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Graphic Depictions Of ViolenceMajor Character DeathRape/Non-ConUnderage Sex

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Part 1 of Of Dragons and Dimensions Next Work →

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Published:2021-08-07Updated:2022-12-04Words:445,817Chapters:27/?Comments:1,178Kudos:798Bookmarks:538Hits:253,909

(Restricted) Glaurung

DragonSoulDreams

Chapter 3: World 1: Earth Bet, Storm Preparations

Chapter Text

A new day dawns, bright and clear. Have we really only been here three days? And a half I suppose. Doesn't feel that long. Lisa wakes up in the palm of my paw, while Pyrrha and Rein rouse from their actual beds. "Morning, how are you feeling?" The question is asked mostly to be asked. I can feel the shock of yesterday dissipated in the dreams of last night. She slept restlessly, but better than not at all.

"Better. Not great, but better."

"It's progress. So, how do you intend to spend your first day as a free woman?"

"Well, I have a hundred million of Coil's money in temporary accounts. I need to get it moved somewhere safer." The glee I can feel turns a bit bitter. "And if I don't want to be listed as a felon again I need to hand half over to the IRS." She grumbles.

"That's still fifty million for one night's work. Not bad. Welcome to the one percent of the one percent." I try to push warm-fuzzies across the shroud. It doesn't quite work, until her power picks up on it and takes up the slack. Lisa calms instantly and just relaxes against my fingers when that happens.

"Don't make a habit of that." She warns contentedly. The words and the tone a little at odds with each other.

"I'll restrict it to only when you're stressing about something silly."

"Hmmph!" Unlike when I was dealing with Skitter on my face yesterday, Rein and Pyrrha's suppressed amusement is entirely failing to help Lisa this time.

"Anyway, I probably need to talk to Brandish, see if she can find a maritime salvage law expert. Back home it could sometimes exceed the new cost of the ship if it was capsized in a port. That big container ship could be worth millions just to get rid of."

"I was under the impression you couldn't hold this place up when you're smaller." Carol remarks, sliding into the seat across the table from me. To the sides are seated Pyrrha and Rein. Well, Rein's standing on the table.

"It reduces my range. There's a reason I'm meeting you in the middle of the building. I figured thumbs might be required for signing paperwork."

"Not necessarily. As your lawyer I can sign for you with your consent. That's what 'Power of Attorney' is. But it does simplify things. I have one new set each of identity documents for you and SnowFairy due to your divergent physiology. No point setting up secret identities when you can't pass as normal.

"Two sets for WarMaiden, one if you want a secret identity, the other if you want to set it up like your teammates. I am obviously biased in favor of the latter, but I'm obligated to provide both options. The documents are mostly the same, save for the details of your appearances and names. On the first page you'll find…"

…

*tap tap… scribble-scribble* "Wasn't this pen new when we started?" A shroud-created pen wouldn't have run dry, but also wouldn't have been legally binding as a power creation. Given that I'm not entirely certain the ink would last forever in that case, it does make sense.

"Yep."

"Oh fuck me." Slumping in my seat, I rest my cheek on my fist. Inasmuch as I have a 'cheek' anyway.

"Later" Pyrrha sends, and when I look over she's slightly pink.

"I'll hold you to that." With a sigh, I grab another new pen, also sending Pyrrha a mental image of my muzzle buried between her thighs, tongue obviously digging deep. Her sudden spluttering causes Brandish to give her a funny look, and her bright red face combined with her heated but also halfhearted glare at me seems to provide the answer she was looking for.

"Teenagers." she mutters under her breath.

…

Once we're finally free of the legal niceties, I let myself swell back up to my full size and step across the street, getting a few honks from cars as I do, but I'm not blocking traffic, so I don't know what they're complaining about.

Settling down where I've been sleeping the past several nights, what little I sleep, I deploy the metal dome again and send Pyrrha a surge of lust. I may not be able to fully participate right now without help from Rein and now Tattletale, but the image I sent her is definitely possible. Sure enough, the lovely redhead teleports to me almost immediately, her presence in the shroud eager and her physical presence smiling brilliantly.

Laying down, I form an odd sort of couch in front of my face, inviting her to. "Have a seat."

She's already in place before her shroud-clothes finish dissipating, and I laugh as I extend my tongue. A couple tendrils wrap around her hips to hold her still, and then I let my tongue press forward, forked tip held tightly together as I slowly impale her on it. At full size my tongue is thicker than my cock is in midform, though not by much.

"Ohhhh yessss!" Pyrrha's hands reach down to stroke the tip of my nose, but otherwise she's just letting me do as I like. I twist my tongue back and forth, she squeals. I slide the forks back and forth and she screams silently. I twist them around each other first clockwise and then counterclockwise, she groans and squeals before shuddering in her first climax. Her taste is a little saltier than the first time I tasted her, must be all the fast food over the past few days. I should fix that… later.

As I carry on squirming my long tongue around inside her, I sneak a tendril up to wrap around her swollen clit, then start it vibrating. The shriek she lets out just goes on and on and on, but I can feel her pleasure in the shroud and she's loving it. Every muscle in her body is drawn tight like suspension cabling, vibrating under the strain before finally going limp when I stop.

"Hehehehehe Hah Haaaa hahahaha… Wow." She finally gets out. "Um, should I ask Rein and Lisa to cover you, so I can return the favor?"

"If you'd like."

"I would. Give me… five minutes. My legs are tingling."

"Hahaha."

I'm not sure what noodle incidents the doctors expect me to inflict on them, but apparently a vague disclaimer actually is my friend. The last of the temporary patients is rolled out into a waiting ambulance with an hour to spare, heading for another facility that doesn't require a volunteer to remain on-site 24/7. When I let go of the structure, it starts folding up and just keeps folding, like the whole thing was packing itself up for transport instead of the pieces disappearing once they're out of sight. After a couple minutes all that's left is the ceramic layer I put down over the asphalt to begin with. Even that reverts in a wave, tiles flipping back over to reveal the asphalt on the back sides.

