Jeremy Bayer, Dragon Layer Pt. 02

"I-I'm sorry!" she gasped out, her voice a babbling desperation. "I'm so fucking sorry, Jere, Jeremy, Master, please, I...I'll do anything, just, just, please, I..."

Jeremy grabbed her tail. His cock pressed against her cunt as he leaned over her, pinning her down with his free hand, his voice a warm growl in her ear. "I'm going to fuck your brains out and cum in your cute little kitty pussy, and then, and then, you're going to start working off the debt you owe me, Morgan." She nodded, panting, eagerly, her eyes closed to slits.

"Yes, please, god, make me your kitty slave, I, ah, fuck...I...I don't want to be..." She paused, then ducked her head, turning it to the side. She looked at him over her shoulder. "I don't want to be that Morgan anymore. I...I didn't like...it..."

Jeremy blinked, and felt the dark urge inside of him relent ever so slightly as he drew back a bit. His brow furrowed...and a million tiny pieces clicked together all at once -- subtle clues and little happenstances. The way that Morgan had seemingly reveled in showing himself off to Jeremy, the way that he had pushed Jeremy against walls, the fact that...well, Jeremy's sisters were hot, but they were far from the most popular girls at school. In fact, they were solidly middle tier, while Morgan B. Clarke was the richest, most popular jock at school.

Why them?

Jeremy blinked again.

"...you always wanted me, didn't you?"

Morgan's cheeks heated. Her eyes darted aside.

"You were always into me!" Jeremy said again, his voice shocked.

Morgan opened her mouth. Closed it. Then she flushed even more. "...yes."

"You...always wanted my dick inside you," Jeremy whispered.

"Y-You're...just...so fucking noble and kind and earnest and you work so hard a-and...and...fuck, I've loved you since the twelfth grade, and...and sometimes, I liked to imagine...what if I was a girl, and..." Morgan blushed hard, looking aside, her cheeks burning. "A-And now I am and...and..."

Jeremy thrust into her.

His cock plunged into her cunt, spreading the folds of her sex, filling her to the brim with a single long, smooth, slow thrust. Morgan's face twisted up and her back arched as she threw her head back, crying out in pure, abject bliss. "Ohhhhhhhhh JEREMY!" She gasped out as Jeremy shuddered inside of her, then drew back and back and back, until the very tip of his enhanced dick was all that was still inside of her.

He thrust again.

"JEREMY!" She screamed out again.

"Shhh, don' want your parents to hear you when they come home," Jeremy crooned.

"Oh, they're being fixed upstairs, don't worry," Penny said as Cinder moved around to film Morgan's face and breasts from the far side of the island, her eyes gleaming. Jeremy snapped his head around to look at Penny with wide, wide eyes -- but then Morgan rocked her hips against him and Jeremy's body reacted by beginning to fuck her. His hips slammed into hers, his balls clapped against her thighs, and Jeremy swore the whole island creaked with the force of his thrusts. Which was saying something, it was a chunk of slate and steel with three sinks and a bunch of cutting space on it!

Morgan's voice had gone from passionate to nearly hysteric. "Yes! Yes! Yes! Fuck! Fucking wreck me, ah! Jeremy, yes! AH! I love your dick! I love you! Ah! I'm losing my mind!" Her eyes rolled back into her head as she arched her back, her sex clenching on his dick with the desperate clenching of a fist. "YES! YES! YES! YES! YES! FUCK!"

Jeremy managed, somehow, to keep himself from cumming for long enough to pull out. His cock sprang free and he groaned as thick spurts of cum began to splash along her back and spine, puddling onto the small of her back, dripping down her ass, painting her thighs as he held himself and fucked his own hand, his cock twitching as he came and came and came, gasping heavily. His eyes half closed and he whispered. "F-Fuck! Fuck...fuck..." He groaned, while Morgan's head dropped down against the island. She trembled, her knees quivering -- barely able to support her, and that was with most of her body sprawled across the island, her hands gripping the far end of it.

"Ah...w-was I good, Jere?" she asked, her voice soft.

Jeremy realized that...if he wanted to, he could be a real monster to Morgan. And it wasn't like she hadn't earned it -- misplaced romantic feelings and fucked up internalized transphobia aside, Morgan had externalized her feelings in a way that had left him bruised, sleep deprived, and humiliated more often than not. Jeremy saw, clearly, at least one part of him who casually dragged her off the island, smacked her across the face, kicked her, and called her every foul name he could think of.

