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Welcome back, one and all, to MPreg March 2013! Apologies for the delay; back injuries suck!

For those who don't know, this a month where I strive to enrich myself through application of writing prowess to male impregnation-focused stories! In the past, I created a world built around beings called Serevokin who, as an all-male race, breed exclusively through 'lesser' races who are dominated by pheremone-laden musk and intense, mid-coital suggestion that shapes behaviour. This year, I continue the Serevokin story!

Here now's the second chapter of The Missing Link; enjoy!

• Faora, of the Sea's Song

Road's Trials

It wasn't that Sera hated the road. On the contrary, really; the scientist's mind in him found the discovery of new places and new things entirely fascinating. He had been very fond of telling Karyn that one's knowledge could not expand beyond the horizons one had seen, and he'd taken pride in having spent three of his years - no small chunk of his life - travelling throughout the Serevokin Alliance territories. Few Serevokin attempted to see all that there was. Some part of him had relished taking up his old walking staff and travel coat and heading out into the world again.

No, he didn't hate the road. What he hated to his very core was the way the roads had become more and more dangerous since he'd last walked them. The Cult of Rolkotarni had claimed more than a few outlying settlements, and new, strange creatures Sera had never seen prowled the plains and forests just off the road. The world was changing around the Serevokin Alliance. Everything hung in the balance.

Perhaps the importance of his quest was what had caused the dreams. They all began to the same way, with a recollection of his breeding of Karyn. They branched out and diversified after that; some showed wind-swept plains, others tall pines. Rivers and trails and caves flitted before his unconscious mind, and when he awoke each morning the Serevokin was filled with renewed purpose. It was like whatever power had invoked the vision had lingered on, feeding him more information. Like it also wanted the Bastion found and the Cult stopped. It was a shame, he told himself daily, that the knowledge hadn't picked someone younger. Maybe a more able body, not strained by the rigours of over a decade of life, would make better time.

And yet there was Sera anyway, as he trudged along a dusty path toward one of the towns that had been razed by the Cult two years earlier. He'd seen the report from the survivors. They'd overheard the Cult members talk about its uselessness, how there was no strategic value to keeping the town. It set Sera's blood to boiling, and the spines on his back bristled. People had lived there. People had died there. Usefulness was a relative thing.

He shouldered his pack as he looked up. Just over the next hill would be the remains of the town. There he could rest, collect water from a river nearby and hunt game for additional food. He grit his teeth as he pushed himself onward, less for bodily strain and more from frustration. If not for the damnable war, he wouldn't have been forced to push his old body off on another journey for goodness knew how long.

His internal complaints cut off and his head rose as Sera thought he caught a sound. The Serevokin paused midstep as he cocked his head to the side. A second later he caught the sound again, but it wasn't until it came a third time than he managed to make it out as a cry for help. Sera set his jaw and pushed himself into a run.

The draconic almost needn't have bothered. He'd only made it two more steps before a figure crested the hill above him in a full, terrified sprint. Sera only increased his pace as he gripped tighter at his staff. Searching eyes fell on a furred tail, black hair. Whoever it was, it wasn't Serevokin.

A trio of extra figures rose over the hill, and their guttural shouts in the old Serevokin tongue gave their identity away clearly. Whoever the lesser was that they were chasing, Sera was able to catch their words perfectly. They meant to kill him. And while it would have been oh-so easy to simply step aside and let all four pass or turn the lesser over to the Cult in exchange for safe passage, Sera knew there was only one course of action available to him. He stopped his run, shrugged off his pack and planted his staff firmly in the center of the road.

The figure ahead paused for a moment as he finally caught sight of Sera. In that moment there was panic enough to make him stumble, but he caught himself and bolted right for Sera as soon as he recovered. "Please, help me!" he called out, and Sera was finally able to make out his features. Coyote, of the Virillo tribes.

Sera simply gave him a nod and turned his attention to the canine's pursuers. As they came more fully into view, Sera was able to make out the brand to their naked bodies. A pair of curled draconic horns with a sword's blade thrust between them adorned their chest, seared there as a reminder that they served the Cult of Rolkotarni. The details in those melted scales may have been lost, but the image and connection were both clear.

