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Aaron trudged slowly up the steps leading to the Flightmaster's office. Getting called up wasn't a good sign. If he'd been one of the apprentice wyvern riders it could have signalled a promotion and his own wyvern. As an apprentice healer, he could think of no reason he'd for being called up that didn't involve him being in trouble. Lots of trouble.

Not that he knew what he could be in trouble for; since he'd ended up spending a day as a wyvern six months previous, the master healer had more than once commented on how the quality of his work with wyverns had improved. Of course, the master healing still complained when he shirked his duties, but he couldn't see why the Flightmaster would be calling him up for that; management of apprentices was a matter for their masters.

Not that he'd have to wait long to find out. Now at the top of the steps, he pushed open the door and stepped into the Flightmaster's office. The small, spartan office was unusually crowded; not only was the Flightmaster seated at his desk, but the master healer and the master mage were both present as well and they were occupying the only two guest chairs in the room. Probably just as well; sitting wouldn't give the right impression in front of the three masters.

“You called for me sir?" he asked the Flightmaster.

“Yes. An inspector from headquarters is going to be here tomorrow morning to look over our riders and wyverns. Unfortunately, one of my riders is currently dispatched on unofficial exercises with her mount."

Aaron knew that 'unofficial exercises' was the term used for when the aerie would hire out a rider and mount for civilian work. It was forbidden by headquarters, but no less common for it, especially as far from the border as this aerie was.

“Thanks to being forewarned," the Flightmaster continued, giving a nod to the master mage, “we have a chance to avoid any difficulties with the inspector."

Difficulties like the Flightmaster being demoted or otherwise removed from his post. Possibly even discharged entirely. Inner aeries tended to get the most inexperienced or problematic Flightmasters and deviation from the rules was not tolerated among them.

“All we need is to make sure that we have one extra wyvern for the duration of the inspector's stay. A replacement rider will not be difficult—there are always older apprentices around this place willing to get more experience in—but we do need a beast for the apprentice to work with."

Aaron blinked. “But surely the inspector knows just who should be here! They do censuses often enough." he blurted out. Then felt his cheeks burn in embarrassment as he realized he'd not just interrupted the Flightmaster, but had done so in front of two other masters.

The Flightmaster, though, ignored his outburst. “Those are always out of date. Riders get moved around far more often than censuses are performed, especially those who've just risen from being apprentices.

“More importantly, it's come to my attention that a few months ago you actually spent some time as a wyvern and appear to be none the worse for wear after the experience."

“Ah, yes, sir?"

“I would request that you do so again, this time for a longer period. We can't conjure even a half-trained wyvern out of nowhere; that's why the inspector cares more about the number of riders and mounts we have than their identities. But in you, we have a way to avoid this situation. I cannot and will not order you to do this, but know that if you agree all three of us will make sure our gratitude is known."

Aaron glanced over to where the master mage was sitting.

“Yes," the mage said. “This is something we agree on. It will be just like before, only this time for longer. You will need to act the part in public, but I can make the new form's instincts stronger so they will better overcome your human sensibilities."

The master healer picked up just as the mage finished speaking. “I will make sure you are excused from your duties for as long as it takes. Both the healers and the mages are responsible for themselves so the inspector will not be concerning himself with our affairs."

Aaron continued standing, staring blankly and blinking. Certainly, his time as a wyvern had been enjoyable enough and, as far from the border as they were, it wasn't like there was any risk of getting sent out. But, well. And in public this time, visible to everyone in the aerie.

“As much as I hate to press you," the Flightmaster interrupted Aaron's thoughts, “we need your answer now."

He felt his lips moving, seemingly answering without involving the rest of him: “I'll do it."

“Good." The Flightmaster said. “Your master will pass on your instructions later. For now, leave us so we can finalize our plans."

During the evening meal, the master healing delivered the Flightmaster's final instructions to Aaron. Afterwards, Aaron made his way to the required stall. It was one of the larger stalls, normally used for keeping sickly wyverns in. As a result, it was closer to the healer's offices and away from the edge of the floating island were the regular stalls were. As a healer's apprentice, most of his time with wyverns was in sick stalls, but he knew that they weren't exclusive to that use. Sometimes an unusually large or territorial wyvern would be housed in one permanently.

