Red Dragon

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Cats

It was a wondrous thing, even as a kid. Francis had the gift that, wherever he passed out, he would end up exactly where he wanted to go. As a child, during car rides with his father, he wanted nothing more than to be in bed. He would drift off, looking at the evening sky on the outskirts of Pennsylvania, and, the next thing, he would be home, all tucked in. It was like magic.

Which, even into his adult life, he still seemed able to pull it off.

He snorted, and slowly raised his head from his table in Johnny’s classroom, out of the puddle of drool. And blood. He yawned, stretching- wincing as every part of him demanded he stop committing such atrocities. If he didn’t know better, every part was screaming that those simple movements, that basic stretch, was a war crime under the Geneva Convention. Especially his back and arms. They screamed the loudest. Both sets of them.

He smacked his lips, tasting a ton of iron, and marveled again at those extensions, those thinner, second arms, at the hands at their ends, folded, holding itself along the sides of his normal set. It was a bit strange to get them to move, like the slightest tingle at the back of his mind, coming to terms with such abominations, but they slowly unfurled. Those digits opened, stretching the webbing that had been loose, showing off its colors. They were a pale brown, but had rivers of soft green and striking blue swirling through them, growing bolder towards the tips of those digits. He stretched them wide –and realized his actual hand did the same.

No... that won’t do at all, he thought, and closed his true hand into a fist, fighting to separate the pair. I did it during the fight. I know it’s possible.

It took a few minutes, but they did desynchronize and work autonomously to each other. He gave those wings soft flaps, wind billowing on the desk underneath, spreading Carl’s papers.

“Do you mind?” He mumbled putting a pen on top of the pile to his left.

“Not at all,” Francis said, and flapped them harder. “Do you see this? This is some of the sickest shit I’ve ever seen.”

“Cannot lie. They look dope.”

“I know, right? I thought the claws on the side of the arm were pretty neat, but these- did you see during the fight? They pulled that pussy in and held him while I wailed. Hmm! I’m Goro, bitches!”

He flexed those digits again- and gasp when it rotated. The entire arm rolled forward, facing just like his true had... He rolled his eyes, chortling at his own surprise. Of course it could do that; it did it during his fight with that Fanger. He wasn’t giving it much thought then, but what was new?

Oh. Right. His wings. His actual, truth to God wings.

They rustled at being acknowledged- and dug in painfully into the chair. He adjusted them, working them out on either side- which only hurt more as the “elbow” joint was now free to feel the cool plastic. He, also, pressed those out, and this time managed to fully stretch. The right needed to stop due to the wall, but the left reached all the across the room, behind Ben and Olen. Its final tip -first?- tip just grazed the whiteboard there. These folds, too had that sandy color mixed with green and blue... but, also, had giant, black spots in between the second and fourth fold. With red orbs inside those, with black moons inside them, repeating on and on until a single, golden dot at their centers.

“I know you are elated to have matured at last, but do you mind?” Captain Kidd exclaimed behind.

“Oh shut it,” Lucas said, cooing. “They are pretty.”

“Agree,” Mordred said. “However, class.”

“I know I know,” Francis said, flexing that wing, feeling the... power under it. “Just... give me a moment.”

He pulled it back in... and wondered... He looked to Johnny’s desk, and coaxed his wing forward –which it did. Easily. It was, also, on a rolling joint. It rose over his shoulder and clawed at that table, those long, white tips ending just before Johnny, sitting there. The incubus was shaking his head, but Francis could tell he was just as intrigued.

“If women didn’t call you handsy before,” he uttered, and chuckled. He held up a book, holding it out for the drachen. “Go ahead. Let’s see how strong they are.”

“You sure you want to start with a textbook?” Olen interjected. “Those things can crush a small child.”

“Sometimes you have to run before you can crawl,” Francis said, and grabbed it. Those claws sunk so easily into the tome, tearing through the hard plastic exterior –which is good because he finally realized that neither set had a “thumb”. All of the digits pointed one way, worked in one direction. Not one opposed it.

“You have it?” Johnny said.

“Yes. You can let go.”

He did, and his back ached. The wing trembled, trying to keep it from falling, but it was a losing battle, shuddering down to the desk. At least it was a shuddering fall and not an outright plummet... The tricky part was if he could lift it back up. He grunted, panted, sweating as he used that wing alone to try to pry it up.

