This is Berk, but it isn’t precisely the Berk that you may know. While that one might be a place where the Vikings here took one path, it is but one of many in the grand scheme of things in the multiverse.
One simple change can lead to vast differences. Take, for instance, the introduction of magic to this world. What would change? Less than you think, but more than you could imagine.
Take Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, 18 years old, with two feet and no note of fame. Despite this seemingly innocuous change, things will take a similar yet different path.
Despite how much more pathetic he seems, our Hiccup follows a similar path to another you may be familiar with, to the point where his accomplishments in dragon slaying training earn him the ire of his peers.
—-
Astrid Hofferson has joined her fellow trainees in learning the ways of dragon slaying. After all, it is their birthright.
When Hiccup subdues many a foul beast with seemingly a wave of his hand, the fury burns deep in Astrid’s breast, and she resolves to find precisely what the young man’s secret is.
So, she goes to the forest, following him with as much subterfuge as she can muster, clinging to the trees, and using the hunting techniques she had to learn to survive in these times of famine. She soon finds herself in a hidden valley, a bowl with a gentle pond.
“There you go, Toothless,” rings out Hiccup’s voice. “This new harness should do just the trick.”
The Viking woman peers from behind a rock, looking at the scene before her and gasping. Before her is Hiccup, and he’s communicating with… what is that? It’s not like any dragon she’s ever seen before. Could it be…?”
“Nightfury…?” she breathes, returning to face the scene before them.
“Come on, Toothless,” the young man says, patting the dragon on the head and giving him the scratches he loves. Little does the Viking male know that while he gives his newfound friend some comforting pets, something peeks out between the creature’s rear legs. It is long red, and it throbs.
Astrid clasps her mouth and brings her axe flat against her chest. Tears burn in her eyes as hateful bile rises up, fighting against the urge to vomit right then and there. She turns and runs, leaving the two alone.
Hiccup blinks and looks towards the edge of the rocky valley, stepping over towards the edge. “Hello?”
Toothless groans and flaps off to its own, curling up with its engorged dragonhood, grumbling.
“Hey, Toothless, what’s the matter?” asks Hiccup, running back towards his draconic companion.
—
“I don’t know what it is I saw, w-what he was doing, I just… I can’t…” Astrid sighs, placing the book of dragons in front of Gothi. “It’s not in the book. I’ve looked everywhere! A-and that thing… it had… it was a cock, and Hiccup was petting it and, ugh!”
Gothi listens to Astrid’s woes and turns the book's pages, her eyes narrowing before she slides it back toward Astrid.
“A… nightfury? That’s… that’s even more dangerous than I could imagine.”
Gothi shakes her head and hobbles over toward one of her many books. She pulls one from the shelf and hands it to Astrid, turning to a particular page.
Astrid scand over it, her eyes widening. “This potion… this is magic—dark magic. Do you mean to tell me this is real? But why would we know how to do this? Why are you showing this to me?”
Gothi turns the page again and taps the words written there in a fresher yet still faded ink.
Reading from the text, Astrid speaks, “The medicine woman has to bear this secret and forbidden knowledge, for the time might come for when it is necessary.”
Astrid slams the book closed. “I wish to be a dragon slayer, not a medicine woman, but I will do what I must for the good of my people.”
Gothi smiles and hobbles beside Astrid, examining the materials and recipes before her.
“And if I can get this spell to work,” Astrid whispers to herself, her fingers running along the ancient runes, “then I can become the greatest dragon slayer in all of Berk and finally rid our tribe of that useless Hiccup once and for all!”
“But what of the chief?”
Gothi pats her shoulder and hands her a small bottle. Astrid closes her fingers around it. “You’re right. I shouldn’t worry about that. What I need to worry about is getting this potion ready. The moon is full, and I have mushrooms to collect.
As Astrid leaves the room, Gothi smiles, for as we’ve said earlier, magic changes so much, even if it looks so similar to what we already know. Soon, Astrid has her potion brewed, and she clasps it gently in her hand as she and her fellow trainees celebrate another successful day of Hiccup and his ridiculous dragon-pacifying ways.
“So, Gobber, are you sure no one’s tried that before?” Hiccup asks.
