Fated Scales: Dragon Climax
Fated Scales
A novel by Cheetahs(Aryn Storm)
Chapter Description: As his transformation into a feral dragoness begins, Alex is faced with the brutal reality of his dream as well as the potency of the pleasures contained within his still developing body.
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Chapter 6: Dragon Climax
It must have been a Saturday, for laughter came from downstairs. Because of it, Alex slept in mini naps. His eyes snapped open every time one such outburst occurred, his body jerking from the suddenness of it, driving his tail or wing stumps against the mattress of the bed. Pain shot through his muscles, raw and intense, the good will from the people downstairs nothing short of mockery to one in his state.
He shifted an arm over his ear, trying to muffle the occasional bursts of mirth, but no matter what he did, or how hard he tried to ignore them, the sound never failed to tear at his ears like the claws of a cat.
Doran's laughter was fine for the most part. Alex had grown accustomed to its soft yet resonant touch, the pleasant rumble soothing, almost pleasant. The real culprit and deal breaker was Jim's hoarse, grinding chuckle. Unlike Doran's silken tone, Jim's hit Alex like a sledge hammer, the half-opened door to his room doing little to muffle it.
Fuck. Why on earth did he leave that open?!
Gay fucking shit, piss shitting cunt. Every foul word in existence swirled through his mind, paused only by the dull pain on his right side. It flared to a sharp sting when Alex pushed himself up and swung out of the bed, temples pounding, vision cloudy.
He needed his sleep. In his transitional phase, sleep meant more than rest. It was blissful reprieve from his painful existence, the epitome of ignorance, and the only way he had at his disposal to truly forget about the current state of his body.
Alex grabbed the door handle, knuckles turning white from his powerful squeeze. He wanted nothing more than to slam it shut, to show those loud bastards that yes, as a matter of fact, they weren't the only ones inhabiting this villa.
The topic, however, gave him pause. They discussed about dragons. More specifically, Doran shared his future plans with Jim, as if he was his god damn lawyer or something!
"I'm not quite there yet," Doran said, his tone fading to a hushed whisper. Fortunately, Alex' keen ears picked it up, as if his voice had never dropped in volume. "Every successful transition is done with patience and understanding of the commitment one is about to undertake. Inviting other people into our lives, so soon after the transformation, is just not ideal. Alex needs time to adjust to his new body. I need some time to execute my plans."
Alex held his breath for a moment, stretching every ounce of his attention towards Doran's almost inaudible murmur.
"Alex is going through some hard times. His transformation puts a lot of strain on his body and even more so on his mind. He's in a...delicate state, to put it mildly," Doran explained to Jim, who scratched at his chin thoughtfully. Yes, if he focused hard enough, Alex' soon to be draconic ears could pick up all manner of sounds.
"Kid's as brave as they get," Jim said. "I don't know much about human to feral transformation, aside from them being classified, outlawed in most states of the country, and downright frowned upon."
"For now." Doran patted Jim on the shoulder, the faint thump unmistakable. "Give it time. Acceptance never comes easy to the human race. We have a history of bias, one that can be changed with the proper tools and mindset."
"Mmmmmm," Jim hummed, unconvinced. "Still wouldn't put my hand in the fire."
"I'm a dragon, Jim. Fire's nothing but warm air to me."
"So you say, but even The One Ring had a melting point."
Doran laughed softly. "Didn't take you for a book or movies person."
"I'm a lot of things, Doran. Your delivery man, your confidant, whatever else you need me to be."
Can you be gone as well? How about that, eh? Alex thought. We need you gone, you son of a bitch. Gone from this house, gone from our lives.
He hadn't signed up for this. Going through his transformation was hard enough, and now, Doran inadvertently invited Jim into their lives. Since when did Doran care about the courtesy of keeping someone around after their task was done?
"Since now," Alex muttered. Listening to Doran propose to Jim to stay around for beers and a game of pool set him on the brink of insanity. His emotional side pushed him to storm down those stairs, stride over to that geezer, seize him by the collar of his shirt and scream in his face to get the fuck out. His rational side, on the other hand, urged cautiousness. It wanted him to go to bed, pretend to sleep, as if nothing happened downstairs.
Cautiousness? More like cowardice.
"Yes yes, bring over the bottles. Don't pour it into glasses."
"You certain you can drink with that muzzle?"
"It's called a snout, Jim, and yes, it comes with lips that can do everything human lips can."
"Suit yourself. Now I can die peacefully, knowing that I had a beer with a dragon," Jim said, his footsteps carrying him somewhere under Alex' room.
"And what things would you say about this dragon?"
"Beg your pardon?"
Aha! That bastard was too much of a simpleton to understand Doran's innate depth. All it took were several questions like that, and Doran would send him on his way, for if there was a type of people Doran couldn't suffer, those had to be the fools.
"What would you say about me? If somebody brings it up in a conversation, is there anything you would tell them about me?
Jim took a swig of beer. "I would tell them that I met a dragon who had vibrant scales of whatever color I can think of and that we bla bla bla and this and that until they grow too bored to pursue that topic forward."
"You're a shrewd man, Jim. That's what I like about you. That's why I need you to play your part in this. Remember what we discussed earlier, about the world not being prepared for us yet."
"No need to say it twice, mate. Being ordered around is not a bad thing when you trust the one pulling the strings. I'll invent whatever stories you want me to invent, bring you whatever you need me to bring over, and so on," Jim said.
"Good. That's all I ask for," Doran said.
And, after that, the game began. Doran, his best friend and future mate, was having a wonderful time with a hobo he had probably picked up from the side of the road or wherever it was that opportunistic scum like him lived.
He didn't hate Jim. Hatred implied a deep emotional contact with that person. No, no, no. Alex despised little rats like him, never settling for the job they had been given, always searching for ways to climb the success ladder on the back of people like Doran. Sure, Doran was the last person that one could play, but how much of the old Doran remained within his scaled body, and how much of the new, vain, vulnerable dragon began to emerge? Unlike Alex, his transformation was almost complete, and everybody had a soft spot for showing off, especially dragons.
