FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Note: The character name "Itlahtuk" is Kuthalti backwards, named after the egotistical edge lord himself. The pronunciation of it is "It-luh-took" but occasionally shortened to "Ithy" or "Took"

Chapter 0: Prologue

"Ten thousand gold bounty?" The silver clad man asked as he tapped upon the parchment aside the door. Depicted was a crude sketch of a dragon in flight.

The young maid nodded her head as she clung to his arm, "The beast has terrorized villages far and wide, even kidnap women for God knows what horrible fate."

The man licked his lips and eyed the woman. His unnatural silver eyes reflected the sun, and left a shimmer cast across her features. She however did not seem repulsed by his inhuman features, women never were. She felt safe and comfortable, she trusted instinctively. "I have a number of ideas, there are many fates a poor helpless maiden can be put to, after all."

Her eyes widened and stared back up into his, reflecting his impossibly handsome visage. "You are too bold, sir. I have not the slightest notion of which you speak." The blush that crept up her neck and spread across her cheeks told another story.

He dropped his hand from the poster to cup her flushed cheek, she felt cool against his warm palm. The innocent expression faltered with parted lips and an eager gasp. "Not the slightest? Why, I'll have to give you a--deep--education."

"I... I..." She couldn't form a thought, let alone a sentence. He held her, eye to eye, and penetrated beyond into the private sanctum of her mind. Nausea suddenly clutched at her stomach and terror clawed at her heart. Into her he poured, mind to mind, an identity like molten magma into the thimble of awareness. No more than a second passed, a momentary glance, the maiden was gone.

He looked away again and gazed at the poster. At his side the husk that had once been a woman, wet herself, then fell limp. He caught her with one hand by the throat and pinned her limp body to the wall. There she hung, not even struggling to breathe. His clothes opened, they moved like living things, like flesh lips opening. An onyx black spire rose between them, his erection, covered in back curved claw like spines.

With eyes on the bounty, he raped the husk straight through her clothing. There was no life in her, no struggle, no fear. He had drained her already, violated her in the most intimate of ways. She was nothing to him, but his needs... Blood dripped down the front of his false clothing and the wall. His phallus sank in again, bottomed out, then further as he ripped into her body cavity. It felt... it felt good, right. His hips twitched, just a faint involuntary reaction.

A man looked up from a near by table and eyed them. A moment ago the couple had been talking, but that sound... like fat sizzling on a hot pan. He wiped his eyes and tried to focus through the haze of strong drink. He had her against the wall and... "Whua? Wh...?" Her stomach swelled like a wineskin ready to burst. Steam gushed out from between her legs with splatters of cooked meat and pale blue fluid. Where the fluid landed, her clothing and the wooden flooring smoldered. Then, she ruptured.

Burnt and steaming organs splattered across the room. Those who hadn't noticed were pelted by molten hot splatter, small fires caught here and there, people screamed. The silver man, erection still spilling it's glowing blue semen, leaped upon the next patron and shoved his spire straight down the drunk man's throat, he cooked alive from the inside out in seconds, then burst just like the woman.

One by one, the tavern was cleansed of life. One by one, each villager was snuffed out. A few screamed, a few fought, a few tried to escape: none were successful. Once the tavern was clean, the man of silver moved on, first one house then another. The guards were roused, armed men came to the rescue, and were raped in the streets as arrows bounced and swords struck flesh like iron.

As the last man kindled from within and flames gutted him, Kuthalti began to laugh and transform. The corpse ruptured as the erection swelled from simply inhuman to monstrous along with the rest of the dragon's body. "Not enough," He lamented aloud, "never enough." Around him, the village blazed with flames ignited by his spilled seed. Within him the furious lust and hatred roiled unsated.

A scrap of parchment slowly burned black, pinned aside a door. Into the night the dragon launched himself. His back-draft tore the parchment free and it fell tumbling into the dark. The crude sketch of a dragon vanished in flames, but the destination remained clear. There was a bounty to be sought. Not gold--though he would take that too--it was something far greater, far more satisfying.

Chapter 1: Womanhood

"We are supposed to be gathering nuts," Ash chided.

Itlahtuk couldn't help himself. There was something about Ash today, something so very enticing. His muzzle pressed under her tail and he took a deep breath. The scent of her stood every hair on end and left his stomach knotted with strange tension. She hopped a few steps away with a yelp and tucked her tail over her vent. The look in her eyes was wary and a bit uneasy, but he just didn't care, that scent... that feeling... that... that hunger.

"Took, come on, let off." She was eldest, she got to boss everyone else around, and today she had decided they would have nuts with dinner. Flamme had been eldest, but she was gone now, gone for four years. Itlahtuk barely remembered her now, only her desperate screams and the haunting silence that followed. They didn't talk about that however, tried not to think about that.

Between his hind legs, his vent clenched and his back arched, tucking tail involuntarily. He shuddered hard and shook his head, but couldn't clear his thoughts or fix his gaze. "Ash," he said through gritted teeth, "Why do you smell so good?"

She stared at him as he rubbed his nose into his shoulder, as if that would clear the scent of her heat from his sinuses. She stared, and knew. Such a deep sadness welled in her heart, an ache that threatened to break her. "It's my time," she told the younger one. Just like Flamme. Flamme had gone into heat in the middle of the night. She'd driven the younger boys to distraction, but they hadn't had a chance before her scent had reached Kuthalti's chamber.

She couldn't run, none of them could. She couldn't hide, there was no where he couldn't find. She closed her eyes and looked away. As a female, she had known her day would come. The boys had less to fear, only needed to keep out from underfoot and not attract Father's ire.

"Why not?" She said aloud to some unspoken thought. Itlahtuk raised his muzzle and blinked rapidly at her, his gaze unfocused. Under his downy belly fur, his vent was swollen and weeping, she could smell him from here, taste his sweet-sour musk on her tongue. The effect she had on him was pronounced, but the effect she had on herself was even worse. He was her brother! "So what? Not like I'll..." She trailed off and shook her head.

"What?" Itlahtuk asked, "Ash, you're not making any sense. Your time for what? Why not what?"

"Oh shut up and come here," she snapped, almost like her old self. He stepped forward awkwardly, every shift of his hips sent jolts of sensation up his spine, his swollen vent was like a scalding stone tucked between his thighs. He tail rose again to expose the black, swollen flesh of her vent in turn. Milky blue fluid stained her fur and ran down her thighs, it was that which drove his senses to madness.

He buried his face under his sister's tail again and jammed his tongue into her. He was so eager and inexperienced, like a puppy slobbering over it's first taste of meat. His chest rumbled and his hips bucked as her wet depths welcomed him. The scent, the flavor, the sensation! A growl that matched his own echoed from her, just as eager, just as inexperienced.

His nose thrust up, lifted her hind legs off the ground, and buried itself in her bowels. Milky fluid leaked into his eyes, drooled down his chin, and filled mouth and nose. Below his tail his vent swelled open and he mindlessly released his pent up urine. He couldn't help it, and in that moment, he didn't care. Normally fastidious and obsessed with cleanliness, his urine splashed upon his own belly and soaked his hind paws. More of his erection emerged, it oozed out from within, unrolled, then stiffened and flexed in the open air, still urinating. He'd never felt anything like it, that loose stiffness, that unbearable urge, that lust. Something in the back of his mind awoke for the first time. "Mine," he snarled into her and thrashed his head.

He tossed her like a rag doll off the end of his muzzle and she landed in the leaf mulch against the base of an old walnut. A ragged breath was torn from her gaping maw as she landed, and she squirmed back and forth in the roots, only half in control of herself. He leaped upon her and sank his claws into the downy fur of her chest, no control what so ever left in him.

Urine splashed into her belly fur, dark and pungent. His erection pressed, still emerging, into the cleft at the base of her tail. Her heated entrance gaped still from the stretch of his muzzle and welcomed him home eagerly. He sank in, met hip to hip, tail to tail, and roared into her throat. He felt the urge, so intense and overwhelming. His jaws parted, then closed on her neck, teeth sank through fur and just grazed her tough hide.

