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Fyra grunted, hilting herself in Tia's well-used slit again, carelessly spilling another load of cum into her. She'd just have to hold those eggs back. That was her duty as a breeding slave, after all; always being ready to get rutted by her owner. Fyra had been watching her lay them and the show had gotten her worked up enough that she'd decided to take a turn stretching her slave-pet open.

Truth be told, she was, perhaps, a little bored of the feral dragoness. It was the ultimate problem of being so long-lived. Everything got boring after the novelty wore off, and the novelties were few and far between, even in a city like Harkenwood. She wasn't as old as some of the truly ancient dragons, and if this was already happening, what would she be like in another hundred years? Curled up in a cave, comatose, only living to briefly wake up when a slave needed to be bred, or an adventurer needed cryptic advice on their adventures?

No, certainly not. She'd keep pursuing the new and exciting until the end of her days, or at least as long as her body lasted. Fyra yanked her knot out of Tia's body and a cum-covered egg immediately followed, coupled with a sigh of relief from the other dragoness. She was all but entirely broken now. No, not broken, that was such a dirty word. She'd learned her place as the plaything of a superior dragon. In a detached sense, Fyra was a little jealous of her; simply getting to enjoy being the focus of her perversions, rather than having to worry about life, or find distractions to break up the monotony.

Maybe one day she'd try being a pet, herself. Maybe not. Really, life was a smorgasbord of vaguely appetizing dishes. One thing was for certain; the menu broadened a lot when one cast side irrelevant notions of right and wrong.

Fyra tugged on Tia's collar, and the feral dragoness obediently turned her head, mouth already gaping open to catch the stream of urine she knew was coming. Fyra sighed with relief as she emptied her bladder straight down her slave's throat, filling her belly with the acrid, golden liquid. Tia swallowed without even a hint of resistance. Well, perhaps her nostrils scrunched up a little, a somewhat bothered look in her eyes, but that was acceptable enough. Fyra'd never really met someone who _enjoyed_her taste, even if it aroused them.

"Ya think ah should find 'nother slave ta keep ya company?" she asked, while Tia was still drinking her morning brew, as it were. It was a thought she'd been entertaining recently, seeing just how much of the city she might be able to take over if she really set her mind to breeding. Chances were that she could do it, and it was a good excuse to exercise the most dominant and cruel of her draconic urges.

Granted, there was also a smaller chance that the ordinators would catch and subdue her, which meant outright unpleasant_consequences, but at least that wasn't _boredom¸ that most toxic of emotions.

"Yah, ya need a playmate, someun' to..." she trailed off, slipping her softening cock out of Tia's muzzle by the time she'd finished sucking out the last few drops of her urine. She had spotted that one deer, recently, but it was hard to tell what her deal was. Immensely magical, yet physically stunted. The kind of person who'd get snatched up by even less moral actors than Fyra herself if she kept wandering through the Districts alone.

Oh, there were much worse people out there. In the end, Fyra cared for her slaves, if only in the most draconic of senses. Others did not. Really, it'd be a mercy to catch that deer for herself. What was her name again? Eve? No, Evelyn-von-somethingorother. Probably the product of fey blood given her diminutive stature and strange gait, and specifically concentrated fey blood, which meant she was the result of yet another small clan of feybloods and their bizarre, purity-obsessed inbreeding.

Not that Fyra didn't do it herself, but she_was lucky in that her genes were scrambled enough to produce perfectly healthy offspring with anyone. If it was like with the feybloods, where every generation was increasingly deformed until entire bloodlines collapsed under the weight of their own _purity?

Ya, not for me.

So really, it'd be two mercies to catch her. Not only would she save her from the really unpleasant individuals of the Districts, but Fyra's unique mutations could ensure that Evelyn's bloodline continued, because from how she'd seen the deer-girl walk, if they kept at whatever her clan was doing, she'd not produce any viable offspring.

Was it sound reasoning? Well, sound enough for her, at least. It wasn't as if she felt any need to truly justify her actions to anyone, unless that "anyone" was a much bigger and stronger dragon, or perhaps a squad of mages preparing to put her in solitary confinement. When they said solitary, they meant_it too. Miles underground and all alone. They simply called it _imprisonment.

