[center][b]The Dragon’s Boytoy Knight
Chapter 3
By: VeronicaFoxx
For: Engy[/b][/center]

It took three whole days and nights before Cera Seafoam was sated enough to continue on with his mission, three days of fucking and eating and sleeping and fucking some more.  Though he would not normally have used such a crude term to describe an act of passion, even with a whore, that was what it was.  There was no love between them, nor even an inkling of physical attraction, nor the thrill of domination over a fallen foe or conquest, nor even the passion of a momentary grip of lust.  This was the rutting of beasts in season, no more and no less, simply fulfilling a need in the way that was required of them by whatever strange biology had been forced upon them, just the same as they fulfilled the need to eat and drink and breathe.

The smell of Theodore didn't change, still alluring and arousing, keeping Cera's long, sleek shaft hard, but the need that it had evoked faded, or perhaps he merely became used enough to the scent that it no longer provoked him quite as much.  It was a relief, to say the least.  It had been somewhat similar to the lustful cycle that Master had forced upon him, though he never quite lost himself entirely; it was simply that allowing himself to relieve the desires and needs of his body was the easier option than attempting to fight against it.  He could sense that attempting to restrain himself during that rut would have led to far less desirable consequences, possibly making him truly into the monster that he saw himself as.  Needless to say, the farmer whose field they had commandeered was quite pleased with their leave taking as well.

For the first day, Cera rode.  He had no saddle fit for the draconic creature that his friend had become, but there there was a slight divot in the mount's scaled back just back of the shoulders, and he could cling to the trailing spines that served as something of a mane or crest.  The problem therein lay in the fact that his former rival's hard spine and scales left much to be desired in the way of comfort and padding.  While the Dragon's Knight could grip with his knees and keep his seat relatively well, the jolting, bouncing ride became swiftly and exceptionally unpleasant.  His much enlarged sack was jolted and jounced and bruised to the point that he was unable to provide any assistance to Theodore come evening, only able to fall from the mount's back and lie cradling his injured testicles while whimpering piteously.  He'd fallen asleep with the feral beast's nose nestled between his legs and gentle laps of its large tongue attempting to offer some comfort.

As they were travelling the trade road with its river running alongside, Cera took the wiser course on the second day and swam.  Unlike his journey north, the way back towards Master was with the flow, speeding him further than even his now-natural endowments could.  Theodore had also gained benefit of increased speed and stamina, able to keep pace with the Dragon's Knight so long as he maintained what was equivalent to a fast jog in the water.  The pace was akin to a horse at full gallop, but it tired neither of them unduly.  Swimming also made it unnecessary for Cera to halt for a meal, simply snapping up fish as he went along, and Theodore made no complaint that they did not pause until evening, though he [i]did[/i] make quick enough work of the three large pike he was given that the knight dove in for a second hunt to ensure that his mount was properly fed.  Submersion had the added benefit of allowing Cera to finally soften once more, the arousing scent blocked by the water, though their evening came with the expected occupation after Theodore had fed.

With the speed of their progress, it took only five days in total for them to travel to the less than welcoming town that lay west of Master's lair and the village nearest him.  This time, however, Cera was most determined not to be turned away.  They had need of certain accoutrements and could provide coin or barter in exchange for craft and trade: the former Sir Theodore's belongings had been gathered and brought in a bundle upon the transformed feral's back, providing golds and good that the Dragon's Knight had been sorely lacking during his previous trek.  So it was that on the morning of the sixth day he approached the town gates, walking at his mount's head, and found himself swiftly faced once again with the barring staves, spears, and swords of the town guard.

Recognizing him, and fearful of his new companion, they demanded that he be on his way, but he called to them instead, "I am in need of tack.  My mount has need of saddle and bridle, saddlebags and blanket, a pannier as well if available.  Payment will be provided, and we shall remain here outside the walls if necessary, but please call out your best leatherworker for an appraisal.  Do not deny that you have one, for a settling of this size would have adequate need for one to take residence.  If you refuse, I shall be forced to maintain vigil at your gates, and I fear that your farmfolk may take umbrage at the time lost in their fields."