Cunt.

Cum dump.

Useless fucking whore.

Waste of breath.

Idiot bitch.

And he could feel the hot, sick pleasure of the words, of the look of pain on Morgan's fair features as she cringed away from his voice and his hand. And he could feel the dark, bitter taste of the mental image of her coming back to him, naked and downcast, her face showing bruises...and spreading her thighs for him. Still desperate for him.

And she'd...

Deserve it?

Jeremy stepped backwards, gulping slightly.

"W-Was I?" Morgan asked, nervously.

Jeremy took Morgan's hand, then kissed her knuckles. His voice was gentle. "Amazing, Morgan. You were absolutely amazing," he said, smiling. Morgan blushed, looked at her feet, then whispered.

"C-Cool." She blushed, harder, then whispered. "I-I have to...lie down."

Cinder bumped against her back, shifting into her dragon form as she did so -- so that Morgan sat down on the curved spine of a quadrapedal, pony-sized dragon. Morgan blinked, looking down at Cinder, but Cinder seemed to be entirely up to carrying the former bully. Then Cinder glowed and a kind of...

Jeremy's brow furrowed.

"Is that a...throne?" he asked as the chair finished growing up and out of Cinder's back. "How the hell did you shapeshift to have a throne?" he asked as Morgan settled into Cinder's throne.

"I can shapeshift to have clothes, and this is shocking to you?" Cinder snapped.

"It's just a bit dem-" Jeremy started.

A gag slapped over Morgan's mouth and tentacles grew from Cinder's back, wrapped around Morgan's arms, and then plunged into her ass and her cunt, all at the same time. Morgan's eyes widened and she wriggled in shock, before slowly sagging into the throne as Cinder began to fuck her hard with the tentacles, her grin wicked.

"-meaning..." Jeremy finished.

"Everyone enjoys their new catgirl in a different way, Jeremy, don't be judgmental," Penny said, waggling her finger. "Now, come on, the Parents are almost done."

"I, wh..." Jeremy stammered, but Penny began to skip forward, her jiggling rump leading the way up the stairs, to the large bedroom that was, apparently, where Mr. and Mrs. Clark spent their time when they were not being a trophy wife and foreclosing on banks or whatever it was that Mr. Clark did. The room was full of the smell of magic -- a faint ozone scent that tingled in the air -- and of dragons. Skye, Rayne and Nova were here, looking quite pleased with themselves. And there, on the bed, were both of the Clarks.

Mrs. Clark was entirely unchanged. Save that she was naked.

And...

Good Goddamn, whatever money had been spent on making Mrs. Clark into Mrs. Clark had been money preposterously well spent. She had the classiest pair of fake tits that Jeremy had ever seen -- in that they were clearly fake. Too round, too perky, slightly too big to be natural, especially on a woman of her age. But they didn't edge over into the uncanny valley of tits -- instead, they sat proudly at the very edge of that valley: Obvious enough that you could see the money, still beautiful enough that you had to respect the skilled surgeons who had made them responsible. Except her tits weren't the only thing like that. Everything from her too perfect features to her shoulders to her hairless body was just like that, and only refined by a fine layer of working muscles that had to be the result of quite a lot of gym work.

Next to her, Mr. Clark was also entirely unchanged. Except he was wearing clothes. Jeremy was fairly comfortable in his masculinity and had never found the whole 'oh, no, another dude, gross' thing to make any goddamn sense...but he was still faintly relieved that Mr. Clark was dressed, if only because he was an intimidating guy. Morgan had inherited his muscles, but not his determined, focused expression. The fact said expression was currently captured by Nova's pocket watch (where the fuck had she gotten a pocket watch from?) as she swung it from a single midnight black finger only made Jeremy slightly more relaxed.

"What's...going on?" he asked, nervously.

"Huh?" Nova looked at him. "Oh. Hey Jeremy, how did you like Morgan?"

"She was...purrfect," Penny said.

"I thought we weren't going to do the cat thing," Nova said, cocking her head as she tossed the pocket watch into the trash where it clunked home.

"Eh, I changed my mind at the last second," Penny said, shrugging her hands to the side. "What can you do?"