The awakened something in the back of his mind cried out in ecstasy as his now empty bladder clenched. His first erection swelled to completion with a thump deep within his sister's depths. She felt it inside, he felt it through her stomach. His head flared, swelled, and tied within her cervical passage. She thrashed, her claws raked his back, her own jaw closed on his neck, and she held him like prey. Every throb of his phallus sent a ripple of reflexive shudders through her that grew stronger with every passing moment.

His bladder clenched again, not entirely empty, but the viscous flow was nothing like urinating. It slithered up his erection, then stopped midway. He clenched again involuntarily on empty, then again. Inside his stomach felt knotted and cramped, physiological events he'd never experienced unfolded. Numerous gonads churned out their verile seed and poured it into his bladder. Again he clenched with a snarling roar, and the thick, sludgy flow pumped further up his erection, toward his swollen, throbbing head.

Ash fell limp, spent, as her climax flowed away from her and left her exhausted--and clear headed. "Took..." she prompted, but he didn't hear, "Took!" she cried at him as she felt his bucking spire swell centimeter by delicious centimeter. She wasn't as unaware as he was. She knew what would happen, she knew her fate should that sticky deluge pour into her womb. She wanted it, oh Father did she want it. But she knew better, she knew it would only put Itlahtuk in danger if he sired a clutch on her. Father would kill her, then kill him. It had happened before, before the boy had hatched.

She pushed hard and tore her little brother's teeth from her neck fur and threw him off with a buck of her hips. He rolled over onto his back and snarled with uncontrolled fury. She'd never seen him like this, so like his father, so... so frightening. She almost faltered, almost let him climb up atop again, but... but she cared for him deeply, she did not want to see him hurt.

She rolled herself hard with a slap of her tail, then leaped atop him. He clawed and bit, thrashed and bucked, but she held him pinned fast as his throbbing erection swelled before her. This... this was safe, this was good, she had done this before. She closed her lips around his huge heart shaped head and pushed her slim, forked tongue down his passage. He lost the will to fight and went limp in an instant. He throbbed against her tongue, his spire twitched, stomach clenched, and the bulge in the base of his shaft worked its way up toward her willing mouth.

Ash closed her eyes and settled her rear end over his chest with tail flagged aside to give him a wonderful view. She slipped her tongue out again and pushed that bulging spire into her throat, then down. He was so long, longer than any of his older brothers. She gagged, hard, but resisted her body's instincts. Down her throat he slid, down his shaft her lips caressed, until she nudged her muzzle tip into his sloppy wet cleft and breathed the pungent, wonderful musk. She loved him in that moment, as something more than a brother. Oh how she wished life could be different. Tears welled, then broke to run in heavy rivulets down her muzzle to pool in the base of his tail.

Itlahtuk saw only the beautiful passage before him. He'd been lost, little more than an animal in rut. Of course he couldn't breed her, that would have been stupid, he knew that, he did! The thoughts that came from the back of his mind whispered to him, told him such sweet lies. "I could just take her away from her, hide her, keep her as my own. No one would ever know, Father doesn't even count us..." He imagined her swollen with eggs, just like mother. Imagined her helpless, just like mother. Imagined her gaping vent perpetually drooling semen, just like mother.

His muzzle lifted, his tongue circled the smile under her tail, then he pressed turned his head and kissed her cloaca. "Mine," he whispered again, losing himself to the fantasy. His hips bucked, hard, his bladder clenched, and that sticky flow continued upward, into her throat, toward her waiting belly. "Mine," he moaned, then bit gently into the lower cleft of her entrance and suckled upon her slippery fold. She shuddered atop him, her depths clenched hard, and more of that sticky pale blue essence drooled onto his face. His bladder clenched again, violently.

The dam broke. He shuddered under her. He lost control. His roar deafened. She couldn't breathe, The swell in his erection bulged to the extreme. Then his head flared inside and the thick gummy plug blasted into the back of her stomach. His member shrank again, air sucked between teeth and over erect flesh. She swallowed and swallowed, as if she could clear her throat.

She could feel his mess within her, warm, heavy, and huge. None of his brothers had ever come close to his volume. She thought he was finished. One second passed, two, three, then another throb followed, another swell, another deluge emptied down her gullet. Her stomach bloated. Another pause, then his hips bucked, his erection swelled, and he unloaded another torrent into her.

The fourth ejaculation was a pale echo, his phallus didn't even swell, but she could feel his release gush into her tight gut. A fifth and sixth followed, just trickles. Then, he fell limp, dead to the world. She didn't move, didn't dare, so queasy. Bit by bit his erection began to withdraw before her muzzle. It sucked inward, drew itself up, and pulled against her face. Deep within, his still engorged head refused to dislodge itself from her gut. She felt like a fish caught on a hook, reeled in toward his vent.

A kiss startled her, directly to her swollen entrance. It was a tender kiss, followed by a gentle nuzzle at her inner thigh. "I love you Ash," he whispered, "Run away with me?"

Her heart broke. Tears rained down upon his lap even harder, and she shook with silent sobs. She tried to say something, but couldn't with her throat full, what was there to say anyway? She pulled, hard, and dragged her face from his depths. The swollen head ripped up her throat and popped into the open air. It slapped against his wet belly and sat there, steaming. The black flesh continued to throb, even as it retreated toward his cloaca. "You idiot," she sobbed aloud.

"What?" He whimpered, the hurt in his voice stomped on the remains of her heart.

She heaved, swallowed, and kept his ejaculate down, but it felt like it was trying to crawl up the back of her throat. As her mouth watered with nausea and tears rained down her cheeks, she told him, "As soon as Father knows I'm of age, he will kill me, just like everyone else. We can't hide, we can't run, we can't do anything..." she sobbed again, gagged, then swallowed hard. She could taste his seed, bitter-sweet and strange, so unlike his older brothers.

As she stepped away from him, he told her, "I'll think of something, just... just hide out here tonight. If he asks, I'll say you're watching the stars. How long can it last?"

Ash shook her head, she didn't know, no one had ever lived to see the end of their heat, that much she knew. But, she couldn't return home with his scent on her, or hers on him. "Fine, but we both need to wash up, if he even catches a whiff of me, it's over." He nodded, understanding, "No, better yet, swim in the swamp, if you stink bad enough he'll kick you out for the night. "

The look on her brother's face was one of pure horror. He looked like she'd just killed his pet human before his eyes... she'd seen that look often enough to recognize it. "Swim... in the swamp?" He shuddered, recoiled, glanced each way as if he might bolt.

She demanded, "Yes! Why not? Can you think of a better cover?" He hesitated, then shrank back from her and rolled onto his feet. His legs shook but held his weight.

"Fine, for you," He said, sternly, then looked her straight in the eyes. "Ash, I love you, and you are mine now, my mate, I don't care about Father. I swear I will find a way."

She looked back at him, her stomach for a moment settled, then gurgled audibly. She felt her ears heat with embarrassment not entirely over her own bodily functions. "Oh Took..." Her heart raced and her stomach clenched, the fire of need continued to burn but she mastered it. She couldn't however master her emotions. That fierce expression, the pride and aggressive dominance in his stance. She ducked her head and pressed her muzzle under his chin. It wasn't belief, not for a second did she believe he could save her, or any of them. It was something else, something pleasant and unpleasant all together.

His forepaw came to rest upon the back of her neck and pressed down. A fierce, thundering growl ripped up his throat and her fore legs buckled. He stepped upon her, held her against the urine stained leaf mulch. She inhaled the scent of him and closed her eyes. "Do you understand Ash?" Not, do you accept, do you understand.

She shuddered again as the vision of mother swam through minds eye. Her bloated, helpless body, chained to the floor and wall. "You... you won't hurt me?" She shook her head,"Do you truly think you can claim me from him?"

"Never, I'll never hurt you," he swore, even as his claws dug into her flesh and drew a spot of blood. He took a step forward, not answering the other question aloud. She opened her eyes and looked up in time to see his tail tuck and vent lips part. A fresh, heavy jet of urine splashed over her muzzle, crest, and down the back of her neck. She shuddered hard as something in her mind strained, like glass stressed too far, then snapped. Hope, she felt hope for the first time in her life.