“No, lad. It would be a waste of yer time! Focus on the fundamentals, and you should be golden!”
Everyone is so busy they don’t notice Astrid pouring the potion into Hiccup’s mug. The chieftain’s son swigs his drink down and smacks his lips, stretching and hopping. “Well, everyone, gotta go! See you all tomorrow!”
With a resounding cheer from his fellows, Hiccup leaves, and Astrid sinks back into the obscurity of this story, her part played, and Hiccup’s only just beginning…
Hiccup rushes past the outskirts of Berk, finding his way to the fish market, where he gathers up as much of the unprocessed catch as he can to feed Toothless but also not to be any suspicious. As he carries his bucket into the wilderness, the man sniffs the air around him. “Hm… wonder what that is?” he wonders before shrugging and heading to his hidden valley.
Back home, Astrid reads over the pages of the spellbook, her fingers tracing the runes. “The first effects will be with the soul. It changes their mind and aura. The spell can be reversed now, but only if the target knows what it is and what to do about it.”
“We’ll see what you think about this, you dragon-fucking traitor,” she huffs, slamming the book shut.
—
“Toothless! Hey, I got you your favorite! Just… all the fish,” he says, kicking over the barrel, letting the food spill out in its briny mess on the ground.
The night fury hops onto an outcropping, his head down low. A growl reverberates around his lips as he crawls close, sniffing the air.
“What’s the matter?” Hiccup asks, a hand on his hip. Something smells funky to you? There’s no smoked eel in here,” he pauses, scratching his chin, scrutinizing the mound of fish. “At least, I don’t think there is.”
The Viking bends over to examine, tossing bits here and there, and looks over the pile for evidence of the dragon’s most hated food.
He mumbles to himself, not noticing that the night fury was slowly crawling up to him, sniffing the air, stepping low to the ground, and seeing Hiccup with his ass up high on his knees, wading through the fish.
And then Toothless pounces, knocking into Hiccup, causing the two to roll and tumble about, with the Viking on his back and the dragon pinning him down by his shoulders.
“T-Toothless, what are you doing?” Hiccup says, reaching up to scratch under the dragon’s jaw, but the night fury tilts back, lifts himself up, and keeps the human hand off him.
That’s when Hiccup gets a full view of the dragon’s underbelly. Despite being such a sleek and aerodynamic creature, How Toothless is powerful and muscular. Those arms that hold him down. The chest that presses those arms, the core that keeps the dragon balanced, and beneath that…
“Ah, Odin’s eye, what’s that!?” Hiccup gasps, seeing between the dragon’s hind legs a giant, thick, twitching cock, bright in color in sharp contrast to the rest of his inky black body. It’s fully erect, glistening at the tip with its predatory and penile passion.
“No, Toothless, whatever this is, this isn’t you!” the Viking says, gritting his teeth. For the first time in Hiccup’s life, he feels the preservation kick in, and he reaches beyond all reason, shuffling his hand into his pocket and tossing up a wad of the grasses that the dragons love.
Toothless’s eyes dilate, and he immediately lets go of Hiccup, rolling around in the scant sprigs of grass, but that won’t hold him for long. Hiccup summons up all his courage and rushes up to the dragon, hopping on his back and scratching over his head.
The dragon grunts and rolls around, pinning the human with sheer weight. However, Hiccup continues to fight against the dragon's desire, scratching and rubbing Toothless’s cheek and chin until, finally, the dragon flops over, wholly incapacitated.
It takes Hiccup a minute to scurry out from underneath of Toothless. He wipes his brow, having built up quite the sweat in the ensuing battle. He glances at the downed dragon, looking over that body, once so tense, now so peaceful in its stupor—save for one thing.
That long, hard cock rises up high in the air, twitching in the subtle breeze. “Damn my curiosity,” Hiccup says to himself, stepping up closer, leaning in and scrutinizing it. “I wonder if something smells like a female dragon to you,” Hiccup says. He stands up, patting himself down. He’s not wearing anything different. Was it something from the arena? Some of the fish?
He bites his lip, looking at Toothless's serene face on the ground before him. “Whatever this is, I’m going to have to be careful from now on,” he says, picking up his things and heading out of the valley.