The coyote's eyes fixed on Sera's bared chest as he approached, as if just to be absolutely certain he hadn't missed the brand there. Satisfied that the new Serevokin wasn't with his pursuers, he cowered behind the travelling draconic and covered his head with both arms. "Please, I can't go back! I don't want to go back! Don't let me go back!"

"Fool! You belong to me!" came the yell of the black-scaled Serevokin leading the charge. "Your treachery will not go unpunished!" The three Cultists slowed down as they came before Sera and the leader's eyes narrowed. "I am Kortakilya of the Cult of Rolkotarni. What lurks behind you, slave, belongs to me."

One of Sera's eyeridges lifted as he glanced briefly at the wretched form behind him. "Last I checked, I was a slave to no one," he replied as his fingers wriggled against his staff. "I am my own master."

The golden-scaled male to the leader's left snorted once. "You serve the alliance," he muttered. "You're half a Serevokin!"

That Serevokin fell silent as the leader glared at him for a moment. "You protect my property, do you?" he asked, as he turned back to face Sera. "Such a thing is dangerous. We will kill you, should you force the issue."

Sera's other eyeridge lifted as a smile spread across his muzzle. "You will kill me? Well, sounds to me like I am not the one forcing anything." He lifted his staff slightly and stabbed it into the dirt road again. "If you really wish this canine back in your care, then the three of you should have taken better care of your hashrah." His smile turned into a smirk as he grinned at the leader. "He had only just birthed?"

The black-scaled draconic's teeth ground together. "I had no time to re-assert control. Others vied for his body, and they had to be put in place. By the time I was prepared, he was gone." Koltakilya glared down at the form behind Sera. "He has run for three days. He will not run another minute."

"Of course not. He is obviously exhausted." Sera shook his head slowly and sighed. Damn Cultists. "Your standing is obviously high, to have others who seek to take your hashrah. You must have many, many breeder-slaves at your disposal. Allow this one to leave. Save yourself the trouble of recapturing him."

The third draconic laughed outwardly and shook his green-scaled head. "You're only one old male against the three of us. You're just bringing your end of days to bear sooner!" He stepped forward and raised one clawed hand as the coyote behind Sera scrabbled backward.

Sera's staff whipped up and smacked firmly against the green Serevokin's wrist. He reversed the stroke and brought the staff around and down against his assailant's forearm hard enough to make the other draconic cry out. With a quick step forward of his own, Sera thrust the staff forward and slammed it hard into his overeager foe's face. Blood spilled out of a broken muzzle, and he grunted as he fell to the road.

The golden-scaled male on the other side of the road moved to aid his friend. He lunged forward to grab at the other end of Sera's staff, but a quick tug from Sera brought the Cultist right up against his back. His tail swept out and knocked the golden draconic's legs out from under him, and he let go of the staff just in time to catch a long, hard blow across his face as he hit the ground.

A quick glance over Sera's shoulder showed the leader of the trio hadn't made a single move. He stood tall, arms folded as Sera straightened up and planted his staff in the road again. "Your associates will awaken with quite a headache, I suspect," Sera said as his free hand brushed down his coat. "So very rude. No sense of integrity. Now. Where were we?"

Kortakilya smiled thinly as he took a single step back. "I will not warn you again, old one. And I will not make the same mistake my fellows have. Return the toy to me. I will even allow you the privilege of breeding him first, so long as I retain control of his mind."

Though his spines twitched with anger at the suggestion, Sera nonetheless bowed his head in a gesture of respect. "You are generous, but I must decline. I am honour-bound now to his protection. You understand."

"I do." The other Serevokin returned the bow as his claws flexed. "I applaud your conviction and salute you as brotherkin. Your sacrifice will honour your charge, and I will allow him to remember your death in his name." His head lifted slowly, and he started toward Sera.

Sera held his breath for a moment before he whirled his staff around and brought it up to jab at his Cultist's chest. The staff was knocked up high as the Cultist brought up an arm to block the blow, and he spun in and landed an open-palmed punch to Sera's chest. The older draconic landed on his back and skidded slightly back down the road under the force of the blow, and he grunted as he squeezed his staff tighter and pushed himself back to his feet.

His opponent was on him almost before Sera could rise. A quick trio of punches teased Sera's defences, and the alchemist batted the first two aside with his staff before he deflected the last with one arm. He cried out as that arm was quickly trapped by the faster black-scaled draconic, and he dropped his staff to the road as he balled up his fingers and punched hard up into Kortakilya's face.

