FSE

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Every dragon believes themselves to be the closest thing to godhood that any mortal could achieve. And it would be seen as arrogance if not because they can often back up such claims with the power they wield. With lifespans that can reach millennia, magical acumen that borders on miracles, and strength that makes even the greatest of champions tremble, little can prove that a dragon fall.

However, this is one aspect of each and every dragon that is the driving point of their power and the nail that seals their coffins. That, of course, is greed.

No matter the dragon, they all covet what they don't already have. Some hoard gold, while others collect stores of knowledge and maintain a sense of stability.

Draykan has his harem.

From the moment the dragon was freed from his confinement by the cult of Zelbia, Draykan has slowly been meeting, rescuing, and conquering strong-willed women who happily flock to his side. But what is the point of having strong-willed women if they are stuck forever at his side?

“So, ladies," The dragon says, his hands upon the countertop of their shared Anteronian Apartment. “The Dragon Council has been messing with me, and I still owe the city for the damage me and our two-headed friend over there caused. I can't leave until I've paid it all off, but that doesn't mean you can't go out into the world and get things done. So, I splurged on some magic rings that'll keep us in contact with one another. I'll know where you are, and I can set up a beacon to get us back together when I need you. If they don't work for some reason, we should use this apartment as our rendezvous. So, you all have the freedom to do what you want. I trust you all."

And with that directive, each member of Draykan's Harem found herself let loose. For some, it is the same as any other day; for others, it is the dawning of an entirely new chapter in her life.

In the category of the latter is Estrasa. The humanoid sorceress looks over her pearly white hand. She watches the glimmering sapphire ring with a frown upon plump lips. “Freedom?" she asks herself. “What does freedom mean to me?" It's a good question for one who spent so long shackling others to her will. A swift defeat at the cocks of the dragon saw her under the shackles of the Paladins of Love. It offered a chance at redemption for her evil ways, but what exactly does that mean for her? What is her place? Who is she?

Underneath her dark and obscuring cloak, leathery wings emerge, lifting her up into the sky and off to the west, in the direction of the Wildlands.

It was like she never left. The Tower of Darkness still looms over the Wildlands, its influence casting a shadow over the land she once claimed as her own. As she flies closer to the edifice, she paused in mid-air.

A magnificent green and purple dragon rises out from the tower, and the former dark mistress of transformation finds herself diving down into the canopy as the new mistress of the tower swoops over toward her previous position.

She shrinks into the size and shape of a mousefolk, her cloak covering her entire form as she scrambles and disappears deep into the underbrush.

The dragon crashes among the foliage, acid dripping from her mouth. Her voice is deep as she rumbles through the trees. “The former mistress," she growls. “This isn't your demesne anymore. Is it mine, or do you forget all I've done in the Tournament? No one wants you here, and no one ever will! If you want to find where you belong, go bother that dark elf in her little cavern and leave this place be!"

With that, the dragon rears her head back and spews forth a gout of flame-like acid, which burns and destroys a swath of the foliage, dissolving it into a pile of nasty goo.

When she flies away, she laughs, returning to her tower and to the dark creatures that call it home and call her mistress.

The little mouse pokes her head out from one of the last few remaining bushes, her whiskers twitching before she pulls her cloak up over her head, transforming her hands into large, shovel-like claws. As she digs deeper and deeper, the scent of acid-dissolved foliage becomes stronger as the sludge seeps its way through her makeshift getaway.

That Dark Elf, yes, Zozafina. She claimed herself to be a protege of hers. Would she have what Estrasa seeks? The journey to find her would be deep and dark. She claws through the dirt and the rock, her body growing and shifting until she becomes a tunneling worm that doesn't just dig holes but creates the subterranean passageways that many will later use in their excursions in the ever-dark realms. The various kobolds and dwarves and deep creatures sense the approach of the massive thing, traversing miles upon miles in its quest to find the source of the magical energy it detects, until finally, the final barrier is penetrated not by the massive coiling creature, but by a tiny little beetle, nibbling through the last of the dirt and dropping down through the hedonistic palace of moaning delight deep inside the planet.

It is there, in the massive cavern, where the towering spires and ornate statuary mark the abode of the up-and-comer. Upon those steps, the beetle takes on the humanoid form again, alabaster feet treading over the stone and ascending towards the topless elf guards staring at her with determined dedication.

“No one is allowed without permission from Zozafina."

“Allow me to introduce myself," the woman says, her hand transforming into a massive claw.

The massive orgy chamber of Zozafina is a veritable flesh pit of elven bodies, shining with sweat into an obsidian sheen upon the floor. Their constant moans are a cacophony of delight and delirium, where the beginning of one sensation and the end of another blur the same as the beginning and end of each individual in a twisting clot of backs, arms, and faces. Nothing ends this decadence, not without the leave of their mistress.

But not this time.

The doors to the chamber burst inward, sending the dark elves this way and that, scrambling quickly to find new partners to slake their everlasting lust. At the same time, one of the guards falls through the threshold, stunned.

Hungry hands grab his naked chest, pulling him into their pile until he, too, disappears into the floor.

Estrasa steps into the chamber, bare feet over the naked bodies, dragging the second guard by his hair with her monstrous hand behind her. She lifts him and holds him forward, the whimpering male looking deep into the chamber, far to the other side, where sits the dreaded Zozafina.

Zozafina leans on one arm of her throne, a leg crossed over the other, clad in long boots made of the shiniest hide. Her outfit clings to her form, showing off every curve, tone, and bulge. Over her shoulders, she wears the silkiest cape made of spider silk. Languidly, she raises her hand and lets out a yawn.

“Is this how you great exalted guests?" Estrasa asks, dropping the elf. He yelps as he joins the erotic dance down beneath her feet.

