Forced Resolution
Featuring Faora Meridian
by Mog Moogle

	The dragon's eyes glowed as he literally transferred his arcane power onto the scroll-to-be. Sharp well-groomed claws on the end of his scaled paw moved over the top of the cotton-pressed parchment as rigid lines and elegant curves of the blue energy seared runes into the paper. His concentration was focused and and controlled. He was halfway through the transfer when he felt it.

	The little moogle's nose brushed against his backside and sniffed at the base of his tail. The wooden bench of the lectern with no back allowed the little creature access, and his lack of clothing from spending most of the night trying to wear the moogle out then get his project finished before he woke was quickly seeming like a mistake. Despite this, the dragon held his thoughts together.

	It was the most complex Apprentice spell he could have conceived. A personal project that was his final grade as an Apprentice. Master Leagus had already seen it in his mind, and knew it warranted his new status of Journeyman, but due to some frustrating distractions, the first transference of his power to the scroll was a failure.

	He felt Mog's tongue slide in the cleft between his cheeks, but he moved his backside farther forward on the bench to cut off the moogle's access. He could hear a barely audible whine behind him, but he tried to shut it out entirely and keep the spell at the forefront of his attention. He felt the moogle's paws slide around his scaled sides and start rubbing the insides of his thighs, but he was able to keep the tactile sensation distant like a memory.

	The magical energy licked the paper and carved itself into the pressed fibers. The very essence of the magical ability was forced into the inanimate object despite the moogle's desire tugging at his own. Every mental barrier he could muster felt like it was under siege by an unstoppable torrent flooding against it, and despite holding it at bay, some slipped over the top of his defenses and surged through him.

	Faora's dragon maleness slipped from his protective genital slit and he felt the moogle's small fingers wrap around it. It was still distant, still not quite physical like the sound of the moogle's needy voice, but present nonetheless. It was then he heard the raspy voice of the Archwizard echo in his subconscious.

	“If you can cast a spirit-link while in coitus, then you can transcribe while an enthusiastic Mechanic … 'experiments.'”

	It wasn't a memory of his conversation a few days prior. The words were focused and deliberate. It was the Archwizard himself speaking directly to the dragon. A stray thought wondered if the old man was getting some kind of perverse pleasure out of what he was doing to the two of them, but a sharp warning from the mouse in the tower high above them echoed in his mind once more. “Your attention is wavering, Journeyman. Focus!”

	Faora had no doubt at that point. Something felt different about the moogle's need for him this time. His plan to work while he slept would have probably been effective if not for the Archwizard interfering yet again. This, was his test.

	The new Journeyman wasn't about to fail. He brought all of his concentration to bear on the scroll just as the moogle started rubbing over the ridges of his cock. Faora kept the pleasure at the cusp of his perception. He knew it was there, but it was held away from him as he continued his work.

	Shuffling around his legs, nipping at the flanks of his scaled backside that was exposed off the bench along the way. Faora wove the character into the scroll that would condense the air so rapidly it could flash-freeze water. Easing in underneath the lectern, giving the dragon's knee a playful but affectionate nip before continuing onto his objective. Faora pressed his energy into a blue streak that seared the surface of the scroll, binding the power of levitation to the parchment. Taking his tip between his lips and suckling, letting the bead of pre that had formed separate from the opening and tease the moogle's taste buds.

	The final characters, one to force the hunk of ice into pieces and propel it through the air, and the last to recombine it around the target. Success! Faora's eyes ceased glowing as his head rolled back and he looked skyward, groaning as his mental barricades collapsed and the surges of pleasure he'd held for what seemed an eternity flooded into him all at once.

	The moogle took as much of his length into his mouth as he could, letting the tip and ridges slide down his throat as he swallowed, the muscles teasing his length. Faora reached down and gripped the moogle's cheek tufts and pulled his head off his length long enough to move the wooden tabs on the lectern with his telekinetic powers and roll the scroll without a physical touch.

