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Treats and Mind-Tricks

Volume 2, Epilogue 2 of Yes, Commodore

For TeryxC by DolphinSanity

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"C'mon Teryx! Let's go!"

Coming to himself as if snapping out of a dream, Teryx looked at the two guys he was with: a lithe albino fox wearing a gray werewolf kigu, and a beefier tiger dressed up as Agent Fang: Super Spy, complete with faux tuxedo, an exaggeratedly huge red flower, and a treat bucket suspended from gadget utility belt.

Harry? ...No, that wasn't Harry. This was a white tiger, not a typical orange one.

Something felt... off. The rain dragon put a fuzzy paw to the side of his head. Was he having a fit of amnesia? He felt connected to these guys, for sure, but he didn't remember their names -- leaving him struck with this jarring mix of familiarity and disorientation.

The fox-wolf grabbed him by the hand. "C'mon, love, let's go~"

Love? And... wolf. For some reason he felt more connected to the wolf character than to the fox leading him out of the flat and down to the street. This wasn't Teryx's flat, either... nor his neighborhood. Teryx lived somewhere else, across town.

More to the point, whereas the others were wearing costumes, Teryx was only done up in a wasn't wearing a loose-fitting casual shirt, shorts, and sandals that made a good display of his fine legs. All three of them were carrying trick-or-treat buckets, Teryx included, so where was his costume...? Had he decided not to wear one?

He walked with them, masking his uncertainty for now, but he did his best to wrack his brain and come up with how he had gotten here.

He learned by context that the fox was called Marcus and the tiger Devon. Upon hearing their names, he started to put some strands of memory together... something about, he had been on a date with the fox... no, several dates. Hadn't he?

The memories effervesced rather than coalesced. This uncertainty was deeply unsettling -- far spookier than the holiday.

Also... they were all like, university-aged. Wasn't he older? Teryx could have sworn he was older. He was a suitably successful white-collar office worker who also happened to have won the handsomeness lottery and then invested those winnings effectively to make himself even more so: diet, exercise, and socializing...

Yes, that was definitely right. That all sounded as normal as a slice of golden-browned toast. So how...?

He ran a hand through his mane in a sort of pensive tic -- feeling behind his neck and up along the head. Kind of stiff... too much hair gel, likely. An easy mistake to make when one was in a hurry... or in not such a great state of mind due to being mentally messed up in some way. He really hoped there wasn't foul play involved here. Though, if someone was going to use some kind of elaborate scheme to drug him on Halloween, wasn't it the stock plot to drug the candy, not something that came beforehand?

Maybe these guys didn't use stock plots. Or, more to the point, maybe they weren't plotting against him at all, and he was deeply confused for some other reason.

Either way, he let himself stay calm and gather information. It was a nice, cooling night out -- the temperature quelled by a nice rain that had blanketed the area earlier, pushing back against the heat of the tropical climate.

Their candy-seeking route was a largely private and pre-planned affair, routing them to the homes and families of friends... all of whom Teryx didn't recognize. There was a family of cutely bespectacled rats, with whom Marcus had been close friends as a child. An older bachelor grizzly who had big chubby-bottom-dad energy, but who limited himself to giving them some peanut butter candies. He caught that the latter was a friend of Devon's parents, and of Devon himself to a lesser degree.

Most of these stops involved a lift ride up to someone's flat. On occasion, they were able to bounce around to multiple homes within the same larger residential building, from time to time coming across others who were similarly engaged -- costumed, bucket-carrying, and having a fun night on the town. Occasionally they would see a door left open and a larger party going on. Nothing too wild, but festivities nonetheless.

It wasn't until the third building of trick-or-treating that Teryx opened his mouth and said, "Hey, Greg! Give us your candy! Give it!!" -- as if he knew the person (which he definitely didn't) and shrieking pushily about candy was some kind of inside joke between them. He never would have said it that way, either, but he found himself saying it with about as much free will as a ventriloquist's dummy.

There's no time for inside jokes, Teryx, a voice in the back of his head admonished him, adding to his perplexity.

