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It wasn't unusual for Morghus to have his head in the clouds as he walked home, fixated on things that could not exist in the world as he knew it. It happened often, ever since he was a child, reading about faraway places, knights and dragons. Specifically, wyverns. He wasn't sure what about their form in particular that did it for him. Be it that it didn't make sense for dragons to have separate wings from their arms or that many of the major dragons from fantasy stories were actually misidentified wyverns, he couldn't say. But it had to be that particular body type for him, that idea of losing his hands powerfully arousing as he took on a bestial form.

Alas, such changes were not possible in his world, no matter how much he longed for them. Still, as he grew older, that wonderment turned into an interest in art, stories, and role-playing, wondering what it would be like to undergo such a change. Of course, the interest was more than a little arousing, and the source of many a masturbation session. He was pent-up over such a scenario often, not something he confided in with any of his closest friends and family, but a truth all the same. Surely, he wasn't the only one that felt such about transformation, but it was something he was, for the most part, too shy to share.

After a particularly rough day at work, Morghus came home, feeling that familiar pent-up need from a period of daydreaming. It was hardly a guilty pleasure, something that was good for him, at least physically, and there was no reason for him not to indulge, being alone at the time. So, with the image of turning into his ideal wyvern self in mind, Morghus collapsed on the couch, unzipping his pants to tease his turgid erection, feeling it leaking already. It had been some days since he'd had the energy to indulge, and, for some reason, it seemed his focus on transformation and wyverns, in general, was higher than normal, making such action an inevitability.

Yet, no amount of self-pleasure could detract from the fact he could not change in real life, and anything he tried to envision for himself was fantasy at best. The idea of changing into a wyvern, to truly be one in real life, was more wonderful a prospect than anything he could imagine, despite the impossibility of such ever coming to fruition. Still, it was fun to think about. And he planned to enjoy it to the fullest, wishing perhaps to any that might hear with the power to grant such a request. Not that such beings existed, mind, but the thought that maybe, just maybe, it could be possible...

"I can grant your wish if it is something you truly want..." a voice in his head seemed to say, as though answering his question. Surely, Morghus was imagining it, as enticing as the idea was that such a being could give him what he desired more than anything.

"I wish I could turn into my wyvern self..." Morghus said aloud, not worried about the absurdity of the statement. It was silly, he knew, to say out loud. But thinking about the possibility would surely accentuate his masturbation experience, and he was down to go along with it to play to the fantasy.

"Perhaps you can. Go ahead and give in..." Said the voice in his head, and with that, Morghus decided to stroke his cock, figuring he was imagining things. As much as the voice seemed to be coming from inside his head and not his own thoughts, it was surely impossible and he figured it was silly to think otherwise. Feeling the trembles of pleasure from his sensitive rod was nice, for certain. With such excitement, it wouldn't take him long to reach orgasm, though if there was any chance he could cum again in short order than night, Morghus was eager to go as many times as he could!

Yet, it did not take more than a few moments of touching himself for Morghus to notice something was off. It was as though he was more erect than at any point in his life, cock almost straining against his perceived maximum size. It was almost like he was growing impossibly turgid, and more so the more he stroked. Morghus was sure he was not more than six inches normally, but the member he possessed was closer to eight, even nine as he continued to touch himself. And still growing as much as he was able to perceive...

With the growth seemed to come a warmth playing over his entire body, heating up to the point he figured he should be sweating. But somehow his sweat glands remained void of fluid, and he was forced to suffer, panting from the intensity of a temperature source he could scarcely understand. All he could do to alleviate any discomfort was to continue to touch himself, jerking his seemingly growing rod and preparing to blow the load that had been brewing in his testicles.

Yet, no matter how much he tried, Morghus couldn't quite make the desired release that seemed always out of reach. Grunting his frustrations now, Morghus stoked his rod with gusto. Was his cock always this big? Morghus was harder than any time he could imagine, and the ache of need was getting worse and worse as the moments ticked by, as though stroking himself off was not bringing relief. At least, not in its current state...