But. It simply wasn’t in the cards that day. He pulled those white tips free, and exclaimed, feeling exhausted. Already. Johnny pulled the book back, and tapped it...before pushing his finger through one of the holes. Then two into one, three, four- he held up the book, showing how much he bore through, and Francis could see the other side of the plastic cover through the pages.

“Your grip isn’t in question,” he stated. “Then again, you’ve been flexing and clenching them all this time, haven’t you?”

“I suppose I have.” He uttered a laugh as he folded that wing back towards her, fist-bumping it. “These little things have come a long way... Probably why my back has been killing me for the last few days. Now, when do I grow a tail.”

“I don’t think you will. In truth, I’m surprised you even got the secondary set of wings... Ah, but the day is done.”

“Good! Because I am starving. Knuckle sandwiches aren’t exactly filling –and, speaking of-”

“Tyson has been suspended until after the holidays... It was the best Lilith and Eve could do.”

“Oh? But what about me? Do I get that much time off- of course I don’t... right?”

“Why would you? You technically didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Except make that dick look even worse,” Ben said. “Even when you were out of it, you put up more than enough of a fight. Wish I could have joined in, but I’m a lover. Not a fighter.”

“And I’m fucking jelly,” Olen chimed in. “The best one could do is toss me on a Fang and then-”

“Nah. It’s. It wasn’t your guys’ place to jump in,” Francis said, but nodded to Mordred... and nudged Carl. This time not hard enough to knock them off their chair. Just... to rock it. “I’m thankful that you did.”

“Batter up,” Mordred said.

“Damn right. Those were some clean launches. If only there was a himan baseball league-”

“There technically is,” Lucas said. “The Irons Maidens is my favorite team. Problem is it’s sort of a female league. Adding a male would add an unfair advantage, and there’s not enough men to even make a team let alone an entire league... Being a himan male is suffering.”

“Wanted by all the other women, plenty of variety, involved in a secret world many people only dream of being a part of; yes, this is indeed true suffering,” Francis said.

“Hi! Gay, remember? And most himan males are STRICTLY straight. The only way I get any action is to hit a furry convention.”

“You know what? I apologize, Luke. Your life IS suffering.” He sighed, echoing deep in his belly as he stood. “Anyways, I’m heading to the diner to celebrate these lovely additions. Might even try to fly th-”

“No!” Johnny belted out. “Even as a joke, no. They are not ready yet.”

“All the better. Who doesn’t love an Icarus-style fall from grace? It’ll make the day of the dumbasses who still fear me.”

“About that,” Captain Kidd uttered, clearing his throat.

Just in time for the door to open.

It wasn’t Bridget. It wasn’t Desiree. It wasn’t even Ali or any of the usual flock. Instead, it was the faceless droves of people who hissed his name, cursed it behind his back, who once scattered upon his very presence... Now looking upon him in awe.

“He is okay,” one said, passing through the CROWD behind with such fervency.

“Look at him. At those wings!”

“He’s so strong.”

“And handsome.”

“Bridget had it right all along.”

“Bridget? What about Dixie? The harpies?”

“The wolf pack was vouching for him; I had doubts.”

“The monster of Vereor Nox-”

“He is our guardian.”

“Out of the way, sheep!” Penny barked, shoving aside the mob as she made her way in. Tried to, at least. It took a blue bolt to make them scatter, but some rushed into the room. They pushed by Francis... and hid behind him. Plank, meanwhile, stomped her way in, huffing as she wiped off her staff. “Look at that, Francis. You have become their martyr.”

“Wouldn’t I have needed to die to be one?”

“To be fair, it was close,” Carl said.

“You’d be surprised. I had far closer calls than from that twink and his army of bimbos –and about them-”

“Terminated.” Lilith said, sauntering in behind Penny. It had been a while since Francis laid eyes upon that temptress –which she giggled at being thought of such. “By order of Matriarch Raeanne Vreshen.”

“As in... literal gun-to-the-head-shot-until-dead terminated? Damn, that seems a bit cruel. They were dumbass whores, sure, but they didn’t deserve to die for it.”

“It was Tyson’s punishment. ‘Remove his toys’... I must apologize for the beginning of the year. It is quite apparent now you were discriminated against and put in a bad light the instant you stepped foot in this place. Even Raeanne is in agreement on that, after having seen the video of today’s events. She will have Tyson on a far tighter leash from now on-”

“Fat fucking chance,” Johnny muttered, clearing his throat as he hid his wry smirk from Lilith’s glare.

“It’s nothing but lip service,” Francis muttered... but pressed. “What about Tina? Is she caught up in all this?”