“You assume a lot about yourself," says the dark elf sorceress. She sits up, uncrossing her legs and resting her hands upon the arms of her opulent throne. “You had better have a good reason to come here."

Her hand returning to normal, Estrasa lowers her arms to her sides. “You have something of mine, and I intend to take it back."

Zozafina's plump lips turn up into a smirk. “My, my, the dragon's slave wishes to boss me around, does she?" She sighs, pushing herself up to a standing position. “I admired the things written about you—how you conquered the wildlands with only your natural talent. How you bent people to your will and made them into the most horrific and pitiful of creatures, creating horrors this world hadn't known for generations. But really, what are you, Estrasa? I've learned much about you, especially after your showing in the Tournament of Pleasure. Do you know what they say about meeting your heroes, oh exalted Estrasa?"

“I don't have any heroes," Estrasa responds, her fingers twitching.

The dark elf sorceress holds her hand out to the side, palm up in a grasping motion. She slams her heel upon the writhing ground, and with a groan, some of the dark elven bodies rise, holding in their hand a glowing orb.

“I'll give you your little trinket that I own."

“What's the catch?" the hooded sorceress scowls.

“No catch," Zozafina says, taking the orb and holding it close to her chest. She sighs, closing her dark eyes. “There was a time when I would never let this go. There was also a time I would so happily hand this to you. Perhaps even recently, I would have fought you for this. But now, you can just have it." She hands the orb out. “After all, I have no more use for the useless trinkets of a useless child."

Estrasa's lips twitch. She steps forward, grasping the orb and taking it from the dark elf. “Thank you," she says, turning away.

“Leaving so soon?" Zozafina says, flashing her teeth. “You don't want to join my servants in a celebration?"

Estrasa stops, pocketing the orb within her cloak. “I cannot."

“Because you are the slave of a dragon?"

She lowers her head. “He rescued me."

“After he slaked his lust upon your body."

“I've done terrible things."

“Who said that? Your dragon?"

Zozafina flops back down onto the throne, crossing one leg over the other, resting her chin upon her knuckles. “You know, if you weren't under his thumb, you could always come here. What is it about him that keeps you going back? The fact that he has a couple cocks? Big deal. Are you afraid of him? He is one creature, and a single being cannot handle an army of this magnitude."

“And if he wants to mess with me directly, I have a great defense against him. His tastes are limited, and I am simply not his type."

Estrasa stands there a minute, clutching the orb close to her chest. “I am not his servant."

“Then, what is it exactly that you seek? Forgiveness? For what? From whom? You could make anyone do anything by changing their very nature into something that suits your whim. You are superior to those weak-blooded mongrels who do not have the innate power that you possess. Why force yourself to their level? Why betray who and what you are?"

“I am nothing," Estrasa says. With that, she leaps forward, transforming into a giant mole and tunneling deep into the ground with her mighty claws.

“Whatever that dragon did to her," Zozafina says, “It has completely broken her will." She shrugs, sighing. “And she doesn't even realize it."

Back at his apartment, Draykan wears a bathrobe and looks over the newspaper, circling some things and scratching out others. He takes a swig of his morning wake-up juice and taps the blunt end of his pen to his chin. “Hrmmm…. I can't take anything on the bounty board because that would mean leaving town, but I need some money…."

“I could offer you a solution to your problem, oh master," comes the sly voice of a snake, and so Modrana, the gorgon member of his harem, pops her head up from the opposite side of the dining room table.

“No thanks," Draykan says, folding his paper and stuffing it under his arm. “I'm in enough trouble as it is destroying a city block, and I don't want to do anything shady."

Modrana rests her cheek upon her arms. “Oh, I was hoping I could hire you as a bouncer. The last one I had apparently can't protect my club from a dangerous dragon.."

“Not much can," Draykan says with a smirk." He stands up and stretches, yawning. “Augh is that even enough coffee for the day, damn… But yeah, what are you doing still hanging around here?"

Modrana lifts herself, her scaled body on full display as she slithers up to her dragon leader, sliding around him, wrapping her arms around his sides, and leaning her chin upon her shoulder. “The others may have places to go, but my home is here in Anteronia, and my businesses can run themselves for a night or two without me. But for the nightlife of this city, having a dragon, a real dragon around is truly rare. I hope I could convince you to join my enterprise," she says, her eyes flashing and teeth baring, “Somehow."

He reaches up over his shoulder, pinching her maw shut. “Oh, no, you don't. You aren't going to trick me into doing your dirty work. Or do I have to teach you another lesson?"

She chuckles through his hold and rolls her eyes, fingers digging against his outfit, tugging at his garments.

A growl rises from Draykan's chest at this test, his grip loosening just a little bit, but his blood pumping. “Alright then, how about I,--"

Tap Tap! Tap-tap-tap."

Draykan pushes himself away from Modrana without hesitation and claws over to the door. When he opens it, he has to look down to see the petite human woman in pink with a heart motif all throughout her costume. She bites her lips, bringing her knees together, and looks at Draykan with pleading, heart-shaped eyes.

“Whoa, Purity!" the dragon says, stepping out of the way. “Are you alright? That's a hefty aura about you."

As she steps in with twitching movements, the darkness that surrounds her catches him like a foul stench. He grips the door hard and rubs his eyes, shaking the focus back into his head. “What happened to you?"

“D… demon…" Purity says, making it a few steps into the living space before she falls to her knees, her head low.

“Whoa, what demon? Don't tell me Zelbia's back!"

Purity shakes her head, her face a deep blush as her hands grip her skirt.

Modrana snickers as she stands, a hand on the table. “Well, if it isn't the local do-gooder again, come crawling back."

“This looks really serious. Modrana. Help me get her to the bed." Draykan says this, scooping up the human and flying toward the room.

“Oh sssuure," she hisses. “I suppose I'll be a huge help, then?"

