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DISCLAIMERS AND STUFF:

Still nothing explicitly sexual yet, but there are nuances of father/son love and much foot fetish material to be found here, so if you are not interested in either, please stop reading now! You have been warned!

My Modern Bahamut

By Furio

7/16/2009

Chapter 2 - Feet First

It was smooth and rounded, with only the slightest ruptures in texture, resembling a beautiful unexplored planet.

I only saw a corner of it. I tried to move to see all of it, but all I could see was the corner, like I was watching this through a camera focused directly on that part of what I thought was a globe. A green, gleaming globe. A globe that was beginning to shake.

I heard a faint noise, like moaning or humming. Then a soft *tap* sound that repeated itself. *tap tap* More humming and moaning. Louder this time. *tap tap tap* Then another! Hard banging now! *Tap! Tap! Tap!* The globe moved wildly, rocking back and forth, until....

CRACK!!!

Something burst out of the globe, breaking open a hole in the surface, revealing a thick, fat appendage, and an unceremonious noise of a crying lizard or dragon. It didn't take me long to realize that this appendage was, what else, a foot. A green baby dragon's left foot, at that.

So it wasn't a globe at all....it was an egg.

The foot moved around wildly, and I watched as my view suddenly changed to the ground, where the foot fell onto, the rest of the egg apparently cracking or shattering into nonexistence. The crying continued for a few seconds as the foot kicked and thrashed wildly, but then the owner calmed down, and the foot stopped moving. It rested quietly on the ground, on its side. It moved up slowly, then settled down again, then strained to move up again, as if forcing the rest of its body upward.

"I....was....born."

I heard a voice and wanted to look around for it, but found I couldn't change my view from the foot, like my head was locked in place. The voice sounded extremely young, as if the baby dragon itself was talking. I watched in interest as the foot suddenly managed to right itself, standing with some difficulty on its own, its toeclaws pointing to the right, giving me a perfect profile view of its shape.

Then, it began to grow.

I heard the slightest stretching sound as I saw the length of the foot increase, the baby fat slowly reconstituting itself into stretched reptilian skin. The heel moved back as the toeclaws moved forward, and the foot gently tapped on the ground. Now it looked like a child's foot.

"I grew...I developed."

The voice now sounded a bit older, a bit more refined than just baby talk. The foot lifted and pressed down on the ground gently, the toeclaws gently moving by themselves as they grew a bit longer and more prominent. I felt a pain in my own feet watching this slow transformation. A sudden CRACK set my teeth as I watched the toeclaws suddenly splay out, as in pain, and then slowly relax again as the foot extended and stretched even more in length and breadth. The ankle bone became more visible as the bones seemed to grow within the foot at an alarming rate. The foot now seemed to belong to an adolescent that was rapidly growing into adulthood.

"Much of my life...has been...painful. Hiding. Running. My feet tire of running. My body has changed...I have changed."

The voice deepened as it spoke. The foot grew larger and more muscular, its length far greater now and its form becoming extraordinarily familiar. The green tone of skin, the silver claws...it resembled...it was...

It was HIS foot.

My own feet felt like they were exploding painfully from within as I watched his foot twitch and move in a very subtle fashion, the skin seeming to bubble up from within as it continued to stretch and contort.

"It's been so long...I have been longing for so many things...so empty...I...I won't live forever."

Those last words hung in the air as I watched the skin slowly begin to wrinkle, then shrivel up. The foot and its owner were both growing older, and it was beginning to frighten me. I felt an urge to look away...I didn't want to see where all this was going to head.

"Nathan...please....I won't live forever..."

The voice was becoming very hoarse and frail. He was growing extremely old by now. The foot's skin was sagging, and starting to shake. The claws dulled their once brilliant sheen, becoming grey and gnarled. It was extremely painful to see. So painful, that I felt a lesser pain in my foot that was simply excruciating.

"Please....Nathan........s-save ...me...."

The foot suddenly spasmed and keeled over, now completely lifeless.

"DAD!!!" I screamed, bolting upwards. My legs were shaking rapidly, and I felt horrible pains in my feet. The images of the rapidly aging foot were still alive in my brain, and all I could think about was my father. My dad...dying? Both parents....gone?

