Auhrul steps through the halls of the La Floresian Eternale, the Nexus of the Tournament of Pleasure. He drapes himself in his cloak, giving nods to the passersby, and a wink to some of the handsome men among the service staff. Many of them blush and look away, but he gets a few appreciative smirks here and there before he makes it to his destination.
He frees his metallic arm from under his cloak, knuckles just about to rap on the door, when the soft, high-pitched voice on the other side responds. “Come in.”
With a click, the door unlocks and swings open. Auhrul quietly enters the chamber.
There, books and pages are spread out as the kobold mage sits and scribbles some notes down, comparing some magical lore to other, more recent findings.
“You were expecting me, miss?”
Izon stares up from her work, waving her hand. The pages and notes pick up and rearrange, forming into a neat pile beside her. “I’ve heard of the upcoming match as well. I suspected from your previous battles that you’d be wanting to see me.” She holds out her hand, sliding a chair over towards him.
“And you’re right,” he says, sitting down, crossing one leg over the other, his cloak spreading wide, revealing his rippling scales beneath. “The fact of the matter is, Miss Izon, I have had quite enough fun in the Tournament of Pleasure, taking on the gamut of my interests. Unfortunately, you do not fall into that spectrum.”
“And so, you wish to settle the match outside of the official setting with a concession?”
“Yes, but not you--”
“I won’t allow you to concede,” Izon says.
Auhrul scratches under his chin. “You plan to face an opponent who has no interest in you? Whatever would you gain?”
Izon smirks at that. “Why, master Auhrul, I would gain knowledge, and that is all that matters.”
Auhrul nods, picking himself up. “Very well, then. I suppose I’ll have to figure out a way to prepare myself for an opponent such as you. Since you do not arouse me, I shall very easily be able to best you.”
Izon waves her hand, bringing her book to herself. Tucking it under her arm, she flashes him a toothy grin. “Oh, but Auhrul, your study of sexual combat is all about the male anatomy. You will have nothing to exploit.”
“I see. Well, it should be an interesting match, indeed, if a bit uneventful. I must prepare now.” He gives her a quick bow of his head, stands up, and walks out the door.
Izon glances down at the book. “Oh, don’t you worry about that. There’ll be plenty of excitement.”


Auhrul is the first to arrive at the designated arena. Shrugging off his cloak, he reveals his muscled and well-endowed form to the crowd. He sits, crossing his legs, and meditates upon his next opponent—that little kobold woman… someone he has no sexual attraction to. Indeed, he knew this time would come, but he never actually thought he’d face a female in sexual combat.
The crowd’s cheers increase, signaling the arrival of his opponent. Auhrul opens one eye, only to blink and stand up.
Stepping into the arena is not the little kobold he had spoken to, but a taller, draconic figure, draped in robes with that same feminine, yet oddly alluring, face, enhanced with more prominent and more numerous horns. All about Izon there emanates the scent of magic, but there was also something else.
“I see you’re prepared,” Izon says, her voice gently gruff, but with a playful lilt.“You’ve made preparations, yourself, it seems. I wonder if I am truly ready.”
“Probably not,” the transformed kobold jests, reaching a hand outward and then flicking the arm back, throwing the cloak to the side.
Auhrul’s flaccid dick jumps in excitement. The kobold took on a more draconic form but has the slight curves, the gentle tones, and the androgynous allure of a femboy. 
“I see…” Auhrul says, his eyes drinking in the foe before him. “So… you’ve made it harder on yourself.”
“Oh…” Izon coos, coupled with a giggle. “I’ve made something hard, alright.” He slides his hand down over his body, cupping the engorged cock between his legs. The magic thrums as he strokes a scaled hand along the shaft. “And it’s ready for you.”
Auhrul rolls his neck, his stance at the ready. “Your arrogance will be your downfall, wizard. I shall enjoy making you endure a thousand years of pleasure!”
“Try it, if you might,” Izon says, a sigh in his voice, a haze of delight in his eyes. Each stroke takes longer than the last as he jerks himself off, that growl growing in his words.
Auhrul beckons the femboy wizard closer with a curl of his metallic fingers. Izon responds by approaching him, their shafts touching even as he looks up to the lizardman.
Auhrul grunts, his body trembling. Already, Izon’s warm, throbbing dick is bigger than his own. Had it been that way a moment ago?
Narrowing his eyes, Izon purrs. “What’s the matter, Auhrul? Am I too manly for you?
Auhrul clamps his hands upon Izon’s shoulders, thumbs pressing into the points that would send any man shuddering to their knees.
Izon gasps, falling just as the lizardman had planned, but the magical aura explodes, knocking the lizard in the stomach, sending him stumbling back.
“Nice trick!” he grunts, looking back up to Izon, only to cough and stumble again.
It wasn’t the magic that struck him.
It was Izon’s large-and growing-cock!

