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Prince Bertram stamped his booted foot impatiently and looked over the side of the plateau. There was no one on the path that led up to the him and beyond was the castle, his castle, or what should be his castle off in the distance, its polished walls and towers nearly glowing under the freshly risen sun. He frowned at the sight of the castle and brought up his hand, squinting through his fingers before clutching at the castle that at this distance looked so small and attainable, but would never be his. Not really, not truly. At least, not without the aid of a force other than the powers of politics and outright familicide. He just needed that force to show up.

Bertram's frown deepened and he stamped his foot again as he turned away from the castle, only to find himself face to face with a feline that bore a smile as big as a lion's but bore the spots of a cheetah. Or, really, he looked up to the humanoid feline that loomed over him even if he was thinner and far more slender than Bertram and seemingly insubstantial as if he was merely a mirage.

The prince yelped and jumped back, but the feline stayed still, or relatively still, only his whiskers twitching slightly as he held a feathered cap in one hand while the other hand was dug deep into his pocket. Bertram quickly regained his composure, standing tall and regal as a prince should as he stared at the feline in fine clothes that could only be from another land, especially those dark dyed leather boots that seemed too large for the cat. Though Bertram covered up his unease by maintaining a neutral expression, he was thrown off both by the feline's sudden unusual appearance and his appearance that was unusual. The prince couldn't help but frown as the striped feline stared back and he noticed that there was something off. Hadn't the feline had spots instead of stripes only moments ago? He let out a short breath and forced a smile.

"You're late," he said.

"Am I?" The feline tilted his head, ears twitching seemingly in amusement. "The sun says I'm early."

"The sun doesn't speak," Bertram snorted.

"No," the feline shook his head, before placing his feathered cap on his head so that it covered one of his ears. "I suppose it doesn't."

"You're late because you kept me waiting," Bertram said, folding his arms over his chest. "Didn't my contact inform you that I am royalty."

"Oh, I know," the feline said, fumbling in his pocket for something. "It's why I came. Royals are my favorite types of clients."

"Why do you mean by that?" Bertram growled.

"Exactly what I said," the feline replied, executing a short bow. "It is a pleasure to serve you, prince."

"Prince," Bertram said, spitting the word out. "I should be king."

"Oh?" the feline queried, tail swishing behind him curiously.

"Yes..." Bertram growled, turning his head to look at the gleaming, distant castle. "That should be mine." He spread his arms out. "This should all be mine! But..." He grit his teeth together. "It won't be merely because I was born later." He turned back to the feline. "Can you believe that? My rightful fate denied because I'm the eighth son."

"How terrible," the feline replied, his tone droll but his eyes gleaming. He idly twirled his whiskers.

"It is!" Bertram yelled. "I'm...I'm confined to obscurity! So many brothers that I'll never be king, so many brothers that women ignore me for them because of their power, not their withered looks." He scowled. "I am the most handsome, the smartest, the most intriguing of them all, and yet...they pay me no heed! I'm a prince and yet my fame is bound by those that don't deserve it! The people only know me as the eighth and that is it. Even some breeding gryphon is more well known than I. I have...I have...well, I've tried to get my rightfully deserved attention and yet they still pay me no heed!"

"So terrible," the feline purred. "All that wealth, all that comfort, and yet you are denied the sweetest comfort of all while your subjects starve."

"Are you mocking me, beast?" Bertram hissed. "If there's one thing that does get attention, it's my enemies."

"Oh, no, no, no!" the feline said, stepping back and raising his paws up. "I would never mock a royal. I know my position. My position is to serve."

"Yes," Bertram said with a nod. "Precisely. And you are here to serve me. You are..." He peered at the feline who looked to him with curious eyes. "Here to grant my wish, right?"

"Yes," the feline replied. "If you so desire."

"Of course that's what I desire!" Bertram said.

"But what do you desire?" the feline asked, stepping forward, his stride strangely short. "Do you know?"

"Of course I know!" Bertram sneered. "I...I..." he frowned and rubbed at his chin. "I want the attention I deserve. I want my people to see me for what I really am."

"And what is that?" the feline purred.

"Important!" Bertram said. "Attractive. Regal." He narrowed his eyes at the feline. "It shouldn't be too difficult, right? You are only making sure they see me as I really am."

