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Alan Sparrowhawk shut the door to his family's barn, the musty smell of hay and grease only getting stronger when he did. He moved around tools and stacked feed, stalls empty with the weather clear and clean. He climbed up to the barn's loft, checking the time on his phone before moving into the center of the loft. He'd pushed aside old boxes stowed there and made enough space for a chalk circle three meters in diameter.

Circumscribed inside the circle was an eight pointed star. Quartz crystals set outside the circle on every point. From an open window, Alan noted the sun just setting. He'd told his parents he'd gone for a hike in the woods, not unusual for him, just a tiny excuse so they wouldn't try to look in on him for the next hour. The last thing the young man needed was to have his dad barge in on yet another desperate dragon summoning.

This particular ritual came on special order from an occult book Alan spent too much money on to have sent to him, having to translate it, painstakingly, from Greek with the help of a local university professor.

He stood over the circle and removed a pocket knife from his jeans, opening the longest blade and pricking his thumb. He squeezed it out over one of the quartz crystals then moved to the next, bloodying each in turn before sitting in the center of the star. He took out his phone, opened his notes, and read in Greek the following enchantment:

Take this offering, dragon,

a sample of my blood

to entice you, taste me,

Alan Sparrowhawk.

Body and soul I place

in your claws for an audience.

“My my—" Alan yelped and tumbled over, scooting away from the tall, imposing figure that spoke. A voice of smoke and velvet, standing at one of the quartz crystals, outside the circle. “Easy, little bird, I'd hate for you to ruin this summoning circle."

It was a dragoness, standing in the light of the sunset, its orange rays cast across a sleek, black hide. Obsidian scales practically glimmered, cut by burgundy scales that flowed down her front over her breasts to her crotch, thighs, and under her tail. Her muzzle was lizard-like, pointed, with two slender fangs pushed past her lips. The underside of her jaw soft looking, contrasted by the rigid plates on her brow framing her amber eyes. Her horns were like an elk's, sweeping up and stabbing outward at three different points. Her ears were a set of frills on the side of her head, which matched the dorsal frill that started between her horns and swept along her back to the tip of a spiked tail. Her wings were the same burgundy color on their webbing, the arms of them black.

Alan didn't know how long he gawked at her. He couldn't help it—she was nothing he expected and everything he wanted. Just the chance to talk to her…

Fortunately, the dragoness lacked patience. “Yes, I know I'm stunning, now pick your jaw off the floor. Our time is limited, after all."

Alan nodded, “Right, uh… you speak English?"

“The magic of the circle remedies petty differences in language," she said, “Come now, you summoned me but didn't know how my magic transcends any barriers of Babel? Not that you are owed this, little bird, but you do know not to leave the circle, right?"

Alan did. The circle protected him from her, but if he left it he would be helpless to her power. She could bind her soul to his to stay in this world, and he would end up at her mercy until she decided to be rid of him. Alan stood up, still utterly dwarfed by her, and stepped closer, careful with his feet to not step on the chalk, even a slight scuff could ruin the summoning. Closer to her, the scent of hay, mildew, and greasy tools and tractor parts was drowned out in a fragrant, smoked anise odor. Like a stick of incense burning.

She studied him much as he studied her, a smolder in her amber eyes. “You did not summon me for the usual reasons, did you?"

“I-I did… did want a bargain I mean… I—" he licked his lips, “Sorry, you're just…"

“Everything you ever dreamed of?"

Alan's face flushed red enough to accent her burgundy scales.

“I can smell the desire pouring off you, little bird. Most humans summon me so I may exact some revenge or secure some power in the world for them, but you wanted nothing but me, didn't you?"

“I… that's not…" Alan swallowed the knot in his throat, still unable to look at her. “I didn't call you here to ogle you."

A toothy grin. “I'd hope not, little bird. I can see something deep in you, squirming like a worm to the light. I wonder if you feel it."

Alan's brow furrowed and he finally looked at her. “What do you mean?"

The dragoness's spiked tail flicked across his body as if to gesture to its entirety, “It is not just desire but envy you stink of. You do not simply want to meet my kind or even bed it. You chafe within your human shell and desire something different, something so alien you struggle to even imagine it, much less articulate it."

A pit opened up in Alan's stomach. “I-I've never wanted—why would I pursue something that isn't possible?"

“You wouldn't allow yourself to believe because then every setback would sting even deeper—a natural human impulse. But the thing is, little bird," she leaned towards him conspiratorially, sparks flashing between her muzzle and the invisible barrier she almost touched, “If you step out of your cage I can grant you that wish."

Alan stepped backwards. “You're just trying to get me to leave the circle so you can bind my soul to yours."