Auhrul’s gaze fixates upon the enlarging member of the transformed Izon. The monk readies himself, lowering his center of gravity and raising his arms in an offensive stance. “Very well, Izon. If you wish to face me in real combat, then I will, uh….”
As he speaks, Auhrul’s neck tilts further and further upwards, following the growth of the magical femmy kobold boy before him. The lizard now looks up at the guy towering over his head, crackling with the magical energy of someone brimming with power.
Izon’s eyes flutter as the pupils disappear into a sea of glowing light. His hands run over his body, crackles of electric magic following his touch, and his cock, well, it doesn’t stop growing either.
Auhrul shakes off his trepidation and launches towards Izon, reaching out to strike at a pressure point that’s sure to knock the kobold down a peg or two.
Just as his fingers touch the kobold’s knee, the draconic opponent swings his hips, his cock slapping Auhrul right across the face!
Auhrul flies across the arena, tumbling and rolling in embarrassing defeat but scrambling up to a squatting position, shaking the mixed feeling of surprise and shame out of his head.
“Fuck yeah…” Izon groans, taking in a harsh breath. “I can feel the power. It’s everywhere! Especially here!” He grips his cock, pre oozing out of it in response to the touch. “Eroarcana is the true path to magical understanding and power.”
“You may have power, Auhrul says, “But you haven’t the discipline to wield it!”
Auhrul rushes forward again, leaping up high, fingers ready to strike at Izon’s temple.
Izon grabs Auhrul, engulfing his face with his hand. The larger dragon boy slams the lizard man down against the ground with a mighty “CRACK!”
Auhrul groans, but grabs at the femboy’s wrist, straining with his might to lift the massive arm against him.
“So… much… power!” Izon growls. “The might of a dragon! I’m about to burst!”
He lifts his hand free, groaning as the energy crackles through him.
Seeing his opportunity, Auhrul pushes his hands against the ground and lifts himself up, only to be slammed back down by a massive, warm, turgid thing that knocks him back to the ground.
Izon falls on top of him, on his hands and knees, eyes rolled back, tongue rolled out, groaning as his massive dong pins the monk to the floor of the arena. With no hesitation and no thought about what he was doing, the former kobold thrusts forward, letting his muscle rub against the firm and scaled body of his opponent.
Auhrul, trapped underneath a massive dong, wraps his arms around the mighty thing, pushing and heaving, trying to get up out of it. He’s stuck beneath Izon’s powerful pole. He tries to focus on escape, despite the oozing precum dripping down over his crown and down over his face. Despite his predicament, he cannot help but marvel at the sheer manliness of someone who was a little kobold woman just a few minutes ago.
Grunting, he tries to squeeze and roll over, but all he does is manage to jerk the thing off.
Blood pumps through Izon’s body, mixed with the swell of magic. It isn’t long before the thing covering Auhurl’s body tenses up in preparation for the inevitable.
Izon roars, his sounds of orgasm rocking the arena around them, cracking the floor and sending large spurts of cum shooting up into the air. When he pulls back, it’s a blast right against Auhrul’s face and then his chest, firing off in multiple spurts that spread out across the floor.
When Izon finally wakes up from the climax, he sits upon his knees, glancing down at the cum-stained figure beneath him, coughing up in defeat and embarrassment.
Auhrul has not felt a soreness like this in a long while. The monk just lays back, his chest slowly rising and falling in the glistening cum. His path to glory in the Tournament sent to an abrupt and humiliating end by such an unexpected result.
A moment later, and the weight upon him dissipates, Izon returns to her usual self, sitting at his knees.
“W… whoa…” Izon mutters, looking at her hands. “This power… it’s so great….”
Coughing, Auhrul pushes himself up, his arms shaking. He barely has the energy to wipe the jizz from his jowls. “You… you must… learn control… if you are to succeed.” He says, groaning and finally falling back, passed out.
Izon stands. With a wave of her hand, tatters and rags rejoin and cling to her body, reforming her outfit. “Control?” she giggles at the idea. “What madness is this? I am in perfect control. Just because I enjoy, my power doesn’t mean I do not understand how to use it. No…” she steps away from him, turning her nose up away from her opponent. “I need no more control, as I am the ultimate power here in the Tournament of Pleasure!” She raises her hands up to the crowd. “Hear it now, oh gods: I’ve learned the secrets of what you desire from us. I’ve studied from all the champions. And now, I shall succeed and defeat all of the remaining champions. No one shall stand in the way of Izon!
She snickers and disappears in a puff of smoke, leaving everyone to consider her words.


Izon finds herself falling to her knees back in her room, one hand moving down between her legs while another runs over her frills. She pants quickly, her eyes shaking and unfocused, her breath ragged. “F… fuck…” she gasps. “The eroarcana… the power… it’s… it’s incredible!”
“Oh, I bet it is.” The door to her room closes.
Izon whirls around, seeing the elf standing before her. “Ah, you?”
Elicia smirks. “You want to win this Tournament, little Izon? You want to have all the power in the world? I can show you what that power truly is, but you need to know the price.”
As the elf speaks, a tent forms underneath her dress. “Do you think you are ready?”