"Oh." The feline paused and then pulled his hand out of his pocket. He held out something in his paw and Bertram leaned forward to see it was a piece of parchment written in in a spidery script. The prince blinked when he saw that the feline held a quill in the other hand.

"What's this?" Bertram asked, squinting his eyes as he tried to read the parchment. It seemed to shift even as his gaze traced over its letters.

"A contract," the feline said. "Necessary nowadays. So many untrustworthy individuals who will gladly take but never give anything back. So sad, don't you agree?"

"And what do you intend to take?" Bertram asked, pulling his gaze back to the feline and his wide grin.

"Take?" The feline laughed. "Nothing! I will only give you what you want and all I ask is one favor."

"And what is that?" Bertram asked, suddenly suspicious.

"For you?" The feline's smile widened. "A signature."

"A signature?" Bertram narrowed his eyes at the feline. "That's it? Surely you want something more. What is it you're really after?"

"No more than a signature," the feline said. "You are right after all, dear prince."

"About what?" Bertram snarled.

"Your significance," the feline replied, still smiling. "You are a king, and I cannot take from a king. You deserve to be what you really are. You must rise as you are meant to."

"Yes..." Bertram murmured, a similar smile creeping over his face. "Yes, you are right. I am a king. I will be king ... if you can truly grant my wish."

"Oh I can," the feline said, dipping his head. "All you have to do is sign."

Bertram looked back to the parchment and felt elation rise up from within. He took the quill and looked over the contract. Who cared if he could hardly read what was written out--the feline seemed genuine, but most of all he was right. He was meant to rise. He brought the quill to the bottom where there was a line to sign and then paused.

"Is there a problem, my prince?" the feline asked.

"No," Bertram shook his head. "Unless..." he glanced up at the feline. "Can this be adjusted?"

"Of course," the feline purred. "A wish can serve more than a select purpose. What else do you wish for?"

"For prominence past my time," the prince said. "I want heirs. Yes..." he nodded and licked his lips. "Many, many heirs, which means many--"

"Mates," the feline finished for him. "Yes, that can be arranged."

"Crudely put but yes, mates," Bertram murmured. "A legacy is nice, yes, but I'd like a long life too so that they know me well and witness my flight into prominence. Can you do that?"

"Simple," the feline said with another nod.

"And this costs me no more?" Bertram asked.

"Not unless you wish to lengthen your signature," the feline laughed.

"No," Bertram said. "I won't do that. I've practiced it perfectly and this will be the first time it really matters. There will never be a reason to change it after this."

He brought the quill back to the signature line and was just about to sign when he paused again. The prince looked up to the feline who still stared at him with curious eyes.

"Something else?" the feline guessed, whiskers twitching with what the prince assumed was amusement.

"How does this work?" Bertram asked. "Is anyone going to die?"

"Some things will have to change," the feline explained. "But no one will die ... unless you'd like them to."

"No," Bertram shook his head. "There would be no satisfaction. No, I want to see the envy in their eyes as I take my rightful place. No one will die."

"As you wish," the feline chuckled. "After you sign, of course."

Bertram nodded and signed his long signature with a flourish. Just as he pulled the quill away from the last curling line, the contract began to crinkle and crack. Bertram back away in bewilderment and watched as the parchment crumbled into dust that scattered across the plateau and towards the gleaming castle in the distance. The prince watched it go and then yelped as he felt something move in the hand that held the quill. He looked over to it and found that he clutched at a blackbird. He yelped and let it go. The bird screeched before flapping its wings and flying away.

"What just..." he began as his gaze turned back towards the feline. He blinked when he saw the cat had spots again, but more disturbing was how his eyes glowed red and he bore a smile that stretched his face apart.

"You signed," the feline purred. "You fool."

"Fool?" Bertram growled and reached for his sword, but all bravado was lost as the feline stepped towards him, out of his boots, revealing the cloven hooves that had been hidden until now. The prince in turn stepped back, eyes wide. "Y-you...you're a--"

"Problem solver," the feline said. "A wish granter. And I've both solved your problems and granted your wish. You should be thanking me, yes?"

