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Ride the Storm

By Gwydion78

Commission for Xakrai

"So, you've finally arrived." The voice was booming, only amplified by the gargantuan size of the hall. The mines were long since repurposed, the mountain hollowed out by centuries of mining, gaping mouths blasted from the sides and carved into exquisite reliefs, a gift for those like the owner of the voice that still hung in the air: the dragons.

The kingdom prided itself on its friendly relations with the local dragons, calling for an end to the poaching of fish, deer, and other preferred prey of the dragons, in exchange for which protections were granted from neighboring kingdoms. Eyries like this one were gifted to the more cooperative of dragonkind, those that deigned chosen Elves worthy of an honor only recently granted in the last few decades, to be dragonriders.

Elves like Narundel. Well, he hoped so, at least.

Like most Elves it was impossible to discern his real age. Humans would, using their limited scope of years, put him just into adulthood, though he could easily be several decades or even centuries old with only fellow Elves being able to know for sure. His build was lithe, graceful, his muscles lean and agile, definitely able to handle most martial trades, though he'd never taken to the sword or bow, most forged weapons just seeming so unwieldly and bows almost cowardly. He'd grown an affinity for close combat, grappling, pitting skill against skill though he was hardly lauded for it, getting pinned as often as he did the pinning.

Appearance-wise, he wasn't much to look at, his hair a long and flowing azure blue tied in intricate braids that resembled a scale pattern, his skin slightly tanned but his complexion flawless, his eyes deep pools of ocean blue. He dressed in simple leathers wrought for comfort and ease of movement, no crest adorning them as he'd never bothered to affiliate himself with any of the houses, his build accentuated by his clothing. Humans would find him ravishing to look at, but by Elven standards he was considered a mite homely. He could likely find a mate, likely a male as he was confident in his preference, but any dreams of bedding a noble or serving in the Prince's harem were dashed by his imperfections.

It mattered little to him, as his dreams pertained to another exhilarating activity: flight. Recently, night after night whenever he allowed himself sleep, he would be swept away into a twilight realm where he soared over a verdant countryside, a pleasingly fragrant wind buffeting his face as he banked and rolled and dove and maneuvered through forests and canyons and mountain passes, the sensations stimulating him in ways he never could have imagined outside of private moments spent in vacant watchtowers nestled in treetops. Waking up from those dreams had always resulted in a rush of blood to his groin, and he'd always been all too happy to enjoy the fleeting memories of the dreams as long as he could until climax swept them away in a rush of relief and delight.

"You look different than I expected." The owner of the voice finally emerged from the shadows, though it wasn't difficult to guess its identity, as only dragons would be present in the eyrie. Cobalt blue scales adorned his head, his eyes glowing a gentle cerulean, fins that grew from his temples and crested his forehead in lieu of horns, flexing and contracting in time with the dragon's breathing, electricity crackling along the tips of the fins. His head was easily the size of the Prince's royal carriage. While the crimson dragons of the south were known for their greed, power, and relative girth, the Lightning Clan was much more sinewy, serpentine, lithe. The dragon moved on four legs, yes, but the giant midsection most were accustomed to seeing on dragons was absent, instead built solid, predatorial, his legs thick with muscle, particularly the hindlegs, as it was rumored the blue dragons could stand upright if need be, using their tails to balance themselves out. His wings were folded close to his body, the membrane of skin allowing him flight looking tough and leathery. The sound of his steps echoed loudly, but there was no menace in his gait as he drew closer to Narundel. "You were the one who was called to ride me?" The dragon chuckled, as if at a private joke.

"May I ask what you find so humorous?" This wasn't off to a good start if the dragon didn't even think he was serious about his desire.

"Oh, you will know soon enough. You are..." He hmmphed softly. "Narundel? It sounds... vaguely Elven, to be sure."

"You criticize even my name?" Narun folded his arms. "Perhaps I might decide your name is not fit for a dragon, and give you one you find only vaguely dragonlike, such as Ironwing, or Scalyrump."

That drew a laugh, from the beast, the volume making the sound reverberate in the eyrie and ring in the Elf's ears for seconds afterward. "You may call me Lorenox, and if you wished to behold my rump, my good Elf, you only need request." He then pivoted himself slowly, bringing his scale-armored posterior into view, Lore's tail easily the thickness of a ravenwood tree and likely as long as one. The dragon's ass had the appearance that it had been cleaved from stone, though it seemed to harden into steel when the drake flexed it, almost playfully at the Elf, who had scurried out of the way to avoid an rather embarrassing collision. "You smell of a male who enjoys the sight of a firm rump, am I correct, Narundel?"

Narun had been advised that dragons can sense dishonesty, that dragonriders possessed complete trust in the dragons that carried them, and vice versa. Lying seemed a bad way to start their relationship. "I do. And yes, your rear is quite fetching. I was not aware that dragons enjoyed teasing us in such ways."