He managed to land three blows before the other Serevokin managed to bring his other arm up to ward off the blows. He quickly pinned that arm too against his side, and with a grunt of exertion he crouched down and heaved Sera up and over his head. He let go at the peak of the arc, and the older draconic cried out as he flailed through the air and crashed down hard against the dusty road.

A groan slipped out of Sera's muzzle as the sun was blotted out by the face of his opponent. It smiled down at him coldly. "Your death honours your charge, brotherkin," he said, as one clawed hand reached down to wrap around Sera's throat. "I will tell him of your bravery and strength, that my progeny learn from your example."

No sooner had he begun to crush Sera's throat than a slender streak of brown came out of nowhere to slam into the side of Kortakilya's head. It drew a snarl from the black Serevokin as he stumbled to the side, and his hand rose from Sera to ward off any more strikes. A glance up showed the coyote, eyes wide with fear and with Sera's staff clutched tightly in his shaking paws.

The distraction was all the opening Sera needed. He spun on his back and kicked out with his legs, and within moments Kortakilya's legs had vanished from under him. He cried out as he fell to the ground, and Sera snatched his staff back from the coyote as he rose again. Unlike his opponent, he didn't waste any time. He drew his staff back as the black-scaled draconic's eyes widened. The staff came down end-first right in the center of Kortakilya's throat before his hands could move to block or deflect the strike. There was a snap at the moment of impact, and the Cultist's body shook with the blow. He coughed, and black scales became dotted with red as blood spilled out of his muzzle. He shook again as Sera brought his staff up for one more strike, but the downed Serevokin wouldn't move.

The next blow stilled Kortakilya's body entirely. Blood trickled from the corners of his muzzle as Sera planted the end of his staff once more in the road, and he heaved a long, deep sigh as he stared at the downed draconic. He watched closely, alert and awaiting some sign of continued life in his broken body, but nothing came. The cultist's body was unable to regenerate quickly enough from the wounds it had sustained.

Sera's head lowered as he hissed a long, quiet sigh. "Fool need not have engaged me," he muttered, before he turned his attention to the other two. Still very much alive and very much unconscious, Sera briefly toyed with the thought of killing them while they were helpless. He turned away with a shake of his head a moment later, and his eyes fell on the coyote he'd rescued.

The canine had fallen to both knees behind Sera, his head low to the ground. One paw was pressed to the dirt before him with the other raised, palm out, toward the tall draconic. One of Sera's eyeridges lifted with confusion as he looked the smaller male over. "Are you injured?" he asked.

But the coyote didn't move. His head remained bowed for a few more moments before it lifted to reveal his smile. "No," he finally answered. "I was in prayer. To offer the gods my thanks for sending you on my path. You've saved my life, noble Serevokin. I owe you everything."

A dismissive wave of a scaled arm was all Sera offered before he reached down to snatch his pack up off the road. "You saved yourself when you slipped your bonds," he pointed out as he turned away from the canine. "There is a village, a day's walk back down this road. They will take care of you and help you find the way home."

Sera began to head back up toward the hill that the coyote had originally fled from. He managed to make it about a dozen steps before he caught the sound of paws on the road behind him, and he frowned as he turned to regard the coyote still at his back. The other male had fallen into step behind him. "Oh, apologies. I have somewhere to be; I did not mean to be rude." He pointed back the way he'd come. "The village is that way."

"I am not looking for the village," the coyote countered, still smiling broadly as he stared up at Sera's surprised features. "I pledge myself to your service, noble Serevokin. I live to serve, until my debt is repaid."

The draconic's jaw worked back and forth as he regarded his new charge with a rapidly deepening frown. Was he serious? "Flattered as I am, that is unnecessary. My journey is long and dangerous, and I have no need for assistance while on it." He tried a smile. "You have a long life ahead of you. Rejoice, and live for yourself. Go now to safety, and if you must honour me in some way, live well for me."

He waited a moment, and then another... and then another, to see if the coyote would take the hint. When the other male simply cocked his head to the side and appeared confused, Sera heaved a sigh. "You cannot come with me," he finally said, mustering the most authoritative voice he could as he started along the road again. "Retract your debt."