I have to do something, Alex decided. I have to remove that leech before it sucks Doran dry.
His knees buckled under the weight of his task. His three stumps throbbed with renewed vigor, reminding him of his deformed body. His heart pounded in his slender, stretched-out chest, and his hands remained unusually dry, the soft layers of scales keeping his hands from sweating like they normally did. To top it off, his fingers acquired a certain stiffness ever since they began to shrink. His pinkie was almost gone, his fourth finger stretching further to the side, his index and middle attempting to fuse into one single digit.
Alex merely glanced at the changes occurring with his body. More than that, and he would be overwhelmed with the scope of his transformation.
Losing my body, losing my mind, he thought, clutching at his temples, trying to recall the important task that he set off to do. His condition brought not only physical changes, but psychological ones too, such as short memory lapses.
Fortunately for Alex, Jim's coarse chuckle reminded him of his task, washing away Alex' moment of doubt, replacing it with a deep determination to see that man out of his house. He tossed a jacket over his tank top to cover his monstrous body, straightened his shoulders, took a deep breath, and exited into the corridor outside of his room, barefooted. His claws--for they couldn't be called nails anymore due to their size and shape--made wearing shoes, slippers, sandals, you freaking name it, impossible. And if he had somehow found a way to make it work, his deformed feet wouldn't fit in anyway, his skeleton adjusting to a quadrupedal form with three toed paws.
The knock knock knock of balls slamming against each other muffled Alex' descent, as did Doran and Jim's conversation. A peek through the bannister showed Jim resting against an arcade machine, while Doran circled the pool table, trying to find the best angle to make his shot.
Unlike Alex, Doran actually looked like a dragon, his physiognomy reflecting his reptilian heritage. He had an elegant, triangular head, with a low brow and a medium-length, slim snout. His jaws had that firm, gaunt look to them, the onyx color of his scales stirring Alex' envy. Why, how, and most importantly, when did he become such a...dragon? He saw him every day for the past weeks, and yet, it felt to Alex like this was the first time when he actually took notice of his developed features.
His scales had the pebbly texture specific to an adult dragon specimen, much harder and opaque compared to Alex' poor imitation of a dragon's hide. Two black horns jutted out the back of his skull, curving outwards in soft, most pleasant ways, tapering to a pointy tip. And the horns weren't the only thing that looked great about Doran! His eyes, just like in Alex' case, shifted colors, shining with a powerful azure intensity, cold and deep.
For his meeting with Jim, Doran wore a custom made tuxedo, tailored to fit around the growing appendages that acted as the frames of his still developing wings. They remained tucked to his back for now, making Doran's own sleep fitful. However, the bone was thick and sturdy, and fine scales dotted every inch of his wing frames, every single one of them developed to perfection.
The indigo color of the suit worked well in conjunction with his eyes, as did the cornflower blue tie and white shirt to contrast with his dark features. For an anthro, there was minimal change done to the limbs and hands. Doran's fingers simply turned slimmer, longer, graceful, ending with short, dark grey claws. His feet suffered the most significant metamorphosis, adapting to a digitigrade skeleton, similar to those of a dinosaur, only with four toes instead of three, and no dewclaw to inconvenience Doran.
How unfair, for his feet to already look more feral than Alex'. His tail shared the same fate, growing into a long, sinuous, beautiful thing that flicked back and forth, only the first few inches being off the mark. In two weeks or so, Doran would be a complete dragon, with wings, tail, roars, and everything else that came with the package.
And where would Alex be? He'd be in his room, sleeping up to sixteen hours a day, too fatigued to get out of the bed, too sore to come downstairs, too scared to even greet Jim, let alone discuss things with him face to face.
Alex grinded his teeth at that. What was this cowardice, freezing him in place? When did he become so hollow on the inside, so spineless and impotent, unable to stand up to strangers that weren't even part of his and Doran's life? Answers evaded him, so instead, he sat on top of the stairs, watching the game, listening to his best friend crack jokes Alex never heard before with a man he didn't know. Right then and there, he didn't feel angry or remorseful. More like...isolated, with only the hard wood beneath his rump to comfort him.
Doran used to comfort him. He would bring breakfast to Alex' bed, cheer him up, show him the occasional clips of dragons mating, asking him to stay strong and overcome this. That ceased to happen during this last week, and now, Doran had forgotten about Alex entirely, not even coming upstairs in person to tell him that Jim was here.
Instead, they threw a veritable party in the living room, with beer and cocktails, pool and arcade games, laughing and hitting balls against each other.
I pushed him away, Alex realized, the numerous instances in which he had refused to join Doran for a game or for a simple chat flooding his mind. He had been too tired, too indisposed to waste energy on such menial activities, and now, Doran sought the friendship of another, a person who provided him with everything Alex couldn't.
He bit back a groan. A crushing feeling of loneliness and despair washed over him. Instead of trying to withstand it, Alex felt like crying, an ugly reaction for an ugly man.
No. Not a man anymore. More like mandragon, future dragoness, or whatever the fuck this abominable creature with a stump for a tail, twisted limbs, tiny fingers, and a deformed head was. He didn't know what he was anymore, what he wanted, or how it all began. He didn't know anything anymore. Hormonal changes swept him through every mood in existence every moment of the day. Earlier, he despised Jim with every ounce of his being, and now, he actually felt grateful for the man's presence, so comforting to Doran.
Alex dug his face into his palms, trying his best not to cry.
Losing my body, losing my mind. Losing my body, losing my mind. Who am I? What am I? What do I know? Nothing nothing nothing, I don't know anything anymore.
"Alex? Is that you?"
Jim's sonorous voice caused Alex to jolt onto his feet, sniffling back the shock at being caught unawares.
"Oh, yeah, uhm, I uh--hi." He clambered down a few steps, revealing his twisted body inch by unnerving inch.
"Hello to you too. We're having a beer. Wanna join?"
"He totally does," Doran intervened, setting his hand on top of Jim's shoulder and leaning against him slightly, as if they were best buddies already. "How are you feeling buddy? Better? Or still a bit under the weather?"