The sight of the tip of his cock starting to point, ridges forming around the cleft like some sort of crown made him stare in a mixture of horror and fascination. His penis was becoming impossibly engorged as his foreskin peeled down, exposing throbbing veins and reddened flesh that was slowly developing uniform ridges down to the base. Strangest, perhaps was the sensation of the skin around his member pulling apart, forming an opening of sorts around its base comprised of repurposed foreskin. The only word that came to mind was a vent like a reptile or bird might possess, though something no human had ever seen on their groin. Even more bizarre was that his cock continued to grow, ten inches now and showing no signs of stopping.

In his lust-fueled stupor, Morghus couldn't help but imagine his penis as that of a wyvern's, as much as such should never be possible. Even down to the moist slit at its base that would hide his member while not in use, it seemed that he was getting his wish, though he could hardly bring himself to care about the repercussions. All he needed to do was keep fapping, hoping to all hope that he wasn't fooling himself in his fantasies to think he was really changing. His cock felt too sensitive, impossibly large, and drawing more and more blood to fuel its erectile tissue. It was impossible to think about anything than the need to cum, and the more his penis altered, the more Morghus felt his end approaching. Just a little more...Yes!

Nearly whiting out from the pleasure, Morghus felt himself go, draconic cock pulsating as he blew a load all over his chest and groin. The scent was intoxicating, rank, and musky to the point that it triggered further globs of ejaculation to erupt from his member, accentuating his pleasure. Far from the average seven seconds it took to experience orgasmic bliss, Morghus felt his release go on forever, imagining himself more the wyvern he desired to be. Despite any potential lasting repercussions, he found himself reveling in the pleasure of his new penis and all the promise it gave for the rest of his life going forward.

It was the sensation of his balls deflating that caused Morghus to realize what had truly happened. It was pleasant, his testicles ejecting more of their seminal burden before altering shape, likely something more suited for an internal position. His penis, too, was starting to recede, the newly formed segments collapsing on each other, compressing his member for retraction into his new orifice. It made sense to his post-orgasmic mind that he would return to his flaccid state now that he had achieved release.

Yet, as awareness started to return to him, Morghus gazed down at his halfway-retracted penis with equal parts reverence and shock. Though he should have been terrified that such a change was happening, Morghus couldn't help but feel the arousal building once again, to the point his penis stopped retracting and instead started to leak again, as though he could cum again at a moment's notice. Only momentarily concerned by the possibility of chaffing, Morghus instead found his new member was made of sterner stuff, and stroking it off had no negative effects as he brought it to full mast. Hell, it was even longer than it had been before he had cum, as though the changes were not yet through with him.

Even the sensation of his slit widening and his testicles deflating further was not enough to deter him from his release as Morghus stroked with reverence. He needed to get off once again and was quickly brought close to achieving it. Better yet, he was able to perceive his body altering, changing to the form of his desires. A popping sensation resonated from his balls, as though one and then the other were being pulled inside of him, leaving his sack empty and hanging from his groin. A momentary concern flowed through his mind just then, thinking that he was losing his maleness. Rather, given the swelling sensation inside of him, it seemed more obvious his testes were settling into his anatomy like the wyvern form he held in such reverence. It was only proof that he was changing, that the words in his head rang true.

Strangest yet was a sensation in his tailbone, like the bones within were starting to separate painlessly and form a bump, pushing at the skin and forcing it to expand around it. The parting bones were soon to enlarge, requiring the formation of calcium deposits to grow and extend, making the protrusion even larger. Soon, it pressed out of his backside, lifting over the waistband of his pants and underwear. Morghus needed to adjust himself on his couch to prevent it from being caught under him, a sign the growth was real. There was no denying it had to be the start of his draconic tail!

"Yess, that's good, let your true self out..." Came the voice within his mind, and Morghus growled his contentment, trying to simulate a more bestial tone. He wasn't afraid of the words in his head, still thinking them to be part of his psyche rather than a separate entity changing him. Either way, there was no denying the reality of the changes as he continued to rub himself with reverence.

All the while, the growth above his ass continued to extend, pressing against the couch now and prompting Morghus to move to adjust himself once more. Its presence on his form was visible if he turned his neck, though he struggled to do so with his attention on his cock as it was. Still skin covered, for now, the growth was pointed at the tip, even starting to twitch the more he focused on it. Nothing he could imagine seeing firsthand could turn him on so much, and he stroked his rod faster, feeling the pleasure radiating through his form from the prospect he was changing into his ideal self.