She shrugged her wings. “It would be required. Such a radical transformation to your body would be so painful the shock would kill you without the intervention of a soul binding. Of course, with the soul binding it will be a whirlwind of pleasure the likes of which no living mortal can comprehend."

Alan bit his lip, heart thumping in his throat. It mortified him that she wasn't wrong. Even in his most private of thoughts he never admitted how badly he simply wanted to be her. A dragon. The idealized form of beauty, wisdom, and power.

“It is your choice, little bird, I cannot force you."

His hands balled into fists at his side, nails pinching into his palms.

“You do not have the luxury to deliberate too long."

If he did this, he'd have to give up everything: his family, friends, his career. A change like this would upend everything. But still, that ragged raw desire clawed at his ribs, begged to finally be let out, be allowed to pursue everything Alan truly wanted. Everything else in his life suddenly seeming more like distractions from an obvious truth:

Life wasn't worth living if he couldn't be like her. He squared his shoulders, and she licked her lips. Alan said, “Swear on your name that when I step from this circle you will bind me to you and change me into a dragon, swear that when you bind me that you will still allow me my freedom."

“Tsk, I planned to keep my word, but it is wise of you, little bird, to ask me to do this. I, Svelkeshsanna," soon as she said her name, her entire silhouette glowed with a crimson aura, lashing out around her like tongues of fire, “Swear on my name to bind your soul to mine so I may safely change you into a dragon, and that in this process your mind and freedom will remain under your power." When she finished, the aura around her faded into nothing.

“Then it's done?" Alan said in the silence.

“So long as you break this cage, little bird."

“Before I do, what should I call you?" To call a dragon their true name openly around others invited danger for the dragon.

“Heh, how sweet. You may call me Sanna."

Alan stepped on one of the chalk lines of the star, dug his sole into the floor, and swiped it to the side. It only smudged the chalk, but that was enough for the incantation's circuit to short: a spark, pop of light so blinding Alan fell backwards. Vision swimming, he blinked away tears, and saw the floor blackened, burnt, a small fire spreading. He moved to put it out, but an obsidian foot stamped on it and smothered it. Four taloned toes, heel lifted like a crane's neck into a digitigrade formation. It only just occurred to Alan how many bones he might need to break in order to match Sanna's body.

Sanna fell into a crouch before him, her wings spread like a gargoyle on a church roof. “Mmmm, you know why I answered your summons, little bird?"

That anise aroma prickled at his sinuses, got stuck in his throat. It seemed to pour off her and fill the barn as fog fills a bay. Had it always been this strong and his barrier had been protecting him? Her snout hovered a handspan from his nose. Fine burgundy scales ran right to her lips, which seemed soft, not thin lines resembling a beak, but a little fuller. They opened and he caught sight of her forked tongue, a golden stud above where the forked ends joined.

“Well? Not even going to guess?"

She leaned closer, her musk so pungent that any words Alan might shape became lumpy stones he couldn't push out his throat. Her hands brushed his cheek—scales sliding on skin. She cupped his cheek and giggled. “Hehe, you know, I'm flattered by how flustered you are. A dragon's scent is unique, and doesn't affect everyone equally. It means you, in particular, little bird, are receptive to me. I knew it the second I sensed your summons—your soul called out to me, told me to come here and bind you to me. That's why I came here."

“I—" soon as Alan managed to open his mouth, Sanna sealed it with her lips. He'd been right—they were soft. The hand cupping his cheek had slid to the back of his head, holding him there while he shook, eyes wide, her tongue and saliva forcing its way into his mouth. Those forks teased and traced the back of his throat, golden stud grinding into his tastebuds. Her saliva was sweet with a sort of smoky heat to it—a fine tequila. She forced her spit into the back of his throat for him to swallow. He did, feeling his dick straining against his shorts.

She broke the kiss and licked her lips. “Mmm, I like the way you smell and taste, too. So… pliant and receptive." She leaned closer and whispered, “I don't have to touch you to bind and change you, but it's so obvious how badly you need me, it'd be a shame not to see how far I can make you fall for me." Her palm slid down to his shirt, fingers curling, claws digging into the fabric and pricking his skin. She shoved him on his back, his head knocking against the wooden floor. He gasped, seeing lights again, and what felt like scalding water poured across his front. He looked down to catch sight of his shirt burning away into golden flecks of light, dispersing into dust as she disintegrated first it, then the rest of his clothes.

Fwap. His cock slapped his belly, furious erection suddenly freed to swing up with enough force precum wetly splattered across his front and—

Across her flawless muzzle.

