art. And you can tell I'm not lying to you when I say that." The pink bit between his legs went from a small kernel to something profoundly phallic in a matter of seconds. Anthela's eyes widened. It was so real. She didn't have to imagine; it was right in front of her.

"Second, you smell divine." His snout butted up against her vulva. It was the first time he had touched her. She shivered. The contact felt cold and pleasant. A rush of chilly air ran over exposed flesh as he inhaled deeply, and Anthela watched as more of his penis pulled itself out of his genital slit. Her heart skipped a beat; all that would be inside her, soon.

"And lastly..." Something almost wetter than she was parted her lips slightly. It was surprisingly ticklish. Bostryx swirled his tongue around, careful to not to be too stimulating, and then pulled it out. "You taste wonderful, too."

His knot showed itself as he spoke. Compared to the rest of his dick, it seemed out of place, inelegant, and utterly fascinating. How was_that_ was going to fit inside her? She squirmed at the thought.

It was then that the smell hit her. It wasn't that cryptic scent from before; now, it was overwhelming. Her vision turned to static for a moment, and she stumbled to catch her balance as her front legs went weak. It became manageable a moment later, but Bostryx's musk was still omnipresent. Was that how she smelled to him?

"Are you okay?" he asked, his cock throbbing with his heartbeat.

"Yeah," she said, eyes still in rapt attention. How would it feel to have that tip slip past her labia? To have that knot knock against her relentlessly before finally being granted entry?

"Alright, next step. Spread your wings," he said. "I'll need the space. Oh, and do you want any of the furniture? We can move to the bed or table, if you'd like. It'd be more comfortable."

That was probably true. But they were already so close to starting! And her legs had finally stopped jittering. She didn't want to stop the momentum and risk going back to that.

"Here's fine, for now." She spread her wings obediently.

Bostryx climbed atop her in a single smooth motion. The moment he touched her, she realized that there was no way that body would ever be flightworthy. She had been completely wrong about that. The muscle was far too dense, the chest too pronounced. His every motion was backed by calm, firm force. This wasn't a body built for flying; it was one built for rutting dragonesses into the ground.

"Are you all right?" he asked. "You're comfortable? I'm not too heavy?"

"It's fine," she whined, dropping her forelegs until her rump was sticking out and her head was resting on the warm tile. That position was a little more comfortable, but Bostryx was still heavy and the floor was still hard. Hopefully she would forget about all that soon enough.

Bostryx lowered his hips to meet hers, lining himself up. "You're my first appointment for the week, Anthela," he whispered into her ear. "Do you know what that means?" His cock was so close now--she could feel the heat radiating off it through her scales. "It means I've a couple days stored up in here. That'll be more than twice what most get. It's all yours, to the very last drop. It belongs to you. It belongs in you. Take it from me."

He slid in excruciatingly slowly, savoring the initial penetration millimeter by millimeter. It felt amazing at first, but his speed was maddeningly slow. This wasn't like the margin test at all! Where were the thrashes, the reckless thrusts? Where were the roars of ecstasy as dragons loosed their seed within seconds of penetration? Where were the feral bellows from their partners who found it far too much to handle?

"I love how wet you are, Anthela," he said, nipping at her ear. "I know the ardeo is responsible for a bit of it, but I like to think I had a part in making it be... well, this much." He pulled out, and an audible splatter of droplets hit the floor. "I've done this a lot, you know. But that's something special, there."

"Sorry," she whimpered. Had all that really come from her?

"Cleanup is easy. Don't be sorry--this is something to revel in. Relax. Savor it."

She exhaled softly when he began sliding that tapered length back in. Like before, he took his sweet time. It was hard to tell if it was even moving, at times. Her breaths turned into soft moans that then became unrestrained growls, until Anthela heard the sounds echo off the walls and stifled them.

"You could roar and it wouldn't make it through the walls," he whispered, still pushing his penis in, still far too slowly. "I know from experience. So be as loud as you feel comfortable with. Plus, it lets me know how I'm doing." He accentuated the last word by thrusting deep, stopping just shy of knotting her.

Anthela yelped in surprise. That tool was massive, and it felt even bigger than it looked! She was in awe of how effortlessly it had slid in, entirely without resistance. But Bostryx left her no time to enjoy it, pulling out sharply a moment later. Anthela tried to follow his penis back with her hips, to keep it in for longer, but he had the superior angle. As it slipped out, another spray of fluid splashed onto the floor beneath their meeting hips.

"You have no idea how much that turns me on, Anthela."