"But you haven't--" Bertram stepped back and gasped. Though he wanted to get away from the demonic feline, he instead fell forward as something in his structure shifted with an audible snap. On the ground, he groaned, fingers scrabbling at the stone as he tried again and again to stand with no success.

"But I have," the feline purred. "Would it be entertaining if it were to be instantly so? No. Change takes time."

"C-change?" Bertram stuttered and then...hissed as his tongue flopped out of his mouth, squirming and stretching with every passing second. He panted and hissed again, his head suddenly hot as his back ached. "What are you doing to me?"

"It's what you did to yourself," the feline said. "You asked for this."

Bertram shook his head and blinked in astonishment as chunks of his perfectly coiffed, curly golden hair fell onto the ground in front of him. Still on all fours, he let his knees touch the ground as he scrabbed for his hair, scooping it up with his hands before he noticed something was wrong with them. His skin had begun to harden and take on a spotted sapphire coloration as his fingers started to stretch and thicken, especially at their ends where his well trimmed nails were beginning to resemble something sharp and cruel and wholly inhuman--claws.

"What have you done?" Bertram screeched, the rest of his hair billowing to the ground as he felt the hardening of his hide spread up his wrists to his elbows.

"We've already been over this," the feline sighed with a sneer.

"But--" Bertram hissed and winced as he felt something pull at his back, lifting his rear up. He dug his fingers into the ground and whimpered in distress as he felt his claws scratch against the stone. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth together even as they began to lengthen and sharpen and multiply in his mouth. He whimpered, wiggling his rear as that something pressed out and out, an appendage he felt wriggle and squirm in the confines of his silken tunic. Without really thinking, he reached his claws up and pulled at the shirt, the sound it tearing causing him to open his eyes and see that his ever present nose had diminished in his vision. He had other things to worry about, his gaze quickly sweeping over his sapphire scaled arms up to his finest shirt, now torn and ruined. His hissed in frustration but pulled it off, relief granted as his new appendage was freed. Still, he wanted to see what it was and he tried to stand again, only succeeding in falling onto the ground. He hit his head against the stone and groaned, rolling over onto one side. He brought his clawed hands to his face and searched for a bump, but felt only a smooth, bald head that was quickly being overtaken by scales, though his hair wasn't the only thing missing as he felt the sides of his head.

"My ears!" he screeched, his voice taking on a slight hiss. "Where are my ears?"

"Still there," the feline laughed.

Bertram opened his mouth to retort, but all that came out was gurgling rasps as his face began to press forward, lengthening and swarming with scales as it slid out into a reptilian snout. Dumbfounded, he gripped at his new muzzle and his whole body shuddered in the scales spread. He squirmed and fell onto his back, his tail--his tail!--squirming underneath him as he felt the scales subsume skin and hair from his neck to his shoulders, the sapphire spotted spread visible even over the snout that stubbornly persisted in his vision.

"Stop this!" Bertram growled, saying no more as he winced at the bestial rasp of his voice. He propped himself up with his claws to stare accusingly at the feline, wincing and shifting his hips from side to side as they widened slightly, his tail stretching longer so that it wigged just outside of his frame of vision.

"Really?" the feline mocked. "You wish to remain undone?"

"No, I..." Bertram panted, his whole body shuddering again. Abruptly he heard another tear and he sat up a little more to see tri-taloned feet bursting out of his boots. He sobbed and cried out in a reptilian hiss, not sure whether he was more upset at the loss of his toes, the fact that he could feel the scales crawling up his legs, or that he had just ruined a pair of his best boots. He stretched his new talons and pressed them into the ground, trying to stand again. This time he succeeded, though he wobbled unsteadily and his back ached again, this time higher up.

"What is this?" the feline mused idly. "A beast that walks?"

"I'm no beast!" Bertram roared, and then his whole form shuddered for the third time and it brought more than mere pain this time..

As Bertram fell forward once more, catching himself on his thickening claws, that are becoming larger and, sharper. This growth spread to the rest of his body in other ways. His tail, thin and long, began to thicken muscle crept up under his scales, limbs growing thicker. He panted, reptilian cranium growing bulkier as well, the heft of his head causing it to fall flat against the ground especially when three bony black ridges--horns, he realized--curled out of the back of his head.