As his tail continued to extend, and his body began to swell all over, a thought occurred to the changing man, one not foreign to him through his fantasies. Was his masturbation a catalyst for further transformation? If so, there was some motivation to stop before he took things too far. His idealized wyvern form was rather large, and if he continued changing, he would soon outgrow the confines of his meager form and the room he was in. Yet, there was no denying the wish being granted him was the one thing he wanted more than anything he could ever conceive of. And, with that realization, could he even imagine slowing down the process with the desperation to see where the changes would take him? He couldn't stop, wouldn't stop, and wanted more than anything to accelerate the transformation, reveling in ecstasy all the while.

"Yes, that's it, give in to your pleasure, it won't be long..." Mused the voice and Morghus simply couldn't deny the words as his spine continued to stretch and his body swelled with further change. No matter how strange the voice seemed to be, Morghus could not find any fault with it, willing to listen to its encouragement and transform further to please its whims.

By this point, his feet started to feel tight in his socks, as though his toes were beginning their own alterations. A dull ache in the tips seemed to signal his nails were getting longer, their pointed ends pressing against the fabric. It wasn't painful, though they stretched the material of his socks to the point they were soon to pierce the surface. It was exciting, causing Morghus to increase the speed of his masturbation, wanting to explode from his cock at the same time.

By now, a covering of white scales had spread over his slit and groin, causing any hair to fall out in their wake. The same scales coated all the way down to the tip of his still-growing tail, making it twitch its eagerness. The back of it seemed to prickle strangely, and Morghus had enough awareness to look down and see his new growth sporting a series of short spines, even spreading up his back in a row. They were as black as the scales spreading up his back, moving up in a warm, tingling wave as he masturbated his penis with renewed vigor.

Yet, seemingly lacking the ability to reach a much-needed orgasm for now, Morghus was less inclined to continue touching himself and wanted to take stock of his body, figuring a rest was in order. Reluctantly he stopped, though his pleading cock would soon draw him back when he was done admiring himself. By now, his groin was coated with white scutes, which ran down toward the base of his pointed tail and were likely preparing to run up to his exposed belly. His cock was fully draconic, hard as hell, and leaking even though he had cum already. And though he had not changed too much, had not grown toward the proportions he was sure to eventually reach, the sensations of soreness coming from his muscles made Morghus sure it would happen so long as he continued to jerk off.

"Such a handsome creature you will become..." Said the phantom voice in his head, and Morghus hissed his reverence, wrapping his fingers around his cock once more with the hope that such would serve to change him further.

The increased tingling in his feet caused them to twitch as Morghus flexed them, their white claws starting to piece the material as he felt the socks pulled tight between the extending digits. Three toes per foot seemed to pop with further joints, allowing them a modicum more flexibility as he twitched them in an effort to be rid of his socks. Thankful he had taken his shoes off beforehand, Morghus looked beyond his cock to see the digits become adorned with black scales, their claws fully developed even as the base of his foot continued to widen toward the scope of his soon-to-be wyvern body. Smallest toes were pulled into the expanding base of his foot, and his large toes began to move up with the stretching heel, still present on his anatomy though left immobile. The remaining toes felt powerful, curling against the couch as they continued to expand and remove the fragments of sock from them.

As his belly started to expand, exposed from under his green hoodie and shirt, Morghus was excited to see more of the lovely white scutes exposed, something he wished to be covered by. He desired it so badly, to change and become a wyvern, that the loss of his belly button or even the sensitivity in his nipples were not missed, lost to the thinned belly plates that moved to cover them. Morghus could feel them spreading under his clothing, though could not bring himself to take his clothes off, despite his love for them. It was a powerfully arousing prospect to tear from his favorite hoodie to experience a transformation as his body was granted the form he so desperately craved.

The soreness of muscle growth started to play into his calves and thighs, Morghus feeling them swell tightly against the confines of his pants. The muscles were firm enough that they felt no pain from the confinement, though the fabric was starting to tear a little, the fibers parting and allowing his iridescent black scales to shine through. The entirety of his legs were being covered, steadily converting into powerfully muscled dragon legs with vicious talons at the ends. An audible rip was music to his ears as his thighs and calves expanded well beyond human confines, his stretching heel moving to match the new circumference of the limbs. It did leave a passing thought running through his head, however. How big was he going to get? Never having described the exact dimension of his wyvern form, Morghus found himself unsure, though figured he didn't think he could stay in his apartment. But with how horny he was for the changes, there was little chance of him getting up and out before they made his dimensions too large for the front door.

