ROYAL REWARD: A Long Way From Home (TG, Dragongirl TF, 2nd Person)

The sky thunders as you trudge along the mountain path, the soles of your feet and every muscle in your body aching as if they’re about to snap. You’ve been walking for what feels half an eternity at this point, and it’s starting to feel as if you’re never going to reach the ground again. Who knew climbing mountains was so hard?

Just as you’re about to sink into despair, you spy a row of faint lights flickering on the horizon. Summoning the last of your strength, you stand straight and push forward, intent on finding the source. Could it be…? Could you have found the…?

Your heart leaps in your chest as you cross the next ridge. It is! You’ve found it! 

Ahead of you, just at the end of the mountain trail, stands a small restaurant, hewn out of the mountain side itself. Bright red, with Chinese lanterns hanging on ropes around the entrance, it fills you with a feeling it takes you a second to recognize: hope! 

Also, hunger. Licking your lips, you hurry forward. You can smell the delicious meals on offer from here! 

As you approach, you’re able to see through the glass to the other side. You can’t see any customers sitting in the booths, but you do see women in qipaos scurrying about, occasionally flicking glances at you, as if they’re as surprised to see someone approaching the restaurant as you are to see it in your path. Swallowing, you quicken your pace. You can’t wait to get inside and put something in your belly. 

Reaching the door, you make to grab the handle and pause, frowning. Are you…? Are you actually safe to go on? The myths of the restaurant portray it as a miracle, a mountain oasis for lost wanderers of the peaks…

…but at the same time, they also warn of the incredible danger it poses. Those who violate its hospitality are never seen again. 

Swallowing, you step back and brush yourself down in a quick, if likely futile, attempt to make yourself presentable. Finally, taking a deep breath, you place your hands on the handles and push, striding inside with all the confidence you’ve summoned.

As you step through the door, the bell above it rings, and in unison every face in the restaurant turns to look at you. You, in turn, freeze on the spot, blushing at the sheer amount of beauty. You feel as though you’ve walked into the finals of Miss Mountaintop. 

“H-hello,” you say, voice quavering. You wonder if you should bow or if it that would be inappropriate.

In response, one of the girls glides over to you. Seeing her up close, you realize just how true the myth of the restaurant is:

Horns sprout from the girl’s head, tall and branching, while a long tail trails, scaled, behind her, sweeping the floor as she moves. You flinch back at the sight, stunned into silence. Up until now, you thought it was all wrong, that you were simply imagining it, but the sight of this beautiful woman up close confirms your suspicions: she’s a half-long, a dragongirl, like the attendants of the restaurant of myth. 

“Hello,” she says, bowing politely. “Welcome to the Mountain Restaurant. Is there I can get you? A warm bowl of lo mein, perhaps?” 

Speechless, you settle for nodding rapidly and, when you realize that might be taken as rude, mutter a mumbled ‘please’. “Th-that would be wonderful.” 

The dragongirl smiles. Taking your hand in her own, she guides you across the restaurant floor, tail sweeping the tiles, and guides you into a seat in the corner. Looking out the window, you go dizzy at the sight of the mountains below, stretching high into the heavens and yet so far, far below you. 

Taking your coat, the dragongirl steps back with a smile. “Your order will be with you momentarily,” she says, zipping away like she’s on wheels.

You call out to thank her, but she’s already gone. 

Meanwhile, sitting there with your hands on the table meekly, you can’t help but notice that the other waitresses of this strange restaurant are slowing getting closer, like sharks circling a juicy morsel in the water. Their horns gleam in the lantern light, their tails swish to and fro, their curves… Blushing, you look away, not daring to stare, but the image of those breasts and hips crammed into such form-fitting outfits is impossible to get out of your mind. You’ve never seen something so attractive. 

Slinking towards your booth, two of the dragongirls slip into the seats beside you, squeezing you between them. A third and fourth take the seats on the opposite side of the table, while the fifth leans on the back of the seat, resting her breasts on your shoulders. You blush redder than the lanterns. 

The dragongirl to your left leans on your side, tracing a claw finger over your chest. “So, what brings you to the Mountain Restaurant?” she asks, voice playful. “It’s been ever so long since we’ve had visitors. Especially someone so handsome~.” 

Your blush, already scarlet, turns redder than possible. “I-I–” 

You’re saved from having to answer by the arrival of your bowl of lo mein, which lands on your table with a clack of porcelain, hot and steamy. Looking into the swirls of the noodles, you heard a low groaning and wonder if it’s an avalanche. It takes you a moment to realize it’s your stomach. 

“Tuck in,” says the first dragongirl, slipping into the sole remaining seat in the booth. “It’s infused with tons of dragon yin, so it’s certain to make you feel extra special.” 

Dragon girl yin? You don’t have time to ask her what this means exactly: the bottomless pit in your stomach is impossible to ignore. All you can do is take a deep breath, grab the chopsticks on offer, and start to scoop it into your mouth as fast as you can breathe, barely even caring what these beautiful women think of you. It’s been so long since you’ve eaten you can’t think of anything else.