"Oh, not all dragons, Narun, and certainly this is not done to all Elves, but all Elves do not swell in their trousers at the sight of, as you so casually put it, a fetching scaly rump." It was clear that Lore was enjoyed the Elf's reaction, as the male quickly covered his groin, blushing in an un-elflike fashion. "But I believe that quid pro quo is in effect. I have shown you my rump, I believe the honor now goes to you."

The dragon waited expectantly, even making soft clicking sounds to imitate a ticking clock to his own amusement as it dawned on Narun what the drake was requesting. "You wish to see *my* rump, I take it?"

"It is only fair, my good Elf. I'll be feeling it against my neck scales, so I might as well see it beforehand." The dragon smirked. "You *are* aware that dragonriders ride nude? I believe some of them have taken to painting sigils and such on their bodies in preparation for battles, but if you wish my opinion, the paint tends to run and stain our scales and takes forever to wash off properly." Lore then lifted a claw and twirled it quickly in the air. "Now go on, turn around and drop trow, Narun, I've no wish to see your endowment yet."

While the Elf was self-conscious of his appearance, his reluctance was waived by memories of his dreams of flight. To ride atop a dragon was the only way to realize those fantasies outside gaining a measure of magical power he was aware he did not possess. Determined, he turned slowly, facing away from the beast, and worked the buckle of his belt, loosening it enough that his trousers soon dropped to his ankles, exposing his firm posterior. Like most Elves, fat was nowhere in sight, his skin stretched over hard muscle, the twin cheeks possessing a slight dimple that elicited a low crooning sound from the drake behind him. "Are you sastisfied, Lorenox? May I pull them up now?"

"A moment. You had half a minute to appreciate the splendorous view of my rump, I feel I am owed the same. Worry not, I will not ask you to flex or any other tawdry actions." He sounded closer. "I'll only ask you remain still a moment." The Elf then felt a quick, but rather wet slap to his rear, the cheek smarting as it was smacked, causing Narun to yank his trousers up while the dragon chuckled to himself. "My apologies, my good Elf, I could not resist. If you'd like to lick my rump in recompense, you are welcome to it."

The Elf narrowed his eyes at the dragon as he rubbed his sore posterior, the skin throbbing still. "That was hardly proper, Lorenox."

"You'll be riding on my back, nude, that rump grinding into my scales. My tongue grew jealous, forgive it. I trust I did not injure you?" The drake's eyes seemed transfixed on the Elven rump, his tongue occasionally flicking outward to taste the air as Narun's rear twitched every few seconds.

"No, it just feels warm, that is all." He folded his arms, ignoring the heat from the smacked bottom, not wanting to give the apparently lecherous drake any satisfaction. The Elf couldn't help but wonder if he'd been chosen by this dragon for his confessed preference for males, but despite that Lore's scaly ass was, in fact, a sight to behold, given their difference in species as well as size, acting on any urges would only result in frustration, injury, or both.

In the meantime, Lore observed his new rider trying to retain his dignity, though the bulk of his observation was on the male's backside, particularly his trousers which seemed more snug to his draconic eyes, and grew tighter with each passing twitch and throb of the slapped skin. Sweetly as possible, he attempted to smile beatifically as he asked. "Narun, I'm afraid one of my gold sovereigns has come loose from my hoard. Would you mind picking it up? It's right by your foot."

The Elf peered at him suspiciously. "You promise not to slap my rump with your tongue?"

"Of course not, my good Elf."

"Or any other part of me?"

"I give my word you will retrieve my gold coin from the floor with nary a touch from any part of my body to any part of your own."

Grumbling, the Elf bent over, finding the coin indeed by his foot, though his pants now felt painfully tight from the exertion, which struck him as odd as he'd prided himself on his flexibility before. He could feel and hear the seam of the seat of his trousers straining as he fumbled to pick up the coin, Lorenox whispering a word that sounded oddly familiar, but wasn't any language he'd heard before.

In the seconds following the whispered word, Narun stood upright, or tried to, as his muscles felt locked in place, his head hazy, and his backside aching terribly. The throbbing growing to a thunderous pounding in his ears, the pain of constriction striking him until finally, thankfully, it seemed to pass the worst of it, though it was accompanied by a slow, violent tearing sound coming from his trousers, the seat of his pants splitting as his ass twitched and flexed. The twin Elven cheeks were ballooning out of the tattered remains of his burst trousers, widening while they pushed outward in girth, the fatty flesh within twitching so wildly Narun stumbled forward, unable to sit upward, the muscle growing in size as well as density. His skin darkened as well, drying rapidly until it crackled and hardened into supple scales, the color a deep blue, similar to Lorenox, though at the moment only the Elf's rump was subject to the change.