Draykan lays Purity down upon his sprawling bed. Compared to the resting place, she seems so tiny and frail.

“Alright, then, show me where the curse is centered," he says, a frown on his face.

Modrana slithers in, standing in the corner of the room, gazing at the situation with piercing eyes.

Purity breathes heavily through her mouth, sighing and gasping as she does. Her hands move down her body, over her breasts, and between her legs. She grips her skirt and lifts it up, revealing to the dragon that she has no panties underneath and soaking-wet sex between her legs.

But aside from the obvious signs of her arousal, there is something else—a glowing mark stamped upon her womb. It is intricate and thrums with each heartbeat.

Modrana slithers up towards her, a smirk spreading across her face. “Well, someone can't escape getting into sexy situations."

“This is not a laughing matter!" Draykan snaps, gripping the sides of the bed. “This is a deadly curse and one centered on lust. If the demon that made it wasn't already dead… I'd kill it myself."

Purity covers her face, pressing her heels against the bed and pushing her hips toward the dragon. “Please, Draykan, you're a dragon, a paladin, a sorcerer. You gotta know something to help me!"

He blinks, frowning down at her. “Help you what?"

Purity pulls her hands away, her anguished face now one of degenerate excitement as her lips quiver and drool rolls down the side of her cheek. “HEhee… help me… help me get off and stop being… so … so horny!"

Modrana hisses, watching as Draykan looks down at Purity, a frown on his face. The gorgon crosses her arms over her chest, waiting with anticipation to see what Draykan's reaction is to the desperate request of the magical girl.

The dragon looks at Purity's face and then toward Modrana. He places his hands upon Purity's and helps lower her skirt.

Purity whines, biting her lip, closing her knees together, and curling up on the bed. “Fuck… fucking hell…"

Modrana hisses, sliding on up behind Draykan, placing her hands upon his shoulders. “So, my master," she says, tongue flicking against his ear. “You hesitate to bestow upon this needy girl the great gift you so eagerly give me and my subordinates, as well as your precious hoard. Why, oh why is that?"

He huffs, standing up, rubbing the back of his head, and resting his hand on his waist. “I recognize the catch with this curse."

“Oooh, do tell!"

“It has some mind component, stronger than yours, but… but I don't know what it is."

“Let me look at her, my dear dragon," Modrana says, rubbing her hands on his sides. “I'll help save her from her ailment, surely."

“Heh, no thanks. Something sneaky is happening, isn't it?"

Modrana pulls herself back, a hand upon her chest. “Oh, Draykan. Such an accusation!"

He stands tall, looking at her eye-to-eye, folding his arms over his chest. “I can force the information out of you if you'd like."

She snickers. “Well, that would be fun, but I suppose. Does daddy want to punish little old me? But I can tell you don't want me near this precious girl. Feel bad for fucking her?"

He snorts and looks over his shoulder toward Purity. “It doesn't feel right just fucking her every time I meet her. Besides… There's more to this curse than meets the eye."

Purity grumbles.

“But you're acting really suspicious, Modrana," He says, placing a hand behind her head and pulling her close. He plants a kiss upon her forehead and whispers. “Why don't you just tell me, huh?"

Modrana slithers out of his grasp and backs up, chuckling. “Alright, well, maybe this will be fun. That's a deadly curse that will tie someone eternally to someone else. If you make her cum, well, she won't exactly be her own person anymore, and she'd be yours. Just like me and all the others."

Draykan takes a moment to breathe in and then shakes his head. “It wouldn't be the same; you all accept the claim I have for you. She would be forced to listen to everything I say, and I can't have someone mind controlled to be with me."

He turns to Purity and wraps his arms around her, pulling her into a deep hug. “Purity, I'm sorry, but if there's something I've learned when it comes to curses like this, it's probably best to seek the greatest help you can find. I can see about getting another paladin to take care of you. They're all good people, and I'm sure some of them would be fine with the responsibility. It would mean having to change your whole life, though. Probably leave town forever and all that."

“I know…" Purity says, nuzzling up to him, wrapping her arms around her body, and whimpering. “I just thought if I had to trust anyone…."

Draykan pats her on the head. “Hey, cheer up. We're friends, and I'll help you. However, I can. I just have too much going on to drag you along on all my adventures."

Purity snuggles against him, her hips gently rocking, but she stops herself and finally speaks up. “Well, there's one thing you can do for me. I need to be away from work for a while while I figure out all this. Maybe you could help my boss out?""

Draykan lights up, a bright smile spreading over his face. “Oh, a job? Where?"

Purity grabs the newspaper from him and scribbles a note in his pen, handing him back the document.

“Great! I can do that. I love baking!"

Modrana's face goes from mild amusement to total horror, clutching her stomach and snaking back a bit.

Draykan places Purity back down. “How are you feeling?"

“A little better. Thanks for talking some sense into me, Dray."

“No problem, uh, Purity. You take care of yourself, okay?"

As the magical girl stands up, Modrana slithers up to face Draykan again, poking him in the chest. “What's the matter, 'master?' Are you going to leave this do-gooder unsatisfied? Forced to not get off after being so tortured by her curse?"

“Oh, I'll show you getting off," Draykan says, and the Dragon grabs her by the shoulders, pushing her down onto the bed, and hops onto it and on top of her.

Purity watches with wide heart-filled eyes, biting her lip as the rocking, squeaking, grunting, and moaning fill the room. She bites her thumb, her hand twitching as it grabs her skirt. But she shakes her head and steps back. “I'll… I'll just see myself out." She says, running out the door.

She pauses once more and chuckles gently. “Thanks again for taming her. It's a relief and one less criminal I need to worry about."

Draykan shouts, “No problem, pal!" as he rocks his hips, pushing his cocks into the snake woman, filling her and spreading her, and getting rid of all that pent-up aggression and urges.

