This is a short work of erotic fiction containing furry, or anthropomorphic, characters, which are animals that either demonstrate human intelligence or walk on two legs, for the purposes of these tales. It is a thriving and growing fandom in which creators are prevalent in art and writing especially.
All characters are over eighteen and clearly written to be so, as in all of my stories.
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Ember grumbled, the pink dragoness flopping to the ground beside her favourite cherry blossom tree (pink, just like her scales). It was not the sunny day that she had hoped for but a tumultuous, grey sort of day where the clouds scudded across the sky as if they were chasing one another, hasty to arrive in her scope of vision and just as eager to leave.
But it wasn't a normal sort of day as she grumbled and twisted, shifting and adjusting her position constantly. The dragoness' scales changed from pink to a shade of pinkish-yellow for her belly, running down from the top of her throat, though they were still forming their true colour as she became an adult. In terms of even their extend dragon-years, she was an adult, but it took a long time for their scales to settle, shifting between different shades for many years until they finally grew into both themselves and their bodies.
Her wings, however, were already fully-grown and had been for many years, translucent with pink membranes stretched between them, a pair of pale yellow horns pushing back from her skull with a light curve in the middle where they were thicker at the base. Although it was not usual for dragons in her world to adorn themselves, it was not frowned upon either and Ember wore a heavy pendant around her neck, clasped tightly around her throat in gold while the pendant denoted a ruby cut into the shape of a heart.
Groaning, she sat up, scratching the back of her head, paw running down her neck to her chest, toying with that pendant. It hung there as heavily as it always had but something about it that day seemed different, her scales super-sensitive, far more sensitive than they usually were. Why, it was to the point where she wanted, in part, to rip off her necklace and toss it away for the weight of it around her neck was too much to bear, scales crawling and itching no matter how many circles she turned in, tail following behind her with each completion.
"Ergh... What's wrong with me?"
Muttering to herself, she tried shaking herself off, her soft pace across the meadow coming in shorter and sharper strides than usual. She beat her wings but couldn't find the energy to lift herself from the ground, even though she was very capable of taking flight without anything of a running start or a height advantage, like a drop off a handy cliff or something. Every inch of her body ached as she juddered and twisted even as she walked, unable to keep her body straight and constantly turning one way and then the other.
It was not a state that Cynder expected to see her in as her friend stumbled into the crystal cave where she liked to meditate the best, the young adult dragoness slimmer and lither than Ember, who was of a more traditional build for the land in which she called home. Cynder still wasn't convinced that her egg had been cared for by the dragon guardians from the mating of a pair that had lived there, for there was no other dragon there that she had come across that looked like her.
No, she was longer and slimmer, her entire body holding a lanky yet deadly air to it, still growing into herself -- again. Not that most dragons had to grow into their bodies for a second time but she had been escalated to the late stages of maturity by the darkness and Malefor some time back, a part of her life that still lingered on the edges of her consciousness each and every day. That was why she spent so long meditating every morning and evening, taking the careful time to remind herself that she was still "her", still Cynder, even if her crimson underbelly and black scales reminded her of the time that she had become nothing less and nothing more than a monster.
But her friend needed assistance.
"Ember?"
She sat up, shaking off her long, slim tail with the white blade at the tip, still with a notch out of it, her horns itching as if mites were scampering across her scales.
"What's going on? Are you okay?"
It seemed like a silly thing to say when the dragoness, who was about the same age as her, was in such a state of distress, whimpering and twisting, rocking back and forth with her tail even trapped under her body. Whereas that was strange enough, there was a feverish gleam to her eyes and Cynder was quite sure that the pink dragon would have been sweating too if they had been mammalian and possessed the sweat glands to relieve their bodies of excess heat in that manner. As it was, dragons had to hang open their maws if they were too warm and Ember could not even consider closing hers, sprawling out with a whine, tail thrashing restlessly back and forth, back and forth.
Cynder leapt into action, though her reflexes were not what they had been, something cloying and heavy clinging to her, slowing her down. It took her longer than it should have to get Ember sitting up and sipping water from a bowl carved out of a piece of rock, polished smooth throughout many sessions with a grinding stone and, finally, many pieces of moss to bring it to a fine shine and perfect smoothness. It was an implement that Cynder was particularly proud of and it spoke volumes how highly she thought of her friend (and just how concerned she was about her) that she so willingly allowed her to use it. Things like that, things that she could make with her breath abilities and her paws, had become important to her, things that she could do and say: "yes, look here: this is me. This is who I am."
Knowing who she was... That was important. That meant that she'd never go back to who she'd been.
"Ember, can you tell me what's wrong?" She said gently, stroking her friend's cheek with the smooth edge of a claw. "There's got to be something. Flame didn't stir up the chickens again, did he?"
It was not something that would have brought Ember to such a state but remembering the time that the young male dragon, Flame, had let all the chickens out to run amok in Town Square brought a crack of a smile to Ember's face. With that, she found the strength to take a sip of water and then another, leaning heavily into Ember as she could not help but still rock and grind her hind end into the ground.
"Oh... It's so strange..." The words seemed childish and hatchling-like, which she was far from, coming from her lips, but Ember had to get them out anyway, wrestling with how her stomach lurched dramatically. "I don't feel right... I feel all warm...and tingly..."
Cynder blinked, pulling her head back sceptically.
"But it's not even a warm day. Are you sure that's how you feel?"
"Yes!" Ember snapped, tail thumping one of the crystals, a tall section of amethyst that Cynder had found and brought back to her meditation cave. "Of course, I know how I feel!"