Pinned under the weight of his pronounced posterior, his comparably tiny legs scrabbled against the stone floor, finding little purchase as his rear swelled outward further, twin boulders sheathed in cobalt scales. "Wh-what have you done to me!?!"

"Myself? I have done nothing, my good Elf. It would appear that you are simply meant to be this way. Did you sense me cast any magic to force this change upon you? I think not. I would never be so uncouth as to force a form on another living being, no matter how delectable it might make his rump." He made his way behind the trapped male, further examining the flexing glutes. "I hope you are aware that the position you find yourself in is known as presenting, namely that you have placed your shapely backside in such a way that invites rather pleasurable activities, pleasurable for both of us, I might add."

Given the sheer weight of the giant ass, it was all Narun could do to keep breathing regularly, much less admonish the dragon for teasing him while he was in such a state. He was barely aware of the motions of his rear, his mind disconnected from the muscles, the sensations of the flexing mammoth slabs of strength like echoes.

"Narun, I was curious if you were aware that your rump is that of my clan?" No response, but that didn't daunt Lore in the slightest as he nudged the vast posterior, vast to the Elf at least. "The Lightning Clan, one of the reasons that we're so, well, *reasonable* with those outside the draconic race is that, well... Perhaps I should demonstrate."

Having awaited this moment for some time, Lorenox slipped his tongue into the crevasse, finding the target just below a pulsing nub of flesh that was birthing itself from the base of the Elf's spine. With little preamble, the dragon charged his prehensile appendage into the newly expanded passage, crooning at the intensity of the taste, his ears filled with the ecstatic cries of Narun as his mind was assaulted with dragon-brewed bliss. The dragon could hear the Elf pounding his fists into the stone floor in response to the intensity, the drake delving further in, finding the sweet spot and prodding it weakly with his tongue, which only served to drive the Elf into hysterical wheezing shouts of pleasure so sharp it danced on the line of agony. Lore could behold the nub as it grew and extended into a proper tail, the appendage gaining strength as quickly as it added length, the scaly rope of draconic muscle sliding along his neck as it extended, reflexively coiling and embracing him warmly, approvingly, of its own volition as the signals from it were lost in the sanity-bending bliss that overloaded Narun's mind. Decided toallow the Elf some respite, he pulled his tongue free, though teasingly took his time before finishing his explanation.

"Now, my good Elf, however could a dragon even bother with thoughts of conquest, pillaging towns, terrorizing the countryside, or stealing vast sums of wealth when we could instead wile away our days making each other feel *that*?" The dragon laughed to himself. "Of course, that was barely a taste of what that wondrous backside is capable of."

Panting heavily, able to recover enough of himself, Narun looked over his shoulder at the posterior that would dwarf him as well as the local smithy. "What have you DONE to me!?! He tried to crawl away, but his legs were pinned under the weight of his buttocks, his arms lacking even a mite of the strength necessary to move him forward. His tail, (His TAIL!?!) occasionally responded to his desire, pushing against the floor to nudge him forward an inch or two.

"Done? Why, I have done nothing, my good Elf. I believe we have addressed this before your form became a bit easier on the eyes. This is simply what you are."

"Impossible!" Narun's legs were still pinned, but they weren't being crushed at least. He attempted to flex them, wriggle them get them free, but to no avail. "Are you claiming I have draconic parentage?"

"While it is certainly possible for one of our kind to take a smaller, bipedal form, were you the product of such a union, you would have been born differently. Draconic heritage does not emerge late in life, it is there from the beginning." Lore dragged his tongue along the base of Narun's tail, enjoying the sight of the appendage instinctively raising itself to bare the anal vent. "Regardless, I did not suspect you would be this stubborn about it, and seeing this rump is inspiring enough to help you remedy your problem."

The Elf tried to look back at Lore, hope in his voice. "You're going to change me back?"

Another chuckle, amused, as the dragon stomped around in front of the trapped Elf, Narun beholding a large midnight blue organ growing along the dragon's underbelly from between his hindlegs, the phallus thick as a tree and possessing several ridges, the grandest at the head, the crown of his cock coming to a blunt tip, the flesh covered in comparably smaller bumps. A glowing liquid dribbled out of the organ, splashing to the stone floor with a crackle of sparks, one of which flew to smack the Elf in the face, the sensation sudden, but strangely not painful. It was sensual, in a way, bringing his mind back to the deluge of sensation that had accompanied Lore's spelunking of his mammoth behind.