Modrana screams in delight, running her hands through her head, pushing her tail up, and wrapping it around her dragon's body.

He leans in, whispering to Modrana. “Now, do you see? Isn't, ngth, choosing to, ffmmm, be with me so much, nnngh, better than… being forced!"

“S… shut up, nnnngh and aaah, fuck me, y-you stuuud!"

And so he does, the force of their pounding so legendary that Purity even feels the shaking outside on the fire escape, shaking her head and sighing. “Fuck… that could have been me. Yeah,… probably a good idea to be as far away from Draykan until this curse is lifted… he'd probably break before too long!"

Hooded figures surround the elf maid, her arms and legs strapped down by impressive enchanted bindings that keep her from moving. She is fully exposed before them, the blinding light upon her face keeping her from seeing their faces clearly, but what she does see is the figure before her in shadow, holding their arm to the side, and from their hand protruding a beam of humming energy.

“Now, let's begin your rebirth."

—

Galenna blinks out of her trance, the elf sitting on a park bench. She stands without moving a muscle and moves without lifting a leg. Like a ghost, she floats through the city without concern for anyone outside her scope. At least, that is what it would look like to anyone casually watching the strange and regal figure as she makes her way through the statue-studded walking paths. She stops beside a curvaceous feminine figure, watching as the object of her desire lands from a flight.

Draykan looks down at a note and then up to the building before him, where the wafting fragrance and the signage tell Galenna that it is the city-famous Baker's.

As natural, many gawkers stop what they're doing to watch the majestic dragon. But, her eyes do not linger on such things. Instead, she slinks behind the statue, a sly smile crossing her lips.

—

When Draykan opens the glass door to the establishment, the dragon is immediately hit with the wafts of freshly baked sweet treats and the brewing coffee. He takes a deep breath, his hands on his hips, and sighs. “Wow, now this is a business!"

“Ex-excuse me…"

“Oh, sorry."

Draykan steps out of the way as a woman with curly hair steps past him. She walks up to the counter, where many delicious delights are displayed.

Sliding in from the back is a rare treat, indeed. Quite the cutie made out of chocolate sauntering up to greet the customer.

Draykan licks his lips, pulling his tongue back in when he hears the effeminate, but most undoubtedly male, chocolatier speak.

“And that'll be for here, darling?"

“Yes, sir!" she responds, taking the slice of cake and a cup of coffee.

Draykan steps up to the counter, scratching his nose. “Uh, so, hi."

The baker's candy eyes roll up over the dragon's magnificent body. He strokes his chin, resting a finger upon a dimple. “Hi, there. You must be Draykan. It's a pleasure to meet you, though I'm surprised we didn't meet sooner."

“Huh?" the dragon then snaps his fingers. “Oh, right! You were in the Tournament, too!"

“It's a small universe, it seems," the baker admits. “Please, come sit, and tell me everything that brings you here."

—

In the back room, Baker sits on one seat, sipping his ginger tea gingerly. A black cat with bright red hair dressed in a pink-skirted uniform approaches the two and adds some extra cookies to their plate. “Well, well, that is an interesting tale. Ah, thank you."

The cat bows, keeping an eye on the dragon before turning around and swaying out of the room. Draykan keeps an eye on the cat, chomping on one of those delightful cookies.

“So, if it's to help out Libi, I'm sure we can find someplace for you here at the Bakery," Baker says. “But I usually have a rigorous training program for all the new recruits. After all, we have a reputation for selling to a discerning clientele. It's regrettable sometimes, but it's the price you pay for quality."

“You don't have to worry about me," Draykan says, gulping down some coffee, “I'm a bit out of practice, but I love to cook!"

“Oh, really, and what training have you had?"

“I'm self-taught!"

Baker catches his chest and sighs, his eyes fluttering. “A man after my own heart. Well, why don't we get you a uniform and have you working on the front?"

Draykan frowns. “But I thought you needed help baking."

“In due time. What I need is someone to help with the lunch rush."

Draykan shrugs. “Alright then. Glad to help. Oh, and about the pay…."

—

Draykan stands behind the counter, dressed in the pastel pink uniform quite tight upon him, his muscles threatening to rip out of the thing, and his apron looking more like a bib as it dangles around his neck.

The black cat comes out of the kitchen, giving him a little purr and an eye flutter while placing a tray of donuts on the counter.

“Not that busy of a day yet, huh?" Draykan says.

The cat giggles and saunters back to the kitchen.

Draykan frowns, his mind wandering to days of adventuring, when a cough brings him back to looking down.

The woman from earlier stands at the counter, placing a few coins before him. “Donut and coffee, please."

“Oh, yeah. Sorry," Draykan says, counting the change.

While he walks to the pot, she tilts her head, bouncing on her toes. “So, you're the runner-up of the Tournament of Pleasure, yeah?"

“Heh, thanks," he says, sliding the coffee over toward her. “But second place isn't really the best, is it?"

“It's better than anyone else could do. You're probably the most famous dragon in the world."

“Huh… I never really thought of it that way before."

“You could be a celebrity spokesperson for things or something, like a sexfight ring, maybe!"

“Well, I'm trying to lay low for a bit and helping out a friend and stuff."

Baker enters from the back. “Well, that's the lunch shift, everyone. AM crew, feel free to hit the showers. Draykan, I need your opinion or something." He wraps his arms around the dragon and leads him into the back, where they step up to a few beds of metal, each indented with the mold of a humanoid form, naked. Behind them is an oven where another such bed is. The scent of strawberries wafts out and flutters over Draykan's nostrils.

“Now, I need your professional opinion on this one, Draykan dear. Seems we got an order from a rather discerning and scaled client. They said they wanted me to try something different, so I'm thinking of trying a new mold."

“These are all ladies," Draykan says, glancing between the different shapes. “I thought you were a dude."

