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The doors of the violated cab opened, and the two men stepped out.

Actually, it was more like flopped out, covered in the enthusiastic discharge of a recently departed dragon. Why he - and it had most certainly been a he, barring some sort of exotic hermaphrodite arrangement - had chosen their cab for his amorous attention was not clear. Perhaps he liked yellow. Perhaps he worked for Uber, and was sabotaging the competition.

Messily.

The first one to recover was the young Caucasian man who had been seated in the rear. He was, unfortunately, named Hogarth. He had gone by the nickname "Hoagie" until he discovered he was more of a panini man.

The older, Pakistani man who had emerged from the front of the cab was, of course, his driver. He was possibly the only Pakistani cabbie in the Big Apple without a background in engineering, or brain surgery, or some other highly skilled trade. He had been a grocer.

Hogarth didn't bother to get his name.

They had been arguing about which captain was best. Hoagie was big fan of new Kirk, while cabbie went with the dark horse pick of Archer.

Then, while stopped in traffic, the cab was set upon by a dragon. He did not ask politely. He did not, in fact, ask.

Hoagie was surprised the doors were working, but the cabbie knew that they had been exposed to bodily fluids before.

If not in such volume.

And not from a dragon.

Hogarth made eye contact with his partner in slime.

"Was that-"

"Yeah, it was."

"Should...should we call someone?"

Hogarth held up his cell phone, dripping with fresh dragon...stuff. "Good thing I got the splash-resistant version!"

Both men shared a slightly hysterical laugh, Hoagie leaning on the car's frame as whiteness dripped around his feet.

It didn't smell too different from human, actually.

He looked at his hand, turned it around, took a lick.

Not bad. Did it taste different? He had a sample size of precisely one, and he could well be some sort of semen-taste outlier.

"Hey, mister!" a woman yelled at him, from behind her hot dog stand. "You a'aight?"

"I..." He looked at his hand, and licked some more off it, with a surprisingly long tongue.

She looked disgusted. "You got a concussion?"

"I...maybe...?" It was so hard to think, what with all the noise and the smells...

The driver looked up from the shattered back window and dented roof, to find his passenger stealing hotdogs. He was gobbling them down like he had just been rescued from a desert island and intended to make up for lost time. He didn't even seem to be concerned with the pathogens that would doubtless be found in New York City hot dog water.

Okay, they'd be found everywhere. New York just had slightly different ones.

"What are you doing, man?"

The fare turned, fixing the driver with a glare that reminded him of Gollum crouching over his Precious. One of his eyes looked yellow, a trick of the light, obviously. He didn't seem to mind the hot dog lady yelling at him, or the people filming. It'd probably be trending by nightfall.

"Hungry." he rasped. "Meat."

Well, he clearly wasn't going to be using his phone.

The Asian bent over to pick it up, and his pants split.

Folks started talking pictures. Great.

Wait, he wore baggy pants that morning. Did the dragon...stuff...do something?

Turned out it did. Turned out it gave him powerful, sinewy thighs, and a big, thick rear, which was all well and good, but he'd prefer it on his wife, not him! And that slithering sensation-

"A tail," the Asian man sighed.

Like a magnet, his gaze was drawn to the fare. Did his thighs look bigger? Were they straining his fashionably ripped jeans? Was the bulge at the top a barely-contained tail?

As it happened, the answer to all of those was "yes".

The white (and also black, or at least greyish) guy's pants basically disintegrate. He has claws, and what looks like a much farther along tail, that whisks around. But most importantly, his oddly-shaped dick pressed against the side of the cart, leaking some clear fluid.

The driver felt wet.

Well, he felt that way anyway, on account of being covered in something he didn't want to think about

(and yet, and yet)

but there was wetness in places there wasn't supposed to be.

He reached down, reconsidered, and then it occurred to him that he couldn't really get much more embarrassed than publicly being covered in dragon gunk. And with a single movement and certain feeling of freedom, he shoved his pants down, stepped out of them, and discovered exactly what he expected, behind his testicles.

Not that he had never felt a vagina before, but it just hadn't been on him, and it hadn't been so...well-lubricated.

Someone dumped hot dogs onto the ground in front of him, and he jumped. The hot dogs were joined by a bag of chips, and the older man glared at the younger.

"What are those for?"

"Feed mate," said the white guy, in the same tones you'd use to respond to someone asking what color the sky was.

"Mate? I'm not your-"

The younger man smiled. He had lots of sharp teeth. Both his eyes were yellow now.