With his head on the stone, he stared up at the feline who stared down at him with that same impossibly wide smile and swirling red eyes that blazed with amusement. The changing prince felt fire rise up in his own belly as it barrelled out thicker and more muscular, but all that fire could do now was spiral out of his nostril slits as lavender smoke. No, there was something else it could do--Bertram felt the fire trickle to his groin, his manhood soon throbbing and erect. He rasped and moaned, and then felt it began to retreat.

His eyes opened wide and he tried to turn his head, but his neck simply could not support such movements. Frustrated, he hissed and roared and then stopped doing so, spitting out smoke instead as his neck thickened, lengthened, and strengthened, scooting his head forward. Hissing again, he turned his head around, snout wobbling uncertainty as he looked past his growing, bestial arms towards his loins. He had to lift a leg awkwardly to see it, but when he did, he hissed again, panicked as he saw that there was simply nothing left of his manhood, just a dark blue horizontal slit that dripped lewdly with beads of a liquid that hissed and simmered, steaming off his paler ventral scales.

Bertram stared and hissed once more, unsure how to react. What did that slit, so wide and deep and simultaneously alien and familiar mean? He desperately tried to recall anatomy lessons delivered to him by a royal tutor, but he had never paid much attention to them. Why should he have cared about a cockatrice's wattle or how many heads a hydra had when he was all that mattered? Why would he have taken the time to memorize the anatomical differences in sexes for draconic species? It was not as if he was ever going to fuck a dragon or gods forbid fight one. No, his knights, his subjects, loyal as they were, would fight such a beast if it ever intruded on the kingdom, or at least he had hoped one or more of his fool brothers would get killed nobly fighting one of if ever such an event did occur and now it was, in a way. There was a dragon in the kingdom now, still growing, but maybe it wasn't a dragon so much as a--

"A Dragoness?" Bertram hissed and wailed, noting how his voice was a little higher now, a little feminine or was that just his imagination. He was a prince. That pulsing slit that felt so hot, hotter than the fire in his bigger belly, surely hid a masculine memberinside of it, maybe even two of them? He couldn't remember if dragons did have two, but he hoped they at least had one. He hoped he at least had one.

He hoped he wasn't, well, she.

"Is there something wrong?" the feline asked.

"Yes!" Bertram glowered, turning his elongated neck so he stared at the creature that had gotten him into this whole mess. The feline seemed so smaller now. "My wish wasn't to be a dragon!"

"And why not?" the feline said, clicking his hooves against the ground with something Bertram doubted was uncertainty. "They're regal creatures aren't they? And quite self-important too, not to mention you are becoming attractive."

"You--" Bertram began to growl, anger dwindling into a surprised hiss as his vision became haze. He reached towards his eyes, but they cleared themselves up as they progressed from human to something in between human and reptilian beast before becoming golden eyes split by sapphire slits. When he could see again, the feline still stood there, smug and amused as ever. Now that he truly was a dragon, Bertram wanted to burn the feline fiend alive if that was even possible, but he wasn't sure how to and worse, the heat seemed to still be concentrating at his damnable slit. He shivered, pressing it onto the ground and while the cool stone felt good, it did little to suppress the rising heat. Still, he rubbed it harder against the stone, mewling and hissing and waiting for his reptilian member (or members) to emerge. And yet it did nothing, his desire for...something sexual: surely not taking in but thrusting out more and more on his mind as his now draconic mind imagined a line of needy dragonesses, creatures that were female and fertile, before him while his draconic body finished filling out even if his shoulders still ached.

"I granted your wish," the feline simpered. "Dragons are quite long lived as well, yes? It means you'll have plenty of time to have those heirs and you'll have an easy time of it too."

"Human heirs," Bertram hissed. "I wanted human heirs and I certainly didn't want to be a dragon!"

"Ah," the feline chuckled. "Well, you didn't specify on both those counts. And you're not quite a dragon yet. Where are those wings?" He clicked his tongue. "You'd just be an overgrown lizard without wings!"