“Oh, my dear, dear, Draykan," Baker says, tapping his lip. Suddenly, he freezes, becoming nothing more than a statue.

Out from the closet bursts out a wooden mannequin, which grabs and dons an apron. “I'm a construct. I'm whatever I can make myself be. From a ladies' man like yourself, I'm asking which of these bodies looks like they'd be irresistible?"

—

The day goes on as people come and go from the establishment, including one young woman with curly brown hair, holding a coffee in one hand and a donut in the other. She passes by one of the alleyways, sipping on the coffee, while up on a nearby rooftop, a figure floats, following her down the streets as she munches on her treat and sips her drink.

Soon, the woman makes her way to an apartment building, whistling to herself as she enters all alone. But she stops, chews her food, swallows, and slowly turns, turns, turns.

A white porcelain hand grabs her by the face and thrusts forward, sending her crashing into her chair, sending it spiraling back!

Galenna floats in, one arm detached and the other floating away from her shoulder. She chuckles as the door closes and locks behind her. “I must commend you for your trickery, spy. I had no idea someone wanted to watch my Drayky so badly they'd send in someone so inconspicuous."

The woman wrenches the arm away from herself and kicks herself up to a standing position. In the same motion, she pulls out a dagger, her eyes flashing yellow, her teeth sharp as she snarls at the psionic intruder.

“Now that the jig is up, perhaps you'd like to tell me why you were interrogating my Drayky, hm?" It would be nice if you just cooperated."

The spy leaps forward, slashing the dagger at the elf.

Galenna floats back, her hand flying like a rocket aimed square at the spy's shoulders.

The spy spins around, her skirt lifting up as a tail grows, reptilian and blue, and hooks around the wrist of the psionicist. Turning, she slams the upper arm against Galenna's face, sending the elf crashing into her coat rack.

The shapeshifter's hair turns to a shock white, her ears point, and her skin becomes a light blue as she leaps forward, landing on Galenna's lap and thrusting her dagger downward towards those large breasts.

Galenna's free arm shoots forward, grabbing the shapeshifter by the throat, a burning passion in the protector's eyes. “Oh, they really sent someone special!"

A bit of broken wood flies from the floor, smacking the woman and sending her back onto the ground. A large white foot lifts up and slams down, heel digging into her stomach. The shifter coughs and writhes under pressure as Galenna grinds the heel against her.

The elf lifts up, producing a comb from within her dress and straightening her hair. “You may be special, but unfortunately for you, Draykan sent a sword to be his shield."

Her other leg flies away from her, kicking the shifter in the side of the head.

And at that moment, everything goes dark.

—

Throbbing pain and biting cold are the things the shifter feels. That, and a sense of immobility. She's floating and spread and naked. She blinks, her vision still blurry as the light blinds her golden eyes.

“You do a service to your profession, whatever that may be," comes the haughty voice of Galenna as she floats in, trailing behind herself a box. She licks her lips as she looks over the figure before her. “Curious that this is the form you take when you recover your senses. I wonder, is it a reflex that you have to hide your horrendous natural self? No, no, don't answer that. We're not here for that."

Galenna wills the light closer to the shifter's face, her own face only inches from the blue woman. “You'll need to tell me who you are and for whom you're working. The safety of my beloved requires you to tell me these things.

The shifter shakes her head, a sharp-toothed smile crossing her lips. “One's for free. Ever hear of Veshra Ashran?"

“Oh, my," Galenna says, a hand covering her mouth. Her eyes smile with a sinister glimmer. A moment later, she grabs Veshra's cheeks, squeezing them tightly until the woman's lips pucker. “I'm afraid I don't care."

Veshra blows her a repressed raspberry, getting spit on the elf's face.

Galenna floats back, flicking the droplets away with her mind and floating the box in front of her. “I suppose you'll be more ready to answer my other questions."

Licking her lips, Veshra tilts her head back, sticking out her chin. “Nope! Professional courtesy. You know."

“Oh, I know," Galenna says, the box opening. “And that's why we're going to have a little fun until your mind is broken and you tell me every… last… secret you have."

From within, that box raises out two giant dragon-like dildos that flutter as they float around Galenna's face. She caresses one of them, nuzzling her cheek against it. “And Drayky will be helping me have all sorts of fun with you with our extraordinary toys."

Bound by the elf's will, Veshra can do nothing as Galenna worships that false cock in her hands. The elf turns to face the thing, planting a kiss on the head and then rolling out her tongue, lovingly letting the long muscle slide up to anoint the worshipful relic with her saliva.

“Look, lady," the shapeshifter says. “If you're going to threaten me, you shouldn't threaten me with a good time. I'll have you know that I like it rough, and you're pulling off the psycho domme vibes on me, well… it ain't exactly got me pissing myself, got it?"

Galenna pulls her lips from the cock with a loud smack, her eyes haggard and empty as she looks at her captive.

With only the power of her mind, the elf flings the dildo's box straight at Veshra. It strikes the shifter right in the face, knocking her head back before it clatters to the floor.

The shifter shakes her head, spitting blood and landing by the elf's feet. She licks her lips and chuckles at that. “Ooh, you're a sassy one, ain'tcha? Look, I can handle a little rough. I bet you can, too, can't ya, bitch?" I know the look in your eyes. You got the mind of a broken doll, changed by the world. I'm right, aren't I?"

As she speaks, her tail twitches, and then it swishes, her eyes widening as she smiles, ready to pounce as she finds herself falling free from the elf's grasp only for her to croak when porcelain fingers wrap around her throat. The thrusting arm slams her up against the wall.

Galenna sits back, tapping the dildo against her cheek as she watches the shifter struggle and grasps her hand. “Dear girl, you know absolutely nothing about me, and your mind games are only going to serve to distract me from extracting the knowledge I seek. Now, let's try this again, shall we? Who hired you to spy on my Drayky? What are they offering you?"