"Ahhhhh…" I let out a big sigh, rolling my shoulders in my three-meter dragon man form. Turning to the Chief Surgeon of Brocton General, I extend my hand for a shake. "It's a relief to let go of that. Thanks for being reasonable about it."

"No problem." He gives me a bright smile, if a little age-worn. "We saved a lot of lives together, you and my team. I sincerely hope we never need you in this capacity again, but it's good to know you're here. For now."

Turning to the next VIP, I extend my hand to Panacea, leaving a tiny opening in Trace Defense for Shaper to get a tantalizing glimpse. "It's an honor to meet you." She starts to return the handshake and freezes, staring at my hand. When I notice her pupils starting to blow out, I yank my hand out of her grip and she jerks back as well. Looking me up and down, she lunges for my hand again. "I wasn't done!"

"What are you doing!?"

"Trying to understand! Your biology is incredible! It's all there but I can't understand it, like art!" I take a step back, and she takes one forward. Again, again, again.

"Ok, seriously, I'm all for a cute girl wanting to get her hands on me, but I don't think you're coherent right now. Victoria!? Little help?" A laughing Glory Girl grabs her sister in a bear hug and picks her up, holding her out of reach. A minute or so later a very embarrassed, but calmer, Panacea is wearing gloves for another attempt at a handshake. "Don't worry about it. Take a few days, if you still want a closer look when you're not getting power-urges we can talk. Maybe go get dinner." Letting a smirk cross my face, I give Glory Girl a wink. "I hear you like arranging double dates with your sister. Until then, I bid you adieu." Tipping a nonexistent hat, I turn and take to the skies. Behind me I can hear the beginnings of a sisterly squabble.

"Honestly, I think your biggest problem is going to be the EPA. It doesn't matter that the ships are already falling apart, you can't cause the contamination to speed up without paying for remediation." Patrick Steerhouse esq. isn't local, apparently the local lawyers experienced in these matters all left when it became clear that no one was ever going to be doing any salvaging.

"Hmm, I'll have to give that some thought. But otherwise I'm good? If I can contain the mess and get the ships out of there, the title holders will owe me High-Order salvage?"

"No two ways around that, they're blocking the harbor, it's their burden to unblock the harbor. I'll get the licenses for the work squared away, and I sincerely hope you do manage to solve the problem."

"You just want your commission."

The man laughs, shaking my hand. "Of course I do. Even one percent is a good payday on several hundred million."

"It's a pleasure dealing with an honest lawyer."

"Who said I'm honest? I'm just not screwing you."

I already know how I'm going to keep the mess contained, that's actually not that hard. The cofferdam is a time honored solution to the problem in general, it's just that building one on the scale of a megafreighter, right where the surf is heaviest, with a mix of sand and gravel on the bottom. Well, that's just shy of impossible. I'm sure it could be done even with the non-tinkertech available to Bet, but no one would do it because it would cost more than the value of the salvage.

I won't be paying a dime to build the thing. I might have to give a few fucks where the necessary multitasking is concerned.

…

Flying over the bay, I try to get a feel for the scale of the problem. There's only perhaps fifty ships of real scale. The rest are smaller, wrecked in and among the others. In the way, but not nearly so valuable.

I spend a few minutes getting a feel for how they're rocking in the waves, then turn to the few still active dock areas I can see. There's a massive concrete pad where standard cargo containers once sat in neat rows. Now it's empty, cracked, bleak. It's also a convenient place to land. Debris flies up when I backwing to kill velocity, but on the shore like this everyone knows how to handle a sudden gust of wind. A few yell profanities at me for the inconvenience, I flip them off, they return the gesture. I know from Worm that the ones who are left in the DWU instead of the gangs are good sorts, if crude and rough. An exchange of middle fingers passes for polite greeting in places like this.

Shrinking down to my hybrid form so I can enjoy such nice things as fitting in buildings, I wave to someone with a clipboard. He waves back, and seems rather cheerful as he approaches. "Glaurung right?" He offers a handshake. "I hear you're going to clean up the graveyard for us."

"Just waiting on the permits." I answer, accepting the shake.

"Aww fuck. They're going to drag their damned feet. Always do."

"I hope not. Anyway, who's in charge around here?"

"Depends what you need… Say… You wouldn't happen to need a bunch of strong backs with that salvage would you?"

"Not the salvage itself, but I'm going to have a loooot of old steel afterwards that needs to be scrapped. Someone's gotta cut it all down to size and ship it off. And the easiest place to pile it would be right here."

His smile widens. "I think we can do business Glaurung."

Raising my hands I shake my head slightly. "Oh, no, we can't do that or NEPEA-5 will rain on our parade. But if I dump a bunch of scrap metal on your premises without permission, why, I could be compelled to pay reasonable rates for cleanup. Now, if it so happens that the value of the steel exceeds the cost of labor, then those reasonable rates would be nothing, and you would simply keep the profit from the scrap metal."

He looks at me funny, then throws up his hands. "Not my problem, I'll introduce you to the guy whose problem it is."

…

Turns out, the DWU has an actual dockmaster position. It's mostly honorary at this point with no shipping, but I guess this sort of nonsense goes to him. If I'd hired them for the job I would have talked to Danny, but I can't.

Unfortunately Mr. Trent is entirely correct. For all the effort Patrick puts into getting them to move their feet, they seem to move at a glacial pace. "We don't have time for this… foot dragging idiocy."

"Why not?" Lisa asks, not looking up from her computer. It's a shroud construct, she doesn't actually need the keys or screen, but that doesn't stop her from liking them.

"You remember that timeline we showed you, the one that doesn't include us? What happens on the fifteenth?"

"Oh… OH!…" Lisa gulps. "That's probably not still going to happen right?"

"We don't know." Rein answers. "James was hoping to have the graveyard clear by then. All that metal plating could have been used to build defenses, and Leviathan wouldn't have as many ships to knock around."

"Actually, I was hoping to get an answer from Cauldron by now. But I get the feeling they want to test our 'goodwill' offering on an Endbringer first."

Lisa chews on that a moment, then nods. "Almost certainly. He's been heroing less and less, only showing up for the Endbringers. Conserving strength. He won't want to waste power on small fry if your suggestion doesn't work, which means the only time he can test it is at an Endbringer fight."