[i]That[/i] set them on their heels.  Outside of large cities, it was unusual for the monstrous kin to seek trade, and it was more likely that one refusing to pass by would attack than settle for reasonable restrictions.  Their captain was summoned, and Cera had need to show evidence of his valuables, but the master leatherworker was eventually brought to the gates to examine Theodore and negotiate for what Cera desired.  It was again the sight of gold on top of silver and copper that did more convincing than any words that the Dragon's Knight could conjure, but eventually the man dared approach for measurements.  It was there that things very nearly went awry.

As the human neared within distance of an easy lunge, Theodore began to surge forwards.  Cera was glad of his improved reflexes and strength, for it allowed him to interject himself between the two and set his hands on the mount's nose with a firm, "Hold!"

Even so, he was skidded through the dirt for a few feet before the feral beast halted.  It growled at him, glancing at the craftsman who cowered beyond, and the Dragon's Knight saw a hint of the gripping need that had held them stationary for the three days prior to their journey.  The seafoam dragon shook his head at the bestial red and remonstrated again, "No!"

The beast stepped back a pace, giving its head an angry shake, and garbled out something that lay between a roar and a bark, "Whaaarrr!"

The draconic mount shook its head again, letting out the cry once more, then half turned and lifted its hind leg to display the "extra limb" that projected beneath.  Cera glanced between the now-pleading expression on the beast's face and the needful hardness, understanding dawning.  He found himself surprised that it was far less distasteful as it might once have been, almost something he looked forward to, though he quashed that last feeling.  It was a necessary duty, like currying a horse, not one to take pleasure in, merely a thing that must be done.  He heaved a sigh and turned back to the crafter.

"You may approach once I am... tending to my mount," he explained, "but be hasty about your work.  I shall promise on my honor," and here he cast a glower at Theodore, "that he shall not accost you whilst you work.  Take your measurements and return to the guard swiftly."

With that, the Dragon's Knight turned back to his mount, who now stood shuffling his hind legs and licking at his chops, obviously eager and understanding, which set the sea-scaled dragon to scowling.  The beast was [i]using[/i] him and far more intelligent than he had first believed.  It was the shape, no doubt, that had defined his perceptions, but it would appear that he would have to revise those first impressions.  Still, it [i]was[/i] keeping in character with his old friend to play such a prank.  The former knight had once found himself laying with a pair of effeminate males rather than the maiden twins he had been promised by Sir Theodore, and it was still a tale told in jest between them.

Still, the need was real enough, and 'twas a knight's duty to tend his mount.  He stalked towards the beast and crept beneath to kneel in the dirt, taking the hardened length in his grasp.  He had come to know it well in the time they had spent together since he had transformed his rival, knowledgeable of every ridge and vein, every method that might hasten pleasure, and he intended to use that knowledge to his own advantage.  He heard the shuffle of hesitant feet nearing as he began his work, wrapping his mouth around the head of the bestial shaft and stroking its length with his hands.  His tongue caressed against the underside of the pointed tip, tracing the vein that fed seed down its length, then lapped at the slit from which thick pre-seminal fluid leaked.  At the same time, he reached out to squeeze at the beast's knot, then milk down its length, coaxing out globs of the thick lubricant and drink them down.

The mount's contented growls and grumbles proved the effectiveness of his methods, and he again felt that discontenting invigoration, finding the praise of skills that he acquired unwanted to be distasteful yet unable to deny that it brought him a pleasure of its own.  The leatherworker flung a cord over his mount's back to measure the barrel, and he began to move his head back and forth, letting the arrowhead tip tease at the entrance to his throat.  He used his his long, agile tongue to caress the ridge just behind the head of the bestial shaft.  One hand he curled around behind the knot at its base while the other caressed the hefty orbs beneath, larger even than Master's, and he well knew just how much seed they contained.  He felt a hunger to taste it, to be filled with it, similar to the need that had driven him before but not quite the same, tinged with personal desire as much as base biological demand.

It was no worse a thing than any else he had done since his capture and his conversion...  It was far easier to accept the fate that had befallen him, accept that this had been thrust on him, accept that the pleasures and desires he felt were not naturally of himself, and to give in.  His rather more... energetic efforts earned him effusive rewards, a steady stream of the salty, musky fluid flowing down his gullet.  He lost track of the tradesman, lost himself in the enjoyment he received from providing his mount pleasure, though the feeling of large claws grasping at his hips were of some small concern.  He felt himself lifted from his knees and pushed forwards, towards his mount's rear, and the thick length of his former friend was fed down his throat until the knot passed his lips and stretched his cheeks, and he understood.  He was not just [i]being[/i] used, he was to [i]be[/i] used, and he used his hands to massage at the dangling orbs beneath.