"Why?" The coyote's head cocked to the other side as one ear flattened back. "If your journey is dangerous, why can't I come with? I can help. I could cook! Clean!" His eyes drifted down Sera's body. "I could serve your pleasures."

At that, Sera froze in place. He whirled back around and thrust a finger out at the startled canine. "The journey takes us past Cultist territory, so no. A Serevokin could blend in with them, but you could not. I hunt what food I need myself, and prepare it in my own way. I have little that needs cleaning." His black eyes narrowed. "And I will not take to breeding one of the Cult's former hashrah. No offense, of course, but..."

"You do not think me pleasing enough?" the canine asked, and both ears drooped slightly as he took a little step back from Sera. "I'm sorry to have offended you, master Serevokin."

Frustration twisted Sera's face into a dark scowl for a moment. Was this little dog deliberately misinterpreting his words, or was he perhaps this stupid? The scowl and the unfinished insults in his head both drained away as he looked over the crestfallen male. He remembered what the Cultist had said all at once - that he had escaped just after birthing, when control over one who had been dominated was lifted - and immediately kicked himself mentally. The poor thing hadn't lived in any other way for so long. Service was all he knew.

And if Sera were to just let him wander back to the town, he would probably just find the nearest Serevokin and pledge himself to him instead. Scruples of the master aside, Sera sighed and hung his own head. "No... you are pleasing indeed," he managed. "Very well. You may accompany me... at least this way I may keep an eye on you. But you will not be bred. On that, you have my word."

The lift of the coyote's head brought an almost disappointed look to his face for a moment, before it was replaced by a warm, delighted little smile. "I may serve?" he tentatively asked.

A slow nod from Sera spread the coyote's grin all the wider. He all but beamed as Sera looked him over. "I am Kolseratil. Call me Sera, if you absolutely must. Do you have a name?"

"Rael was the name given to me by the Serevokin that birthed me," replied the canine, as his tail wagged eagerly behind him. "Thank you! Thank you! I will serve as best I can, until you have no further need for me."

With another nod, Sera turned and stared back up the road again. The coyote fell into step just behind and beside him, and glanced up to look at the horizon beyond the hill. "Where are we going, anyway?" Rael asked.

Even as Sera rolled his eyes and lamented the loss of the quiet journey he had enjoyed, he set his jaw. If the little canine was going to help him, then it would do for him to know what he was getting himself into. "I seek the Bastion of Revo," was the simple reply. It would be a miracle if the coyote even knew what he was-

"Oh, we're going the wrong way," muttered the canine, as he paused in the road.

Sera froze in his own tracks, his brow furrowed as he turned to regard the coyote. "What do you mean?"

Rael blinked up at him, his head cocked once more to the side. "Your people call it the Bastion of Revo. But the Cult of Rolkotarni found it years ago! They all know where it is! My old master spoke of it often!" His head tilted to the other side as his tail wagged slowly. "Your Alliance never knew?"

"The Cultists we have captured have neglected to mention it to us." Sera stroked his chin as he regarded the canine before him. The vision was still tugging him down the road, toward the Cultist settlements If the coyote knew an alternate route... "Tell me. How do they describe it?"

It was the coyote's turn to frown. His gaze dipped to the road as his brow furrowed. "I... I don't remember. They didn't talk about it like they wanted me to know. I was just there to be bred, over and over." Rael paused for a moment and shrugged. "They said it was like... light. Walls of light and crystal and metal, cold to the touch. They thought it had to have been a gift from the gods. A sign that the Serevokin were designed to rule the world."

"Fanciful tales spun to enhance their rhetoric," Sera countered as he glanced up at the horizon. "Still... cold light? Whether it be firelight, sunlight or arcane illumination, all light produces heat. This cold light could be something else. More of the Bastion's power. Which direction did you say it would be in?"

The coyote pointed not directly back west the way Sera had come, but instead down to the south. "It's not far. Hidden by caverns and a waterfall... it's why no one ever found it." He hugged himself around his middle and glanced away. "You don't believe me."

Sera just shook his head as he turned toward the plains to the south. "I study those forces that shape the world around us. I am skeptical by nature, Rael. I try not to believe in the forces I cannot observe. Yet here I am, tugged by visions and mythology toward a place I am not even certain exists." He gave the coyote a thin little smile. "It is not that I disbelieve you. I disbelieve many things."