"I understand why, I'm just frustrated. Why win the war in an hour when you can pussy-foot around for a month." Standing up with a sigh, I look out over the city from Lisa's new backyard. More specifically the portal to the Sweet Home. It's open again, just inconveniently located. "You know, Flechette's supposed to be at that fight, but I don't see why we should risk butterflies there. Let's go salvage a dead-end." Looking at Pyrrha I explain while shifting up to a form that can carry a few passengers. "Someone who's entire reality collapsed for some reason. Like what would happen if Salem won. There are plenty of realities out there that can't survive the breaking of some specific prophecy, or the death of someone crucial to their stability. Fisher kings and the like."

"I… See." She shivers, the thought of Salem winning rather appalling to her for obvious reasons.

"So, who are we salvaging?" Rein asks, tugging on Lisa's sleeve. "Come on, you need to watch desu."

"One Lady Laurent, of the Soaring Crane school."

"Wait, who?"

"Soaring Sword Fiora. From the Immortal Journeys branch of Runeterra. The little character piece attached to the skin isn't much, but she actually put doing the right thing above advancing her cultivation at least once. So if we want a Ki Adept she's hard to beat. Her signature trick in the work she's from is a percent-max true-damage effect." I pause for a second before explaining for Pyrrha and Lisa. "A cut that ignored any and all defenses short of being frozen in time, to slice away a specific fraction of her target's maximum vitality, integrity, essence, whatever. She's depicted using it on humans, machines, gods, horrors from outside time. Everything really. Most importantly, if we get a ki-adept version of her, that should be teachable. There's no way we have enough time right now, but eventually."

"Summoning her sounds dangerous. What if she uses that on you?" Pyrrha asks from my right shoulder.

"We'll just have to play up the themes she's expecting. My Dragonsblood perk alone should be enough to gain her undying loyalty. Well, nearly undying, the whole reason we're picking her is because she's shown the ability to put other things above her cultivation. The shroud should do the rest."

"I still don't like it."

"Relax. You're pretty dangerous too. I'm confident I can speak with her peacefully even with just the interim binding. Just like I did with you." My confidence seeping into the shroud meets her trepidation and mixes into a confused mess. "Rein, can you barrier us so we don't give ATC a heart attack this time?"

"Sure!"

While Rein searches the dead-ends of time for the best result, I head into the control room to rearrange the island a bit. Mostly to conceal the mansion, giving an impression the place is slightly more natural than it is. The controls are wonderfully intuitive, but that unfortunately doesn't mean I know off the top of my head what it is I'm trying to achieve for appearance. Render after render is brushed aside, until I finally hit upon ensconcing the home in a sheltered grotto, the overhanging stone ensuring she won't see it until she looks from beach level.

Or maybe she'll catch a glimpse in the rolling waves, I'm not sure exactly what to expect, only generalities. Eventually Rein comes back with a verdict. "Hey! It looks like they dead-end anytime Yi gets his hands on the sword before dying."

"Which is what she left her school to prevent."

"Yeah..."

"We can work with this. Give me a few minutes."

…

Seated atop the flattened peak of the mountain, wings slightly arched and head held high, gazing into the great beyond. I may not be an eastern dragon, but this should convey the correct impression. The setting sun glints off metallic scales, setting them ablaze with light, offset by the light my own skin generates with the shroud.

A rustling in the brush, not one of the game animals. "I greet you Cultivator." I speak, pointedly not looking at her. "You are welcome in my domain so long as you do not violate its peace." The footsteps draw nearer, barely a whisper, her weight taken by her soul instead of her feet, barely making contact with the ground.

"What… is this place?"

"A land, torn in its entirety, from the grasp of fate. Here prophecy holds no weight, the heavens bar not your progress, and the years lay lightly on the skin." I know I'm describing a paradise for her. Somewhere to practice without worrying about heaven getting pissed off and sending assassin-spirits after you for getting too uppity, or hurling lightning while you're in the middle of something delicate. But given when she was pulled from, her answer should be…

"If it please you mighty dragon, tell me how I might return whence I came. There is a duty I have not yet laid to rest."

"You would return there, instead of staying here to attain greater refinement? If you go back, you may die before reaching this place again."

"I-" She takes a deep breath, and I can practically hear her setting her shoulders. "Yes. There is a man who intends to reach too far, to claim what is not for him."

"And so you set yourself to stop him." Turning and stepping away, I bring my head down to face her from a closer distance. "Congratulations Fiora, of the Soaring Sword. You pass the test."

"I apologize, great dragon. I do not understand the nature of this test." She bows respectfully. This is fun! honestly!

"You chose correct action over greater refinement. You placed the fate of your world over your own. To live, and die, a virtuous mortal instead of living a cowardly immortal. Sadly there is no return for you. Fate has pruned that branch from the tree of time. Your correct actions were not enough. Others faltered, and by them Yi reached the sword while you still gave chase. With your branch trimmed so, you were flung outside of time, a leaf" I add an appropriate fluttering gesture, slowly lowering my paw to the ground. "Fluttering down to join the detritus. I saw you, and seeing you desired you, but a fairy with a rotten heart is no more beautiful than a hag with a pure heart."

Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes and slowly blow it out, shrinking toward my hybrid form as I do and letting my shroud ripple hypnotically along my scales. Smiling gently, as well as can be done with a dragon's teeth, I open my eyes as I bring my hands together to present clasped hands. "Join us, and you may drink your fill of my essence to refine your own."

Her eyes are wide, but she returns the salute, bowing as well. "If I may master? Who is 'us'"

"I have gathered three already, each in their own way enlightened. The art of magic, the art of the soul, the art of seeing, and now-" I gesture to her with an open hand. "The art of Qi. My essence can aid in refining each of these and more. All who live here will be teachers. All who live here may be students. With your branch pruned, you are all that remains of your school. Will you allow it to wither on the forest floor? Or will you plant that cutting here?"

"I will plant it here." Fiora answers firmly.