"Enjoying what you see, Narun?" He waggled the massive meat with a toothy grin. "We were once smaller, but centuries of devoting ourselves mostly to hedonistic pursuits has vastly increased our size and sensitivity. Mating flights can be difficult, but we've learned to adapt." He whispered the same draconic word he did before, and the Elf cried out once again, thrashing as he felt overwhelmed by arousal, his mind aching from the overstimulation as his groin throbbed uncontrollably, the tattered remains of his breechcloths quickly destroyed as his Elven spear of maleflesh was subjected to the same treatment as his formerly svelte posterior.

It started with what sounded like a torrent of blood rushing through his veins and arteries, the sensation invigorating, and for a moment, he flashed on his dreams of flight, the feelings similar to the delight of careening through a canyon at full speed and savoring the thrill as well as the wind cascading into his body. It was enough to distract him from the sensation of what little pubic hair resided on his groin dropping onto the stone, and his testes rattling in their sack, the Elf feeling a weak orgasmic feeling as his Elven cock tensed and dribbled out a steady stream of milky semen. Every pulse gently increased the pleasurable feeling, until when the climax was finally beginning to abate, it felt like a proper orgasm. Lore smelled the air, and smiled down to the changing Elf. "It would seem that you've purged the last of your Elven essence, Narun. Not to worry, your body will right itself."

The Elf wanted to respond, but his words were cut off by a sudden gasp for air, not from trouble breathing, but from a surge of stimulus as his chin was bumped by a blunt knob of flesh that crackled and popped as it smeared a liquid on his face, the feeling of his skin rubbing against it causing his eyes to roll back in ecstasy. The tower of cock continued to twitch and extend, the pale pole darkening as it grew, taking on the nearly black shade of blue that matched Lorenox's endowment. His legs grew sandwiched between his giant ass and his inflating testes, his scrotum feeling slightly wet, textured but strangely smooth, scales that were a lighter shade of cerulean holding and protecting his growing draconic nuts, an occasional static jolt inside them making him grunt in delight.

The organ was already larger than his body, pushing along the stone floor as it bulged and quivered, wordless moans escaping the Elf as his ridges developed, fat ropes of nerves bundling in stiff rings and bunches that pushed outward for maximum stimulation, forming his phallic bumps as well. It had already grown half again as long as his body, and there appeared to be no sign of a slowing to the growth. "Yes, that's it. Bigger. Go on, bigger! A bull of a dragon like you are becoming should be endowed with an organ to be proud of. Bigger. Bigger!"

The words were too much for Narun's lust-addled brain to process, his eyes simply going wide as he heard a growing roar emanating from the nuts that were larger than him if he'd curled into a ball. His mouth seemed too ill-equipped to make the sound he needed to make to properly vocalize his lust, his passion, his bliss, but his phallus cared little for any noise other than the crash of thunder that reverberated through the eyrie as the organ fired forked arcs of lightning that collided with the far wall, splattering it with glowing azure cum that still cracked and rumbled as it dribbled down the stone to pool at the base. The Elf could scarcely believe it as bolt after bolt of lightning-infused semen shot out of him, the sensations making him feel akin to a god of storms, but the pleasure was enough to make him understand Lore's earlier statement. Clearly, if dragons felt like *this* when they came, he had no idea why they would ever wish to do anything else. When his stormy climax reached its endpoint, he felt devoid of any worry or stress, even the sight of his altered equipment and scaly ass caused him no further concern, even when Lorenox positioned himself behind him and flicked his tongue against his rump, Narun feeling his tail lift once again.

"Are you presenting? Hmm? You wish to feel *that*..." It was clear he was motioning to the electrified cumpool at the far end of the eyrie. "Inside you? Hmm?" The dragon slipped his tongue inside again, Narun only wanting to feel more. He no longer cared that he was abandoning his Elven nature by the second, with every burst of pleasure and every temping touch of Lorenox. He only wanted that bliss again, as many times as possible, and if it means he was to be a dragon, then so be it. "I won't take advantage, now. I will only mount this beguiling backside if you expressly ask me to do so."

"Will it make me a dragon?" He was surprised he could even form the words, but it was the only question he could imagine asking instead of begging for it. "Will it make me like you?"

"I do believe you are meant to be larger than I, so I would suspect the rest of your body will follow suit. Your wingspan will likely brush the walls, this eyrie was sized for myself, after all, and while the good Elves of this nation were accommodating, they were more interested in providing adequate shelter than giving me space to... entertain. But yes, it would appear that mounting you properly will give you proper mobility, though you will be leaving your Elven life behind."

"And once it's done, I could fuck you as you're about to fuck me?" Lorenox chuckled as he watched the massive dragoncock twitch and leak a dollop of static-filled precum onto the floor.

The dragon shuddered. "I certainly hope so. You are hung like a king among dragons, but I believe with enough effort my rump will sheathe you in a most delightful way. But first, I must mount you, and I must warn you that I have been without a mate for two centuries now, so I suspect you may find yourself with a taut belly afterward."

