Of Wives and Wyverns

Disclaimer: This story is a work of adult fiction that includes a lot of graphic sex and descriptions of a bizarre physical transformation. Please read away if you're of the proper age, but don't come crying to me if the subject matter flips your stomach in a bad way instead of a good one!

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I suppose the most appropriate place to start this story would be with the panic attack I had in my apartment's parking space. It was my 30th birthday, and I had made a big mistake.

I am of the firm opinion that people should get their 30th birthday off of work. Better yet, they should be restrained so that they don't bring harm to themselves or others, the same way we do with the criminally insane or werewolves on the full moon.

For those who have not yet had the pleasure, the big 3-0 is the day you realize you're running out of runway for fuckups. It's the day to assess the current state of your life and wonder how you 'ended up' this way. How did I end up less successful than all my friends? How did I end up coming home to this slum of an apartment complex? How did I end up trapped in a loving but utterly sexless marriage?

These were the exact questions that had been rattling around in my head all day, driving me mad. I had to do something to change my lot in life, and rash, impulsive decisions were made. Decisiveness had met impulsiveness, and I already regretted what I had done. Now it was time to march up to our apartment and break the news to my wife. Daydreams of my wife embracing me as the romance of our marriage was reignited gave way nightmares of her flipping out and holding me to task. After all, her thirtieth birthday had been just last week, and she hadn't made any big, irresponsible decisions.

I took a deep breath, steeled my nerves, and made my way to our front door.

"Honey! I'm ho- oh, hello."

Fiona was waiting inside. She was wearing leggings and a sports bra. The way her athletic wear lifted her breasts and accentuated her curves made it, in my opinion, one of her sexiest outfits. But it was odd that she should be wearing it at this hour, and there wasn't a drop of sweat on her.

"Welcome home, handsome!" she said cheerily, greeting me with a kiss on the lips. She handed me a glass of red wine, and before I could get a word out of my mouth, she lifted her own glass and made a toast.

"To Martin: my birthday boy and the love of my life."

I clinked my glass against hers and took a polite sip. Fiona took a much larger one.

"Thanks, love, that was very sweet," I said, nearly choking on my anxiety. "Listen, there's something I need to tell you."

She nodded and took my hand. "Here, let's sit together as you say it."

Fiona led me to the couch and sat close beside me so her hips and leg pressed against my own. The end table had been cleared to make room for a trio of flickering tea candles.

"Now, what was it that you wanted to tell me?"

I swallowed. It was time to come out with it.

"I bought us a vacation to the island provinces."

She furrowed her brow as she processed the information. "That's where we were going to take our honeymoon."

"The one we couldn't afford? Yes."

I braced myself for the coming storm, but it never came. Instead, Fiona raised her hand to her heart. "Martin! That's so romantic."

I shook my head. "We still can't afford it. Even if I could find a few more weddings that needed a photographer this month, you would have to pick up another three or four Boober rides each day. . ."

"We'll figure it out. Don't worry about it."

This was not right. I knew my wife. We had always been open with each other about our worries. It was one of the great strengths of our partnership. At the very least she should have shown some hesitation, some anxiety, but there was not a hint of worry in her eyes.

Shee laid her arm around my shoulder such that her breasts pressed against my arm. "Let's just focus on having a good time tonight."

"But-"

She silenced me with a kiss. This one was deep and intimate, and it caught me off-guard. We hadn't kissed like that in months. I caught a whiff of the perfume she'd worn on our wedding day. She broke the kiss and gazed at me with half-lidded eyes decorated with eyeliner. She never wore perfume or makeup.

She was trying to seduce me.

This was odd. Our love life was on the rocks. We hadn't been intimate in over a month, and neither one of us tried to initiate anymore. I would have thought it was a forced attempt at a birthday gift if not for the husk in her voice and the way she drew her breath through her lipsticked lips in rapid little gusts. She was genuinely horny. Somehow, that made her behavior even more unsettling. It was as if she'd been possessed by a succubus.

"Honey I'm not-" I started, but she interrupted me with another kiss. Her hand dropped to the crotch of my jeans and squeezed a pulse into my penis. The situation was ringing alarm bells in my mind, but I was still a man. I allowed my lips to mingle and return her romantic gesture. Soon our tongues began to play, and our hands slipped under each other's clothes for a chance to feel the touch of skin. Before long, touching transitioned into groping and fondling. She pushed down the front of my jeans and wrapped her slender fingers around my stiffening penis. I slid my hand between her bra and her breast and cupped its supple flesh.