Before Bertram could respond, his shoulders throbbed once more and then wings burst creakily from his back. He staggered, falling flat on his chin, rear raised high while his tail swayed wildly about as his fledgling wings grew and grew, fragile membranes toughening with soft sapphire scales as they flapped futilely, unable to do anything other than frighten Bertram from the fleshy, tearing sound of their growth paired with pain. He panted, closing his eyes, wanting to think about anything but what was happening to him, but all he found in his mind's eye was that line of needy dragonesses, positioned like he was, front to the ground, rears raised high and tails curled even higher, exposing that dripping, pulsing horizontal slits that were ready, ready for him to plunge in and--but no, that wasn't right, because he had nothing to plunge in except his tail and why would he plunge that in when the dragonesses, in fact, were him? Bertram felt his breath stop as the line of dragonesses slid together into one, one sapphire scaled dragoness that had the same pulsing, needy slit as him, the dragoness that was him, the female that she was, ready for warm dragon dick and the hotter seed that came with it, rich seed that would ensure she was gravid after their coupling.

"No, no, no!" Bertram wailed, fully formed wings flapping wildly now as he dropped his tail over his sex in the vain hope of hiding his heat.

"No?" The feline said, his calm, chuckling voice audible even over the needy noise the dragon was making. "But there they are, your wings that could fly you into prominence . . ."

"This isn't what I wished for!" Bertram snarled, opening his eyes.

"Oh, but it is," the feline promised, winking. "It's what you wished for and more. There's not so many dragons left nowadays, let alones dragonesses. The drakes will surely see you for what you really are: a fertile female, eager to be serviced... or serviced."

Bertram ceased flapping his wings and glared at the feline, golden eyes narrowing. He opened his mouth, whether to speak or to incinerate the feline, he wasn't sure, but he did neither as he heard something that made him freeze: the flapping of other wings nearby, wings that were even larger than his. He remained still as he could, his body shaking in the throes of draconic heat, as he waited for that flapping to fade away and yet it only drew closer and closer. He clamped his jaw shut and stared at the feline, eyes widening as the infernal creature's smile spilled out of its confines. Then the newly minted dragoness felt and heard something large land behind him. Unwilling to remain still any longer, he spun around and found himself face to face with a dragon, a much larger dragon that her instincts recognized as a drake. His scales were so darkly purple that they were almost black, with two horns that curled close to his snout and a hunger in his green eyes that had nothing to do with appetite. His nostrils flared and the drake's maw split open, revealing many, many sharp teeth but for some reason the sight of them was not so threatening. In fact, it was almost...attractive?

Bertram shivered and turned away, but then he felt strong claws snatch him and force him to look back at the drake. He hissed and snarled, but every part of his body was telling him not to fight even as his mind did.

"Feisty," the drake remarked in a rough, bassy voice. Bertram's form shuddered at the sound of that single word even as he tried to maintain his composure, his slit seemingly excited by every syllable. "What's a dragoness like you doing out here, in heat...alone?"

"I'm not--" Bertram started. He turned his head and nodded at the feline. "I'm not alone."

"Oh?" the drake murmured, eyes twinkling. "Is there another male out here for me to fight? This plateau isn't big enough for the both of us."

"No!" Bertram protested.

"No?" the drake tilted his head, concerned eyes looking deep into Bertram's own. For a moment, Bertram felt fearful but then the drake laughed and let his head go. "You mean there's another dragoness? Your sister, maybe? Well, I can handle more than one you, you know. In fact, more than a couple."

"No!" Bertram said, unsure why he was stuck on the word until he realized he was more talking to the sizzling, pulsing slit tucked beneath his tail more than the drake in front of him. He wouldn't tell such a fine specimen no, not when he could breed her and ensure she could have eggs of her own.

"No?" the drake growled. "That's a lot of no's from a dragoness. Two is too many for me. Are you addled perhaps? Most only say it once."

"No, I--" Bertram whimpered as she...he saw something flash in the drake's eyes. The dragoness shrank away and was surprised when the drake shifted his muscular bulk and turned away from him. He felt hope rise in his heart as the drake flapped his wings, but then the drake looked over his shoulder and smiled again as he lifted his tail. Guided by instinct, Bertram's eyes flitted to what the drake had beneath it. She gaped at the flared, throbbing purple member that hung out of the drake's slit. Bertram salivated above and below, but let out a pathetic whimper and closed her eyes as she looked away from the dragon's dick.