"Then yes, Lorenox. Yes, I want you to mount me." His tail flagged as high as it could, commanded as such by his mind, finally grasping the basics of how to move it. "Fill me, show me how dragons sate their lust and greed without harming a soul or stealing a single sovereign. Make me understand, make me feel the crest of passion as your kind does!"

Little other encouragement was needed, and truthfully, Lorenox needed no such permission, but it was still music to his ears to hear his cock begged for, much as any male would likely enjoy the same words. Given that he'd lubricated his new lover's entrance with his tongue, as well as leaking profusely himself from his spire of dragonflesh, the only difficult was positioning himself properly, given the state of the Elf at the moment. Straddling the giant rump proved the most effective, or intending to, given the length of his own endowment, but luckily his increased arousal prevented any drooping of his phallus. Still, given the size of his lover's tail, he carefully rolled him onto his back, Narun pinned under his penis now instead of riding it, but that wouldn't last too long.

His anal vent glistened from the preparation, and Lore aimed himself purely by feel, Narun's tail stroking his cock further down, tapping his heavy cumsack with the fins at the tip, sparks jumping to stimulate their already taxed glands. His grand phallic crown found its home, rubbing the ridged and bumped bulge of cockflesh against the hungry slit, Narun making mmmphing sounds into his faceful of dragondick. At first, Lore believed the he was simply attempting to voice his pleasure, but he soon saw there was another reason for Narun flailing his limbs, given that two of them were submitting joyously to the change.

His toes had curled in delight, pinching together tightly until there were only three large digits, each of which flexed as steely claws sprouted. His shapely toned legs shook and convulsed as they grew in length, the limbs making sounds as they reshaped and realigned into a quadrapedal stance. The bones thickened further and further, so quickly it looked as if the Elf's skin might split, but it always seemed to cover.

Considering that the change might have been uncomfortable, Lore pushed his pulsing cockhead into his lover's needy vent, the larger (for the moment) dragon shuddering as the changing's male's passage began to behave like a blue dragon's, the tight tunnel of flesh peppering the invading organ with a torrent of gentle jolts and shocks to better stimulate every waiting nerve bundle that nested inside that prick. His pace was slow, but he wanted to savor the entrance, low croons escaping his snout, randomly punctuated with that same whispered word in draconic.

Meanwhile, Narun felt his legs weakly moving up and down, straining under their own weight as his muscle mass was still too little for movement, but the intruding feeling of perfect fullness was enough to keep him trying. The limbs began swelling, a heat spreading through the bones and joints and radiating outward as the muscle fibers began to multiply in earnest. His balls ached as they began pumping hormones into his system, stimulating his legs to bulk up further, flooding his mind with the idea, no, the knowledge that he was to be strong, a king among dragons as Lorenox had said, so he should be built like one. Lore licked his chops as he watched the spindly legs expand and balloon outward with strength, rivaling his own in less than a minute, the limbs hugging him tightly and urging him to push in another few inches, work the draconic ass slit over the next ridge of his cock, the toe claws scratching at his sides in such a sensual way he practically wanted to dump his spunk in him right there and get to being fucked, but he held himself off, still pushing into his lover's ass. "Almost there, handsome. Almost in all the way. You're taking a cock like a true dragon..."

More, that was the only thing that Narun could think. He just wanted more, more of the change, more of the cock into his ass, more of his nuts pumping his body full of strength, more of that word whispered that grew more familiar with each passing minute. The heat began to seep into his torso, his breathing turning into frantic gasps for a few seconds as his lungs altered, alveoli multiplying to increase the oxygen his growing body would require, his thighs aching as they surged to produce more blood, the Elf's wooziness only inspired by his arousal now. With the crackling of bone, Narun felt his head being pushed along the underside of his cock, dragging his tongue along the sensitive skin, hugging the trunk of dragonmeat as tightly as his arms would allow as his spine thickened and lengthened, nerves bundling into tighter density until his spinal cord was closer to a cable, feeding his brain with more sensation, more pleasure, and all at such speed he felt lightheaded as his torso lengthened further and further.

Lore, in the meantime, was only a few feet away from finding home, observing his lover's head emerge from under his cock and keep extending, almost like a worm or centipede for a few seconds, the change going differently than he expected, but the forward progress was all that mattered as the mouth of his scaly sheath finally kissed the anal vent, his balls resting comfortably but heavily on the base of the almost-dragon's tail. "I'm in, my love, my mate. Every foot. I have needed this so long, as have you."

