FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

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**CONTENT WARNING**

The first half of this story contains a female TF, skin rip, with the same anal sex themes as my other pieces, plus some mild femdom material.

After the female TF is finished, the second half of the story contains a male TF, strong femdom material and explicit male anal sex themes including rimming and pegging.

If a man being given anal sex by a woman isn't appealing, you may wish to stop after reading the first half. Otherwise, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Please comment if you enjoy any part of the novella. It was easily a hundred hours of work to write it, and detailed comments are the biggest payoff at the end for any writer.

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The Knight and Dame Blackroot

Ever since summer's end, Sir Darius Blackroot had fallen into a depression as endless, flat and grey as the autumn morning sky. He'd taken to sitting by the windows of his hall, staring at the flat expanse of the firmament, all blanketed in flawless clouds. The sunlight scattered and dimmed until it seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere in the heavens, and its pale blue color cast coldly over his weather-beaten features, shadowing his neglected beard.

Dame Ivy Blackroot had tried her best to raise his spirits. With their chef, she'd devised sumptuous meals. With the packmaster, she'd organized hunts of wild stag. With a painter, she'd appealed to his vanity and had him rendered handsomely in his hero's armor.

In the bedroom, she'd done filthy things taught to her by the Madam of the village brothel, cleaning herself thoroughly, painting her eyes and lips, braiding her golden hair, applying slick oils, and then filling herself with his penis in ways that priests would call immoral, though the Madam had said that no man would refuse the chance "to have a woman's arse," to wrestle down a writhing, athletic svelte woman like Ivy, to pump her and hold her arms until she felt conquered, sexy, nearly orgasmic. Almost simultaneously, they'd cummed.

He'd grinned, however briefly, and lapped between her legs to extend her joy. She'd grabbed his mane of black hair and held him between her thighs until the shaking, cumming squirt was done, and both of them were surely satisfied in their carnal desires.

But the next day, his depression had only deepened, and he'd been unable to look at her without frowning. Ivy had been terribly upset, believing he thought her a harlot, but Darius seemed perceptive of her mood even in the throes of this dreadful spirit, this malaise. He'd cornered her alone in her private rooms and apologized for his foul behavior. He'd praised her beauty, and kneeled before her and thanked her for loving him in such depraved ways. Proud and glad and turned on by his attention, she'd lifted her skirt over his shoulders and rested against an armoire, again encouraging him to suck and lap at her clitoris until she cummed, a long slow wave of deep pleasure rolling through her groin.

Their sex life had improved ever since, but Darius's mood had never recovered, and when she finally questioned him, he did what she feared he'd do--he'd insisted that he was fine.

"There is much to think about," he'd said.

She'd stood beside him while he continued to stare at the cloudy autumn sky, waiting for him to elaborate, but he'd said nothing more. Worse, she'd been too afraid to ask for his thoughts, fearing that the thing that worried him most was their marriage.

Ivy wasn't of noble birth. She'd been saved by him nearly five years ago, when she was injured and lost in the deep marshland far north of Blackroot's manor. She'd come to live with him, come to love him, and then married him--but she'd never borne him a child.

Neither noble nor fertile, it seemed. A cursed wife for the dwindling Blackroot lineage. Sir Darius might love her, but his peers had been whispering to him about heirs, and those whispers had been loud enough to reach Dame Ivy's ears. Darius hadn't acted on them--he'd refused to even comment--but that's what scared Ivy.

She feared that he would have to divorce her and take another wife.

Now it was a week until the anniversary of their meeting, and more importantly, the anniversary of the day that Sir Darius Blackroot slew the dragon of the marsh.

She hoped the work of organizing the festivities would heal his worried heart.

"Darius?" she called to him, entering the hall.

Sir Darius grunted, eyes still turned to the blank grey sky.

"Darius," she said, stopping behind him. "I need your help."

He turned slowly to face her. "You do?"

Ivy forced a smile, feeling something awful in his gaze, as if he was searching for inauthenticity, as if her very greeting was being treated like a lie.

Darius's expression cleared, eyes visibly relaxing. "What needs my attention?"

"It's the week before the celebration," she said. "I need your help planning the feast."

"The feast..." Darius turned back to the window. "There's only a week left?"

"Seven days exactly," she said.

Darius put his face in his hands, as if his head ached. "Do you remember how I found you?" he asked to the flagstones underfoot. "Do you remember when I picked you up in my cloak?"

"I was in the dragon's hoard," Ivy said. "You woke me up."

"Did I?" he asked vaguely.

"I remember your face."

"I was the first person you saw then."

"The first person I could remember."

When they met, Darius had just slain and disposed of a black dragon that'd lived in the north marshes. Legends went that the creature had cursed the kingdom with famine, and Darius had been ordered on a suicide march by the king, tasked to fight the dragon and free the land from drought. Within minutes of burning the dragon's body, the rains had begun to fall again.

While sorting through the dragon's nest, they'd found her, nearly nude but for expensive bracelets, anklets and a necklace--five rings of solid gold hammered into place, impossible to remove without cutting them off her body. Speculation ran that she'd been a human sacrifice from the wildmen to the dragon, a desperate attempt to placate a powerful beast.

Regardless, some terrible curse had wiped away much of her memory. A marsh witch had accompanied Darius, and she'd detected poor Ivy's fate with ease--irreversible and thorough. Ivy's very name had been granted to her on the spot, a reference to the endless dark vines that'd cascaded down the trees in the grove of the dragon's nest.

Darius had named her and wrapped her in his cloak and carried her out of the grove.

"When did you fall in love with me?" Darius asked.

"At first sight," Ivy said.

Darius lifted his head and smiled, unable to help himself. "I pitied you."

"I know," Ivy said, "I remember. I also remember when you fell in love with me."

"When was that?" Darius asked.

"That night, by the bonfire, we talked for hours about your life."

"You asked all the right questions," Darius said, more to himself than her.

"You said I was the friend you needed most," Ivy said.

"It's true," Darius said, facing the window again.

"Do you love me still?" Ivy asked, her voice cracking a little.

Darius turned to look at her, and his face was drawn in grief. "Forever," he said, "but I've wronged you, Ivy. I've wronged you terribly."

She felt a chill shoot down her spine. She imagined him sleeping with another woman, a mistress to bear him an heir, and she felt her heart falling down into her belly, making her sick and pained and angry all at once, and then she heard herself ask, "Who is she?"

"Who is who?" Sir Darius asked.

"Who is your mistress?" Ivy asked, feeling tears well up in the corner of her eyes.

Darius was struck with shock. Then he jumped to his feet and grabbed Ivy by the shoulders and shouted, "Nobody!" He yanked her close, and she grabbed him around the waist and buried her head against his chest and burst into tears, sobbing and small compared to his warmth and strength. "Nobody," he repeated, wrapping her up in a hug, "I haven't strayed from you, dear Ivy, I haven't, I swear it on my soul."

And to her shock, she felt his chest shudder with a sob of his own, barely suppressed, for Darius too was crying. "I'll tell you what I've done," he said, "but I'll always love you, understand that. I'll always love you, sweet Ivy, lovely Ivy."

Dame Ivy wiped her eyes against his chest, feeling gross and childish for doing so. "It can't be bad," she said, "I know you. You've done good for me." She felt a blush creeping up her throat, past the gold ring about her neck. "You married me. You deserve better, but you married me."

"No, you deserve better," he said, pushing her back a step and gazing into her eyes, hands again on her shoulders. "We need privacy. There's a story to tell."

"How private?" she asked, a little frightened by the need for secrecy.

"Your quarters. Dismiss the maidservant and lock the doors. Nobody else can hear." Darius reached down and took her hands. "This..." He swallowed visibly. "This will be for the best."

She freed a hand, reached up and touched his cheek with a slender hand. "I trust you."

"I'm sorry," he said, "I'm so sorry."

Within minutes, Dame Ivy sent away her servants, gathered the keys of the house staff, and then met with Sir Darius in the foyer to her chambers. Silently, she looked him over, but he said nothing--they were still too close to a listening world.

Dreading with every passing second the unknown truth, she closed the doors and locked them with the key. Then she walked ahead of him, clutching the iron keyring with both hands. So long as her grip was tight, her arms wouldn't shake, though she felt so cold in her quarters now, so very cold.

"Darius," she whispered, afraid that speaking any louder would cause a calamity, "Can we light a fire?" She turned towards her study, a small room with a fireplace cut into the wall.

"Yes," he said, a measure louder, "Of course."

She hung the keyring on a hook in the hall. Darius shut the door behind them.

The room was carpeted, cozy. There were shelves loaded with books. The coals were still there from the day before. For several minutes, Ivy stoked a new fire, building up the flames and heat until even a thick log would burn. All the while, she listened to Darius's slow, measured breathing. He was a soldier of many campaigns, thirty-five years old, and the last of a long line of Sir Blackroots. To the last, they'd been knights of absolute loyalty, willing to go without complaint into the lion's den, all of them atoning for a traitorous brother five generations back.

A cursed lineage, they said--but without any magic to dispel. There was only a cursed reputation, unshakable and ultimately convenient for the royal family.

Ivy stepped away from the fire and sat down in her reading chair. There was a stool she used to lift her feet. Darius took it without another word and sat down in front of her, just to the side so he wouldn't block the fire. Then he said, "I know where you came from."

"Where?" Ivy asked, feeling her skin crawl. What about her past inspired this fear in her husband? "Do you know where I was born? Is that the secret?"

He shook his head. "No, I know where you came from." He scooted the stool closer to her chair. "Do you remember the marsh witch?"

"Ophelia?" Ivy asked.

"She was a real witch," Darius said, "Powerful, wise. When the king told me to slay a dragon that was older than the Blackroots, I rode to Ophelia's home."

"She helped you slay the dragon," Ivy said, "She saved my life, closed my wounds."

Darius's lips became a thin line. "No," he said, "no, assume nothing was true. I told you a story to save you, but the story wasn't the truth. That's the first thing I've done wrong, Ivy. I asked Ophelia to lie for me, and then I lied to you, and I've kept lying to you."

"Say it then," Ivy said, growing upset at Darius's coyness. "Just tell me how you've hurt me. Let me decide if I'm wounded."

Darius's face broke into a grimace, grief dancing across his brow. "Yes, Ivy, yes. Ophelia..." He hesitated. "Do you know what they blamed the dragon for? Drought. But Ophelia showed me. We were foolish, you see, the rain was coming. Ophelia had a book, and there's a cycle, a cycle of rains, and..." His voice cracked. "It doesn't matter, the dragon wasn't responsible, you see? This dragon was older than Blackroot castle, but she hadn't anything to do with the rains."

"She?" Ivy asked, feeling a cold intuition at the back of her throat, squeezing her neck so tight that she could hardly breathe. "The dragon was a she?"

"Ophelia taught me, but I had... No, no. Listen, the king would've sent someone else if I didn't go, so I had to do something about the dragon." Darius was losing his composure. Sweat began to bead on his brow, drip down his beard. "I asked Ophelia--she said it was possible--so I asked her to hide the dragon. I needed to hide her so I could pretend I'd killed her."

Ivy took a long, deep breath. "Is this what you did? You hid the dragon and wouldn't tell me?"

Darius covered his mouth. He hesitated to say anything further.

"That's all it is, right?" Ivy asked. "All you've done is lie, yes? Darius?"

Darius removed his hand and said slowly, miserably, "We attacked the dragon, Ophelia and I. We tricked her, the poor dragon. We did her wrong. We attacked her, we put her asleep, and then we wrapped her up tight." Darius's eyes were beginning to water. "Don't interrupt, Ivy, please. I have... I have to finish." He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. "Ophelia was a powerful witch. She could turn a man into a toad, you understand, and had. So I asked her to turn the dragon into a woman. I asked her to turn you into a woman."

Ivy straightened in her chair. The thought was almost--no, not almost. It was impossible. She stared at Darius, unable to demand a denial, though her face must have pleaded it clearly.

"It's the truth," Darius whispered, "Ophelia changed your shape, bound you in five gold rings, and then... I watched her wrap you in false flesh, Ivy. She made you into the maiden from every dragon story, something harmless and small. I was made a hero for saving you."

"No," Ivy said, barely listening. "No, I'm not a dragon."

Darius pressed onward, as if the words were well rehearsed, as if he were no longer speaking to Ivy but was reciting a confession. "We hid who you were from yourself. We should've trusted you, but we didn't. We didn't trust you, and you didn't deserve what we did to you. We hid you from yourself, so that you wouldn't run away. We planned on freeing you after a few weeks--"

"No!"

"We planned on it--"

"Quiet!" Ivy shouted, slamming the armrests of her chair with her fists.

Darius shut up. He waited.

"Why?" she asked.

He waited.

"Tell me why you're saying these things!" she demanded.

Sweat was running down Darius's face in streams. "I deserve to die for this. You may kill me yet and I accept that--"

"Shut up!" Ivy shouted at the top of her lungs, little chest heaving, tears streaming from her eyes so heavily that she could hardly see Darius, a figure through cascading water, frozen on a stool, lowly and miserable and consigned to fate.

Ivy cried, sobbing forcefully, unable to even consider Darius's words for several minutes.

Darius bowed his head into his broad hands and cried with guilt.

Only when Ivy felt like she could breathe again did she whisper, "Why?"

He raised his head, wiping snot and tears on his sleeves, forcibly controlling his breath. "The enchantment..." He snorted, swallowed mucus. "It's nearly expired."

"Expired?" she asked.

"After five years, the enchantment will fail. You'll become a dragon. No matter what."

Ivy slouched in her reading chair. "If I'm a dragon..." She suppressed a shudder. "Why tell me? Why tell me that you..." A mass of dark feelings welled up in her belly, a tangle so horrible that she could barely begin to handle it. "I was happy with you."

"We took away your memory," Darius said quietly, "so you wouldn't betray your real identity to anyone. We planned it out, we wanted to make sure you survived. We had to make sure you survived. It was an injustice to trap you, but it was a greater injustice to see you murdered for a superstition. So we changed you, and we were careful, you see."

Ivy closed her eyes and tried to hold her breath to keep from crying. She didn't feel like a dragon. She didn't feel like a monster. But she wore gold bands with no explanation. She had no past to speak of. She was just a wrapping then? Just a fake woman for Darius's schemes?

"We had to be careful," Darius continued, "The king was suspicious. We defeated a dragon without any casualties, so he questioned my pikemen. He learned that only a marsh witch had accompanied me into battle. Don't you see?"

"No," Ivy said. She couldn't understand why he'd spent so much time with her, if she was only a monster. Why pretend this far? Why woo her? Why dine with her? Why marry her?

Why fuck her and lick her?

"We planned to free you in weeks, but the king had spies around me for a year," Darius said.

"But you didn't free me," Ivy said bitterly, accusing him of... what? She didn't know.

"In the first days..." Darius hesitated. "I thought we'd made a puppet out of you, but we hadn't. Before she fled, Ophelia explained what she'd done."

At the word puppet, Ivy gritted her teeth. That's all she was. A damned puppet!

"She didn't change the dragon's mind," Darius said. "Ophelia explained it better than I can. You were intelligent, capable of speech, I barely knew--but Ophelia understood. You were both a person and a dragon." He was struggling to express this duality. "Ophelia didn't change the person, you see? She just made you forget being a dragon."

Ivy scowled at the crackling fire. "Forget?"

"That's my wrongdoing," Darius said, "That's the greatest wrong I've done you. I made you forget who you were."

Ivy was unable to work through everything so quickly. The implications of Darius's speech offered a hope that she could detect, sincere as it was, but she couldn't even begin to unravel the possibilities--it was all too overwhelming. So she spoke aloud from her wounded heart, instead of trying to argue with her husband's sincere guilt.

"Do you even love me?" she asked.

"Absolutely," Darius said, "I love you more than life itself, Ivy."

Her broken heart bled a little less, then. "But you tricked me?"

"I wish I had known you as a dragon," he said to her. "I would've loved you even then."

"What kind of love?" She looked at the back of her pale, little hands. "I'm beautiful," she said. "You made me beautiful. You could've made me something else, anything else, couldn't you?"