“She... has been informed,” Lilith said. “And her unexpected exodus will be coming to an end. She will be back tomorrow-”

“And I’ll probably get an ear-full. ‘How could you attack my brother like that. He is a good man. Why did you interfere in my family’s business’-”

“None of that actually,” Tina said, sitting on Johnny’s desk. “Unless you were expecting it and that’s how you get your rocks off.”

“Won’t lie. Bitchy women is sort of my kink.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Penny... and Desiree both exclaimed. Lilith tittered as she walked out of the way of the door, letting the lamia in. Her face was already nice and cracked, but his statement only added more, shown more of those veiny, yellow scales.

“I didn’t mention anyone,” Francis mused, chuckling- groaning as his stomach yelled at him again. Much more insistent. “Des, I promised you lunch, didn’t I? It might be a bit late, but want to go now?”

“That’s exactly why I was here. We probably won’t play any, but you must be starving after all that.”

“Which I was barred from warning about,” Tina said, scowling at Francis. “Ever since our meeting earlier this week, he planned to get back at you.”

“Eh? But nothing happened?”

“That’s not the point... He told me to stay away from you. He gave me an order... which I refused.”

“Aw... Naughty, naughty. You’re turning into a bad girl. Do you need a spanking?” He slapped Johnny’s table with his left wing. “I have more than enough hands now.”

“So I see... They aren’t... what I expected.”

“There’s no way in Hell I was getting angel wings. But there is something I am curious about...” In one, swift motion, he wrapped that arm around her, pulled her in, and cupped her chest. While his other “hand” felt her midriff. His arm-wing stretched out, as well, touching her face... and him chuckle. “Huh. They do have feeling... Makes me wonder how they would work in bed.”

“Then work them on me,” Desiree whined, tugging at his right wing. “Come on... I’m starving.”

“You heard the little lady. Looks like mommy and daddy can’t have fun yet.”

Tiny scoffed, pushing him away, but she was smiling.

“I’m an old-fashioned girl, you know,” she said, holding up five fingers. “You need to take me out this many more before I even consider it.”

“Good luck with that,” the lamia said. “I haven’t been able to even get ONE.”

“We’ll see... Until then, Francis.”

She flitted off, and that was all Desiree needed to grab his arm from behind the leathery curtain and drag him out the door. Folding those limbs back in turned out to be quite the challenge. Just like his actual arms, they wanted to be lax, released, and the extra skin attached weighed down quite a bit. So much so that he had no choice but to go her pace instead of being the one to take the lead.

Meanwhile, it seemed all of Vereor Nox watched after their exit. The monster, once their vision of a nightmare, of Hell, they now stared after in awe, in adoration, in reverence. It had only been a couple months but, in that time, he proved himself to not be their image of destruction and despair but of hope and perseverance. He was their beacon, their paragon to stand up to the evil that truly reveled in those halls. Which means it’s all downhill from here.

“What’s so funny,” Desiree asked, her coils hissing on the warmed asphalt of the parking lot.

“Oh, just placing a bet with myself,” he said.

“On?”

“How I’m gonna fuck this up.”

“Mess... what up?”

“Yes.”

They had their meal, enjoyed the small talk, then parted ways. With his belly full of “Mom’s” burger (he ordered four of them but she gave him the shark’s proportion... He barely got it all down, and only managed what he did because he removed the last of the table-sized bun), his mind only had one place left to trudge –two places, but there was no way he had the energy for the second. He lumbered through the door, to the bedroom, and passed out, face down...

“OH NOT AGAIN!”

Francis instinctively rolled off the bed- which, turned out, was not really possible anymore. The wings felt like they were going to break, both from the tumble AND the landing. It at least woke him up, and he saw Jessica standing at the foot of the bed.

Naked.

“Uh,” he uttered, yelping as she pounced upon him, stroking his face.

“Hello,” she said, drawing it out, mingling with her purr as she continued to caress him. “It’s your lucky day. I’m off. Why don’t you go ahead and get back on the bed?”

She rose off of him, but held on to his face, leading the way. She sat on the side, biting her lip as he eased himself back onto the lavender-scented bedding. Her eyes slithered down his body, drinking in every detail of his form as he did, resting on the lump in his blue jeans. One of her hands let go of his face and clawed down his front, scratching, hissing against his flesh, the cloth... the denim. She squeezed that lump, rubbing it up and down along his thigh, purring louder. Her wings fidgeted; her tail twitched, all the while her eyes continued to savor him, returning to his.