As he walks, Hiccup thinks about Utgar, one of his father’s brave warriors, who loved to get drunk and tell his tales to people.
“I tell you what, lads,” he would say to them, “there is nothing, and I mean nothing better than rollin’ around with a man who does the part of a woman. He’s all the fun and none of the complainin’! Har har har!”
The cheap jab at women aside, Hiccup has to ponder a moment. “I’ve always been different, “he says, “but why am I thinking about this now?”
Toothless’s muscled form and those intense eyes flash in his mind.
“No, no, no!” He shouts, clutching his head. “I can’t think this way. Toothless is a dragon,… a beast. A magnificent beast, but a beast! That’s just–.”
“Come back.”
Hiccup freezes. The voice is groggy slow, but husky. Slowly, Hiccup turns around, seeing the dragon roll over onto his stomach. His eyes are wide, pleading, desperate.
“Come back… please…”
Hearing those words, Hiccup rushes back through the woods, panting, holding back a scream.
He must be losing his mind!
But why? Why? Why?
Back in his bed, he collapses, covering his head with his pillow. He is sweating heavily and chilled to the bone.
A fever? Yes, that must be it. He must be sick!
These are hallucinations, nothing more!”
—
“If the victim doesn’t take an antidote in a few hours, the first changes will occur, and the process shall become irreversible.”
Astrid grumbles. “Serves him right… the filthy traitor.”
—-
Hiccup stumbles his way back to the house of Stoic, the chieftain, and his father. The journey from Toothless’s den has left the Viking reeling and his head throbbing. He falls against the door, panting, clinging to the great wooden thing. The rain that pours down over Berk comes as an ill omen that serves not only to unnerve him but to disorient him further. He shudders, feeling a churning in his stomach. He finds the strength to get to his boots and throw the massive doors open, collapsing onto the wood floor and curling up on the ground.
“Come back… please…”
Those cursed words reverberate through Hiccup’s mind. He had understood them, but he didn’t know how. They came not in any language the Viking had heard in his short life, and they came from the grumbling throat of the Nightfury.
Is it possible he’s finally heard evidence that the dragon, or maybe just the Nightfury himself, can communicate with humans?
Or is something happening to Hiccup. And if so, what?
There's no time for speculation as the chill wraps around his body. He stumbles over to the fireplace and sets some logs in, his muscles weak and stinging, as if he had just gone through the most strenuous exercise, but it was a simple task.
Perhaps he is just getting sick, and all of this is some delirium that will soon pass? He plops himself down on the ground before the glow of the fire, letting himself rest, allowing the coziness to warm him up, safe from the mysteries of the world beyond his home.
Sleep may do him good in easing his aching body and reeling mind.
A sudden shock courses through him, burning up through his body. He clenches his chest, his shirt feeling so tight and clingy. Is it the heaviness of the rain? Is it something else? Whatever it is, he is compelled to rip it off, peeling the thing off of him and revealing to the fire his hairless toothpick of a body. He looks at himself on a nearby reflective shield and shakes his head. “Look at me,” he grumbles, messing with his pants. “I’m so weak and pathetic. Who am I kidding? I think I could do something good for everyone.”
He mulls over some more things as he works off his boots. “I should have just stuck to what I was good at, which is nothing,” he grumbles, pulling his boot off with odd ease. He blinks and looks over it and then wiggles his toes. “Weird…”
He kicks his opposite heel against the ground, and his boot slips off, free and dainty.
He lifts a boot in one hand and strokes at his chin with the other. The fledgling hint at a beard is often itchy, but not usually like this. “I wonder why the rain seems to have made my boot so loose? This could have interesting applications.”
He mulls this over as the smooth chin no longer itches but lowers down on his chest. The itch continues. Absently, he moves downward over his body, so smooth, almost silky.
“Just another mystery, I guess, having to figure out this whole talking dragon thing. Maybe in the book, there’s something abou-aah!”
He drops the boot and holds his hands over his chest, his voice coming out higher pitched than before. He coughs and rubs his throat. “Aaah…. Aaah… aaaoooh.” He deepens his voice, but it flicks back up to that gently higher register for some reason. “Oh, by Odin’s eye, I might be sick,” he says, sniffling, but he looks down over his chest.
