As Mark followed Leira to the door, he noticed an unusually large set of cloth straps, with some kind of cushions and pouches attached, hanging by the coatrack, alongside a motorcycle helmet. They had definitely not been there before Leira had become a dragon, so it followed that it must have been something for her, but what? Curiously he picked them up.
Leira, who, in her understandable excitement to test out her new wings, had rushed straight to the door checked over her shoulder. “Master? Er, Mark, what’s the hold up? Come on, don’t you want to see me fly?”
“Oh,” Mark stammered. “Right, be right there.” He grabbed the straps and helmet, barely thinking about it, and followed Leira out the door with them.
The apartment halls looked almost comically cramped for Leira’s massive form, but here mental changes, limited though they had been were still enough to give her a sense of familiarity in navigating tight, meant-for-human spaces, and the other residents of the apartment seemed to back up against the walls with annoyed, practiced sighs to make room for the dragoness, rather than screaming in terror and running from the wall of scales and muscles. It seemed the reality alteration feature was pretty thorough.
Though none of that made getting into the tiny elevator with Leira less awkward. She backed up into a corner as best as she could to give Mark some personal space, but that still wasn’t much.
“So,” she said, looking at the buttons. “Should we go to the ground floor, and try taking off from there, or to the roof, and learn to fly like baby birds do?”
“The ground!” Mark huffed. “I don’t want to think about what’d happen if you made a mistake on your first flight from all the way up there!”
Leira laughed. “Oh come on, have a little faith in me!”
“Right… Right.” Mark nodded. “Plus, well, there’s more room to get a running start in the field than on the roof.”
Leira pushed the button, then glanced toward the straps as the elevator stared downward. “So what’re those things you’re holding? Part of that TF-Pad?”
“No, they weren’t in our apartment until I changed you, so I think they must have something to do with you being a dragon.”
Leira blinked. “Huh. Yeah, I’m kinda getting a sense of deja-vu from them. Though that helmet’s definitely not made for this pretty little face.” She gestured to her muzzle and horns. “It must be for you.”
Mark looked down at the helmet again, and, curiously, put it on. It fit snuggly and comfortably, there was no doubting it was his, now, but he couldn’t see why he’d need it.
The two soon reached the bottom floor and stepped outside, into a large, grassy field behind their apartment building. Kids occasionally played out here, and there had been attempts to plant small gardens or set up benches, but the place was pretty open, and devoid of any people to worry about accidentally running over today.
Leira didn’t hesitate for a second. The moment she had stepped out the door, she’d gotten on all fours and charged forward, building up speed before spreading her wings wide and giving a series of heavy, powerful flaps as she leapt off the ground. And in moments, it was as if gravity’s grip on her had slipped, as she climbed higher and higher into the air, letting out a joyous roar.
“Yeeeahhaah! Woohoo!” She moved through the air with the finesse of a creature that had flown since it was born, diving climbing, doing loop-de-loops and barrel rolls near effortlessly. Even just watching from the ground, Mark couldn’t help but share in her excitement.
“You go, Leira!”
After a few minutes twirling though the air, the dragoness dropped slowly down, skidding to a halt in front of her best friend and now master.
“That, was AWESOME!” She said, panting. “I know I thanked you before, but thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, THANK YOU so much for this!” She hugged Mark tight. “I’m never gonna be the same after this. I don’t think I could EVER go back to being human after flying on my own, even if you could change me back.”
“You’re welcome! I’m glad you’re loving it.”
“So, are you gonna change yourself with that thing next? What’ll you be?”
“I’m not sure yet,” Mark said. “I only get one shot at it, I wanna make sure it’s something I won’t regret… Well, if this thing can change me at all. I don’t know how it’d make me loyal to myself, and all.”
Leira nodded, letting go of him. “I get that.” She looked down at the straps still in his hand, again, and it was as if something just clicked. “Hey, hang on a second… Could you let me see those a second, Master?”
“Uh, sure,” Mark said, handing them over.
With a practiced motion, she flung the portion of the straps with the cushion and pouches onto her back, between her wings, and tightened the cloth straps around her arms and legs, securing them in place.
Realization hit Mark’s face. “Oh, I get it! It’s so you can carry stuff around while you’re flying. Cool.”
“Not just that,” Leira said with a fanged grin, and pointed behind her. “Check out the extra straps. I think this harness is to let you fly with me.”
Mark’s eyes widened.
* * *
Mark hadn’t been quite as practiced at working his own safety straps, but he was soon tied closely, but comfortably to her back. Mark felt, nervous, excited, eager, and fidgety, all at the same time, anticipating what was to come. His breathing was short and uneven.
The buildup in speed was rough at first; Mark had never ridden an animal before, and the experience was bumpy compared to a car. But that only lasted seconds, compared to what was to come.
He found himself holding his breath as Leira leapt off the ground, a sense of vertigo coming to him as the ground grew became slightly further away, then a little closer, then more distant, a little closer, and lot further, with each rise and fall of the dragoness’s powerful wings.