"Then once again I welcome you. This time I welcome you home." And now to make sure she doesn't stab Tattles on general principles. "Walk with me." I gesture toward one of the game trails. "The others here do not hail from the same tree fate cut you from. I called time a tree, and this is true enough for the lesson, but it is merely one tree in a forest. Currently this floating land is… perched against another tree while we work to counter a being who intends to cut the tree down." Reaching up, I press a branch aside so it doesn't hit me in the face. Fiora doesn't need that since she's so much shorter.

"How can I do anything to a beast like that?"

"Because he is like the beaver, not the woodsman. He must sink his teeth into the tree, where we can strike. That, however, is a discussion for tomorrow. We have time before he must be faced in full, though one of his teeth will be striking a city several days hence. No, first we must speak of trees and masks... and Face. The people of every tree measure Face by a different cord, some have no desire for it, true, but many more measure and count it in ways unfamiliar to you. We will have to teach you of this quickly, for you are as yet an unknown face there."

Fiora's posture stiffens a bit when I explain that to her, the idea of not knowing how to save Face unpleasant to her. She's one of the good ones, so it's not outright abhorrent to her, but she doesn't want to be in the dark. "I will learn."

"Good. Most places measure quite simply, but knowing and acting are not the same. You will struggle to rein in your desire to draw steel many times in the months ahead. Perhaps it will take years before your hand doesn't stray to your hilt. In short, many peoples in the world we are currently working to save treats the spoken insult as a duel to itself. Each insults the other, and who delivers the most cutting insult wins." Not quite accurate, but I'd rather she dismantle someone verbally for being rude than physically. And really, insulting someone back is fair anyway.

"Drawing steel instead of delivering another insult admits you lack the skill to outdo them, and so loses face. Delivering an insult that cuts them just barely more than they cut you is a demonstration of skill, showing yourself the better without obliging them to seek vengeance. Like touching your blade to an opponent's throat without drawing blood. You could have, but you have the skill to hold back. In this way the insults are exchanged like a phrase of blades, back and forth, pressing harder until one yields. Drawing steel forfeits the duel, losing Face."

"That seems… Very strange."

"It is, but it is born of artifice allowing words to be delivered across the whole world in an instant. If I speak with someone ten thousand miles from me by way of a clever device, my words can cut him when my sword cannot, and so we may duel without steel and without travel. Many things come of this as well, gentle insults among friends are akin to sparring at quarter speed. This is particularly important here, as one of your new sisters is, if not a master of the worded duel, at least tremendously skilled. She will insult you, but as a master strikes their student. You parry, you counterinsult, and you grow more skilled."

"I am so a master."

"Shush. I'm making sure she doesn't stab you."

"I do not yet understand."

"You will, in time. For now it is enough to know that being the first to draw steel in an exchange of words is a loss of face. No one knows your Face on Earth Bet as this world is called. You must craft it from nothing, and the Face you craft for Earth Bet may only be known to them. Each world is a new opportunity to craft a new Face, which you may only use in that world. Like a collection of masks, though unlike a collection of masks there is no false honor, simply a new accounting in each world.

"Perhaps a better example would be the different monies used by different lands. When you visit a land that doesn't recognize your coin, that doesn't take away from its value in your home, merely prevents you from spending it in that foreign land."

"I begin to understand."

"Good." From there I simply walk in silence for a time, leading her through the woods covering the island.

…

Before heading up the mountain, I had the home create a beautiful cedar copse, with a meadow in the middle, soft new grass covering the floor. The path I lead her was no accident, I wouldn't even try to claim it was, but I do smile at the not-quite-silenced gasp when she sees it. Turning around to walk backwards farther into the clearing, I hold my arms open, beckoning. "Come, before you meet your new sisters, I would share my essence with you for the first time."

Fiora blushes faintly, porcelain cheeks airbrushed pink. The physical perfection leant by cultivation really is kind of ridiculous, it'll be nice when we all have it, even if it takes years. "As you will." Stepping into the clearing after me, she glides into my arms and returns my embrace, tilting her head back with lips slightly parted. Bending my neck, I accept the offered kiss. My flickering tongue brings her some confusion regarding how to respond, but she rallies quickly.

"I give you a choice with three answers. I can take the form of man, remain in this form, or return to my true form and become small. The first will provide the least essence when we couple, the latter the most, yet the same is true of my root. The size of man, the size you feel pressed against your body now, or the size you see beneath a horse."

Watching her eyes as she decides, I lose myself a little in the odd coloration, grey with bits of green and purple glitter almost. Her blush deepens as she considers her answer, and finally she asks a question of her own. "If I attempt the latter and find myself unable, will you allow me to select another?"

"I will."

"Then I choose the latter."

"Very well." I kiss her again and bring my hand up to stroke her cheek with the backs of the knuckles before starting to step backward. Deliberately starting the transformation at my head, I hold the kiss while moving away, neck growing longer and more flexible to bridge the opening gap as I back up and place my forelimbs on the ground. My tongue lengthens as I do, and I press farther into her mouth, wrapping the forks around her tongue and playing around for a few seconds before I slither it toward her throat. Carefully keeping the forks split, I avoid tickling the back until they're already halfway down, then the forks meet and she gags a little, gurgling wetly. I can feel her qi shift around my tongue and she stops gagging, instead simply holding her throat relaxed.

It doesn't really occur to me why I'm doing this without warning her, already sufficiently accustomed to just going along with what Sticky Fingers suggests that I don't question it until I start gathering power in my chest. On closer inspection it makes sense, but not something I would have thought of. Digging deeper and deeper, finally my tongue comes to rest pressed against the final stop at the bottom of her throat. I have no intention of sticking my tongue any farther, but I apparently don't need to. With a gentle breath I exhale a slow stream of Divine Fire, bent toward the aspect of The Spark of Inspiration. It flows along my tongue and down her throat, burning nothing before reaching the end and bursting forth in her belly. On and on it goes, filling her with the final word in 'hot meals', until my lungs are empty.