He had always been out-of-shape, and sometimes the fat rested in his chest, but now the lumps over his thin form are heavier than ever.
He traces one side with a finger and cups the other with his other hand. His breath quickens, getting higher and lighter, catching in his throat. He must really be going mad, or else it seems that he actually has tits!
Contemplating this, he runs his hand through his hair, his fingers weaving through straight and long locks, slowly combing, combing, and combing, moving down along the long streaks that go down to his shoulders.
He yelps, an arm crossed over his chest and the other gripping the long locks. He turns toward the shield and stares at its reflection.
The person looking back at him is at once familiar and completely alien. It is an awkward-looking creature, to be sure, but much less a gangly man, but a woman not quite made entirely herself.
She shakes her head, letting go of her hair and shaking her head, slapping herself on the face. When she opens her eyes, they are covered by bangs, and she pulls them away to see the bright, wide orbs looking back at her, lashes fluttering and long.
“Yeaaaah!” He hops back, gasping, his voice now even higher than Astrids. She stumbles back.
With a sneeze, she rolls to her stomach, wiping her nose. But when she pokes at it, she finds it much smaller than before. She grasps her neck, crying out for help for anyone to come in and help her, but the only response she gets is Adam’s apple shrinking in her grasp.
“Nonononono!” she yelps, crawling along the floor. Her chest, no, her breasts, swell, dangling from her chest, scraping over the ground.
She falls on her elbows, cupping her chest, gasping as she feels those full things so sensitive in her grasp.
“W… what’s happening… to me?” She huffs, rolling onto her back. “Why does this feel so… so…. Ah…! Oh, gods!”
She can’t finish her thought as she gasps, feeling the strange pangs between her legs. Still, in her pants, she scrambles, working to undo the things as dainty fingers and long, sharp nails fail to work on the button that holds it up.
“Not that!” she screeches. “Anything but that!”
It was never impressive, at least by the standards the other Vikings had championed their manhoods as if they could cleave a beast in two. His would hardly satisfy a woman, he was sure. But now, it was getting smaller and smaller. As it shrinks down, she can’t help but grab hold of it, desperately wanting it to return to its modest glory, her hips up high, her heels digging into the floor, her hair splayed across the wood.
But it is to no avail. As soon as it retracts, it disappears into the folds of her pelvis, leaving behind a glistening moistness that makes her fingers tremble.
“G… gaaah?”
She pants, biting her lips, fingers curling inside, spreading those lips, yes, lips. Oooh by Thor’s hammer, this is what a woman’s pussy feels like?”
She rolls onto her knees, her cheek against the floor, her tiny but sensitive breasts pressing against the floor. Her body twitches, her pussy dripping over her fingers and down her thigh.
“W… what sorcery…?” she groans, closing her eyes and letting out a moan that echoes throughout the house. “How is this, mmghn… possible?”
She pushes two fingers into herself, panting, her eyes rolling back. It’s so frustrating, even if this transformation feels good. Even if now, she’s losing her mind and forgetting what it is like to have a cock in the new state she’s in, she knows that she can’t do anything about it. She can’t show herself to anyone in Berk. They wouldn’t trust some random stranger; even so, she knows all the men there. It would be so weird, so wrong to beg them when he knows them as a man.
And the women? What can women do to satiate his needs now? She hardly understood them as a man. He didn’t gain some magical understanding of them now.
No one in the village understands him or cares for him. He’s always been Hiccup, the screw-up, the failed Viking, and now, he’s Hiccup, the failed man.
She opens an eye, fingering herself faster now. “No, there’s someone… a man, a male, who appreciated her. A man who pinned her down. A male who displayed his arousal for her. A male who looked at her with primal, desirous eyes.
And as he imagined that tall red thing penetrating into her, she cries out his name as she cums, wetting the floor and collapsing onto it.
“Tooothleessssss!”
The next day sees the storm that rocked Berk subsiding, but there is still a light drizzle that permeates the air. A figure pokes her head out of Stoic’s longhouse, draped in a heavy cloak that the leader left behind on his latest voyage. The woman makes her way through the outskirts of the village, stumbling around in shoes far too big for her and panting heavily, the fear of the others finding her running through her mind, a scream of frustration caught in her throat.