By the time you finish the first bowl, you’re starting to feel a little better at least. You’re so warm all of a sudden, as if there’s a fire in your gut spreading rapidly through your body. You hiccup, and a blast of steam emerges from your mouth–you blink, wondering if you imagined it. 

Even as you struggle to decide, the first dragongirl plants another enormous bowl of noodles in front of you. Your eyes flash in surprise. “O-oh, I didn’t order a–” 

“Go on, eat up,” says the first dragongirl, pushing the bowl right up to you. “Everyone knows that if you empty your plate, you must want seconds.” She and the rest of her sisters giggle. 

Eyeing your empty bowl, you realize you might have made a mistake. Still, there’s nothing you can do about it now. Taking a deep breath, you pick up your chopsticks once more and start to scoop even more delicious noodles down your throat. The dragongirls watch you with grins of amusement. 

The more you eat, the more the fire in your belly grows, hotter and hotter, till you’re certain you’ll explode. You can feel the heat roared through your bones like steam through metal piping, searching for a gap to slip through and burst free, explosive. Your heart pounds; your brow runs with sweat. You feel yourself start to panic, just a little. What exactly is happening to you? 

The more you eat–and you certainly can’t stop, not with these dragonladies watching on and encouraging you–the greater the pressure that builds in your gut and bounces around your body, making your muscles spasm and your bones grind and every ounce of fat on your figure bulge as if pumped full of air. One particularly strong pang forces you to stop and clutch your stomach, tightening your eyes and groaning, afraid your body is going to tear itself apart. Then a pulse strikes your chest and, with a gasp, you open your eyes to find something you never expected to see no matter how long you wandered the mountain: boobs. You’ve got a pair of giant breasts! 

Around you, the dragons burst into giggles. “What’s the matter?” asks one, leaning in as if intending to give your new chest a kiss. “You look like you’re surprised. Don’t you know what kind of effect yin-infused food has on people?” 

You shake your head, unsure how to response. Your new boobs swing to and fro with the motion. God, you can’t believe how big they are. 

“Yin is pure femininity,” says the dragon, “and dragon yin is especially potent.” She gives your new breasts a flick, leaving you gasping in shock. “I can’t wait to see how cute you look.” 

“H-how c-cute?” Even as you struggle to speak, one of the other dragons raises your chopsticks and casually inserts another helping of lo mein into your mouth. You swallow it instinctively, gasping in surprise, and another bolt of energy courses through your form, leaving you squeaking as you rise in your seat, raised by the force of your growing butt to new heights. 

A barrage of bombs explode throughout your form, from your head to your feet and your thighs to your butt. Your chin smooths out with a crack; your nose shrinks with a snap. Your shoulders shoot inward, and your spine compresses by several noticeable inches. You squeal in surprise, struggle to grab at yourself, faintly hoping that if you hold yourself hard enough, you might just be able to keep yourself together. It doesn’t work, of course. 

At the same time as your shoulders and spine and waist compress, your hips jut outward, stretching, leaving you with a ridiculous pair of curves that match your ridiculous new breasts. Squealing, you grab yourself in shock–you can’t believe it. You’ve got an hourglass figure! 

Waves of tingling and pulsing pass through your form, knocking you about in your seat with the violence of their power. Your boobs grow again, doubling, and your butt hurries to match them. You squeal, and the voice that emerges from your throat is high-pitched. It resembles your own in everything save octave. 

Finally, you feel a sudden pressure in two spots, as if something is fighting to escape your head and back. With a crack you can only hope is imagined, two ivory horns puncture your hair and rise, tall and branching, from your crown. A moment later, a fat tail, long and white and scaled and smooth, almost piscine, pours from the base of your spine and flows out into your seat, filling it and spilling out over the edge, where it falls towards the floor, tip just striking the ground. 

Your heart pounds as you lower your chopsticks, your delicate new fingers shaking around them. That’s… that’s it. You can’t take anymore. You don’t care if it’s rude. You’ve had enough! 

“Ah ah ah,” says one of the dragons, pinching your wrist and raising the sticks back to your lips. “There’s still one thing you need to take care of.” She directs your attention down, and you spot your bulge, looking very much out of place in your pants now. 

“O-oh.” 

She plops the chopsticks into your mouth, and you swallow instinctively. 

And so, you finish your meal with a bang, so to speak. 

*

Afterward, in the little apartment over the restaurant, you squirm on the spot, red all over, as your new sisters squeeze you into a tight qipao.

Seeing yourself in the mirror, a cute, if very curvaceous, dragongirl with tall, branching horns and a large, flopping tail, you want to burst into flames. Your new dress is so tight you can barely breathe. Why did the lo mein have to make you so curvy? 

Giggling, the other dragons wrap their arms around you. 

“Welcome to the restaurant, sister~.”