His throat expanded, as it was wont to do, allowing him to breathe despite the male member that he could swear had buried itself to his stomach within him.  He felt content to hang in the large grasp that held him, to be pumped along the length, to feel the gushes that travelled along the maleness and burst into his belly, bloating him momentarily before his body could process it.  He was not surprised at all to feel his own shaft twitching and hard against his stomach, the twitching tip questing for something to sink itself into though none was needed, as he had found.  As he was drawn in faster and faster strokes along his mount's breeding staff, he could feel his own pleasure rising, growing slowly but surely, though he was denied the peak that seeked to rise within his loins.  At least, until the bulb at his mount's base swelled to fill his maw and its seed began to stream from tightened balls to fill him to brimming and beyond.  That allowed him to finally spend his own pent release upon the ground as well.

He was released to dangle from his filled muzzle, pulling the still pulsing orbs against his throat and chest to caress them and fill him with the scent of them as they filled him with the taste.  The heat and smell of them, the feel as they scrunched to eject more of their contents down his throat.  That in itself felt good, not just for the tactile sensations but for the cause as well, for knowing that he had provided the pleasure which brought them to fruition.  As well was the feeling of being so filled, the male flesh swelling his throat and causing his stomach to momentary bloat with each gush of seed.  He stroked along the stretched scales of his gullet, tracing the ridges that lined the underside of his mount's shaft, feeling a swell as it passed through, and swallowed to help speed its progress.  While the bulb at the base of Theodore's shaft keep him trapped when inserted at the other end, the ability of his jaws and throat to stretch let him pull free when taken orally, and he did so to allow the next splash to fall on his face and chest.  He couldn't help a soft moan as he rubbed it into his scales, then slipped from beneath the transformed feral beast to stand at its side.

The craftsman had retreated, and the guards and he looked on with disgust at the pair of them, no less so when Theodore turned his large head to give the Dragon's Knight a long lick, slurping up his own leavings from his rider.  Cera gave him a fond pat, having no inclination to waste his time and energy on shame.  This was who and what he was now, what he had become, what he had been made into, and there was no escaping that.  If he could not enjoy even the pleasure shared between himself and what had once been his closest friend, then he might as well sink himself into depression and insanity, for there was no other option that he could see.  He could stand to take some of the nonchalance with which his former rival seemed to have adjusted to the feral form for himself.  There was little likelihood that either would ever find a way to resume their previous lives, and so it would serve him best to desist in such thinking.

"Have your measurements been taken?" the Dragon's Knight inquired of the leatherworker.  "How long for what I seek and at what price?  Note that the seat will need rather more padding than the usual."  He hefted his exposed genitals by way of explanation.  "And... I think it would be wise to include attachment points for a... second rider.  Beneath him."

The master craftsman gulped and nodded, then checked the sheet of notes he had made when examining Theodore.  "I have a saddle that was meant for a clydesdale.  I should be able to adjust it to fit these measurements, m'lord.  The other thing... Well.  I think me I can have this done within three days, but I'll need to make adjustments...  'Twould be easiest done at my workshop, so as to not need hauling out the whole thing each time.  If you'd give parole, and I'm sure disarm yourself as well, mayhaps the Captain will allow you within?"

The last was said to the man in charge of the guards, who thought it over for several long minutes.  They were a small enough town that gold was not so prevalent as to be scoffed at, and Cera would perforce be required to pay for any damages that he or his mount might incur.  Of course, should either or both prove hostile, they could be seized and all of their belongings would become forfeit to the guard, providing a quite handsome windfall.  And should they keep their word, well, the Dragon's Knight would need to pay for accommodation and food and whatever amenities he chose to indulge in.  There was no need to refund any toll that they chose to charge the creatures to enter the town, for they were monsters after all.  Cera could read the thoughts as they passed through the captain's mind almost as clearly as if they were words upon a page.