"Had you been male, Ophelia would've made you a soldier." Darius frowned. "You're always you, the structure of you, the soul. You were always a woman, dragon or not."

"I'm not a dragon," Ivy said flatly.

"You aren't right now," Darius admitted, "but you deserve to be."

Ivy felt a mild bitterness at that. What she deserved was none of this. What she deserved was a peaceful life with a husband that hadn't betrayed her. "If I'm a dragon, why didn't you tell me?"

"I was afraid you wouldn't love me," Darius said. "I'm a Blackroot. We're a family of foul men, weak and prone to temptation. My five times great uncle stabbed his king for a parcel of marshland--the very place where you would've roamed as a young wyrmling." He rubbed the sweat from his beard. "I was tempted by the safety of cowardice."

"I would've stayed with you," Ivy said, recalling the sweet passion of their first year together. "I was deeply in love with you. I would've forgiven you for anything."

"I don't deserve forgiveness," Darius said, voice lowered with defeat. "I'm speaking to who you really are, Ivy. You aren't bound to do me any favors. You aren't."

"Won't you try to refute me?" Ivy asked mournfully, "Won't you at least try?"

He smiled, but the briefest happiness seemed to cause him pain. "Are you still deeply in love with me? Will you forgive me even now?"

Ivy nodded silently in her chair. Of course she would.

"But Ivy, that's what worries me most." Darius took a slow breath. "Though you love me now, though you are Ivy, you aren't the whole Ivy. You're more than this."

Ivy pressed on the skin of her arm. It seemed soft. The flesh beneath felt like muscle and sinew. She could hardly imagine that she was a dragon hidden away. "I don't feel like a dragon."

"I assaulted you, trapped you, and deceived you. I won't have an excuse, because I didn't ask you if you wanted to be saved. I stole away five years, and then I took advantage of you--"

"I wouldn't think that!" Ivy said sharply.

"I pray you won't hate me," Darius said, "but I want you to understand this clearly. You have every right to hate me. As a dragon, you were stripped down and made weak and vulnerable, and instead of restoring your dignity to you, I kept you without giving you a choice."

"So what?" Ivy asked, "I'll choose how I'll feel. I won't just hate you."

"Be honest," Darius said, "I'm just a man, but I took you to my bed. What will you think when you're a dragon again? I've stripped you of your dignity."

"Those are my choices to make," Ivy said angrily, "I'll decide, not you."

"Exactly," Darius said, "exactly. You just... you have a choice now."

"What choice?" Ivy asked, upset with Darius's fatalism.

"To cut off the golden rings, or to leave them on for the rest of the week."

"Why?" Ivy asked.

"They're enchanted. Without them, your memory and your body will return within minutes." Darius looked grim. "It's only a week sooner--"

"What if I want to spend this week with you?" Ivy interrupted.

"I want a lifetime with you," Darius said, "but you are more wondrous than what we've made of you. You should take back what I took from you. Don't wait for it." He stood slowly, rising to his full height. "Imagine who you were. Won't that Ivy be happier that you didn't wait?"

Ivy looked up at him. For once, he was above her again, not below. "I'll think on it."

He reached out with a hand to help her up. She accepted. Once she was on her feet, she felt unsteady. Despite the tangled ball of feelings in her belly, she pulled close to him, and without hesitation, he hugged her tight.

"Spend the day as you please," Darius said, squeezing her until she ached, driving away the pain of misery for a brief moment. Then he released her. "Decide tomorrow." And before she could consider a reply, Sir Darius opened the door, took the keys, and he left.

Dame Ivy was alone with her thoughts.

The maidservants returned. They fed her, attended to her needs, asked her probing questions--but she spent most of the day dismissing them and thinking.

It was the kind of roiling emotion that spiralled down, circling over and over the same points but sinking grimmer and more melancholy with each turn. As a dragon, she had to admit, she was a victim. But wasn't she herself even now? Didn't today's feelings matter too? Maybe as a dragon, she would still love him, or at least forgive him. Except that she wasn't the dragon yet. She didn't remember being attacked, and she couldn't truly decide how she'd feel tomorrow. That would be absurd, like deciding that she shouldn't feel upset today. It simply wouldn't work. Only as a dragon would she finally know her feelings. And as a dragon, she had to admit...

When she reached the bottom, she had three thoughts.

Right now, she was furious with Darius for betraying her.

But she loved him and he loved her. Five years of companionship couldn't disappear with one revelation. She wasn't fake, and her feelings weren't fake. She was only incomplete.

Still, she might not love him once she was whole again.

She hoped and prayed she would. She imagined visiting him in the marsh, feeling him nap against her scaled flank--but it was hard to imagine she was a dragon at all. It felt unnatural.

So she knew her limits. She couldn't truly imagine how she would feel as a dragon.

One of the maids bothered her at dinner. "Dame?" she asked.

Ivy was sawing at a piece of pork. "Yes?"

"You won't take dinner with Sir Blackroot?"

"We've had a disagreement, and I won't see him until tonight." She hadn't actually decided what she would do, but now that she'd said it aloud, it seemed right. "Please tell Darius."

"Yes Dame," the maid replied.

After eating, Ivy considered how she would feel tomorrow. Would she wake up relaxed? Or would she still feel the same dread anticipation of discovery. In 7 days, no matter what, this would end, and she would know what this meant. She would know how she felt about these years going forward, if she would loathe them or cherish them for what they'd been. Any plans, fantasies or fears could only make sense in the context of what she would become.

As it stood, how she felt as a human didn't really matter, because it'd all soon become the memory of another Ivy, the more complete Ivy, who had a past.

The more she thought on it, the more it seemed right that Darius had told her the truth and given her the option. The surprise would've been unfathomable, enraging, and completely foul. He had waited until nearly the end, but he had still given her the power to choose her fate.

That night, she went to the master bedroom alone, without even a candle, walking by dim moonlight through halls so well studied that she could never be lost. The maidservants couldn't assist her. They wouldn't really understand why she needed the peace of the night. She cracked open the door with a creak and slipped inside. Perfect darkness.

"Darius," she whispered, slowly pulling off her nightie, stripping totally bare.

"Ivy," he whispered back.

"I cannot sleep," she said, and she tiptoed across the room, slid onto the bed, and crawled under the spread, finding Darius in a nightgown beneath the blankets, a pocket of warmth in a cold dark night. There were no more words to speak.

Darius turned in under the covers and reached out to gently pet her round breasts and hips in his large, rough hands. Her nipples stiffened. Her clitoris became hard and sensitive. She felt like herself, like this. She wanted to be held and rubbed and kissed.

She reached under his gown and found his erection, thick and hot, and she tugged down on the skin to bare his head. He was ready, but he was such a tender lover. He would make her so hot and wet that she would be dripping and squirming, and then and only then would he fill her aching pussy, slamming into her, making every thrust an impact of pleasure.

She let go, pushed him onto his back, and spun around under the blankets, crawling on top of Darius with her svelte little frame, feeling his heat and bulk across her belly and breasts. She supposed this was a memory she wanted fresh on the dragon's mind. Yes.

She sat her aroused vulva--puffy and sensitive--down on Darius's lips, and then she grabbed his penis and filled her mouth with his massive cockhead, running her tongue across its hot girth while jerking him off with both hands. He was such a large man, and she was hungry for sex.

Darius grabbed her hips, kissed her mound, and started licking her aching pussy hard, pausing every few seconds to suck at her thundering, horny little clit. He collected her lubrication and smeared it over his thick fingers, then gently penetrated her sensitive pussy and asshole, one with each hand, making her squirm, filling up her body, pressing into her aching flesh and stretching her and making her feel every inch of her tender femininity. She rubbed her aroused breasts across his hard belly, smashing her stiff horny nipples against his flesh.

Sucking and licking each other off took only a few desperate minutes. She felt him twitching, groaning, cumming. He jizzed in her mouth, and she sucked hard and bobbed her head over his penis and drank him all to keep the bed sheets clean. In turn, after a second or two, her little thundering hard clitoris jerked away under one of his sucking kisses, retracting under its hood in an orgasmic clench, and her hips and buttocks shuddered with a long, rolling orgasm while she squirted her own little girly load in his mouth, feeling the pleasure of orgasmic release. He held on tight to her hips and drank her female cum and swallowed, an exchange he clearly enjoyed.

She jerked him as he softened, cleaning up the last of his cum and drinking it, until she was sure he was spent. In turn, he lapped all over her groin and deep in her vagina, giving her aftershocks, secondary orgasms of lower intensity but longer duration, like a wave of orgasm rising through her belly and up into her chest, billowing out from her clitoris.

Then she too was cleaned and satisfied, and she crawled off him. When she came here, she thought there would be more carnality, but instead of rekindling his libido, she found herself stripping off his gown just to press her bare skin against him, to feel his presence and warmth. He seemed to share this urge to bond, to feel their companionship closely.

She'd rarely noticed before, but she could feel the gold bracelets, anklets and necklace caught between them, holding them so very slightly apart. Yet so much more of them touched. She pushed the rings from her mind and soon forgot again.

Snuggled together, nude, they eventually slept.

They might never share this bed again.

The morning came all too soon.

Dame Ivy awoke first, finding herself spread out under the covers and no longer snuggled against Darius. She carefully extricated herself from the sheets and blankets, found her nightie on the carpet, and wrapped herself in a robe taken from Darius's wardrobe.

Darius was a sleepy lump underneath the covers, slowly rising and falling with relaxed, contented breaths. She didn't wake him. There was no guarantee of peace today.

Protected against the autumn chill, she crept out into the long halls, stones lit by candles and a cloud-shrouded dawn breaking through distant windows. Servants preparing for the day noticed her but said nothing. She would speak first if she needed help.

In her rooms, she retrieved her finest clothes, a complex assembly of flowing silks and purple dyes once worn on a visit to the king's court. It was a comfortable dress, surprisingly warm, but it was meant to be paired with gloves and underwear and special boots--and she wore none of them. The dress cascaded down over her bare skin, flowing off her hips, breasts and nipples heavily, drawing out the pattern of her femininity in its draping and careful cuts, and she did nothing else to adorn it. She put on a pair of simple black slippers, untied the braid of her hair and let her blonde locks tumble over her shoulders and down her back in smooth waves. Then she was done. She wore her most beautiful possession.

The maidservant that usually helped her dress was also the first to boldly interrupt, stopping her near the exit to her rooms.

"Dame," she said, slightly alarmed, "your modesty?"

"I won't be modest again," Ivy said calmly.

"Dame?"

"You'll understand. I have orders for you first."

"Yes, dame?" the maidservant asked, confused.

"There are three things you must tell the rest of the staff." She enumerated on her fingers. "My husband knows where I'm from. I've asked him to send me home, so after today, you won't see me again." A second finger. "Sir Darius didn't slay the dragon. He trapped her and hid her, but the magic he used is finished. She will return today, which is why I'm leaving. You must leave as well." All three fingers raised. "Sir Darius has told me the dragon is dangerous beyond imagining. He may die. Return tomorrow. If he is dead or gone, go to the king."

"Why the king?" the maidservant asked.

"We mustn't pursue the dragon. She is innocent, and she is dangerous. If Darius couldn't defeat her, the king should refrain from throwing away more lives on a pointless hunt." She grabbed her maidservant's shoulder. "The witch Ophelia can explain it to the king, if he wishes to find her among the marshes and ask her for the truth."

"Dame--"

"Go to Darius and wake him. Tell him what I told you. Once you're sure, go around the house and arrange for the departure of the other servants. Darius will send me safely on my way to the north, and then he will face the dragon."

"Dame?" the maidservant asked, unwilling to believe.

"Go to Darius," Ivy commanded.

"Yes dame," said the maidservant, bowing slightly.

There were a few minutes of confusion before Sir Darius took her story and turned it into orders and actions. Meanwhile, Ivy went to the kitchen and ripped apart a fresh loaf of bread with her bare hands, exposing it's pale innards and smearing it with butter, her last human meal. She refused to be unhappy. There'd be many years yet to enjoy life.

Only her humanity was drawing to a close.

She paused, mid-bite. No, one other thing might be ending today, and that did make her unhappy. She swallowed and said his name under her breath. "Darius." What kind of fate would he face today, once she was no longer his little human wife?

Was it strange to pray that future Ivy would show him mercy?

Sir Darius found her a few minutes after she finished eating, when the last of the servants were loaded up in carts to flee to the nearby village. His appearance was haggard and grim but ultimately resolute. "Today?" he asked her.

"I have to know," she said, "the entire week would be agony, waiting to know."

Disappointment clouded his face, but the words from his mouth said otherwise. "Good, we shouldn't wait. You deserve to be yourself again, my love."

"How will we do this?" she asked.

"We'll go to the roof," Sir Darius said. "I have a pair of jeweller's snips. I'll help you remove the rings, one by one. Then, you will decide what happens next."

"I'll decide what happens to you?" she asked.

"What happens to everything. You'll become a powerful, magical creature, Ivy. You could turn the castle to a mound of ash and sand, obliterate all the memories etched in the stone."

She squinted. Is that what he wanted? To forget his crimes against her, Ivy the dragon?

He seemed to know the measure of her thinking. "I want whatever you want. That's the only way to redeem myself for what I've done to the person I love most in this world."

"A well-rehearsed speech," Ivy said cynically, "but true, I suppose."

"I'll find the snips," Darius said. "Meet me on the roof."

She was slow to climb through the castle. The rooftop was easy to reach and also the end of her time here. She touched the walls with her dainty fingertips. She supposed there were claws inside, capable of carving up the granite with ease, but she couldn't feel them.

She climbed the stairs effortlessly. She'd always been so strong, so athletic. More evidence, she thought. More perfect beauty crafted by Ophelia's hand. Darius had seen years of hard marches in the field, yet he barely kept up with her.

She rose like a bubble, up and up, towards the top of the castle.

She opened the door onto the rooftop. The vault of heaven was still featureless and grey, lined flawlessly by a blanket of clouds sweeping down from the north. It wasn't raining here, but somewhere to the south, far over the horizon where cool winds spread over a warm sea, there'd be storms today, and skies rumbling with glorious thunder.

How did she know that? Nobody had ever taught her about the sky. Maybe, just maybe, a touch of the dragon was already beginning to leak in--winged creature that she would become.

The wind was cool but not uncomfortable. She left the door open and padded out onto the open stone and stood there, looking up at the featureless expanse. It was a lie, to say her emotions matched this sky, but she wished it were true. She wished she wasn't already crying, small bitter tears, because the end was here. She wouldn't get to stay with Darius. She couldn't see how. She wasn't even sure if she'd want to. Soon, her mind would change.

Darius arrived with his hair and beard brushed out. He wore a tunic of dark green, pants fit for farming, sturdy boots, and nothing more.

"No armor?" she asked.

He shook his head, shut the door, and walked over to meet her at the center of the grey stones, under the center of a grey heaven, caught in a grey bubble of misery that they would break open now with a pair of silvery jeweller's snips, clutched in Sir Darius's right hand.

"How will it happen?" Ivy asked.

"It will be carnal," Darius said, "or it will be painful. Ophelia told me long ago that you would decide how the transformation felt. The magic measures your heart." He reached out and touched her cheek. "That's why you ended up a beautiful woman, Ivy. You were who you were, always. Take heart in that. You're good, always."

She touched his hand and held it to her face. "You sound like you don't believe yourself."

Darius was slow to reply. "Even good people have a right to be angry."

She let go. "Should I take off my dress?"

"If you want," Darius said.

She reached behind her back and undid the sloppy knot she'd used to secure it around her shoulders, then pulled her arms out of the sleeves and let it tumble from her body. Black slippers were kicked off her feet, two claps landing on the stone. She was nude but for the five golden rings. One on each limb. One around her throat.

The air was very slightly cool, but she felt comfortable. Her body was relaxed. The hair on her head blew gently in the autumn breeze. She didn't try to hide her femininity. Her nipples pointed out, large and lovely on her generous breasts. Her hips and round ass held were taut. Her muscular legs were spread apart, for she meant it when she said she would no longer suffer modesty. Her thatch of blonde pubic hair was bared to Darius on her crotch and between her thighs, and she could still recall his rough skin and tender lips on her soft labia.