"Soon you will find out, just give in, feel how good it could be..." The voice came as though in response, and Morghus stroked off with renewed vigor, eager to feel the base of his member slide against his slit, and his cock erupt over his form, coaxing the wyvern out of his humanity. Repercussions be damned, especially in the face of his wildest dreams coming true!

Yet, all the changes thus far were a drop in the bucket to the next part of the process, a few wet pops from his fingers sign they were to be removed from their humanity. It started as a tingling sensation from the base of them, and Morghus looked down with some excitement to see the skin between each digit stretching, pulling upward like a thin membrane. The process did not ache but rather created a pleasant heat as the membrane peeled the skin from each side, exposing a layer of black scales. With his other hand, Morghus traced the layer of webbing, feeling how sturdy it was, and how warm as veins peppered its surface, more akin to a bat's wing than anything he could imagine existing in nature. Soon, the shade of the skin lightened toward white as it was drawn up around his fingers, stopping just shy of the tips as Morghus eagerly flexed them, enjoying the alien sensations and finding them to be everything he'd expected and more.

With that, the membranous webbing between his digits made them functionally fused together. That was hardly a drop in the bucket to their eventual form, as much as Morghus hoped. His middle and index fingers, while still around his cock started to expand first, wrapping around the circumference as individual sections stretched twice their human length. His ring fingers followed suit, a little longer than the other two. Still, the fingers maintained their human circumference, if not a little smaller in their wyvern state. His only lament was that it was a little harder to masturbate with their added length, but it was a small price to pay to be granted his deepest wish!

Turned on impossibly by this point, it did not require much contact to feel the pleasure required for release. It was fortunate, given his stretching fingers were now too long to wrap comfortably around his rod. Morghus was forced to rub at it from either side, though the rough contact from the still skin-covered hands was hardly a deterrent against the draconic phallus he now possessed. Soon, the digits were closer to the length of his lower arm as subsequent breaks and repairs to the joints allowed them to reach what he assumed was wyvern size. Morghus was almost brought from his self-pleasure to stare at them in reverence as they reached down below the length of his legs and longer still, what would eventually be required for flight.

While his other fingers grew, his thumb remained relatively in the same configuration. In similar fashion, it appeared his hands were being kept in a relatively human state, though perhaps missing a bone or two to allow them more flexibility in the long run. His pinky fingers, like those on his feet, were forfeit, and Morghus wriggled them one last time for good measure. However, it was hard to care for their loss, especially with the promise of change over his fingers was to bring. Three fingers on each hand, by this point, were long, spindly appendages, little use for rubbing himself off and leaving Morghus slightly annoyed at their difficulty for such a simple task. Still, the changes were relentless, and the tips of his former thumbs popped outward into blunt claws, hardly as thick and sharp as the ones on his feet but present nonetheless. They were magnificent, and had Morghus not been in such a need for masturbation, he would be tempted to play with them further. As it stood, he was left to stare speechless at them, knowing they would soon allow him flight, a particular fancy for the wyvern form. And now, it was finally to be his!

As he removed his winged digits off his cock and stared at their transformation, the tingling he was now used to was starting to slow, then cease altogether, as though the changes themselves had halted. Panic washed over him for a moment, thinking he was being robbed of the change when he was already so close. Morghus wasn't sure what was worse; being trapped as a hybrid being or being denied what he so desperately craved. In the moment he was willing to do almost anything to make the changes come once more. A bestial cry escaped his lips, Morghus frantically trying to rub his cock and keep his erection up in hopes to conclude the changes. He needed it in the worst way!

Powerfully conflicting was how turned on he was by the loss of his hands but how he despised his lack of ability to properly masturbate with them. Though he had no way to know for sure, Morghus was certain that it was the act of self-pleasure spurring on his changes. But with his hands in their current state, it was a trying task to figure out how he could get off. Would it leave him stuck like this? Morghus couldn't let that happen!