When I withdraw my tongue finally, she just stares for a moment then gulps heavily and shudders. "I-I thank you for your fire." The words come out as a raspy moan, her body shivering and eyes dark with desire. A few sure movements of her hands and her wide belt falls away to allow her short robe to flap open before she shrugs it off her shoulders. The silken leggings she wears slide down once she undoes the cord holding them in place and her breast wraps flutter to join them a moment later.

Perhaps it's not a surprise that the skin on her body is as flawless as her face, I'm sure there are any number of techniques that purge such imperfections, but she is beautiful nonetheless. Glancing down I note a distinct damp patch on the silk of her leggings, and spot droplets leaving their trails down her legs. There's also a literal glow to her that wasn't there before, auroric ripples of light wafting across her skin that I recognize as coming from the flames I poured down her throat.

"You certainly appear ready enough." Laying down, I roll to my left side and let my cock erupt from its internal sheath. No matter the stage of her cultivation there's no way she'll be able to take it all, but she doesn't need to for it to be enjoyable. Simply watching her try promises to be unbearably sexy. Fiora's footsteps still barely disturb the grass as she approaches, hesitantly laying her soft hand on my shaft near the tip. Her skin is a study in contrasts, the calluses where she holds her sword remain through any purging of defects, but somehow they apparently stay soft, like she's just massaged them with oil.

"It's hot."

"My fire warms my blood." My shaft twitches under her touch and the corner of her lip rises a hair. Shifting her grip, she wraps her fingers around just below the slightly flared tip, finding she can't quite touch fingers and thumb even with the give present in my flesh.

"Your narrowest point, and thicker than my wrist." Adding her other hand, she wraps them both around me and slides them down my shaft, her circled fingers opening wider as she goes, until her thumbs and middle fingers are tip-to-tip with their match on either hand. I sigh quietly, enjoying her touch, while she comes to literal grips with what she's agreed to attempt.

"That's already well beyond your capacity for depth." I tell her with a warm voice, pushing her hands back up with one finger until her hands are at about the two-thirds mark. "Beyond this point will cause you great harm." Repeating the trick I used with Tattletale, I create a thick sheath with the shroud to act as a stop, then continue pushing her hands further. "Beyond here will cause great pain, but your womb is as near your Dantian as can be reached without a blade." Another handful of centimeters and I stop again. My shaft even at that point is thicker than her forearm, but I expect a cultivator to be stretchier than the stock model. "If you cannot reach here, we will try a smaller form." A band of skin begins glowing blue courtesy of the shroud.

"Do not worry if you are unable. Of your sisters you are the second to attempt it in this form. Rein experienced my full length, but accomplished this through sorcerous means."

"I see." Turning around, she bends over and leans on my left forepaw, helpfully positioned for just that. Craning my neck around to watch, I help ensure I'm lined up with her dripping lips. If shown a picture without context I'd assume she'd had somewhat aggressive labiaplasty, but in context it's probably just more purging 'imperfections'. Same idea, just with less nerve damage. The shuddering gasp she draws when she makes contact though… If it's not faked then all the nerves which might otherwise be in fuller lips are just concentrated in the vanishingly thin inner lips she does have.

Flickering my tongue across our joining, I check for myself and sample her flavor at once. She's tart without being vinegary, like a dry wine, and cries out when my tongue makes contact. "Oh, she's going to be Fun I can see." She's also tight. Experienced or not, her muscle tone is literally superhuman, though I can't imagine these muscles have been part of her regular stretches. It's good she's so dripping wet to begin with, or she'd have a hard time just getting my flared tip in the door.

Rolling her hips, Fiora whimpers in pleasure when this grinds her thin lips against my head, but each rotation does wedge her open a little farther. Five or six gyrations and it finally pops in, drawing a loud cry from her lips as she slumps against my paw, her toned legs trembling as her strength melts away for a few seconds before returning. I give her a low chuckle and ask "When you refine your senses, do you refine all of them then?"

"Yes." She pants. "If you hear tell of a male cultivator erupting early, he likely completed this refinement recently."

"Meanwhile men enjoy it when their woman reaches the clouds and the rain easily and often."

"Indeed." Pushing herself up from slumping on my paw, she starts rocking back and forth. There's not much movement at first, but enough to feel. Her silken walls drag against the edges of my flare in the most exquisite way, slick and tight, yielding and warm. She's still tight, but perhaps a bit more relaxed with another climax out of the way. Or the first if whatever happened when I fed her divine fire wasn't one.

Her moans start to pick up again, her walls rippling around me, but she decides she's ready and starts pushing back, slowly and steadily stretching her tight pussy around my cock, both at the entrance and driving my flared head deeper. It's wonderful for me, tight heat squeezing down my shaft, tighter and tighter as I get thicker and thicker. I can't make up my mind where to look, watching her lovely pussy swallow my length is mesmerizing, but watching her face is just as entertaining. Her sparkling eyes flutter closed and her lips part when she pulls away, but they open wide and she grits her teeth when she pushes back once more. The alternating profound pleasure and overwhelming stretching creates a beautiful cycle.

Again and again she collapses against my paw, the pleasure and tension releasing in an eruption that steals her legs away each time. It's wondrous to watch and to feel. Makes it hard to hold back too, but I'm a cheating cheater who cheats. Each climax brings more sweat to her skin, tousels her hair a little more, adds a deeper hitch to her breathing when she presses deeper still the next time. She's sealed so tightly around my shaft that her juices can't really leak out save when she pulls nearly off me for a moment. The grass between her feet is getting a little soggy, and her scent fills the clearing, mixing with the cedar surrounding us and the grass beneath, a heady aroma of wild passion.

Eventually I feel a distinct ring of rubbery muscle, just as the ring of glowing skin passes her lips. "You did it." I congratulate her, gently nuzzling her head. The crane's head hair ornament she wears falls away when I do, and her hair slips free. An unscheduled breeze passes by just then, and I'm treated to her banner of hair floating out to the side while she looks up at me. "Ok, seriously, cultivator passive VFX are bullshit."

"Huh?" Comes Tattle's baffled answer, along with a tinge of irritation that I'm not letting her get her voyeur on for Fiora's first time with me.

"Nevermind."