This was the last moment of Ivy.

Darius was saddened by her intense beauty. "Hold out your left hand," he said.

She held it out, wrist up to him. There was so little give between her skin and the golden bracelet, but he very carefully slid the bite of the jeweller's snips over it. He waited, looking her in the eyes. She nodded, and he squeezed.

With a snap, the ring was broken--and flailing, it whipped off her arm and slung up into the air, curling up into a spiral as if it'd been under a massive magical pressure.

It landed with a heavy clang, as if it'd weighed ten pounds.

Ivy clenched suddenly, feeling as if every hair on her body was standing on end. She balled her fists, gritted her teeth. Her toes were curling. Her skin was stimulated from end to end, tingling--and then she felt her nipples swell with arousal, her clitoris growing rock hard under her clitoral hood, her pussy rapidly wettening, nearly dripping.

Darius stepped back, unsure of what her reaction meant, watching closely with concern.

Underneath her skin, Ivy could feel the sweeping change from a mild softness to a nascent sheet of scales, and she turned pale as the blood that reddened her skin was pulled out of the false flesh and sealed away--but still, she felt every inch of her humanity screaming with joy!

She started panting, trying not to slap a hand to her pussy to start 'bating her clitoris, trying to retain some sense of dignity in front of her husband.

"Does it hurt?" Darius asked, worried.

Ivy shook her head, breathing between gritted teeth. It felt amazing. Her body was begging her to peel away all the rings instantly, to become who she used to be. This was her reward for reversion after five long years. Once a single ring was gone, she could never imagine stopping there. She had to take them all away!

It was the kind of lust that she'd felt when she first laid with Sir Darius. She needed to transform now! She had to become the true Ivy and sate this carnal hunger!

"It feels pleasant?" Darius ventured.

Ivy wanted to jump his face and slam her clitoris into his lips and cum all over him and then fill her pussy and asshole with cock and swallow his jizz before she cummed again. Urgh!

She nodded, restraining her urges.

Darius was visibly relieved.

Ivy supposed that would be a relief for him, but she needed relief now. She held up her right arm. "H-hurry," she said between chattering teeth.

Darius gently worked the snips onto the golden bracelet. He turned his head away, afraid he'd be struck by the flying loop of metal. Then he squeezed.

There was a metallic bang, and the next ring sailed off into the air, instantly straightening into a thin stick of gold. It landed with the same unnatural weight on the stones.

"Oh!" Ivy shouted, unable to hold her voice. Her raging clitoral erection started pulsing to her heartbeat. She could feel the clitoral bulbs behind her pussy lips, fully engorged until they ached with lust. She craved a massive cock in her pussy. She needed to feel Darius's hot, hard penis thrusting up her tight vagina, jamming aside her pussy lips, rubbing the inside of her bulbs and slapping her mound with every thrust. She needed her swollen g-spot grinding along his girth.

It felt so fucking good to have a wildly horny pussy, yet it was torture so long as nobody touched her. Arousal pulsed out of her clitoris and up through her belly. Her breasts were running with sweat. With every heaving breath, she felt them expand ever so slightly, and she watched as her horny nipples swelled stiffer and puffier and became more sensually erotic.

She shuddered as the second wave of minor metamorphosis swept over her body in pulses. She hunched over a little, clenching her shoulders, feeling her muscles tense. From her thunderingly aroused vagina, she could feel a little wetness dribble from her inner lips. Then she grunted with pleasure and pressure, bared her teeth at Darius, and felt a satisfying grind of relief as her teeth slowly scythed from her gums, becoming longer, sharper, carnivorous.

Her breath hissed through her well-fit teeth, slinging out thin lines of saliva in the breeze.

She raised her hands in front of her body, in full view of Darius. Her digits were twitching, her arms shaking. She was already holding them as if they bore claws--then her eyes rolled up with ecstasy as her fingernails tented, and black claws began to slide out from under her nails, slowly pressuring them from below with their fearful size.

"Gods," Darius muttered.

Ivy clenched her fingers, and her claws scythed out to their full size, half an inch of sharp curved black keratin, instantly splitting open her human fingernails on both hands.

Ivy spoke, her voice now a little deeper, smokier, richer, but still very feminine. "It's true," she said, almost manic, "I really am a dragon. Look, Darius."

Still breathing heavily between her fangs, Ivy held her hands out, palms up, and very gently relaxed, drawing her claws into her fingers a bit, then clenched, pushing them back out again. She could control their extension, somewhat like a cat, though the anatomy was different.

She would be able to touch things without cutting them.

Darius was staring. "I didn't expect this."

The dragon's mind must be returning to her a little bit, she was sure of it now. The claws looked right, in a way that her nails looked wrong in memory, as if she had a new perspective on something as simple as fingertips. "I'm beautiful," she said, flexing the claws naturally.

Darius's voice softened. "You always will be."

Ivy smiled with carnivorous teeth. She believed he meant every word. "Take off the next one."

He kneeled beside her slender shin and slid the bite of the snip up along her right heel. He sniffed the air. He could smell her arousal on the wind, the drip down her inner thighs. He held in whatever reaction he might've had, a soldier's discipline. She gently touched his scalp with clawtips, feeling how they could scrape his skin without cutting him. He pushed gently up into her, and she petted his hair with her human palm. He held her leg still with one hand and squeezed the snips with the other. The golden anklet snapped open with a bang, flung forth from her ankle and collapsed in mid-air, swirling down to a golden ball. It landed in a dead stop.

Ivy shrieked like she was going to have an orgasm.

Her leg shuddered so hard that Darius couldn't keep a grip on it. She wasn't meaning to stomp at his hands, but he pulled back just the same.

Then instead of cumming, Ivy felt the sexual energy explode up into her body, rippling through her muscles, quaking in her bones. It was pressure, powerful. She felt her spine crackling, shifting, not with pain but with the relief of stretching, except she stretched upward, her arms and legs lengthening, her hips broadening, her muscles toning and tightening. Her skin groaned with the pressure of growth but held together, stretching smoothly as she moved her limbs and arched her back, thrusting her chest out, breasts jiggling. She remained whole, aided by the two remaining rings of gold, but she was as tall as Darius now, and she felt as if her bones and sinew and blood were pulsing to the beat of another heart.

Everything about her felt as if it were wrapped up. She felt small and confined inside her skin, as if she ought to be larger. She wasn't very muscular, but she felt bigger and stronger and more feminine. She felt beastly, a dominant woman. Her clitoris ached so hard that she couldn't imagine touching herself directly. She was too sensitive, too on edge, too ready to cum.

"Hold still," Darius said flatly, hiding his emotions, "I'll have the other anklet off."

Ivy concentrated, trying not to squirt all over the stones, straining to hold her body in place. There were only two more rings, and then she could strip down to be truly naked--as she ought to be, as she had been for a lifetime and would be henceforth.

She twitched when Darius touched her burning pale skin, but he held her ankle tightly and put the snips on the penultimate ring. He cut, and the gold flung away from Ivy, spinning, sucking inwards and flattening, forming a disc that clattered lazily on the rooftop.

Ivy's nipples swelled suddenly, becoming terribly sensitive and fully erect. She was struck dumb with the sensation, joyous but unable to put words to it, simply grunting with pleasure as her breasts began to expand again on her chest, heavier, broader. She clenched her fists and strained, urging them to grow bigger, then thrust her chest out again as they blossomed forth, growing as large as her head and yet still holding firm, each nipple huge and thick and horny.

She gasped, shuddering with relief at their expansion, though something in the back of her head said this was new, this was different. It was like a compromise between who she was now and who she'd been, and given that Darius could've kissed a nipple right now and made her cum, she wouldn't have had it any other way.

She unclenched her fists, raising her hands in front of her magnificent tits, and her fingers quaked as they began to lengthen and fill. With meaty rips, black scaled fingers thrust out of her human fingertips, then split open the skin on her hands, straight up to her wrists, human skin sloughing off bloodlessly to hang empty from her forearms, black dragon hands revealed, both massive and delicate. With her truly bare hands, she clasped her tremendous breasts, cupping them, palming her thick, horny nipples, gently raising and squeezing.

A groan of joy escaped her lips. The thunder of sexual pleasure rolled through her breasts, filling them with orgasmic energy, as if they were full of sex. If she tugged her nipples, she'd cum...

With a slow pleasant crack, claws ripped out of her human toes, and her stance shifted up onto the balls of her feet, skin bursting open in messy tears, black dragon's feet tearing out of her soles. She flexed them unconsciously. It felt so good to take off her skin and really stand...

Then the energy shot up over her face and collected in her sinuses, boiled forth into her brow, and she moaned as the skin tented and ripped. Smooth, ivory white horns scythed into the air, gently curving into shape as they extended back over her skull. It was as pleasant as brushing hair, like scratching an itch that was years old. Hair was just a messy mane, but horns were a part of her being, and she felt the instinctual urge to rub them on the side of a tree, scraping away bark, though she couldn't say why she needed this. Another itch, maybe.

"Ivy?" Darius said, his voice small and distant through the blood rushing in her ears.

She was about to cum, she knew it. There was nowhere left for her to expand, nothing left to change until the ring around her neck was removed. She tried to concentrate on her husband, to say what she felt. "I need..." she said, still cupping her breasts.

"I'll hurry," Darius said.

"No!" Ivy shouted. She let go of her chest, jiggling, and grabbed the golden necklace with her draconic hands. "Stay back!"

Darius put a little more space between them. "Why?"

Ivy could feel the dragon boiling just beneath the surface. It was so close to free, so close to real, and she couldn't tell what this emotion was, but she didn't want Darius to risk it. "I don't know if I love you," she said, "I don't know yet."

"And the necklace?"

"I can do it," Ivy said. "I'm strong enough."

Darius nodded and took two more steps back. Ivy watched his face. He was finally cracking, the soldier's facade crumbling. Tears were beginning to flow down his cheeks, because the end was here. Ivy's human heart ached, but the overwhelming pleasure boiling up out of her pussy and clit, up through her ass, up out of her groin, thundering through her breasts, through every part of her--it was too much to contain anymore, and the only relief was to destroy this ring.

She wanted it, she wanted it so badly. She just prayed she would still love Darius after she hatched, after this false flesh was shed and she was reborn.

Dame Ivy gripped the golden ring, this enchanted necklace, and with draconic strength, she yanked it apart like soft candy, stretching, wrenching, and then breaking.

There was a glassy sound. The enchantment literally turned to pieces and dissolved, the air cracking around her like a thin clear seashell crushed underfoot. Then it was gone.

She dropped the ruined ring, eyes focused on infinity, body slack.

There was only one way to describe it. She'd endured a massive pressure for years, but only now, with the pressure gone, was she aware that it'd been there at all.

It hadn't hurt before. She'd been tough enough to endure it and even enjoy it, within its limited confines. But now all the energy of her compact form could feel the empty space around her, and if she chose to move, she would unfold, even explode!

The first thought of her new, expanded mind. I'm a dragon.

It wasn't a thought of surprise. It was a deep understanding of herself, and it was glorious.

She erupted in a shout, nearly a scream of excitement--"Yes!"

And she tensed her body, straining, urging to shed this human skin. She grunted as her bones cracked, her human muzzle jutting forward beneath her face. One inch, two inches, stretching her lips open, baring her carnivorous teeth. She groaned with tense pleasure as her spine cracked, shifting even further. Her shoulders hunched.

She reached down between her thighs with both dragon hands, retracted her claws, and filled her pussy with all eight fingers, forcing her thick pussy lips apart, filling her vagina with the crammed bulk of her own scaly flesh. It wasn't a dick, but she needed it, she had to have it.

Full, full! My pussy needs to be full! She squatted down in full view of Darius and 'bated violently, making messy wet sounds with every thrust up her tight sopping pussy, battering her clitty with her palms, thumbing it through her hood. This would only take a few seconds. She'd been so close. Her breasts were sloshing to her self-fuck. Her moan was lilting to her thrusts.

She sunk down onto her knees, bending further and further over her hands. Her thighs were squeezing together, so she pulled one hand out and started tugging her tits, jerking her insanely horny nipples towards orgasm. He remaining hand was inserted four fingers side by side, and her palm cupped her puffy aroused vulva, letting her hump her little hard clit against her hand.

Her spine cracked again, and she felt the emerging thickness of something she'd forgotten, an entire limb lost to her, thick and powerful and integral, a fundamental part of herself. Her dragon's tail was pushing on her skin from within, tightening it, tenting it. Then it slid down, sliming wetly between her buttocks, pushing up the human skin towards her asshole.

Her asshole began to ache with arousal. She knew what was coming, and she urged it to grow, thrusting harder into her own hand. She let go of her breasts, using her arm to lower herself until her tits were laid against the stone and her ass was bent over as far as she could manage, thrust up into the air. Her eyes were open. She looked forward at Darius, her chin nearly touching the flagstones. He would see this part of her emerge from within.

She wondered what it would be like for him to see his wife push out a tail from her ass. Horrifying? Strangely erotic? For her, it would be orgasm. For her, it'd be the real woman sliding out of this human wrapping, buttfucking the human Ivy on the way out, while feeling her tail wrapped and clenched and stroked in her muscular ass. Her eyes rolled back with the agony of anticipation, and she shook as she strained to cum and become her true self.

Another crack of bone, and the tip of her dragon's tail thrust against her sphincter, tenting it. The anal pleasure and pressure rose beyond her expectations, fueled and ignited by her masturbation. Her pussy pumping was becoming erratic. Her clitoris was going to explode into a star of orgasm. She felt like she would squirt ten feet in the air, the pressure was so intense.

"Ivy?" Darius asked, his voice weak and without resolve.

She was in control, she was the monster here, she was the beast! Her pussy was beautiful, powerful. She'd never felt so dominantly feminine, so ultimately feral. Her asshole was not to be penetrated from without--it was to explode from within as she became something better, unleashed through that horny hole!

Almost cumming, almost!

Another crack, another thrust against her sphincter, and her voice cried out in pleasure. "Oh gods, my asshole! I can feel my tail!"

"Ivy!" Darius called out.

"Not Ivy!" she shouted. No, not that weak little submissive creature. "The real me! The dragon hatching from my butthole!" She was the Queen of the Marsh in the dragon tongue, and if she was going to have a human name, she would be strong, thorny.

I'm Briar, she thought, my name is Briar, and my butt is bursting!

With three wet thrusts, Briar 'bated past the edge and cummed, yanking her hand away, clit jerking inward, orgasm exploding, rocking her whole body in a single soul-shattering clench, squirting one thin jet of girly cum several feet in the air. Simultaneously her tail exploded out of her butthole, and she strained to force the dragon out of her butt, a black scaled tail sliding from her tented sphincter and sliming out of her cumming ass, a monster's horny tail squirming out between her fat shuddering buttocks and thrusting high into the autumn air.

Scattered squirts followed involuntarily, but her aching mound didn't soften. Her clitoris regained its stiffness quickly. Her asshole felt intensely full, and she butt-cummed again and again, feeling another pulse of orgasmic aftershock with every black, writhing inch of thick tail that she birthed out of her horny human butthole.

Her tail quickly grew in thickness, bulging under the skin above her asshole. A foot slid out of her stretching, aching sphincter, and it was as thick as her arm. A second foot emerged in slimy jerks, tugging at her asshole, and it as wide as two fists pressed together. She unleashed a third foot, slower, feeling the bones crack and the tail curl and twist, more intense, and it stretched her human butthole as wide as a melon. Her sphincter was a white-hot ring of anal sex, the joy of a woman buttfucking herself. It felt so good. Her erogenous tail slid wetly from between her soft buttocks, rubbing them, spreading them.

Her asshole could barely fit any more flesh. Still, she grew, though ever more slowly.

Darius was watching her, Briar thought, and she could smell his fear. Good, she was a frightening creature. It turned her on to know that she was bigger, stronger, that if she wanted to, she could crush him while fucking him. She was free to masturbate and transform and he could do nothing but watch. He was that weak. Totally at her mercy. God, it felt good to be the beast, to feel the raw power in her thundering pussy, to feel muscular and buxom at once! If men could bark about their mighty pricks, as if a dick were strength incarnate, she would celebrate her mightier pussy--her dripping, clenching, aching dragon cunt!