	He wrapped the scroll in invisible red twines of magical energy and locked his seal on it, then it toppled off the steep slant of the lectern toward the floor. Before it could hit the wooden slats, a blue flame enveloped it and it disappeared, but it wasn't Faora's doing.

	“Nearly flawless,”  he heard in his mind, but it wasn't from the Archwizard. It was the magically augment voice of Master Leagus.

	“We will discuss the error,” he heard from Master Ocdor this time, “once you have finished your current task, Journeyman.”

	“Current task, indeed,” Faora said aloud, causing the moogle whining between his legs to look up at him curiously. Faora looked down at him and shook his head. “Continue.”

	Mog chuckled and then nuzzled the end of Faora's cock. “You're silly, Fae Fae.”

	“And you're insatiable,” Faora replied, then gasped as the moogle suckled his tip. “I have to meet the Archwizard soon. Let's get the rest of tHIS~ … by the elements, that is good,” Faora moaned as the moogle pushed his head forward and the tip of his member slid down his throat until the small hybrid's lips rested at the top of his third ridge.

	The moogle swallowed around him and tried to breath through the blocked airway, constricting muscles at two different points on his cock. It was the deepest he'd ever been in the moogle's throat, and Mog held him there until a soft gag caused him to pull his head back rapidly and his length withdraw from his throat in one swift motion.

	Mog gasped for air between his legs, all the while still stroking the base of his length with his paw. As with the previous day, the moogle started to climb up the dragon's front. The bobble that adorned his forehead brushing the scales of Faora's underbelly, but Faora lowered his paws to the moogle's shoulders and stopped him from climbing up.

	“Fae …” Mog moaned desperately. “I want it. I need it.”

	“I know,” Faora said before lifting from his wooden bench and stepping over to his bed that was butted against the moogle's own. He lowered one of his scaled paws and pat the mattress. The little moogle giggled as he crawled out from under the lectern and crawled up on the bed, presenting himself to the dragon.

	Faora knelt down and looked at the moogle's she-slit as it glistened with arousal. The moogle cooed as the dragon nuzzled his rear, but then yipped sharply as the dragon suddenly pushed his tongue not into the (un)conventional opening, but the puckerd pink one below his tail. He snaked it deep as the moogle's muscle ring clenched around the dragon's strong and flexible muscle.

	The moogle shuddered and moaned as he gripped the quilt on the bed, pushed his rear back against Faora's muzzle. Faora's paws slid up the moogle's thighs and over his cheeks, spreading them apart with his thumbs as nearly eight inches of his forked tongue moved around inside the moogle's body.

	He would pulled it back until the moogle's first muscle ring would tug against his forks then push back up inside, rolling it around against the silky walls. Faora then pulled his tongue out and slipped it down the moogle's crack and between his legs, rubbing the broad side against his textured pucker while his forks graced the outer lips of the moogle's vagina.

	“Fae,” Mog cried before a long and sultry moan, “gods, Fae … that feels so good.”

	The dragon murmured in agreement as he brushed the moogle's nethers over and over. Faora continued to work the little moogle until his hips were bucking back against his muzzle in a steady rhythm. His perceptions of the moogle's feelings confirmed that he was enjoying himself, but it came as no surprise that it was doing little to slake the small creature's lust.

	Faora pulled his muzzle away and rose to his feet behind Mog, giving the naughty critter's rear an open palm smack which caused him to yip then writhe below him. Faora extended his paw toward the shelf of alchemy reagents and drew one of the bottles to him gracefully through the air. He grasped it and lifted the cork out of the bottle with his magic, leaving it suspended in the air.

	It was a mostly inert reagent, a glycerol that was used for thickening reactants when it was needed. Faora moved his free paw as his eyes glowed dimly in a small gesture that pulled some of the moisture from the moogle's and suspended it in sphere that floated above his open palm.