Fyra shook her head. She was letting her mind wander. There was prey to stalk and she was wasting time. Her hand briefly caressed Tia's collared neck, drawing an appreciate purr from the breeder. Then, she set off, leaving her little hideout, flying to perch on that same rooftop she'd spotted the deer from earlier.

Evelyn wasn't in the Districts by choice, of course. She knew that better than anyone. Whereas others usually came here for recreation or darker purposes, her reason to be here was so she could survive._She wasn't healthy. The practices of her ancestors had left her _needing to take genetic stabilizers and hormone balancers to keep herself from dissolving into a puddle of shattered DNA. Well, not literally so. But they kept her heart beating, and they replaced what her own underdeveloped body couldn't produce.

The side effects weren't bad, either. Each new influx of hormones left her incredibly wanton, sometimes needing to have an entire crowd fuck her to take the edge off. In contrast to what Fyra figured, most people didn't dare take advantage of her. She all but radiated_magic - the one upside to her so-called purity - and even though she didn't know how to _use it, very few wanted to take the risk of setting her off. And so, they all obliged, wearing condoms rather than risking getting the deer pregnant. It was especially important with how fertile the drugs she needed kept her. Just one drop of cum inside her over-fertile, wanting body and she'd be so swollen with life that she'd be entirely unable to fend for herself.

And whether or not that life would even manage to grow within her, she didn't know. She didn't want to take that risk. Neither did any of her lovers. She was meant to be bred by her pure_relatives, eventually, after all. Not let some mongrel fuck his pups into her, and _hope that she survived.

Fyra looked at the doe meet up with her dealer, just out of sight. Evelyn, Evelyn... von... something. Even the small bag of pills looked heavy in her hand, and Fyra, despite her typical nature, couldn't help but feel sorry for her. She reeked of lust and magic, a scent almost like burning ozone but more difficult to pick out, but Evelyn _looked_like a walking, helpless snack. Fyra saw many of her fellow less-than-subtle predators follow her every movement.

One of these days, one of them would definitely pounce her. As Evelyn turned around - slipping her chemical lifeline into her thick, silken robe - Fyra was halfway expecting to have to fight off a particularly burly minotaur who got so close to the deer that it was a wonder she didn't set off running. He looked around, probably looking for the ordinators, but his eyes met Fyra's instead, in the distance. She wagged her finger. The minotaur seemed to consider it a challenge for a moment, but there was a certain honor even here. Honor and self-preservation in equal measures, and not only did Fyra have the right of first claim, she was too evenly matched to challenge. The minotaur mimed a sigh, with a look of irritation in his eyes, and then turned around, walking away with a snort.

Dumb brute, Fyra thought, her muscles slowly relaxing. That was way too close for comfort. She didn't want to get into any pointless fights, especially as even if she won - and she would - it meant she'd have to track down the deer again.

What the lesser dominants couldn't comprehend was that there was no way the deer would even need to be kidnapped. She'd submit willingly with the right approach, and willing slaves always made for better ones. Who had time to deal with an unruly, rebellious thing when they could instead have a wanton, slutty servant who was so addicted to being used_that they'd beg for it? It was up to the half-dragoness to show how it's done, as always. _One-a these days ah really gotta start a gang o' my own.

She stepped out onto the dirt-caked, worn street to intercept the little doe the moment she stepped onto the crossroads, from which one path lead to Fyra's den and the other out of the distrcts. Jus' hafta not set 'er off accidentally an' this should be a piece of cake...

"Lookin' for some fun?" she drawled in her most charming voice, keeping a careful eye on the doe's wide eyes, her body language, making sure she wasn't too intimidating. Not yet.

"Mh- oh, oh yeah. Maybe," Evelyn replied. She'd already taken one of those pills, her body trying its best to deal with the influx of hormones. Fyra could smell it on her, the fertile tang of ovulation mingling with that magical, static-like sensation that warped the air around her. The latter was subtle. Only inherently magical species usually sensed it. Luckily for her, Fyra was a dragoness. "Wh-what kinda fun are you thinking about?" she asked.

Kinda oblivious, ain't she, Fyra thought. Her cock was visibly swollen already. She was not being subtle.