Veshra rasps, her manic smile still on her face. “Choke on a dick."

In quick succession, Galenna's free fist thrusts right up into Veshra's stomach, pushing hard and deep against her skin. The shifter then reels forward, spitting up as the hand on her throat lets go. Finally, one of the cocks shoots right into her face, bulging her throat.

Veshra falls to the floor, groping at the shaft and pulling with all her might to dislodge the thing from her face, tears rolling down her eyes, her hair standing on end. She's greeted with a toe to her side, spinning her and sprawling out on the floor.

“You know, you should feel honored," Galenna says, floating above the girl parallel to her. “Do you know what I would do to have my breath taken away by my dear and heroic Drayky? I often fantasize that these cocks of his can use me as a hole as I lose consciousness. I suppose I can settle watching it done to you instead."

She yanks the cock out, and Veshra rolls to the side, curling up, coughing. Spit and blood drip down from the dildo and onto the floor.

With a hoarse voice, she snarls, slashing her hand at the elf.

Galenna lifts herself, but the claws catch onto her dress, tearing it and letting her giant tits spill out. Galenna yowls, her hand grabbing the woman by the hair and lifting her up until she dangles. “Perhaps, you need to be trained a bit more?" She asks. Don't worry," she says, leaning in, those abyssal eyes staring into the manic gold of Veshra's. “I know just how much a body can take."

As she speaks this, her mind flashes to the younger, more innocent elf waif, screaming and crying in terror after the slashing of the mental blade, her shoulder bleeding, and what had been her arm lifting off of the table and falling to the wayside.

“Loss of one faculty shall increase the power of others. You'll be an excellent soldier should you survive this, Galenna."

Galenna leans in and whispers. “You'll be an excellent addition to my Drayky's hoard once I break you, Veshra."

Another punch to the stomach, followed by a knee straight to her snatch, makes the shape shifter scream.

“Breaking already? Galenna says, “But your body is quite the tapestry of bruises, a bouquet of my devotion that I shall show to the great dragon!"

“P… Puh…"

With one fist cocked back, Galenna pauses, tilting her head. “Oh? Are you done, spy? Ready to divulge the secrets? Ready to be my dragon's newest toy?"

“Ah… hn… the… the… job…" she says, swallowing, shuddering, her body drenched in bruises and sweat. “It's nuh-not guild work. I… I don't know… the source. They suh sent a mannequin, and it delivered the message and left. I'm… su-supposed to leave my notes at the Bakery… tomorrow."

“Tomorrow? hm… yes," she drops Veshra onto the floor. “This is quite intriguing news. I can tell Drayky this news immediately, and he can use it. Very nice, indeed."

Veshra reaches her hand out, trying to push herself up or crawl away or do anything to escape, but a heel crashes down onto her hand, making her hiss.

“Now, now, now," Galenna says, licking her lips. She lowers herself, pressing her massive tits against the shape shifter's back. “We haven't finished the reprogramming quite yet, dear. I can do all sorts of things to you that'll make you the perfect pet for the dragon." She says this, the two cocks floating up toward Veshra's face. “Now, be a good girl and sing praises to your new master…."

The farmer's field is barren as the harvest has already passed, but there is still much work to do, tending to the planning for next year. Even so, without the manual labor in the fields, the farmer can instead work on more pious pursuits.

Blair Garten carries a few buckets in her hands, the chill of the air making for a brisk time as she marches from the farmhouse toward the large shed. She only stops her march when the shadow spreads across the sky.

“Well, I'll be…" she begins, whistling at the sight of the brilliant curvy dragoness landing in front of her. “If'n it ain't one of the fruits of Xasandra herself! Shucks, it's certainly an honor!"

Clarendala crosses her arms over her chest, rubbing herself gently and looking downward. “Oh, please, stop. I'm not special—not anymore, at least."

“Don't need to tell me much about what happened. I was at the Tournament, after all." She continues walking along the path, wrapping her arms around the buckets. “Come along and tell me what's troublin' ya. Maybe a bit of clerical guidance will help ya along yer path."

The dragon follows the farmer gal, and though she is taller than Blair, she feels so small. “I haven't heard from momma in a while, and not since Draykan and I… and then he said to her."

“I know, I know," Blair says, stepping up to the doorway of the large building. She sighs and shakes her head, placing her gloved hand upon the entrance. “Mamma Xasandra was primed to come back to the world in a big way durin' the Tournament. Her worship is so low that it's just my folks and me. And I haven't even found a man who could give me a perfect bun in the oven to continue the tradition. All-in-all, that dragon isn't the worst you could do. But after what he did, I reckon he's pretty much off-limits."

“You mean, you're not sure?" Clarendala says, slumping her shoulders. “So, you haven't heard from momma, either."

Blair shakes her head. “Fraid not. Bein' a goddess generally means tellin' someone a long time ago what to do and not repeating yourself."

“How can you be so sure that momma's listening to you, though, if you can't hear her voice, or you can't give her a hug, or you can't even see her."

“Oh, I see yer momma, alright," Blair says, placing a hand upon the holy symbol stitched onto her overalls. “I see her work every day and throughout the year."

“How?"

“Come on then, lemme show ya." She smirks and pushes the door open.

Clarendala peeks in curiously before she steps in, seeing the large open chamber before them. There, probably a dozen bovine females sit on benches, naked and casually doing little activities, such as knitting or reading, or writing. One has a calf bundled up and brought up to her breast, and the child suckles eagerly from her breast.

All of them look up as the two emerge, and Blair walks up to each of the cowgirls, placing a bucket down in front of each of them. “Got a special treat for y'all today. This is Clarendala, a bonafide believer from the outside world here to join in our worship service."