“That was quite the spectacle you gave today,” she said, and her other hand left his face, tugging, teasing at the end of his shirt. “To think that’s what you could have truly done to me IF you were trying to harm... I wanted to say I’m sorry for how I treated you. You put up with enough crap without me pushing more on.”

“Well, I was sort of in your apartment-”

“Yeah. You were. Just like you are now... Do you believe in Fate, Francis?”

“Not entirely.”

“Good. Me, neither. In my opinion -and experience- Fate is a mix of coincidence, luck, and predetermination... That day you stumbled in –the first day... That turned out to be the worst day of my life. I received word that my dad had cancer, that I was behind on my payment for the Academy. Then, at work, I was chewed out not only by an angry customer but also by my boss who cut my pay for the day. I was at my wit’s end... In truth, I was more than ready to drive into the other lane and either plow into a semi or the steel girder. But then, I remembered our ‘meeting’.”

She sniffed, and a tear fell down her cheek.

“You were so... kind to me... You cooked for me. Granted, you gave me food poisoning, but it was the thought that counted. You still helped me... Ever since, I nutted up and said fuck it. The world sucks, and it doesn’t care. So give it the same treatment. I quit that job -after stealing a few thou from the till-”

“I think that’s illegal.”

“No cameras and the boss was funneling anyways. He was writing reports wrong; difference was it’s in my pocket now. I got a FAR better job, my dad is getting through chemo, and I am caught up on my payments. And it was all because I caught you naked in my bed... It’s just a shame we couldn’t enjoy Halloween together, but no one is bugging you now.”

“True enough, but wasn’t here a condition for that?”

“What?”

“I had to cook for you.”

She chuckled, a throaty thing, and unzipped his pants, reaching inside.

“Don’t worry. You can always do it after. We’ll both be hungry then... Mmm... it’s as big as I remember.”

She swung herself on, and straddled his face. Her own was before his meaty staff, already mewling and lapping at it –which turned out she had a coarse tongue like a cat. She stopped after a few laps, her tail flicking overhead, and she wriggled her rear on his face, moaning as his tongue finally slipped out and tasted her. Sweaty. Very sweaty, and very hot. As was the rest of her.

The fur was no joke. Each moment that passed it felt like a new hot spot formed. Even to Francis, it was starting to become sweltering, but she was a gracious host. She blasted him every so often with (slightly) cooler water, his only warning being four, rising soft gasps. Little by little, she took his member into her mouth, moaning, panting, gulping it down as she bounded on it. She pulled it slightly off to the left, raising her leg, nursing it as she watched him eat her out.

The four, quick gasps returned, and he watched her mouth stretch, showing how far his rod was down her throat as a silent moan took her. Her thigh twitched, her tail slashed at the floor, and her right wing stretched far... closing as she settled again. She let his member slip out and rose again, straddling his waist.

“I’m ready,” she whispered, whimpered... yelped as his mast slid inside. It felt as though her insides were about to crush him with how hard they clenched. Blood flowed down on his member, from those bright pink lips, inch after inch disappearing into them. She managed six before she had to stop, leaning over him, sobbing softly... but kissed him. Her hips moved on their own, rising, falling but keeping that distance. The four gasps came again and again, drenching him, all the while he petted and embraced.

She sat back up and put his hands on her largest set of breasts, head lulling back as he teased and played with- two sets. She gasped and looked down, seeing his arm wings on the set under, teasing just as much. An actual mewl escaped that time, and the dam was broken, her voice allowed to be heard. It was still far softer than the one in his dreams, but it actually made it tolerable.

Far too tolerable.

“Ah, shit,” he grunted, and started to buck in. “I’m gonna-”

It was too late. He gripped her chest, squeezed those tits hard, but his rod shot harder, filling her up. She fell on him, yowling as she lapped at his face, holding him as each shot brought another gasp. She laid there, softly sobbing, kissing him as his lust overflowed and ran with the blood down his shaft. Neither one refused to break it, though, holding each other so.

At last, Jessica pushed a bit forward, rose up until, with a soft pop, his member fell onto his belly, then she rested upon him again, nuzzling his neck.

“You can cook for me after we wake up,” she muttered, tittering as she yawned, kissing him one last time. “Next time I might even let you take over.”

“Might?”

“We’ll see. If you’re man enough.”

He scoffed, but it faded into a yawn, his eyes drifting shut again as he pet that manticore. That went better than expected, and served as a reminder of what was coming Sunday.

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