Ophelia had told Darius the truth. Briar was a woman through and through, and glad for it!

She began to breathe in time to the pleasing thrusts of her tail as she squeezed her dragon self through her asshole. In she breathed--clenching, thrusting her hips, holding her breath, straining--and another tension released. A crack of bone, another inch slid between her buttocks, sliming from her butthole, another aftershock of anal orgasm, and exhale with relief. She managed five more inches this way, until the skin above her ass was so stretched that it seemed pale and membranous, and the skin was pushing away from her true buttocks. Already, the darkness of her black scales was visible as a greyness behind her translucent false flesh. She felt her asscheeks growing larger, rounder, more muscular.

She knew now that her original form hadn't carried a thick fat rump, but as Briar began to remember more and more of her nature, she also embraced this morphological compromise. She was returning to dragonhood, but she'd been poured for so long into the shape of a human, and she'd felt so much pleasure in its curves, its erotic nature, its beautiful womanhood. She didn't want to abandon it fully, at least not until she'd had time to reflect on her new body.

Two more inches grew. One more inch of tail grew, and it took two tries to push it out of her overstretched butthole. The flesh had run out of flexibility a little over three and a half feet into her growth. Her butt felt so absolutely amazing, an asshole so greedily filled with wriggling, shuddering, living tail. Briar's erogenous giant assfucking tail, yes!

Then she strained with all her might to force out one final inch, to grow one final step, to push the dragon's tail fully out of her human butthole, to hatch and be reborn through her asshole--and she found release as her ass exploded in a torrent of pleasure and relief.

With an awful meaty tear and an anal orgasm that made her literally scream with beautiful agony, her asshole snapped, the skin on her ass split open wetly like overfilled rubber, and her tail whipped above her raised rear, standing straight just short of four feet, the dragon's appendage cumming above her human pussy, which jizzed again, raining sticky girly loads on the stone, her legs, and her feet, a shower of female cum for her anal rebirth.

Briar pushed up, stood up. Darius was still there, standing, tearful, awaiting her judgement.

She whipped her tail, slapping the stone with wet scales and feeling the impact throughout her orgasmic appendage and up through her rump. Couldn't he see that she was mighty? Couldn't he already see what he'd dared to contain in this pathetic little skin?

Briar could remember now, vague memories of hunting in the marshes, of flying through the skies, of sinking claws into bloody soft flesh and feasting on raw meat!

Darius must think he was doomed to die. There was no better explanation. If he believed he could survive, he would cower and cry out for mercy! He would fear her!

She looked down at her black hands, her scything claws. Near the elbow, her powerful arms were still wrapped in pale human skin. She touched her bare human belly. There was the little dimple in the middle, the lie of a human birth. Her giant breasts were rising and falling with every heaving breath. They too were lies, but she loved having them; she could feel her own pair, draconic and magnificent, which filled them out and made them appear so large.

She gently reached down and touched her throbbing erect clitoris. This was her own, the core of her sex. Her vagina was real too, but the lips of her human pussy were fictitious--they ached to be pulled back, to bare the horny dragoness pussy within.

Then there was the pressure behind her face. The was the most significant lie of all. The visage of a human woman, though stretched, still belied her feral inner nature.

She would show him the horny monster inside!

With beastly hands, she reached up into Ivy's beautiful cascade of golden blonde hair and weaved her dragon fingers among the strands. Then cruelly, she tightened her grip, bunched fists with thick handfuls of hair beside her ears, and she grimaced at Darius.

He did not shy away. He watched solemnly this furious moment.

Briar could hardly stand his calm. She was mighty, aroused, powerful--she needed him to cower. Fury coursed up through her, boiling out of her throat as a high-pitched wordless scream, and she yanked down on her human hair with both draconic fists, violently tugging again and again, unleashing her bestial anger on her human head.

Yank! A crack of bone, her muzzle jutting forward underneath stretching skin, nose flattening over the draconic shape, teeth slavering between her thinning lips. She spread her legs. It felt so good to break open, to release her monstrous self. She felt horny! She felt the urge to cum!

Yank! Another crack, another inch of muzzle grown. Her grimace was now a snarl of dragon teeth, her lips pulled so thin, her entire face beginning to tent over four inches of beastly shape. Her clitoris was hammering with anger. She needed to squirt and shower the stones!

Yank--rrrrip! Her scalp split open near the back of her crown, a slow meaty ripping sound as skin separated in a long, sticky pull. Yes, yes! Her pussy was thundering. This destruction was the most incredible carnal relief! She threw her head back and roared! With a sudden, violent crack of bone, Briar felt her jaw thrust forward, and the deeply stretched lips of Dame Ivy's mouth were forced open in an expression of sudden surprise, as if she were shocked. Slowly, a black dragon's baying, shuddering muzzle slid out of her brutally stretched mouth, Ivy's lips and cheeks sliding back over the beast's maw, human nose reduced to empty and crumpled skin while the beast's jaw slid out of her face.

The illusion must've been convincing from where Darius stood. He cringed, his breath hissing inward. The distortion and destruction of his wife's precious face was surely more painful to bear, like a beautiful lie being punctured by a raging truth.

His reaction pleased Briar, made her shudder with erotic delight. Finally, she was the stronger creature. Finally, she was the dominant, monstrous female beast!

With three more sudden, violent yanks down, the split over her scalp crawled up over her head, and with a long, meaty rip of sundering flesh, she began tearing apart her human face. Her brow split first, her eyes rolling back in her head. The skin of her old nose shredded apart. Between her legs, her clit burst with sympathy, an erotic explosion, every rip of release on her head matched with a pulse of gushing orgasm from her cunt.

It felt so good to be born again!

She shuddered as she kept pulling, and girly jizz blasted out of her urethra, a hot wet squirt splashing in sticky lines between her legs. With gnarly snaps, her human lips gave way, and then her human head unfolded like a burst cocoon, two empty halves of Dame Ivy peeling off the monster inside. From within Ivy's head, Briar thrust herself skyward, eyes closed, a roaring black dragoness head bursting out of a beautiful human woman, snaps and crackles of flesh and bone signalling the final reshaping of her draconic skull.

Yes, yes, the monster inside her was free!

The empty wet flaps of her halved face flopped down over her shoulders. She released her old hair and grabbed her inner thighs, spreading her legs apart as she squatted a little, shuddering, blasting off another two shots of girly load as her human pussy finished cumming.

She opened her eyes, relaxing briefly after orgasm. Where her irises had once been shining blue, they were now a beautiful metallic gold. She stood, releasing her legs, and stretched her slightly extended neck, rotating her head about, feeling its proper shape again.

"I am a dragon," she said in a smoky, beautiful voice, one that surprised her with its deep feminine timbre.

"Ivy..." Darius said, unable to muster more words than her former name.

"Not Ivy!" said the dragoness sharply. Then with a touch of venom, "To you, I'm Briar."

Darius didn't dare speak the dragon's name aloud.

"Does it scare you, whelp?" she asked, her voice nearly a hiss. She grabbed her human breasts with her dragon hands, cupping their mass, rubbing her nipples. They felt wonderful beneath her scales. "Look at me. Half your wife, half the dragon you wrapped in her skin," Briar said.

"I'm sorry," Darius said.

"Shall I change that?"

Darius finally looked away, his face a rictus of emotional pain.

Briar smiled, a grin of dragon's teeth. She was in control. There was only one part of old Ivy truly left, one more portal behind which Briar's complete mind hid. Her pussy was the final seal, but she wanted to savor that moment for last. She wanted to feel Ivy's pussy rip open at the climax of coitus. She wanted to ache and cum as the real Briar's gushing cunt was unleashed.

She wanted to be hornier than ever for that final moment.

She began to tug on her tender nipples, squeezing to feel the draconic tit within. A sultry moan escaped the black lips of her muzzle. "Darius," she commanded, "look at me, coward."

He turned to look at her. She released her breasts, thrusting her chest out at him proudly. "I'm a creature of magic," she said, forming words around an inchoate memory. "These breasts, my buttocks, this shape--I can keep them, or I can discard them, then bear them again."

"Do as you must," Darius said, not dismissively, but with the roughness of tears.

"Did they please you?" She held her breasts higher with her hands. "When you suckled them, did you wonder if you were tasting a dragon's tit?"

Darius said nothing. How could he respond?

Briar released her breasts and stepped towards him, laughing softly to herself. He froze, realizing her approach could mean a dragon's teeth at his throat. Her broad hips swung; her tail swayed like a snake ready to strike, muscular and tense. Her breasts gently swung on her human chest, full and magnificent. She stopped in front of him, a vague shadow easing over his face. She was slightly taller than him now. That made her happy.

She touched his chest with a claw tip, gently at first but slowly pressing harder. "Strip and lie on your back, coward."

He didn't hesitate. Darius took one step back and started peeling off his clothes. Good, Briar thought, he is behaving as he ought. Shirt, trousers, simple shoes--all gone. He was a seasoned soldier, hard bodied and well trained. Hair was thick enough on his chest to blow slightly in the wind. His posture was tight, athletic, poised with the potential to run. Muscles twitched, heavily defined. Between his strong thighs, she could see his large flaccid penis hanging heavily over his hairy testicles. She'd thought him magnificent, and she supposed for a mere man, he still was. At one time, his erection had been almost intimidating as it'd slid into her, hot and living.

She felt a pang of arousal, because now she could intimidate him back. She could take him as he'd taken her little human body, showing him who the greater creature really was. "Lie down!" she commanded, her voice like smoke and sparking flint.

He complied, lying down with his back to the stone, facing up, vulnerable belly bared to her.

"Do you want to die?" she asked him.

"I'm at your mercy..." Darius began.

"Answer me!" Briar shouted, placing a dragon's foot heavily on his chest.

Darius froze, his stare becoming unfocused. He choked out the words, "I want to live."

"Good," she said, "I don't want your noble sacrifices. I want your suffering, and if I want your life, I'll take it." She slightly flexed the claws on her foot, not hard enough to draw blood but enough to make his muscles tense in fear. "Now call me by my name."

Darius swallowed visibly.

It must've seemed strange from that angle, with his head on the stone, to see his former wife's half peeled skin, still wrapped around her torso, over breasts and over pussy, yet split open around her head, on her limbs, across her ass--to see the real woman inside staring down at him with her hand on one hip and slightly spread legs, showing off her thick, ruddy human pussy to him, still covered in the blonde hairs, still smelling of her feminine musk and sweet squirts.

This was half the beauty he once admired and half the monster he'd used to make her, and at this moment, she must've seemed deeply cruel. Good, Briar thought. Good. He deserves punishment for what he did to her. "Say it!"

"Briar!" Darius croaked.

Briar made a rumble in her chest, a deep throaty purr, an animal sound that was unlike anything she'd made as a human. Yes! It felt so good to hear him say that! She was Briar now. The name Ivy was dead, as was his little trophy wife. She was a dragon, Briar!

Soon, she'd be complete. Soon, she'd remember everything.

She pulled her arms back and pushed her chest out, thrusting her massive breasts forward. They felt so good, so arousing to display. Her clit was stiffening again, her vulva swelling.

She'd never had a pair of breasts until she was human. Now that she could compare them with her titless draconic memories, she relished their presence. They made her proud and beautiful, and they were huge--she was dominant. They were clearly for sex, to entice, to demonstrate her overflowing fertility, to be touched and kissed and sucked. They were so sensitive and erotic, more than they'd ever been when purely human.

Her purr redoubled, and her swollen, sensitive nipples felt as erect and horny as her clit, though they were surely softer. She felt the urge to tug them, to cum from her breasts!

Just concentrate on that tense feeling, that tingling ache, that potential joy of release. Mmm, yes, oh yes! Yes! Briar could feel her nipples swelling the tiniest bit more, her draconic breasts expanding one tiny bit more, tightening the stretched human skin to the absolute limit. Her human breasts were full beyond imagining, bulging with the soft bulk of her monstrous chest, and they were growing heavier, hornier. She knew instinctively what was happening.

She was aching to milk!

She looked down at Darius. It turned her on to see his body, once admired for its strength, brought low by her might. The ache in her pussy grew stronger. Her clitoral erection was starting to throb. She reached out with her draconic hands and cupped the heft of her breasts, raising them, feeling the hot weight. She was so close, but it wasn't enough. She needed more fear, more shame. Her husband needed to fear her raw sexual might!

She stepped over him, straddling his body. She was going to hump his face. He was going to drown in pussy--her tight, fat, thick throbbing pussy! She squatted, snarling, wordlessly threatening. Darius didn't move while she lowered her crotch. Her tail slid about, sliming across his chest, writhing over his shoulder--then she felt his throat with the living bulk of her tail, and with a shudder of real anger, she started wrapping it like a python around his thick fucking neck.

He froze. She tightened. Darius choked out a single, fearful noise--but she slammed her dripping hot aching pussy onto his mouth and nose and buried him in her hunched groin, and the tail coiling around him kept him still.

She wasn't going to choke him. In mere moments, she'd give him a second to breathe, but he didn't have to know that. He only had to be terrified by her furious sexuality.

"Do you remember," she asked softly, "when you asked me to swallow your cock?"

There was a moan, brief and stifled from him.

"Choke on my cunt, you bitch of a man," she said louder, forcing her pussy against him harder, pushing his head tight against the stone. She groaned, needing something more from this, something to send her over the edge. She lifted her hips very slightly--air rushed in.

Darius gasped. In went a wet breath--out came a single word. "Briar--"

"Quiet!" she shouted, tightening her tail. Darius didn't say another word. She shuddered with anger, then fell forward onto her hands, massive tits hanging off her chest, pushing her erect clitoris into his face. "Suck my clit, you fucking coward!"

And to her massive, intense relief, she felt him purse his lips, raise his head against her tail and start sucking on her rock hard button, sucking so intensely that she could feel him pulling on the vulva around it, yanking his head back to bump on the stone, trying fervently to make her cum. Pulse after pulse of escalating pleasure and pressure gathered in her pussy as he sucked on her clitoral erection and mashed his mouth against her swollen labia and clitoral bulbs.

She gasped, twitching as she ground her mound against his face, then righted herself to let him cleanly suck clit again. "You're my whore now," she said, feeling his tongue lap at her thundering pussy. She groaned with pleasure. "You're my little snatch-munching harlot." He'd so often said similar things to her while taking her body, calling her filthy and wicked. She'd longed to shout them back, to have the same power. "You cunt-lapping dog!"

She glanced back over her shoulder. To her joy, she saw his large penis laying across his belly, fully erect. Her genitals were too beautiful, and her actions too fervent to ignore. Even with his throat still wrapped and his breath labored, he instinctually found her arousing.

Briar ground slowly, humping his face with her hard clit and her swollen soft pussy. Her breathing was growing shorter, tighter. It felt so good to feel his tongue dragging on her soft hairy pussy, interspersed with his lips tugging at her pulsing clit. She sat up and reached between her thighs with her dragon hands, grabbing the sides of his head and weaving her fingers through his hair. "How do you feel, coward?" She pulled him tighter to her groin. "You're mine to fuck."

He groaned at the pressure of her dripping crotch against his face. She started to rub him against her pussy, rocking her hips, hunching and humping his face. It wasn't even about his sucking anymore. Her dominance was by itself arousing. She was monstrously female. Her pussy was something to fear and worship at once.

Hump. Hump. Hump. She fucked his face. Her massive breasts were sloshing, sending arcs of stimulation up through their heft. Hump. Hump. Faster, she humped, mashing her whole mound against him, feeling her clit grind irregularly on mouth and cheek and nose. It didn't matter, she was humping his fucking face and he couldn't stop her! Hump, hump, hump!

"You like this, you bitch, you worthless tramp!" she shouted, humping him so quickly that there were wet slaps of her aching, throbbing pussy mound as it slapped his mouth over and over. "I saw your stiff cock!" Thick and erect for her, making her holes ache, hungry for penetration. "You!" Hump! "Love!" Hump! "This!" She started a series of convulsive humps that made her entire pussy scream with joy, her clit a bursting with arousal.