Greg was a ferret: a lanky, black and white tube of a man. He was utterly excited by what he saw: "Oh, wow! I can't believe you're going as Teryx! That's really bold of you."

A university-aged snow leopard entered from behind, dressed as some sort of purple-robed and gold-masqued spellcaster from some fantasy setting that Teryx didn't immediately recognize. Some sort of theatrical-looking spellcaster type. The snep was laughing at the in-joke as he approached. "Hey, mom! I'm going out with Gerald and the others. They're here."

The name Gerald almost rang a bell but didn't. It was like the meaning was on the tip of Teryx's tongue and refused to come off.

Marcus picked that inopportune moment to reach up and stroke at Teryx's hair, which drew an immediate "hands off" deflection from the ever so slightly perturbed dragon.

"Personal space," he said curtly. Marcus shrugged it off and didn't push the issue.

When there was no response from "mom," the snep slinked back out of view and opened a door. There was a sound of frantic gamer-clicking from the other room -- indistinct mumbling, and then a louder call from a woman's voice: "Sure sweetie, be back by curfew!"

Gamer mom. Lucky bastard. Or maybe not? It reinforced how little he knew about these people.

Teryx ran a finger up to his left ear and whisked the tip around the lobe. Sort of a casual gesture, letting off some stress as he waited. Greg the ferret grabbed the whisked ear in reply and jiggled it. A strange elation ran through Teryx; both laughed, and the others snickered. It didn't look like Greg was coming with them, but he was bringing out a bucket of individually wrapped chocolates which he was generously shaking in order to add contents to their buckets. The snep was out the door a minute later -- Greg waved bye, shut it, and...

And they all set off in lockstep. Marcus, Devon, Teryx, the snep -- all moving along like little soldiers, left and right and left and right. When they noticed they were walking too similarly, they chuckled about it and made various pointing gestures and finger guns while making knowing groans and "Ahhh"s at each other -- again, like it was all just some gag they were all in on -- and then broke up their movements a bit from then on.

Teryx touched his own face. He was starting to have an existential crisis. Not knowing the snep's name wasn't helping. Also... "Going as" Teryx...?

Gods... why did that phrase make him feel so... low-key horny? Like, this was the middle of a trick-or-treating session, and he wasn't going to whip it out and just start jacking it for the whole crew to see, but...

Bulge...

Going as Teryx. Going as THE Teryx. Just thinking about it in those terms was making his member ache behind the heavy obstruction of his garment.

He tugged at his shorts a bit, noticing that they were actually pretty removed from the bulge he was feeling. The tension was... behind them, closer to his body, not straining the shorts' fabric directly.

"Am I... not... Teryx?" He asked, self-aware of the bizarre sound of his question as they made their way to the fourth place.

The snep laughed like that was a good joke. "Of course you're Teryx!"

"You wear him very well, love," said Marcus.

Teryx nodded, patting his face to make sure it was really there. He just felt so... glad to be him. Being Teryx was very desirable, and he'd hate to be someone else when he could be the one and only Teryx.

Further down that same corridor, some badger friends of Greg's and the snep's provided them with a bunch of mixed treats but not as much conversation, though one of them shot Teryx a wink and an affirming gesture for his choice of costume, happily calling him, "Our one and only ORIGINAL rain dragon." He wasn't the only rain dragon, but... their original.

Bulge. Throb.

Yes, that was what was so alluring, wasn't it? By being Teryx, he was the beginning of all of this.

Throb... leak...

Oh! He was feeling quite lively... looking down, he was thankful he couldn't see the leaking in his shorts. They took the lift down -- about to hop on a bus for their next destination when...

Someone's phone alarm went off, set for an arbitrary time. They all reacted with grins and chuckling, like they knew what they meant. Teryx didn't know what it meant, but he was currently feeling too turned on at the idea of being Teryx to worry all too much about that.

They took a few steps away -- slinking into a darker cut between the residential complex and a nearby parking garage. Down a ramp, along a dividing wall with a known gap in surveillance cams.

Huuummmm...

The trick-or-treat crowd stopped in the dark. A sense of alertness ran through them. The snep asked the others if they felt that.