Fiora just looks up at my face for a few panting breaths, then nods and closes her eyes. "There is still more."

"There is. It is your decision."

Closing her eyes she gulps, and sets her teeth. Bracing herself against my paw, she starts to push harder, face starting to screw up in a grimace as she applies more pressure. If I weren't currently in dragon form it'd probably be quite painful for me too, the pressure building and building on the tip of my dick.

Instead, as she starts rolling her hips again, it's more like a girl pressing hard with their tongue while licking the tip. It's intense, but wonderful, her spasming pussy massaging the first foot of my length as she stretches deeper first before there's any give to her womb. "Ahhhhuughhhh!..." Nuzzling her head again, I comfort her in her pain. I may have goaded her into it, but I didn't lie, and I did warn her. Any guilt I might have felt is absolved by the way she's walking into this with head high and eyes open. Well, figuratively speaking. Her eyes are clenched shut and her head is bowed while she backs up. Her formerly quiet breathing is gone, instead she gasps and cries out as the pressure and pain increases.

It's… Hard to describe why I find this so captivating. It's not just the pleasure of it, Rein would be delighted to recreate her dupli-pussy again if I just wanted something to hilt myself in dragon form. Watching a gorgeous woman struggle with the pain of trying to take more of me, because she chooses to, it speaks to me profoundly with words I can't articulate. Her writhing pressure is working, slowly, and through the pain I can make out the beginnings of triumph in her expression.

Then, much like when she was first trying to take me, she finally stretches enough that my tip manages to squeeze through. There's an abrupt jolt as I sink another few cm into her tight body. My tapered length wedges her entrance ever wider as she sinks, lips flushed with blood pulled tautly until they pale around it. Deep within her womb snaps shut past the flare and she howls, collapsing to her knees and dragging my dick down with her. The scream drags from her throat like a thing alive, twisting and undulating as she welcomes me where her body never intended. Finally her breath runs out, and she struggles to draw another.

I hold still for her, letting her adjust, but there's nothing I can do about the way I'm throbbing, my thickness pulsing within her to wedge that tightest hole open farther. Or about the way she clenches and ripples inside, pussy and womb desperately struggling to expel this intruder. Another keening wail tears from her lips while she's writhing on the ground, before she manages to regain control. Reaching up, she grabs onto my paw again to brace herself, dragging her body back up and choking back her next cry when that shifts me within her. There's fire in her eyes when she looks up at my face, triumph and pain etched into her teary expression.

Her legs are having nothing to do with this, and it takes her still more time to get them back under her. But then she starts to move again. At first it's just a millimeter or two, more tears springing to her eyes, but she masters the pain quickly and begins pushing back once more. Even then though she can't make the steady progress of the first portion, instead it's a process of slow repetition, gaining another millimeter every three or four thrusts. Even with Sticky Fingers, even as a dragon, even with the shroud helping me through my perk granted understanding of my own body and an impromptu nerve-blocker… Holding back is agony, the feeling of the squeezing pressure divine around my tip. It would crush a mortal, but I'm just treated to the most wonderful massage I've yet received.

Fiora needs this though, needs her triumph to be complete. I struggle to hold back until she finally reaches the stop I created, then in time with her shout of triumph I roar my own. My balls churn within me, and I erupt, flooding her womb with seed and Essence. The flare at my tip grows wider, acting as a seal when the pressure acts to force me out. Instead as the pressure is forced into her body, she stretches, belly swelling with the inflation of her womb. While she's shuddering and howling with the intensity she's experiencing, I nudge her head up and kiss her again, driving my tongue deep once more. This time I know why I'm doing it, as tendrils extend from the tip of my tongue and from my cock at various points. My free hand paw wraps around her gradually bulging form and brings more into play, cocooning her atop my dick and transforming her.

The actual binding was relatively understated with the others. Not so with Fiora. When the Soul Talent kicks in she flares with blinding light, the flames still wreathing her from earlier; the essence stretching her womb painfully; and her own Qi all coming together with a great flare before Condensing down to a point over the course of several minutes. I give her the time she needs for whatever she's doing, holding still and keeping her plugged while she's lost to the world in her sudden meditation. I may not read that much wuxia, but I know suddenly disturbing her here might injure her badly.

When finally it's over she's breathing easily again, and the pain is gone from her face. I'm still locked inside her with my flare behind her cervix, but she's smiling once again instead of crying out with self-inflicted torture. Attempting an awkward bow, she clasps hands toward my face. "Thank you Master Dragon." With that she tries to take a step forward, pulling away from my length. It's here that she discovers one final problem. "...I'm stuck."

I can't help laughing, even more when I discover that her cultivator's pride doesn't stop her from pouting when I do.

"Please, I ask for your help." She speaks when my laughter ends.

"You don't need it. Feel for the new magics shrouding your soul. They can do so much more, but for now simply create a ring of metal between my shaft and the entrance of your womb."

It takes a minute, but then "...I feel it." As do I. She thinks of metal as cold, and so it is. A limitation for another time.

"Now make it wider." Fiora grunts in pain as she does so, forcing her cervix open until I can slip free. A torrent of seed pours over the ground when I do, but somehow it's dulled. I suppose it makes sense, she captured and condensed all the essence it once held, now all that's left is dross.

"Well done. Now it is time to get dressed and meet your sisters."

"As you say." Her earlier silent steps are… Well they're something now. She's wobbling on her feet, legs not answering her commands quite how they should, yet even through that she's floating more gracefully than before. That's bullshit is what that is.

…

"Hi!" Rein pops in just as Fiora finishes re-dressing. "I'm Reinforce Zwei. you can call me Rein."

Fiora stares at her, then back to me, dumbfounded. "She is the one who took you to the root!?" Rein's eyes widen and she gives me an adorable pout, blushing deeply.

"By sorcerous means. A combination of the shroud you now share and her own magics." Putting one arm around Fiora's waist, I hold her to my side while I raise my other hand for Rein to perch like a bird. "Ask her to teach you and I'm certain she will. When we have more time."

Bringing Rein to my lips once she lands on my hand, I kiss the top of her little head. "Did something happen? Or were you just impatient to meet her?"