As she rushes into the wilderness, Astrid, peeking out her window on a gloomy day, catches sight of her, and a smirk spreads over her face. “Serves you right,” she says.
Back at the hidden hole, Toothless curls up underneath a rocky outcropping. The dragon is restless and cold in the soggy weather. But as the sun finally peaks through the sky and the rain dries up, he yawns, stretches, and lumbers over towards the watering hole, where he laps a little water.
But something wafts through his nostrils, and he pauses, glancing slowly upward.
Something stood before him that smelled familiar and intoxicating. He lifted his head up, mesmerized by her presence.
“Toothless,” comes the voice, shaking and shuddering from the cold and the quickening beating of her heart. “You’re not going to attack me, are you?” she asks, licking her lips.
The dragon sits up, snorting. Finally, the nightfury lets out a low, guttural sound. “No…”
The woman steps forward. “I can understand you… You can talk?”
“I always could. You can, too?”
“You recognize me?” She asks, her eyes widening.
The dragon rises, sitting on his hind legs, his cock coming into view, sticking up, swelling, glistening with his intent. “Your scent,” he grumbles.
“Yeah, that…” the woman gulps, tightening the grip on Stoic’s cloak. “It’s pretty apparent, isn’t it?” She says this and lets go, letting the cloak fall off her shoulders, revealing to the dragon a side of the human he had never seen before. She has long hair, but her skin is pale, and she curves at her chest and thighs. “I guess this is what I am now, Toothless. Is it… what you like?”
The dragon pounces, knocking the woman that was Hiccup over, his cock pointed and dripping, drooling at her loins.
“Ha… ha… wuh-wait, Toothless!”
The dragon growls, leaning in over her face. “Why should I?”
“You’ll t-tear me apart. You’re too big!”
He snorts and stumbles away, groaning with his hips high in the air, his cock dangling down.
Hiccup crawls onto her knees. “Now, wait a moment,” she says, soothing him. She reaches up between his legs, her fingers brushing against the length of the shaft.
The dragon gasps, arching his back, spreading his wings, shuddering.
Hiccup giggles a little as she lounges on the grass, pressing her palm upon the red streak and stroking up and down. “Just because you can’t stick it inside doesn’t mean I can’t think of other things to do with it.”
The nightfury raises his head, huffing out in deep, labored breaths.
“What’s the matter?” She chuckles, scooting to her knees, letting go of him.
He spins around, furrowing his brow.
“Don’t worry. I’m not done,” she says, licking her lips and crawling under him.
Toothless blinks and looks around, pushing himself up, giving her room to crawl under him. He lowers his head, watching, but he can only get sight of her butt, and he groans heavily as the wafting of her womanhood invades his nostrils.
The woman cups a hand beneath the dragon's impressive shaft, lifting the tip with a free finger. “Oh, by all of Asgard, what I’m doing is wrong.” But he leans in, pressing his lips to the tip.
When he was younger, he had heard tales of ladies who would service lads like this and often found himself with a writing implement in his mouth when thinking. This now seems only natural, sliding a tongue up and down the dragon’s shaft, kissing along that heated meat. She wraps her lips around the side and suckles upon it, leaving it with little, peppery kisses.
All Hiccup ever wanted to be was a dragonslayer to prove his worth as a Viking. He thought learning from the dragons would help better his society and the understanding of the world around them and the creatures inhabiting it. But now, here she is doing something wholly unnatural and taking in a massive cock in her mouth. “Mmmgh…”
Feeling the lips wrap around his shaft, the night fury grunts, pushing his hips forward. The massive thing slides deeper into the woman’s mouth, widening her lips to the point of pain. She places her hands on his thighs, pushing against him and grunting.
He grunts back but pulls away, letting her lean forward and cough, rubbing her throat. “J… just sit back, Toothless. I got this.”
Toothless falls onto his rump, his tail curling up behind her, pulling her in.
Hiccup smiles up at him, a hand wrapped around his cock as she lowers her mouth around the shaft, her cheeks puffing out, her throat expanding slightly. She continues to take him, softly humming as she slips up and down, slathering that dragon dick with her spit and tasting on it the cum of the night fury.