Anthela only whimpered in response. That had felt absurdly good. His dick was large, but so was she; in hindsight, she realized, they were probably paired taking that into account. It hadn't hurt at all, and he had given her such a wonderful sense of fullness before he had ripped it away so selfishly.

This was nothing like the margin test. It was so much more drawn out, so much more controlled--

Anthela loosed a loud moan as Bostryx grunted and thrusted in and out again. Another splash. She shifted her balance to give him better access, but inadvertently stepped on a particularly wet and slippery patch of tile.

The sensation of liquid seeping into her pads was entirely lost under a whirlwind of contented ecstasy. Bostryx shoved himself inside her once more, his pulsing cock daring her to squeeze--and squeeze she did. Her walls clutched and his length, coaxing it deeper, encouraging him to release everything he had to offer inside of her.

But Bostryx was unmoved, pulling out as if nothing had happened.No! She clamped down harder, trying to stop him. But slick muscle could find no purchase on that solid, pointed length. Bostryx did moan in response, at least; it was a melodious sound. She wanted him to make that noise every time. But his penis slid out all the same, dragging more lubrication with it to splash uselessly onto the tiled floor.

She had had enough; if he was just going to tease her, she would take the lead before he had another chance. Anthela jutted her hips back, taking aim at that sharp point of his cock. She might have gotten it, too, had her foot not slipped.

Anthela fell flat onto her haunches in a puddle of her own arousal, the impact sending a shriek up her spine. The smooth tile flooring was as hard and unyielding as cement. Bostryx was not far behind. He had managed to mitigate some of his fall with quick reflexes, but still fell onto her with an uncomfortable amount of force.

"Ow," she grunted. She had landed on her butt, but the pain had jumped to her back.

"Are you all right?" Bostryx climbed off her.

"I think so," she said, wincing as she stood up. "I'll be sore in the morning, though."

"In more ways than one, I hope." He shifted so that she could get a view of his haunches. His cock was still erect, glistening with her fluids. "We should get a more stable position before continuing. Unless you need a break--don't be afraid to take one."

"No, it's fine." She walked over to the chaise in the back of the room, careful not to slip. The pain had mostly subsided; far more pressing was the emptiness she felt in her loins. The interruption was frustrating, even ignoring the pain from the fall.

"This one looks comfy," she said, eyeing the curved shape of the furniture. "What makes it different from the others?"

"The angle. It's especially good if you want to watch."

Anthela climbed onto it, resting her head on the sloped end. She caught herself habitually draping her wings over her underbelly and curling her tail to cover herself. It was silly; Bostryx had had his cock in her up to the knot not a minute ago. There was no modesty left to preserve.

She forced herself to splay her wings and unroll her tail. She wasn't accustomed to being this exposed; it wasn't just her genitals this time, but her underbelly, too. And she couldn't just look forwards and feel, couldn't stick her rear in the air and wait anxiously for pleasure to happen. The angle of her head was such that she had to watch.

It was for this reason that she had such a clear view of Bostryx's sapphire snout before he buried it in her hips, shoving a long, dexterous tongue far into her vagina. It was lacking in girth compared to his cock, but that tongue had length to spare and was quite the dancer.

Anthela had never experienced such a sensation before. She had never even dreamed of such a pleasure. But as her legs wrapped around the back of his head, pinning him in place, she realized that she _really_liked it.

Vaginal fluid dribbled past Bostryx's chin and down his neck as his tongue corkscrewed, coaxing as much of the liquid out as he could. He pressed the upper part of his jaw against her clit, rubbing and nuzzling into it as he worked. He had his eyes closed, finding his way only by touch and experience.

His tongue knew all the right places. Wet muscle surged against wet muscle as they each tried to anticipate the other, slurping noises reverberating through the room. His snout applied enough pressure to stimulate, but not to the point of discomfort. He alternated between brushing her clit to grinding against it, never repeating, never predictable. It was working--she was getting close.

But then he stopped abruptly, as if he knew, and Anthela reluctantly released him. His face came back wet and shiny, trailing threads of arousal still connecting to her vulva. He left his tongue sticking out, showing her just how much he had managed to fit in, before licking his lips and putting it back into his mouth.

"Mmm. I take it you liked that?"

Anthela made a throaty growl. "I love how ravenous you were. Why did you stop?"

"Well, I did say that you tasted wonderful. But--"

"--you're saving space for the main course?"

Bostryx looked a little crestfallen. "Hey. I was going to make that joke."

"Sorry," she said, in a tone that made it clear that she was not.

He grinned playfully. "That's okay. I know how you can make it up to me."