Clarendala blinks, scratching her nose, but she doesn't protest or correct the cleric. She just watches as Blair walks up to one of the women, patting her shoulder. “How ya feelin' today, Bertha, old gal?"

“Oh, I'm just brimming with the delight the mother goddess gives me, Miss Blair!"

“Good ta' hear. Need a little help with the supply today?"

“Oh, I think I got it!" Bertha says. She leans forward, holding her tits in her hands, and squeezes her breasts together. Milk pours out from her ample chest and into the bucket, and she sighs in delight.

“Praise the mother who makes the mother of us all," says Blair as she walks toward Clarendala. “Whatcha think?"

“I don't think I quite get it," Clarendala says.

“Each of these ladies feels connected to their goddess when they sow and reap their crops, whether from the fields or their bodies. Some of the sowings is going on right now, too, if'n you wanna see that."

Clarendala blushes. “N-no, I can't. I promised myself."

“Ah, right, to that stud dragon?" Blair barks, slapping Clarendala on the back. “You got your work cut out for ya since your momma wanted you saved up for somethin' special and all."

“Yeah…" Clarendala says, slumping forward. “If only I could have kept myself from being too horny."

“Ain't nothing. Each of us needs to spread our legs and take in the seed. Shucks, if'n I wasn't a priestess, ah'd be a momma many times now, myself. But you're here because you wanna connect with her, yeah? Any particular reason for that?"

“Well, the truth is that I was hoping to find out what's going on with the egg that Draykan sired. And I want to know what momma knows about the Dragon Council."

“Want all the eggs in one basket? I get ya. Come over here."

“Now, then, we're all gonna pray and hope that Xasandra gives us guidance on how you can be the most fruitful, even if you fell off the path, alright? Now, that'll be easier if you had some fruitfulness to reap or sow. But since you ain't gonna sow with no one, this'll be difficult."

“What if I reap?" Clarendala says, gulping.

Blair opens one eye, a smile on her lips. “Are ya sayin' what I think yer sayin'?"

Clarendala grabs one of the buckets and puts it in her lap. “I think so, but I haven't said anything to him yet, and I wanted to be sure."

The farmer priestess scoots up to the dragon sitting across from her. Blair presses her palm upon Clarendala's stomach, closing her eyes as she gently rubs over the scaled belly.

Clarendala looks away, sitting back with her hands pressed to the cold floor. “Um, so, w-what are you doing?"

“Just checkin' to make sure the goddess has blessed ya or not," Blair says, nodding and then pulling her hand free. “Seems like it!"

“I know mother has domain over all the growth of new life, but it isn't a process that she alone controls. How do you know it's from her."

Blair shakes her head. “Just because she didn't snap her fingers and get ya knocked up don't mean she ain't got nothin' to do with it. Do you think she'll disown ya just because you had sex? Ya think she'd be disappointed to be a grandmother? Shucks, far as I can tell, Draykan ain't only your baby daddy, but also the father of a sibling of yers. If'n it comes out nice with no problems, that is."

Clarendala takes a deep breath. “That's one reason I want to talk to momma. Can we get this going?"

“Sure as shootin'," Blair says. “Thanks to yer connection to the goddess, yer showin' enough signs to move things along. So, why don'tcha fill that bucket with that offerin' of yers?"

Clarendala grips her top, feeling the warmth on her cheeks. “Oh, I… I don't know. I've never, uh, done this before."

“Makes sense," Blair says, slapping her knees and standing up. “You want me ta help ya?"

“If it means getting in communion with her, yes." She finally resolves.

Blair walks around Clarendala, gripping the hem of her shirt. “Arms up," she commands.

The dragon does as she says.

Soon, the outfit is up and over her head, tossed aside, and not a moment later, the farmer's hands are around the dragon, massaging her large breasts.

“O… oh!" she gasps.

“Dontcha worry. I've done this lots of times. Don't be embarrassed. It's all part of the ceremony, and no need to make it weird. Now, lean forward. Thatta girl!"

The bucket before the dragon reverberates with liquid pouring in spurts. White milk streams into the receptacle with each squeeze at the dragon's tits.

The dragon closes her eyes, sighing as she leans forward, her hands on the ground before the bucket. “Oh wow… I can… I can see why the cows enjoy this work." She says."

“Mmm hmm. Quite the weight off them since they produce so much. But a fertility goddess in the makin' will have a bunch, too?"

Clarendala pants and huffs, her claws scratching the floor. “Keep… keep it up. It feels good."

“Well, shucks, I'll take that as a compliment," the priestess says, but she pulls her hands away, touching the dragon no more than necessary. “But I ain't yer girlfriend, and I ain't gonna cross a guy with two dicks and sperm fer days."

Blair sits back down across from Clarendala. “Now, put yer hands on the side of the bucket here, right under mine. Yes, now concentrate on the offering."

The milk in the bucket fills the whole thing. The dragon gasps when she finally sees it, gently rippling as their hands shift over the bucket. “Alright, concentrate on the milk.

“Now, think about your momma and what you wanna ask her."

“Okay. Mom, please, listen to me. I need to know what the Dragon Council wants and what's to become of Draykan's children. Yours and mine."

A soft chuckle rises from the priestess, and Clarendala looks up toward Blair, only to see the woman sit up and open her eyes, revealing glowing green slitted pupils where the once humanoid eyes were. “Well, isn't this quite the offering, dear?" the goddess asks. She grips the bucket and lifts it up, tilting her head back and pressing her lips to the rim. With giant gulps, she drinks deep from the milk, some of it dribbling down over the human's chin and staining her work clothes.

She sighs and drops the empty bucket. “I knew you'd make for a great mother one day. Any child nourished by this will be pleased."

“Are you… not mad at me, mother?" Clarendala asks.