Then the weight left her back as he leaped up into the air and flew deeper into the forest, toward the swamp. She laid there alone for a while with emotions all twisted up and confused. To the silent forest she whispered, "I love you too, Took..." then closed her eyes and relaxed. A moment later her stomach heaved and she didn't fight it. By that point her brother was too far away to hear her scream.

Chapter 2: Mother

He hadn't been kicked out for the night, but it had been a close thing. Instead, he had been sent to the baths and scrubbed head to toe by the slaves. He loved being clean, loved the feel of soft, downy fur, the scent of fresh soap. His membranes tingled and skin itched a little, but it was worth it to be truly clean. The memory of the swamp was enough to give him nightmares that not even Father's fury could compare with... but it was over, washed away!

Still, he had no wish for the company of his siblings, and father was out, so he settled onto a carved balcony over the supine form of his mother. Her stomach was grotesquely bloated with eggs. She would lay another clutch soon. He could smell father's leavings, the stench permeated every part of the room, a mucous layer smeared every centimeter of the floor, and a puddle remained perpetually refilled in the center, where mother was chained.

Her arms, wings, tail, and legs had been removed. She was fixed in place by heavy bolts and chains of mithril, driven through her stumps. The sight was grotesque, but Itlahtuk was used to it, he had never known any other life after all. He knew only the mother he had. "Mother," He called out quietly.

Her head lifted, empty sockets gazed up toward his perch, her mouth opened but only a rasp came out. No tongue, no vocal cords, just a hiss. He reached out in an instinctive and familiar fashion and touched her mind. He shared a vision, not what he saw now, not of her tortured form, but of the sky, of the forest, of the mountains. He let her fly with him and bask in the pleasurable aftermath of his conquest. Her fuzzy, barely coherent thoughts formed a question, why was he so happy? He showed her, let her see the beautiful sight of her daughter's cloaca, gaping open, swollen with lust. Let her feel the memory of his climax.

Aloud, he said, "I'm going to do it, Mother, I will." He laid a portion of his plan out, draped the hopes and dreams across her thoughts, like a comforting blanket. He felt hope rise in her as well, a yearning for freedom, not for herself but for her children. She clung to his mind, a bright star amongst the darkest nightmare, amongst a living hell.

Slowly, careful as a spider in a web, he extracted the details from her thoughts, tore the memories away, but left the emotions intact. Below him, his mother sighed and relaxed. She was happy for the moment, though she knew not why. It would not be wise to let Father pick the memories from her mind when next he bred her.

Aloud he whispered, "Oh Ash... Soon..." and stared at his mother's bloated, worm like body. She was so beautiful, swollen with life, purpose fulfilled. He saw Ash again in minds eye, in Mother's place. Body intact, wings and tail sprawled in a pool of semen, eggs sliding from her gaped cloaca, a smile on her exhausted face. Within he felt his newly awakened gonads begin to pulse. His bladder started to fill with seed again as the memory of his sister's scent returned full force. He resisted the instinct to clench and tried his best to relax. His seed continued to churn out, but his lust faded into a pleasant background note.

To himself he nodded and said, "Time to study."

Chapter 3: Nightmares

Ash slashed and clawed at the dirt as she scraped away the black mass and scrambled back. Her guts heaved, and another deluge of inky black sludge poured onto the forest floor. It was a writhing puddle of tiny black worms, almost too small to see individually, but large enough to move toward her on their own. They covered her muzzle, tangled in her fur, and wriggled across her hide, down, always down. She clawed at her chest, but her paws were covered in the inky mess and only smeared the tiny things everywhere.

She roared and leaped away, to smash her face and chest into the ground, but it did no good. No matter how hard she crushed, smashed, slashed, or stomped, there was always more. It was her brother's ejaculate, she'd felt it crawling up the back of her throat this whole time, only her swallows had kept it down until... until she'd let go. Now it filled her throat, filled her mouth, filled her sinuses. She even felt the tiny worm like sperm crawl out her tear ducts and could see them wriggle across her vision!

Her roar turned into a scream of madness as she tore blindingly into the twilight. She crashed into trees, smashed through bushes, tripped on roots and fell. When she stopped, she clawed at her own face and chest, but it did no good. In the dim light she saw them reach her undertail, the dark stain under her fur emerged and began to crawl inside. What was he, what were they? She screamed again, then collapsed. She just, simply, gave up. Her stomach heaved again, and another huge volume of black semen billowed up her throat, filled her sinuses, mouth, and spilled into the dirt.

It was too late, no need to run now, they had already gotten inside... She could even feel the mass moving down her intestines, toward her cloaca from the other end. Black tears ran up her cheeks against gravity and along the length of her neck. She couldn't escape, couldn't stop it. He had told her, but she hadn't truly understood. "Mine..." she whispered aloud in echo, then nodded her head. The movement caused more nausea, and another flood of semen poured up her throat. It wanted out, it was in the wrong place, the wrong end. So be it. "Yours, all yours, little brother..."

Ash closed her eyes, opened her mouth, and relaxed. She could feel them everywhere, tiny black worms, only a few millimeters long, all crawling toward her undertail. She parted her thighs, rolled onto her back, and relaxed. Her skin felt cool where they flowed, it tickled a little. She was revolted, yet resigned. She couldn't sleep, couldn't rest, yet was so very exhausted.

Darkness came, the moon rose, the stars came out. Her flesh writhed and fur stood on end as she felt the slithering seed wriggle it's way across her endlessly. Some time in the night the rest of it reached her, a cold wet mass of sperm and mucous touched her thigh, everything she'd vomited up before. She shuddered as it climbed up, over her pelvis, across her pubic mound, and reached her waiting vent. She was opened, pushed wide by the pressure of the squirming mass, and in it flowed. "Yours," she said again as she stared up at the stars, and felt the horrible truth as the mass squirmed in her womb. Her heat was quenched, it had vanished without her even noticing.

When Ash awoke again, it was nearly noon. She was a mess, scratches, gouges, chunks of fur missing, covered in dirt and grime. Her lower half and her face was covered in dry blue-gray mucous. Where ever the black sperm had touched was crusted over. Her stomach was swollen, not with pregnancy but the mass of semen still within. It didn't move much, but she could feel it at the extremities, single squirms against her sensitive innards. Worse though were the the eggs she felt, faint living embers. She wept again as her fore paws pressed against the bulge. It squished and flowed inside, spread out, but no matter how hard she clenched, she couldn't evacuate it. Instead, a stream of urine blasted from her vent into the air. She arched her hips and pulled her tail back, so at least she wasn't pissing on herself. Clean and yellow, not a trace of black. She was well and truly his, now he had only to keep his promise, to rescue them both.

Chapter 4: Urges

Itlahtuk felt like he needed to piss, his stomach bulged just a little and his bladder ached, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get it to flow. Urine passed with no trouble... in fact, a little too easily, he couldn't hold it for more than a few minutes, it just bypassed his bladder entirely and inflated his cloaca! But the pressure of his copious seed was impossible to ignore. Worse, the pressure felt good... too good. The thoughts that drifted in from the back of his mind gave him ideas he'd never before considered. Ash wasn't his only sister, just the eldest, and his favorite. He had others, they would make fine Mothers too, he was certain. Even his brothers looked enticing, his eyes strayed to their undertails or muzzles when they weren't looking.

It was only his intense determination and self control that kept him from humiliating himself or getting into a fight with one of his siblings. He had work to do, so much to study! He had always had a knack for learning, but he'd never attempted such a great work. Even as his unspent lust clawed at his mind, his discipline held and he poured himself into theory.

Father could find them anywhere they were, because he knew the shape of their minds. Just as he could reach out and touch his own Mother's thoughts from anywhere. The key then was to change that shape without altering the personality entirely. But that was only step one, step two was to leave Father's reach. Realm transition was required, Father did it regularly, but not all realms were viable. In some you might sublimate away as your atoms lost cohesion, others would subtly kill you as the laws of physics and biology didn't quite match. Careful destination, but enough transitions to hide your trail, possibly through a few highly volatile realms, like hiding your scent by walking up a river.