Anthela gave him a look that made it clear she intended to do just that, opening her legs wide. She shivered in anticipation as Bostryx took the invitation and climbed over her once again--except this time, they were face to face. The chaise was the perfect height; their hips were at the same level, and Bostryx could stand and support himself or press down on her as much as much as he desired. There was just enough space so she could see what was going on under both of their legs.

She now had a newfound appreciation for the size of Bostryx's cock. It rested atop her underbelly, warm and comfortable against those olive scales. Had it been inside her, his position made it so that they would have been knotted. Even so, the tip stretched halfway up her belly, growing somewhat thinner until it terminated in a round point. His urethra pointed teasingly at her face. It wasn't a small hole--that was a spout. Bostryx had said that there would be a lot, but how much was that, exactly?

"Oh, wow," she said.

"Hey! That was my line for talking about _your_genitals. You can't use it for mine!"

"I guess I'll just have to make it up to you twice, then." Blood rushed through her head.

"I guess so." He chuckled. "Good thing I saved up extra for you." He lifted his cock off of her front and shifted his position. She saw exactly where he now had it pointing.

"Are you--"

"Yeah. Ready?"

Anthela gave a small, quick nod and Bostryx impaled her. He wasn't being coy, this time. There was no easing in, no slow teasing or snail-paced thrusts. She was officially on the receiving end of a no-holds-barred rutting--and she loved it.

He was fast. Things like size and texture lost meaning. He was in her, and it was good; he pulled back for the next thrust, and she felt empty. There were squishing noises and the soft patter of droplets hitting the floor. She had a full view of that glossy, dripping cock, the knot going in to kiss her labia again and again.

But it wasn't just a better view that this new position brought. He was on top of her, like before, but this time she was on her back. The angle of penetration was different. It was stimulating in entirely new ways.

All the while, Bostryx maintained constant eye contact with her. She found it hard to meet it, darting back to their hips to watch his cock vanish inside her. There was something about watching that made the penetration feel more intense.

Anthela made a noise halfway between a moan and a roar. "So good," she breathed.

Bostryx spoke over the noise they were making. "It gets better," he said.

Her vaginal walls gripped, dragging out slightly when he pulled back, pressing in when he rammed forward. His thrusts were getting deeper. His knot was no longer content to just touch her labia; it had begun to spread it. Those tingling touches had turned into jolts of pleasure.

More fluid plopped onto the ground, with a different timbre. It wasn't hers, this time.

"Sorry," huffed Bostryx. "Lost a bit meant for you, there. Not the good part, so don't you fret. I couldn't stop myself... this is absurdly hot, Anthela. You're absurdly hot."

Anthela felt her face flush from the praise, meeting his gaze. "So don't stop," she said.

The tip of his cock was reaching deeper--far deeper than anything Anthela had experienced before. She was afraid that he might go too far with each subsequent thrust, afraid that she might be at her limit--but those new spots were euphoric when his tip scraped against them, and there was no pain at all.

His knot dipped halfway into her--a deeper spot, a new spark of pleasure. But this time he didn't pull back. Instead, he pushed in a little more, past the widest point of his knot. Her vaginal muscles greedily dragged it the rest of the way in, closing tight around it.

It was an explosion of pleasure, a full, tingling feeling that filled the bottom half of her belly. She wasn't sure what part was more potent: was it the knot, with its wide and lovely shape? Or was it the shaft, which demonstrated that her vagina went further than she thought it did?

Perhaps it wasn't right to separate the two. They combined to form this gestalt of utter bliss, pleasure beyond measure. It made her squirm and rotate her hips, feeling the knot rotate and drag, making his cock shift and stimulate her in new ways. But even then, the best part was yet to come.

The knot grew, swelling to a level that was almost uncomfortable, but stopping right before it would have become so. Bostryx grunted, every muscle in his body tightening.

"Here it comes," he huffed, eyes shut in exertion.

Anthela knew that it could be described as a spurt. In fact, Bostryx might have called it one. But to her, it felt like a spigot had been opened, and she had been fucking a garden hose this entire time. Except this water was warm, thick, and virile.

Bostryx's orgasm was quiet. He made no noises outside of heavy breathing and rhythmic slaps as he bucked repeatedly with what little space was afforded by their tie. It didn't do anything to stem the onrush of cum, but the grinding motions of his knot felt wonderful.

The ardeo fever hadn't hit yet--she was still herself. So this was what breeding felt like, unclouded by ardeo. This was the way their ancestors had mated, fully aware of the act, remembering every bit of it. The anti-ardeo movement made sense, now. Removing the dependence on ardeo wasn't advocating for extinction; it was advocating that all sex be like this.