The stall had been cleaned out, fresh straw put down, and it had otherwise been made ready. Both the Flightmaster and master mage were present when he got there, but he comforted himself with the knowledge that he was still running early. Neither master was someone it was wise to keep waiting.

“Ah, good, you're here." The master mage said.

As the mage spoke, the Flightmaster leaned against the wall near a side door. “This should be interesting to see."

“Hopefully not." The master mage fumbled through his pockets, eventually producing a small vial. “Strip, then drink this. Set your clothes by the door there, I'll take them with me and bring them back when this is done."

There was only a brief hesitation before Aaron pulled his clothes off, dumping them in a pile by the door. Neither of the masters was likely to be suddenly interested in his naked body and he could hardly wear his clothes while turning into a wyvern.

The master mage handed him the vial. It was cold against his skin as he took it, chilling his fingers almost painfully. Like the previous time he'd been transformed, the vial was about the size of a finger. And, like then, he knew the glass would be thick enough that barely a swallow of liquid would be inside.

He pulled the cap off and handed it back. The potion inside reeked of wyvern musk more than any potion its size should have been able to do. Closing his eyes, he quickly swallowed the potion, doing his best to minimize how long he could taste the bitter flavour.

The vial was plucked from his hand as a sudden flash of pain sent him to his knees, gasping for breath. He could feel his body contorting, his bones shattering and rebuilding themselves in new forms. Another wave of pain left him curled on the ground, twitching. He could feel his limbs swelling and flesh growing between his arms and body.

“Is this supposed to happen?" A voice found its way to him, distant and distorted as his ears reshaped themselves.

He shrieked, feeling his pelvis tear itself apart as his spine extended into a tail. Even his toenails got into the act, rapidly growing and twisting themselves into the shape of claws.

“Unfortunately, yes. Thanks to the ban on experiments, we can't really work on improving it." Another voice said. Or maybe the same one; everything was so distorted it was impossible to tell and his mind was reeling so much he couldn't think.

Screaming filled his ears as his skull shattered, pieces of expanding bone momentarily piercing his skin before coming together again in a new shape.

“Don't worry, I've warded this stall so no one will hear this."

His growing tail lashed against the floor, scattering straw and slamming against the wall.

“I wish you'd warded my ears."

His arms, having become wings, wrapped about his still-expanding torso as though they could shelter him from the pain.

“I did recommend you not attend."

Parts of Aaron's body seemed to be settling into their new forms, no longer changing. He still had an agonizing pounding in his head, though, a rawness in his throat, and he was gasping with the effort of drawing enough breath into his much-expanded lungs to fill them.

“I'll listen to your advice more carefully in the future."

His legs ached with the rapid expansion of the muscles there and he was surprised to feel throbbing arousal between his legs despite the slowly subsiding pain.

“Ah, it appears the change is finished. It should be safe for us to leave now; I recommend giving him until morning to rest and adjust before sending Jes in to meet him."

There was the brief sound of footsteps and then silence descended; even the normal sounds of the aerie were muted. Aaron's body ached, but he still felt aroused. Massively aroused. The only time he'd felt this aroused before was the last time he'd been a wyvern and had been exposed to female pheromones.

Only then there'd been someone with the sample collection kit to relieve the stress. He bent his head to look at his hard cock, the motion causing his spine to pop and eliciting a pained gasp from him. His cock, now the long, tapered shaft of a wyvern, stuck out from his loins. Three ridges ringed it and rough-looking spines could be seen along its length. There was a bead of fluid visible on the end. Surprisingly, he could see what looked and smelled like semen already scattered across the floor; had he climaxed while changing?

If he had it hadn't been enough; despite the whole-body ache, he was desperate for relief and glad wyverns could bend far enough for him to put tongue to cock. He'd seen them do it when the female wyverns weren't in the mood for that kind of attention.

The touch of his tongue on his cock sent a shiver through his body, more precum forming at the tip as he became unpleasantly hard. He didn't even bother trying to hold back, instead taking his entire length into his newly formed snout. The feel of the spines on its underside catching against his tongue sent pleasured shivers through his body. Even the feel of his altered and much pointier teeth against his shaft contributed to the feelings.

Taking advantage of the length of his wyvern tongue, he used it to curl around and stroke his shaft in a crude approximation of what he might have done if he'd had hands.

It took only moments before he was shocked by the experience of salty cum filling his mouth. Relief and relaxation filled his body. He swallowed as he stretched out once more, his cock delivering the last of its load onto the straw covering the ground as he laid down.