Itlahtuk read and reasoned, working entirely in his own mind, nothing on slate, nothing that could lead others to his conclusions. If another entered his mind, he would be lost, but out of respect siblings did not invade another's privacy without asking! Father though, he would need to avoid. Father stepped on minds as easily as he stepped on bodies, though he rarely obliterated his children's personality. Rarely.

The day came to an end, dinner was prepared, but he remained at his studies, fasting. Father was still out, he still had time, he would not waste it. It was well past midnight when the slave came to him, candle in hand. "Glorious one, we worry. You have not eaten, slept, nor even bathed in two days."

He turned from the book to stare down at the small, frail creature. He shared his father's opinion of lesser species, at least in part. Humans were nothing to him but uplifted animals, wallowing in their own filth and wasting their short, pathetic lives. However, they recognized that he was behaving oddly. That was not good.

"Are the others asleep? My brothers, sisters, the rest of the slaves?" The human nodded her head and looked up at him, there was a strange worship upon her face, a reverence she couldn't help but feel. He smiled at her and let his gaze shift, beyond her wide, doe eyes and into the mind beyond. She was worried for him, she had helped raise him, had lived in his home since before he was born. She loved him in a maternal way. The thought disgusted him, she was not his Mother!

"Kneel," he commanded. Her mind faltered, fear crossed it, then resolve and acceptance. She clutched her skirt and lifted it so she could drop to her knees without tearing the garment. She felt such a desperate need to protect it. Others wore only rags, or nothing at all, so it made a kind of sense, she was careful with hers. It was all she had. The thought came to him as he prepared to speak, and he let it pass his lips instead of what he had intended, "I have come into my maturity. You will satisfy me to the best of your pathetic ability."

Her mind recoiled, memories flashed through her thoughts, his brothers and their own lusts. She had endured over and over again. She had thought he was different, gentler, kinder. He was. With gentle care, he began to alter her thoughts. It was a simple action, something he had done numerous times to other slaves without them ever the wiser. Her motherly instinct turned to romantic affection, then twisted into dark, depraved lust. The betrayal faded into exaltation.

She cried out with joy and clasped her hands, "At last! Oh Glorious one! I would be honored to be your first." Seconds before, the thought had horrified her, now she wanted nothing less than to bloat with his eggs until her ribs burst. Her hands came to her breast and tore the fabric apart, exposing the flabby sacks of fat that dangled upon them, then ripped down until her hips were freed. She tossed the ruined garment onto the floor and crawled on top of it with rump raised.

He stared down at her naked body, nothing new or interesting to him. Two holes always struck him as strange, well, three he realized as he stared into her wrinkled, stretch marked cleft. She smelled wrong too, but his tail tucked involuntarily in any case, and his vent began to swell open. He stepped forward and pressed a fore paw upon her mid back, not hard enough to crush her, only pin her. Urine sprayed from his emerging black flesh and pooled in the crack of her ass. That too gaped a little as she spread her legs, she was about as well used as you could get without being sacrificed to Father.

He wrinkled his nose at the sour odor of her, but his body's need overrode his distaste for the creature. His bladder ached and stomach felt sore, yet sperm production continued unabated. With a sigh, he pressed the wrinkled, slippery mass of his still emerging penis into the crack of her ass and let it grow into her anus. She squealed aloud, then relaxed as he unrolled into her colon. Her mind was torn, but her anus remained intact even as his long shaft flowed it's way up her intestine. She had never felt someone penetrate so deeply and the curve of her bowel was unpleasant for both of them. As he stiffened though, something disconnected within with a shock of pain, and she straightened out.

"Ahhh better," he sighed and pressed his hips down to her rear, tail up against her belly.

She let out a sob, then replied, "O-of course Glorious one... anything for you."

He throbbed, the feel of her surrender satisfied something deep in his mind. It was his due, after all, she was his to use as he pleased. All of his brothers used their slaves, some times even slaughtered them. Father encouraged it, made a game of it, then got them more. He had amused himself on occasion with the torment of an inferior, but he had never felt the urge to kill, nor the urge to rape. Now, now he had tasted worship, and wanted more of it. Not death, not slaughter, not even rape, he wanted more like her!

He bottomed out at last, fully erect. His head emerged with a deep thud in her stomach, and swelled. She groaned and clutched at her gut, the distention over his tip was disconcerting her. It was just below her ribs, something inside of her, something alive, his heart beat felt, his lusty throbs impossible to ignore. His body shuddered, his hips bucked, and he pressed harder down on the poor woman. He didn't thrust, though he desperately wanted to, he didn't let himself move more than necessary.

Inside, he felt his stomach clench and ripple, muscles churning, bladder bloating with mucous. The mass began to shift under it's own pressure even before his first clench. He groaned aloud, though he desperately wanted to roar with all his might. Muscles seized, his seed squelched audibly free and passed with a rush up his urethra. His erection swelled, her anus stretched, colon filled, intestine bloated. Then at last as his head throbbed hard and remained taut, the copious gush exploded into her bowels, just below her ribs. Her stomach bulged as the deluge washed up through her digestive tract. Within seconds her lower intestines were filled. Her stomach gurgled loudly and she cried out with a gasp of discomfort. He could feel her determination falter, and bolstered it with another mental manipulation, altering her personality even further.

She felt pain as his seed flowed back up into her small intestines, deep cramps that came and went as her guts burbled and gushed. The pain gave her a twisted lusty pleasure, she moaned aloud and nearly climaxed. Her stomach flattened a little over the next few seconds, then his next clench arrived and he barely managed to contain his roar to only a snarl. She bloated again, overflowed, and the cramps came again, though fewer and higher up her inflated digestive tract. A third, and her stomach was beginning to knot itself. A fourth, a fifth, a sixth, just a trickle.

His paw slid off her back to the ground below, then curled under her. He clutched her chest flab and pressed her against him in a sort of hug, pinning her between him and the floor. It felt so good, the worship that radiated from her, the feel of her body struggling to contain his release. He pressed his muzzle into the back of her neck and inhaled the stench of her. Still unpleasant, but some how okay because she was his.

Bit by bit, her body relaxed and the flood he'd emptied into her flowed up into her stomach. Bit by bit his cloaca retreated and began to retract into his body. His head remained inflated, swollen and hard deep within her intestine, it didn't want to retreat, didn't want to unplug her. Yet, with short jerks and occasional throbs, he managed to work it out. She was in wonderful agony, but he didn't damage her. Four times she climaxed as he worked himself free of her. Then at last, a final jerk, and he ripped his bloated head from her anus with only a few small tears in her sphincter.

Her stomach gurgled again, she groaned and reached down to clutch at her distended belly, "Oh Glorious one!" she cried, then a few seconds later her gaping anus filled with black sludge. He recoiled onto all fours and stared down at her upthrust ass. It poured out of her like a living slime and crawled down over the short gap between sphincter and vagina, then slurped up into her. Her fingers were claws, digging at her aching, cramp filled guts as the writhing black sperm rivulet flowed out.

He pulled further back, eyes wide and staring. "What the hell is that?" he said aloud. Her mouth gaped, and she heaved, a moment later the black sludge poured onto the floor, then crawled up her chest to her back, and worked it's way toward her rapidly filling vagina. She threw up again, then again, upper digestive tract emptying first even as her uterus and body cavity inflated to bulging. She never responded. By the time it was over, she had passed out in a puddle of gray-blue mucous. Already he could feel his bladder begin to fill again, the heavy pressure just beginning to inflate.

Chapter 5: Intimacy

She had gone to the swamp, it seemed the safest place. Her scent was concealed well, and her heavy body moved easier in the water. A week had passed since he had left her. In only a week, her stomach had swelled, fur grew thin and patchy, scabs covered stretch lines where her hide had split. She could already feel them kicking. Eggs didn't kick, Mother's eggs never moved until a few years after being laid. Her eggs kicked, in fact, they writhed. She imagined black tentacles squirming through her womb, fighting.