"I think it's 'treat' time," said Marcus, pulling back his kigu's head a bit to reveal his smug fox mug.

Teryx kept feeling hotter and hornier -- somehow immobilized, like for all of his status as a great and treasured rain dragon, he could do nothing but wait for this to play out. There should be a struggle here... he was sure Teryx would struggle, and yet the only struggle happening was the vivid pressure of his member against the inside of his...

Of his body.

Yes, that was what it must be.

"Since you're Teryx, you should do the honors," said Marcus, before kissing him on the snout. A sense of familiarity led Teryx to return the kiss -- with increasing passion, tilting sideways and kissing that long tongue the presented itself between his fuzzy dragon fangs.

"Thank you too, love..." Teryx whispered back. "Let's bring rains and plenty tonight~"

"I hear slugs like to come out when it rains," chirped the snep, quietly -- to laughter from the others.

"Yeah!" said Devon and Marcus in creepily perfect unison, both pivoting their heads to look at the snep.

Teryx scratched his hands across the fuzz of his abdomen... so soft yet tough, firm dragonscale under this dark blue fabric... fingering in close, running his digit up under the outer shirt that served as the reminder that he was perfectly normal, a perfectly normal office worker, hahaha...

The others set their buckets down and started undressing from the waist and lower, an orchestrated swell of arousal going through them. Marcus was soon bending over and scooting in, offering Teryx his rear, while Devon and the snep were starting to kiss and watch them. Just a casual fuck in the dark, in this neighborhood, in the place where no one would be right now -- all exhilarating, but all coordinated, too.

The rain dragon's bucket dropped to the pavement, his arm lowering.

Teryx... had to fuck Marcus. Right here, in the little street, with shops nearby. Protocol had been followed. It was safe for him to get hard and be Teryx... mount the fox... cause the rain dragon to orgasm...

He looked down at himself and released the piece that would allow his penis to emerge from his body.

For just an instant, his penis didn't look right. Humanoid in shape, with a brown-furred foreskin, rather than the ridged dragon flesh he had been expecting... but that little visual glitch was soon corrected. Teryx. He took a fond hold of his member and lined up behind the presenting vulpine, grinding -- the snep popping over to lube him up, and then Devon doing it too and making him honestly a little TOO soaked, but it was no matter... just another glitch in the harvesting.

Take him... whispered the voice in the back of his thoughts.

I have to take him, Teryx agreed. Teryx is in a dominant mood tonight...

Once, twice... three, and then hilt. Marcus was so practiced and ready to take him, and Teryx was so hard. The others came in around behind him, the snep fingering Teryx's left ear while the white tiger frotted against the small of his back.

"Easy, fellows... there's plenty of Teryx to go around..." uttered the dragon.

Yes. Exuberance. We will feast upon it.

He was the image they all craved -- touching him, grinding on him, leaking their pre like he was some ancient sex-idol that needed to be kissed with their fluids to ensure the rains would continue to fall. Meanwhile, the fox was quietly groaning, just taking it from him right there and shivering as the pleasure grew.

"Next time," said Devon, "I wanna be Teryx...

"You're too big to be Teryx," squeaked the snep.

"Yeah, but I'm just the right size," Teryx said without intending to. "Mmm, perfect Teryx size, because it's my size..."

Flash. He remembered soft brown fingers, slipping inside of his hollow form. A fuzzy face, filling the flexible interior of his own. His body, like limp latex, surrounding and covering the one wearing him...

Hands. Legs. Even his member. Toys and costume, all lovingly recreated -- with optional, open-and-close port for using the host's own member.

A cultural tradition. A collective memory. Something to make the secret rulers within each head feel at peace. There must be a Teryx. On a night like tonight, when anyone could be whatever they wanted -- a monster a hero, a divinity -- surely one of them per hive-group could choose to be Host Zero himself.

It was worth it. It was everything he had remembered it could be -- even in this pale imitation, he was becoming Teryx, existing as Teryx, fucking as Teryx and milking Teryx...