The stall reeked of wyvern musk and semen and the scattered straw did little to disguise how cold and hard the floor was. Despite this, and despite the lingering ache, the afterglow of his climax and the exhaustion of the transformation was enough to lure him into sleep.

Aaron woke to the feel of the sun against his hide, warming and relaxing him. The sound of life in the aerie surrounded him, and it was relaxing to know that he wouldn't be a part of it today. The stall still reeked of wyvern, but it was his own scent and quickly faded into the background. He was still transformed, no surprise there, but felt far more relaxed now. The pain of the previous night had entirely vanished.

He heard footsteps and the scent of someone unfamiliar came to him. It surprised him to realize he could tell from her scent that his guest was a female human. He lifted his head; a woman was standing at the entry to his stall, dressed in riding leathers. His rider-to-be?

“Finally woke up, eh, sleepy-head?" She walked into the stall and crouched next to him. “They tell me your name is Aaron; a strange name for a wyvern. I'm going to be responsible for you for the next little while." She leaned in close, gripping his horns and whispering to him. “They say if I do well they'll make sure I get an egg of my own."

For a moment he wondered if the Flightmaster had let her in on the plan, but she answered that quickly enough.

“I don't know what the Flightmaster's up to, but if it gets me a wyvern of my own I'm not complaining. Benefit of being the oldest woman among the apprentices, I guess." Her words reminded him that he'd once heard the Aerial Corp. preferred to match riders with wyvern of the opposite sex; since most of the wyverns were female, that would explain the majority of male riders. Apparently, the wyverns bonded better that way.

She stood and sniffed the air. “Wasted no time settling in, did you? Well, you're the one who has to put up with the smell." She circled him, studying both him and the stall. “Lucky you getting this big stall all to yourself. Of course, it does look like you're a big boy. I bet you'll make the females happy. You don't seem to have any gear, though." As she finished speaking, she was staring at several wooden pegs set into the wall of the stall.

She circled back to the main entry to the stall and grabbed the shoulder of a boy running past, probably a first-year apprentice. “Hey, boy, find the Flightmaster and ask him about Aaron's gear."

“Yes, Jes." He said, head down. The Flightmaster wasn't normally responsible for gear, but wyverns didn't normally appear overnight, either.

For a moment they both watched the boy run off, then Jes returned to scratch the hide between his horns. It felt good, though her touch was definitely on the light side, and he pressed his head back against her hand.

A few minutes later Aaron spotted the Flightmaster running towards them, the boy trailing after.

“What's this I hear about not having gear?" he asked, panting, as he came to a stop.

“I came in this morning to start getting things ready," Jes told him, “but there was no gear for Aaron." She gestured towards the empty pegs on the wall.

The Flightmaster shook his head, then turned to the boy. “Boy, go find Gregory and bring him here." Returning his attention to Jes, he continued. “Gregory was supposed to make sure it was there by sunup. You're going to be late getting ready now. Not your fault, though."

Aaron had been casually listening and luxuriating in the knowledge that whatever problems might come up, they weren't his to deal with. It was nice to not be involved for once. But the reference to getting ready had perked his attention; getting ready for what? It wasn't like they could send him out on maneuvers. Not only was he completely untrained, but his being seen in the aerie was the point of him being transformed.

Another young man, this one closer to Jes in age, showed up out of breath, the boy trailing behind him. “Yes, Flightmaster?" Presumably, this was Gregory.

The Flightmaster gestured into Aaron's stall. “Where's the gear I told you to put there?"

“Ah," Gregory said, peering at the pegs in Aaron's stall. Not even being in a shadowy corner could conceal their conspicuous emptiness. “Well, sir..."

“Yes?" The Flightmaster looked down at Gregory, eyes narrowed.

“Well," Gregory, “I saw that this wyvern—Aaron?—was obviously a new acquisition. I didn't think it'd be needed yet and thought I could get my morning work finished before looking for spare gear, sir."

The Flightmaster sighed. “And what were my instructions?"

“To, ah, to have gear in place by sun-up?"

“So go find it. I will have a word with your master later."

“Yes sir," Gregory took off again at a run and the Flightmaster shook his head at the young man's retreating back. “At least it's just an ordinary problem," he muttered.

“Ordinary problem, sir?" Jes asked.