She broke the kiss and stared at me with a look of desire so intense it was frightening. "Let's go to the bedroom."

"Yes," I whispered, and she pulled me to my feet only to embrace me once again. We stumbled toward the bedroom, awkwardly kissing and undressing each other as we went, catching our balance against the walls of the hallway. She skipped pulling off my shirt and went straight for my zipper, freeing my cock and fondling it as we went.

When we arrived, she slipped out of her pants in record speed and laid face-down, with her shapely ass raised high in the air. Her plump ass cheeks and thighs made a gorgeous frame for the delicate frills of her pussy. She was very attractive.

For a human.

What would I turn her into tonight? I stroked my dick absently as I approached her, and my imagination kicked into gear. Something reptilian would be nice. Something powerful. I pictured a thick, substantial tail sprouting above her heart-shaped ass, twitching as it grew long enough to obscure her privates, then curling upward and flopping forward, revealing her altered genitals. Her pussy was gone, replaced with a scaled, horizontal cloaca. It twitched in anticipation as her tail wagged back and forth over her head. \n\tFiona had no idea the fantasies I conjured when we made love. I kept my obsession with transformed girls locked deep in the depths of my own imagination. It might sound silly, considering how commonplace alchemical transformations were becoming in certain parts of the empire, but it comes down to the way I was raised. Every time I pictured coming clean, I felt sick with terror. And if I did tell my wife, what would she hear? That I didn't find her delicate, painstakingly maintained, wonderfully-proportioned human figure attractive? That I wanted her to change everything, her body, her lifestyle, her very role in society to satisfy my bizarre fetish?

No, I had accepted long ago that I couldn't muddle my relationships with my depravity. I was content keeping these fantasies private, doing what I was doing at that very moment: mentally changing my partner's body into something more thrilling, more taboo.

I uncapped the lube and drizzled a little onto my penis. Some transformees naturally produced thick, slimy fluids like that. Maybe she did too. I could see her scaled cloaca glistening with them in my mind's eye.

Fiona had her kees planted on the edge of the bed, putting her ass in the perfect position for me to fuck standing up. What if she was standing on all fours? What if she was some creature with thickly muscled, reptilian legs? A wyvern would do. A wyvern that was submitting to little old human me, or better yet, demanding satisfaction from potential prey.

I pressed the head of my penis between her nether lips, and discovered that she was, in reality, wetter than I'd ever seen her before. The lube had been unnecessary, but the extreme slickness played right into my fantasy.

I closed my eyes- like I always did when we made love- and the hole I was fucking was no longer a pink human pussy, but a slick reptilian vent. Her opening milked my penis eagerly and effectively, considering I would have needed a horse's cock between my legs to truly fill her depths. She was desperate enough that even my human length elicited churrs of pleasure.

I gripped those powerful draconic hips. Her scales were stiff and cool under my fingertips. I wasn't able to see much past her tail, just a wide, scaled torso stretching forward, muscles rippling under the scaled skin. Her neck lengthened as I fucked her, stretching to and fro like she was trying to loosen up a pulled muscle. Now it was long enough for her to turn and look back at me as I thrust into her. She had a pleasured look on her ever-more reptilian face, fan ears twitching with each thrust. A crown of little horns gave her draconic head a regal embellishment. A long, forked tongue lolled from a cute bluted muzzle. Inside was a row of meat-ripping teeth that would seal my fate if I didn't properly satisfy her.

The creature spoke.

"That's right, love. I'm nothing but your fucktoy tonight. I'll do anything you want."

Fiona's generous words melted through my fantasy. I was back to fucking my human wife, the extra pudge we'd both put on in the years since our wedding jiggling a little with each thrust. I would have to lay off the birthday cake.

"No more words, honey, please."

She let loose a passionate groan of pleasure that turned bass and beastial as I rebuilt my dream. The winged forelegs she kept folded under her body would have been useless for pleasuring herself, so it was no wonder this wyvern was desperate enough to task her satisfaction to a mere human. Her cloaca gripped my shaft in a series of blissful spasms. It seemed I was performing my duty well.