Alex' eyes skipped to Doran, too afraid to hold Jim's gaze, but found no reassurance there. This chatty, flamboyant creature wasn't Doran. His friend never employed such crude language, nor did he lean on people like a...whatever these people were called. Leaners or something.
"I'm uh...better, yeah. Definitely improving. Was just coming downstairs for a bite."
"It's not ready yet. Still needs ten or so minutes on the stove." Doran passed his pool stick--Alex never got its name right--to Jim, signaling to him that the game was over, and stepped over to the base of the stairs, his expression unreadable like always.
"I invited Jim to stay over for lunch. Is that okay with you?"
"I'm grateful for the offer, but if the kid wants me to go, I'll go, but not before you tell me if you'd like something in particular for the next supply run."
Alex felt squashed under the weight of the multitude of things assaulting him from different fronts. Doran wanted to do what?! And Jim--he already had an excuse planned in case things took a weird turn. More so, his sensitive nose picked the sharp aroma of chili con carne, the scent of squashed oranges, the faint rustling of Jim's jacket as he began buttoning it.
"I'm a...I don't think it's a good idea to hold him here for too long."
"I think it's a great idea," Doran said with his unusually happy voice. "We get to hang around, befriend each other, revert to the normal side of things, for once. What with the transformation, we don't even get to see other people, do we?"
"But that's a good thing!" The words fled out of Alex' mouth faster than he could stop them. "I mean, we're at a delicate stage of our transformation, where we uhm...don't look the part."
Jim certainly agreed with it. The man couldn't keep his eyes on Alex for more than a fraction of a second without his lips twitching in feigned revulsion.
"Well then, I'm sorry my friend sees it this way. All the best to you, Jim, and see you next Saturday."
"Thanks for the beer," Jim said, shaking Doran's hand, then offering Alex the same courtesy.
He declined with a subtle shake of his head.
"Not a shaker, eh? That's fine. Until next time."
Alex watched him walk towards the door with bated breath, clenching his fists, tapping his claws against the floor due to nerves. Blessedly, the man left, allowing relief to wash over Alex at having solved this situation without throwing a tantrum or breaking down in front of everybody.
"I wish you played this one better," Doran said. His poise changed drastically, as if a commoner suddenly learned how to behave like royalty.
"I wish you didn't play at all. What the heck happened earlier?"
Doran pointed his snout at a sofa, only speaking when both of them sat. "I was exaggerating the effects of alcohol on an organism that undergoes a sophisticated metamorphosis. Jim involuntarily offered to be a test subject, and as a result, he probably believes that the bloodstream of dragons and other anthros assimilates alcohol faster," Doran said, reverting back to his old, scholarly self.
Alex blinked, and blinked, and blinked again. "I'm not...what the heck are you saying? Were you pretending to be drunk around Jim? What's...what is the point?"
Doran shrugged. "Not drunk. Tipsy. And there is no point. Or perhaps there is. Add one percent salt into the main dish," Doran said to his shirt's cuffs--or to whatever was underneath them--before settling his eyes once again on Alex. "I trust his judgment and promise to never speak of me to others. The same cannot be said about his human nature, so I'm feeding him certain behavioral patterns that cannot possibly be associated with me in case his mouth loosens. Trust no one, right?"
"I don't--I'm not following," Alex confessed.
Doran released an audible, drawn-out, patronizing sigh. "I'm a CTO. There are only two hundred sixty-three dragons registered for our state, and only five of which are onyx colored."
Alex raised his eyebrows. Or tried to. Something felt unusually stiff and wrong with his facial muscles. In the end, he simply asked, "And you count among them?"
"Soon, I will. Now, every magazine and news channel out there wants a story. If, by some miracle of chance, dear old Jim forgets about the promise he made me and starts to talk about his one meeting with an anthro dragon, I want to make sure he mentions a half-drunk, cheerful dragon that people are going to mistake for one certain Jacques Mautiff. This way, the focus shifts from me towards him. It's how the subconscious works, my dear. Don't look so surprised. It's not enough that I tell Jim something. He has to believe it on a much deeper level."
His worries seemed grossly exaggerated, but they made sense in that Doran type of way. Tabloids loved besmirching famous people, and although Doran took great precautions to ensure that Jim kept silent about this whole affair, there was no telling who might get to him later down the road, or how they would pressure him into divulging certain secrets about Doran. Powerful and imposing figures such as Doran attracted powerful enemies, after all, and the best way to deal with them was to maintain plausible deniability.
"Main dish, ready," a faint, feminine voice came from Doran's wrist.
"Quicker than I expected. Let's tuck into it shall we?"
Alex followed Doran into the kitchen, a cozy room with lights clad in colored, dragon-shaped paper dangling above the table. Doran signaled Alex to take a seat while he pulled two ceramic bowls from a drawer, using a ladle to fill them up with that delicious stew or whatever chilichon carne was. Its name escaped Alex, but the same couldn't be said about the savory scent wafting from the bowl Doran placed in front of him. It energized him, filled him with a good disposition, made him feel more of a person than he ever did this past week.
Doran picked a spoon from the rack positioned in the middle of the table, swirling it through his food. Alex tried to hook a spoon with a claw and failed, its clatter earning him Doran's skeptical gaze.
"If you can't eat with a spoon, I can switch your food over to a broader plate, so that you can eat it with your--"
"No thanks, I'm fine. I really am. I need the exercise."
"Suit yourself." Doran scooped up a few cubes of meat, directing the spoon towards his snout with maximum precision, his draconic tongue doing the rest, as if those long, pointy sharp fangs weren't even there to get in the way.
Alex, on the other hand, twisted and swirled the spoon in his grip in an attempt to get its handle lodged between thumb and palm. The more his hand dexterity lessened, the more incapable Alex felt, his teeth gritting to keep his annoyance in check. Eventually, he succeeded in holding his spoon like a handicapped person, nudging at his food, opening his mouth so wide a dentist would certainly be proud of him.
At least Doran had the courtesy not to laugh. If Alex could still sweat, his whole body would have been soaked with the liquid film of utter embarrassment. Every bite he took, each gulp of that delicious meal, fanned his irritation with his malformed body, getting him near the breaking point once again.