"Yeah."

"I guess I can understand. Fiora, Rein here is one of the friendliest people you will ever meet, in addition to being a powerful mage. She was the first to join me here, and understands many aspects of this world better than I do. Her advice is usually worth listening to."

Rein pouts. "'Usually' Master?"

"Considering the sort of mischief your mother enjoys..."

"Hey! Tattles is the one trying to ship you." She tries to deflect.

"Yes, but I wouldn't suggest always following her advice." Looking to Fiora again I explain. "Tattletale usually has good advice to give, but she often gives bad advice because it amuses her. Not about important things, but use caution. Come on, let's meet the others."

…

When we round the corner into the grotto where the house is currently hidden Fiora is still limping slightly, though much improved over the last few minutes. That feather-step technique taking part of her weight likely helped with that. Upon catching sight of the still all-glass edifice of the house, she makes a confused sound, the architecture completely foreign to her.

"It's a very nice home. And it should already be preparing itself for you." I smile at her, pausing my steps and letting her halt as well. "One of the properties of this place. Each resident gets their own workshop area which supplies itself with the tools of their craft. Rein gets mage device maintenance equipment and parts; Pyrrha got a mechashift workshop, that's the type of weapons she uses; I'm not sure what Tattletale got; and I imagine you will find alchemical apparatus, pill furnaces, and the like."

"What of my sword?"

"Oh, I imagine there will be whetstones and the like, but you won't be needing them." My smile grows. "Where is your sword now?"

"At my waist, as it… always… is…?" Staring at where it's supposed to be, she places a hand on the hilt that's supposed to be there and, sensing her intent, her shroud disgorges her weapon in perfect condition. The hilt emerges from a small rift of light over her shoulder, and it draws silently with no real sheath to rub against it. "What is this?"

"The shroud I laid upon your soul, it takes your equipment and makes it part of you. You may also create clothing with it, which will be the most comfortable you have ever worn, but the important part is what it does with things that are important to you. Here-" I hold out my hands. "Lay your blade here for the moment if you would."

Hesitantly, she does as asked. A gesture of trust and respect for her, made with some trepidation. Her emotions are starting to seep across the shroud, and while she's tightly controlled, they exist nonetheless.

"Now, step back and draw your sword."

"But it's in your hands."

"And if I ask you to clench your fist while I grasp your wrist, is it not still your hand?" Her hand goes to her shoulder, where the hilt might rest in the corner of her vision. Again the hilt materializes in her hand as she grasps it, disappearing from my hand when it does. Pulling the blade through the stationary rift causes the other end to sweep along the blade where I hold it, until it's once again fully in her hand. "Your blade is part of you now, its edge a reflection of yours. In time you may obtain materials to reforge it into one more powerful, which will be made easier by this magic."

"One does not sharpen their soul with a whetstone." Fiora nods her head.

"Not usually. If you figure out how, I'd be curious to see."

Walking deeper into the grotto with me, she asks after a distance "If our weapons become part of us, why does this Pyrrha need her… meka-shift workshop?"

"Mostly I use the ammunition presses." The girl herself joins the conversation from the front door. "But I'm also working on some upgrades. A couple things that got me killed the first time around. That sucked." Extending a hand, she walks closer. "I'd be happy to help you add some shifting sections to your sword, but it'll have to wait until we've had a chance to ignite your aura."

When Fiora just stares at her hand I can't fully suppress the chuckle. "It's a gesture of peace. You each extend your weapon hand empty and clasp them together. Customarily you also shake your joined hands up and down once or twice." the resulting handshake between the two leaves something to be desired, but it'll do.

"What is involved in this ritual to ignite my aura?"

"...I don't know your terms, but I just take some of mine and use it to light yours. Like using a candle to light another one. After that making it grow is up to you. I can show you techniques to do it faster."

"This will not harm my Foundation?"

I pick up the answer here, since Pyrrha doesn't have context for what the question even is. "In her people's entire history, aura has never directly harmed its user. Sometimes it brings them to harm, say when too many Beasts are attracted to their scent. I do know a story of a man whose aura induced bad luck within a hundred paces of him. It made his life difficult, but he grew very skilled as a result. Meanwhile his enemies were unused to the sudden and unpredictable misfortune, so they felt the effects much more keenly. His style of combat grew to incorporate this, waiting for ill-fortune to befall his foe, then strike when they were vulnerable.

"However, all the great beasts of her world are, so far as I can tell, living manifestations of Impurity. Attempting to Cultivate as you know it would almost inevitably result in Deviation. Once someone established a pure foundation they might succeed, but establishing it in the first place may well be impossible there. Instead the flame of aura protects them from those living impurities, allowing them to fight those beasts on a mostly equal ground.

"In short, no other has attempted to ignite the aura of a cultivator."

Fiora ponders that for a bit, staring at Pyrrha with a measuring look. I cut her contemplation short though. "Shall we move this inside? I will prepare a meal, and you can meet Tattletale, also called Lisa, though which to use and when is a subject of the rules of the world we're visiting. Suffice to say people of unusual power are permitted two Faces there, and treating with one as though it were the other is a loss of Face unless you are a close friend."

"That is very odd."

"Oh, I agree entirely, but politeness is determined by location. Why is it rude to place your chopsticks vertically in a bowl of rice?" I ask, heading through the door.

"Because it represents incense for the dead." Her answer is immediate and matter-of-fact, in the way of answers every child knows from a young age.

"Ah, but what about a land where they leave flowers for the dead instead of incense? Is it still rude to stand your chopsticks in the bowl?"

…

We find Lisa already waiting in the kitchen, apparently having done a bit of minor remodeling with the assistance of HANNA while I was inducting Fiora. The central kitchen area is sunken relative to the dining area now. It's only a few steps down, and I have to smile when I notice she's altered the default pitch of the stairs to accommodate my large feet. What was once a bar with stools around three sides is now the height of a dining table from their perspective, while the food preparation counters are adjusted to the same height, with a low glass wall between the two to stave off contamination. After accounting for the height of my preferred midform, the transformation of the room brings more of a hibachi style feel to the place. "You rearranged my kitchen!"