But still she needed more, she needed... she had to... Urgh! It wasn't working!

Briar stopped humping Darius just short of cumming, unable to cum. She dropped his head. He gasped for breath. She could hardly breathe for the tension. She shouted, "Tear me open!"

"Ivy--" Darius said, instinct driving him to misname her.

"Fuck Ivy!" Briar shouted, needing to cum so badly that her legs were shaking. "Destroy her! Rip open your wife's pussy. Birth my pussy through hers, or I'll squeeze your throat!"

He reached up with shaking, terrified hands.

"Grab my lips!" Briar roared.

His rough, thick fingers touched the tender edges of her human labia. The pain of arousal was too much to bear. Now, now...

"Grab them!"

He slid his fingers into her vagina, then found the false nature of her skin--and he grabbed Ivy's pussy lips, hooking them with his fingers. Briar felt such intense desire for this moment, this destruction, that her breasts started to cum before her pussy could. Each human nipple, swollen and red, dilated under the erotic pressure, and her wildly erect dark dragon nipples began thrusting through her human nipples, emerging from within their holes, milk beading...

"Destroy my pussy!" she screamed.

He pulled without enough force--her entire body stiffened, her whole form primed to burst--then yanked once--her thick dragon nipples crescendoed, thrusting fully through her human nipples, ripping through her skin, annihilating her human tits in a storm of orgasm, each massive erect nipple cumming in a thick white squirt of hot milk--and he yanked twice, and her human pussy, denied release for so long, unleashed her orgasm like a bursting dam.

Briar roared with fully body coitus, quaking with pleasure as Ivy's pussy ripped in twain, meaty labia tearing apart, pressure being taken off the swollen inner cunt, her true dark clit cumming as her thicker, fatter pussy lips were born bulging from within her human pussy.

Her real vagina, yes, and jizzing! Hnngh!

Finally naked, her cumming dragoness pussy disgorged the beastly queen of all female loads. Her skene glands discharged a pint of sticky translucent fluid in massive squirt after massive squirt, hips bucking as she ejaculated again and again onto Darius's awestruck face. Once upon a time, he'd sprinkled Ivy's brow in his cum; now she painted his head in her hot spurts.

Cum, cum! She was triumphant! Finally, she could feel herself become herself, as her own real vagina was bared and cummed. She was as good as naked. The shape and form were more human, but her vagina was her own again, and it felt glorious as it cummed. Relief from humanity. Relief from all that tension. Relief pulsing out of her pussy, load after load until it was gone, and all that remained was the content dragoness, Briar.

Her breasts squirted milk irregularly onto the stones, splashing thin lines of wetness. Her pussy echoed with aftershocks of orgasm, making her twitch and drip. She placed her hands on her sternum, sunk her claws into the skin, and tore her human chest open, peeling the stretched hide off her breasts, splitting open her cleavage, ripping apart the skin on her torso like a thin nightgown of Ivy's flesh. Her massive milky breasts were unleashed, swaying and heavy on her heaving chest. A few more gentle spurts of milk shot from her engorged nipples. Then slowly, she tore the skin down to that false belly button.

Darius was dazed. His head had been hammered, though relatively gently by soft pussy, and he'd been choked and soaked. Briar loosened her tail and stood, stepping away from him, letting him stare up into that endless grey sky to see whatever stars or fires that danced through his bleary eyes. He didn't even bother to wipe his face. He blinked until his vision was clear, then relaxed fully, letting himself go limp on the cool stones. Slowly, so slowly, his erect cock softened, no longer stimulated by the fury of her sexuality.

Memory was hers again. The memory of Ivy slotted into its place in history, an assumed identity, not one foisted on her. Briar recalled now how much power she controlled--how the strengths of enchantment and metamorphosis were hers to wield.

No, no, her thoughts were getting jumbled. First, to be rid of the last of this falsehood. She grabbed the senseless flaps of Ivy's labia and pulled them apart, ripping the skin up to her belly button, finishing the job of halving Ivy from face to crotch. She sliced open the skin on her shoulders and thighs. Now what skin remained rested across her back, still stuck tight, but no longer necessary. She no longer needed to hide her wings.

She knew where they were, so she flexed them. Instantly, her full human back bulged grotesquely, a cocoon of expanding flesh, which then slowly, mercifully ripped open with a long meaty sound, splitting along her spine from the nape of her neck to the base of her tail. Slimy, wet wings unfolded, pushing aside the split skin, shedding it. Wet and heavy and empty, the half-shredded remains of Ivy fell from her body and collapsed at her feet. The sundered face of the maiden was still visible, a torn ruin of shocked humanity, one that'd been annihilated to become the monster within, the monster that'd been hidden in plain sight inside a beautiful girl.

Briar was so happy to be that monster again, to be the complete beast. She spread her wings to their fullest span, each nearly as broad as her body was long. The shade of her black membranes was cast over Darius's prone figure, shadow over shadow.

She marveled at how much she'd changed in that little human container. Her current form was chosen by instinct and desire. Before this, she would've sworn that she would've preferred her original, feral form. As it was, she could return to it at will. She could do almost anything at will. But for now, she wanted to remain this close to human. It made her... happy.

She was no longer quite so angry, because the truth was so simple. Ophelia never had the power to enchant a dragon and change her form. Ophelia was a powerful witch, yes, but she was Briar's student. No, Briar had created the identity of Ivy. She'd prepared the golden rings to hide herself in a human form. Darius thought he'd saved her, but it was the other way around.

Briar had spared Darius and his men.

When he and his army had come to kill her, Briar had faced a difficult choice--either to slay them all in a display of might, or to hide and spare them from a hopeless battle.

Briar had learned the story of the Blackroots from Ophelia, and she'd pitied the man and his suicide mission. Briar had planned the transformation into Ivy. She'd recruited Ophelia to convince Sir Blackroot that he and the witch were responsible for hiding Briar away.

Darius thought he'd done her a great wrong by attacking her, but she'd done him a great favor by saving him from an untimely death in the marshes.

She let her wings relax. Darius was still responsible to some degree. He'd fouled the plan. She'd meant to hide for a few weeks, return to her true self and fly back to the wilds. Instead, he had done something unpredictable, something she hadn't even imagined he would do.

Instead of treating her false human persona as a hidden monster behind a lovely mask, he'd treated her with respect and admiration and eventually love. He'd authentically taken advantage of the dragoness and wooed her limited, weak little false self. He'd plunged his pathetic little penis into the folds of her body and made her shake and shudder with joy, as if he'd been given a right to keep her. No, the plan had been the free her, not to hump her over and over for years.

He'd lied to her, letting her worry endlessly about bearing him a child, never telling her that he was depositing his human seed into a dragon's womb.

Darius's breathing was slowing. He was reaching a point of despair. She could see it now. He'd just been forced to rip open his wife's pretty little pussy mound and see the monster's pussy underneath. The experience must've been harrowing. Not only was his wife gone--he had to split her open and see that the creature inside was also a woman, a beautiful woman, and he'd been plunging his cock into her pussy for years--her animal pussy--but without her permission. Her fuzzy little human pussy lips had been a poor excuse for that trespass. He was lucky that she'd enjoyed his penetration with such fervor. If he hadn't loved her and been an attentive lover, she would've already spread his intestines across the stones.

As it was, looking at him, she was conflicted. The reason she was humanoid was simple. She still loved him. For what she'd been, he had truly done his best by her, and in the end, he'd even admitted his crime to her. Before she could control the magic, she'd already selected a shape that would appeal to him. Before she'd known who she was, she'd already planned to remain his mate. Her memories weren't false either. She'd authentically loved him for five years now.

It was only during her transformation that her real anger had blossomed. He'd failed to free her, and though she didn't regret a single second of those five years, he'd truly done her wrong. He'd taken what was not his to take, even if she would've given it freely once asked.

Now she loved him and resented him simultaneously for their lives together.

She laid down on her belly, resting on her more flexible joints, curling up beneath the grey sky to dry. Before she flew this place, she had to decide what to do with the human she loved.

Darius didn't move from where he laid. While she watched him, he did what only a veteran soldier could--he napped to save his energy.

Briar turned her head about on her lengthened neck and tried to keep her tender nipples resting on her folded arms. The milk in her breasts hadn't dried up and wouldn't for a few hours yet. She scanned the roof of the castle. She would destroy this place as Darius had suggested. Today, the Blackroot lineage would end, and Blackroot castle would end with it.

Slowly, she came up with a suitable punishment.

She rose after maybe only ten minutes, and Darius opened his eyes to slowly follow her. She stood on her legs, enjoying the still human gait balanced by her strong tail, allowing her to lean forward a little. Four of the five golden rings remained in one form or another. She collected them one by one in her arms, holding them tight to her belly, and she brought them back to Darius.

"Sit up," she said, her voice still harsh but no longer cruel.

Darius pushed himself onto his ass, still looking drained and defeated. He sat there, naked and a little cold, and he watched her arrange the four gold objects in front of him.

"Do you see these?" she asked.

"I do," he said sadly.

"I want you to know who made these," she said.

"Ophelia?" Darius asked quietly.

"I made them," Briar said. "Ophelia told me the story of the Blackroots. She convinced me that it was worth saving your sorry lineage from extinction at my hands." She sat cross legged before him. "So I became a human to hide myself. Then you could pretend I was dead."

"You did this?" he asked. He seemed sadder, and why not? She was showing him that all the good he'd done was her fault, not his. She'd transformed for him out of pity, and he'd repaid her kindness by making her keep that limited, weak form for nearly five years.

"I did, and you took advantage of me," she said.

"I deserve whatever punishment--"

"Shush," Briar said, not harshly, but Darius was already silent before the word was done.

He looked into her eyes, and she looked into his, and she wondered if she betrayed love through them, or if he could only see her golden irises.

She looked away first, casting her gaze down onto the four golden objects. "I know you cared for me, Darius. I can remember every last detail of our time together. You only cared for me."

He cast his eyes down too.

"So I'm going to instill each of these golden artifacts with a curse." Briar reached out and touched the disc. "Each one would bestow you with a new form for five years, Darius. You would remember who you were and what you did, but you'd be trapped, to live or to die in that shape until your time was finished."

"Do you want me to die?" Darius asked, his voice almost a whisper.

"No," Briar said. "I'm won't force you to choose a form either. I'd be willing to let you go. If you're afraid of dying, or if you think this penance is unfair, or if you aren't truly sorry for what you've done--then you can go."

"Why?"

"I transformed to save your life. I won't kill you and undo what I've suffered for."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't just say the words. Choose, or choose to leave. This..." She tapped a claw on the disc. "This one will turn you into a rat. Then you can crawl in garbage." She touched the spiral. "This one will turn you into a toad. Then you can hide under stones." She touched the rod. "This one will turn you into a vulture. Then you can feast on carrion." She touched the sphere. "This one will turn you into a snake. Then you can slither, limbless and cold."

Darius stared at the objects. "If I choose..."

"Yes?"

"What will happen afterwards?"

"If you're alive," Briar said, "then you can return to your life."

"Nothing else?" he asked slowly.

Briar felt her heart quicken, but she kept her voice steady. "What else would there be?"

Darius looked up to meet her gaze. "Forgiveness?"

Briar's heart beat harder. She'd wanted to keep this part of his penance a secret, but she couldn't help herself. If he asked, she had to say something. "Yes," she said. But she would say nothing more. To do so would poison the choice.

Darius took a long, slow breath. "I won't leave," he said. "Your forgiveness is worth any price."

"Then choose," Briar said.

He looked at the golden sphere. "A snake is loathsome but strong. I don't deserve that strength."

Briar reached out and took the sphere, pulling it closer to herself. "What then?"

He looked at the disc. "A rat is agile and warm in its coat. I don't deserve that safety."

She pulled back the disc silently.

He looked at the rod. "A vulture can fly. I don't deserve that freedom."

She took way the rod. "So a toad?"

"Witches are said to turn men into toads. Weak, soft and hideous." Darius looked up at Briar, and for a brief moment, there was a flicker of a smile on his face. "I left you weak and soft, Briar. But you were never hideous. If any of these are a fair punishment, it's this one."

"Then take the spiral," Briar said. "Or leave."

Darius reached out and held his hand over the golden spiral. He hesitated.

"What are you waiting for?" Briar asked.

"I'm afraid," Darius said.

Briar said nothing. She only waited. He could always leave. He might yet still leave...

"I suppose that's the point," he said, and he reached down and clasped the spiral in his hand. He winced, expecting something, but nothing happened. He glanced at her. She didn't respond, so he waited, eyes on the stones, for the punishment to begin. Still, nothing.

Briar realized she hadn't been breathing. Slowly, she took in a breath, but the tension wouldn't leave her chest. Her eyes were welling up with tears. "Darius," she said hoarsely, "you fucking dog." She wiped her scaled lids with the back of her hands. "Thank you."

He clasped the spiral tighter. "I deserve this," he muttered.

"Release that useless piece of metal," Briar said.

Darius yanked his hand back. "Why? What happened?"

"You were willing to become a toad for me."

"I would do anything--"

Briar interrupted, scooting forward, closing the distance. She was clearly taller than him, even seated, so he had to look up into her draconic eyes. "Do you love me still?"

Darius stared up at her. "I don't understand?"

"You do," Briar said, "so stop trying to play a game and answer me. Do you love me? Me?"

"Yes, I mean, yes."

She grabbed his shoulders.

He looked her in the eyes and said the honest truth--"I love you."

She yanked him into her breasts, smashing his little hard chest against her overwhelming softness, causing some of her milk to gush out over his skin. His head rested against her sternum, held there by a claw, and his expression was pained, not with fear but with hope. He was afraid to hug her back. Then she released him.

He straightened a little, ignoring the white fluid dripping off his chest hair. "I love you, Briar, I love Briar. I mean, I love who you are, always. You are who you are, yes?"

"I'm still me," Briar said, "just all of me." She could feel her tail involuntarily twisting and wagging on the stone behind her. She was so excited she could barely contain her feelings. He'd been truly sorry! He'd been willing to give up his humanity for her sake, because he really did love her, because he'd meant every second of love he'd given her when she was Ivy.

Darius was closing his legs together. His cock was a little turgid after being held against her humongous warm breasts. "Do you love me?"

"You were willing to be a toad for me," she said. "Would you be willing to be a dragon instead?"

He opened his legs a little, his cock stiffening further. "A dragon?" Then he waved his hand through the air, as if clearing away his own stupid question. "Yes!" he shouted.

"Then yes!" Briar shouted back. "I love you too!"

Darius started forward, wanting to lunge into her form, but her shape and size were intimidating surely. He hesitated, so she reached down instead, grabbing him by the armpits and lifting him up as she stood, lifting him high and spinning once around on her feet, wings and tail balancing her turn as she pulled him into her chest. He threw his arms around her strong neck and she felt their bodies press together, her breasts smashed between them. Now that he was holding on, she reached around his back and squeezed until he could hardly breathe, feeling his smaller body press against her warm smooth scales.

The hug lasted for nearly half a minute before she let him go. He landed and stumbled back half a step. "What now?" he asked, still close to her, almost within the comfort of her embrace. She'd been so frightening moments before. Now she was instantly comforting.

She let him press gently into her breasts and lay the side of his sticky head against her sternum. She stroked his back with her claws, tenderly scratching but not hard enough to hurt him. "You're my mate now," she said.

Darius nodded, already accepting.

"As a woman, I'll always be bigger and stronger than you now," she said. "That's how dragons are. You'll be my mate, understand?" If he'd been born a dragon, he would've been smaller still. His relative size would be exceptional for a male, which suited her fine.

"I think so. How will this happen though?" he asked.

She pushed him back and held his shoulders again. "You will permanently become a dragon. There won't be any time limits. There won't be any going back. You will be destroyed as Ivy was, and the dragon will rip out of your body, and he will be you."

"My skin?" he asked.

"Shed just the same," she said, "but don't worry. I'll make sure it feels really carnal. Just like it did for me. It'll feel really, really good." She reached down with her right hand and gently cupped his heavy balls. "I'll make sure you cum."

Before he could spring a full erection, she let go. "Now, you'll need a little draconic essence in you. Normally, I'd use blood, but now?" She rubbed the side of one heavy, tender breast. "Milk."