He found her at last, his crimson furred form circled over head, then spotted her and spiraled down to the bank. He wouldn't come closer than dry land, refused to muddy his paws again, but he called to her from the shore, "Ash, I've got it! We can do it! But Father is going to return soon and I need to hide you before he does."

She stared up at him, half buried in the muck. Her body shook with pain and her stomach continued to shift and bulge as the children thrashed about within. She was endlessly nauseous and couldn't keep food down. She was wasting away and it had only been a week! She wasn't sure she could survive this, let alone hide. Yet... yet the hope in his beautiful viridian eyes compelled her. She felt like one of the humans, helpless before his majesty.

Slowly, she crawled from the muck and rose upon shaking legs. Her stomach distended past her knees and was bleeding again along her right side. She took a deep steadying breath and raised her dry muzzle towards his. He looked upon her mud flecked face and hesitated, then leaned in to rub his cheek against hers and give her lips an affectionate lick. His eyes drifted beyond, to the rest of her, coated completely in muck. It took him a moment to separate muddy water from dragon, when he did...

"You're so big..." It was a quiet realization, barely audible. He didn't seem surprised, but there was something foreign in his voice, something she had never heard from him before. Awe.

"They grow fast, very fast. I don't know if I can hold out. I can't eat, I..." he touched her mind without invite. Her eyes widened and instinctively raised a mental shield to reject his intrusion, but stopped herself. She was his, she belonged to him, she accepted that. She closed her eyes, took another slow breath and let it out. He was so deft with his mental touch, so practiced. She barely felt it as he reached behind her thoughts and began to alter her. She was frightened, yet she trusted him completely.

The pain faded somewhat, and she felt a strange pleasant glow instead, every split in her hide was an indescribable new sensation. The weight upon her frame did not change, nor the cramping in her guts, but it seemed less important. She leaned up into him and pressed her messy face into his throat and let out a soft sound, a sound she had never made before, had never even imagined she could. She could not hold it back, that call was too insistent.

He heard it, felt it in his heart and loins. He hadn't changed her that much, hadn't altered her urges or instincts. This was naturally her, what she was beyond the pain and misery. This was his sister rapt with love--for him. His heart swelled in his breast and tears prickled at his eyes. She really did love him, love him with such burning intensity! He nestled his thoughts against hers, basked in her genuine emotions, and let her feel his own, let her touch his possessive desire and surrender to it.

"Yours," she uttered aloud, then crooned again that lovers call. His hips jerked and vent swelled. His bladder was so full so desperately full. She felt his need as if it were her own and surrendered to it too. She crawled forward, onto dry land and under him. She laid upon the tufted grasses and leaf mulch and looked up at his bulging slit. His cloaca was full to bursting, no room in his bladder for his piss. The moment she kissed his vent, he sighed and let go. The deluge of golden waste poured into her fur and washed the mud from her cheeks. Her lips parted and welcomed the bitter taste across her tongue. She let her maw fill, her cheeks bulge, then she drank it down and pressed her muzzle inside and tongue as deep as it would go.

She tasted him then, beyond the foul reek of urine, her tongue found the flavor of his lust as it began to flow. Creamy blue mucous soaked his inner walls as he began to emerge. His outer vent swelled and began to distend around her face, pushing her back as it enveloped. She licked and nuzzled, worshiped and surrendered. This was her place now, it had always been her place. If not for him, she would have surrendered to Father and sacrificed her life to his lust. Here, she could live out her life in service to her beloved!

He everted entirely, the huge swollen head pressed against her lips, it's pointed tip against her chin. She licked into it, circled it, and nuzzled it across her face. A continuous stream of blue-gray coated her muzzle and washed away the reek of urine. "Yours," She whispered again, then sat back under him and carefully laid down with hind legs spread. Her belly stood up, jutted towards his. She was so filthy, covered in mud and muck, yet he had lost his disgust with the intense lust she had awoken. He carefully sat himself upon her tail and sidled up to her flanks.

His member lay upon her belly, it swayed and swished back and forth over the filthy fur and smeared that musky blue mucous into her. He was scenting her again, coating her in his breeding mark. She relished it. His thoughts were intertwined with hers, their sensations and feelings shared, consent a constant state reaffirmed. His swollen bladder felt like a glowing hot stone with muscle throbbing about it. He clenched and clenched, but never quite emptied himself.

Ash reached with her forepaws and tenderly caressed his swollen head. He was so strangely sharped, so unlike any of the others in their family. It made him beautiful and it made him interesting. Her caress turned to a slow intimate teasing as she stared up into his eyes. Green as bright as the sun against her amber gold. At last, he spoke again with baited breath and trembling diaphragm, "I am going to change you, change you so much that father will never recognize you even should he see you. I need more time to complete the transference ritual though. Can you hold out a few more days?" He asked, because she needed to hear it, but they both knew the answer. She would wait for an eternity.

She nodded gravely even as her digits danced across his sensitive head. "Itlahtuk. I will survive. I must. Your children require it."

"Our children," he told her. His eyes fluttered, closed, then opened again as his body shuddered. "I bask in your worship. I crave it so deeply. You are like the sun and I tree desperate for your life giving rays." Between them, the image formed in their minds, then drifted away as his bladder clenched. A trickle of semen began to flow, just a trickle. He held back this time, refused to climax so quickly. She could feel his determination to spend as much time as possible in pleasure and happiness with her.

Ash trailed a finger into his urethral cup. The digit was slippery, soaked in blue-gray, and slid easily up inside. She collected a smear of black, filament like as it spread into her fur. She brought it up before his eyes, and smiled at him, "You are wondrous, and your seed defies the limits of nature. You deserve worship." She could feel that need, to be akin to a god, not egocentric so much as interconnected. He wanted to sink into everyone and everything and share himself, spread his dark fertile gift across the land. Had she truly been horrified before by his seed? It was beautiful now in the light of day.

A splatter fell from his urethra to land upon her breast. The scent of it made her nose ache and eyes water. So intensely masculine, bitter, sweet, and strange. Her mouth watered with a mix of nausea and hunger. She pressed her lips to his urethra and licked inside to gather his dark seed up and swish it about her teeth. She could feel it as the tiny worm like sperm wriggled across her gums and tongue. He throbbed again, his hips jerked, and at last his control gave way. Her mouthful of semen had done it, had sent him beyond.

His bladder muscles clamped down hard, his stomach bunched visibly before her gaze. His spire swelled, inflated to nearly double it's girth, then shrank again as the huge flow of ejaculate blasted between her teeth and hit the back of her throat. There was no room for it, even as she swallowed. Her face was bathed, her neck, her chest, and the mud below her head. She didn't even close her eyes as the black slime pooled in them.

"Thank you," she whispered and waited for the second release. This time she closed her lips on his head, and let it flow into her at full force. Her lungs filled, her throat filled, her stomach filled, it blasted up her sinuses and spilled from her nostrils. A third gush followed, then a fourth splatter, and a fifth trickle, then just a few drops. She licked him clean and suckled upon his head, until he retracted all the way up to his vent. This was where she belonged, where she felt complete. "Thank you, " she told him again, and nestled her cheek to his thigh as he laid his exhausted body down atop of her.

Even as he began to drift toward sleep, she felt his mind tense. His body was as limp as possible, even his vent hung open, drooling mucous and urine upon her muzzle. Behind his closed eyes though, his mind worked furiously. She did not understand, had not practiced in the same disciplines as he. She could not follow, she only watched and waited until...

He struck like a bolt of lightning from a blue sky. She felt herself die, her sense of identity, her ego, her whole existence. She died the moment he touched her, and was reborn. She could not remember being anyone but herself, yet she knew, knew deep down she had once been someone else a long long time ago. Above her, her beloved let out a deep, contented sigh, and drifted off to sleep with her muzzle buried in his cloaca. This was right, this was where she belonged. She smiled and relaxed her throat as his seed began it's long exhausting trek from her stomach to her womb.

Chapter 6: Unwelcome Discoveries

He returned from tending to his mate, her belly full, womb active, and mind at peace. She'd kept the food down this time, and that was good, though the children within grew so rapidly he didn't know if he could feed her fast enough! She could barely walk, couldn't hunt for herself, couldn't care for herself. She was turning into Mother, a perfect servile womb to bare his precious young.