Working his fingers down over either side of his draconic prick, Morghus did his best to try and squeeze it, not able to put much pressure on it but enough that minute waves of pleasure started to ebb from his rod. It was sufficient to make him pant, and to Morghus's delight, he realized that his tongue was getting longer in his mouth, a sign the change was beginning anew. He began stroking with vigor, like trying to rub two sticks aflame. An ache from his hips was almost enough to halt his efforts, though he managed it, the desperation to change spurring him on. They were altering, not to put him onto all fours but enough that his stretching skin and extended belly caused him to hunch over, giving him added flexibility. Bending down to view their formation more intimately, Morghus soon discovered that his flexibility was enough to allow his pointed cock tip to rub against his belly. Pushing down with his wing hands, the stimulation became so sublime, that no hint of regret entered his mind. There were no thoughts for the future, only the willingness to change and see where the process took him.

Change continued playing over his form at its steady pace, Morghus feeling the muscle in his arms swelling, lean but powerful as it might be needed for flight. Black scales adorned the upper side of his arms, while the bottoms sported white scales, a perfect representation of his wyvern self. How the being in his mind knew to make him the perfect facsimile of his designed wyvern sona, he had no idea. But he would have it no other way, too enamored to question what was happening.

"Yes, your desire will change you..." Came that strange voice, one that Morghus was now sure was a separate entity that had burrowed within his own psyche. Yet, there was no denying how powerfully arousing the notion was to the point he couldn't bring himself to care what the source was so long as he could be granted his wish.

Along with the powerful stretching of muscle came the hollowing of his bones, something that was barely perceived but something he knew would be needed for flight. The same was happening to every bone in his body at once, calcium deposits hollowing out and growing larger around the muscles as they stretched and thinned, enabling him the ability to soar through the sky as his wyvern self was apt to do. The realization kept his erection at its apex, and Morghus reached down with renewed vigor, wanting more than anything to get off once more. It was made easier with the webbing between the digits, Morghus figuring out how to catch the contours of his member between them where his spindly fingers were unable. They were massive now, almost as large as his body, and even though they were not meant to be used in such a way, they seemed more than adequate for the task. Before long he was leaking again, their tactile ability just enough that he could feel the warm fluids oozing over them.

Lost in the rapture of his wings taking shape, Morghus was almost distracted by the muscles in his neck starting to pop, a sign it was to expend. His hollowed spinal column pushed upward, giving his neck more flexibility as he gazed down, eyeing his member hungrily. Regarding it from this angle gave him ideas as to how to make him cum without hands. More than that, he longed to soak the remnants of his shirt and hoodie in his fluids as the garments continued to tighten around his growing physique.

Though his frame was becoming overall leaner in relation to his stature, Morghus could tell by the tightness of his clothing that as he continued to change he would soon outgrow them, possibly forever. More of his white-scute-covered belly was exposed as his lengthening torso pulled his shirt and favorite hoodie up around where his nipples once sat. Shoulder blades were widening in relation to his larger wings and thickened upper arms to the point the lingering fabrics were pulled taut. As black iridescent scales peppered the insides of his underarms, that same sensation of spreading webbing formed in the center, making him moan sensually as his arms were properly fused to his body as he wished them to be.

Neck thickening all the while, Morghus could feel it pushing the collar of his shirt and causing it to tear. The zipper of his hoodie was pulled down from the force of growth, breaking in several places as it popped out of place. It was starting to become uncomfortable on his frame and with some excitement, Morghus let his bulk push against it, tearing at the collar and the sleeves and forcing his shirt and hoodie off him. Even the individual fibers were being pulled apart, and rips rang out as his shirt was rended from his form. And with it, his hoodie, though not fully torn, stayed on him just enough that the range of his change was noticeable.

From his arousal over the loss of his once-treasured clothing, there was no holding back his orgasm. With a flurry of pleasure, his draconic cock shot spurts of semen like a geyser, coating his bare chest, his shirt rags, and, best of all, his green hoodie, leaving what would be a permanent stain. The thought was so erotic that Morghus almost whited out from the pleasure in his internal testicles and pumped their load. Though he wasn't sure he would ever revert back and be able to wear it again, such was a moot point when he was changing, only a brief reprieve needed before his cock was erect and leaking again in preparation for the next release to come.