“Never mind that, just get ready to dress Aaron when Gregory brings the harness. He may not be trained, but I think you'll find Aaron both unusually cooperative and intelligent." The Flightmaster gave Aaron a meaningful glance. “He better be; the inspector will be here early and wants to see every beast not on approved maneuvers."

“Yes, sir." Jes returned to the shade of Aaron's stall, leaning against the wall as she waited for Gregory.

Aaron remained stretched out on the ground, but the relaxation had left him; he hadn't realized this plan would call for him to strut around in a harness. It was ridiculous and no one would know it was him, but the idea of being seen by everyone wearing what amounted to little more than a bunch of straps and a saddle was mortifying.

It didn't take long for Gregory to return with a wyvern harness. He laid this out on a bit of railing not far from where Aaron and Jes stood and, once this was done, the Flightmaster took Gregory by the shoulder and lead him off, out of sight. Meanwhile, Jes walked over and picked up the harness, staring at it.

“You know," she said, apparently to no one, “this'll be my first time putting a harness on an inexperienced wyvern. Always before it's been an older beast, one familiar with the process. Most of the time their rider has been present as well." She looked up at Aaron. “You better be as good as the Flightmaster claims you are." He tried not to show he understood her words and hoped the Flightmaster had picked her well. He was even less familiar with the harness than she was. Typically when he dealt with wyverns their riders had already removed it.

With that said, she walked towards him. Her hands moved quickly over the harness, undoing buckles and untangling straps. Once near him, she tossed it over his back. He could feel the long spine-guard settle between his wings, the straps attached to it slapping against his thankfully thick hide. With a quick motion, she locked a strap around his neck into place then began shifting the saddle around to get it properly into place.

Being collared drove home how he was being treated like a beast. Of course, that's what almost everyone thought he was, but that didn't make it any more pleasant.

His head turned to watch her as she walked around behind him, snapping another strap into place around his tail. It was enough to hold the harness in place, at least while they were calmly standing in the ground, but it wouldn't be safe to use the harness in flight until she'd finished securing it.

Then she ducked, crawling beneath him to grab the belly strap. Her body rubbing against his belly felt good and he could feel his body start to react. He looked away, trying not to think about her being there or what his body wanted to do in response.

“Heh," she said. “Enjoying yourself?" He grunted in reply; even if he could've spoken, his feelings were too mixed for a more articulate response.

She paused for a moment and he felt her hand give the exposed tip of his shaft a rub. “I'm sure it'll be less exciting once you've been through this a few times."

Her words made him pause; He'd taken comfort in knowing that, whatever happened, he'd be able to go back to his human life. Never had he thought about what it would be like if he was a wyvern for the rest of his life. Everyone had heard of the experiments that had lead to mages being banned from trying to turn people in wyverns even briefly. It was said it had been judged kinder for most of their subjects to remain as wyverns. At least, so far as he knew, the master mage had not been involved in that disaster. Or would it be better if he had been? It wasn't like anyone else would have experience turning people into wyverns and back.

All magic had a chance to fail or to malfunction. Only when he heard her words did it really sink in that every time he agreed to be turned into a wyvern there was a chance, however small, that the mage wouldn't be able to turn him back. Or that he'd get stuck in some horrific halfway state.

He was distracted from the gloom of his thoughts when he felt Jes' hand scratch his head. Without thinking about it he found himself pressing his head against her hand, his mood perking up.

“Alright," she said. “I think that's got it. The Flightmaster was certainly right; you're calmer than even the most placid of beasts I trained with. I can only imagine how today's training exercises will be. You may not have done them before, but now I'm sure you'll pick them up quickly."

He rubbed the side of his head against her chest. Even knowing that he was really human and wouldn't be a wyvern for long and that his performance didn't really matter, her praise still felt good.

“A boy should be along soon with our breakfast, then we can get started on doing training for the day."

And although his memory of what he ate last time he'd been turned into a wyvern was not the most appetizing, he still felt his stomach grumble at the thought of food.

After an uneventful breakfast, Jes led him outside to begin some training exercises. Other wyverns were in sight, but they ignored Aaron and he ignored them. At first, it looked as though she was leading him to the central area of the floating island they were on. It was a large, circular area marked off with brightly coloured posts and often used for gatherings.

Instead, Jes took him out to an empty area off to the side and began leading him through a series of very basic exercises. She started by just directing him to walk in circles with only spoken commands, then moved up to more complex, multi-part commands.