Needing no permission or prodding, he pulled himself outward a few feet only to sink himself back in to the hilt, his lover's prostate and his cockhead exchanging clatterings of flirtatious jolts in an instinctual erotic language. The slow thrusting rhythm reawakened the change, Narun feeling a searing fire in his heart as his ribcage bulged outward, the bones branching, hardening, matching the length of his body, his spine feeling like several ravenwood trees had been shoved up his ass, and now the rest of his torso was growing to match. He beheld his point of view raising slowly as his body widened as well as thickened, his heart stopping for a moment until it was reborn in a flash of internal lightning, his heartbeat steady claps of thunder in his ears as it grew to handle the growing supply of draconic blood, sending it to his organs and muscles to aid them through the transition from Elven to draconic, his stomach altering to handle any manner of ingested food, even gemstones and gold if needed, while his lungs expanded, pushing outward, his breaths taking minutes to fill and empty his lungs with his still Elven mouth, though he never felt lightheaded from it.

Lore watched the majority of his lover's body cross over to dragonkind, his scales midnight blue save lighter cerulean for his underbelly where his cock, while still enormous, didn't look so comically huge by comparison, except when his arms and head were taken into account. He watched the transforming male arch his back as his fins sprouted, lighting arcing from them before they folded back to his body. He could see Narun mouthing something, but he didn't need to hear the words to know what he was trying to express, as a certain draconic prostate had been hammering his cock with the same message for the last half-minute, a message that culminated with a cacophony of thunder outside of the eyrie as his lover's phallus fired off its second draconic climax, the far wall glowing with heat as it was struck repeatedly with lambent semen, ball lightning dribbling down to the floor like electrified arachnids.

Muscle had begun to swell his lover's frame out further, his belly tightening into defined blocks of strength that twitched, almost of their own volition to show off for the male that pounded away at their owner's rump. Already he was swelling larger, thicker, wider, longer than Lore himself, but then he'd expected this. But the next change was to come soon as the tiny Elven arms began to extend and vibrate with the change, the bones reshaping much like his hindlegs had, fingers melding into three clawed digits while muscle rapidly added on, aided by his lover's powerful new draconic heart and enriched electrified blood. But that wasn't what Lore was awaiting.

Narun was addled, confused as his mind tried to process how to command his gargantuan new body, his legs and arms moving in ways that would imply drunkenness in any other being when they weren't moving on simple reflex. His legs weakly squeezed Lore as the other dragon met his eyes, the beast pumping in and out of him, occasionally leaning down to lap up some of the glowing semen from his chest. He managed to work his left arm, or foreleg now, to the side of Lorenox's head when he came in for a kiss of his cockhead, only managing a half stroke of the dragon's headfins and a rudimentary pat on his scaly cheek, but Lore seemed to get the intention of the gesture and smiled, apparently looking forward to when Narun would have a large enough head to show his appreciation properly. "Your scent, lover, is *magnificent*. I could spend days with my snout resting on your burgeoning sack, drinking in the bouquet of your arousal. I just might once we're both finished, should you allow it. You'd be free to do the same, of course."

Narun wanted to answer in the affirmative, but he was suddenly rocked by a deluge of sensations that too jumbled a mix of pain and pleasure to affect him one way or the other, but they were centered on his back, on either side of his spine fins, around where his shoulder blades felt like they should be, but blades is all they felt like, pushing through his tough scaly skin from the inside. He cried out in agony for a few seconds, Lore picking up his thrusting and leaning down to suck at his cockhead to drown out the pain in their mating, the method working just long enough to get Narun through the worst of it as he suddenly felt like he was sleeping on his hand, in a way, a tingling numbness worming into the mass of signals in his brain, making him awkwardly lean forward, hugging Lore's neck to support himself as the other dragon watched two additional limbs extend outward from his back and grow out toward the wall and the open entrance to the eyrie, leathery veiny skin growing outward to turn the spined limbs into proper wings, though his left wing soon bumped against the stone wall while his right reached full extension.

The sensation of having wings, real wings broke his mind away from the flood of information, giving his sanity quarter as he reflected on his dreams again, realizing that turns, the banks, the rolls, the rush of wind against his body was all dreaming of having wings, of not flying on a dragon, but flying *as* a dragon. Dreams he could now make come true, to fly through storms and arctic winds and tropical monsoons without fear as he would be one with the storm now, storms that would brew in his heart and his balls until he released them into the world through his breath and his climax...

His climax.

"Yes. Again. Just keep cumming, the storm that gathers is for you, to welcome you, to let all know of your passion, of your ecstasy. Your lust will feed the fields and forests with life-giving rain as you release your own essence of life. I'll fill you soon, my mate, I promise, you're almost there." Lorenox was practically in pain as he held off further still, the sensation of his lover's passage and prostate sending demanding jolts of ecstasy into his penis almost too much to resist. "Xenothun, please, not yet..."