	A small amount of the glycerol was pulled up from reagent phial and it wormed down to the floating sphere of sexual fluids then whisked together, thickening the damp moogle juices. Faora released the bottle from his hand and with another gesture, the cork seated firmly and it traveled back to the rack of academical ingredients on its storage shelf. 

	With his newly freed paw, he swiped a finger through half of the sphere of improvised lubricant. He lowered his figer tip with the half glob to the moogle's pucker and smeared it around while closing his other paw around the remaining half, then smearing it from the tip of his cock down his length and over his ridges.

	“What'cha doing, Fae Fae?” the moogle asked as he looked back at the dragon as he lubed him.

	“Making sure things go easy,” Faora replied.

	“I told you that you don't need to worry about hurting me,” Mog said and giggled. “I've been able to accommodate everything you've given me so far.

	“Mmm,” Faora murmured softly before pushing his finger inside the moogle's tailhole to slicken the tight muscle ring. “This time, I don't want to use any of my abilities to make certain of that. I want to feel you, and every bit of you, without the buffer of magical augmentations.”

	“So be it,” Faora heard in his mind, still a little perturbed about the seemingly voyeuristic Archwizard speaking to him.

	Faora sensed a portion of the Archwizard's enchantment fading from the moogle's body. He saw Mog's eyes go wide then the moogle moaned loudly. His body tensed for a moment, then the tailring around Faora's finger clenched tightly. “Are you okay?” Faora asked with concern as his ability to perceive the moogle's emotions dulled considerably.

	“Oh that feels … kind of tender,” Mog said then panted. “Like I've been taking a big dragon inside me for several days.”

	“Does it hurt?”

	“No, not really. It's more like I … just sort of know you've been busy.”

	Faora couldn't help but chuckle at the comment. The pair had indeed been busy since he was tricked into manipulating the moogle's body and emotional state. Then it dawned on him. Though he couldn't feel the spirit-linking effects of the Archwizard's spell any longer, he still felt a deep affection. He wasn't sure if that part of the spell was intact, or if it was an after-effect of it.

	The moogle clenched his tailring again and drew Faora's attention back to his finger inside the small creature. He moved it in a little deeper and smeared the remaining lube around his insides, taking care not to hurt the moogle with his claw. As he withdrew his finger, he flexed his knees and pressed his tip in place of his digit.

	Faora rocked his hips forward and the tapered tip slid into the moogle with relative ease, the flare of his glans quickly slipping past his tailring as the muscle locked down around the back of it. Mog gasped and arched his back, shifting around Faora's length which caused the dragon to groan. The mage ventured a little deeper into the mechanic, pushing forward until the first of his ridges butted against the moogle's muscle ring.

	“Oh gods, Fae Fae,” Mog groaned before suddenly bucking his hips back and forcing the dragon's first ridge inside of him, then letting out a long moan. “It feels more full than when you're in my front.”

	Faora responded by thrusting his hips and pushing the second of his three ridges inside the moogle. He looked up to the ceiling and closed his eyes as he enjoyed the tight, silky insides and constant clenching and releasing of the muscle Mog was masterfully exercising. It wasn't textured like his vaginal canal, but the tightness was comparable and the moogle knew how to work the dragon's maleness in a way that just kept spurring him deeper.

	Faora felt like he needed to go farther, it was something that ran deeper than want. It was as if the moogle's lust was fueling his own, making the burning desire for the small creature flare up with the skill of a master pyromancer. Almost before the dragon could even realize it happened, he felt the tailring of the moogle slip around the base of his final ridge.

	“Moogle~,” Faora hissed as his scaled thighs pushed up against the furred cheeks. “I've never felt anything like this.”

	Mog cooed softly and ground against the dragon. “It feels like you were made for my backside.”

	Faora looked back down at the moogle and nodded. He rubbed the pert, slightly chubby and soft cheeks in his palms before easing back. His ridges sliped from the tight ring one-by-one until his head was tugging against it then he eased back in. However, the eager and impetuous moogle would have none of the slow buildup. Mog bucked back against him on his return and forced Faora's length inside of him all at once.