"I will pledge upon my honor and on forfeit of my goods and personal freedom that we shall offer no harm to any within the walls," he called to the guard, pulling his weapons free and stepping forward to place them on the ground.  "I shall pay fair price for the boarding, and even offer gold in bond for any charges incurred that may be left unpaid or damages that might be accidentally incurred."

A handful of coin drawn from his money pouch sealed the bargain.  They were allowed in, surrounded by members of the guard of course, and escorted to the leatherworker's workshop.  The man had his assistants and apprentices hastily clear out a tack shed to house Theodore as the nearby inn's stablemaster absolutely [i]refused[/i] to allow such a beast within his walls.  Cera was allowed to pay a princeling's ransom for a room, which was on the ground floor beside the kitchen, hay and straw hastily cast across the plank flooring with scratchy blankets and discard pillows piled into the corner, as if he were an animal to make a nest.  No matter; it was an appeasement, a formality, the facade of civilized interaction.  He knew that most of his time would be spent with Theodore, keeping the beast calm and satisfied, though he knew that his own needs would also be satisfied as well.  Now that he fully accepted them, it was easy to admit.  Entirely aside from the low hum of enjoyment he received from obeying Master's wishes and pressing on with his mission, he found pleasure in his time with his mount.

The three days it took to fit and adjust the saddle were thus spent in a far more pleasant manner than Cera would have previously expected.  Aside from the fact that Theodore was most decidedly [i]not[/i] fond of the bridle.  It had to be remade twice after he clawed and chewed the first and second attempt to pieces.  He was not content until a design was made that allowed his jaws complete freedom.  Otherwise, things went quite well.  The saddle was modified to the required specifications, and its fitting and comfort were thoroughly tested on the second day with the pair of them racing about the circumference of the city while the guard and some of the townsfolk watched on.  It became apparent that they would need practice to perform more than the most basic of maneuvers; Theodore was not a trained war mount, after all, merely a transformed human, but he learned quickly to respond to reins and knees to fulfill the basic responsibilities his new form entailed.

The third day was given over to the... specialized modification that Cera had requested.  The Dragon's Knight had thought at first to use it for himself, but considered as well that it might be put to use as a punishment or for transport of a captive.  As such, it needed to allow for the possibility of self-release and guidance, so that Cera would not himself be held captive to the whims of his mount and could steer the beast, but must pay heed to concerns of maintaining an unwilling individual as hostage.  A set of cuffs were designed for this purpose, so that the seafoam dragon could unlatch himself when needed, but the mounting points on the saddle could also be used with rope or leather lashings to hold a person in place.

Their race around the exterior of the town left him quite exhausted and quite thoroughly pleased.  Cera lost himself in the ride quite quickly, slung as he was beneath the feral-formed dragon, arms and legs stretched up around the mount's barrel, with the beast's maleness plunged firmly into his rear passage.  At rest, it sat with perhaps an inch free along with the knot, but when Theodore set off to run, the rocking pace stroked the Dragon's Knight forward and back along the length, butting the knot up against him without having enough force to press it inwards.  The haze of blissful enjoyment caught him up so that he allowed his former rival to run as he willed, and was unsurprised to find himself being forced fully onto the bulbous gland while Theodore reared.  He was fully plugged and fully filled, and the transformed human set off to run once more.

Three times, Cera was forced to take the knot and feel it deflate to slip free before Theodore at last consented to return to the leathercrafter's shed for the night, and the next morning the Dragon's Knight was unsurprised to find the guard captain awaiting their waking so as to shoo them from the city.  The gold he had given in bond was kept for the "damages" done to the psyches of the poor, guileless townsfolk by his "perverted parade" about the walls.  He made no complaint, though he felt it fair to note the town for future expansion should Master have desire for greater territory.  He would be quite happy to allow his mount a few gallops 'round the walls with the guard captain strapped beneath.  He made no comment of that, though, and left without further incident, the new saddlebags and the basket that backed the saddle filled with enough dried meats and fish to sate the large beast for at least a week.

It took only four days to reach the village nearest Master's dwelling from there, a far swifter journey than previously and a much more pleasant one with Theodore's company.  His mount had apparently retained something at least close to human intelligence, or was developing it, and had begun attempting speech.  Though it was garbled, likely a side effect of his alterations that he was still learning to cope with, he was beginning to make himself understood.  As with anything, it would take practice, and Cera spent at least an hour after they had made camp and pleasured one another in simply speaking with his mount, helping the transformed creature to practice forming words.  By the time they reached the village, the beast could make simple requests and needs known, most often in regards to libido.