They finished this part of the day about the time the sun was directly overhead. She stopped giving him commands and walked up to him, scratching the top of his head.

“You may not be trained," she said. “But I swear you're the most intelligent wyvern I've ever encountered. It's almost like you can actually understand my words." She sighed. “Well, I think that's enough of that." She gestured towards a large water trough; a couple of young boys were using buckets to refill it from a stash of nearby barrels. “Go have a drink and rest up a bit. Then we'll move on to more complex exercises."

He gazed at her for a moment, only walking to the trough when she gestured towards it a second time. As he'd been doing pretty much the entire morning, he marvelled at how easy walking was, despite his forelimbs being wings rather than traditional legs. Sure they were sore, but just yesterday they'd been arms. He'd never gone around walking on them before.

He dipped his snout into the water, taking big gulps of it. The boys refilling it seemed tiny up close, but they showed not the slightest fear. But then, if they had even the slightest fear of wyverns, they wouldn't have been taken on by the aerie. They didn't seem upset by the way he was extending their task, either; perhaps some more onerous chore was lined up for afterwards.

Just as he was finishing quenching his thirst, another wyvern approached the trough. And, as she did, Aaron felt a thrill go through his body and his nostrils flared. The newcomer was both female and in season. Even before he became consciously aware of her, his body was responding, his shaft peeking out from between his legs. He plunged his snout back into the water, shaking his head to clear it. Her scent was much more subtle than what male wyverns were exposed to for semen sample collection, but it was all the more alluring for that.

It wasn't long before he had to raise his head for air. He felt her scent affecting him once more. Taking a step back from the trough, he ran the end of his snout over her flank.

She lifted her head briefly to look at him before returning to drinking, but she did not entirely ignore him. She lifted her tail, exposing herself to him.

He ran his snout along her hide as he turned his attention to her revealed sex, his eyes momentarily catching glimpse of the tattooed pattern on the back of her hips; a contraceptive spell that would prevent the aerie from being overrun with hungry wyvern hatchlings while also not preventing the wyverns from having sex. While it wasn't always convenient, regular sex helped the wyverns maintain a good, cooperative mood.

Then his snout reached the back of her thighs and slipped under her tail. Her scent was stronger, pushing all other thoughts out of his head. His tongue snaked out, tasting her and he saw her spread her legs at his touch.

A loud roar failed to shatter his mood; he glanced towards the source and saw another wyvern, a male wyvern, rearing up with wings flared out. His rival's cock was fully exposed and his rider was yelling at the displaying male and pulling on his harness to try and calm him down.

Aaron shifted his weight, preparing to make a similar display; there was no way he was going to let himself get chased off. Not when Aaron knew he was bigger and stronger and far more intelligent. No rival would be stealing his mate!

But before he could do so, he felt a tugging at his harness. He turned towards the source of the irritation to chase it off before confronting his rival, only to get a bucket of water to the face. He shook the water off, but it was enough to clear his mind.

“Come on," Jes said. “Time enough for that later, we have exercises to do." He allowed her to lead him away. Only as they moved away did he realize that, without the arrival of Jes, he would've fought the rival male had the rival not backed off. And if the rival male hadn't arrived, he wouldn't have hesitated to mount the female then and there.

His head hung low as Jes lead him away and he knew, if wyverns had been capable of it, he would have blushed.

“Ah, don't worry about it," Jes told him with a laugh. “She looked like she was in to you, I've no doubt she'll still be interested this evening."

Aaron glanced backwards; despite the other male's advances, his mate- He stopped mid-thought; she wasn't his mate. They weren't even the same species most of the time. Not to mention that she was an animal. But it was still uplifting to see her reject his rival's advances. She even glanced back towards him before being lead off to whatever she was doing for the day.

Then felt a jolt as Jes lifted herself back into the saddle on his back. “Come on boy," she said, leading him towards the edge of the platform, “we've got aerial exercises scheduled for this afternoon."

He wasn't sure whether to be happy for the distraction from the urges of his loins or concerned that the idea of mounting the female wyvern still seemed so appealing. He'd make sure she had only pleasant memories of their mating, he knew. He wasn't just some beast who'd take his pleasure and leave.

Only when Jes goaded him into going faster towards the edge of the floating island did the import of her words sink in. He didn't know how to fly!