As Rael's head fell low, Sera patted him on the shoulder. "However, I do believe you speak of something beyond what you even understand. The vision I saw that led me here showed me waterfalls, caverns... it is possible that the vision would lead me on a longer journey, and that you have the means to provide me a welcome shortcut."

Suddenly filled with pride again, Rael grinned wide and began to bound off the road in the direction he'd pointed. "Then let me show you where it is!" he called back, as he excitedly dashed off.

Sera opened his muzzle to shout back at him to wait, to stop and to slow down and to be careful, but the words died in his throat and were reincarnated as a deep sigh. "So much like Karyn... You young things will be the death of me, I swear," he muttered. The draconic squeezed tight at his walking staff as he started off after the coyote. After all, the little canine was just liable to get himself into more trouble if he didn't hurry.

The dreams came again that night.

It was all so lucid, as they had been every night since they'd begun. No mere slave to the playing of his unconscious mind, Sera found himself walking into the town square where he had bred Karyn. The mirrors he had carried were nowhere to be found. Nor were the other Serevokin who had been cajoled into assisting with the experiment.

There though, unlike every other night that the dreams had struck in, Karyn was already waiting for him. It was always interesting to Sera to see what state the feline was in; it changed nightly. Some nights he was the same slinky tiger that had been so enraptured by the thought of bearing a Serevokin life. Others were him in varying stages of his pregnancy, all swollen large with that which Sera had created within him.

That night though, it looked as though it was to feature the Karyn he had first me. Wide-eyed and young and absolutely dedicated to the Serevokin Alliance - and to Sera's naked body, though the feline had thought himself clever enough to hide his longing - this Karyn was a new sight in the dreams. He smiled broadly as he stood tall in the town square, as if waiting just for Sera. "Well, the hard work hasn't really started yet, has it?"

The feline's muzzle didn't move, but Sera heard the words as if they had been spoken. That eager little smile on the tiger's face didn't waver in the slightest, as he turned himself around and snaked his tail up into the air. Sera felt his body - or at least the subconscious manifestation of his body - react to the sight of the bared Karyn. Since the breeding, the alchemist had felt the breeding urge more strongly than ever before. Perhaps taking Karyn had opened him up to that instinctual desire more than he'd wanted.

Regardless, the dream state was the perfect place to allow those desires to run rampant. Unconcerned with the prospect of hurting Karyn, Sera stepped forward and gripped tightly at the smaller tiger's hips. Claws scraped through fur and pricked flesh as that tapered, ridged draconic shaft pressed eagerly out of Sera's genital slit, kissed by a cool breeze that rang through him clearly even through the dream.

Karyn didn't yip as he was pulled back. He didn't cry out in pain when Sera rammed the full length of his shaft into the feline's tight backside. He barely moved in fact; the smile on his face stretched as obscenely as his tailring did as his imaginary body struggled to contain the full length of Sera's malehood. Sera's growl was entirely audible, a bass rumble that seemed to shake the entirety of his sleeping mind's reality.

Eyes squeezed shut as muscles squeezed his shaft. He ground up against the heat of the imaginary-Karyn's body, felt the memory of that fuzzy backside working back against him. Muscle twitches sent sparks of pleasure through Sera, urging him to spill his pre-seed up into the tiger. A tease a little more; barely a promise of what was still to come. Inner muscles grew slick under the pulse of pre, and Sera's growl deepened.

When his eyes opened though, Karyn was gone. The figure that whined and groaned and pressed back against his invading malehood was instead Rael. The coyote's paws squeezed tightly at his rump, his cheeks spread wide as he pushed himself down into Sera's lap. The draconic felt a moment's surprise; no longer on his feet, Sera was on his back in a grassy field with the canine over him, bucking eagerly down along his length.

A moment's hesitation was all Sera was allowed to feel. His gaze met the coyote's as the latter's tongue hung out in a lazy canine grin. He squeezed down tight - tighter even than Karyn had been - and Sera moaned heavily as he felt himself arch his back in an effort to slide still more of himself into those begging depths. He had already given everything that he had though, and so the draconic was forced to settle for grinding against those spread cheeks while the coyote dictated the pace.

It was not the Serevokin way to be dominated. It was not the Serevokin way to have their control taken away from them. But in the grass with Rael lifting up and slamming down along his ridged length, Sera was not in a position to complain. Content with the dream for the moment and unwilling to allow himself another moment to let the scene change on him, he squeezed tight at Rael's hips and started to help the coyote move along his malehood.