In his chamber at home, he found another servile womb upon her back, bloated stomach covered in scars and fresh splits. He lifted her up and carried her to his private bath, and cleaned her. She had soiled herself again. Then he fed her and laid her gently back in her nest. She was barely conscious, he had stripped away nearly every facet of her personality to make her comfortable and happy, humans really were not very adaptable, the trauma had almost undone her mind.

Still, it was worth it to have a vessel to empty himself into while he studied. He wasn't sure he would take her with when he left though, she would be too much of a burden, unable to care for herself just like his Sister, but without the benefits of a wonderful loving mind attached. He shook his head at the thought as his bladder released and dumped his pent up seed into the human's gaping womb. The trip back had only been an hour on wing, yet he'd needed relief already.

He nodded to himself and mused aloud, "I suppose I should practice control, I don't need to mate constantly, that would be nonsense." The slave looked up at him and smiled, as if he were praising her. No, he would definitely leave it behind.

Itlahtuk worked well into the night, and refrained by force of will alone, from spending himself in the slave. Sometime around dawn with his stomach aching and bladder full to bursting, he laid himself down in bed, and closed his eyes. He would return to his sister mid day and spend himself there, where his seed belonged. As his mind drifted away into sleep, the itch of hunger just grew and grew in him as the back of his mind whispered depraved ideas to his dreams.

His dreams twisted into nightmare, a strange and distorted nightmare, where he was his own Mother. Yet, he was happy, his need so great, he didn't care if animal, beast, slave, or Dragon used him. He couldn't see anyway, his eyes taken, his tongue taken, his arms, legs, wings, and tail removed. This was his life, and he was content in it. The heat in his loins burned like the sun, only quenched when one he worshiped penetrated and spent himself within.

Itlahtuk woke suddenly as a claw closed on his muzzle and pinned it to the stone of his bed chamber. Other claws held him down, not gently either. "Wh-wha?" He tried to get out, but his muzzle was crushed down and lips forced closed.

"Shut it," a voice said, male, aggressive, and older. One of his brothers.

"I thought he was male?" Another voice asked.

"Doesn't smell male, does she?"

"No, god she smells good though. I feel like I'm drunk!"

Someone laughed. Itlahtuk's thighs were jerked open and tail pulled flat. His vent was on fire, swollen, and he was as damp as a swamp from ribs to knees to tail tip. The pressure in his bladder remained, but it was a rock hard pressure, not the liquid heat that rolled through his stomach now. This was new, this was alien, this was...

The eldest thrust, Itlahtuk's thoughts fell apart into a mix of pleasure, confusion, and terror. His brother's vast erection felt like a tree, the stiff barbs prickled like pine needles as they sank past his puffy folds and scratched the length of his passage. Instead of down, into his male passage, he thrust up, into... into something he had never realized he even had. Like any other being, he had voided himself of solid waste, but he had never considered where it came from, and why it didn't come from the same passage as liquid waste.

As confused and scared as he was, he couldn't escape the pleasure of that first thrust. His brother hilted, mashed cloaca to cloaca, and jerked his hips once to set his barbs in. Itlahtuk felt it, a sharp, stabbing pain deep in his passage as the sharp points sank into flesh and bit home. It sent a shock of something unnervingly pleasant up his spine, it was wrong, the whole situation was wrong. His brother didn't thrust, didn't rock or jerk, just stayed there, buried as deep as he could go.

A few moments passed in silence, then Itlahtuk's vaginal cloaca began to clench. The clenches were weak at first, and yet drove the spines deep into flesh, into muscle. Blood wept into his passage as he tore himself. The damage only made his clenches harder. His stomach rippled hard and his hips rose involuntarily to buck against his brother. What was he doing? Why couldn't he stop? Try as he might, he couldn't restrain himself, couldn't resist the hunger that gnawed in his guts... No, not his guts, his womb.

The terror truly struck then as the cold reality washed through his veins. He had a womb, he had a womb and he was in heat. His scent had driven all his brothers into a frenzy, they couldn't resist. And... and when Father came home! "Ohnuhh..." he cried between smothered lips just as his brother roared, jammed his hips down, and began to release.

The hot flood of seed felt wonderful. The throb of his brother's spire within left him writhing and squirming towards his own helpless orgasm. He'd never felt one like this, never this slow build. Though his first orgasm had only been a week before, he hadn't expected to find something so new so soon!

Itlahtuk climaxed as his brother raped him. His womb was bathed in seed, and his heart in misery. The elder jerked his hips again and retracted his barbs. The pain faded some, the unwelcome pleasure did not. The eldest climbed off and another took his place. The quad knotted spire slammed home, stretched his passage to it's limit, and left him roaring helplessly in pleasure as he bucked and thrashed.

One after another, they took their turns and made him a woman grown. He wept between cries of pleasure. They no longer held him down, and he did not resist. He knew his place, knew what he craved more than life itself, and they gave it to him, bathed his uterus in fertile life. He worshiped them with his body, even as the small fragment of his mind remained detached and watching. They were not his equal, not his betters, they would not break him!

His lips opened wide as a younger brother mounted his face. The sticky sweet filthy taste of his unwashed cloaca filled his senses. He should have been horrified, should have vomited, clawed, or bit. He swallowed and suckled while another took his place against his tailbase. He felt like he belonged here, his purpose. He loved every second of it nearly as much as he hated it. Hormones controlled him, violent, intense hormones that gave him no room for free action. A puppet perched on the cock of every single one of his brothers.

Semen gushed against his tongue, sour and salty. He buried his muzzle in his brother's vent and licked deep as he swallowed. His own nethers and thighs were stained with blood, filth, lust, and semen, fur caked and entrance raw. Urine hit the back of his throat and he clamped his lips to swallow every last drop of his brother's mark. He would reek of it for weeks, the scent compounds would flow through his bloodstream and leak from between his scales particle by particle.

Itlahtuk's thighs remained unoccupied, his vent gaping, but no longer used. Bladder drained, the elder brother departed, spent. Another climbed atop his face and mashed his muzzle inside. The short, fat penis pressed between his lips and talon like barbs unsheathed to claw at the inside of his gums. He moaned, a moan that cut off with a gargle as his second eldest brother took his turn. Itlahtuk drank, his mind breaking. The mingled hormones, pheromones, and scent marks left him confused. Who did he worship? Who did he belong to?

He became their toilet, each mark compounding. The scenting glands of his two dozen brothers left their essence in his bloodstream and reek in his fur. He did not remember when it ended, or even most of the events of the day when he again awoke. There were only foggy bits and pieces embedded deep in his psyche. He felt altered, not unlike what he had done to the human, or his elder sister.

At that thought, he opened his eyes. "Ash," He said aloud and tried to rise, but his body was too weak. Every muscle was strained, every joint felt dislocated. He still did not feel wholly himself either, the heat had quenched, but his mind had been twisted beyond familiarity. He called to his... his... His what? His mate? That detached part of himself analyzed even as the rest of him simply felt. He felt the hungering need for a strong male, not sexual, but desperately emotional. He needed to build a nest, needed someone to care for him as he cared for their young.

He felt such a deep self loathing in that moment, a disgust beyond rational thought. How could he care for his own mate, for Ash, like this? He knew without a doubt that life had kindled in the womb he had never known he possessed. He despised it, the life, and his his brothers. He wanted to rip his own stomach open and toss the organs from the room in a fit of madness. Self-control reasserted itself before he went to such extremes, he was not an animal, he was not a lower being, he was a scion of Kuthalti, one of the best of them!

Slowly, painfully, he rolled onto all fours and tried to stand. He managed it. Sour cum poured from under his tail and soaked his dry crusty fur anew. His vent hung agape, and no matter how much he clenched, he couldn't get it to close. "So be it," he muttered. Step by step he made his way from the chamber. Someone was coming, he could feel their presence, and a part of him perked up, expecting his mate. He crushed that part just as one of his brothers came around the bend. The scent of lust hit him shortly afterword and he could see the swell of dark flesh under the male's tail. He wanted a round two.