This thought, and the very real climax my wife was experiencing, was enough to take me over the edge, and I came as well. The volume of my cum surprised me, but it had been a while since we were intimate.

We collapsed atop the covers and snuggled together in our afterglow. It was the best sex we'd had in years.

Fiona kissed me on the forehead. "Happy birthday," she said. There was subtle disappointment in her voice.

"Is something wrong?"

She sighed. "This didn't exactly go as I thought it would."

I ran my fingers through her red curls. "What do you mean? I enjoyed myself."

"Well, don't be mad at me" she started, her body tensing, "but I kinda sorta found your porn collection on our computer."

My eyes shot open. "You what!?"

We sat bolt upright to face each other. She looked as nervous as I was. "It wasn't my fault! You left it open! I logged on, and there it was."

"Oh no." I buried my head in my hands. All these years without a single slip-up and now this. I could only guess what embarrassingly lewd transformee smut she'd seen.

She pulled me into a hug. "Don't worry, big guy, I don't mind. In fact, I kinda want to try it out myself."

"You do?" I sniffed. My chest lifted with hope, then tightened again. She didn't understand the weight of that offer. She was trying to make me feel better. "I don't believe you."

"It's true!" she urged, pulling away so she could look into my eyes. "I was going to do it tonight, as a gift for you. Last week I emptied out my personal savings and bought a demon-cum potion from a traveling alchemist. I drank it before you got home."

"You drank a potion you bought off the street!?" I grasped her shoulders and searched her eyes for some hint that she might have been joking, but there was none. "That's crazy! You're lucky you didn't turn into my cock, or melt into a puddle of genitals!"

Fiona rolled her eyes. "Calm down. It was supposed to be temporary, and it was clearly a dud anyway. The man told me it would make my body match whatever you were picturing in your head as you fucked me. So unless you weren't fantasizing about anything at all. . ."

I looked down in unspoken shame.

"Well then, I guess I got scammed." She collapsed back onto the bed.

I laid next to her. "A potion that did those things would have cost a fortune. And besides, honeysuckle," I said, giving her cheek a kiss, "I love you just the way you are."

"I know you do, honeybee," she sighed. "I just want you to lust for me too."

That was the last we spoke of my freshly revealed kinks and Fiona's inadvisable trip to the potion-seller that evening. We had some cake, did the dishes, and watched TV. I was nervous about the followup conversations we would have to have, but for the moment, as we went to bed and drifted off to sleep, everything was as it had always been. Normalcy had been restored.

It did not last through the night.

I was half-asleep when I noticed something was amiss. Fiona slept on her side. I rolled over to spoon her, but I couldn't get comfortable. It felt like her knee was jabbing me in the stomach, but that would have it pointing the wrong way. My groggy mind slowly figured it out. If her legs were both down there, and her arms were out in front of her, then that meant the lump above her ass was something else entirely.

I rocked her awake. "Fiona, something's wrong."

She yawned and tried to roll over. The motion bent her new appendage the wrong way, and she leapt to her feet with a yelp. Now I could see it clearly. Starting at the base of her spine and standing proudly above her butt crack was a thick, stubby tail. It was no more than twelve centimeters long, but it was fat enough that its base pushed the top of her ass cheeks apart with its girth. She reached down to feel it and gasped. It twitched anxiously in her hand.

"Don't worry, Fiona," I said, my voice shaking, "We'll go to the doctor. They'll figure out what to do!"

She turned to face me, but instead of looking horrified, she had an ecstatic grin plastered on her face. "It worked! Babe, it's really happening! I have a tail!"

I watched, entranced, as she grabbed her cell phone off the nightstand and craned her back to take a video of the little wedge of her tail. "Hello, tail!" she said, waving her hand in the frame. Her tail wagged in a mock return greeting. She giggled furiously.

My mind flooded with an exotic cocktail of fear and arousal. Shock as well, if that's what you call the blank indecisiveness that gripped me while my instincts to flee and fuck battled it out. I watched my wife run her hands up and down the length of her tail. Blood rushed to my groin, and for a moment it seemed that arousal would win out. Then she turned to me with an expectant look on her face, and the long-honed reflex of hiding this particular kink tied my stomach in a knot.