It actually made Sanna pause, blinking down at his erection. “My my, and more endowed than I expected." His throbbing cock reached up to his navel now, so swollen Alan knew a single stroke might set him off. She licked the offending strand of precum from her muzzle and her tail and wings shivered. “Oh, I am going to have fun with you, little bird."

Alan could barely breathe, stunned by so much blatant, smoldering lust in Sanna's gaze. She touched his chest again and spoke in a hissing, sibilant tongue that rang in Alan's ears, coursing through his head and down his throat to his lungs, filling his chest with a fire that reminded him of the acrid joints he passed between roommates a week ago. Only, as those bellows burned to something unbearable, his whole body breaking out in a sweat, Sanna's words came into focus:

“—so heed these words in binding, two souls binary stars, Alan Sparrowhawk you are my orbit now and you mine. I Svelkeshsanna bind you to me, as you bind me to this world. So spoken, we are one." The heat in Alan's chest collapsed, flooded down to his toes and fingers then settled, or rather, his soul burned but his body now relished the heat and power of it.

“It's done?" Alan asked.

“It is done."

“Wha-what now?"

“Now, we enjoy this body of yours, little bird, one last time before saying goodbye to it."

Her muzzle dipped down and she pulled Alan into another kiss. The softness of those lips flush to his, opened then closed, a tilt of the neck, pressed deeper, her tongue a whip lashing into his mouth. More of her saliva, its smoky-sweet flavor even better. “Mmmph—hrrk!" Sanna cut off his moan when her tongue launched down his throat, a viper striking deep inside him. His head tilted back as her dextrous, spongy muscle plumbed his neck, swabbing esophagus and lining it with more of her drool. Alan squirmed, grabbing her shoulder, finally feeling those soft scales in his hands. Immediately his fingers swept along and groped her flesh, relishing in how her scales felt while swallowing round the tongue plunging in and out his throat.

Just as Alan's left palm filled with Sanna's breast, she sat up, her tongue dragged backwards, a whole foot hauled from his mouth before she licked her chops and it retreated into her maw. She wiped drool from her muzzle and said, “I should have warned you before, but given our compatibility, it seemed a shame to scare you off. My scent? My spit?"

“Ahh!"

“Oh, you're feeling it aren't you?"

Everywhere her saliva touched now buzzed, whole mouth tingling with electricity, throat itching to be filled again. She shoved three fingers into his mouth, grinding them against Alan's tongue. He sucked on them immediately, groaning and bucking his hips. He felt his balls tighten as Sanna pumped her digits in and out, stimulating each of those buzzing nerves on his lips and tongue.

“A dragon's body is a magnet for certain humans, and it just so happens our polarities are perfectly matched. It's genetic, inescapable. I told you I would leave your will intact, but I doubt you will ever want to leave me, will you, little bird?"

Bound as he was to her, what life did he have but hers? She plucked her fingers free of Alan's lips, he sat up, shoving his face into her abdomen. Her scales on his lips made his head buzz. That anise musk so strong it made his toes curl. He whimpered as he licked up sleek scales to the dimple of her navel.

“That's it, pet, here," Sanna stood on her knees, putting her sex level to Alan's face. “Worship your Ness."

Fine burgundy scales led to a set of pouting labia that was plump and flushed with blood. Her clitoris lifted like a horn from the crest of her lips, the hood almost pinched round her swollen labia. The smell of anise turned pungently sweet, a too-spiced mulled wine presented to him. He kissed her there, finding her flesh so supple. He licked down the center of her labia, getting a little shudder from her when it went over her clit. Alan wanted to pleasure her—prove that he could be just as magnetic. He spread her sex with his fingers, finding violet flesh, sticky strands of her arousal leaking down her vagina.

Alan planted his lips around her entrance, sucking in her emissions before thrusting his tongue into her. Nectar soaked his tastebuds, and Alan almost screamed, feeling his cock throb and spit. His balls clenched. A rope of cum blasted his chin, spurting across his front. He couldn't handle that sharp, sweet spice overwhelming his senses while his mouth still buzzed from her saliva. Her walls squeezed his muscle, urging him to dig it deeper, his face pressed tight to her entrance, her folds wrapped around his nostrils. Cum continued flooding down his front and matting down his pubes. His cock still erect even as his orgasm ebbed, but he barely noticed with his face smothered in her. Alan needed his tongue deeper, lapping and undulating around her walls. Sanna moaned and put a hand on the back of his head, rubbing along his hair.

More of her arousal oozed into his mouth, enough he needed to swallow around it. She gyrated her hips into him, grinding his lips against her sensitive sex while his tongue wriggled inside her until his lungs burned again for air this time. It was Sanna who yanked him back, ordering, “Breathe pet. I can't have you suffocating on my sex yet. Besides, this will be so much more satisfying when you have a tongue like mine."