Panic set in, desperate, terrified panic. He couldn't surrender, not again, especially not when not in heat. He was pregnant enough already! He would not let it happen while sober and sane! His stomach clenched and a heat spread through is lower half. His body was eager, even broken and abused as it was. Helplessly his tail rose and tossed aside. It was his eldest brother, come to assert his dominance. Itlahtuk could feel it, feel the psychic menace radiate off him. Father wasn't home and Ash was missing, so he was fully authorized to treat his younger siblings as he pleased.

Itlahtuk whimpered with a glance back and forth, as if he could find some escape, some way to avoid what was coming. "Oh, awake are we? Wonderful! The place still reeks of you, can't get you out of my nose! Now come over here and be a good little girl for me."

He rose onto his hind legs and propped himself up with a foreclaw on the wall. His erection swung into view, barbs flexed, and a rivulet of brilliant blue precum splattered onto the floor. Itlahtuk's mouth watered and depths clenched with that confused hunger again. His words compelled, his display urged, then the scent of his seed hit and control was lost entirely. The control over his rage.

His mind opened like human artillery and laid waste to the thoughts of the larger dragon. Shimmering blue eyes opened wide and fixed briefly on him, then lost their focus entirely. His bladder loosed onto the floor, his grip on the wall faltered, and he fell onto his side and didn't move. Life persisted, his heart beat, his organs continued on their inevitable clockwork, but the mind that had once ruled them, was a tattered wasteland. Itlahtuk had struck with every breath of fury within his raped and abused mind. His thoughts were a sharpened scalpel, a well made tool, honed on years of practice. His brother had been a brute, a brawler, his thought shield little more than a screen door against assault.

Horror did not set in immediately after destroying the elder's mind. Itlahtuk had felt every fiber of his brother's ego shattered, had experienced every moment of mind death as if it were his own. Four heartbeats passed in his brother's chest before it landed. He vomited upon the stone floor, stale urine and bile gushed free. Panic grew deeper, trauma left him near mindless, barely an animal. He fled from his home, fled toward the darkness beyond the warmth of den.

Only a small, huddled figure stopped him, she wasn't even recognizable, a human bloated beyond reason, yet she was still alive, crawling towards the open air with blood running from her gaping vagina. Had they raped her too? No, he had raped her, repeatedly, this was his doing. Yes, she was his! He slammed a forepaw down upon her head and shoulders. Her skull popped like an eggshell under his toes, blood, brains, and flesh splattered across the wall and floor in lines extending from between.

His flight continued in a blind panic, he didn't know where he was going, only that he had to get there, had to escape, had to before... There was a mental ripple, a shudder in the surface of reality felt only faintly. But the presence, the monstrous presence that had been vacated all these weeks, had returned. Itlahtuk felt his Father come home. Too soon, too soon!

"Ash!" He screamed, a shrill sound, then at last remembered he could fly, and took off into the air.

Chapter 7: Father's Displeasure

He was mad, furious, panicked, and all together impossible to understand. Itlahtuk had returned, but the feral look in his eyes and chaos of his mind and turned the sweet and gentle boy into a thing to fear. Yet as he reached out with blood soaked paw, his touch was gentle still, timid even. "Ash? Ash... Father..."

"I know, I felt him. Are we too late?"

He considered, the wild look faded slightly as his analytical mind processed. Then he shook his head, "I need time, but... but... Oh Ash! I'm not a man!"

She looked up at him with bafflement, "What? Of course you are, you've sired me full enough to bursting, what is this nonsense?"

"I am... I am... I don't know. I am pregnant, I went into heat in my chamber and they... they..." The panic returned to his eyes, a fear so deep she could feel it radiate off him even with her mind closed.

"Hush now, I know what they did." She reached up and took his face in her paws and drew his muzzle to her throat, "Hush. It's over, we're done with this hell. You will complete the ritual before Father finds us, and we will never look back. If you are pregnant, we will care for our children together. They never even need know that you laid their eggs."

He sighed, trembled, relaxed, then tensed all in a span of seconds. "Oh Ash, I love you... I love you so much." He clung to her, cutting off air for a moment.

She pushed him back and rose onto all four, belly dragging in the dirt. "And I love you too, but we must go, now."

He nodded abruptly and scampered back. His wide eyed panic returned, but there was something more to it then mindless terror now. "Yes, yes you are right. Follow. The next hill over has a suitable cave, some place with enough stone to etch the ritual."

She smiled at him and projected as much comfort and calm as she could, even as she dragged herself after at an impossible pace. Within her, their children fought and struggled for dominance, eager to be born, eager to live a life of freedom and hope. She did her best to calm them as well, but they could feel their father's turmoil.

They reached the cave, not much of one, but enough. Immediately Itlahtuk laid claw to stone and began to etch the markings in that would channel and focus his ritual. Ash wished she could help speed it along, but she barely understood the basics, so she simply stayed out of the way at the mouth of the cave and waited.

Time passed, the etchings spread from the center outward, then inward again. The walls were marked in even patterns, strange lines linked things irregularly, but formed some sort of sense. She grew sleepy as she watched, the children stilled their quarrels, and she settled to the stone to nap. She was so hungry too, but there was nothing to eat now, where ever they were going, they would have to find their next meal there.

She was on the cusp of dream, something pleasant and hopeful. Every hope came crashing down though the moment she heard the trees crash behind her and the heavy paws strike earth. Only one being weighed that much, only one creature would sneak up on a dragon so loudly. Her heart sank, and she gave one last glance towards her beloved brother and turned.

"I can smell you, daughter. You thought to hide, thought to escape, but the stench of your need drifts on the wind far and wide. You left home in such a mess!"

"Father," Ash said quietly and rose to her feet before him. She stepped forward, away from the cave entrance, away from Itlahtuk. He thought she was the one in heat, thought she had taken flight. Of course he had, and of course Itlahtuk had been too panicked to cover up his scent. "It is my time then, isn't it."

"Perhaps you will live, perhaps you will survive to bare a clutch or two?" His silver eyes stared with such greedy intensity. Already his erection was exposed, vast in comparison to her, yet small on his frame, short, stubby, and covered in huge talon like barbs that flexed and clenched in the air. She had seen it so many times, watched it spill into her mother.

"As you well know, I am too young, too small. You will kill me just as you killed Flamme and so many before her. If you had any patience, you would wait for me to grow, at least then I might be of some use." She spoke calmly, factually, and futility. There was not an ounce of self control in her Father. No sense of right or wrong, only need, his needs, his plans, his designs. His goal of irradiating all life that he deemed foul continued apace only through determination and incredible genius. She respected him, even as she feared him, but she knew him too.

"Ah, who needs patience? I can make a thousand more of you, a million more, an infinite number of vessels suited for my seed." He laughed aloud and stepped forward and planted both fore paws upon the hill above her, "You do not struggle, not like the others, but your words are like a bird trapped in a cage. Yet you are no rare bird, you are but a sparrow, as countless as blades of grass upon this hill. I will not mourn you, not like her..." a trickle of tears ran down his cheeks as he stared at the young dragoness. "You could never be her, no matter how old. Spread your legs for me child, and die like a dutiful daughter." Even as his tears fell, his cock throbbed and spat a glowing stream of blue semen upon the soil. Flames leapt up where it touched. Soil burned black, dew wet rock cracked and split.

She looked up into her father's crying eyes, then surrendered. This was her purpose, anyway, why she had been born. To give her father a mere moment of pleasure to quell the pain in his broken heart. Quietly she whispered, "I'm sorry Took, forgive me," then laid back and spread her hind legs.

"Such a good girl, I raised you right, didn't I?" He asked, a smile through his tears, madness in his eyes.

"Yes Father, you raised me right." His penis jumped again and spilled a stream of glowing seed upon her gravid belly. Her fur flared up, her skin charred, and flesh sizzled. She closed her eyes as the shock of pleasure washed through her. Again she whispered, "Thank you Took," for what he had altered in her mind. She moaned aloud and arched her back, her dark vent bulged and gaped slightly.