"No, no, no!" she said to herself as the image of the dragon's member remained in her mind. It didn't belong, she shouldn't be thinking of it, and yet it the erect dragon dick stayed in her thoughts, but it wasn't a mere image. No, it moved in her mind as she imagined it coming closer and closer, teasing at her edges and folds before it plunged in, him on top of her, heavy and muscular and masculine, digging deeper and deeper with each thrust, the needy dragoness wanting it, begging for it, and loving it.

"Certainly addled," the drake rumbled from so close by. "Is it the heat?"

Bertram mewled and shook her head.

"Ah," the drake snorted. "A dumb dragoness. Well, I do not wish for addled whelps."

Bertram's eyes shot open and she stood up strong and tall. She snarled as she glared at the drake.

"I'm not a dumb dragoness!" she roared. "I'm royal and my whelps will be..." She blinked. "My whelps..."

"Ah, so she can speak!" the drake chuckled. "And she's royal! But I don't care about that."

"Y-you don't?" Bertram sputtered.

"Of course not," the drake hissed. "All dragons are royal. But I do care about something, and I think you do too, don't you?"

Bertram felt her gaze drawn to the drake's member, but she shook her head. She clenched her jaw and scooted back, her slit rubbing against the ground. She shuddered and looked back.

"Yes, that's it," the drake said, nearly purring as he turned his front towards her. "You're in heat. I could smell it from miles away. Started weak but the scent is oh so strong now: so flush and fertile, and yet you hide it. Come on then, girl, won't you let me see it?"

"No!" Bertram snapped and the drake sighed, obviously disappointed. Immediately the dragoness felt her anger fade away as she watched him back away again, though with his throbbing member in sight. "Wait, don't--"

"A shame that you deny one who would give you everything you desire. I wouldn't have done anything without asking," the drake said with a shake of his head. "I can't say the same for other drakes."

Bertram's wings flapped in discomfort. Other drakes? But of course, she was in heat and if this drake could smell her, certainly others could too. She could reverse this...condition, she was sure of it, she just had to beat the heat first, which meant...

She turned away from the drake and found the feline in front of her, his striped face still smiling. She hissed at him but otherwise ignored him, looking over her shoulder at the drake. She dipped her front half low and she raised her rear and lifted her tail.

"Please," she begged. "Please just..."

"Just what?" the drake asked solemnly. "I need you to be more specific."

"Just...just..." Bertram whimpered. "Just breed me already."

"Hmm..." the drake rumbled.

"Please..." Bertram whined.

"No," the drake said bluntly.

Bertram whimpered again as she stared at the drake in shock. He chuckled but remained where he stood, which was wrong because he was supposed to be on top of her, penetrating her scaly folds, digging and thrusting and pumping and--

"Please!" Bertram shouted, so needily that she felt ashamed. What was she doing? She was a prince, a human, and royal for the gods' sake and here she was presenting herself so wantonly to a handsome, virile drake. What was the problem again?

"Oh, alright," the drake said so casually that Bertram was once again disappointed. Then he was upon her, pouncing and mounting her in one fluid motion, forcing her front further down as he mounted her. She whimpered as her head was pushed into the ground, him maneuvering it with her horns and she closing her eyes as she imagined his member moving closer and closer to its target. Any moment now and she would have what she desired.

But that moment never came. She waited and waited and waited, nethers throbbing wantonly but there was a touch of his tip or even a brush of his claws, just him on top of her, nipping gently at the soft scales of her neck. She whimpered and opened her eyes and saw the feline standing so close, his smile wider than his shoulders. She shivered and didn't care about him, not now, not yet, not when there was a bigger problem at hand, like why she wasn't being bred already when her swollen slit was exposed and ready. What was he waiting for?

Then he pressed in and it was everything she wanted and more, her tail twitching, her talons scrabbling at the ground. Or was it? Even as his member brushed against her sensitive slit, even as he pushed beyond the opening of her inner passage, there was still some doubt, but it was all lost as he delved deeper in before beginning to thrust in earnest.

"My, you're tight," the drake murmured. "Is this your first time in heat, girl? Or are you just experienced?"