	Faora grunted as his eyes opened wide at the feel of each ridge being tugged then pulled by the moogle before his rear clapped against his thighs. “Mog! Mmmrrr … I don't know how you can still have so much libido, even with the enchantments on you.”

	“Fae makes it easy, and I'm a moogle,” Mog replied and giggled. “Don't hold back on my account, Fae Fae. You know I can take it.”

	The mage wasn't entirely sure of the truth of the moogle's statement, since the enchantment that dulled the pain was now absent. Though, one thing was absolutely certain. The hole he was currently buried in to his hips demanded a response.

	Faora pulled back, again feeling the tight ring squeeze his length then bucked up against the moogle. His pace was still deliberately slow, but the moogle bucking against him and moaning made keeping that up difficult. It wasn't long before his calculated resolve melted into frenzied fucking.

	The little moogle under him panted and moaned, alternating between blasphemously praising the gods and the big dragon as Faora's hips slapped against his rear over and over. The impacting bodies echoed in the room along with the lewd squelches of the dragon's ridges popping out and plunging back in.

	Faora was loosing himself in the snug flesh that encompassed him. The entirety of his length would work into the moogle's body, causing Faora's thick shaft to curve in the moogle's insides. He glanced down and watched the impacts of his body reverberate like waves on the moogle's rump. The small creature's wings would slowly extend then draw back. The red ball on his head bounced up and down while his face contorted with pleasure.

	An idea crept into the dragon's head. He wondered just how far he could push the little moogle now that the enchantment restricting the moogle's tolerance for the dragon was lifted. Though, if his tailhole was any indication …

	Faora curled his tail up as he had done the previous night, but this time, the tip brushed against the soft lips of the moogle's clit. Mog gasped sharply as Faora pushed it in. Working in just a few inches before he started rubbing down over the cluster of nerves in the new female orifice while the ridges and thrusts teased his exiting prostate that had been left intact by the Archwizard's spell.

	The moogle's arms slid out and his face pressed into the mattress as one paw gripped the side of the dragon's bed tightly, scratching claw marks in the wooden frame. “Fae!” he squealed. “That's … that's even better than the other way around.” The little moogle started gasping and panting for emphasis.

	“I … have to agree,” Faora replied, then grunted for his emphasis. The dragon worked the lithe end of his tail in thrusts that alternated with his hips. He could feel both sets of the moogle's inner muscles squeezing against him. After just a few moments of the dual assault on the moogle holes, Mog started spasming and breathing erratically.

	Faora felt the slickness of the moogle's pussy increase around his tail as the vaginally and anally induced orgasm rocked him. Mog's quivering body and constricting muscles were the push that the dragon needed. Faora slammed into the moogle as hard as he could as his pulsing member shot thick ropes of his seed deep into the moogle's bowels.

	Faora held the moogle's backside tightly as he groaned, surprised at his volume despite the lack of any magical augmentation this time. His body shuddered and his muscles drew tight as rode the waves of his climax. The dragon's tail slipped from the moogle's crevasse and he collapsed to the beds, keeping his member firmly wedged in Mog's backside as he held himself above the moogle.

	“Fae~” Mog groaned as the dragon atop him panted. “That was incredible. For the first time in days, I feel like I can take a break.”

	“Good,” Faora said, then chuckled as as he heard the moogle huff. “I'm sure we'll do this again … later.” Mog squirmed underneath him and teased the receding length that was still inside the moogle. Faora closed his eyes and moaned as the movements made him twitch and rekindled his arousal. He sighed as he felt his shaft hardening again while the moogle squeezed at him with his tailring. “Absolutely insatiable.”

	“You love it,” Mog beamed and giggled.

	Faora rolled his eyes as he mustered his strength and lifted off the moogle. The small creature moaned as the ridges slipped from his tailring, then gasped as the head of Faora's member slid out. As the mage stood up behind Mog, he heard some soft whines from him. “Later,” Faora reiterated.

