From my Patreon! But also from my Discord. Sometimes I ask patrons for random ideas when I’m bored and I need a change of pace. So, this is one of the stories that came out of that! You can find my page at: https://www.patreon.com/markgraham Cool things: 1. The CYOA continues – I just posted the third part!

2. I have about 13 or 14 stories posted on the Patreon but nowhere else. I have a lot of dog girl stories, a lesbian donkey TF and more! Including The Gift chapter 2 and OFFICE BITCH CHAPTER 3!!

3. I ask for polls and feedback and sometimes your input directs my writing. You also can watch me write live sometimes!

The small crowd of nobles fell silent as the princess lifted the small spoon from the array of silverware arranged before her. A large egg sat atop a golden filigree bowl lined with gems. She tapped the apex of the egg three times until it cracked. With careful, slim fingers she peeled the shell fragments away. The boiled egg within was black with lines of red. She hesitated, sniffing gently.

It was her eighteenth name day and her wish was for a dragon’s egg. The princess ranted and raved when her father, the king, begged her to reconsider. For the cost to acquire such a rare item was mortally high. Yet she persisted and the king caved. He lost fourteen of his bravest knights until the last of them returned with the prize: the sole surviving egg from a dragon’s clutch.

She set her spoon down and lifted a slightly larger one. Everyone held their breath while she scooped the top from the egg. She lifted it to her mouth, paused, sniffed once more and then consumed it.

“It’s quite delicious,” she declared haughtily as wisps of smoke rose from her delicate nostrils. She leaned forward, eagerly now and ate another scoop, lifting her head back to swallow the prize noisily.

To the astonished gasp of the crowd before her, the young princess rose and shoved her face into the top of the egg. Driven by avarice and a growing hunger, she crunched and chewed and slurped.

Jet black spikes emerged in a wave down the princess’s spine, starting from the back of her neck. She hissed, looking up at the crowd with eyes turning to slitted molten gold. The young girl flexed her growing body and her spines raised, slicing the lace and silk of her grown. It fell to the floor around her, leaving her exposed but for the remnants covering her modest chest.

With a screech, she leaned forward, straining her growing body with her legs spread. Head against the table, her tongue flicked out once, twice and then split into a fork that tasted the air. Jagged teeth grew from her gums.

Light began to reflect from her body, painting the panicking crowd with bright pinpricks of iridescence. The princess seemed to shift and glow while soft, wet scales slid forth from her skin. The scales hardened in the air and more formed continuously as she grew. The table groaned to contain her bulk.

Soft pink scales lined her stomach, darkening to blood red along her sides and, finally, black around her spiked spine. She raised her head to the ceiling as if to beg for God’s forgiveness but her jaw flowed forward and a jet of pure red flame issued forth, melting the stone ceiling. The flame seemed to burn her lips, cracking them and leaving them as dark as coal.

The table, no longer able to hold her weight, cracked, dropping her to the ground. She fell to all fours like an animal with her bulging thighs and arms holding her body aloft.

She roared again, deafening those around her while jets of flame incinerated those too slow to leave. She felt nothing as she twisted her scaly body to burn the queen and king. Their ashen outlines lay briefly against their thrones until the centuries old metal and marbel turned to slag.

Still she continued to grow until the throne room itself felt like a cage. She trembled and groaned and the very stones groaned with her.

A small, slick black spike speared her lower back when it pushed forth from her body. It seemed to pull her hide with it until a thick lump formed. The hardened scales covering her back scraped together to allow the growth of her tail. She spread her thick legs and a slit formed between them. Clear liquid seeped from her virginal sex.

The princess dug at her back and her deadly claws struck sparks. She grabbed her tail and pulled, moaning as she encouraged it to form. It grew with a low, unnatural groaning sound as if the dead from the crypts below the castle were waking. Flesh and muscle formed beneath pink skin that quickly vanished behind her shining new scales. It thickened in her grasp until even her huge hands could no longer encircle it. She felt it thrash as it grew and it crashed against the floor beneath her, flinging fractured stone and wooden splinters into the wall.

Ichor oozed from her back. She flew into a rage, storming throughout the room as bone emerged from the bloody holes over her shoulder blades. The bones dragged forth thick leathery wings. The princess stood on her hind legs and her fledgling wings flapped wetly behind her.

With a hiss of irritation, she wrapped her wings around her body, inhaled and then breathed fire against herself. Her cry pierced the air and she snapped her wings back and spread them, blotting out the sun above.

Her blackened nostrils flared as her snake-like eyes widened. She lowered herself on powerful legs and leapt. Dust, ashes and debris filled the air in a torrent below her as she took flight.

Food was plentiful in the kingdom – soft and pink and full of blood. She would make a nest nearby and then find a mate. For she felt a need within to breed and birth a clutch of her own eggs.