He reached out and gently touched the sides of each massive, warm firm breast. Her nipples stiffened in anticipation, each one erect and ready to be sucked. "Once from each nipple," she said, "drink deep, but feel them first."

He gently squeezed their soft heft, then brought his hands forward to touch and tickle her broad, swollen areola and erogenous nipples. "I only have these because of you," she whispered. "So you could feel them and suck them again."

He stroked her tits, feeling the heat of her flesh and the dampness of the milk on his palms.

She purred as he opened his mouth and filled it with her thick left nipple. His beard brushed on her breast; he sucked gently, pulling his head back...

"Don't be shy, drink!" she commanded.

He sucked hard--and with a shudder of joy, Briar felt her milk come down and gush out of her stretched nipple, filling his mouth with her heat and sweetness. It made her clit stiffen again. He swallowed without releasing, then sucked again, and her nipple sank deeper into his mouth and gushed longer, and she felt the joy of that erotic pressure unleashing from her breast and flowing into his mouth. Then he swallowed and pulled back, and with a pop his lips came off her dark tit, slathered in his sticky saliva and jutting after being milked.

Briar muttered, "I love having breasts," and she gently nudged his head towards her right nipple. Again, he dove in. Again, he sucked deep, once, twice, and swallowing her fertile milk.

Both tender horny nipples now stood cooling in the air, having been relieved partially of the milk in her heavy breasts. Her chest was heaving. She was horny again, sure as the sun rises, but she was going to restrain herself. If she could let out the rest of the milk, it'd be such a relief--but later, later. She watched Darius wipe his lips and stand there, breathing through his mouth. His growing erection--huge for a human--seemed almost pathetic by draconic standards.

That'd change soon enough, she imagined. "I can make you hatch," she said. "Is there anything you wish to do or say before you lose your humanity?"

Darius stood straight. "Only one question," he said.

"Go on."

"Do you forgive me for all the things I've done?"

"It will take time," Briar said, "but yes, I forgive you."

"For everything?" Darius asked.

"For everything. The way I am? These breasts? These hips? Proof of my feelings."

"Thank you," he said.

"You're mine," she said, "and I'll be happy to have you."

She only had to desire his change in the right way, in the slanted way of magic. The sweetness of milk was on his breath--and the essence of a dragon too. She reached out and grabbed the air with her hand, just so, and the essence was caught on her fingertips, soft and laced with threads of energy. She tugged on them, tightening them, tangling them all the way into his belly. The air began to warp, as if seen through a bead of water. She twisted the threads into knots with a sweep of her wrist, then hooked them on a claw tip and pushed them towards Darius's brow.

"I can see it," he said.

She pushed the bundle into his skin, and surely now he could feel it too, like a bead of hot wax. He flinched--then she pulled away, and she could see the knots untwisting on his crown, the threads spreading like a blossom of gossamer and settling over his body.

Then, all at once, they tightened and sank into his naked flesh, and though they cut nothing physical, they ripped into his soul and took hold, a tension to pull him into a new shape forever.

"There," Briar said, "it's done."

Darius gritted his teeth and tensed. Every muscle was lined with burning fire. A single thread of energy was strung from the base of his cock to the flared head of his eight inch erection. His asshole was clenching tight. His ballsack was tense, pulled up towards his groin. His skin tingled from head to toe, as if every hair was slowly being uprooted from beneath. Shallow beard and pubic hair too. Everything ached--not in pain or pleasure, but in pressure and potential.

Then the threads suffused, branching out over and over, thinning and splitting until he couldn't feel any particular lines at all, and the energy of magic was spread beneath his skin.

Darius blinked sweat out of his eyes. Only moments ago, the autumn air had seemed too cool for comfort. Now it wasn't chill enough for the heat sweeping through his bones.

"How does it feel?" Briar asked.

He looked over the tall dragoness--his beautiful mate. Something about his vision was changing--or maybe his mind? She'd already been arousing in a strange, perverse way, with a fat ass, and a thick pussy, and breasts so fertile and massive that no human could have carried them. She'd been strong too, muscular, athletic and massively feminine at once, an amazonian beauty... but there was more to her yet. He was beginning to see the feminine beauty in the sweep of her horns. He could see the gorgeous thrust of her lovely snout, surely a woman's beautiful maw... Clean, shining teeth. Smooth, broad wings. Eyes of gold... Oh gods, he was beginning to see that she was an absolutely gorgeous dragoness.

Soon, he would be able to crouch over her bent ass and slide his cock into her tight wet pussy and pump her until she was squirming and squirting. He would be allowed to fuck her. He'd be invited to fuck her. This amazing creature loved him. He could already envision her muzzle opened with a cry of orgasm, her tongue flicking at the air, her wings shuddering and flapping with pleasure, her back arched and her breasts full... Gods!

"You're more beautiful than before," he said, his breathy voice tinged with awe.

She smiled--he could recognize that expression now. "Do I make your little penis hard?" she said, sweetly mocking.

He glanced down. His glans was engorged to the point of being purple. He hadn't been this horny since the first time he'd bedded her as a human. The entire shaft seemed to pulse with his heartbeat, straining with pressure. He was more erect than he could remember.

She continued to berate him, working herself up with her dominance and aggression. "Too bad little soldier Darius won't fuck me. Not that I'd feel such a small thing..." She shuddered, clearly anticipating the opposite--she ached for penetration. "Not even if he slid that little rod into my pussy or my asshole." She quickly rubbed her clitoris through its hood, palming her vulva and making her little clit stiffen with stimulation. Darius could sense that she was the leader now, that dragonesses were sexually aggressive. To be mates was a partnership, a mutual bond born in mutual satisfaction, but Briar was enjoying her natural dominance in erotic play.

Darius already knew, he would have to submit to her often, but his reaction surprised him. He wasn't upset. Rather, her sexual dominance was one of the reasons he was so fucking horny now. He wanted to be ruled by her. He felt it in his throbbing cock. She was a queen, and he was merely a knight, obedient to the whims of the fat pussy he worshipped.

So he played along. "I'll relieve myself then." He reached down for his cock, gripping his shaft.

She snarled. "Let go of that cock!"

He dropped his penis, but he only felt harder at her shout.

"I own that cock, you little whelp," she said. "Don't touch it without my permission."

"Yes, my queen," he said. "My apologies."

Briar grew more delighted with every passing second. She loved the idea of being a queen, Darius could tell. She spoke in harsh tones, but the words came out fast. She was far more excited. "You're barely fit to be my knight. Look at you, rutting like a ram, as if you I'd let you touch a queen with that pathetic human penis."

"How can I serve you?" Darius asked, bowing his head to her.

Briar's tail whipped with excitement. "Take off those hideous boots and gloves. I won't have that filth in my presence. Take them off, or I forbid you from touching your queen."

Darius looked at his hands and feet. Of course, he still appeared human, even if his mind and soul were already changing. Hearing her commands, he began to feel something in his fingertips and toes, a kind of pleasant pressure. His hands began to feel hot; the muscles in his arms and legs began to twitch. She wanted to see the limbs of a dragon, and if he did... she might let him touch that beautiful body again. Stroke those glorious breasts, clasp those hips, finger that pussy and ass, touch a horn or caress a cheek--he needed something, anything!

He hunched over a bit, grunting, holding his hands claw-like before his chest. He began to beg for it, to strain for it. Please, he said to himself, please begin to transform. He felt his spine shift and crack a touch, but little else happened in his torso. He wanted it more and more, the very thought of it making his cock ache so dearly. If he became a monster, he could fuck his mate--he could feel her touch against his body and bury his cock in her.

Only if he became a beast--urgh!

He strained to flex claws he didn't have, tension in every finger, and the pressure behind his fingertips rose and rose until it almost hurt and his nails seemed to bulge... Just a touch more, he thought, just a touch more and then it won't stop until I'm a dragon.

"Hurry!" Briar demanded. Whether she faked impatience or was truly anxious, he couldn't tell. "I demand you strip off those gloves this instant!"

"Yes queen!" he said, breaking out in a hot sweat across his brow.

She thrust her chest out and put her hands under her tremendous breasts, lifting them and pushing them out, making their already firm masses seem absurd. Her humongous nipples were erect again, and milk was beading on the tips of each fat tit. "Bare hands may touch them."

He couldn't take it! He had to touch her, to make love to her. The monster inside him needed her more than anything. He needed out of this pathetic skin. He needed--yes!

With snaps and tears, he forced his claws to extend, and they tore through his nails and fingertips, splitting them open in wet meaty bursts and slowly sliding out of his calloused skin, slimy and shining. His claws! Finally, his claws!

He reached down to his elbow without thinking and sank the claws into the flesh. They tore through the skin bloodlessly, instantly, and he clenched the hairy hide and yanked towards his free hand. In a long, sticky pull of pink meat, he pulled the skin back along his arm like a glove, turning it inside out and tearing it open, and revealing a bulging, lengthening forearm coated in black scales, a thicker black wrist, and in a final wet slurp of tearing skin, he pulled a massive draconic hand out of his human one, fingers longer but just as thick. The sleeve of ruined, hairy flesh, now mostly inside out, was useless. He dropped it on the stones.

Briar clenched her hands, giddy with excitement. Her mate was transforming!

With a similar motion, he reached down with his dragon arm and grabbed the other human elbow, cutting the skin with even greater ease, yanking off the hairy human in a messier single pull, skin ripping noisily and wetly as it was pulled over his expanding hand and torn along the back of his forearm. The draconic limb nearly burst out of the human, scales glistening, and after he dropped the annihilated skin, he had to go back and pick off rings of human flesh still caught and stretched over beastly fingers.

"Boots!" Briar called out.

Darius knelt as if he were attending to a shoe, and he sunk his claws into the flesh around the standing knee. Grabbing the hairy flesh as if it were a stocking, he pulled down, baring a more muscular calf, a thicker shin, and simultaneous to the pull, the skin of his feet tore apart, soles bursting, toenails splitting. His stance changed to rest on the balls of his larger feet, and he pulled the skin down into a messy pile, which he threw aside.

He switched to the other leg, barely having the skin halfway down the calf before his tender foot split like a seed, annihilating skin and nail and changing shape to a feral form.

He tossed aside that layer of skin too and stood, now a little taller on shifted feet but still comfortable and balanced. His erection bobbed heavily with the motion, still eager for his mate. He flexed his new fingers and felt their dexterity and strength in every motion.

"Better," she said, "now come here."

He took two steps to meet her and raised his hands to stroke her--and she hissed.

"Slowly, whelp," she said, "they're tender. Some animal suckled at them only a minute ago."

"Yes, queen," he said, and he gently reached out with his drying hands and touched the sides of her massive, soft breasts. Even after touching them multiple times, he was still amazed by the improvement of her draconic form, the absurd ideal realized through tougher draconic flesh. These breasts rivalled the gorgeous monstrosities carved onto the statues of fertility goddesses; each was bigger than Briar's head, more sensitive, more erect and aroused.

He wanted to reach out and drink again, but he knew that wasn't allowed. He was only here to touch until she said otherwise. Slowly, he moved his hands towards her areolae and nipples, sliding his hands down, briefly lifting the weight of her milky boobs, then stroking his palms up the curve of her massive, heaving breasts--until...

Briar gasped when his fingers touched her sensitive thick nipples. He cupped her areolae, each almost as large as his palm and puffy. Milk leaked out of her nipple and onto his hand, dribbling down his wrist. "Your scales," she whispered tautly, an erotic ache. "They feel so much better when touched by scales..." She gasped as he shifted his grip and put his fingers on either side of the puffy mounds of her areolae.

"My queen?" he asked.

"Milk me, knight," she said.

In one gentle, orgasmic squeeze, he pulled each tit towards him and squeezed the breast behind each nipple, and her chest shivered with coitus as her horny nipples squirted milk onto Darius's face and chest. Briar's breath was labored and short. Her tits were definitely cumming.

He let go, and she took this opportunity to gently push him away. "Enough!" she said, milk gently gushing again and again in time with aftershocks of orgasm clenching her lungs. The last touch of orgasm ended, and the milk dribbled and stopped, running in sweet lines before dripping from the bottoms of each humongous breast.

But it wasn't enough, not for Darius. His cock was enraged with desire. He wanted to drink her again, bury his face in her cleavage, squeeze her breasts harder, kiss her pussy, rub her, bend her over, clenching her tail to his chest and fucking her asshole. Anything, something, gods!

There was another crack of bone in his spine, and Darius could feel something unfurling, changing slightly, coming alive. A new limb at his rump. "My queen," he whispered tensely.

"Speak, knight," she said, legs apart. Slick lubricant was now running from her fat pussy, literally dripping down her inner thighs. Thin, mucusy, slimy--perfect for lubing up a massive dick and filling her tight dragon pussy to its limit.

Another crack interrupted Darius before he could speak. His jaw locked for a moment, and he felt his human muzzle jut--just a little bit--while his teeth sharpened and slid further from his gums, filling in the space with a carnivorous row. He grimaced, baring his teeth.

Briar smiled at his change but didn't let up, taunting him for his silence. "Speak, whelp!"

His jaw released, and he breathed deep for a couple of seconds. Yet another crack of bone at his rump, and he knew for sure now--"With your permission, my queen, I'm growing a tail."

Briar's eyes lit up. "Turn about," she said.

He turned his back to her. Suddenly, he felt her warm hand at his muscular ass cheek, gently groping, then moving up to feel where his tailbone met his pelvis. Sure enough, there was a slight lump of new flesh there, sensitive even through his skin.

"There is," she whispered greedily. Her hands wandered back down to his ass cheeks. She groped his bottom, pulling his buttocks apart experimentally, baring his asshole. She reached between his legs and gently touched his heavy testicles where they hung. There was another crack of bone, another shift of the foretold tail.

"My queen," Darius whispered urgently, beginning to feel pressure in his butthole.

"Did you enjoy fucking my human ass, you little harlot?" Briar asked. She slapped his buttock and groped harder. "Don't lie to me, tramp."

"I did," he said, beginning to shiver with anticipation.

"Did what?" she asked venomously.

"Fucked your human ass," he said obediently.

She slapped the other cheek harder, not enough to really hurt but enough to feel a momentary sting. Then she rubbed his buttocks with her hands, scooting in closer so that her heavy, milky breasts touched his shoulders and back. Horny erect nipples pressed against his skin. "Good. Do you know how it felt for me?"

"No, my queen."

She leveled her maw next to his ear, whispering so quietly that it felt like a secret admission more than dirty talk. "Wonderful," she said, "I loved having a cock up my asshole." She gently licked his ear and shuddered, breasts jiggling against him. "I fell in love with butts."

"Me too," he whispered back, both terrified and excited by her groping at his ass.

"The only thing I loved quite as much," Briar whispered, now grabbing his hips, "was my cumming butt when I pushed my tail out of my asshole." She pulled his buttocks against her smooth groin. He could feel the dampness of her fat pussy, so close to his skin, yet so far from his aching hyper-erect penis. She bent over a little, cupping his butt against her crotch and making him bend over a touch too. Then slowly, sensually, she began to grind on his ass.

"My queen," he said, wishing she'd just reach around and grab his penis and jerk--it'd barely take anything--and he'd finally get to cum!

She kept grinding, humping his buttocks. "Do you want to grow a tail?"

The pressure in his ass felt so good, and the anticipation was rising with every hump of her wet crotch on his buttocks. "Yes, queen."

"Do you want to have sex with me?" Briar asked.

"Yes, queen!"

"Mmm!" she said, gently slapping her hips into his rear. "Do you want to feel it in your asshole?"

Darius wanted anything, something, anything. Right now, having Briar finger his asshole would be enough. Her heavy wet breasts sloshed on his back. Her pussy was so close, he could smell her! His penis was slapping against his belly, waving with every thrust of her hips. "Yes, queen!" he nearly shouted, voice ragged with lust.

She released his hips and pushed him a step away. "That's not what a noble knight wants," she said, "That's what a whore wants. I'll make your butt cum again and again." She pointed to the stones. "Now, on your hands and knees, you little whore!"