It was therefore of little surprise that Theodore made his desires plain as they passed through.  A woman stood in the stocks in the village square, what little of her clothing remained hanging in shredded rags, her face and bared rear end smudged and smeared with the leavings of the men who had used her.  Charcoal had been applied to her skin to scrawl "ADULTERER" across her lower back and "HARLOT" on her forehead.  As they neared, Theodore slowed and stopped, sniffing towards the prisoner and licking at his chops.

"Waaaaaaaant," he warbled out, looking back at his rider.

Cera considered it for a moment, then climbed down from the saddle, patting his mount on the shoulder.  "Wait here a moment, friend.  Let me speak with the magistrate or... whatever passes for one in a hamlet like this."

The beast rumbled out agreement, though he began to prowl around the stocks, hungrily looking over his intended victim.  The woman, for her part, kept an eye on him as well, as best she could, squirming and thrashing in the pillory as she attempted to watch him through the wood when he moved behind her.  The Dragon's Knight shook his head, partially in disgust at the treatment of the captive and partially in amusement at his mount's behavior.  He strode towards the largest home nearby, what he took to be the mayor's residence, which proved to be correct.  The man advised that the woman had been in the stocks for nearly a week after having attempted to seduce a man from a passing merchant caravan.  Being the wife of the village's own most prominent merchant, she'd been found out easily enough, and her husband had insisted on this as punishment.

"Gerald even went so far as to bring his horse to mount her on the third day," the mayor advised, pulling a face.  "Had to get the herb woman to lend a hand after that, stop the bleeding.  Had to let her out of the pillory for two days, and her husband insisted that it reset her time.  He's planning to publicly divorce her once her time's up, leave her a begging pauper with not a hand in the village would give her a crust of bread lest they anger him.  I'd've set her free myself, after the horse, but he [i]does[/i] hold the largest pursestrings in the village.  If 'twere up to me..."  The man shrugged.  "But it isn't.  If you think the dragon would give her better treatment, then she's yours to do with as you please.  I'd not see her turned a beggar, if I had my choice."

Cera nodded his understanding and approached the pair in the town center.  Theodore had settled before the woman, using one clawed forepaw to stroke at the hard maleness between his legs, growling softly as he stared at the imprisoned woman with obvious lust.  The woman had wet herself in fear, the urine puddled at her feet on the stone platform of the stocks, though she had left off her struggling.  She simply wept and stood trembling, no doubt expecting to be raped and possibly eaten by the beast before her.  Cera approached and interposed himself between her and his mount, blocking her view, and she glanced up at him.

"You... you were the knight, weren't you?" she asked, trembling.  "You were him what came to slay the dragon, but the dragon was never cruel or hurtful.  He protects us, keeps away the bandits.  And he changed you, made you as you are now.  I'd prefer that over this, over what's to become of me.  At least if... if I was like you, I wouldn't have to put up with the beatings no more...  I could just...  I don't know...  Whatever the dragon'd have me for would be better..."

Cera withdrew one of the medallions that Master had given him and dangled it from a fist.  "Do not be so sure that it would be better to be in service to Master...  but I will admit that Master has not been... overly cruel or..."  The seafoam dragon shook his head, swallowing down the residual anger and disgust he still felt.  "I was made to be a knight of a different kind, and I have... come to accept my place as best I can.  If you accept his service, I will...  I will do my best to ensure that you are given fair treatment.  I can make no guarantees, but I can promise that I will advise of your willingness and that you are deserving of care.  I know not your past, but if you desire this so greatly, then it cannot have been a happy one."

"I'll take it.  Whatever the dragon wants of me, I'll accept.  It can't be much worse, especially not when... when I've been so ill treated...  No man would have me again, but... well, your beast seems taken with me.  If he'll treat me gentle, and if you'll take me with you, then I agree to anything you'll ask of me."

Cera nodded his understanding and turned to face Theodore, wagging a warning finger at the feral creature.  "Be gentle with her, my friend, or you'll answer to me for it otherwise.  She is not deserving of punishment, at least not such as has been dealt, so you [i]will[/i] give care to her wellbeing, though I shall allow you liberties with her."