"We have to go to the hospital," I said.

Fiona's face dropped in disappointment. "The potion is temporary. You want to spend that time in the hospital?" She turned so her tail was pointing toward me like an accusing finger. "Don't you want to touch it?"

I wanted to, but I had a feeling the situation was far more grave than Fiona understood. I tossed her a pair of panties. She frowned in annoyance but begrudgingly stepped into them. With her tail in the way, the panties barely hung to the curve of her hips. She turned around and leaned forward to give me a better view of her backside.

"How's it look down there?" she asked, with a teasing glint.

The lacy waistband was wedged underneath my wife's new tail, and something surprising was visible behind it: her asshole. The growth of her tail had drawn it up to the top of her crack in the same way a landslide might pull a geographic feature some distance down its destructive path yet leave it undisturbed. But now that I was looking, the dark pucker did seem different. Was it bigger?

I shook the thought out of my head and returned to the task at hand. Clearly, pants were out of the question, so I grabbed a dress and helped her Finoa pull it on. Her tail tented the rear like an exaggerated mockery of my own cock, which, despite the tense situation, refused to go flacid.

Thankfully, none of our neighbors were awake to see me ushering my transforming wife into our car. As soon as we were buckled, I sped off to the hospital.

Fiona shifted in her seat, trying to find a position that didn't cramp her tail. "Why are you so anxious, honeybee? Isn't this what you wanted?"

"No!" I cried.

Her face fell. "You're telling me you didn't picture me growing a big thick tail last night?"

I swallowed, and my wife's face split into a smug smile. "Hah! I knew it. You're still keeping your secrets from me. That's okay. Now at least I know you like tails. Big thick ones, from the feel of it."

"I do not!" I wailed.

"Oh yeah?" Fiona's hand shot out to my lap and gripped my erection through my pants. "You can lie with your mouth but not with your dick."

She gave my penis a couple strokes, eliciting an erotic tingle that caused me to swerve within my lane.

"Honey, please! I'm driving." I pulled her hand away from my crotch.

"Sorry, I'm just so damn horny. I haven't felt like this since we. . .well since ever."

Her fingers wandered under her dress and down her panties. I listened to the wet, slicking sounds of her self-pleasuring for the rest of the drive and resisted the urge to pull over and join in on her fun. The potion was clearly affecting her mind, and as the level-headed one, it was my duty to get us to the hospital.

I parked the car in front of the emergency room. When we stood, my wife left a dark wet spot on the seat's upholstery. Her face flushed bright pink. She grabbed some paper napkins from the glove box and made a token effort to wipe up the slimy spot, but it was no use. We headed inside to get some answers.

Unfortunately, there were few to be had.

Doctor Tanaka was a short woman who wore her hair tied up in a bun. "Whatever you drank, the effects are almost certainly permanent," she said as she measured my wife's tail. "Fourteen centimeters." The nurse jotted the number on her chart.

For the first time since we'd awoken, my wife's giddy excitement disappeared. "Permanent? I'm going to be like this forever?"

She paused as the diagnosis sank in. Her mouth twisted into a nervous smile, but her eyes betrayed a mounting dread. "Guess I'll have to cut tail holes in the back of all my pants when we get home."

"That's the spirit," said the doctor, "though it's anyone's guess how long you'll fit in them."

I spoke up. "You mean growing a tail isn't the end of it?"

"I wouldn't count on it. Considering the shady source of the potion and the nature of demon cum, I'm surprised you two didn't merge into something that looks like it belongs in Karma's realm."

It was as I feared. I laid a comforting hand on Fiona's shoulder.

Her tail drooped. "A creature from Karma's realm. . . something so twisted it can hardly do anything but shamble around and fuck anything that moves. Is that what I'm becoming?"

Doctor Tanaka pointed her pen toward me. "He has a better idea than any of us, I should think. That said, even if this potion had a mental aspect, there's no telling how you'll end up. Thought-guided alchemical transformations take years of intensive training to master. A single stray thought could manifest itself in drastic and unpredictable ways."

"Oh," my wife and I said in unison.

"The only thing you two can do is wait and see what happen-"

She was interrupted by a groan from Fiona's stomach so loud it sounded like she'd swallowed a full-grown drake. When it was over, the doctor and I stared in silence, and she grinned sheepishly.