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Please support me on Subscribestar

The Adventures of Tik Tik is a fantasy erotica series starring a cute kobold wizard out to make new friends! The readers fund its development. Those who support get early access to stories and rough drafts, the ability to vote and make poll options for monthly bonus stories, and able to produce and direct the plot with other top-tier supporters! Not only that but the more that I'm supported, the more of these stories

Check out more of my work through my Linktree

Cover art by [at_iconname]heckabun[/at_iconname]

Posted using PostyBirb", "writing": "Seeing the nature of the current generation of young adults, I endeavored to see precisely how the lives of the breeders and the matrons have been going since my departure. My last time in the Dragon’s Heir tribe had left me with a slightly sour taste. However, dealing with that hurdle will have to come later, as I have much to write about my encounter with the matron.\nOur current matron took over the duties after my revolution. She is a younger kobold with blue scales and a rounder form, concealed by her station's robes, her face mainly by her hood. But I knew all about what was underneath.\n Her predecessor was too ingrained in the old ways to change how she acted. Thus, she entered retirement—a luxury many in the Dragon’s Heir never saw. Effectively, this put her back into the breeding chambers, where a new appreciation for the elders could be found. Though she is beyond egg-bearing age, she now finds herself surrounded by young and eager kobolds seeking out her experience and lavishing their thanks upon her age-dulled scales.\nAs the current Matron and I sat upon rocks, sipping root tea at our mushroom-cap table, we conversed and tittered over the old woman's skill.\n“Hard to believe she was once so hard on who could fuck who,” I mused.\n“She always enjoyed watching the copulations,” the Matron agreed, sipping her tea and sighing. “Perhaps she had always wished to jump past her so-called prime. But look now.”\nOne of the many newcomers—a newly adult kobold boy, stumbles away from the pile and collapses in front of the spring, slurping up water eagerly to replenish himself. The matron chastised him for not taking care of himself.\n“How is the tribe handling my absence?” I asked, turning the discussion to something more solemn. “I always have to worry about them.”\n“There’s no need to do so,” responds the Matron. “After all, we were a well-working machine long before you were even hatched.”\n“Which was before you were hatched, if I recall correctly,” I teased.\n“Oh, well, and I thank you and Queen Tikana for installing me in my position. After all, the transition has been rocky.”\n“How rocky?” I probed.\nShe tittered. “Don’t worry about it, Tik Tik,” she replied. “It’s nothing I cannot handle. You’ve trained me well in the short time you were here. I sense, though, that you are troubled by many things.”\nI admitted to her that I was curious about many things, but there was so much I could deal with later. She smiled and stood, offering me her hand. I took it, of course, and she led me through the breeding room, where so many copulations were happening between so many different kobolds of so many other stations. The smell, sights, and sounds could fill up many volumes, but I only have so many pages.\nOne particular group of note was a pair of kobolds just entering into the majority. They sat amongst each other and just talked, not performing any ritual of sexual delight upon one another. I stopped to consider these two, and the Matron smiled and whispered to me. “This is a safe space for the youngsters just getting into adulthood roles,” she notes. “Many are confused as their parents grew up in the old ways. Even if the long-adults of our tribe are acclimating to new standards, their ways of raising come from the ancient traditions.”\nI never considered the long-term effects of how my new teachings would fundamentally alter how our society worked. It was definitely a consideration only for my own personal advancement—the thoughts I had swirling within my younger mind kept me from seeing any other concern that might occur.\nIt is a fundamental flaw upon which a tenuous grasp of reality stands. I ruminated on it as I watched kobolds heal from generations of forced breeding.\n“It’s a difficult and long process to change the world's ways,” the Matron said, wrapping her arms around me. Despite her lesser years, her wisdom holds true. There is much more work to be done to grant the kobolds of the Dragon’s Heir true sexual freedom. Until then, know that so much happiness and healing is happening in such a short amount of time.”\nThat may be a good thought. But at that moment, I didn’t have the heart to tell her the deep concerns that were going on in my mind. Despite doing everything and providing so much for the Dragon’s Heir tribe, there is still one underlying fundamental fact that many here don’t seem to understand.\nI keep it a terrible secret and publish it only for my readers; perhaps they will see it only when they are ready to.\nI may have granted new life and new opportunities to so many kobolds and so many others, but the fact of the matter remains as thus: I only do this for myself. I am a selfish kobold who seeks self-gratification, collecting friends like the dragon that hoards its treasure.\nIf that is considered evil in the eyes of some, then so be it.", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "Seeing the nature of the current generation of young adults, I endeavored to see precisely how the lives of the breeders and the matrons have been going since my departure. My last time in the Dragon’s Heir tribe had left me with a slightly sour taste. However, dealing with that hurdle will have to come later, as I have much to write about my encounter with the matron.