I couldn't stop hyperventilating. I hadn't had a nightmare like that in years, especially one that made me hurt all over. "Oh dad..." I mumbled, feeling my snout shake as tears began to dim my eyes. I became aware of a rapid stomping in the hall, and suddenly, there was my dad, clad in his huge blue boxers, filling up the doorway.

"Nathan?! What's wrong? What is it??!"

I looked at my dad. He was right there. A dragon older than I was, but not aged. Alive.

"Dad," I mumbled again, still shaking. "Dad...are...are you alright?"

My dad seemed surprised at the fact that 'I' was asking that question. "Nathan, for the third time, I'm more worried about YOU! What's wrong?"

Suddenly I felt the pain of everything in the past week hit me. Losing mom, my sudden interest in feet, the overwhelming interest in my father, and possibly even my growing pains. I shut my eyes tight. "Oh dad," I whispered, feeling ashamed at the fact that I felt like crying.

I suddenly felt my dad's stomping footsteps grow closer, and strange, surprising sensation: a large appendage wrapping around my shoulders and pulling me to a large, warm body. "It's okay," I heard in my ear. "It's okay...daddy's here. It's alright."

Dad really was there. He wasn't dead, and as far as I knew, he wasn't dying. I never felt more in need of my father then at that moment. I wrapped my arms around him, as he gently scratched my back with his foreclaws. I must have looked stupid, a sixteen year old like me acting like I was four. "I'm...I'm sorry, dad. That was...that was kinda childish of me."

"What's wrong? Take a deep breath and tell me," asked my father again, more gently now. Perhaps I had calmed down enough to the point that dad could be more relaxed with me. Or maybe dad did that for me. I really wonder.

I inhaled deeply and exhaled through my nostrils. "I...I had a bad dream. I'm sorry...it was just...it got me worried," I mumbled. And then I added, "...about you."

I turned to look into my dad's yellow eyes, which carried that same odd sense of concern and interest. "Why are you so worried about me? I'm...I'm fine." His momentary stutter seemed to throw him off, though.

I looked long at my dad. "Are you really? What about...mom?"

My dad turned away. I momentarily feared that I had renewed troubles that we were trying to get away from. "It's...been difficult...but I'm trying. Just...just please don't worry about me, okay? We...we have to learn to move on, son."

Somehow I sensed that it wasn't mom's death that was bothering my dad, but something beyond that. "Dad...are you dying?"

My dad suddenly glared at me. "What? Where did THAT come from?"

I swallowed, feeling my face heat up again. "I don't know...I'm just...worried, I guess. I don't want you going away. I don't....I don't want to be alone, dad."

Dad's facial expression softened at those words. "I don't know what's gonna happen tomorrow, kid...but I don't plan on dying anytime soon. I can tell you that."

It was at that moment that he seemed to realize how close we were getting. He still had his arm around my shoulders, and his snout was rather close to mine. He let go and backed away slowly, probably realizing how embarrassing this looked. What freaked me out more, though, was how disappointed I suddenly felt.

That was replaced with a sharp twinge of pain in my left foot, and I let out an "Owww, dammit!"

"What's wrong, Nath---oh..." said my dad, looking at my feet.

I followed my dad's gaze and was suddenly struck with amazement, moreso than pain.

I noticed at first that my right foot was somehow bigger than my left foot. The claws seemed to end at higher point than those on my left foot ended, but not for long. Bones and muscle popped and cracked under my skin as my four toes splayed, scrunched together, then splayed again, as I and my father watched my left foot grow to match my right foot. I growled and moaned in pain, but couldn't take my eyes off the amazing transformation that was occurring.

"The Quickening..." My father barely whispered the word, as if saying it out loud would have killed someone he loved.

"Y-yeah, I guess so," I said, my heart still beating rapidly at the energy it took to transform even a single part of my body. "Damn, do my feet hurt..."

"Yes," whispered my father, still looking at my feet. I noticed that my dad was doing that, but his gaze went back to my face. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I think so...sorry, dad."

He smiled. "Nothin' to be sorry about, kid. It's a painful thing to go through, and...and I'll help you through it...I mean, if that's okay with you."

I couldn't help but smile back. "Thanks, dad. Sorry I woke you up."

My dad nodded, tusseled my smooth head, and said, "Good night, son." He walked back towards the door, and I watched his huge tail move gently side to side as it trailed behind him.

I was just settling myself back in bed with my back and wings to the door when I heard a faint, "Nathan?"