He clung on for dear life as they rose up higher and higher, a panicky glance at the apartment windows telling him they were at least five floors off the ground.
Mark had been in an airplane before, but this was nothing like that. The ride wasn’t smooth, there was a continuous rising and falling. And there was no reassuring floor or chair below him, just the massive twitching, flexing muscles beneath his friend’s scaley skin.
And yet, as they climbed higher and higher, Mark finally found himself releasing his breath, and taking in the sights of the town below him.
“This is amazing!” He cheered.
“Tell me about it!” Leira said with a laugh. “So Master, anywhere you wanna go, while we’re up here? Maybe there’s someone you wanna change?”
Mark, admittedly, still felt a little uncomfortable using this thing when it would make the person it changed unfailingly loyal to him regardless of how they felt before, but at the same time, he did know a few people who would definitely enjoy a change, and seeing as they were already friends with him, it wasn’t like he’d be changing them THAT much, right? Leira was still Lars at heart, after all.
“You remember where Stuart lives?”
“Yep!” Leira grinned. “I’ll get you there in no time, Master.”
Stuart Rice was a friend Mark had made while he and Lars were attending a FurMeet a few years back. He was a friendly, laid-back fellow, whose tech-support call-center job never seemed to get on his nerves. Not in a way he’d shown anyone, at least. He’d also been into furries and transformation, and had bumped into the two friends while admiring some TF art at the con, where they’d gotten to talking unusually quickly. Stuart had a way of making people feel comfortable and open around him.
Leira dropped down in front of a little house in the suburbs, the lawn starting to get a bit overgrown. After getting himself out of the safety gear, Mark and Leira went up to the door, and knocked.
In about half a minute, a short, wide framed man of twenty-five, his hair a mop of brown, opened the door. “Oh, hey Mark, Leira. Didn’t expect to see you two over here. Shoulda called, I’d have gotten out some crackers, or something.” He stood back. “Come on in, take a seat.”
The two stepped inside, the familiar sights of decades-old, handed down furniture in the living room, in front of a small TV with an old PSX connected to it. A bookshelf in the corner was lined with works by the likes of Mark Twain and Charles Dickens, alongside comics collections, arranged in no order that Mark could make out. Leira sprawled herself across a blue sofa, while Mark sat in an old wooden rocking chair. Stuart excused himself to the kitchen, and came back with a box of crackers and a few glasses of water, which he set on the glass coffee table between them.
“So, what brings you two out here? Just taking an exercise flight and decided to drop in?”
“Heh, it’s a little more than that,” Mark said with a grin. “I’ve got a little surprise for you.” As he said those words, he pointed at Stuart, whose profile came up on the pad. “Just give me a second.”
He quickly wrote down “Turn Stuart into his fursona,” made sure the awareness setting remained on, and that the mental changes were low, then waited.
Leira watched eagerly, as Stuart shivered slightly, his skin looking moist, all of a sudden.
“Uhg… I’m feeling kinda funny…” Stuart shook his head. “Maybe you guys should… go?”
He stared down at his fingers, as the tips of each one grew wider, a sticky pad forming on each one, as the skin on his hands and arms turned a bright blue, with splotches of black.
“What the heth-!” His speech was slurred as his tongue grew longer, a sticky substance forming on it, as well. His nose flattened as his mouth pressed out a little, while his ears shrank out of sight.
“That’s the surprise,” Mark said, beaming. “A real-life transformation of your own! Don’t worry, though, everyone’ll think your being a frog is normal!”
“Wh-what?” Stuart shook his head. “I’ve gotta just be dreaming, man. The skin on his head turned pitch-black, with yellow markings streaking brightly through it, while his eyes grew larger, and turned a deep blue. His hair and clothing seemed to just melt away, revealing that his torso had already tuned black, with bright blue markings in front, and yellow stripes on the back. He also didn’t seem to have any immediately visible sexual traits on display, but frogs could hide that sort of thing, anyway. He patted over his chest curiously, his fingers sticking slightly, but coming off easily.
His legs seemed to have become slightly longer, the skin taking the same black and blue mix as his arms, while his toes had gotten much longer, sticky pads like those on his fingertips forming on his toes, as well.
He quite literally leapt to the bathroom, gazing at himself in the mirror. “Holy shit… I look just like my dart frog ‘sona…” He stepped back out into the living room. “Master… This is freaky… but also cool… How did you DO that?” He blinked. “And why’d I call you Master?” He shrugged. “Eh, saying it again, it does kinda feel right somehow. Like, I owe you for this.”
Mark grinned, and explained the pad to Stuart.
“Wait, so you’re telling me nobody will know I’m any different. I trust you, man, but how can you be sure?”
Leira laughed. “Personal experience, let’s just say.”
“So, what do you plan on doing with it? If nobody can tell anything’s wrong, you could just go crazy with it, turn the whole world on its head, if you wanted.”