"Well, a lil' thing like you, wanderin' around the 'stricts all alone?" Fyra rumbled. "Stinkin' o' heat, too. I think what ya need is this..." she continued, brushing a scaly hand over her half-erect shaft. The deer's big eyes seemed to widen even more as she noticed, a barely noticeable quiver of arousal going through her form. "A proper ruttin'."

"Mm, I really do, but... I don't know you," Evelyn squeaked. Her little nipples left a visible outline in the thin fabric of her robe. Her nostrils flared, as if picking up some scent that she really liked.

Fyra caught that little inhalation and took a step closer. She hadn't washed herself since meeting Tia, and the stale musk of a few solid weeks of mating clung to her thickly. Most people couldn't quite appreciate that, the filthiness, but she'd lived in the Districts for long enough that she'd taken a liking to being just as a dirty as the place itself, letting the scents of its perversions stick to her. Smoke, lust, sweat, cum and cunt-juice fresh and crusted on her scales, splashes of piss she'd not bothered to clean off. To the wrong person, it was downright offensive, and Fyra liked it that way. Made sure they'd struggle to get close to her. But to the _right_person, the kind who really, often secretly so, wanted to be just as much of a filthy, carnal beast... well, they tended to like it. It left them wanting to rub against the dragoness like cats in heat.

Evelyn inhaled more deeply, the dragoness' unwashed smell burning in her nostrils like sweet ambrosia. Her heritage had left her senses warped, and she knew that this wasn't a _good_scent, or that at least the average person wouldn't think so, but she couldn't even begin to deny the effect it had on her. That instinctive, heated clenching - even the rather naïve Evelyn knew exactly what that meant, it was how she felt when at those clubs, with all the rubber-clad cocks all hard and ready for her - and that building sensation of wetness, much fresher and more pleasant than Fyra's stink.

"Yah, I can tell ya need it," Fyra goaded, giving her cock a firm pump to get it harder, and then, acting on an impulse, stepping closer yet to the doe, and cupping her stubby little muzzle with that slime-covered hand, rubbing it into her nostrils. "Howsat? Ah could leave ya smellin' jus' like 'at..."

Evelyn moaned against her palm, inhaling the musky smell of sex greedily, her weak little body trembling with excitement at what the dirty dragoness was suggesting. As long as she wore a condom too, it'd be alright, right? As long as none of that sexy white stuff got into her. That'd be alright. And if she had a shower afterwards.

Most others who visited the Districts knew to stay away from Fyra in particular. She was either a rival, too mutually costly to tangle with - the minotaur was one of those, a well-known slaver himself, and they'd already fought enough for a lifetime - or she was simply known as a danger to the non-criminally inclined. There was even a saying in Harkenwood. It went something like "red scales and a bad smell, turn around and run like hell". Which amused Fyra greatly.

But the deer was sheltered. She'd probably only been allowed to leave her purist collective recently, and clearly their education was lacking. Hence her wild orgies, trusting strangers to not "accidentally" end up spurting their cum into her receptive body. Why would anyone do her harm, after all? Why would anyone want her to get pregnant? It simply didn't make any sense to someone so naïve.

So, she eagerly followed the dragoness off the footpath and into the alleyways, and then to her little den. The same place she'd brought Tia. An abandoned penthouse from back when the Districts were meant to be an upper class area, that she'd quickly claimed when the previous owners had fled. It was kept tidy enough despite a certain state of disrepair.

As Tia heard her mistress approach, she quickly ducked into the restroom. It didn't actually work - they'd cut the water years ago - and as such nobody actually went in. But she'd quickly realized that it was perfect for watching Fyra break others, something that got her incredibly wet. And Fyra always encouraged her to watch to remind her what a good slave her had been, letting it happen to her.

The moment Fyra got Evelyn into the bedroom, she threw her onto the well-loved carpet - still sticky with the sexual filth of the last few nights - and straddled the little deer. Her eyes were wide, on the verge of panic, realizing for the first time that she might've been lured into something she'd regret as she saw the predatory, _hungry_look on Fyra's face.