"You're doing great," Doran said all of a sudden. "You don't have to take my word for it. Even Jim said it earlier, praising your courage to go through such life changing event."
Alex scoffed. He wished the spicy tang of the food would sting as bad as it did during his human days, but that wasn't the case. To a dragon's mouth, hot food tasted like Nutella for humans, utterly orgasmic in every sense of the word.
Alex didn't want to feel good. He wanted to hurt, to be in pain, to focus on his raw tongue instead of dwelling on the various things that crossed through his mind.
"Does Jim sleep through most of the day, wakes up in the middle of the night with stiff limbs, throbbing tail, and sore soon to be horns, and then goes back to sleep because dreaming is the only way to cope with this shit? Does he shuffle from one end of the room to the other like the good hunchbacked fella that he is, afraid to lie still, lest the vertigo swallows him? Or maybe he doesn't get up at all. Maybe he just lies in bed all day, hungry and thirsty, on the verge of throwing up or pooping, but eventually does neither because they both take effort--energy--that he doesn't have?"
He said all that while tapping his spoon idly against the bottom of the bowl, watching the bits of meat and beans dance through the not too thick, but not too thin gravy.
"Alex, I know you're in pain. Jim cannot know this, for Jim is a human, like the rest of them. He's not like us. He is never going to be like us, because he lacks the bravery to go through with it."
"Oh yeah?" Alex lifted his gaze from the bowl to look at Doran. "He said that to you? He mentioned that to his new skype bestie who he's on a phone call with all the freaking time? Or are you playing him the same way you play me? Oh wait, you actually are, because you admitted it a moment ago."
Doran didn't answer right away. He first finished his meal, then set his bowl aside, wiped his snout with a napkin in that methodical manner of his, and laid his hands on the table. "Or maybe you're not brave. Maybe you're just a coward, blaming others for your inability to cope with the choices you willingly made. Regardless of what you are, you're my mate, and I'm here for you."
That touched Alex deeper than he expected. His whole frame shook, as if struck by a lightning bolt, the epiphany clearing the skies of his darkened mind.
"I'm...I'm sorry. That was uncalled for. That's not--it's not how I am, Doran," Alex said with a vehement shake of his head. "It's the transformation. I have these...these mood swings that are overpowering. I can't control them, and they fuck with my perception big time. It's always white or black, but never grey or something in between. Go figure..."
Doran smiled. He lounged back in his chair, took in a deep breath, and let it out in a deliberate manner. "Willpower. That's what it takes. Willpower, determination, and hope. Don't you think that my transformation is an easy one. I have a tail, and I have these." He pointed a finger at his developing wings. "I'm going through the same trial on an easier difficulty, but I'm no stranger to pain. I just don't bring it up all the time because it's not necessary. That's all."
Alex settled his food aside as well and leaned forward, his appetite all but gone. "How do you do it? How can you fight this?"
"You don't. You just accept it as a necessity. Pain is necessary. Suffering is necessary. Without them, you'd be Alex the human, and not Alyreth the dragoness. Dessert?"
"No thanks, I'm good," Alex mumbled under his breath, still mulling over Doran's words. It seemed like the obvious answer. The logical one, where the outcome justified the means. But Alex wasn't Doran. He lacked fortitude, charm, and his determination to see this to completion wavered with every passing day, not to mention those nagging thoughts at the back of his head, urging him to reconsider his choice.
They had become sweeter, more alluring, enough for Alex to consider them every now and then. And why shouldn't he? Maybe this transformation wasn't the best course of actions for him. There was always a chance for a complication or two to make themselves known, not to mention the pain. Every fiber of Alex' body felt strained, pulled from one too many ends, his pain coming and going in the most erratic of patterns.
He opened his mouth, almost ready to voice his concerns, but Doran beat him to it.
"You're stressed," Doran said, looking through the fridge, but finding nothing that matched his current preference. "And dessert isn't going to cut it. Not for you, and definitely not for me. Let's do something different, shall we? Something that will remind you of the good old days, before they are cast into the void."
Cryptic much? A wave of fatigue washed over Alex, turning his limbs lethargic and his mind numb to the possibilities. He didn't feel like talking, or walking, or doing anything else aside from sleeping.
"Like what?" He said with half a voice, making Doran tilt his head and throw him an icy gaze.
"The sauna. The pool. Us two."
Prickles rushed through Alex' skin, hide, or whatever covered his body right now. The sauna was the last place where he wanted to be. The steam made him choke, and too much time spent in the hot water softened his scales, turning them frail and prone to fall off his skin.
"Mutual masturbation."
That struck a chord. Alex perked his head, the promise of sexual relief too tempting for one who hadn't shot his seed in more than three weeks. Besides, he couldn't say no. Icy claws seized his spine upon reminiscing Doran's dialogue with Jim. His friend and future mate said that it was an elaborate game to protect his image, but what if that wasn't the case? What if he began to open himself to the man, seeking solace in the company of somebody who said yes to his propositions for a change?
"I...That's tempting. Very tempting. Why don't you uh...go there first? I'll be right behind you."
"I'm not falling for this one. Has something to do with me knowing you far too well," Doran said, casually plucking away the buttons of his tux. "You have until I'm naked to make your decision, otherwise the opportunity to shoot your pent-up seed will forever be denied to you."
Agh, the pressure! Each pop of a button, every motion of Doran's fingers, added to the urgency of Alex' decision. He felt trapped between a rock and a hard place. On one hand, he had to endure physical discomfort for the sake of his friend. On the other hand, he could go with the safe approach, the comforting one, so familiar to Alex it began to call to him like a veritable succubus.
You're exhausted. You need sleep. Sleep helps you forget. Dreams carry you far from this realm of pain.
Pain is necessary.
You don't want to suffer. You want everything to end, to return back to normal, where you had full control of your body.
Without pain, you'd be Alex the human, and not Alyreth the dragoness.
You're not a dragoness, but a freak. A lumbering monstrosity that is going to get worse, and worse, all for the sake of a man you have distrusted your entire life.