"Yeah?" I said without turning around.

"You're...you're all I have left."

I suddenly turned around and looked at my father, who was standing in the doorway, facing the hall, but head turned around just enough to cast one yellow eye on me. He had one foreclaw on the upper side of the doorway, giving him a pose that looked like it belonged in some kind of glamour shot or something.

"What?" I asked, not sure where he was going with this.

My dad didn't respond, but kept looking at me. "Sorry...I...I don't know why I said that. Good night."

He lowered his foreclaw and walked back to his bedroom, vanishing from my sight.

I didn't turn back to face the wall. I kept looking at the doorway, hoping he would come back and say something else.

After about a minute of nothing happening, I settled back on the bed, took one of my pillows and held it to my chest.

"Dad," I whispered, not sure of what to follow with that. Why was I so disappointed in him letting go of me? Why was I feeling a need for him? Why was I dreaming about him?

Something was happening to me. Something strange, incredible, frightening, and absolutely beautiful. But I wouldn't know it was beautiful until much, much later.

I moved my now larger footpaws against each other, thinking about my father's feet as I fell back to sleep.

The next few days were shockingly routine. Dad and I didn't talk about my nightmare again, though he did ask me repeatedly if I slept alright. As much as it hurt not to have mom around anymore to make our lives more colorful, we found that we were slipping into a routine of get up, have breakfast and boring conversation, go to school, come back, have dinner, homework and bedtime. No more dreams or changes, with the only irritating thing being my lack of good balance while walking. Given my larger feet and differing proportion to the rest of my body, I found it hard to walk or even stand in most cases.

I do remember that about two weeks later, in gym class, I spent a good deal of my break time on the bleachers looking at my larger feet, and exploring them. The skin around them was not like my scales, which were much harder, metallic, and shiny. Rather, my feet were like natural reptilian skin, except much smoother and taut with muscle. Each one of my toes was thicker as well, thicker than even the digits on my foreclaws.

The soles of my feet were different, too. No longer were they a uniform green, but they were getting paler, almost growing into a yellow. The skin on the balls and heels of my feet was getting tougher, too. Not as pliant as the tops of my feet. Still unlike my father's feet.

My father's feet...It suddenly dawned on me on that particular day that I hadn't even yet taken the time to truly LOOK at them. Maybe...maybe if I looked at them more carefully, I would get a better idea of what MY feet would look like when they finally finished developing? After all, I assumed that my feet, along with the rest of my body, had much growing to do. I set both feet down on the lower bleacher and wiggled my toes again, smirking a bit at how they looked.

Yes, I even smiled and laughed. I surprised myself. Puberty for a dragon hurt, but damn, it was pretty funny and even a bit exciting!

My reverie was broken by a fit of more uncomfortable laughing that I heard to the left of me. I furrowed my brow as I recognized what it was: the dumb, idiotic, teasing laughter of jocks. I looked to the left and saw what I feared true. A bunch of lizards and two huge dragons, obviously seniors, were standing over a seated bear, and obviously making fun of him.

That's when I realized how cruel such a species could be to another...since dragons and lizards had an accelerated rate of growth, they could be much larger than other species and poke fun at them, even if they were of the same age. It pissed me off to no end to see such creatures take far too much advantage of their own natural characteristics. Or maybe I was pissed because of another hormonal surge; I don't know.

I managed to catch snatches of the conversation/teasing:

"What the hell were you doing on the court, fuzz-face? You couldn't catch a fuggin' ball in those stubby paws of yours!"

"Yeah, probably couldn't", mumbled the bear, who looked away from the eight-foot tall dragon standing in front of him and sneering.

"Maybe he's a fagot!" laughed one really ugly lizard, already breaking out from his pubescent changes. "Ev'rybody knows those freaks can't play sports for shit!"

"Sure he can! Just bounce the ball of that fat belly and he can be goalie!" The other dragon prodded him in his gut annoyingly. What pained and surprised me to see was how the bear just looked at him quietly and took it all without the slightest reaction.

The growing chorus of name-calling and teasing was getting so juvenile, it pissed me off to no extent. I got up to move closer and finally tell them off, but thanks to the combined difficulties of moving around in bleachers and moving with disproportionate footpaws, I stumbled and fell head over heels onto the lower bleachers, nearly breaking my wings in the process. This obviously diverted the bullies attention onto ME, which, given how things are now, may have been for the best.