	“No, it's not that,” Mog said as he rolled over onto his back with a slight grimace on his face that looked like a cross between pain and arousal.

	“Are you alright?” Faora asked as he looked the moogle over, but the little moogle didn't offer a response. Faora sense a magical field in the room, then saw the moogle's body illuminated a faint green then it receded to his stomach and groin.

	The dragon cocked his head as he saw the puffy lips between the moogle's legs shrink and his labia swell. The hood of his clitoris rose up and formed a furry sheath. As the glow faded away from his stomach, the swollen labia formed into a furred sack and his growing sheath opened at the top as the pink tip of the moogle's penis rose from it.

	By the time the glow faded, Mog was fully male and fully aroused. All four inches of the small creatures erection showed and he panted as the expression left his face. Faora reached out with his perception to detect if any of the enchantment remained, but didn't sense any. Something was wrong, though. His own affections for his dorm-mate hadn't faded.

	The dragon sniffed the air as the masculine musk was covering over the traces of feminine scent. To his surprise, his own arousal peaked as it continued. He looked over the moogle's now restored body, and something made him want the moogle.

	“Hey little guy,” Mog said softly as he looked down at himself. “I missed you, but I had some fun while you were on vacation.” Mog looked up at the dragon and smiled.

	Faora's cheeks heated and he looked away before the breeze around him swirled and covered him in his blue robes. He walked over to the door of the room and stopped as he glanced down and saw the bulge in the blue fabric. He closed his eyes to try and calm himself, but he heard the moogle shift around on the bed behind him.

	“Where you going, Fae Fae?”

	“I told you I have to meet with the Archwizard,” Faora replied.

	“This late?”

	“He requested I see him about my Apprentice final.”

	“You mages study too much,” Mog said and giggled. “Come back to bed.”

	Faora sighed and shook his head. He glanced back at the moogle and gave him a little smile before opening the door and walking down the hall, doing his best to conceal the half-erection under his robe.

*

	Faora yawned as he stood in front of the Archwizard's desk, causing both Master Ocdor and Master Leagus to look up at him. When he finished, he looked at the two masters and tried to conceal his embarrassment.

	“I am a little surprised at your fatigue,” the mouse said. “The quality of this scroll ranks among the top Apprentice scrolls I've seen. Hard to believe you could produce it while exhausted.”

	“With all due respect, Master. You know full well why I am fatigued,” Faora replied and scowled.

	“Well, maybe now that your dorm-mate and also fatigue, perhaps you will be able to get some rest.”

	Faora looked down as he considered what the mouse had told him. He was worried that the enchantment wasn't fully removed since his feelings of affection for the moogle hadn't changed. After a moment, he looked back up at the two masters. “May I ask something about your spell, Master Ocdor?”

	“Journeyman, the enchantment was fully dispelled,” the old wizard replied. “All but the physical transformation was removed before your last tryst. And now, the body modification effects are removed as well.”

	“But-”

	“Well, Journeyman,” Master Ocdor interrupted, “maybe you should look within for that answer,” the mouse concluded and Faora cocked his head to the side. “Now, do you know what mistake you made with the scroll?”

	“No, Master.”

	“It has a Journeyman level seal.”

	Faora blinked and shook his head. “Forgive me, Master. I was-”

	“Distracted,” the mouse finished for him. “I am aware.”

	“However,” Master Leagus said, “The Archwizard and I both agree that you more than grasp the elemental magics. We are willing to overlook the mistake. Your Journeyman status stands.”

	“Thank you, Master,” Faora said with a respectful bow.

	“Journeyman Meridian,” Master Ocdor spoke again, “because of your grasp of the elements, and the element of water in particular, have you considered a specialization in Hydromancy?”

	Faora thought for a moment, then cocked an eyeridge at the two old magi.

The End