It felt so good to be Teryx and to be on top like this. Who could say, though -- perhaps, in a moment, he would go down on bottom for one of the others, and then he would be on top again. They would enjoy the qualities of Teryx, the glistening mane and the iridescent rainbow-tail. The hair... he could feel the faux hair being caressed by the tiger claws, now.

He... he truly was Teryx. A costume of Teryx. A host's host. Just as the rulers wore hosts, hosts could wear costumes, a deeper nesting of safety, mask behind mask...

In this swirl of nesting, it didn't matter who was the host and who was the master... because both were Teryx. Both were -- dare they think it -- Commodore Teryx, the progenitor of their influence upon this planet.

Teryx came, his species-ambiguous seed flowing into his fox partner, filling him up.

In the twinkling of his orgasm, a random thought strayed in: that other name... Gerald... had that been...

No. He was Teryx.

He pulled out, still twitching. Watching the drops flow from that almost-sacred pink tip of his. Their rain dragon. Theirs, to wear and to use.

Even if he would take Teryx off. Eventually. Eventually, this very night, he wouldn't be Teryx anymore.

S... still...

"And now it's time for Teryx to be on bottom," cooed the snep, as if reading from the same script as the dragon's own thoughts.

The tiger shoved Teryx aside, against a well-shadowed wall. He quietly roared -- a whispered sound of a regal predator's protest. One owned by a controlling force from far beyond, but no less lovely for it. He would show himself. He would spread himself. He would look his penetrator in the eyes as he was taken like this... that little spark of defiance still burning in his gaze, the flame now controlled and directed -- servicing their will and adding spice to their feastings.

"Someone dares to tame the dragon?" Teryx asked him, even as that shaft plumbed its way inside of him.

Devon was a hunk and a great guy too. He remembered that much, now... Devon and Gerald liked to fool around even before they became part of this greater family.

Gerald... dammit. It had slipped in through the cracks of his "Teryx mood," but he didn't have the time or gumption to fix it right now. His host was on fire with pleasure, feeding him so much as that tiger ploughed him and the exhilaration of being Teryx continued to trigger strong releases of all the right hormones and neurochemistry.

The snep settled into jerking himself while licking Teryx's ear, almost tongue-fucking it. "I want to get inside you next," he growled. Meanwhile, the tiger's member was doing precisely that from behind.

Teryx raked his hands against the wall -- producing no sound and minimal scraping, and feeling his right glove twist awkwardly. The illusion wasn't perfect, but it didn't have to be right now. He could sync with this host so deeply that he could, for just these precious moments, enjoy the dream for what it was... this impossible hunger that burned in the depths of all of Commodore's offspring, imprinted into their nature by the inescapable truth that the dragon had been their first host on this world.

"That's it," Teryx murmured. "Serve my needs... mpph... a body this fine should be enjoyed by one of similar caliber..."

The tiger went harder, jackhammering him -- making Teryx clench and breathe harder.

Teryx experiences please. Teryx swells for us. Teryx cums for us.

There was a strange little yowl from the host inside. From the flesh inside the suit.

Teryx is Host Zero. All will remember Teryx. All will desire Teryx.

There was a growl... the tiger blowing deep inside. Warmth and adoration, flowing in equal measure into his depths -- venerating the dragon's idolatrous shape.

The snep moved into position then, and Teryx began the fellation -- licking, tasting, encouraging that leaking erection to let go of what it had been building up. The taste sprayed across his tongue a moment later... that one never tended to last long when adoring an image of Teryx like this.

Marcus was up again, shaky after the pentathlon and filling but not yet done -- jerking himself. "Let me give mine to the mask."

Teryx nodded. "Yes, cum for your rain dragon..."

By which he really meant, "Cum for the alien symbiotes inhabiting each of our brains, so that they may feast upon our neurochemistry and grow fat for budding." -- but they all were very much on the same page about that. (At least, the symbiotes controlling the hosts were.)

Teryx was their focal image. By loving the rain dragon, they helped the whole, and it was so easy for most hosts to be attracted to him rather than the appearance of a little slug.

Marcus shivered and blew his load, the hot wetness peppering across the face of the dragon mask.

"Fff.... Aaaah..."