"Dude, look at that fuggin' lizard's feet!" The speaker was one of the dragons who could clearly see that I was one, and still called me a lizard, so this remark hurt REAL bad.

I rubbed the back of my head and felt wetness. Great, I tore at the scales and was already bleeding, which would take forever to heal on a dragon. I decided to fight with logic first, the one thing most bullies lacked. "So? Happened to you, too!" I yelled back, still wincing in pain.

"Like hell it did," sneered the dragon again. "I changed COMPLETELY overnight, so I don't have to look as dumb as you!"

If I hadn't been in so much pain, I probably would have started a fight right then and there, but blessingly, the bull coach came over, shouting, "We got a problem over here?"

The dragon towering over me turned to face him, but didn't blink. "No, sir," he said flatly. I half worried that the dragon was one of these truly psychotic bullies who wasn't even phased by authority figures. It certainly seemed that way.

The coach nodded and snorted once. "Get out there. You're up next. Nathan, Jeremy, you're up after them."

I got up and nodded, rather pissed that the coach hadn't bothered to say "You alright?" or anything of the sort. Justice never seemed to exist in high school, even when I made an effort to fight for it. I sighed and looked over to my left. The bear had moved a bit further down the bleachers, possibly to escape the chaos and possibility of getting punished for roughhousing. I walked towards him, taking more care in my steps this time.

This time the bear looked towards me, with a bit of fear. At first I felt angry that he didn't thank me for possibly saving him from more embarrassment and possibly injury, but then I realized the ugly truth. I was a dragon, too.

"It's okay," I said. "I'm not like those feebs. Sorry you had to see that."

The bear nodded. "I'm the one who's sorry for being a coward."

I folded my arms and thought a bit. "Nah, there's a difference between being cowardly and escaping a situation that could get you in an even worse predicament." I smirked a bit at my fluent use of English. A lot from dad rubbed off on me.

I looked down at the bear and noticed he was staring at my feet. I looked down at my large footpaws, then back up at the bear. It was then that I realized we were sizing each other up.

Or maybe...we were checking each other out?

I swallowed nervously. I still hadn't come to terms with the possibility of me being gay, and didn't want to think about it. Hell, I didn't want to think about sex, for fear that it might turn my life chaotic. I was already having screwed-up feelings about my own father, for Pete's Dragon's sake.

The bear was nice looking. I could already tell he was going through some changes himself, as his belly was larger than most younger bears I had known, and his arms and legs were aptly thick, or at least in the process of growing thicker. He also had very large, rounded footpaws, typical of all ursines. When he looked back into my eyes though, I nearly fell over the bleachers again.

He had my father's eyes.

They were yellow, warm, and, while they weren't catlike, they still conveyed a depth that I hadn't noticed in anybody but my father. Truly stunning.

"What..." I began, but then remembered. "You...your name's Jeremy, right?"

The bear nodded. "And you're...Nathan?"

I nodded, my arms still folded to maintain some air of security in this situation. But then I stuck out a foreclaw, he stuck out his paw, and we clasped together.

The feeling was absolutely electric.

We let go almost instantly, and I could see the bear shaking. It was clear he was very very nervous, but I could sense a lot of kindness in him. After all, he had shown a good deal of steadfastness in front of those bullies.

"It's...nice to meet you, Jeremy," I said. "You a sophomore, too?"

The bear nodded. "Yeah. I think we have the same literature and history classes. I just was afraid to talk to you because-"

"I'm a dragon. I know. We look very daunting, but as you can see," I looked down at my footpaws. "I'm kind of a freak."

"Yeah," said the bear, still looking at my feet. "You go through different changes than we mammals go through, don't you?"

"That's what those classes are saying," I said. "I think my feet changed a week or so ago, and it's hard to walk around in."

"Be glad it's just your feet," said the bear. He put a paw on his growing gut. "I'm eating more and more these days, and getting fatter than ever. Mom says it's normal for me, but it's still hard to bear the jokes..." He looked down at his gut and lifted it with his paws. "I HATE it. I hate this damn belly!"

I looked long at it, wondering why it wasn't so unappealing to me. "I think it's nice," I said.

The bear looked up sharply, those yellow eyes big and wide.