"You smell like it. I can feel your heat."

The driver flushed.

"I don't...I don't want it. The dragon - Aaah!"

The white man had decided to cut to the chase, and simply stick his snout into the driver's crotch. He just barged right in, apparently not finding a male and female genitalia in such a configuration strange at all.

To be fair, depending on which parts of the Village you spent your time, it was arguably less strange than finding oneself turned into a dragon, and he seemed to be taking that well.

Hogarth heard and felt the driver protest. Briefly. He even felt his mate grab his head and try to push him away, her struggles growing weaker, and then her enthusiastic grasp as she tried to pull him deeper in.

There were cracks as his neck lengthened, and he stopped, to adjust his angle on her, placing her on the remains of the cab, which groaned under their combined draconic weight. She got a better grip on his horns, wrapped her legs around his neck, her own claws not penetrating his scales.

Hogarth took a moment to look around. None of the insects dared to interfere, and he felt his chest swell with pride even as it swelled in truth. It was right that they should watch, should admire, should spread the word of their transformation and glorious coupling.

Speaking of which; his mate thrust her cock into his mouth.

He was only momentarily surprised, before rallying and g rasping her rear. No humble human hand could have held those hefty hips, but a dragon's mighty talons were eminently suited to the task.

As was his tongue.

The insects seemed smaller now. His mate sprawled over the entire length; it was clearly unsuitable for a nest. One hand was massaging her breast, the fat gained from sitting in a taxi all day having reshaped itself into a more...pleasing form.

He had gotten some of of their sire's essence on the hot dog lady, during his desperate craving for lukewarm technically-meat, and he could see her on the ground, licking up more. Her dark skin was turning a pale green where it peeked out from between her pants and shirt, and he could see the start of a tail. He could smell her. Soon, she'd feast on tastier fare.

Some of the people were running.

He came up for air, and was surprised to find that his head was higher than the third story windows. The corporate serfs inside peered out at the spectacle. He preened under the attention, then gave them a toothy, rapacious grin; you're next.

Most of them blanched.

A few stepped forward.

He winked at them, and resumed his labours. His own scales were an iridescent grey, his mate's carmine red. The cab they had started in was little more than a bump to arch his mate's lower body on, and that was just fine by hi-

She stiffened, pulled him close, and then exploded into his mouth.

He could've accepted the gift gracefully, but why would he keep it all to himself? And so, he flung his head back, sending his mate's seed all over the street.

The hot dog lady was rather happy about that, holding up her hands under the shower like that one scene from The Shawshank Redemption, albeit less pungent. The dragon nodded, and turned to his mate.

She lay there, chest heaving, heat radiating off of her. She grinned at him, inhaled, then sent a celebratory gout of flame skyward.

Was it good for you?

Oh, yes. She rolled off the remains of the car, padded away, and spared it a glance. You know, I don't think my insurance covers this.

You could always lean on them. The dragon stretched his neck left and right, to get out the cricks. Satisfying work, but exhausting.

No, I needed a change anyway. But what will I tell my wi-

The cameras recorded them both freezing, and then arching their backs as batlike wings burst from them. After they craned their necks to look at their new appendages, they trotted towards each other and nuzzled.

What about this one? The not-female pointed her head at the still transforming woman.

She'll join us shortly. So, said the male, you hungry?

His mate looked at a bus nearby. I was thinking spit-roast.

Her mate Sent a smirk, and then cleared the distance to the far side of the bus with a single powerful leap. His wings dwarfed the vehicle, the people inside cowering away from the windows, realizing far too late that their doom was upon them. Really? Because I was thinking kebabs.

The dragon that had once been a Pakistani man rolled her eyes as she trotted up and straddled the other end. That's racist.

The insects inside tried to get out the door, only to find the male's tail holding the door shut. Some tried to get out of the emergency exit in the roof. Too little, too late.

On three, ready? One, two-

ENDF

"DFC" by Eulalie "Nequ" Quentin 2015 Creative Commons Fan stories welcome.

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I once saw a GIF of a CGI dragon having sex with a car (no, don't ask, Bing it yourself), and I had an idea for a TF story based on being he unfortunate (or not, depending on your point of view) person trapped inside. Recently, I was reminded of the existence of a subreddit about dragons having sex with cars. "Having sex with" was replaced with a single word, which can doubtless be gleaned from the acronym.

A brief perusal of a few samples of the subreddit's content left me cold. They seemed amateurish, picayune. And I renewed my resolve to pen the story.

Then I get to work and the Internet's down.

And here we are.