"I saved the old settings, if you really want them." Lisa smugly informs me from where she's sitting. She has a pair of excessively fancy iced coffee nonsense things, possibly with extra nonsense, in hand and on the table next to her. "New girl, have a seat. You should try this, then ask James to make another one to compare." The smirk on her lips is aimed squarely at me as she sets me up to be asked for some sort of entitled starbucks order. I know I'm going to end up making it, and so does she. Then again, introducing the wuxia character to coffee and chocolate, luxuries they've never even seen before, does promise to be interesting.

"New girl?"

"That wasn't an insult, if you were wondering." I bail her out a little. "Neither is the casual demeanor. She's taking your measure."

"You know, feeding her answers is cheating." Lisa calls me on it. "I know she's going to be thin-skinned, but I need to know how bad it is before I can fix anything." Fiora bristles more at that, lips starting to curl into a sneer. Then abruptly she changes directions and lowers her hands, taking a deep breath. "Well, at least her self control is good. That grinding can't be good for her teeth though. Eh, shroud can repair those."

Fiora looks to me in the midst of the comparatively gentle Tattletale Tonguelashing, eyes asking for help. "Would you truly thank me for interrupting your lesson... Student?" Nuzzling the top of her head comfortingly, I leave her to Lisa's tender 'mercies' and step down into the kitchen area. The fridge here is straight up magic, the veal inside is still perfectly fresh despite the week we were stuck on Bet. Or maybe time didn't pass here while we were out? The portal jumping forward a week would be pretty indistinguishable from it closing for a week from the other end. Hmm… Not sure there's any experiment we can do right now to verify either way.

Grabbing the remaining pair of rib-racks, I turn back to the island and start cutting them apart into tomahawk steaks. They're not the gigantic things you get with that cut on a cow, but they're substantial. Salting both sides I leave them to sit for a bit while I whip together a quick marsala sauce to go on top. It's a lot simpler than people usually think, I could make a pretty good one even before the whole catalog thing. You saute most of the ingredients together, adding them at the right times, then deglaze the pan with marsala wine. It really is that simple, just don't let it burn. Around me the kitchen comes alive with bits of shroud, extra hands to help with the cooking. Potatoes are scrubbed and minced, cooked and mashed. Then mixed with butter and garlic, salt and sage.

This time through the preparations though, I let the perk do the heavy lifting while I pay attention to Fiora's current trial. Maybe it's cruel to subject her to this so quickly, but when Tattles is done with her she ought to be safe enough to visit Bet with an escort. Probably Tattletale herself, as our only native gui-" Tattles is suddenly behind me, and Fiora has her hand wrapped around where her throat was a split second ago. *sigh*

"Incorrect response." is all I say about it, continuing to prepare our meal. A few seconds later I add "I know the temptation though."

"She is the most… infuriating… disrespectful… uaagah!!!"

"Thank you, I do try." Lisa is back in her seat again, having used Fiora as the beacon to teleport back.

"Oh, Fiora?" I wait until she looks at me again. "If Lisa declares you ready to visit Earth Bet before Leviathan shows up, I'll breathe inspiration down your throat again." I still don't understand why she enjoyed that so much, but judging from her expression it's a very good reward.

Pyrrha clears her throat. "Can I try… whatever that is? Her face..."

"How's your gag reflex?"

"Oh." Glancing up I find her cheeks dusted pink and her eyes averted to the side. "Help me?" The blush darkens when she makes that request, and I chuckle.

"Hmm, it will be suuuuuch a hardship for me⸮"

…

Soon enough I'm pulling the steaks off the grill, the extended bones working as excellent handles when I slap them on plates. With three full-size girls now there's two for each of us, along with a bowl each of the marsala sauce… I may have made too much. Oh well, the stuff keeps alright in a normal fridge, nevermind our magic fridge.

Leaning in, Fiora sniffs curiously, as though that would tell her anything she hasn't been able to smell from the kitchen for the past hour. Then again, the past hour for her has consisted of getting taunted by Tattles, and scolded like a student when she lashes out. She's not to the point of being able to strike back in kind, but her skin is thickening almost by the minute.

To either side of her Lisa and Pyrrha are moaning their appreciation, both faces overtaken by positively sexual pleasure. If Fiora went for Tattles throat right now she'd probably succeed, but instead she tries a bite and stops. Her focus shifts entirely to the food and she chews slowly, savoring every bit of that first bite. "How did you Refine the food? I was watching, you did nothing unusual."

"An innate power. I could sooner teach you to become a dragon than to cook as I do." She seems disappointed, but nods acceptance and takes another bite. "That was not an idle comparison. I really could teach you to become a dragon" She chokes and coughs. Once is all it takes with her powerful lungs, and then she's staring at me.

"How?"

"First, you must somehow adopt a serpentine aspect. Perhaps pills refined of viper's venom, or the core of a great serpent, or sufficient meditation on their striking movement. Once you achieve that, you will need to partake of my seed on many thousands of days. Not more than five hundred thousand, though how much sooner I do not know."

Smiling, I cut into my own steak, finding it perfectly done. The rolls are dense but soft, slightly sweet with the molasses, perfect for mopping up steak juices.

If Levi stays on schedule we only have a couple more days, yet sleeping in my own bed again makes it easy to fall asleep. Or perhaps it's how the pillow-nest actually has room for me to sleep on my hoard without squishing anyone. Well, they're more sleeping on me than the other way around, but the physical contact is comforting either way.

Even between Lisa and Fiora there was remarkably little strife when it came to bedtime, everyone just piling into the middle while I curl around the edges in my shrunken dragon form. It's kind of a pile of disorganized limbs and pillows, the sort of thing adults see groups of young children do and wince at how they'd feel in the morning if they tried that. We don't have to worry though, so if it's comfortable enough for the moment, it's fine to sleep like that.

"I got the best spot." Rein declares sleepily in our currently shared headspace. I just roll my eyes. Sleeping in unison mode is definitely cheating, but her wanting to be this close is endearing. "Awww."

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Chapter 1336 - 3