"AH! I mean, I mean..." I started, then changed tactics. "What...what does your dad think about it? I mean, he's got to be a big bear, doesn't he?"

The bear's eyes went half shut again, and the face registered an expression that, coupled with the eyes, was all too familiar with me. It was the face of dad after mom died. That meant...

"Oh damn...oh no, I'm sorry...I'm really really sorry," I said, feeling my face grow hot again.

The bear gave a small sad smile and shook his head. "It's alright. It was a year or so ago...I...I've gotten over it." He said all of this quietly, making me wonder if it was the truth. "I do wonder, though...I saw pictures of him...and...and he had a big belly. Nice and big," he said wistfully.

I looked at the bear, who seemed to be staring off into space, but not sadly. Something about this creature was resonating with me, and I couldn't place it. "You alright?" I asked.

The bear looked at me again and laughed a bit. "Yeah, sorry...I just...I get like that when I think about him."

I nodded. "I lost my mom a few weeks ago."

The bear's eyes widened again. "Oh no! I'm so sorry!"

I held up my foreclaw. "Don't be. It's hard, but...but I think I'm strong. I'll get through it somehow. And I still have a few friends and...my dad. And he's...he's very good to me."

"Is he now?" asked Jeremy with what seemed like interest.

"Yeah," I said, now feeling like the wistful one. "I'm sorry...I..." I looked up at Jeremy to see those same warm eyes staring back at me.

"You two! On the field! Now!"

The bull's voice woke us up out of our reveries. We righted ourselves and walked over the bleachers carefully. At the same time, I spoke.

"Listen, you may not be good at sports, but with these damned feet, I'm going to fall down every few seconds. Those bullies are going to have a field day with us, so why don't we just run from them and stick together for a while?"

"I'd like that," said Jeremy. "I was hoping we'd lunch together or maybe do something sometime soon."

"I'd like that, too, Jeremy. Thanks."

The bear smiled at me as he got ready on the field to hustle. "No, thank YOU."

And thank those bullies for introducing someone to me who would truly turn my life around.

I came back to the house that day actually feeling better than usual for once. Even dad could tell it as he laid a couple of steaks on my plate. "You look bright-eyed and scaly-tailed," he said flatly, which only accented the silliness of the moment.

I nodded. "Made a new friend today. Cool bear named Jeremy. We might go out together sometime." I nearly choked on my drink as I realized what I was saying. "I mean...you know, out to a movie...or something. You know."

Dad was unfazed. "Good to hear you're making friends. You don't have enough these days."

"What about Tracy?"

"Oh, she's a sweet girl," dad said. "Too bad she's not a dragon, but she's really sweet."

I grimaced. Dad wasn't a big fan of interspecies relationships, but I couldn't blame him. Most ones that produced children often produced deformed hybrids or children with painful disabilities. Still, I understood his interest in Tracy. "Yeah, I like her, too."

My father paused as he was about to pour the drinks. I looked up at him. Did I say something that bothered him?

"Nathan," he started quietly.

"Yeah, dad?"

"Don't....I mean...be careful."

I was nonplussed. "Um...of what?"

"Of...of anything, okay?"

I set my fork and knife down. "I'm not gonna have sex with her, dad. I don't want to have a kid at this age."

"I didn't mean-" started my father, but then he said, "Okay, yeah, that's good."

I looked at my father a bit, still feeling confused, but then dove into my steak, so glad that my dad kept them nearly raw. He and I had the same tastes. Too bad that mom preferred hers more well-done.

"O-ow!" said my dad suddenly, moving oddly in his chair.

"What's wrong, dad?"

"Sorry," he said, lifting up one leg and crossing his other with it. "I stepped on something at work today and I think it dug into my foot." He picked at something on his foot with his claws. "It's times like this I wish they made friggin' coverings for our footpaws or something."

I swallowed my portion, forcing myself to look down at my plate. I could feel something warm inside me start to grow. I forced more meat into my mouth and drank almost feverishly. Not now. Not now. Not now!!!!

"Hey, kid, slow down. You're gonna choke yourself!"

I slowed down my chewing and swallowed hard, breathing fast. I looked up to see my dad still with his legs crossed, his large, mighty foot blocked from my sight with the table. Still, I could practically see it in my eye. The image from my dream was still burned into my brain.