Darius did as he was told, glancing back twice at his towering mate before falling to his draconic hands and legs. His butt was throbbing with anticipation, but he wasn't sure what she would do.

Briar kneeled behind him, petting his ass with her hands. He was muscular and broad, the kind of ass a girl wanted in a man. She adjusted his legs, then pushed on the small of his back to make him bend over further. Gods, she'd loved it when he'd buttfucked her, when she'd been his little squirming harlot. Now it was his turn on hands and knees, and she lusted for his ass, to watch it fill with tail and make him cum. She would buttfuck his ass however she could, and he would be the squirming little anal harlot crouched beneath her body.

She kissed one of his buttocks with her snout, then reached down between his thighs and found his genitals. Gently, so gently, she pulled on his tense ballsack to help it relax. She found his massive cock, and only touching the shaft, she angled it down to look at it between his legs.

Briar's clit got hard just looking at his cock and balls from behind. He was huge and male and hanging erect below his bent over ass. She loved that. He looked so fuckable. She could already imagine his penis flopping while she humped his butthole. And to imagine, his dick was a pale pink little worm compared to the monstrous cock that would burst out of it soon. All of it--ass, cock, balls--all of it would rip open soon to release her mate's most erogenous parts.

Darius made an involuntary whining sound. He could feel the hot breath of Briar on his bare ass, and her hands were so carefully playing with his cock and balls while avoiding the head. She let go of his penis briefly--then he felt a damp touch as Briar traced a wet finger down from his rump and into his ass crack. She touched his asshole, hot and pulsing--but she didn't penetrate. Instead, she pulled her finger out and spread his ass with her hands.

"Look at that boy butt," Briar whispered, getting more and more turned on by being the woman who would hump a man, more and more excited with anticipation. "There's a dragon in you," she said, slightly louder. "Are you going to push him out of your asshole, harlot? Is he going to fuck your boy butt by growing his tail?"

As if called forth, Darius could feel an involuntary crack of bone, a violent shift of flesh, growing, sliding erotically under the skin and down between his buttocks, preparing to emerge though his asshole. He shuddered, and Briar pushed on his back again, pushing his chest down to the stone, making him bend over further until his ass cheeks were spread before her gaze.

Briar gently slapped an ass cheek. "Your butt turns me on, tramp." She grabbed his hips to steady him. "You have a cute little human cock too. It makes me wet."

Hearing a woman say these things about his ass was driving Darius to the edge. Combined with the intense anal throbbing of his growing tail, he wondered if he'd cum before she did anything to him. He tried to hold it in. He struggled with all his might to wait until she did something to him. He didn't know what it would be, but he wanted it to happen so badly, he could barely stand to wait.

Briar kissed the other ass cheek with her snout. "I can't wait to see your butthole full of tail." She brought her dragoness snout close to his asshole, until her breath was blowing on his sphincter. There was something she wanted to do, but it wasn't in character--it wasn't dominant--but it was so tempting. She was such an ass slut herself. She loved how it felt to play with her bottom, and she wanted Darius to feel it too. Until today, she hadn't had the confidence to tell Darius that he had a sexy ass. She hadn't believed he would choose to share this feeling, this anal passion. She worshipped his ass, and it turned her on so much to imagine his anal pleasure. Her nose was nearly buried between his ass cheeks, and that position, so close to his bent over butt and his vulnerable asshole--she was nearly shuddering with desire.

Darius was trying to be submissive, but he was clearly thinking the same things. He was into it. He wanted it. He wanted her, beautiful sexy Briar, to give it to him. He bent over further and pushed his butt into her snout, and he felt her warm muzzle press up against his asshole.

For a moment, they weren't playing at queen and knight. They were mates with horny butts.

Briar opened her maw, pressed her lips tight to his asshole, and thrust her long, hot slick dragon tongue up his butthole. She couldn't help herself, she was so fucking horny. She had to lick his ass, it was so fucking hot. Spreading his cheeks wide, she buried her dragoness snout in his buttocks and ate his ass with gusto, wriggling her head from side to side, purring very gently while she deep tongued his winking tight boy hole.

Darius groaned with sexual delight. He felt his butt fill with warm hot dragoness muscle, sliding to and fro with force, tugging on his sphincter. A huge, sexy, massive-breasted dragoness--his mate--was so horny that she was crouched over his bottom, eating him out. Precum was beading on his cock. He was going to jizz without even touching himself. He needed to cum. He was desperate to cum, and as his asshole clenched on her tongue, he knew he was almost--

With a wet schlurp, Briar pulled her tongue out of his butthole.

"No!" Darius cried. He'd almost cum!

His sphincter gaped at her, and she lifted her head from his ass, drawing a line of saliva from his asshole to her lips. She was quaking, clearly on edge but unwilling to cum herself, and twice as willing to see him denied. She smiled cruelly and slapped a buttock. "Like being my butt boy?"

Darius's horny asshole was pulsing, throbbing. Cock, balls, prostate, ass--his entire rear felt the glorious agony of an orgasm denied. "Yes, my queen!"

"Then birth your tail if you want to cum, slut."

Darius groaned and strained to do just that, to push the beast out of his ass, to end this glorious agony and be reborn through his butthole in front of her--the beautiful dragoness that demanded his ass filled with tail, demanded a thundering anal orgasm. There was another crack of bone, and he could feel his nascent tail prod against the inside of his sphincter, tenting it with a sharp burst of arousal throughout his entire rear. Close, so close to anal rebirth!

Briar made a little squeal of excitement. She gently grasped the base of his cock shaft, holding his throbbing member in her hand. She was watching his asshole closely for this moment. It turned her on so deeply to know that her mate would be sharing the deeply anal experience of growing a tail, and she wanted to see every grotesque detail with her own eyes. She had to see the dragon cumming out of his butthole.

With his cock in her hand, the anal pressure rose out of control. His legs were beginning to shake, but Briar had one strong hand on his left hip to steady him. She slowly began to stroke his dick, pulling it back towards her--and it wouldn't take but a handful of strokes to finish this. He was beginning to feel monstrous. The growing tail made it impossible to deny that he was transforming into a beast, and her strokes were making him grow faster.

There was one final crack of bone and one more thrust. His bared asshole tented deeply over the tip of his tail, a peak of anal pressure, and he cried out, "Briar!"

Briar started beating her mate off rapidly from behind, milking his rock hard cock, running her hand over the enraged cockhead while staring at his naked ass. "Cum from your butt!" she shouted manically, "Hatch!"

He was going to hatch, he was going to burst, he was going to unleash a monster through his horny hole! His testicles were lightly slapping on her hand. His thick cock was a fraction from jizzing all over the stone. She was jerking him off and he could feel her hot breath on his bare asshole, his tenting asshole, she was watching--"I'm hatching!"

His butt and his cock cummed at once, a single soul shattering explosion of orgasm. His sphincter blossomed, and the tip of his black scaled tail thrust out of his cumming butthole just inches from Briar's snout, the girth sliming out of his ass and between his buttocks. His testicles tightened; in sync with his cumming asshole, he started jizzing with enough force to make an audible splatter on the first hit. The entire shaft was a rod of cumming energy, pulsing in Briar's slick hand--the cockhead was a flare of orgasm as her fingers passed over it, and jizz splattered across her scales and palm, and he just kept jizzing over and over from his eight inch cock, her stroke vigorous and unending, and all the while, he strained to force the dragon out of his bent ass, his tail buttfucking him and being buttfucked at once, a monster's tail squirming out from his shuddering, cumming ass and thrusting high like a flag over his jizzing cock and balls.

She let go of his cock and started licking the cum off her hand. Three quick, messy laps, no time to savor it. She swallowed, but the oral fixation was burning in her pussy. She grabbed his hips, bent in low, and licked him with her broad dragon tongue, starting with a wet drag across his ballsack, up his ass, straight to his asshole, and up the underside of his growing tail.

He spurted another pulse of cum while her tongue slathered his tender tail. It was nearly as sensitive as his cock, and it was slick and stiff as he pushed it out of his ass. "Gods," he said as she lifted her head, "you make that feel amazing."

She squeezed his buttocks tight around his tail, rubbing his buttocks on its hot slimy girth. He groaned with erotic tension, and she laughed. "I'll make you cum again before I'm done fucking your cute boy butt." She pushed to her feet, stretching her legs for a moment. "Stay there," she commanded.

"Yes, my queen," he said. He shuddered as a couple more inches of black dragon tail jutted from his asshole in crackling, slimy jerks.

Briar snickered. "Would my knight be on his knees, begging for a woman to fuck his ass?"

Darius butt cummed again, feeling another inch force its way out his asshole, relieving a tiny bit of the massive anal pressure that was building up in his rear. "No," he said, face dripping with sweat. He felt like an entire dragon was being born from his butthole, and the most shameful part? It felt so damn good. He wanted more. He wanted everything to burst apart, exploding with dragonself. He relished shoving his inner beast out of his asshole, one dark inch at a time.

"My mate would want it," Briar said, "he's a little butt tramp. He's my little butt tramp." She reached down and lightly took the tip of his tail, teasing it and pulling it upwards, making him feel the motion in his sensitive, overstretched sphincter. "Ooh, he likes it when I touch his tail. He's tearing you apart from the inside, isn't he? The real you."

He groaned with anal pleasure, and Briar took that as agreement.

"What's his name?" she asked. "Not the knight's name. My sexy little mate's name."

"I don't know," he said.

She hissed. "I didn't ask you." She gently tugged on his growing tail, stimulating another fat black inch to erupt from his rear, and he cried out again in pleasure. "I asked my mate," she said, "If he doesn't know his name, then I'll name him."

"He..." The man becoming a dragon tried to look inside himself, to pierce the false duality and see who he was becoming as he shed his skin. There was a creature there, but it was nameless--he'd only seen his inner self as the dragon. "He doesn't know."

She released his tail. "You're shedding Darius," she said, momentarily dropping the stern tone. "If I name you, will you become that name?"

A crack of bone, another groan. "I don't want to be a knight. I want to be your mate. I... hnngh. I want to be your dragon!"

She smiled and gently rustled her wings. "Blackroot then," she said. "Not Sir Blackroot. The beast Blackroot. A dragon of the marsh."

Upon hearing his name, Blackroot felt a pressure swelling on his crown, and with slow, satisfying rips of skin, he began growing soot-colored horns over his head, broad and curling, ram-like. He stretched his neck, and his maw cracked and jutted another half inch, tightening the skin over his face a little more, flattening his nose further.

He was after all a dragon tearing out of human skin.

Blackroot's human cock was beginning to flag beneath him. His butt still ached with joy, but the sharp anal arousal was relaxed for a moment. His butt felt comfortably full of tail. There was a least a foot standing out of him now, almost as thick as his arm at the base, and his stretched, aching sphincter was gently winking around his sensitive girth. He relished the feeling of it sliding between his buttocks, spreading his cheeks.

Briar stood directly behind him. She cupped her pussy mound, rubbing it gently. Her clitoral erection could hammer nails, and the clitoral bulbs swelling beneath her labia could crush a steel pole between them. A human cock could get hurt prodding around in her pussy--she was that tight and horny. She grunted impatiently. After swallowing Blackroot's cum and licking his ass, she couldn't wait any longer. She craved penetration. She craved her ex-husband's butt as it filled up with her mate's tail.

It was time to solve all her problems at once by humping the hell out of him.

"Ready yourself, Blackroot" She hunched slightly over his butt, casting a shadow across his rear and his heavy testicles. "I'm going to fuck your boy ass."

Hearing a woman say that brought some stiffness back to Blackroot's half-erection. "Buttfuck me," he said to her. He didn't even know exactly what she was going to do, but it didn't matter. She was going to do it to him, and he was going to take it.

Briar pushed on his back again, bending Blackroot over as far as he could go. Then once his ass was bared to her, when he felt most vulnerable and his asshole ached with anticipation, she squatted over his rear and grabbed his tail. The stiff, slick appendage reacted to her touch with relish, wriggling. Blackroot felt its girth tugging on his sphincter.

Briar inserted the tip of Blackroot's stiff tail into her vagina. He cried out, and she rolled her hips down, bringing her crotch down towards his butt, sheathing inch after inch of thick black dragon tail into tight, searing hot, drenching dragoness cunt.

Every bit of him was sensitive, plunging into her squeezing lips, spreading her open, sinking deeper and deeper into her soft, tight, sopping wet crotch. His erection grew stiffer still.

Briar gently bottomed out, touching her groin to his buttocks, stopping with a few inches of tail curving between them--one end still emerging from his ass, the other vanishing deep into her pussy. She grabbed his hips, no longer needing her hands to guide him in.

Blackroot was shuddering on hands and knees, chest touching to stone. Briar felt so hot and huge, hunched over his behind. She was so dominant, feral, and female. He felt so weak, so small, and so desperately male with his cock stiff beneath him. He loved her; he felt safe to be so vulnerable, to actually enjoy something so forbidden and strange.

When his entire tail was aflame with arousal, he was happy to feel her pussy at his rear. Before she could even begin, he pushed back with his arms and thrust his bottom into her crotch. She was immobile, massive, warm and wet when pressed against his aching butt.

His tail sank a touch deeper into her dragon cunt. His penis was fully erect, eight inches of horny steel, standing untouched beneath their anal intercourse.

Then she dropped onto her hands and knees, now stretching over him, all eight feet of her. Her gigantic breasts pooled on his shoulders and slopped over his neck. Her nipples were cool and sticky with milk, but the bulk of her massive chest was hot and soft. Her weight hung over his back, powerful, furiously aroused. He could feel his tail, tightly held in her, still emerging from pink asshole and curling around to slide deep into her fat pussy.

Briar had planned to be gentle, guiding his hips at first, but when she felt that eager thrust of his ass into her horny crotch, she'd been unable to do anything but this, the most feral, the most animal, the most beastly of positions. She raised her giant girly ass, pulling back a couple of inches on his tail--and then slammed her hips down, driving her crotch into his boy ass, burying him as deep as his tail could go. Briefly, she could feel his tail pack a fraction of an inch back up his asshole, bending from force--

Then Blackroot cried out, as the first pump of anal sex caused his asshole to explode with pleasure, and four inches of tail ripped out of his horny butthole and jammed up Briar's incredibly deep, accepting vagina. She raised her hips, heavy on him, and slammed home on his ass again, forcing a fraction of his tail to jam up his butt before he responded with another jutting inch, thick tail sliming between his buttocks and up into her pussy.

The third slam didn't make him grow, but it made his overstretched butthole ache with the force of her pumping on his tail and ass. His cock was screaming for attention, but none came. Only his horny asshole would cum. Then the fourth hump came, the fifth...

Briar lost count about then, because she started felt comfortable with the motion now, and confident that she wouldn't have him slide out, she started buttfucking him hard.

Thrust, thrust, thrust. Slap, slap, slap. He was helpless beneath her massive body, clearly desperate for her sex. He moaned with pleasure with every stroke of pussy down his stiff tail, every slam of dripping crotch into his butt, every thrust that pushed fat tail up his asshole. His horny little cries were so fucking hot, it made her pussy more and more aroused. She envisioned his huge genitals shaking between his legs, swaying heavily to every pump, and it made her so horny she could hardly bear it.

With every pump on his butt, anal pressure was packed up Blackroot's asshole. Every few strokes, when that pressure was too much to bear, he felt a spike of anal arousal, and he forced more tail out of his butt in a single slimy jerk.

Briar's aching pussy was getting more and more full, but she humped his ass faster, still hungry for deeper penetration, still aching to feet his little butt slamming against her crotch. She loved fucking ass. She loved the little shakes and cries of her mate beneath her. She could sometimes feel his balls sloshing back and forth in his little sack as she thrust into his rear. With more violent thrusts, she could hear his erect penis slapping against his belly. He was male. She was female. Yet she buttfucked him! It was an anal queen's dream come true.

By the time his tail had filled out more than a foot and a half of lubed, hot pussy, Blackroot had released two full feet of tail, and it'd spread his butt as wide as two fists pressed together. His skin was almost painfully hot now. He moaned and pushed another inch of tail out of his asshole and straight into Briar's pussy. Still, she humped him. Still, he felt pleasure in his tail and ass. His cock was stiff as steel beneath him.