Regardless of what you are, you're my mate, and I'm here for you.
Alex scrunched his eyes shut, attempting to wrestle both of his sides into submission, but failing in quite the spectacular fashion. In the end, panic got the better of him, Doran's almost naked form coaxing a response that surprised Alex as well.
"I'm in. Just gimme a...moment so that I can uh...get rid of my clothes."
"Alright, but get the door for me after I'm done. I don't want my clothes to stink of food."
Alex nodded, but didn't get off his seat right away. Doran only had his pants left, crumpled halfway to his knees, the rest of his clothes neatly folded and piled atop his chair. Onyx colored scales of various sizes and shapes lined Doran's lithe form, accentuating the soft curves of his pecks, abdomen, arms and thighs. As an anthro, his muscles retained their shape, more or less, some of them shifting in favor of a more draconic look, like his calves.
Although he only noticed Doran's genital slit in passing, the sight still put a rosy tinge into Alex' cheeks. That was definitely one of those sights you had to get accustomed to, and Alex fell right into that category. No matter how hard he tried to wrap his mind around it, the slit resembled that of a dragoness, inadvertently making Doran a flat chested woman until proven otherwise.
"Don't worry. You'll get your own slit pretty soon," Doran said.
Shit. He must've noticed the smirk tugging at the corners of Alex' mouth.
"I'm not--I wasn't staring."
"You can stare, you can touch, you can even fit a finger inside to make sure my cock is still there. In fact, I am counting on this," Doran said as he slid out of his pants one foot at a time with impressive dexterity. He grabbed them then, plying them, settling them on top of his other clothes. "This past week showed me the vast advantages a slit holds over the usual package. First, there's the elegant look, its shape barely distinguishable from the rest of the crotch. The lack of balls is compensated by the numerous nerve endings within the flesh itself, so I benefit from renewed sensitivity without the vulnerability a scrotum inherently possesses. To put it in simpler terms for you, it's like having a vagina until you get an erection. It's quite awesome."
He winked at Alex, motioning towards the door. "Let's get into the living room. Now that you've seen me, it's my turn to see you."
Right. As if Alex had something to show but misplaced muscles, deformed bones, jutting formations. An ugly body for an ugly man.
Still, he got the door for Doran, who settled on the sofa, tail curled over his lap as he stared at Alex expectantly.
"Tell me more about your slit. It...helps," Alex said, stretching a hand forward to keep Doran from getting up. He didn't require nor wanted Doran's help to get undressed, and felt relieved when he settled back onto the sofa.
"Perverted as always." Doran chuckled, leaning onto his side, placing a pillow in front of his belly to cover his privates from Alex' inquisitive gaze. "One would think that the allure of flight, your keen senses, or the ability to run on your fours faster than any human can are what one would get excited about, but not you."
"Maybe. Then again, you're my mate, and I expect you to answer my question."
Doran flicked his tail tip to showcase his indifference with Alex' request and began recounting his sexual experiences while Alex struggled to get out of his human clothes.
"First of all, the slit is a very sensitive thing. The deeper you get, the more lubricated it becomes. Because of that permanent but unnoticeable lubrication, you can push a dildo into your opening and trigger erections on demand. No pornographic furry art or clips of dragons mating needed. A few inches of tight latex, and you'll have that burning cumming sensation. The first time I tried it, I came inside my slit. Yes, that is an actual possibility."
Doran began to shift on the sofa. His eyes shifted towards the pillow, locking on it, as if he considered keeping it or tossing it aside. For some reason, he did the latter, giving Alex a glimpse of his smooth, fleshy, tapered cock.
The sides of his slit stretched further the bigger Doran grew, revealing more of that glossy flesh, so smooth and uncharacteristic for a male. His cock, at first glance, might have looked alien-ish, but Alex had seen too many dragon shafts in his life to know better. Tapered, orca inspired penises had always been one of Doran's passion, and now, he had one of his own, with only minor differences. Unlike sea mammals, his member wasn't fully prehensile. Only the first few inches of his tip could move around, the rest of his thickening meat trading mobility for rigidity, much preferred for steadier thrusts.
Alex' spit stuck in his throat. His arms froze, his shirt pulled halfway up, remaining like that for several seconds of thick, awkward silence. It wasn't the first time Alex saw Doran fully erect, but now, something within him craved for that tapered appendage. His blood heated more than it usually did, surging through his muscles, converging upon his shaft, stirring it to life.
"Dragons have quite the libido," Doran said, avoiding grabbing his member. "The only downside is that masturbating with your bare hand is a huge no. Everything is extra sensitive, and having the scales of your palm grind against your most vulnerable bits is a bad idea. Penetrable toys, however, are fantastic. Take this how you may, but I haven't lasted longer than a minute inside one. I can do it with proper self-control, but there is something special in surrendering yourself to your carnal pleasures. Are you sure you don't need help with your pants?"
Just this once, Alex relinquished his pride, allowing Doran to help him out. "If I could put them up and take them down easily, I wouldn't have requested your mutual masturbation services."
"I'm glad you did," Doran said, eying Alex' male equipment as he helped him step out of his pants. "You have to learn to say yes. Part of the reason behind your fickle mood is because of lethargy. Doing nothing gives you time to think, and time to think translates into gloomy thoughts and mumbling about how much your wings and tail hurt."
"Did it happen to you?" Alex asked, stepping away from Doran. Now that they were both fully naked, it felt odd to stay too close to one another, what with their erections and all.
"My mind wanted to rebel, certainly, but I am in control of it, so I ordered it to stay the fuck put." Doran paused to inspect Alex' body, a routine check-up that was meant to reveal possible flaws with his transformation. Having Doran scrutinize every inch of his body raised Alex' embarrassment to alarming levels. He felt trapped, unable to move, unable to speak, and more than anything, he felt self-conscious about his deformed features.
His chest sunk between his prominent ribs. His thin, elongated torso and shortening arms looked like something out of a horror movie, even more so than his stunted legs and feet that began to adjust to a digitigrade anatomy.