Our current matron took over the duties after my revolution. She is a younger kobold with blue scales and a rounder form, concealed by her station's robes, her face mainly by her hood. But I knew all about what was underneath.
 Her predecessor was too ingrained in the old ways to change how she acted. Thus, she entered retirement—a luxury many in the Dragon’s Heir never saw. Effectively, this put her back into the breeding chambers, where a new appreciation for the elders could be found. Though she is beyond egg-bearing age, she now finds herself surrounded by young and eager kobolds seeking out her experience and lavishing their thanks upon her age-dulled scales.
As the current Matron and I sat upon rocks, sipping root tea at our mushroom-cap table, we conversed and tittered over the old woman's skill.
“Hard to believe she was once so hard on who could fuck who,” I mused.
“She always enjoyed watching the copulations,” the Matron agreed, sipping her tea and sighing. “Perhaps she had always wished to jump past her so-called prime. But look now.”
One of the many newcomers—a newly adult kobold boy, stumbles away from the pile and collapses in front of the spring, slurping up water eagerly to replenish himself. The matron chastised him for not taking care of himself.
“How is the tribe handling my absence?” I asked, turning the discussion to something more solemn. “I always have to worry about them.”
“There’s no need to do so,” responds the Matron. “After all, we were a well-working machine long before you were even hatched.”
“Which was before you were hatched, if I recall correctly,” I teased.
“Oh, well, and I thank you and Queen Tikana for installing me in my position. After all, the transition has been rocky.”
“How rocky?” I probed.
She tittered. “Don’t worry about it, Tik Tik,” she replied. “It’s nothing I cannot handle. You’ve trained me well in the short time you were here. I sense, though, that you are troubled by many things.”
I admitted to her that I was curious about many things, but there was so much I could deal with later. She smiled and stood, offering me her hand. I took it, of course, and she led me through the breeding room, where so many copulations were happening between so many different kobolds of so many other stations. The smell, sights, and sounds could fill up many volumes, but I only have so many pages.
One particular group of note was a pair of kobolds just entering into the majority. They sat amongst each other and just talked, not performing any ritual of sexual delight upon one another. I stopped to consider these two, and the Matron smiled and whispered to me. “This is a safe space for the youngsters just getting into adulthood roles,” she notes. “Many are confused as their parents grew up in the old ways. Even if the long-adults of our tribe are acclimating to new standards, their ways of raising come from the ancient traditions.”
I never considered the long-term effects of how my new teachings would fundamentally alter how our society worked. It was definitely a consideration only for my own personal advancement—the thoughts I had swirling within my younger mind kept me from seeing any other concern that might occur.
It is a fundamental flaw upon which a tenuous grasp of reality stands. I ruminated on it as I watched kobolds heal from generations of forced breeding.
“It’s a difficult and long process to change the world's ways,” the Matron said, wrapping her arms around me. Despite her lesser years, her wisdom holds true. There is much more work to be done to grant the kobolds of the Dragon’s Heir true sexual freedom. Until then, know that so much happiness and healing is happening in such a short amount of time.”
That may be a good thought. But at that moment, I didn’t have the heart to tell her the deep concerns that were going on in my mind. Despite doing everything and providing so much for the Dragon’s Heir tribe, there is still one underlying fundamental fact that many here don’t seem to understand.
I keep it a terrible secret and publish it only for my readers; perhaps they will see it only when they are ready to.
I may have granted new life and new opportunities to so many kobolds and so many others, but the fact of the matter remains as thus: I only do this for myself. I am a selfish kobold who seeks self-gratification, collecting friends like the dragon that hoards its treasure.
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