"Sorry," I mumbled as I took more of my drink. My father uncrossed his legs and I relaxed again. But on his face was a look of seriousness. "You've been scaring me a bit lately, son, and I don't want you doing or trying anything that's going to hurt you, do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir," I said succinctly. My dad was never in the military, but there were times when he felt like a common Armed Forces dragon, and I took him as such. He could be very dominant if he wanted to.

We finished our dinner silently and cleaned up our things. Dad went up to his bedroom again for a far-too early sleep, and I went to my room. Another routine, boring night.

One that was about to get very extraordinary.

I couldn't sleep. I tried. I know I did.

I think I was afraid. Another Quickening, another nightmare, another rushing in of my dad to hold me like a baby again. I didn't want to sleep. I wanted to do anything else, anything that seemed better.

But the thought from earlier that day came back to me. I had never truly looked at my father's feet before. And since I saw that painting of Bahamut next to our family photo, I truly wondered if he had a similar structure to the god's feet.

I sat up in my bed. Could I? I mean, would it be possible?

I turned to look at the doorway. I could barely hear the rhythmic motor of my dad's snoring in the next room.

I lifted the sheets, slowly swung my legs over the edge of the bed, planting my large feet on the ground. I took slow, gentle steps, my feet causing the slightest creak in certain areas of the floor below me. I was walking through the doorway. The way I was walking, I felt like a ghost, floating through halls of forgotten memories, towards a place I had longed to call home. It was truly a surreal experience.

In fact, I stopped in the hall and gently scratched the smoother side of my muzzle with my claw. It hurt. No, no nightmare this time. I breathed quietly and deeply.

I turned around the corner of the next door over to peek inside. There was my dad, lying under the sheets, with only his head, arms, and glorious feet sticking out from underneath. It was still September, so things were adequately cool, requiring a decent amount of warmth during the night.

I crept slowly towards my dad, feeling afraid and excited at the same time. I had no idea what I was doing. It was as if my very feet were controlling me, and I had lost control of my own. I looked down at them. The toeclaws wiggled slowly, as if they were shrugging and saying "What?" I looked back up.

My dad was sound asleep, snoring softly. Dad always had a gentle snore, one that always seemed more comforting than annoying. Every now and then he would grunt and spasm, but it was just the unique way my dad slept. I didn't mind.

I moved quietly to the foot of the bed. I looked long at my dad, regarding his sleeping form. My eyes moved downward.

The feet.

They were right there. Right in front of me. They were MINE. My heart was thumping wildly in my chest as I watched the two beautiful appendages gently move with his occasional spasms. It was truly beautiful.

They were positioned upright, with the heels on the bed and the toeclaws pointed upward, the soles facing me. They seemed to glow gently in the darkness of the room, the soles a more yellowish-green color then the gentle green of his body.

I knelt down. One would think that, in such a position, I was beginning to worship my father's feet as the online article deemed appropriate, but I just wanted to get more comfortable, and get a closer look.

My father's feet.

I rolled the idea around and around in my mind. I just couldn't wrap my brain around it. Why was I doing this? Why were my father's FEET so damned hypnotic to me? WHY?

I reached out with one foreclaw, moving it closer and closer to my father's right foot. The pad of my thumb moved closer, closer to the sole...closer to the ball of his foot, of his primary toeclaw. Until finally,

...it touched.

I let go slowly, listening to my father snoring continually. To my knowledge, he hadn't woken up. That is, unless he was feigning sleep, which was doubtful.

I pressed my thumb to the ball of his foot again. I grew braver and pressed the thumb-pad of my other foreclaw to his foot.

The texture was incredible. It was like mine, but tougher, like the surface of a tire. It was only slightly malleable, like hard rubber. But the scent....the SCENT!!!

I took a deep sniff with my snout and drew my head back in surprise. There was the slightest hint of musk from my father's feet. And it was JUST RIGHT. It wasn't overpowering enough to be blocking my ability to breathe. Rather, it was like the fleeting smell of chocolate or pine or any scent that has the power to stimulate your brain into remembering the most intimate memories. And one came flooding back to me.

I remembered being a hatchling and still crawling around on all fours, dazed and confused at so many different surroundings, until I bumped into something huge and heavy. It was my father's foot. Big, muscular, and tapping slowly. I looked up to see my giant dragon of a father towering over me, godlike. He had his arms folded, and a silly no-nonsense expression on his face that got me laughing. And then he laughed, too, reached down, and picked me up in his arms.