His cock and shrunken balls, however, were the worst. Pebbly scales dotted their surface, coloring them a light gray, his foreskin too tight against the overly sensitive meat trapped within it. His pouch lost its wrinkles, becoming smooth and shiny and excessively small before the crotch that threatened to swallow it, along with his cock. Signs of his forming slit could already be seen, and soon enough, he'd be left with nothing but a cleft between his legs.
"Notice anything?" Alex asked, his voice shaky.
"Aside from your erection, nothing unusual."
Was that a jest or cause for concern? Either way, Alex nodded in that dumb, ignorant way people did when they feigned acknowledgment. "So uhm, what's going to happen next? With my body, I mean?"
Doran clasped his hands and took a step back, his gaze unyielding. "You have about a month left until you're a full-fledged dragoness. Within a couple of days, your member will be gone for good, replaced by the cleft that you can notice if you look hard enough. Your thumbs will withdraw into your paws, leaving you with three slightly mobile toes. At this point, you will find yourself unable to maintain an upright position for long, so it's recommended that you walk on your fours. Next up, your developing tongue is going to make speaking difficult, as will the changes to your vocal chords. Blurred speech isn't the end of the world, however, as you'll still be able to use body language to transmit your desired messages. Your wings and tail...."
Doran's words faded progressively as Alex' mind grew distant. Changes over changes over changes, every single step stripping away the little humanity that he had left. His hands would turn into paws. His cock would retract and fade away into a pussy. His voice would falter, his legs would crumble, and eventually, he would walk on all fours, growling and hissing and squeaking like a veritable animal.
I want this. It's what I signed up for, Alex tried to convince himself, yet this logic felt frail before the storm of words Doran blew his way.
"I understand. One month, and I'll be a dragon, just like you."
"Excited?"
Alex tried to smile, but it came out shaky and wry. "It's what we both want, right?"
"I could hug you and tell you how proud I am that you've come so far, but instead, I'll cordially invite you to join me in the sauna for something much better and intimate than a plain embrace. Follow me, mate."
A fire ignited within Alex' breast upon hearing that word. It bore a motivational touch--magical even--empowering and full of positivity. For a moment, Alex felt like floating an inch above the ground, unbound by his vicious anxiety, free to enjoy the little pleasures the world had to offer.
He followed Doran to the back of the living room and into a small corridor that led into the sauna adjacent to the villa. It was a different building altogether, linked to the villa, bearing the size of a small house in itself. It might not have looked like much on the outside, but the lavish interior took Alex' breath away.
"You really should come here more often. It's as much a sauna as it is a recreational place."
No shit. This didn't look like any sauna Alex had seen so far. More like a replica of a hot spring, with water trickling down a miniature mountain and pooling in the pond occupying the middle of the room. Slabs of stone flanked it, fulfilling the role of benches, and several other boulders acted like makeshift chairs. To add to the authentic experience, Doran employed the same holo tech used at the facility where they began their transformation, giving the whole sauna a realistic impression of a hot spring situated deep within the mountains.
"The ground truly is uneven. You can climb the mountain, shuffle through the grass, do whatever you feel like doing."
Alex looked up at the cloudy sky. "Some say the sky's the limit, but that's not always the case."
"Yep. Your limit would be twenty-four feet, in that case. Didn't want the sauna to be bigger than the villa itself. It raises questions."
"That kind of ruins the immersion, doesn't it?"
"The immersion is right in front of you." Doran nodded at the pond, the water within it shimmering with the vibrant hues cast by the artificial sky. "The water level and temperature can be adjusted via voice commands. If you want to relax in a pool, you can just lie back and enjoy it. If Jacuzzi is your preference, that can be fixed as well."
After his pep talk, Doran walked towards the pond. An outline of small boulders framed it, small reeds jutting out from the narrow crevices spreading between them. They brushed against Doran's legs as he stepped onto the first step of the ladder that led into the makeshift pool, each additional step sinking his body further into the crystalline waters.
By the time he was fully in, the water reached up to his chest, distorting his scaled body as he waded towards the opposite end. For a moment, Alex wondered if he'd be able to bathe here as a fully feral dragoness. His shorter than his usual human legs wouldn't be able to scratch the bottom, so he would have to swim. But how did dragons swim, exactly? They had wings and tail to manage, in addition to the usual four limbs.
"Something on your mind?" Doran asked, splashing water in Alex' direction, the droplets pelting his sensitive hide, stinging and itching upon impact.
"Grrah," Alex grunted, thrusting a condemning finger at Doran. "Never do that again. It feels weirder than you imagine."
"I'll do it again, unless you share your pressing thoughts with me. Better yet, get into the pool first, and then we'll have all the time in the world to get friendly with each other."
His proposition disarmed Alex. His crotch tensed up, his balls stiffening, an electrifying spark dispersing through his flaccid cock. He wanted pleasure; so much, he forgot his train of thought as he stepped into the pool. Lukewarm water embraced his still developing scales, the temperature just right.
"Easy, buddy," Doran said, planting his hands on the edges of the pool, ready to push himself up and assist Alex.
"This is anything but easy," Alex admitted. The stone steps felt slippery and slimy to his malformed toes. His unnatural height, coupled with his shortening arms, made a wade through the pool an experience that Alex wouldn't wish inflicted upon his worst enemies, assuming he even had such nefarious people in his life. The water might have been still, but his frame wobbled and lurched, his long toe claws being Alex' only saving grace, using them to scratch and grope at the muddy bottom.
"Wha--" his voice trailed off as the water turned from a pleasant transparent blue into a brown, stale mess. "I just...why couldn't you simply go with a normal floor?"
"Dull." Doran sprawled his developing wings along the boulders lining the edge of the pool and sucked in a deep breath. "This one feels cushy and nice to your feet. It's also more authentic, full of therapeutic properties, and also perfect for mud fights."
"Mud fights." Alex repeated, testing out that thought. Why not? The scales of a dragon were easy to clean. All they required was water and a hose. "You don't strike me as the type."