Bertram hissed, unable to respond as the alien pleasure of being so thoroughly penetrated by a strong drake overwhelmed any sapient response she could have hoped to conjure. He was in her now, and she was into him, glad to have a drake so deep in her sodden, sizzling snatch , glad to breed. There was thoughts of importance and attention and heirs, but that was all being taken care of. She was certainly creating heirs, she was certainly getting the attention she so desired, and for this moment and maybe this moment only, she was the most important thing in someone else's life. She panted and pressed her rear up, spurring him on even as his light nips on her neck became a little harder and it became almost impossible to move her head under his domineering presence. She still stared at the feline, but she was smiling now too, an instinctual, toothy lust addled grin that broadened with each thrust in and out. She felt her pleasure rise and rise and knew that she was close just as the magnificent drake on her was getting there too. She realized she didn't care if she had her final pleasure just as long as he did, just as long as he came into her and ensured this damnable heat was dealt with and the start of her eggs was delivered.

And soon enough it did come, the drake above her grunting and shuddering just as she hissed and shuddered before squealing as his member jerked and delivered its promise inside of her, thick, rich seed that made its mark. She hissed loudly, smoke spiraling out of her nostrils as the drake tightened his jaws around her neck that left a little blood trailing down it. She hardly cared, only barely noticing the sound of the blood dripping onto the stone as she half-writhed in ecstasy, her pleasure only increasing as he slowly, ever so slowly, drew out of her, her slit dripping the remnants of his seed that hadn't quite made it. She didn't care. Her womb felt full, satisfied and even now the heat was beginning to dissipate.

It was becoming easier to think clearer now, but the restoration to her normal mind was slow, ebbing and flowing along with her pleasure. She gave one more shudder as he took himself completely out of her, giving her one more loving nip before dismounting. Vaguely, she heard him murmur something, but it was lost. She did, however, hear hips huge wings flap, the air rushing around her. She lifted her head and blinked and then watched as he took off, rigid member sliding back into his slit. She watched it go mournfully and then shook her head.

"No, no, no!" she cried out, struggling to her feet. Her recent act of...breeding had exhausted her more than she thought it would, but there was something else weighing her down: uncertainty, and lots of it especially as she felt the aftermath of the activity drip down her slit and onto the stone. She looked over to her used horizontal slit, her cloaca she now recalled, and hissed.

"So displeased!" the feline leered from nearby. "You should be happy. Your wish is fulfilled."

"Wish?" the dragoness snarled, turning to face the feline. "I didn't wish to be fucked by a dragon!"

"Not in so many words, not exactly, but you'll certainly have heirs now," the feline said with a wink. "They're already on their way."

"What do you mean?" Bertram said. "I just..."

The dragoness froze as she heard something gurgle and it certainly wasn't her stomach. Slowly, she turned her head to look back between her loins and while her slit wasn't flush or dripping with need, there was something else going on. Her gaze crept up past it towards her stomach and that's when she was it: a small bulge. At first, it looked like as if she had just a particularly satisfying meal but then the bulge grew out, larger and larger into a soft, pregnant swell with a few bumps as a sign of eggs growing within.

Eggs...

"No, no, no!" Bertram wailed.

"You do say that a lot," the feline murmured.

Bertram looked back to the fiend and wailed again. She wanted to say something, to shout, to roar, to bury the feline in her anger but she knew it would do nothing. The feline was there, but not really there. This devil was her own.

So, the dragoness ran off the plateau, flapping her wings but knowing she couldn't really fly. Not only did she not really know how, but her belly was becoming progressively heavier and heavier. She followed the path of the plateau, her pacing slowing slightly with every step. She wanted to blame it on the exertion from her transformation, from the exhaustion of her breeding, but deep down she knew that she was slowing because her pregnancy was progressing at an impossible rate. Soon, she would be laying and she couldn't do it out here, not in the open. She needed to make it somewhere safe, enclosed, away from that gleaming castle she could see so far away full of people that wouldn't recognize her. And yet they would recognize her as important, attractive in how her scales shined, and regal in her flight, that is, if she wasn't so positively pregnant.