He turned back to lay the necklace with its dangling pendant about the woman's neck, and she gave a sigh of relief.  There was a shimmer of magical energy that passed over her, swift as the blink of an eye, and she blinked.  As she did, her eyes became slitted, changing hue from a deep brown to a glimmering gold.  Scales began to crawl across her from her neck backwards and fore, her hair turning crusted and white, like the dried seed that lay splattered across her skin.  The wood of the pillory creaked and whined as her neck and wrists thickened, muscle and bone growing and thickening.  She let out a muted roar, shaking herself, thrashing in her bondage, her face exploding outwards into a snout that filled with sharp fangs, fingers becoming grasping talons that could tear and rip.  Cera stepped back from her as she tore free of the stocks, the scaled cascade flowing down her hips to transform her legs as a tail erupted from above her rear to lash at the air.

Then at last she stood still, panting softly, the device that had held her destroyed, her body changed.  Theodore moved forward to sniff at her, nuzzling at her cheek with a soft croon, then down the length of her body to nudge his snout beneath her tail.  She was perhaps two-thirds the size of the feral mount, his deep scarlet scales clashing with hers, yet she dipped her head beneath the larger male to sniff and lap along the thick length that hung below him, her tail lifting up and to the side to give him access to her sex.  Cera could see that the creamy scales around the slit between her legs were a pink shading to red at the split in her hide.

It seemed that the transformation had also included the... needs that had been instilled in both Cera and his former rival.  The larger beast swung behind her, grasping at her hips as he climbed her back, pulling himself forward until he could nudge his dripping tip against her equally moist opening.  She crooned as he pressed inwards, her hind paws shifting to spread her legs, back arching as she pressed her chest to the ground, craning her neck up and back to nibble at Theodore's chin.  The mount began to thrust, driving himself into his new mate with bestial force and speed, which seemed to be quite fine with her.  She drove back against him, meeting his hips with her own.  The meaty smacks of their breeding filled the square, drawing a few glances from villagers, curtains twitching and fluttering as they pulled back out of view when Cera looked their way.

It took the pair several minutes to complete their copulation, the red-scaled beast letting out a loud roar before clamping his jaws against the thick, armored scales of the female's neck just behind her head.  She crooned out her own pleasure, her tail thrashing for a moment before curling around her mate's hind quarters, at least until he turned.  Theodore released the female's waist and walked himself around, lifting a hind leg to pass over her back, and stood scanning the area, growling.  Cera felt an instinctive understanding; it was a challenge to any who might attempt to claim his mate or threaten their breeding.  The female hung with her hind paws dangling above the ground, the knotted shaft trapped inside of her.  She clawed at the ground and let out a soft roar of her own, her hind toes curling against her soles, obviously finding quite a bit of enjoyment from her predicament.

And the Dragon's Knight noticed another odd facet of her transformation.  Her stomach was bloated, swollen as his own always was after a session of mating with the scarlet mount, yet it did not deflate, the seed did not process to energize her body as it did his own.  Instead, he could see slight lumps pressing through her flesh.  He cautiously approached, a wary eye on the feral male, to touch the swollen section, and felt a slight hardness formed within her, several of them.  Eggs, he realized, she was pregnant, filled with young from her breeding.  It would be useful, he supposed, if Master intended to expand his growing collection of... slaves?  Conscripts?  Cera was not comfortable using either term, particularly to describe himself, but there was little else that could apply.

He knew that Theodore would remain embedded in his new mate for some time, and the cave was quite near, near enough that they could reach it before she was let free.  She didn't seem disinclined to remain as she was, and when Theodore swung around to face the seafoam dragon, she let out another ebullient croon, another climax rippling through her.  Her mate simply rumbled out a pleased growl, his hips giving a few thrusts before stilling.

Cera patted his mount on the shoulder and climbed up into the saddle.  "Well, my friend, it seems that you may be a father, sire to an entirely new race of creatures.  I think that perhaps we should rename the pair of you, in honor of your new status.  Adamos, reminiscent of Adam, the father of man, and Evelyn, the mother of woman.  We shall see if Master approves.  Now, onward, my friend.  Let us return to Master and present his newest... recruits, yourself and your mate, and possibly your offspring as well."