"Currently, yes. I'm still twenty percent human, so the thought of having mud stick to my hide still harbors a repulsive touch. Once the transformation is complete, however, we'll be that much more, Alex. We are going to have to learn to invite a different perception into our minds, that of a dragon. And, to dragons, mud can and is going to be fun. I have my sources."
"Why don't you tell me about these 'sources'?"
"What's there to tell?" Doran brushed him off in the most predictable and infuriating of ways.
In return, Alex shook his head when Doran offered him a helping hand. Settling in a comfortable position beside his friend was something he had to do on his own, and it was as tedious as everything else. Due to his half human half feral skeleton, his center of balance shifted, making crouching a real chore. It took Alex several failed attempts to accept Doran's help, allowing his arms to guide Alex down in such way that he put no pressure on his tail and wing stumps. Sitting on the side, his arm pressed against the wall of the pool and his feet placed next to Doran's, wasn't Alex' definition of fun or intimate, but lately, it seemed that compromising became his only way to lead a normal life, for lack of a better word.
"Is everything to your satisfaction?" Doran had an arm splayed over the edge of the pool, his claws rapping against a boulder, those azure eyes bearing into Alex. Although he retained his usual hardness, a flicker of...something caught Alex' attention. Perhaps it was his pupils, shrinking and dilating in the most subtle of ways, reacting to the changes in the light's intesity. Or maybe he imagined it. Either way, for the briefest of moments, Doran seemed content for the first time in his life, truly pleased with how a situation turned out.
"Uhm, yes, I'm satisfied. The mud is starting to settle, my hide doesn't itch as if a gorram rash grew over it, and I'm feeling...positive."
On seconds thought, positive was a bit of an exaggeration, but it made Doran smile, which infected Alex as well. They both chuckled, probably for different reasons, yet it felt magical all the same.
"That's how it'll be after the transformation is complete. No more pain. We'll be able to sleep however we like, wherever we like. Our greatest concerns will be about which game to play, what food to eat, which spot of your beautiful body I should lick or rub or caress."
"Beautiful body? I look like the aborted child of a world of Warcraft abomination who mated with undead Sapphiron. My face looks like I suffer from the derpy jaw syndrome, I can't do shit with my arms because of how short they are, or because my torso is too damn long. One of the two. So please, don't be that sort of guy Doran. You lower your IQ with every word you utter."
Doran tilted his head to the right, his pupils thinning into veritable lines. "I made you blush, haven't I? Mission accomplished."
"Mission accomplished my scaly ass. All you did was remind me of what ugly son of a bitch I am."
"Ugly is a state of mind. To me, the human body is inherently ugly. It never attracted me, no matter how hard I tried to convince myself. But seeing you like this, ugly as you put it, stirs my blood more than our lewd Roleplaying games ever did."
Alex chuckled, patting Doran on the shoulder. "Hey, I don't judge. Seen people fapping to worse things than me. Your fetishes are safe with me."
"This has nothing to do with it. You see yourself for what you are at this very moment, whereas I prefer to envision the possibilities."
"Like, fucking me in my scaly-but-not-quite ass?"
Doran let out a growl of exasperation that sounded unnervingly draconic to Alex. "No. Boring! All I'm trying to say is that, unlike the simpleton that you are, I prefer to think things on the long term."
Then, out of the blue, he splashed water all over Alex, who gasped--or growled, or whatever that hoarse, inhuman sound could be called.
"It's good to see your old self emerge. Kept that guy locked in the basement of your mind for far too long."
"Yeah, well, not all of us have your fortitude and strong mind. It's one thing for you to grow scales, wings, and a tail, and another for me to evolve into a hunchbacked monstrosity little by little. It saps the spirit..."
Doran fell silent as well, so Alex relished the opportunity to stare at the rippling water, allowing its serenity to become a part of him.
"I haven't yet told you about my masturbation sessions after my penis metamorphosed into my current one."
"You said enough," Alex muttered, blood rushing to his cheeks and member. Regardless of the reason he ended up in this pool with Doran, Alex wanted to enjoy this moment of peace instead of making things awkward.
"Not quite. You may have read millions of words worth of furry literature, but fantasy and experiencing things firsthand are two very different things."
Whenever Doran had a story to tell, he would shift, scratch the back of his ear, stretch his shoulders, and adopt a veritable orator's poise. He did that now, his enthusiasm with this particular topic almost comical.
"Unlike humans, the orgasm feels quite different to dragons."
"Let me guess. It's more drawn-out and intense."
Doran lifted a hand in front of Alex to silence him. "You're not wrong. Just misinformed. You see, although the pleasure levels fluctuate depending on a myriad of variables, the orgasm of a dragon is always, always, extremely intense. As a human, your tired body may reduce that final burst of pleasure. Other times, your focus fizzles and that perfect picture you held within your mind vanishes, leaving you painfully aware that yes, in fact, you cum in your hand, and not inside a dragoness."
"So? Get to the point already." This talk of sex made Alex uncomfortable. Mutual masturbation may have sounded fun. Getting much needed sexual relief was still one of Alex' top priorities. But for crying out loud, he never expected to feel so self-conscious, so out of place!
"For dragons, pleasure is just a means to achieve an end, which is ejaculation itself. For them, mating is not only a leisure activity that you dabble in, but an urge, deeply ingrained in their instincts, one that drives them to propagate the species. As a result, the orgasm is not only lasting longer. It is THAT much more intense, the quantities of seed ejaculated through each spurt carefully controlled to deliver the biggest punch."
"I...don't get it." Alex' cheeks flushed under the layer of gray scales. His senses tingled, this sensitive topic making his balls churn and his cock to grow, caressed by Doran's lewd words.
"You will in just a moment. For now, be a good lad and just listen."
"Fine, I'm listening," Alex said, fighting the urge to shift, afraid that he might hit his tail bump in the process.
"When you cum as a dragon, everything feels...connected. Every muscle, every nerve, every cell in your body reacts to it, working together in giving you the best definition of the word euphoric. It's almost like writing poetry, where every word counts, where every choice matters. And, above all, in cannot be described in mere words. It must be felt. It must be experienced, for such an orgasm to be understood."