For a brief moment, she stayed like that. Evelyn shivered as she felt the dirty rug beneath her, wet and sticky against her well-groomed fur. The couldn't help but squirm, in equal parts wanting to get up to clean herself, and on some perverted level, wanting to smell more like Fyra did. It was intoxicating, somehow. She closed her eyes, trying to keep herself from being overwhelmed, and it only brought more attention to the disgusting - but somehow appealing - scents that hung like miasma in the air. Fyra's mixed arousal, the scent of her well-used cock and the more feminine tang oozing down her legs as she prepared to thoroughly claim the little doe. Her sweaty, dirty rankness. The stale air in the room, like a sickly sweet rot, mingling with the seductive scent of sex.

"Yah, you're a dirty lil' doe, ain'tcha?" she grinned. "Let's get ya smellin' the part."

If anything, Evelyn screwed her eyes tighter shut. She felt Fyra tense up briefly, and then relax with a relieved sigh, and then she felt something warm and wet soak into her fur, splashing over her fancy robes and over her faint curves, wetting every inch of her and pooling in her bellybutton. It felt comfortable, almost. She opened her eyes and gasped with shock upon seeing the dragoness squatting over her, freely emptying her bladder in a golden stream over her previously clean body. The warm liquid even ran over her shuddering folds, and it felt oh so good, her drug-fuelled state of lust leaving her so very sensitive that each droplet of urine running over her clit almost felt like a caress.

And then, Fyra leaned over her, pressing their bodies together, and kissed her. Her mouth tasted even worse than her foul-mouthed would even suggest, but Evelyn could only gasp, letting her tongue invade her mouth.

It felt good. Being so thoroughly claimed_and _befouled at once. And there was more to come.

Fyra had observed the deer's escapades before. She pulled out a condom once the kiss ended, making a show of rolling it into her throbbing shaft, and Evelyn moaned with desire. She wasn't far enough gone to want to get fucked without one, not yet. What she didn't notice was a stealthy claw slicing through the tip of the latex, through that little bulb-reservoir that'd normally catch any dangerous cum. Fyra grabbed her head and pushed her nose right into her armpit before doing it, grinning as the poor deer's eyes rolled back and teared up as she inhaled. The scent could get a little overwhelming for the dragoness herself, sometimes, and as such, _sometimes_she showered. And she was used to it.

Yet this little fey-blood, used to pleasant scents of flowers and perfumes, inhaled. She had no other choice. But rather than an expression of disgust, the look on her face changed to an almost rapturous expression of bliss. It wasn't that she liked it. It was that it was so overwhelming that her senses somehow wrapped around themselves, overwhelmed, interpreting the stench as good, somehow. It filled her lungs, and from there, radiated down through her belly and into her loins, all seemingly focusing on a single, white-hot point between her legs, where her own lust was drooling out of her.

Ya, thassit. Smell that stink. Yer gonna smell th' same soon 'nuff.

"Ready?" Fyra growled. Not that she was expecting any answer from the incapacitated, helpless Evelyn. Instead, she grabbed her ankles and almost snapper her in two, pressing her legs over her head and baring that vulnerable, open cunt. Her meaty, warm, latex-clad shaft slapped against that sopping wet hole as the dragoness clambered on top of her newest conquest.

Evelyn cast a brief glance down, along her body. Though her vision was blurred, eyes watering from the intense smell of it all - including the stink of Fyra's piss soaked into her fur - she could at least tell that the dragoness was wearing a condom. And that meant she'd come out of this no worse for wear after a thorough shower. So she nodded, with a quiet, whimpering, affirmative moan. Even through the latex, Fyra's cock was so incredibly warm and hard against her lust-inflamed cunt that she found herself weakly trying to buck herself against it. Onto it.

She didn't need to, of course. With a deep-throated, possessive growl, Fyra nudged the pierced tip of the condom against Evelyn's folds and thrust into her. Just that motion alone, even with her wetness, was enough to peel the rubber back along her shaft, leaving the dangerous, cum-spewing tip bare, with nothing between it and Evelyn's thirsty, receptive womb. The drugs didn't manage to make her body develop any further. She'd always keep her boyish figure and her child-like mind, innocent despite the sheer hedonism she engaged in, but they pushed her ovaries into overdrive.

After all, if she were to stay with her clan, they'd have expected to have to try again and again before managing to produce viable offspring. Nobody had planned for a mongrel dragoness sinking her throbbing cock into the poor purebred deer's body, ready to douse her eggs with the blessing of her ever-virile seed. None of those little swimmers would care one bit for any purity. Nor would her body do anything but happily accept them once they erupted into her. Whatever the offspring would end up looking like, two things were certain; they'd be viable and strong, and there'd be a lot of them.