His pants, as well, were soon to be torn from his body, tights growing thicker than they could allow. With a resounding rip, the fabric tore from either side, parting all the way down to the cuffs as he twitched his feet again in eagerness to be nude. His thrashing tail, now with a flattened spade at the tip, had extended to touch the floor, flexible enough to reach back and push at his underwear. With that, the elastic band burst and caused the underwear to wad under his parted hips. His anus, by this point, was hitched up under his tail, and he clenched it eagerly as he continued to stroke himself off with eagerness, eyeing his cock with hunger. With the size he had grown, and the discomfort of the rags still clinging to him, Morghus finally pushed himself off the couch. He fell to the floor with a heavy thud and wriggled around with his wing arms, careful of his tail but trying to rid himself of the rags on his body nonetheless.

Body now void of clothing, Morghus was able to see how much of his skin had already converted to iridescent scales. Little humanity was left, and as Morghus craned his neck to observe, the black scales were moving over his back, coating it completely before moving up the sides of his thicker neck. The remnants of his beard fell away as they peppered his chin, remedying the awkward visage of a still human head at the top of a wyvern's body. His neck was still thickening, giving him a more serpentine visage and allowing him to curve his head down to observe his cock. All the while, he was jerking off frantically, figuring it to be the catalyst for further change. And if he could bring himself to cum again, surely the transformation would complete and give him the form of his desires...

"Only a little more...yes...then embrace your true self..." The voice said as though in affirmation, and Morghus did his best to force his webbed hands to rub his cock, the contact enough to keep his erection aloft and bring forth further changes.

With his much larger neck, Morghus was able to take better stock of his body, the sight of him as a larger wyvern more erotic than even his imaginings could bring forth. He was massive, 10ft tall, and that wasn't even taking into account his long, thin tail with its spaded tip. His legs, fully formed, glinted in the light of the setting sun, while his cock remained rock hard and sliding in and out of his slit. And, best of all, his wing hands were nearly fully formed, webbing etched between them and all the way down his sides toward the base of his tail. He was so close to being complete, so close to being a true wyvern, and nothing he could imagine could elate him more.

He was soon to get his wish as his ears began to tingle, the outer ring pulling upward as two spines erupted from the skin underneath. The inner sections of his ear were drawn within, leaving the canal remaining at the base of the three remaining spines, barely visible through the layer of black scales spreading up his cheeks toward his hair. The tingling of webbing forming between them was pleasant, thin, veiny skin that stretched all the way down to his cheeks and kept his new outer ears stationary. Morghus didn't have a way to determine it for sure, given his focus on masturbation, but it seemed his hearing had been improved, as befit an aerial hunter.

An ache at the back of his skull proceeded his human hair falling away, though he hardly cared to have it on his features, regardless. It was as though something bony was forming within and pushing through the skin to erupt in a pair of twin horns that curved behind him. It was at this point that Morghus longed for a mirror, though had to make do with the sensation of them growing, not able to reach up and touch them with his wing hands otherwise occupied.

The same webbing welcomingly restricting his arms began moving down along his sides now, working its way toward the base of his tail. It started to draw through each of the spines that had been poking up symmetrically all the way up his back and his head, forming a crest of sorts with every spine filling in with that blessed webbing. The membranous layer behind his thumb moved back around his shoulders, filling in over the backs of his arms and making him wish to rub them further. Though with his fingers on his cock as they were, he would have to wait until his release...

At last, his mouth began to press forward with a few wet cracks, filling his eyes with the sight of it. His nose flattened, nostrils flaring as they moved to the front of what would be his snout as his lips receded. Morghus barred his teeth experimentally, feeling them thicken in his gums. His tongue, too, was thicker and forked at the tip from what he could see as his jaw cracked outward. The bone structure within altered as his skull sloped into it and extended the overall length. He was almost complete, as best he could tell, save for his eyes, which watered slightly before they altered in their sockets to match his new frame. Morghus figured they were shifting to gold, though he was currently too focused on his cock to notice an increase in visual acuity as befit his new species.