The more Doran blabbered about his epic draconic orgasms, the more skeptical Alex grew. He wasn't certain whether Doran was messing with him by trying to be pretentious or if he simply employed metaphors in order to better describe something even he didn't quite understand. Either way, at this point, Alex was too afraid, and much too hard, to interrupt him.
"Oh, Alex..." Doran paused, shifting closer to Alex so that he could wrap an arm around his shoulders. Their thighs brushed against each other, the subtle touch causing Alex' painfully erect member to throb slightly.
"Things will be very, very different when you will finally become a female. Only then will you begin to understand what I mean with all this. Right now, your human shell is much too shallow, and far too primitive, to grasp all these little things that add up to something great. Take the pressure exerted upon a dragon's member. The tightness of a cunt doesn't do much to humans, but to me, it actually controls the frequency and intensity of the spurts, as well as the quantity of seed ejaculated. Some claim this is a product of evolution, meant to increase the impregnation chances when mating a virgin female. Others say it helps the female achieve orgasm, so that the ripples of her inner muscles can carry the seed into her womb. Fascinating creature, dragons."
Alex nodded dumbly. He still couldn't think of anything to say, his rational side swept aside by the pent-up lust that began welling within the base of his member. His temples throbbed, and his hide seemed to simmer in spite of the cooler water of the pool.
"This chatter got you all worked up, hadn't it?"
Before Alex had the chance to reply, Doran dipped a hand through the water's surface, directed at Alex' groin.
He didn't even have time to react. Before he knew it, blissful pressure encased his rock-hard shaft, forcing him to snarl and hiss like a dragoness in heat.
"That was the point, Alex. To get this groundhog to show its shadow. To let you experience one last climax as a male. If your body is kind to you, maybe it even makes this exciting by treating your cock like that of a dragon one. Let's see here..."
"Hnngh!" Alex groaned as Doran pulled back his foreskin slowly, deliberately, keeping his fingers loose in order to keep the pressure exerted upon Alex' cock to a minimum. Two weeks of no touch left him particularly sensitive, even more so when his cock underwent changes of its own.
His glans smoothed out, leaving his cock thick, with a blunt head, beribboned with thin veins that webbed throughout the light gray, pebbly skin covering his tight, vulnerable flesh. Unlike Doran's tapered, prehensile member, Alex' size and thickness remained consistent from tip to base, and every inch seemed infinitely more responsive to Doran's touch.
Alex screwed his eyes shut, moaning through gritted teeth, sinking all of his available claws into the muddy bed of the pond, as if to withstand the terrible pleasure that threatened to wash him away. Only a few seconds passed. Alex knew that, for the breath he held in his chest didn't irritate him yet. And yet, it might as well have been minutes, because he already felt stretched thin, the burning pleasure pooled at the base of his member clawing for release.
As if to add salt to the wound, Doran only rolled his foreskin down halfway to his member, taking his sweet time in uncovering his fleshy, throbbing baton. For some reason, Alex' cock retained its tightness, yet his foreskin shrunk, resulting in an infuriating tightness that felt unbearably pleasant to Alex' senses. The sensation overwhelmed him, forcing his teeth to gnaw against each other in futile attempt to keep from exploding right then and there.
"Almost there. Aaaalmost there." Doran's hushed voice sailed past Alex' ears, the soon to be dragoness hard at work resisting the urge to cum. He could almost picture that overly tight, pebbly foreskin drag along his length, the tingles of pleasure left in its wake pricking at Alex' exposed flesh.
When Doran finally uncovered his full manhood, Alex gasped. His legs sprawled in different directions, toes curling inwards. Pained, sporadic moans burst out of his tightly clamped muzzle, and soft spasms seized his balls, forcing them to empty their contents.
Alex squeezed his eyes shut so tight, stars speckled his vision. He couldn't see the generous spurts of seed that he shot with every powerful throb. Instead, he felt them, his imagination painting all sorts of vivid images based on how each wave of scalding seed clawed its way out of his shaft to burst out into the still, blue pond.
"Ghh....kha....gggraaaaaaaaaah..." Alex managed to cry out using his last breath. His lungs burned with the need for extra air, but Alex could do naught but squeeze his jaws tight and ride this euphoric tide. It must have been the two weeks of no release that left their toll, for Alex never experienced such intense, exhausting orgasm before, where every lance of seed shook his body, where every throb of his cock sapped his strength, bringing him closer and closer on the verge of passing out.
Then, all of a sudden Doran released his cock, the fading pressure allowing Alex to suck in the mother of all breaths, coughing and panting and still cumming, much to his shock.
"What....the bloody hell....is happening to me?" He fought to utter the question, each word demanding, draining, strenuous.
"Dragon climax. I'd tell you to sit back and enjoy, but given your current position, that's a piss poor recommendation. If I let go of you, chances are you'd drown, so in a manner of speaking, I got you."
Alex unraveled. His being seemed to disperse, little by little, fading off into nothingness. Doran was right. His strong arms, latched around his torso, were the only things that kept Alex from plunging into the water and sink to the bottom.
When it finally ended, Alex' head spun and his vision swam.
"Breathe. Just breathe through your nostrils, exhale through your mouth."
Alex followed Doran's guidance. Sure enough, life returned into his old, battered husk, allowing him to think again, in spite of the shivers that shook every inch of his being. He didn't know what was worse. A prolonged, alien, blackout-inducing orgasm, or Doran's laughter.
"Just...just get me to a bed. I can't...I can't do this. I feel like I'm on the verge of...passing out."
"That's what usually happens after you cum half a liter's worth of seed through a cock that has the sensitivity of a human clitoris. I should have mentioned the risks, but there are times where you just have to experience something in order to attain enlightenment."
"Fuck...you....Doran," Alex mumbled. His legs felt like they were made of jelly, and a fierce dizziness struck him. To top it off, he had to fend off nausea and cling to Doran's body as they took baby steps towards the stairs that led out of the pool.
If that was how a dragon orgasm felt, then Alex preferred to die than experience it again.
** ***End of Chapter 6*****
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