Evelyn didn't know any of that. Instead, she only felt the dragoness' firm, thick shaft push into her, and it felt like heaven, with the meaty ridges scratching itches she'd never even known she had. It was dissolute, blissful, exactly what she needed. She could only vaguely tell that Fyra's cock felt a little too slippery, a little too warm deep inside her to still be covered, but that thought never really settled, shaken loose by each rutting buck of Fyra's hips. Yet, even though she_didn't know, her body did, _glutting on the sensation of a bare, unprotected shaft sinking into her, knowing that it'd give her womb the thorough seeding it needed. In turn, those base biological urges rewarded her in spades, with a warm, fuzzy sense of happiness at letting it all happen, and ecstatic, spasming jolts so strong that Fyra had to strain to keep her legs from kicking.

She was a mess. A sodden, stinking mess, barely more than just a drooling hole to breed, merely an animal in all the best ways. Evelyn's robes were torn and stained, and yet she didn't care. All she needed was more, more of that heavenly pumping between her legs, more of those ridges grinding against every sensitive spot inside her, all at once, more of Fyra's dominant, lusty growls. More!

More was exactly what Fyra was going to give her. She ran her fingers along the building, frothy mess of their union and smeared the slimy, fragrant mess over the deer's nostrils, delighting in how her eyes rolled back at the intensity of the stench. Her hips pumped into her with obvious intent, holding nothing back, hard enough to bruise the poor doe, focused entirely on breaking her. Making her mind associated the stink and the roughness with pure pleasure, mind-shattering, twitchy ecstasy. That, and breeding her, like a bitch in heat. Unlike the deer, Fyra was perfectly aware that the condom hang in useless tatters around the base of her shaft, feeling every quiver and quake of the doe's sex around her raw and intimate. The way it was always meant to be.

But she was rapidly careening towards an orgasm, now. Though experienced, there was only so much she could do to hold back her body's natural reactions. Even now, she could feel her internal balls tightening, bunching up, preparing to unload a torrent of life-giving seed and thus sealing Evelyn's fate as her second dedicated breeder. Jus' a few more minutes, nnh-

Evelyn quivered, her body tensing up, the musky scent of her dirty lover burning in her lungs. It was an aching release, when it hit, scorching through any attempt at sane thought as she suddenly convulsed with that wet, heated ecstasy. It began in her loins, inner walls clamping down hard, eagerly, around the virile and dangerous shaft, milking it to the pace of the spasms of pleasure wracking her body. It spread from there, enveloping her entire body, her muscles twitching uncontrollably, her head lolling back as she weakly thrashed in those orgasmic throes, only to erupt from her muzzle in a long, drawn-out song of pleasure. A stuttering, moaning one that followed the same rhythm as her clenching sex, an unconscious plea for her mate, her owner, to finally seed her.

Well, consciously - what little remained of it - Evelyn wanted to feel Fyra fill the condom that'd surely protect her. Her body wanted to be fertilized, and knew exactly what it was getting into.

Fyra groaned. A few more frantic thrusts, almost snapping the doe in two as she hilted into her, knot and all. The fleshy ridges of her cock flared, pushing back against and digging into the velvet walls of Evelyn's receptive sex. A delightful, dominant quiver of lust made her thighs twitch as she held herself there, letting the pressure grow to unbearable levels with minute little thrusts that tugged at the deer's folds. Then, she released it all. A climax so strong she actually saw little stars jolting in jagged paths through her vision as her cock first bucked deep inside Evelyn, and then on the second throb, along with the first wet, silvery rope of seed erupting into her, it was almost strong enough to make her pass out. The condom did nothing to stop it. It couldn't, torn as it was, barely anything more than shreds, now. All of that seed - and there was a lot - pooled against Evelyn's cervix, and she drank deeply, with instinctual need.