Alan sucked in a breath as she moved off him, standing with her back to him. She said to herself, “This musty loft won't do… Ah, your bed should be big enough."

Before Alan could ask how they would get back to his apartment in the city, she'd already swiped a circle in the air with her tail, making it waver with heat and explode into a mirror tall as Sanna. In the mirror was Alan's childhood bedroom in his parents house. She walked through the mirror, now in his room, and reached out back into the barn to him, “Don't worry, I'll see to it your parents and sister don't disturb us."

Dazed, Alan simply took her hand. She yanked him through into a bedroom he rarely used. A dingy old desk had an out of date desktop computer at it, there were posters of dragons on the walls, a bookshelf stocked with fantasy paperbacks. Even his comforter, he'd forgotten till now, was a picture of two dragons fighting in the air that he got when he was sixteen.

He sensed—smelled?—her amusement as she took in the room, and his embarrassment made him mutter, “Sorry, I know—"

Her tail touched his lips. “Hush, little bird. It is adorable."

“M-my mom got me into dragons—she, um, likes them, too."

“Hehe, I'm sure she does," Sanna said as she sat down in the bed. She settled back against the headboard, and spread legs and wings, opening her dripping sex for him again. His room already reeked of her, and his erection had never relented. “Come to me, and don't worry about noise. No one is going to interrupt us."

Wordlessly, Alan climbed onto the bed feeling like the fumbling virgin he'd been at seventeen. He stopped when his knees straddled her tail, huffing as her scent began messing with his head again. He licked his lips and said, “I-I don't think I will last very long."

“Oh, little bird, I will take care of that. Now," she pulled him down into another brief kiss, getting his breath to hitch before she said, “enter me, and be forever changed."

Panting, Alan wrapped his fingers round his thick shaft and aligned it with her sex, watching wide-eyed as his meatus kissed her pussy, then sank inside her entrance. Wet, gripping heat enveloped him in its steamy embrace, beckoning Alan deeper. He gasped, feeling her pinch tight around his glans, her labia fluttering. He bit his bottom lip as his balls churned. He didn't notice Sanna move her legs, hooking her ankles around the small of his back before yanking him down.

Alan's cock plunged inside her. His hips smushed wetly to hers. His cum smeared into her scales and juices. Drowned in the cloying walls of her cunt, his dick throbbed and ached, sent electricity up his spine. A shock in his skull and he screamed into her chest.

“You're so close," Sanna urged, “Fuck me, Alan, please don't stop, don't let it overwhelm you."

Teeth grit, eyes watering, Alan rolled his hips, humping in short, shallow thrust, his dick stabbing deep enough to hit her cervix. “Yes!" Sanna moaned, bucking into his thrusts, their hips mashed together, his balls getting drenched in her juices. She wrapped her arms around him, tongue lolling from her mouth. The tumultuous heat of her sex rippled across his shaft as he thrust faster and faster. Half his length now yanked back before jammed inside her—her silken tunnel fluttering across his flesh.

Sanna's claws pinched into his back and she hissed in draconic, “Release this coil of skin, become the scales you dream in." She raked those daggers down his spine and Alan groaned, feeling blood spill across his back, prickling with a strange, intoxicating sharpness. Not a masochistic pleasure, but something dancing past it. The blood on his back rushed down his side onto her stomach, sizzling and steaming, boiling on her skin. Alan growled as a feeling like a spectral fist climbed out his throat and punched his mouth forward, more skin shedding and falling off. He screamed again, his tongue alien and exciting as it dragged across Sanna's flesh. Alan tasted her heat, her fertility, her need.

He snarled and pounded his hips harder, Sanna moaning wantonly, wings juddering. He felt her cunt try to crush his cock as her inner muscles spasmed, his dick almost thrown out, but the now-pointed crimson tip of it remained nestled inside, a spear meant for forcing holes open. Alan growled and bulldozed her pussy, prying her open, cunt squirting around his fat draconic shaft.

Sanna released her muscles and Alan went back to rutting her. Both beasts now, Alan half changed. Skin slaking off in favor of rippling, shimmering amethyst scales. An ache barely noticed in his tailbone exploded, and Alan roared as his tail sprouted out his backside. It wriggled and thrashed until Sanna's tail reached up and coiled around it, tangling them even more together.

Sanna's scent had changed, became more textured, anise separated into a rich array of aromas, heat and spice, fragrant and pungent. An instant recognition: she was ovulating.