Elated now that his wyvern form was almost complete, Morghus eyed his erection with eagerness, wondering if he could reach down and suck himself off with the flexibility in his neck. The sensation of webbing against his cock, while exquisite, was enough to bring him quite close, and his draconic maw might be just the thing to do the job. Plus, he was curious as to how he might taste, eager to explore his new maleness and all it entailed...

The moment his mouth wrapped around his cock tip, Morghus was in heaven, the flavor and texture even better than he anticipated. It was like ambrosia, tickling the back of his throat and making him murr with pleasure. The pressure on his cock, too, was amazing, bringing him precariously close to his end. It brought forth the desire to be complete over everything else, and with it, the knowledge the form would be his if only he reached that final release.

"Just a little more...finish yourself and embrace your true form..." Said the mystery voice, and Morghus felt no reason not to comply. The sensations of muscle growth pumping through his being made him feel larger, more powerful, almost touching one wall with his tail and the other with his spine fin. He was almost there, almost finished, and nothing could deter his desire to be complete. It was more powerfully erotic to be changed in such a manner that nothing else mattered, not his future or the consequences of no longer being human. He wanted more than anything to taste his semen, to be the wyvern he held in such reverence. And if he continued with his oral ministrations, surely, then...

Yet, another thought crossed his mind just then, and he pulled his tongue and maw wetly off his member for just a moment. What more appropriate method for getting off would there be than to have him use his wings, the part of his being he held with the most reverence? Still desiring to taste himself, however, Morghus held his mouth at the ready, using his wing hands to get him the rest of the way there. Almost...he just had to work the webbing into the spines along the rim...Yes!

With even more force than his previous orgasm allowed, Morghus let himself go, feeling his cock's ridges spasming and shooting a thick creamy load within his muzzle. Some of it got on the remnants of his lips, though most of it landed in his muzzle as he preferred. Morghus was barely aware of the flavor, lost in the riveting sensations moving from his member and flooding his entire body with ecstasy. Even surpassing the pleasure he felt from his previous releases, Morghus was delighted, thankful for everything he had gained. A hiss of excitement escaped his lips, nothing human left in the tone, and, most of all, no regrets.

"Now your changes are locked in...I bet you don't have any regrets, do you?" The voice asked, and Morghus couldn't deny the truth in those words. He was truly grateful for his form, his dream come true. And the voice asked for nothing in return, save for him to enjoy his new body. Something that he was prepared to do in spades.

Getting up, Morghus was faced with the reality that he was now on all fours, his larger body top-heavy and preventing his usual bipedal travel. In his mind, however, that was perfectly fine. Lowering his arms so that the base of his hands rested on the floor, he was able to walk, wings folded toward his sides as he walked around like the wyvern he was now. Though it was a little difficult for him to maneuver in his apartment, given his size, Morghus managed it, desiring to get out and free into the world. The front door was too small for him, but his body was strong enough that he could push at the boards and drywall enough to make his way through. He was careful, not wanting to make his presence known from the loud destruction, but figuring the darkening sky would obscure him regardless. The house, his clothing, and, in fact, nothing in the human world drew forth desire for his wyvern mind. All he longed for was the sky and wherever his new wings would take him.

Raising his wings, Morghus allowed himself a moment to feel the warm, waning sun on his membranes before flapping them, the instinct to do so present in the back of his mind. It was something that he was concerned about and elated for in equal measure to take to the sky for the first time. But there was no time like the present, and if he didn't try it now he might be caught in the act of doing so. So, rearing up to his full height, Morghus flapped his wings harder, raising his feet closer to his chest as he hovered there, rising rapidly into the evening sky. The sounds of gasps and comments from humans on the ground were made known to his better hearing, but they were largely forgotten as he swam through the air, flapping his wings and rising ever higher. Reaching new heights for both himself and the rest of his new life. The sky really was the limit...

******

From its position in the multiverse, the being that had instituted the change grinned, or at an equivalent of how it expressed such an emotion. Regardless, it was happy it had given the human the form of his desires, bringing together forms from across dimensions, whether or not they belonged in the other's realm. For whether or not the dreamer created the dream or simply discovered the potential of their dreams, it mattered little when the end result in bringing them together was the same. So what if other beings considered what it did chaos? The subjects of its machinations were happy, and in the end, that was all that mattered to the being as it looked across the worlds for its next target to transform...