The semen splattering into her gave way to a new sensation, a faux pressure and squeezing that spiked in intensity and refused to stop growing. Her vaginal walls spasmed of their own accord, pointlessly trying to encourage Bostryx further, past what was already an excessive amount of enthusiasm.

Anthela was loitering on the pleasant edge of an orgasm, sitting atop a hill but refusing to roll down it. Bostryx still had a stream flowing into her, hoping to get her rolling with those grinding half-thrusts.

It was enough. Anthela came, clenching down on that entire length. A rush of semen was forced out by the motion, seeping past Bostryx's knot, a pool of white smearing onto their hips and plopping onto the floor.

She loosened, and then clamped down on his cock again, rhythmically milking it for all Bostryx was willing to give--which was apparently still a lot, though he had begun to slow down. She hissed through gritted teeth. It felt so good, so right.

The two became a squirming, heaving mess of green and blue scales, humping against each other, pulling their bodies closer in concurrent orgasm. But eventually their pace slowed; Anthela's clenches had become occasional and sporadic, and Bostryx was leaking and pulsing in the afterglow.

"Ohh..." Anthela groaned, grinding against him, loving the full, seeping feeling it gave.

"Good?" he hummed.

"Amazing. You were amazing. I still feel all tingly and warm."

"I had fun, too. That was really hot."

Anthela shifted. The knot was still firmly inside her, and she was quite alright with that. It was beginning to turn her on, again. Bostryx had said they had extra time, hadn't he? She couldn't quite remember. The details had become fuzzy--remembering things was such a chore.

"Now what?" she asked.

"Well, I can pull out. It's not the most pleasant experience, but it's doable. I think your fever should be going soon, though. And if we're just going to end up in the same position... why bother?"

He was right. That tingling, warm sensation had begun to burn. She wasn't just turned on; she was ready for round two.

The world became just them as everything else fell away. Anthela rolled them to the side, off the chaise and onto the ground. She straddled Bostryx and began to grind her hips against his, having retained the knot despite flipping onto him. He had looked surprised at first, but now his head was to the side, panting with his eyes closed.

Their mating was the matching of a lock and key, the seamless meshing of involute gears. The feeling was not simply one of pleasure, but one of profound rightness. She was glad they were knotted, that she was on top; she had no greater fear than that of losing this feeling. She could ensure she wouldn't, this way.

Why hadn't he orgasmed yet? She had taken him to the hilt and was providing plenty of stimulation. Something was wrong. She sped up her gyrations, pleased as Bostryx grunted and tried to thrust into her.

He said something, but she wasn't paying enough attention to understand what it was. It made her look at his head, though. She noticed his neck. That could work.

She nuzzled her snout into the crook of his neck, just below the chin. Bostryx blocked her with his head at first, hiding the sensitive scales there. But with a little nudging, she managed to worm her way in there. Then she licked, slathering saliva over those vulnerable scales, humming happily as she watched Bostryx throw his head back and roar.

She kept licking as she felt a jet of semen splash into her, so wonderfully cooling and relaxing. Her pussy clamped down on his cock, demanding more. He seemed more than happy to oblige, giving her a second spurt, then another.

Anthela stopped licking as those cold splashes sparked a cascade of pleasure, eliciting a roar from her. She rode the orgasm, squeezing in time with Bostryx's tired thrusts, keeping pressure to avoid any leaks. It was amazing--her vision went to static, sounds quiet, all senses subordinate to the ones coming from her loins.

Bostryx gave a few more spurts before he stopped, panting heavily. Anthela let herself fall atop him, belly to belly, resting her head on his chest, near his neck. They laid like that for a few minutes, reveling in afterglow and mutual closeness. Anthela stirred and looked at him.

"Welcome back," he cooed. "Have fun?"

"Mmm. You?"

"It was hot. You asked for a pretty quick turnaround from me, though. Kinda violated a refractory period there."

"Sorry... I barely remember. Did it hurt?"

"Discomfort, not pain. Don't worry, far from the first or last time. Usually my timing is better, though. And it's still fun, regardless."

She hummed, smiling at him with half-lidded eyes. "Oh... will there be eggs?"

"The odds have never been good, but I don't think they get better than this. Your first visit, my first appointment of the week--everything's ideal. Maybe one in five?"

"One in five..." she thought. Not an abstract chance--that was a real future she would have to consider.

"You'll know in a few days. You'd be able to smell it. There's nothing you need to do until our next session. If you do become gravid, we'll walk through next steps then."

"Okay," she said, nuzzling into him. "How much longer do we have? I'm comfy."

"We have some time," he said, draping a wing over them.