Tia was grinding her swollen sex against the floor as she watched, desperately trying to get a good angle, watching her own claim someone else. Not that the deer could ever be as productive a breeder as she was, Tia told herself. There was some perverse pride to her new position in life. Her clutches were always big. Someone as small as Evelyn would give birth to maybe one or two of Fyra's precious offspring. There was _some_jealousy to her thinking. But it wasn't as if Fyra would leave her belly empty, either. In a way, there was also something delightfully nasty about knowing she wasn't anything special.. Just another womb to fill.

She ground her feral cunt against the long-dry showerhead, against the sink, leaving smears of her wetness over each, struggling to push herself over the edge as she watched the base of her owner's cock flex and throb, knowing she was seeding another new conquest. Was that expression of bliss the same as hers had been, that day, drunk on sheer lust as her womb was claimed as a breeding toy for Fyra? It must've been.

The sight was erotic enough that a sudden clench and spasm sprayed the bathroom with her juices as she quivered, adding more of her own lusty scent to the heavy air. It wasn't the satisfying kind of orgasm she'd get with Fyra's cock inside her, but it was, at least, enough to take the edge off. She took a couple of steps closer to the mating pair. No point in keeping her enormously swollen belly hidden from the deer, now. It wasn't as if Evelyn could stop it from happening to her too, now. Her womb had already been pumped of Fyra's seed and there was no way back.

Evelyn didn't even notice the feral dragoness. She didn't notice anything for a good few minutes, floating instead on what felt like a very warm ocean, a kind of satisfied, primal reptile-brain haze, wet and gooey. And with that incredibly rich stench_of satisfaction thick all around her. The first thing she really focused on, once she began to emerge from that state, was the last weak twitch of Fyra's shaft inside her. Then, the fact that her thoroughly bred cunt felt _sloppy_and _warm. With something much thicker than her own arousal oozing out of her.

Sperm. The condom had failed. She almost panicked, but then Fyra's talons closed around her throat. Tightly. Not so tightly that she couldn't breathe, but hard enough to bruise her skin.

"Yeh, tha's cum alright," she growled. "An' yer full o' it. Like a good slave."

Evelyn choked on her words. Fyra leaned down to bite her shoulder, as she kept purring, her voice heavy with satisfaction and a kind of malignant joy.

"An' next, yer gonna go submit th' paperwork. To be my slave. An' ya'll not mention a word o' any force. Or ah'll feed you to my pet, here..." she nodded towards Tia. The other dragoness didn't look so fierce, heavily pregnant as she was. Nor would she _ever_eat someone. But Evelyn didn't know that, only that she looked as if she could.

"Ah'm not a cruel mistress..." she hissed. "It's for five years. A life of... relative luxury. An' then, if ya want, freedom."

Of course, the deer would never want_freedom, if Fyra was successful in her conditioning. She'd _break the weak little elfblood until she was nothing but a fully obedient slave. After those five years were up, she'd willingly stay. But the time limit helped push her towards accepting, where merely the threat of death might not have.

Evelyn fought not to cry, but eventually, she did. Still, what choice did she have? Her clan wouldn't have her back with her womb off some mongrel's seed, her purity stained and the bloodline ruined. Well, saved. But they wouldn't see it that way. A slap - not too hard, but firm enough to make her open her tear-filled eyes, snapping her out of her shock - across her muzzle brought her back to reality. She nodded. It was only five years. As a feyblood, she'd live for far longer.

She nodded again. The contract was signed later that day, with the deer walking to the officials wearing a thick metal collar, and dripping with her new owner's seed, for everyone to see. Wolf-whistles, curious eyes, the occasional sneaky grope that Fyra didn't notice. And some that she did, resulting in broken bones. Either way, at the end of it, Evelyn had been thoroughly humiliated, and ready to begin her long, long training as a proper slave.

At first, she tried to resist, to maintain some dignity even as she was used as a trio of holes, a breeding toy with a womb. She tried to not allow herself to be reduced to quite that level of depravity. Yet, as the days, weeks, and eventually months passed - with her all but creaming her brains out around Fyra's thick cock, a wonderful orgasm accompanying every submission - even the pain of it all began to fade.

The days began to blur together. At some point, Evelyn realized she had developed a conditioned response to the treatment. Every time she saw Fyra's cock slip out, she felt herself grow tingly and wet in response, her lower lips drooling for more of her love. She stopped needing to be reminded of what would happen if she didn't comply. It took a lot longer to truly break her, although the seeds had been sown with that first shot of cum.