"Guys. Question! What the fuck?" Jeremy asked, throwing up his hands. "I...I kinda get what you did to Morgan. What's going on here, though? Also, no, scratch that, back up, what the fuck did you do to Morgan? You made her...him...into...that..." He spluttered.

"You already fucked her brains out, you're not allowed to have moral quandaries now!" Cinder snapped from behind him.

Jeremy opened his mouth, closed it, then sighed. "Okay. Fine. You made Morgan into a sexy catgirl for me and...I appreciate it. But, uh, what is going on here?" He asked, gesturing to the now spaced out Mr and Mrs. Clark.

"That's what we were going to let you choose!" Skye said. "These two are quite evil. I've done a quick telepathic scan -- did you know that Mr. Clark is...well, I think he's a...crossover between a Lord and a moneylender, except, more complicated. I thought Christians weren't allowed to lend money, that was just stuff you made Jews do so you had a built in excuse to murder than and steal their stuff."

"Hooo boy, that is a lot," Jeremy said. "Antisemetism got even worse and weirder than you could think. And...the same, actually..." He rubbed his chin. "Adrenochrome is just blood libel with the names swapped around, isn't it..." He muttered to himself. At their confused expression, he shook his head. "Nevermind. Yes, that's basically what Mr. Clark is. He, uh, he does magic shit with money and somehow that makes him rich and makes other people super poor. Don't ask me how to explain it, I am not a wizard who knows what money does."

"What's a wizard who knows what money does?" Nova asked, sounding distracted.

"An economist," Jeremy said.

Nova blinked at him, while Penny burst out laughing so hard that she collapsed onto her back and began to roll around, kicking her legs gently as she giggled and rolled left, then right, then left again, wriggling on the floor.

"And I still...don't...get what you're all talking about, what do you mean I get to choose?" Jeremy asked.

"We're not sure what to do with the parents," Skye said. "Mrs. Clarke is less evil than her husband, but she still is fairly evil -- she profits off him and also, I think at least half the people who work for her are slaves of some kind. She thinks of them as 'prison labor', which sounds like slavery to me, but what do I know, I'm just a silver dragon!" She threw up her hands, glaring at Rayne, who looked sad.

"I'm just saying, so much as changed, we should check with Jeremy first..."

"No, it's slavery," Jeremy said.

Rayne let out a long, slow sigh. "Okay," she said.

"So, I was thinking, she can become a sex pet, and you kill him," Skye said with perfect bloodthirstiness, pointing at Mr. Clark.

"No! You can't just kill him!" Jeremy exclaimed.

"Why not?" Skye asked, her eyes narrowing, her tail lashing through the air. "How many people died because they can't afford houses that he stole with his money magic? How many people died because they couldn't pay apothecaries for their gout or to get their requisite bloodlettings? Or just for not having enough food?" She snored and a pair of thin streams of smoke burst from her nostrils. "If anything, killing him is a civic service. Plus, killing bad guys feels great, Jere, you'll love it."

"No!" Jeremy exclaimed, realizing that when she said 'you' she meant 'him' and...of course. Everything the dragons did, with a few exceptions, had no consequences, thanks to the Working. "I am not killing Morgan's Dad!" He shook his head. "No!"

Skye huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'd have thought a heroic Protector like you would want to avenge yourself upon evil!"

"Not like this," Jeremy said, his cheeks heating. "Listen, can't...can we..."

He paused.

He thought.

The dragons all waited.

"Is there a way you can make the hypnosis permanent?" Jeremy asked. "Like, permanent permanent, not just, like..." He trailed off.

"Sure!" Skye said. "If you invest some of yourself into the action, so that it becomes a human act, rather than purely a draconic act, it's permanent." She said, nodding, while Rayne blinked, then smiled, slowly. The sight of the normally dour and depressive dragon smiling made Jeremy's heart skip a beat -- and he realized that he had wanted to make her smile more than he expected. Rayne lifted her head.

"Oh," she said. "Yeah."

"What?" Skye asked.

"We're not going to kill him. We're just going to make him good," Jeremy said, nodding slowly. "How do I, uh, do this?"

A few moments later, Skye was pressed up against Jeremy's back, and Jeremy's arm was thrust out, holding the pocket watch that dangled from his fingertip -- and Penny and Nova's hands were pressed against the sides of his arm. Magic pulsed through each of them, into his body, while Cinder watched with her thighs wrapped around Morgan's head, Morgan casually eating her out -- clearly more than happy to be subservient to the firey redheaded red dragon. Jeremy tried to ignore that and instead focused on the slow, swaying movement of the watch dangling from his finger -- and tried to hold onto the magic that crackled through his every nerve.