Musk swirled and danced through the air, an invisible river that traced between bodies. Sera could make out his own scent easily enough, but the raw strength of Rael's was almost as intoxicating. The rest of the field grew fuzzy around Sera as his claws dug into Rael's hips, and the coyote countered by shoving his paws both down on the Serevokin's chest to brace himself.

Then he began to move in earnest. He rose up until all but Sera's tip had been pulled free of his tight passage, and then in the same smooth motion rammed himself back down again. Ridges tugged and pulled on his tailring and ground against his prostate each time he moved, and they flared as the obviously practiced coyote worked himself right down to the hilt around that thick length of flesh.

Each pulse of the Serevokin's pre drew a deep, guttural, lustful moan from Rael's muzzle. His whole body shuddered with the effort of milking so hard at Sera's shaft, but unlike Karyn every little twitch and motion was reflected in his expression. The coyote-apparition's muzzle hung open, tongue slack as it bounced over and over between his lips. His fingers clutched at Sera's chest and his shoulders, desperate for leverage to better slide the Serevokin's malehood inside him.

The air grew heavy with the scent of their rut, and more and more of Sera's senses grew clouded by the act that ruled his dream. He took that scent in an allowed it to drive his hips, pistoning his malehood up into the whimpering form of the canine in his lap. He bucked up hard enough to push Rael up and almost completely off his length, only to grunt as the coyote gasped and shoved back down to swallow Sera's shaft up anew. Each of Sera's ridges flared, tugging at the canine's tailring and spreading his hole wider and looser. No matter how hard he thrust up into his companion though, the dream-coyote continued to milk at his shaft as snugly as he had when the dream had manifested him.

Eyes fluttered open as Sera's back arched, unaware of when he'd closed them. He caught sight of the stars in the sky above, framed by the trees they'd made camp beside. Rael's moans echoed all around, the canine's paw bouncing against Sera's belly as it rapidly worked over his knotted shaft. His pre splattered across the Serevokin's chest, and one spurt even managed to drool over Sera's muzzle as he squeezed tighter at those furry hips and rammed himself up with renewed vigour.

The result was an instant gasp from the canine. He squirmed hard in Sera's grasp, his hips rolling again and again as he forced himself to grind down into the draconic's lap. Sera could hear his pants grow sharper, and he knew all at once that the coyote's pleasure was on the verge of spilling over. That was fine, the lucid part of his mind reasoned. It was his dream. He knew that the coyote wouldn't blow until he was done with him.

The way Rael's body clamped down all of a sudden didn't do anything to change his mind. All it did was bring Sera right to the very edge of his own control, as he felt the pulses of his pre choke off as the promise of something more teetered on the brink of no longer being mere possibility. The first spurt of the canine's load as it splattered against Sera's face was the point when he knew something was wrong. It was the trees above his head that gave him a moment's lucidity, as his mind woke up entirely. The dream had been on a plain. The trees were at camp. He was at camp.

He was awake, buried to the hilt in a coyote squeezing so hard at his shaft he couldn't pull out even if he wanted to, and he was about to cum.

Sera's eyes widened, but it was too late to say or do anything. His body betrayed his conscious mind in a manner he never would have expected. His hands squeezed tighter at Rael's hips, claws extending just enough to break flesh and dig in. So lost in his own pleasure was he that the coyote didn't even notice, and Sera was too far gone to care. He wrenched Rael down into his lap as his hips rose to ensure that every inch of his ridged length was sheathed within the heat of the coyote's impossibility-needful body.

Then Sera felt his shaft erupt with his seed, and vision failed him entirely. There was no sight of the coyote's body filled with his young as that potent, nature-defying Serevokin seed was planted in his innermost reaches. There was no teasing glance at the child that was being formed even in those first few blissful, climactic moments. There was nothing but searing hot pleasure and a sudden, overpowering insistence. A tug, a pull on his entire self, commanding him to empty every last drop of his thick seed into that fertile body atop him.