Narun's eyes went wide as the whispered word came through clearly for the first time in tandem with the feeling of dragonblood rushing into his skull and brain, the heat almost unbearable as the final Elven vestige began to succumb to the change. A sound emerged from his chest, travelling up his throat and lancing outward in an explosion thunder and lightning that rattled the ceiling and caused dust and pebbles to rain down on him as his cock fired off its third draconic climax, the far wall still glowing from its previous strikes, the stone sagging toward the floor.

Through it all, his neck had thickened and expanded as his hair finally fell from his head, the change drying his skin into scales as the plates of his skull expanded and grew denser, his jaw cracking hard as it pushed forward, pulling his nose along for the ride as it travelled forward to form his snout, the new dragon leaning over to spit out his old teeth as his new sharper set grew in. His sounds were a mottled mix of growls and grunts and croons as the stimulation of his ass and cock became easier to handle and enjoy, his brain affected by the flood of dragonblood, the lobes expanding and multiplying as the structure grew in size and complexity to take up the added space afforded by his now sizable skull. It grew too difficult to think of himself as Narun, all of this seemed too familiar, even moreso than a recurring dream.

"Xenothun, I can't hold back any further! Please, Your Majesty! Grant me the privilege!"

Xenothun. THAT was his name! He quickly leaned his new head forward, his neck still lengthening as he got out the words in time. "Cum, my consort! You have my permission!"

The storm intensified outside the eyrie as the dragon finally came, Xenothun climaxing in tandem with the drake atop him as his body was struck by a maelstrom of stormy semen from within, the thunder outside echoing the roars within as the larger male shot his load again and again, his prostate caught in the pummeling orgasm of his consort. He watched his belly start to round out slightly, his neck long enough to watch, not caring as his neck and snout where slapped by his cockborne lightning as his body took the bounty of Lorenox's crest. Their tails intertwined, heads nuzzling softly even as they were soaked in static-filled cum while Xeno's belly grew taut. The storm broke outside when their climaxes abated almost an hour later, the two dragons exchanging long passionate kisses and licking the seed from each other's snouts.

"It is a relief to finally have you back, Your Majesty." Lorenox bowed his head respectfully, even though he was still balls deep in his liege.

The larger dragon smirked. "I believe you were supposed to fetch me after a century." He patted his swollen midsection. "This feels like *two*, Lore."

"The Elves all look alike, my Liege, I had to suggest the dragonrider idea to one of their envoys, hoping it would bring you out of the woodwork and back to me. There were several cases of mistaken identity. I was not aware so many Elves fantasize about us sexually." He kissed Xeno again, who gladly returned it. "Did you enjoy your time, my liege?"

"It was not for enjoyment, Lore. Remind me to never wager with an Elf again. Did my counterpart at least enjoy his stint as a dragon?"

Lore chuckled. "He is still a dragon, my liege. He admitted curiosity about our mating flights, and never thought to return. I was informed that the line of succession for the throne is quite clear with their kind, so there was little issue, though it did cause some delays in finding you." He wrapped his tongue around the grand ridge of Xeno's still erect cock, and pulled it ever-so-slowly free.

"You are insatiable, Lore." He crooned at the sensations, spurting another dollop of glowing precum onto his chest that Lore quickly lapped up. "Though I cannot imagine a better quality in a consort. Or a mate." He winked at the smaller blue. "Now kindly pull your cock from my rump so I can fill you as promised. I ache to feel you stretched about me again."

The pullout was almost as delectable as the push in, Lore taking his time, almost teasing, dragging his tongue along the length of his mate's cock, rubbing every ridge and bump as his own phallic features were stimulated by the tight grip of Xeno's anal vent. They crooned in unison at the stimulation as Lore finally pulled free, and shared another long session of locking their snouts together before Lore finally moved off, turned himself carefully, and did what he had been aching to do for two centuries. He lowered his front, raised his rump, and flagged his tail.

Xeno needed no further encouragement, his regal dragoncock already brewing a fresh storm of semen to deposit in his mate as his cockhead met the neglected tailhole. He pushed, Lore baring his teeth in discomfort, his disused passage having retightened over the centuries, a condition that would thankfully be relieved over the months to come. His claws dug into the stone floor to steady himself, more of the Elven craftsmanship being ruined as the bloated cockhead opened him insistently, his vent straining to accommodate his lover as it made its way inward.

Xeno crooned sweetly as he was gripped like a visse that gave only with determined effort, the crown of his phallus already showered by Lore's tunnel with a constant barrage of shocks. To have gone without *this* for two centuries. No, he would NEVER bet with an Elf ever again. He pushed in deeper, eliciting a pained grunt from Lore, but it soon faded into a pleasured croon as his head gained full entry and started spreading the way for the rest of him, the larger dragon's nuts pumping a steady stream of sparking precum into the passage, easing his way and stimulating his mate to relax and accept him further. He dug his own claws into the stone floor, breaking more of the slabs and tiles that he was certain were quite lovely at some point, but currently provided him excellent traction to give his consort his justly earned reward.