"Hnngh! You feel so good," Briar said, still humping, feeling her own vagina reaching its physical limit. "You're my little butt slut, aren't you?"

Blackroot shouted, his butt aching with anal sex: "I am!"

"What are you?" she shouted, humping harder.

"I'm your... hnngh." His butt and cock could barely handle the erotic pressure of her higher pace, but he forced out the words. "I'm a butt slut!"

That drove Briar wild. "Oh, gods! You feel so good in my pussy, you fucking hot butt slut!" Her lactating boobs were shaking up and down Blackroot's back. Her erect nipples scraped on his skin, leaving hot milky smears. Sometimes, when her breasts flew forward off his shoulders, she slung off thin white spatters. She tried to angle her hump to keep her tits rubbing against him. It made her feel so incredibly aroused, as if each massive breast was filling with sexual energy.

Dragon vagina continued to slop wetly up and down his throbbing tail, almost orgasmic with sexual excitement. Her massive tits sloshed all over his smaller body. He felt nearly buried in her beautiful, dominant femininity, and it was sublime to feel in shaking limbs and stretched asshole that she wasn't angry with him, that she turned her might not towards violence but towards pleasure and love. Knowing without a doubt that he'd lost a wife, only to gain something more beautiful and more erotic--to gain a woman bold and sexual enough to fuck her ex-husband up the ass--it made his dick so insanely hard.

His face cracked and jutted again, muzzle distorting his skin, and his lips were pulled slightly open, baring his fangs. His muscles and limbs were swelling tighter, stronger. Small tears of flesh began to trace themselves up the remainder of his human arms and legs. She was fucking the dragon into him. He could feel the monster within growing with the energy of anal sex.

He felt as if the dragon within was becoming more aroused than the man could ever be, as if the beast's erection was blossoming inside his pulsing genitals. With every pump of his horny asshole--every rub along his buttfucking tail--his true self, Blackroot, grew more and more erect.

Hump, hump, hump. Briar was groaning, trying to force the tail in deeper but finding that she'd filled her aching pussy to the fullest. Her stronger thrusts were pushing Blackroot's tail further up his white-hot overstretched butthole. The wet slimy sounds of her genitals and his asshole were the dominant beat, overlaid on their heavy breathing.

"My cock," Blackroot said, "it's getting so hard."

Briar moaned with joy. "Grow your cock," she said, "grow it slut."

Blackroot said what he thought would turn Briar on the most. "The dragoness fucking my ass is making my cock grow."

And in response, Briar roared and went into an assfucking frenzy, slamming her pussy up and down his tail, making his asshole scream with anal pleasure, tail shoving in and out of his boy hole. She needed to hear him cum from his bursting dragon cock. She ached to hear him to scream in ecstasy! Cum for me baby, she thought, both ass and cock!

Blackroot could feel erotic energy flowing into his testicles. They swelled until they ached, the stretched ballsack tight and round with inner pressure. He could feel it pulsing down through his human penis. From the base, he became harder and harder, swelling thicker and thicker, until the skin on his dick seemed to be wrapped thinly over nine inches of stiff, beastly thick pole. He was going to cum and he was going to come apart.

He wished he could just reach down and rip his testicles open. He wished he could peel back his human cock and balls and let the massive, horny dragon genitals burst out of his crotch, jizzing. Instead, he let her fuck him until his butthole was loose and screaming anal sex.

Briar's tits and pussy were going to cum, she could tell. She could only handle a few more seconds. All that stiff tail, her full pussy, her aching milking breasts. Gods, gods, gods!

The tip of Blackroot's exposed glans began to swell, as if pushed on from within. Slowly, awfully, the slit for his urethra began to dilate. From the flesh within, clear fluid began to bead, precum. His cock and balls looked painfully tight. Balls, cock, all of it seemed full beyond measure, barely wrapped around the monster's beastly dick.

Briar wanted him to cum first, but she wasn't going to make it. It was too much, too hard for her to handle it any longer. Her clitoral bulbs clenched. Her clit retracted under the hood, orgasmic. Her nipples swelled suddenly. And all at once, she roared and cummed while fucking a man's asshole. Milk gushed out of her cumming nipples, spraying everywhere, drenching his shoulders and splashing on his horns and hair. Her clitoris pulsed, orgasm after orgasm, and her urethra gushed in tandem, cumming another generous flood of sticky white girly jizz all over a man's tail, butthole and asscrack. Still, she pumped, stretching out the orgasm into pulse after pulse, getting everything she could out of anal sex with a man.

Blackroot heard her roaring with coitus, felt her fluids drenching him in a horny flood, and felt her female cum dribble down his ass and taint, running down his balls--

A dragoness had ejaculated all over his ass, and now he cummed too.

First, his asshole cummed, and a full foot of black dragon tail slurped out of his stretched butthole in one long, wet, orgasmic thrust, filling him up tight again, making his hips shudder with anal orgasm until his buttocks were spread as broad as a melon and his butt was full once more. A length of tail hung between his ass and her crotch, unable to slide any further into Briar, still strong and writhing with tailgasm.

Simultaneously, his face burst, a pleasant shudder of relief as his human mouth stretched open wider and wider over a broad jutting black snout, and in a slow, grotesque sequence of cracks and shifts, Blackroot's clenched dragon maw slid out of his open human mouth, collapsing his chin and nose away into a mess of folded and tearing skin, pulling the cheeks so tight and thin that they began to tear open, unveiling a half inch of his fangs on either side of his growing jaw.

And last and certainly not least, as his butthole filled with tail, as his face slid back over the inner dragon, Blackroot's real cock was born. His glans split open, and a massive black cockhead thrust out of shredding human dick, bulging, swelling, his entire penis engorged and grotesquely thick. His butt cummed again to the pump of his roaring, humping woman. Inch after inch swiftly slimed out of the stretching foreskin, as if his cock was literally being pumped up by her buttfuck. Its mass and length grew as it slapped against his belly, his body still rocked by anal sex with his cumming dragoness mate. Ten inches now, swiftly scything out of his old penis. His tight little nutsack ripped apart, spilling a heavy, wet, massive pair of testicles into the open air, swinging low beneath Briar's stroking hips and his buttfucking tail.

His cock reached a full foot before his butt cummed again, and his dragon cock thrust out of his human foreskin to fourteen inches. No more room--too big, too hard! He began to roar himself, and in a massive, meaty tear, his thin human foreskin split open along the bottom, baring inch after inch of swelling megathick black dick, reaching his final animal size in a single explosive burst. His broad, massive dragon erection bobbed below his stomach, cockhead at his sternum.

Yes, yes! Briar was right! Buttsex and transformation felt so good!

Fully revealed, his fourteen inch monster cock cummed. A pint of hot dragon semen started jizzing in thick ropes from his huge penis, spraying between his spread arms, landing in long lines on the stones in front of him and beneath him. The air stank of cum.

Briar pushed up off her hands and rose to her feet, keeping his tail clenched in her pussy. She grabbed his hips, swung her tail in low between her thighs, and circled her tail around the base of his, just outside his asshole. Then slowly, intimately, she wrapped his tail up tight in hers.

"That felt good," she said, "but I'm not going to stop fucking your ass. I'm going to fuck you to shreds, human, and all that'll remain is the dragon I fucked into being."

Barely giving them time to relax, she used her new position to thrust against him, shoving him so hard that he fell forward, bringing his chest low to the stone, to smash into the blend of milk, cum and female squirts that'd pooled beneath him. He was strong enough to take it, but he still cried out. The force of her tail and hips made his melon-thick tail bend beneath his skin, yanking so hard on his asshole that he thought his sphincter and rump were going to rip open on the spot.

Then she pulled back, yanking on his tail, and to his immense relief, he felt the tension flow out of his asshole, as if the dragon was being teased out of his full human butt. A crack of bone accompanied an inch of tail. Another, smaller anal orgasm rippled through his rear.

Briar coaxed five more inches of tail out of him, a mirror of her own final moments. She thrust slowly but forcefully, until the skin above Blackroot's ass was stretched to translucency. Then she pulled back, feeling his tail shudder inside her warm wet cunt, feeling him writhe in the tightness of their knotted tails. She felt intense arousal when he cried out in erotic joy, his sphincter tugged back by the emergence of another massive inch of dragonself.

Two more inches grew. One more inch of tail grew. On the last pull, Briar could feel the resistance of his skin. There was no more flexibility, even while pulling the tail out of his stuffed asshole. She hesitated, petting his hips, whispering, "My love."

Blackroot's breath was hitching. He knew he was about to break. His maw was open. His human cheeks had shredded almost an inch further back. And his overstretched butthole? He felt amazing. He didn't feel pain. He felt an intense anal lust, an urge to push his inner beast out of his butthole and be reborn. His cock was still hard beneath him. His testicles were still heavy with cum. There was one more step to go, and he wanted to feel her annihilate his asshole with her thrust. It was only right that the remainders of Darius be destroyed by her sexual might.

It was only the most wonderful thing that'd happened on what had seemed like a dreadful day. Goodbye Darius, he thought. I am Blackroot forevermore.

"After you've hatched," she said, "try to stay hard. I want you to fuck my pussy."

Briar drove her crotch into his ass, packing his eager butt full of his dragonself. He could feel the mass of his tail bend up against the top of his sphincter, reaching the limit, surpassing it, beginning to split--and then release. The sound of ripping skin was almost as loud as the shout of his anal orgasm. His rump burst open wetly, snapping his asshole apart, and all the tender skin of his rear tore apart as he bent over as far as he could manage, taint sundering down to his dragon testicles, true male dragon ass thrusting through the remains of his human asshole, skin peeling back off his buttocks until they were bare and he could feel his naked scaled ass touching to her wet scaly thighs. Yes, yes, she'd buttfucked him until he burst!

His massive dick jizzed again, spattering the stones between his knees with a sympathetic blast of semen, an uncontrollable release. He cummed with love and lust for Briar.

Briar didn't hesitate. She reached down and grabbed the skin at his hips and gripped, yanking it apart. Across his belly and back, the skin began to split open like a cocoon. She watched with satisfaction as his wings recognized the release of pressure and found form, making his shoulders appear to wriggle before they began to carry the rip forward, splitting open his back towards Blackroot's head. She unknotted their tails and pulled his heavy warm tail out of her pussy. She hadn't cum herself, but there'd be a chance to remedy that shortly.

She stepped back and watched as Blackroot finished hatching.

His limbs and body swelled with strength, and the skin on his arms and legs split apart and sloughed off his black scales. His wings finished unfolding, throwing aside the skin on his back like a split cloak, leaving only a hairy sheet of hide on his chest, wrapped about his throat, and hooked over his head. He pushed up onto his knees, giant erection bobbing in front of his stomach, and he reached between his pecs and hooked his claws into the flesh. With ease, he began peeling back the skin off his scaly chest.

Almost, Blackroot thought, just one last thing--

He threw his head back, and his true head burst into final shape, human ears exploding with into draconic fens, neck lengthening, muzzle cracking, broadening. Darius's empty mask of skin pulled instantly tight over the bulking beastly head, and slowly, brutally, the skin split along his brow, up over his scalp, and his human head naturally split in half, easily coming loose off the sharp edges of his horns, falling to either side empty and wet, while his dragon's head thrust forward into the autumn air.

He yanked the last of the skin on his chest, and with a wet slurp, the last of Darius came loose off Blackroot's body. The halves fell away, collapsing to either side. Now nude, now complete, he opened his eyes and looked about. His irises were as golden as Briar's. His sight was sharp and clear. He pushed to his feet and looked at his mate.

She was exhausted with the effort of sex, but she was still clearly aroused. Her nipples were swollen and milky. Her pussy, though it'd been packed full for quite a while now, was again bulging and tight. Lube dripped down her inner thighs.

"You're beautiful," he said, surprising himself with the deepness of his voice. He took two steps to her and looked up. He was maybe six feet tall. She was more than eight. It was true, women were the larger sex among dragonkind. Then he reached out and hugged her, and she smashed her breasts into him again, squeezing tight. He laid her head against her collarbone and felt hers come down across his horns, resting tight, sheltering him.

"I love you," she said quietly. "Thank you."

He didn't have to say anything, and for a full minute, they were silent, but eventually he found something he wanted to tell her. "I thought I was going to lose you."

She nodded. It'd been a close, strange thing. Five years ago, she never would've believed that the man she was saving would someday be transformed into her mate. But he'd been sweet enough and wise enough to deserve the long life they'd now share together. The Blackroot lineage was finished. The dragon Blackroot would be all that remained of that cursed name.

She felt his penis batting gently against her legs. It was her turn now, and she needed one last, little relaxing fuck before they left this place. She let go of him, turned about, and gladly sunk to her hands and knees. Her tail was raised high. Her ass was jutting towards her mate, and her fat, horny pussy mound was presented to him. Her clitoral bulbs were full and her clit hard.

"Fuck me," Briar said.

Blackroot grabbed his massive cock at the base, leveled the head against her fat labia, and gently pushed within her folds to find her wet, soft vagina. She was eager, deep and accepting. He penetrated slowly, forcing his girth into her girly tightness, slowly sinking a full foot of his fourteen inch hammer into her sexy cunt, spreading her fat black pussy lips and stimulating her clitoral bulbs, pushing them apart and making her whole vulva feel full with dick.

He touched his thighs to her fat buttocks and grabbed her raised tail with both hands. She purred, enjoying his grip on her thick limb. Then he pulled his hips back, dick sliding out four inches--and he thrust back in. In, out, in, out, faster and faster and with force, until he began to literally pound her massive rear, realizing that his dick was more than large enough to please her but the rest of him was too small to hurt her.

Thump, thump, thump. Briar's tits milked a bit with every thrust up her pussy. Her tongue lolled out of her maw. Her vagina ached with pleasure as it was pumped full of gigantic dragon dick, forcing all of her sensitive cunt to open and accept his bulk.

Faster still, and then even faster. He started stroking her tail, licking it with his broad tongue. She was crying out to the beat of his fuck.

Fourteen inches of throbbing dragoncock felt better than eight inches of human penis any day.

He enjoyed wielding it. She enjoyed taking it.

It was sex, not twisted and shameful and grotesque, but between two dragons in love.

In the end, Briar cummed first. Clitoral orgasm, long and drawn out in waves, her bulbs draining of their erection, her urethra squirting gently, her huge tits gushing the last of their milk as they began to dry up. Her vaginal walls tightened on the length of her mate's cock, and she gasped again and again as his final pumps gave her pussy deeply satisfying vaginal orgasms too, explosions of sex that spread warmly through her loins.

He felt her tighten, and he finally had his chance to cum inside the horny, angry, hypersexual, oversized dragoness that'd come ripping out of his dainty little wife just a little earlier that morning. She'd fucked his ass and denied him this for nearly an hour.

With a long shudder of relief, he started pumping his hot load deep into her well-fucked pussy, feeling ejaculate gush into her wetness and slop around his thrusting dick.

After a few more pumps, they separated, and his dick began to soften and compact. Her breasts were losing their swell, tightening up to be carried with a little more ease.

She got up, looking finally satisfied with the ludicrous amount of sex she could endure. She smiled. "Nick cock," she said.

"Thanks," he said, unsure if she was mocking him or complimenting him. His dick was getting surprisingly compact for what'd been fourteen inches hard.

She grabbed the small of his back and swept him easily into her, no longer burying him in breasts but just getting him against her chest. "Next time, we'll take turns fucking each other's asses. You use your cock, I'll use my tail. Okay?"

"Yes," he said simply, clearly pleased by her words.

"I'll break this place apart with a spell," she said, "and then we'll fly together to the south sea."

"What's there?" he asked.

"This time of year? Thunderstorms. Brilliant, loud, and safe for us." She patted his shoulder. "Wait till you're struck by lightning for the first time."

He didn't respond. He honestly didn't care what they did today, so long as they did them together. He just felt so happy. She was still with him.

She read his happy mood and turned her head down to meet his, muzzle to muzzle, snout to snout. Their eyes locked, searching and finding love. They'd already exchanged so many words. All that passed between them was simple affection.

Their mouths opened, their eyes closed, and very gently, they kissed.