Toothless’s tongue rolls out, and he huffs, soft grunts turning into mighty roars as his cock flares and pulses. Soon, he gasps out in a hiccup of delight as a piercing shock rushes through the sky. At the same time, he erupts, his cum bursting out from him, spitting out of her mouth and throat and sending Hiccup coughing and hacking, soon having her face covered in a glaze of dragon jizz.
It takes her a few moments to catch her breath and wipe her chin, but she keeps hold of his length and looks up to him. “Hey, Toothless...” she says, licking her lips. Let’s fly away from here,  you and me.”
The dragon leans in, nuzzling against her cheek and growling possessively, pulling her in.
She wonders at that moment if she has a choice.
And she decides she doesn’t care if she does!
When Astrid arrives at the small bowl where the traitor and his pet will convene, she finds the cloak left behind by the one who had been Hiccup. She sniffs the air and wretches. The stench of the dragon is pungent here, much more potent, more musky.
When she heads towards the source, she sees the congealed pool of dragon jizz, splattered on the ground, and she grumbles. “They’re gone. Finally, life can go back to normal,” she says, spitting and marching back to Berk.
“Come home soon, Stoic. On the next voyage, I shall join you!
—
The woman holds onto her dragon lover, her naked breasts pressed against the strong, scaled back as he flies through the air. It isn’t long until he finds a place for them, among the beaches and the various islands surrounding the Viking village, and he throws her off with a mighty buck.
She lands on the sandy ground upon her back, grunting but giggling, smiling up at him.
“Oh, you’re hungry for more, are ya?” she asks, licking her lips. “That’s okay with me because I want more, too!”
She gets onto her knees when Toothless tilts his head, grunting, leaning in, and sniffing at her head.
“Ah… q-quit it, what are you…?
There is something odd in the air or perhaps something strange within the woman herself. She feels almost like she’s wearing something that doesn’t quite fit her and is in a daze.
She snaps out of it when Toothless presses his warm, wet tongue upon her cheek. She sighs in delight, letting him groom her, rolling her shoulders, and getting onto all fours.
This feels more natural as if she was always meant to be beneath the dragon. He climbs beside her, pressing his tongue to her cheek and slicking his tongue upward in a long, laborious lick.
It feels so nice that he’s taking the world off her shoulders, but more than that, he licks off a large portion of her hair, leaving her head smooth where he touched it.
“W… what the?” She squeaks, grasping at her bald head. She crawls over toward the beach to peer at the damage.
Toothless gazes at her, waddling away. Her crawl grows from an awkward stumbling, and her balance wobbling this way and that as her bones crack and she gains more maneuverability. Soon, she’s bounding, landing in front of the water and staring at the reflection within.
The image is distorted by the clam waves and her reflection, but her teeth seem too big for her mouth, grinding and growing. She blinks, and the once-round pupils open to reveal bright, slitted, and curious things.
Without being able to articulate words, she stumbles back, her rump bumping right into Toothless’s face.
“Calm, female,” he urges her.
“C-calm? How can I be calm!” She reaches up, patting around her mouth. Now that she can talk, she finally feels the muzzle extend into a broad snout, accommodating her teeth.
The warm and wet tongue of the dragon presses itself between her legs, massaging her womanhood, lapping up and down her lips and her slit.
She falls on her cheek, panting, smiling. “A… ah well… I g… guess I can be… ah… calm…!
Toothless growls in his apparent agreement, pressing that thick thing against her, pushing it deep into her tight hole.
“Aah… it’s… t-o-hoo thick!” she groans, grasping the ground. Her fingers dig into the sand, grabbing large chunks of the soil. When she relaxes her grip, she grasps again, only to have claws extend from her fingertips. Her hands explode into powerful forms, tearing up the ground. The sand exfoliates dead skin off of them, revealing beneath them jet black scales.
She throws her head back as his tongue pushes inside of her, spreading her out, but she doesn’t contract around it. No, her womanhood grows around it, her rear expanding with it, her legs filling in, widening, strengthening, holding up the new expansion to her body. Opening her mouth wide, she roars a mighty and predatorial cry that echoes throughout the islands.