Teryx was hard again, rubbing his host's cock.... Yes, that was really what this was... he was the image of Teryx, and he was the symbiote controlling him: milking, feeding from the dragon...

Pleasure shocked the host's brain. This was it... this was the zone, the level of identity subsumption that could keep him going for days. No Gerald, all Teryx, all puppeteer within and Teryx-puppet outside.... no body-host in between. Just slug and costume. Just, dare he think it again? Commodore Teryx.

He ejaculated a second time, pleasure writhing like some ancient serpent within his brain. So good. The others moaning, their masters feeding -- a twitching and collective bliss that were not of this world, not quite.

"Teryx..." Devon moaned, before cumming deep inside. And with that simple saying of the name, he let his body take its course, helping the dragon to get full...

Some moments later, a second alarm sounded from the same phone. Their ten-minute break from their festivities had come to an end. It was a splendid and efficient feeding

Slurping and cleaning each other, they prepared to resume normalcy. Though, it would be hard to perform normalcy without suspicion if they continued to have the scent of sex. Fortunately, their next stop was a friendly gym in this neighborhood, whose facilities they could use to get clean. If other friends were in need, they could also feed on the image of Teryx, pleasing themselves while the group went through.

He could even remove his costume-self from Gerald here and let someone else wear him while Gerald showered... yes, perpetuating the image...

Perpetuation of Host Zero was good. He imagined shedding his dragon self onto the others -- taking them over, Teryxifying them...

Bulge. His member was hardening up once more. Such a good vessel -- obedient to his cravings, just as Teryx should be.

The blending of fantasy and reality was dizzying -- a banquet for the slug within. Teryx fingered his own ear again -- straightened his mane's neckline.

"Shower time," cooed Teryx, still casually rubbing his massive dragoncock while the others continued to clean him up. "We will also check out these candies."

"I like candies," said the other three hosts in perfect unison, before they headed in lockstep toward the gym.

Silly them, doing things a little too perfectly again. Fortunately, it could be forgiven in this instance. Their kind were entering a new era, when they could more freely be what they were in more places. This was desirable; they would protect this new ease.

As he tucked his penis back into the suit, Teryx had no way of knowing whether this sense of being "him" would persist. As his host-vessel walked inside and prepared to get clean... when would "Teryx" cease to be, however temporarily?

When the time came for him to shower... he took off his hands... feet... tail. Revealing the rather tall otter body underneath. With each piece removed, he took off a bit more of himself. Unplugging from another bit of the image of Teryx -- making that part ready for the next one to wear. Chest, feet.... Not much left now, was there?

He reached up and out his otter-puppet's hands behind the ears, teasing them one last time before he pulled the mask free.

* * *

Teryx woke with a start. It was dark. He checked his phone. A message from his boyfriend Harry:

you coming trick-or-treating, man? It's getting late.

So it was. What a strangely... relatable dream.

Teryx responded, I would need time to get into my costume.

Harry: We're already super late. Just come as you are. These guys all wanna be you anyway...

Teryx gave his own snout a tug -- then, felt behind him for any straps or zippers.

No. All dragon. Right down to the heartbeat.

He tapped back, Sure... let's go together. Maybe more of the party and less of the trick or treating.

The answer: Sounds good. Great chance to make new friends and 'treat' existing ones~

Teryx set aside and stood up -- memories from the dream continuing to drift through his mind, associating naturally with other things. By bits and pieces, more of his awareness returned. More of the truth, or what he understood to be such.

He turned on the bathroom light and checked the mirror. He fingered the inside of his own ear again -- and produced a grimly dominant smirk.

For just a moment, he also felt the alien slug inside, looking back at him. He saw it in the way his smile curled that little bit too much, and in the way his eyes widened with a soul-piercing stare that was never necessary for a random person to direct at themselves in a mirror.

Such a nice dream that had been. A nice dream... of their future society.

Teryx righted his expression -- making it perfectly normal. The one within became an observer. He didn't know if this was currently Commodore, or one of the others, but for tonight's sake it didn't matter.

After all, on Halloween, one could be whatever they wanted.