And more besides. Each squeeze of Rael's body milked another shot of that hot, slick cream into him. Each pulse flared the ridges of his malehood. And it all went unnoticed and uncared for by Sera, as each heartbeat brought a flash of awareness before his mind. A metal door, a gelatinous sleeve, pinpricks, light, heat, sharpness cold explosionsrupturesgalesimpact-

Sera gasped as he felt himself milked dry, and the whole of reality finally started to fade back into his awareness. First was the breeze, cool in the trees as it rippled their branches and washed down over both lust-heated bodies. Second was Rael, as the coyote ground down against Sera with a malehood that continued to leak and drool the remainder of his load even after he'd soaked Sera from chin to stomach.

And finally was Sera himself, as he felt the canine's body shift atop him and around his shaft. The sensation sent a spike of uncomfortable pleasure through him, and his ridges flared once to spill another little bit of his seed into the thoroughly bred coyote. He pulled his hands off Rael's hips, and instantly regretted the speed of the motion as his claws came free slick with the coyote's blood. Rael's cry of pain vanished into the night as he arched his back, but the canine's body clenched down tighter around the seed that pooled deep inside him and the length of flesh that had delivered it so deep.

It was the work of only a moment more for Sera to sit up and quickly push Rael off his lap. The coyote cried out again, more in surprise and confusion than pain as he fell off the scaled body he'd ridden. Sera's shaft slipped free of his backside, and the grass was soaked in a small amount of the fluids that the Serevokin had pumped up into Rael. "By all the gods that ever were, what are you doing?" he demanded, as he pushed himself awkwardly to his feet.

Rael cringed silently down beneath him and curled himself immediately into a tight little ball. No more of the Serevokin's seed leaked out from his backside; Sera was able to watch that little ring of muscle tighten up in an instinctive desire to keep everything it could inside. "I told you that I would not breed you, you fool! This journey could take many months! The road is no place to birth or raise a child!"

"I-It won't take that long!" Rael managed to stammer out as he hugged his balled-up self tight. "I told you! We're on the way now... we'll be there in a week!" He whimpered as Sera continued to glare down at him. "I w-wanted to show you... to l-let you know I'm y-yours..."

While the anger continued to rage in Sera's heart, he allowed his face to soften as much as it could. He crouched down slowly until he was almost level with the smaller canine's form. "You are not mine, Rael. You belong to no-one. You are a free soul. Your life and your body are yours, and is not for anyone else to take. Not even me." His eyes narrowed as he watched the canine gulp with fear. "Do you understand?"

The coyote nodded, but Sera had to wonder just how much he really did understand. He was young, of course. He could have been born in the Cult's society. It would be almost impossible to break the indoctrination that the Cultists no doubt put him through. "If nothing else, the... the damage is done. You now bear another Serevokin life within you."

Rael uncurled slightly to stoke at his belly, before he wound himself tightly back up again. "Did you... did you see him?"

"I did not have to," Sera replied as he sat himself down. Despite his anger, his malehood hadn't even begun to retract within his genital slit. The scent of his own musk mingled with that of the well-bred coyote, and it was enough to keep him more than mildly excited. "The vision was altered... again. Curious. I believe that it is drawing me closer to the Bastion."

"Did you see what I told you about?" Rael excitedly asked as he sat up. He cringed back again immediately and kept himself lower than Sera's head, but he looked up with a glint in his eye. "Did you feel the cold light?"

But Sera just shook his head slowly. "I felt nothing much besides you," he admitted. "I saw more of the Bastion than I did before, though. And something else. Visions of the future, perhaps... or the past. Memories not my own. I must sleep on this." His glare sharpened again as he turned his eyes back on Rael. "And this time, without you awakening me with your lusts."

Rael nodded again quickly as he curled up against Sera's side. The draconic sighed and shook his head as he stared up into the stars. Perhaps the coyote had been right about the Bastion. Perhaps the Cultists had found it after all, but had been unable to breach its gates. Perhaps the little Virillo coyote had been right, and he could actually lead him to the Bastion faster than he'd anticipated. Maybe the journey of months was actually possible in a matter of weeks.

Eyes dropped to the dozing coyote's body, already having slipped off into a - presumably exhausted - sleep. They fixed on his belly, and Sera tried to imagine how it would swell in even but a single week. This quest, foolish or not, had already become more difficult than he'd wanted it to be. The last thing it needed was a baby Serevokin underfoot to make things more complicated still.

Sera felt the pull of his vision again as he closed his eyes; stronger than before, more insistent, and closer.

Much closer.