Xeno showed his teeth as he pushed in further, scaly brow furrowed in concentration as he sunk deeper into his lover, feeling the cum still sloshing about in his belly, wanting to give his consort the same treatment even though he'd unloaded himself several times already. Still, he wanted more, the one word that had punched through even the Elven facade he'd built for his mind. More. More flight, more mating, more everything that gave him pleasure, but for now, more of his cock inside his lover's ass.

Lore in the meantime was almost giggling at the stimulation, his body too long deprived of a good, deep fuck, feeling a massive organ filling and stretching him the only way that would grant him true satisfaction. Mounting his liege had always provided enjoyment, as His Majesty had always desired all avenues of penetration and had encouraged such among his subjects (a reason the Lightning Clan had embraced hedonism so readily), but being mounted, especially not as a consort, the king's preferred lover, but as his *mate*, it was all he could do not to cum again, but he saw no reason to hold back, and let loose, his anal tunnel quaking and relaxing to allow his liege deeper delving. The floor was splattered with his cum, cracks of thunder issuing in the eyrie and outside as a storm began to brew anew.

Xeno took advantage of his mate's climax to reclaim a few more feet, the eyrie feeling cramped as his body had regained its full size, the blue half again as large as his mate, but he remembered where his many lairs were now, so it could be worried about later. Instead he enjoyed the honor his lover paid him, cumming simply from having his cock under his tail. It was a sensation he rode all the way in until he heard his lover groan and croon, his belly jutting slightly as Xeno had hilted, his bulbous balls kissing his lover's vent.

He leaned down to the smaller dragon, and growled one word before locking his snout at the base of his neck. "*Mine*." Lore couldn't help but cum again as his mateship was made official in the traditional way, scales breaking on his neck in the pattern of Xeno's teeth, marking him forever as the one sole mate of the King of the Lightning Clan. The sound that emerged from him was instinctual, a low undulating croon that was merely a formality, acknowledging the king's claim on him, that they would belong to each other.

Little time passed before Xeno began thrusting, not letting go of his lover's neck, the storm outside gaining in strength as the weather exulted in the return of one of its masters. Though it had been centuries, his body had not forgotten the simple mechanics of in and out, his great muscles giving him the power to veritably bludgeon his lover's prostate with his cockhead before it pushed even further to bottom out inside. The lightning outside was nothing compared to the explosion of electricity that was taking place unseen, inside the dragon's ass as Xeno exercised his strength once again. To think he might've been stuck as an Elf for the next few centuries had his mate not thought to put out the idea of "dragon riding". Well, he had gotten his wish, and riding a dragon was just as enjoyable as he imagined, though he suspected the mating flight to take place in the next few hours would be far more satisfying.

It was nearly an hour (and four more gushing climaxes from Lorenox) before King Xenothun released himself inside his lover, the storm outside becoming very still as his balls poured liquid lightning into his mate's ass, his balls having swollen from the stimulation and desire to grant Lore the same sensation of fullness he'd been gifted. Given Lore's smaller size, his belly began to push him upward slowly as he took what felt like a river of cum from a busted dam into his body, climaxing yet again as they rode out their first true mating. Xeno felt lightheaded as he practically collapsed on top of his lover, holding him tightly to him, not removing himself from his mate's rump just yet, lapping at the sensitive skin beneath Lore's broken neckscales, causing Lore to croon appreciatively.

"I'd forgotten your scent, Lore. Remind me not to do that again." He wrapped his tail around his lovers. "And once we've recovered, I'd like to reacquaint myself with your taste again. And you should be reminded of my taste as well. Hmmm..." The dragon looked thoughtful. "I suspect it will be a few months before we get anything of substance done. Remind me afterward to send missives to the new Elven king, as well as apologies, if necessary, that you and I will likely use their former monarch as a spitroast. I won't have either of our cocks going neglected while we're mating, Lore."

Lorenox gently squeezed His Majesty's cock. "Of course, my liege. Whatever you request. You will be mounting me again, hopefully, before we adjourn to your eyrie?"

With that Xeno grinned, kissing his mate eagerly. "After, my love. First, we fly, and show the clan and the kingdom that I have finally taken a mate. Then I will fill you again, and you will fill me. And then we'll summon the good King Narundel to my eyrie so I might pay him his due for the wage. Several times. I trust his snout will satisfy you?"

Lorenox smiled in return. "As long as I can gaze into my liege's eyes as I cum, I will feel satisfaction."

Xeno then carefully pulled himself free and stomped over to the opening of the eyrie, gazing at the cloudy sky. "Come then, my love, there are winds to caress our scales and storms to ride."