Alan ground his dick deep, pointed tip now threatening to pierce her cervix. He stopped and looked up at her. “You will carry my clutch," he growled. He didn't notice his voice had raised in pitch while also at the same time growing huskier.

“Heh—nmm! Yes—I want it," she sucked in a breath through clenched fangs as he rammed her again. He enjoyed how she wriggled beneath him with each rocking thrust. “A-A… final gift I want you to give me."

“There will be more."

“Ah-ha, th-there will, pet, you have no idea," Sanna said as she reached past his ears, which had flattened and spread into frills. She pulled him into a kiss, and they locked muzzle to muzzle. Their lips folding and pressing together, her whimpering into his maw as Alan's tongue flooded hers. He loved the bead of her stud grinding into his tastebuds as their muscles tangled and worked in and out of each other's mouth. All while Alan's cock continued pounding her cunt, heating up at the base. The flesh flushed with blood, engorging.

Sanna felt it too, her head tossed back, horns knocking the headboard. “Yes! Knot me!" she screamed as Alan slammed the bulb one final time inside her clasping cunny. Her whole bottom shook and shivered, fluids gushing into Alan's now scaly balls. He snarled and bit down on her shoulder. His fangs punched easily through her scales, and made Sanna squirm deliciously, coaxing more pleasure through their tie. Alan could not hold it anymore, his roar muffled by her scales when his balls clenched, cock pulsing, cum cascading through his urethra in a virile flood to her womb.

And when he erupted inside her, his wings erupted from his back; their amethyst arms stretched out to reveal rose sails, knocking into the ceiling fan and casting the overhead light through Alan's translucent rose membrane onto them as he continued gyrating his hips in the now pink light. It felt so good to just tug his knot against her sex as his seed flooded his Ness. Sanna's cunny milking his shaft. Clench, pump, squeeze, flush, the rhythmic pounding of their hearts making new life. Creamy ropes of cum spreading through her sex, surrounding his shaft in its boiling heat, each new clench of his balls making Alan shudder, fangs still buried in Sanna's shoulder, who now stroked his neck with one hand, other tracing the sleek silver horns that spilled backwards from his scalp.

Sanna kissed his cheek and whispered, “Can you feel it yet, pet?"

A strange tingling, warmth radiated from his spent testes. A single ache retreated into a fresh wave of boiling heat and Alan groaned, finally releasing her shoulder. “Wh-what's happening to my… ohh fuck, ahnf!" Alan quaked, pleasure exploding through his loins. He felt his cock shrinking inside her, thick, viscous semen oozing around his retreating knot. His dick throbbed and buzzed even as it declined. The grip on his neck kept him from looking down, Sanna's warm amber eyes bore into his.

“Don't fight it, just savor it."

“Nnng—it-oh god!" He worried his bladder had burst with the liquid heat pouring through him, but it was the final watery ropes of cum spilling into her sex as his tip slid free. His groin buzzed with tightly coiled pressure. Alan yowled and humped into Sanna's messy cunt, cock brushing limply into her folds as it collapsed into his scales. Only then did he notice his testes had folded back inside him already, that strange spring of electricity winding tighter as the caved in scales shaped into a set of labia, crowned by a clit. All the while, Alan couldn't stop grinding his metamorphosing pussy into hers. Their clits rubbed together, and Sanna's satisfied sigh Alan echoed with a rakish moan, now noticing the sultry timbre of his voice.

Sanna had turned him into a dragoness. The thought slid into place—that was what she had meant, so far buried he never thought to consider. The coiled heat in his belly sprung, his back arched into another scream. Nectar, his, squirted messily across her cunt, splashing her tail, mixing with his thick draconic seed, a pungent new smell of his sex, his heat, his need. Sanna purred, Alan felt his—hers, God even that! Her her her. She spasmed again, spurting more fluids across them both, her nipples tender and sore as they filled out, pushing up against Sanna's. She shuddered and sprayed all over their sexes, still gyrating her hips.

“I told you," Sanna whispered, “I would make you like me, pet."

“Oh, Sanna, holy shit—I-I'm really…" Alan flapped her wings. “I'm a dragoness."

“And? Are you satisfied?"

“I'm amazing."

“Mmmm, excellent." Her forked tongue flitted from her lips, nostrils flaring as she inhaled. “You smell absolutely delectable, and this house…"

Alan smelled it, too. A strange yet exciting hunger blossomed in her as she took in the changed scents of her family. “You… you said our attraction was genetic?"

“The rest of your family might not be as magnetic as you, but you can feel their pull, too."

Alan should have protested. Should have been disgusted at the shared lust simmering through both dragonesses. Instead, her muzzle stretched into a lascivious grin, “Why stop at one Sparrowhawk when you can have the whole flock?"