I remembered. He swung me around, even tossed me in the air, catching me again, spinning me around like I was a toy airplane, testing out my tiny wings. I had no sense of danger or fear; I enjoyed every minute of it. And when it was all over, dad wrapped his arms and wings around me and enfolded me close to his warm chest, where I fell asleep to the lullaby rhythm of his huge draconic heart.

I touched my claw to my face again to make sure I wasn't dreaming and was surprised to feel wetness. I looked at my claw. Not blood. Tears.

I looked again at my father's feet in front of me. The shape; it was incredible. The foot was rounded and curved perfectly and softly, the same way that so many men prefer their women to be curved. I could even see the curve of the ball of the foot as it protruded towards me, like a perfectly spherical bulge on the planar landscape of my dad's plantigrade foot.

Even the separate toes were curved just right...About an inch and a half thick across, and an inch in circumference. Each one of them was thick, full, and absolutely fucking adorable.

My claws slowly traced the outline of my dad's foot. I felt an urge to memorize these feet, to know them deeply and intimately. My claws gently *tinked* against the almost metallic luster of my dad's toe-claws, and they spasmed.

I drew back my foreclaw rapidly as my dad snorted a bit between snores, then rolled over, pulling his feet sharply into the blankets and away from my sight. Show over.

I sighed with a bit of sadness, but was grateful to have a long look and touch at my dad's feet. I stood up and moved to the other side of the bed, where I could get a better view of my dad's face.

My dad slept with his arms under the pillows, pushing them upwards to his face, as if to pressure himself into feeling something soft against him. I looked again and noticed he still slept closer to one side of the bed; his side. He still thought mom was there.

I took a deep breath and felt pain come back to me. But this time, I was looking at my dad, not myself in a mirror or any of my things in my room. I noticed that my father slept with a rather serious expression. A frown, and arched eyebrows that looked like he was sleeping in pain.

Pain. Pain of being alone.

It was then that something snapped inside me. Something that forced me to realize exactly how selfish I was being these past few weeks. I had been thinking only about myself and feeling sorry for myself about my mother's death, and whenever I thought about my dad, I tried to push those feelings away and deny that they were there.

And not the crazy physical desires. No, I had pushed aside the desire to simply hug my father, to take care of him, to heal him.

I looked long at my father's face. He was doing so much for me, so much to keep this family together. There was so much love he was trying to give, and so much that I was denying. I never felt more ashamed in my life.

My father was truly an incredible, strong creature.

I leaned closer to him. I could see the painful, almost scared expression on his face, even with closed eyes. I saw no tears, but worried that some might show at any moment.

What to do? What to do? What COULD I do? I opened my snout to think of something to say, to do...anything...

"Daddy," I whispered. No reaction. Dad continued to snore. I decided then that I wouldn't wake him.

"I..." I swallowed nervously. Everything in my heart, body, and soul was screaming at me. I closed my eyes.

"I love you."

I moved closer and pressed my snout to his forehead, giving him a gentle, warm kiss.

I expected the snoring to stop. My dad's eyes would fly open, he would look at me and burst into tears, and he'd throw his arms around me and the credits and music roll would begin. Or, perhaps he'd scream at me and tell the crazy incestual fagot to get out of his house and never come back.

Amazingly, he kept snoring.

For some reason, I felt slightly disappointed. My expectations were not met, but maybe...maybe it was for the better.

I raised my head and moved silently again to the other side of the bed and out the door. I looked behind me to make sure my dad was still asleep. The rhythm of the snoring was constant. Again, he snorted twice and spasmed a bit, this time one foot poking out from the covers. I turned though, not daring to touch that sacred foot again this time.

I crept back to my room, moved towards my bed, and pulled the covers over me again, as if nothing had ever happened.

In that moment, just before falling asleep, I felt extraordinarily lonely.

To be continued...in Chapter 3

Post-note: What do you think? I hope it's good enough. In case you're wondering, the full story is actually complete, and I'm just posting chapters every so often, depending on the number of comments and interested readers that I get! Feel free to comment, criticize, or ask questions, as I could always use more lessons on how to improve my writing! Much love and thanks to all my readers and watchers! *huge hugs!*