Birds screech and fly away in the vicinity of the sound. Her shoulders pop and poke as she maintains the call. Soon, she focuses on them, flexing and rolling. Feeling so tight there. It’s a tightness she wants to escape as she feels her muscles moving in ways they never had before. She flexes old and new, beating them free, realizing what this means!
And wings erupt from her former human skin, spreading wide towards the sky. Her cries become louder throughout the islands as her teeth recede into her gums, becoming more comfortable.
That’s when Toothless’s tongue brushes down deep enough, hitting her in a place about which she had only heard legends before. She raises her head, her eyes rolling back, and her mouth opens in a comical “oh!”
Looking over her shoulder, her bright blue eyes focus on the slender but powerful body before her. She lifts her hips high so Toothless can dine upon her delight. There may be but one thing missing. It desperately calls for it, even with Toothless’s head in the way.
She focuses on her body, down along her spine, huffing, chuffing, and grunting. Soon, though, her tail pops out from her rear, extended and majestic, striking Toothless and sending him falling back.
The nightfury shakes his head and watches with wide eyes as the tail fans out, slipping back and forth in the air in a majestic motion. Her wings and tail fire off new sensations in her brain as the wind catches them. The tail falls, patting Toothless’s head.
The dragon growls, climbing back to position, his wings wrapping around her as he continues to dine on dragon pussy, a hungry growl deep in his male heart, slurping away without a care in the world other than to make his female scream for him.
And who knows what else afterward?
She pushes herself up, looking down into the water, her eyes half-lidded, her mouth open, panting, grunting out in a voice that cannot make human words, shaking her head. She thrusts her hips back, pushing her body with her front legs, wrapping her lower legs against his head, forcing him in deeper.
Toothless growls, pushing back against her, standing his ground, though the two dragons shift about in the sand.
It is the female dragon who loses this little game as her walls constrict around that tongue, her eyes roll back, her tongue rolls out, and she screams in the pained delight of a new orgasmic sensation, inhuman and indescribable.
She collapses on the ground, chin on the waves, breathing slowly in and out through her nostrils and slowly letting go of the male nightfury.
He’s silent for a bit, waiting for her a moment, and she speaks. “Toothless…” she groans. “I don’t know… what happened… how I… became this, but…”
“Nothing,” he says, climbing atop her, leaning in, growling at her neck. “You thought to keep me as a pet before. Now, you are mine.” He says this, nipping at her shoulder with his teeth retracted, only to let them out and let her feel the puncture of their power. He saddles up before her, pressing that thick, red dragon cock up against her quivering dragon pussy.
“Oh… p-please… let me have your eggs!”
She doesn’t know why she said it, but she means it, pushing her hips up against him.
He places a foot on her head and pushes her back down, growling against her with another nip, this time harder than before, sending a delightful pain through her. “Only when I want it!”
As a newly transformed Nightfury, the female that had been Hiccup finds herself chin-deep on the sand, pinned down by the male, who breathes hot breath upon her neck. The dragon rubs his meaty cock against her, stroking along her slit, slipping up and down with little resistance.
Of course, there would be little because her desires are so insurmountable that they gush from her, readying her passageway for him. She groans, slightly getting the taste of salt in her mouth, but she doesn’t care for the water. She cares about the man above her.
Toothless chomps down on her neck, his gums clamping heavily upon her, and the female dragon growls, a low groan rising up from her clamped throat.
So, that’s what the retractable teeth are for? If he had extended them, surely he would have ripped through her scales. But like this, he can hold her down, pin her, and get her ready for him.
Were the females of his kind feisty? She thrashes underneath him, wiggling her rear, flicking her tail from side to side.
Toothless throws his weight onto her, sinking his cock deep inside her.
The female’s eyes roll back, and she gasps a broken croak as she finally feels what she has desired since her transformation. That meaty dragon cock was once too big for her pathetic human pussy. Now, it fits snugly within her, stretching her out just enough for her new hole to have all of its sensations tickled by that massive member.
But it isn’t just the cock that delights her. It is the foot upon her head pinning her down. It is the growling on her scales reverberating through her body. It is the mouth holding her neck and keeping her from thrashing. It is the strong, muscled form keeping her from escaping. Not only has Toothless claimed her, but he has proven it in his superiority.