The goddess wipes her arm over her lips and shrugs. “I knew that Draykan couldn't resist temptation and that you were ready to fully enter into the joys of breeding and motherhood. Making it forbidden would only make it much more entertaining to that rebellious side of yours."

Clarendala clenches her fists. “Were you… using me?"

“Oh, baby, don't look at it like that," the mother coos, wrapping the woman's arms around the dragoness's, squeezing them tightly together. “There was only a scant amount of time that we gods have to interact so fully in the world. We dare not interfere after the Tournament, which is why the egg Draykan and I made is now in a safe place."

“And where exactly is that?"

Blair leans in and whispers into Clarendala's ear. The dragoness's eyes widen at the response.

“Now, then, as for the council. They're off doing their own thing. Some hate Draykan, and some love them. Most think my kin and I are a bunch of race traitors. They are your people, though, Clarendala, so you should at least respect them. Just tell your child's father that he shouldn't take them lightly or step too heavily on their toes. But, you can tell him if he wants an in on contacting them, he should consult the birds and the bees."

“What does that mean?" Clarendala asks.

Blair blinks, leaning back and wiping her chin. “Wooo, Wee, I'm stuffed. Was that a euphoric experience or what?" She says this, patting her belly.

“Thank you for giving me time with my mother, but I must be going," Clarendala stands up, grabbing her shit.

“Don't be a stranger now, ya hear?" the priestess cries, waving her off with a grin.

Luxury is no stranger to the city of Anteronia, and the evidences that many who live here are some of the most affluent in the world is many. For instance, luxurious carriages powered by magic and technology can convey the elite without needing draft animals. Even then, some like to flex their wealth in other ways, such as the carriage that pulls up in front of the hotel. It's pulled by two beings, one centauress and the other a horsekin. They wear blinders and bindings, the centaur's arms tied behind her back, and their mouths gagged to prevent them from speaking, and yet, the two chuff and snort in the built-up excitement of their state.

Standing on the sidewalk beside the newly arrived carriage is a woman dressed in a scarlet dress that clings to her body. She huffs when the ostentatious display comes, waiting for the door to open before she steps in.

Like many of its kind, the carriage is larger on the inside than outside, making the sole occupant within it seem all the tinier. The older creature lounges in a hot tub in the finely-decorated room, a cigar resting in his beak and a glass of sparkling liquid garnished with a cucumber in his other hand. His bowler hat is the only thing he wears, but there is sloshing as he gently tips his head.

“Please, make yourself comfortable," the green old man says. “Drink's available to you on the counter."

The woman sits down on the bench opposite the tub, takes a deep breath, and then lounges back, her size increasing, her skin becoming large plated scales, her head splitting in half and forming into two distinct necks until the dragoness sits there, towering over the kappa.

“You've caused quite a stir, Didatrinox," the kappa says, snickering. “Who'da thought a spitfire like you would put out for your mark.

“Up yours, geezer," says one head.

“Let's not talk about that," says the other.

The geezer chuckles, pulling his cigar out and blowing smoke. He sips his drink and sighs. “There's nothing quite like mixing things together to get a new perspective, wouldn't you agree? I would say you should have contacted your local representatives before trying to blow smoke against a headstrong neophyte like Draykan. The boy comes from good stock… not as good as some dragon-kin we know, but you know what I mean.

Didatrinox sighs, resting one hand on her palm and another on her knuckles, her shoulders lounging back. “I got myself caught by him," she says.

“He's the most charming dragon I've met," says another."

“Well, enough about what I think about the matter, I suppose," the old kappa says, draping his arms over the edge of the pool, “A sexy lady like you doesn't come to my place for nothing. You want something, or you want to talk to someone."

“Draykan wants an in with the Dragon's Council. Most of them are way too far to get into contact with."

“And yet, you said you were going out of your way to find one of them if I recall correctly."

She pauses, narrowing her eyes with one head and widening them with another.

“You knew?"

“Of course, you knew."

“Of course!" The kappa chuckles, shuddering. “But what makes you think you can just waltz up here and make demands? You may be a dragon, but you obviously have some problems seeing eye-to-eye with yourself."

“Stuff it, old man,"

“Please, put a good word in for Draykan. He wants to know where he fits in this world. Because of that horrible cult, he missed so many of his formative years."

“Yes, an order dedicated to so many evil beings, wreaking havoc upon the innocent of the lands. Bad for business and for the psyche." He takes a long drag. “I'll see what I can do for you and your boy." He says this, taking a deep breath through his nose. “Things are starting to boil up around town. I'm sure you can feel it. Somethin's gonna happen, so maybe having another dragon around before things blow up will be a good idea." He points toward her, narrowing his gaze, “but he ain't getting any of my girls. You got that? I'll share 'em when I'm dead. And he ain't getting a meeting with anyone up top. Just a capo, got it?"

“What?"

“That's not fair!"

He leans back, a sneer spreading upon his lips. “Take it or leave it, Dida… but I think I could figure something out with you… if you give me a little something in return."

“What could it be?"

“Oh, fuck no…."

He chuckles, licking his beak. “Oh, you're a smart woman, Dida, and I'm nothing if not traditional. I've always been curious about what it looks like when you have fun with yourself. Show me, and Draykan will get front-row seats to at least one of the highest-ranking members of the organization."

“Never in a million years!"

“Can I have time to think about it?"

He shrugs. “Take as long as you want, gal. Though we both know you have far more time than I do, your number of friends gets lower and lower by the day."

She gulps, gripping the hem of her dress.

“I see,"

“This sucks."

The carriage stops, and the kappa finishes his drink. “Here's your stop. You have some time before you're supposed to be back in town, right? Think about it… how much your loyalty to Draykan means. Would you break a promise to give him what he wants?" He cackles at this, waving her away.

And with that, Didatrinox shifts back to her human form, stepping out of the carriage, taking a deep breath, and heading into the bustle of the city.