She wailed at the thought, taking a left at the fork in the path, knowing where it lead or at least hoping she remembered right. She whined once she felt her belly brush against the ground and now she knew she was running out of time, but she didn't make it in time, not quite. She froze as she felt the first egg drop out of her egg chamber within her and instinct told her to make with what she had, to lay here, to lay now, but she kept on moving, hissing and wobbling as she made her way down the path. Then she saw it, a cave tucked away in the side of a rocky mountain. She ran towards it even as her slit pulsed and the egg was nearly beginning to press out. She made it into the cave and it was large, big enough for her to squeeze in, especially since there was someone else there, the spotted feline standing in the corner of the cave, smiling as he leaned back, one hoof pressed against the stone wall. His smile was more subdued now, but its shadowed stretched far on the walls. Bertram ignored him, squatting as best she could, lifting her tail as she hissed and pushed, smoke pushing out of her nostril with each puff.

"Your first clutch," the feline said. "And it won't be your last. They'll all be like this, you know. Rapid. You did ask for many, many heirs."

Bertram huffed and shuddered, feeling the first egg crown. She looked over her shoulders and lifted her wings so she could catch the barest glimpse of it. It was so big, too big, and yet it was hers and she felt some pride at that and was that wrong? She pushed this out of her mind just as she pushed out the egg, the first one falling onto the ground with a dull clunk. She sighed in relief as it rolled away, then shuddered as the next egg was on its way. The second came easier than the first, but not too much easier. She shivered and pushed hard for every inch it moved even as she glanced at her swollen belly and wondered how many there could be.

"Ah," the feline sighed. "And your clutches are larger than average. Much larger." He winked and twiddled with his whiskers. "Many, many heirs. Aren't you pleased?"

Bertram hissed, but it was because of the second egg leaving her, not the feline. She hardly heard his words now, merely focused on laying the eggs--her eggs, her clutch, her heirs and there would be many of them. Very, very many. With a huff and puff of flame, she concentrated solely on egglaying.

As it turned out, she had seven eggs inside her, seven eggs that she gathered together and lay next to, curling her tail around her clutch. She felt pride above all, but still some doubt lingered, doubt that began to dissolve as something more fiery and pressing slowly overpowered it.

The dragoness panted and hissed, standing from her clutch to look at her cloaca. Already it dripped with need, and this need dripped onto the stone floors. She hissed and stepped back, awkwardly reaching back and teasing at her own slit with claws that just barely touched at her slit. She heard a chuckle, but ignored the feline standing so close by, instead keeping her hearing open for another sound and her nostrils sniffing for a specific smell.

Soon she heard it, the flapping of wings, and smelled it, the scent of a strong, virile drake, though she was only more interested when she noted that it was more than one pair of wings that flapped and that there were a couple distinct smells. She hissed, ready for them to enter the cave so that they could enter her cave as well, but instead she heard them scuffling outside, tears and bites and roars.

"They're fighting," the feline purred. "Over you, and when they're done, when one's won, well...you'll be his prize." The fiend chuckled. "You're so important that you'll be the prize of many, sought after, fought over,, and bred over and over and over. Rest assured you'll have your heirs,, but this what you wanted, no?"

Bertram froze, unsure how to respond, her mind processing that this life of breeding and laying was what her life was to be now. Dread crept up into her mind, but it was mostly stifled by the heat. She had a far greater problem to deal with and she hoped a drake would be there to help soon.

"As for what you were, well," the feline shrugged. "Do you think they'll even notice you're gone? They may mourn for a time, but they'll scarcely remember you. Your kind now, though, I do not think they will ever forget you."

The former prince snorted and huffed, not really hearing much of the feline's words other than the mention of drakes. Where was one? She turned around and scratched at the cave walls before making herself comfortable. She pointed her scaly posterior firmly at the entrance to the cave and lifted her tail, presenting her needy slit while ignoring the feline's nearby chuckles and purring. While the drakes still fought over her, making her wait, she who was so important, and kept her waiting, she decided she could wait a little longer. Sooner or later, one would come and fulfill the other portion of her wish, a wish whose specifics no longer seemed so important, corrupt as it was.

"My, my," a drake's rumbling voice echoed through the cave sometime later. "Quite a prize..."

Bertram shivered and waved her tail enticingly, excited for the drake to grant her wish.