He lost control then, the erotic sight of his daughter's eager sacrifice was too much. He rammed his hips down, slammed the massive phallus home. There was a sick crackling sound as her pelvis shattered in a dozen places, and spine popped out of place. He thrust sharply and buried himself vent to vent in his daughter. Her ribs broke as his terrible length ripped organ and flesh. He jerked back once, barbs sliced through her like a hundred knives. Her children died, her organs were shredded, her lower belly was sliced open in numerous places.

She stared up at her Father, a beast she hated more than anything else in the world, then looked away as a terrible orgasm washed through her serene mind. Pain turned pleasure broke the last ounce of sanity as her father buried in once more, then roared. He only thrust twice, once to destroy, once to climax. His semen burst free, steam vented from rents in her ruined body. Her chest glowed, her throat, flesh cooked from within. She looked toward the cave entrance, yearning desperately to see her mate one last time. Steam and a splatter of cooked flesh erupted from her gaping maw followed by a torrent of super-heated ejaculate.

Itlahtuk looked up from his etching, he had felt something horrible, something incomprehensible. Ash's mental cry had been tender and forlorn, and terribly short. He hadn't even heard her get up to leave. But now, now as he focused outward, he could feel his father's presence, so near, and the nauseating lack of presence from his mate. "No... No!" he cried aloud in anguish.

Father heard, not only the audible cry, but the mental shock of his Son's loss. Words echoed in from beyond the cave mouth, "Oh ho, so she was not alone? Who is that there... Ahhh my prodigy, my favorite scion! Did you come seeking your sister's heat even before I?" A shadow darkened the cave entrance, and Itlahtuk looked on in horror at the macabre decoration adorning his father's erection. Blackened and smoking, his sister's corpse hung crumbling to ash.

Kuthalti's muzzle jammed itself into the cave entrance, shining silver-blue eyes stared straight into his son's and their minds clashed. To the Father's shock, the scion deflected the mental blow with reflexes he'd never anticipated. Itlahtuk did not retort, his shock gone in an instant and his most complex mental shield in place, he returned to his etchings. A scratch here, a line there. He dragged his tail in a circle with a bit of stone in a coil to complete a sweep.

"Going somewhere my precious boy? My... oh.. Oh oh!" Kuthalti's nostrils flared as he dragged in a great breath, taking the mingled scents upon his son's body, "My daughter? Oh what a pleasant day, not one but two matured fruit to pluck from the family tree! Will you be as accommodating as your luscious sister?" His grin split stone as his cheeks pressed the cave entrance wider. He rammed his head in, horns scraped and scratched. "You do smell so very delectable! The whole family had their go with you, wonderful, just wonderful."

Faster and faster, Itlahtuk scraped scratched clawed and stroked. He lashed out with his mind, not to maim or fight, but his mind worked the stone at a rate far faster than his nimble paws. Golden creases formed in the stone where he evaporated raw matter to plumes of plasma. Panic beyond panic, he felt cold, silent, and focused. He had never imagined fear so complete, yet it did not touch him. At last he looked up into his father's eyes as he deflected another mental attack.

Kuthalti's strength was incredible, mind, body, and magic. There was nothing to compare, nothing came close to the awesome might of his Father. Yet, with a gentle nudge, a careful bit of mental gymnastics, Itlahtuk assured each blow would miss. He pressed his claw into the air, through the air. Reality rippled between him and his Father as his digits dug into something meant only for gods.

Kuthalti saw the end, his good cheer vanished into a insane fury, "You will not escape me child, you are mine, you are of me, and will return to me when and where I choose!" Lightning crackled between his teeth as he spoke. If a single spark struck any part of the diagram, it would be over. Father inhaled, lighting wreathed his jaws and inner throat, light shone from within his breath. Then he exhaled.

Itlahtuk twisted his wrist and warped his mind. Reality warped, the plume of super-heated plasma fractured into prismatic fractals along with the world. Itlahtuk fell into darkness, twisted, fell into agony as his cells began to fail, twisted, burst through fire, frost, into an ocean with a very surprised school of fish, into the air high above a mountain range, into nothingness so complete that it clawed at the mind and tried to get inside. He twisted, he twisted again, he bent his will to reality and plucked in blind panic from point to point, through impossible hellscapes to idyllic heavens and beyond. Behind him, his father's rage followed, a mental search light fixed upon his jumps. He had to change, had to become something new, something other!

Itlahtuk twisted again, inside and transformed. The violence of his act threw him off balance. Father's eye nearly found him again, he twisted the world, he twisted himself, he twisted reality, he twisted his mind. In the end, he fell face first into a puddle of swamp water not unlike the one his sister had pleasured him in. He didn't know who he was, where he was, why he was. He couldn't remember what he had been doing. Even the emotions of his flight faded to a muddled unease.

Slowly he raised his head from the muck. He was in a swamp, a very different swamp, yet recognizable for what it was. He hated swamps. Oh how he hated swamps. Ash had loved them, loved the feel of mud between her toes, of damp fur heavy with muck. "Ash," he said aloud, and that single word brought everything crashing back in. He collapsed with an anguished cry, mental and verbal. The entire swamp stilled as the young dragon slipped from awareness into a dreamless stupor.

Far away in another universe, plasma melted rock and lit an entire swamp on fire. Breath after breath, the dragon raged. The fire he lit burned beyond the reach of the eye, beyond the limits of the sky. The entire world kindled. None should be capable of escape, none should be able to resist! He was God of this universe, unparalleled! Yet the filthy child had escaped! His mind rejected this, rejected such an impossibility. No, the child hadn't been born yet, no, no child had existed, no, no, no. No, he needed to sire another, needed to replace the thing that never existed.

With the land on fire and sky smoke filled after his tantrum, he returned to his den. His children were dying or dead. The Mother lay gasping as her head tossed to and fro and lungs heaved. This wouldn't do, he had made the world uninhabitable. He twisted reality just as his... thing that never existed did... and wrenched the entire mountain from it's roots. He dislocated it and himself to another world, a world where oxygen remained. Mother settled, though her crimson scales had dulled some. In the distance a child cried hoarsely.

His rage turned to lust as he laid eyes upon his precious vessel. He dropped into the breeding chamber and atop the Mother. She had once had a name, once been something outside of himself, outside of his all encompassing purpose. He refused to think of those days, of anything that could possibly exist beyond himself. He sank his spire into her, bladder full to bursting with molten hot seed. He clenched, she screamed, his barbs sank into tough scarred flesh and held. His ejaculate blasted home and scalded the elder red. She did not burn, did not die like his pathetic daughters. He grinned to himself as his orgasm continued. There was a whole new world of possibilities out there!

Chapter 8: Epilogue

His eyes opened slowly upon unfamiliar light. It was too blue, too bright to be sunlight, but it was. There was an unfamiliar species of woman before him, bent over his face with a rag in hand. Their eyes met, and he felt the alien sense of her, so unfamiliar that he couldn't even read her thoughts, but the emotions were clear. Concern, a little fear, a lot of curiosity. She reached up to clutch at the side of her head and a hissing language issued forth as she fought him out of her mind. She failed, but he obliged and retreated to his own thoughts.

She relaxed and sat down at his side upon a stool. Her dark gray green scales and bright yellow eyes were strange to, but reminded him of his Mother in a way. He reached out with a fore paw and placed it gently against the woman's breast. A heart beat thudded under his touch, faster than he would have expected, but familiar. She was real, she was alive, and she meant him no harm. He began to relax.

Memories came and went, but there was a void, a place he did not let his mind touch, a name that he refused to utter. The wound was too fresh, his heart unready to face it. He had bigger problems anyway. His other paw he laid upon his own, gravid stomach. He sighed and said aloud, "Well I'm fucked." The irony of his words took a moment to reach him, then he laughed, the first laugh in what felt like an eternity. A moment later the ache in his bladder gave him something else to be concerned about and his vent began to swell with lust. "Huh, I wonder how well you are going to take this, little lady?" He asked the reptilian woman, then rose onto all fours above her.

End

10/11/2020

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