"Mr. Clark..." he said. "You are feeling very empathetic to your fellow humans."

"I am feeling very empathetic to my fellow humans," Mr. Clark whispered.

"You are thinking that you wish to use your wealth to improve the world," Jeremy whispered.

"I am thinking I wish to use my wealth to improve the world," Mr. Clark's voice was a slightly stronger monotone now, his eyes focused on the watch.

"You are going to set up a political organization that has the goal of protecting and aiding disenfranchised people. Further, you are going to sell your housing units to the people who live in them. Finally...you will live in your summer house permanently and leave your winter home to the Bayers..." Jeremy added that last bit with a sudden jolt of nervousness. Was that too selfish? Too late now!

Mr. Clark repeated all of that back to him.

"Okay!" Penny said, then pointed her finger at Mr. Clark's head and fired it off. A jolt of magic hit him and he slowly slumped forward, his eyes closing as he passed out. "If he's as smart and talented as he seems, then he'll do lots of good. And we'll fuck his wife si-"

"No," Jeremy said, his hands on his hips, pointedly not looking at Mrs. Clark's amazing rack. "She's going to go with him."

"But-" Penny said.

"That's final, we're only going to make o-one girl a sex slave," Jeremy said. "Y-You know you're not actually a sex slave, right, Morgan, you can leave at any time?" He looked at her. She was still eating Cinder out -- causing the red to sigh in pleasure.

Morgan lifted her right arm, then gave him a thumbs up.

Jeremy put his hand over his face, rubbing at it slowly.

"Ethics!" Penny said, thrusting her arms into the air.

***

The front doors to the mansion opened and Mom, Jen and Jes walked into the house, looking around themselves as Jeremy stood in the foyer, clicking his thumbs and smacking his palm into his knuckles to make a very satisfying click, pop, SMACK! Sound. It was a way to bleed off nervous tension as his Mom looked around herself, her jaw hanging open in shock. The twins, meanwhile, were looking faintly confused -- and Jeremy knew that was because they had never actually been to Morgan's house save for when he drove them here under the cover of night and snuck them to his room, which had been...rare indeed.

Because, as she had confessed, it was mostly an attempt to get Jeremy to notice her.

Which...

That was still a LOT. Jeremy was still unpacking everything THAT meant.

So, instead, he focused on his family as they looked around themselves.

"How?" Mom whispered. "I know you said that this was our house now, you sent us the deed and everything, it was all legal, but...how!?" She asked.

Jeremy blinked.

Opened his mouth.

Closed it.

"We won a contest," He said.

Mom's brow furrowed.

Jessica squealed and screamed and started to bounce excitedly, while her twin sister clapped her hands. "Contest!" They both said at once, then sprinted past Jeremy, towards the pool. Mom narrowed her eyes -- and Jeremy wondered, for a moment, if she was remembering the previous time that he had tried to lie this badly to her. If the hypnosis that the dragons had slapped onto her had faded, and Mom was going to ask him some very, very, very pointed questions.

Then she smiled.

"Well, Jeremy, I always said our luck was bound to turn around," she said, looking around, then up. "I just never knew -- oh my god, are those kittens?"

Jeremy looked at the five kittens who were peeking down from the second story landing. They were each looking deeply smug.

But of course they were.

They were kittens.

Jeremy grinned. "I splurged."

Mom sprinted upstairs to hug and pet the kittens and Jeremy breathed a slow sigh of relief out as he looked around himself. With Mr. Clark's bank accounts used to move the millions of stolen money into different accounts without anyone peeking too close at it (thank you rich people basically just being criminals with fancy houses), he was rich. He was ripped. He was hung. And he had just stolen his sister's boyfriend and made her into a hot catgirl.

Jeremy blinked.

"Am I the bad guy?" he asked, nervously...unaware that, at that very moment, he was watched through a sniper scope.

The man on the other end, peering through the high powered magnification, whispered to himself. "Oh, Mr. Bayer, you most definitely are..." Beowulf St. George lifted his head and lowered the rifle, frowning. This was going to take some extra preparation, to ensure that the hunt was successful...

And that the dragons were in the proper hands.

TO BE CONTINUED