Life as Fyra's slave wasn't bad, was it? She was well fed, and got fucked alongside of the dragoness, Tia, anytime her owner felt horny.

She did, of course, notice a bump in her belly about a month in. Undeniable proof that Fyra's seed had taken. It worried her, at first, although Fyra reassured her, reminding the deer that there was no risk for unviable offspring. Not with her. Then, the dragoness fucked her again for good measure. Another powerful orgasm served to solidify the connection between breeding and pleasure in her mind, associating her slowly growing belly with mind-shattering orgasms, leaving in that subconscious desire to have it happen again.

At some point it became second nature. All Fyra had to do was get hard, and Evelyn would instinctively flop onto her back and spread her legs so she could use her for relief. Sometimes for her balls, other times for her bladder.

All of it stopped mattering, at first. Halfway through her pregnancy, it started to feel good.

It started when Fyra decided to take her for a walk. She hesitated at first, knowing how bad she must've smelled at that point. A quick slap later - which Fyra clearly only did to express her love,_or so Evelyn's mind told her - she agreed. Once again she had all those eyes on her, those hungry glances, all knowing just how _slutty and broken_she'd become. Fully aware of the sheer degeneracy of it all, the mindless hedonism that'd reduced her from a relatively proper deer to a heavily pregnant one, full of a _dragon's young, no less, her fur matted and messy with a heady mixture of urine and cum. And the fresh stuff, as always oozing down her legs.

But Fyra would keep her safe. She didn't have anything to worry about, no matter how much they stared. Knowing that only made her love her more. She didn't protest when Fyra decided to rut her right in the central districts, over the counter of one of the seedier market stalls. It was a public display of love, wasn't it? Her owner was only showing everyone how much she loved her slave, with each rough, careless thrust. She was only a receptacle for her cum, nothing more than that. This was her whole purpose in existence, and it felt amazing.

So it went. By the time the moment she was dreading was drawing closer, she was so swollen she couldn't pleasure Fyra except as a toilet, so Tia got most of her attention. It's only fair isn't it? She wasn't capable, and the only attention she deserved was her owner's cock. So right now, she deserved none at all.

Well, except one thing. One day, about nine months later, it happened. Her sudden, pained scream drew Fyra's attention. Instinctively, she flopped onto her back, spreading her legs, following nothing more than the ingrained urges of every mammal as she began to give birth.

Fyra mostly watched with a cruel kind of interest. She knew it'd hurt. But with the preparations she'd taken, she knew the deer would survive it. In the end, as cruel as she could be, she didn't want her slaves permanently damaged or dead, and so she'd been lacing Evelyn's meals with even more drugs. The kind that toughened the body, helping with birth, strong enough to overcome even Evelyn's scrambled genetics.

The most interesting part, to Fyra, was that it was a live birth. After what seemed like hours of the deer pushing for dear life, on the verge of a panic attack held back only by the searing agony of each push, the head of a new whelp crowned between Evelyn's legs. Fyra made a mental note of that. She normally gave people eggs, but this time, it seemed the fey blood was strong enough to result in something different.

At least whelps, even live ones, were born with rubbery spines and scales rather than the sharp ones they'd have later in life.

Evelyn gave a sigh of relief by the time the first whelp was out. Tia nudged it onto the deer's belly so it could nurse from her milk-laden breasts, and it did so instinctively and roughly, sharp baby fangs clamping down around her teat. It felt like nothing compared to what she'd just been through, and more than that, her ordeal wasn't over yet. It soon became apparent that she was going to have twins.

Maybe it wouldn't be that hard to take over the districts entirely, Fyra mused as she watched the second round of agony begin. Eh, she'll get useta it. Fyra could, given a few years, breed an entire army of her young. Granted, there was also a very real risk that one of the young would turn on her - maybe several - as dragons were notoriously disloyal. But what was life without some risks?

After all, it wasn't really much effort for_her_ to at least give it a shot. Her slaves would shoulder the burden, as was their lot in life. Her mind was made up from the beginning, and as she watched the second whelp begin to emerge from Evelyn's spasming cunt, a wicked grin slowly crept across her muzzle.

Yeah. No effort at all.