Twilight's Dragon Semen Journal (PRIVATE)

Chapters

April
June
July
September
October
November
December
January
Hearth's Warming
Inside of the back cover

April

Author's Note

The cover of this research journal has a bright purple star, like many other journals on the research shelf in this private library. While a few journals are pristine, most are burned, tattered, or stained in some way.

The cover of this journal looks wet even though it is dry, and the thick binding has a pockmarked surface—as though someone dribbled acid over it. The binding label is simply RESEARCH LOG (PRIVATE), with no further external labeling.

April

Tuesday, April 7th, 15NMR:

Spike, if you’re reading this, then stop right now. You are not allowed to read this.

I’ll tell you everything in time. Please stop reading now.

I’ve decided to progress with the experiment. The plan I’ve developed is sufficient, and I don’t see any workable alternatives. If things are left as they are, my #1 assistant could end up seriously hurting himself or his ~~mare~~ hen-friend. Spike is an adult now, and it’s not my place to tell him what to do. But if I do nothing, then Gabby will likely be seriously hurt, and Spike may be scarred forever.

I’ve done the math, and Griffons can’t carry a dragon egg to maturity. While Spike has matured to being an adult and is comparable to a fully grown pony in size, he’s no where near fully grown for a dragon. Dragons mature over hundreds of years, and with his magic he’s likely to grow to a maximum of several hundred meters. Any of his sired spawn will at minimum be the size of his own egg, and likely be much larger.

Spike is an anomaly. While dragons are incredibly dynamic in their morphology, he is uniquely the only male dragon I’ve encountered who is humanoid like us equestrians. More importantly, I have observed that he has similar physiology and biology to ponies. I can’t be sure of what would happen should he attempt to reproduce with an equestrian, either a pony like myself or a griffon like Gabby. No other equestrian race lays eggs—they all have primarily mammalian traits to include live birth. I remember how large Spike’s egg was, and at best it would be non viable in a griffon. At worst, it could kill her—not unlike what can happen to a small female dog that has mated with a very large one.

I need to understand more about dragon reproduction. I need to study the biomagical process that creates and nurtures a dragon egg, and the most effective means is through direct observation and testing of relevant materials. I need to fully understand the risks so I can protect Spike from making the biggest mistake of his life.

Additionally, I need to deter him from sexually pursuing Gabby. While I am not in any position to disallow him from pursuing her, there are other methods which have worked to influence his decisions in the past. I will apply modified classical conditioning methods that have previously worked to help him acclimate to a regular bed time, and to wake up on time. This is for his own good, at least until I fully understand the dragon reproductive cycle.

No ethics board would approve what I am about to pursue, and so I am not submitting to one. I know Spike isn’t a consenting test subject, but I have no other options. I also know how he would respond if I asked him directly, and it would at best be negatively. I need to be careful in what I reveal to him—for his own good. The discoveries, and results, will be kept private. This journal is the only documentation I will keep.

I’m doing this for Spike, not for academia. Still, a level of academic rigor will be necessary in order to develop a methodology to assist him.

Wednesday, April 8th, 15NMR:
Entry 1:
I have convinced Spike to allow me to collect his semen. I explained to him that I am formulating a study of the dragon reproduction cycle, and as my #1 assistant, he’s best positioned to help supply me with materials. The conversation was quite awkward, and he only agreed contingent on me never telling anypony where I got my sample. I didn’t reveal that I never intended to.

He was very nervous that this may be considered cheating on Gabby. I took the opportunity to ask if they were sexually active. Thankfully, he claimed they are not. I then convinced him that it was medically and scientifically necessary for me to collect the semen on my own. He didn’t seem completely convinced, but I assured him that I had spells to ensure the proper preservation of the semen.

This is a true statement, but I could probably develop a device that contained the necessary enchantments. I simply don’t have the time. My hands will work just fine as both the spell focus and the collection tool.

Entry 2:
The collection failed. I was not familiar with dragon penises. I am not familiar with any penises. It took a long time to manipulate (23m:14s), and Spike was nervous the entire time. He kept asking if we were done yet, and I was clearly making him uncomfortable. I definitely squeezed him too hard at least once, which surprised me. Dragons, especially Spike, are notoriously resilient to pain. When it became obvious that I wasn’t going to get the sample, I apologized.

He apologized as well. He’s worried that something is wrong with him. After his penis retreated under his scales and we put his pants back on, I reassured him that it wasn’t his fault, and offered a hug that he cautiously accepted.

We were both relieved when the attempt was over. He has agreed to try again with me tomorrow. I informed him that I will do more research.

Observations:
Spike's penis is pink in color, and soft to touch. There is a deflated ridge line that runs the length across the top. It is flaccid, but lengthy when revealed from his scales; at least the length of my hand and a quarter. The penis is warm to the touch, much warmer than his scales. Its texture is soft and rubbery, like stiff putty with a much higher surface tension. There is no traditional flare at the tip, but there is a unique bulbous formation covered in small nodules instead. When flaccid, it is similar in appearance to a thick shoot of asparagus. My hands comfortably fit around it, and it is about the same circumference as a circle made with my index finger and thumb. More accurate measurements will follow once we are both more comfortable with the process.

Entry 3:
Personal notes:
~~Magical influence?~~ Needs to be a pleasant experience.
~~Familiarity?~~ He knows me and the lab. That value is already optimal.
Physical technique? Based on the research, I am lacking. Will practice.
State of mind? He’s too nervous. Have to calm him down.
~~Intimacy~~? This would not be an appropriate means to pursue the experiment.
Reciprocity? There may be some room here for me to compromise and help him feel sexual excitement without encroaching into the territory of sexual intimacy.
-Visual stimulation? I could remove clothing as a reward for him? Breasts?
-Audio stimulation? Sounds of affirmation? Informing him that his penis is large?
-~~Tactile stimulation?~~ This is dangerously close to intimacy, but perhaps allowing him to grab my breast would give him the push he needs? Do dragons like breasts? Is there another body part he might sexually enjoy? I will not be taking my pants off.

Thursday, April 9th, 15NMR:
Entry 1:
Collection of semen failed, but the extraction was a success. I opted to provide visual stimulation by taking my shirt off. He was interested in my breasts, but pretended not to be. I encouraged him to look in order to build his excitement. The techniques I practiced were also much more successful. Stimulation lasted longer than the previous attempt (31m:45s), but had visibly better responses throughout. Spike’s penis is much larger when erect, but accurate measurements were not made during this extraction. ~~He also asked me to stop less often~~ He was less curious about when the procedure would be over than the last time this was attempted.

Unfortunately, the semen was contaminated as neither of us were prepared for the expulsion. The semen ended up on my cleavage, where I did not have proper containment spells prepared. I must admit that I was surprised by the initial ejaculation, and dismayed that the majority had ended up on my chest, so I failed to collect any from the following spurts. Most ended up on me, while some ended up on the floor, with a small amount on his scales.

While the failure to collect the semen was unfortunate, the success in extraction was a great stride forward. I expect to have a usable sample tomorrow. I was unable to take proper observations due to the surprise of the event.

Spike was both surprised and relieved when he ejaculated. The biological expulsion appears to be highly pleasurable to him. He was unsure what to say after, so he informed me that he’s never “seen it do that” before. After further questioning, it’s apparent that he does not and has not masturbated. Male dragons seem to develop their sexual urges quite differently than male ponies. A young stallion would be several years into masturbation by this age as part of his normal growth.

It’s good I was Spike’s first ejaculation experience ~~and not Gabby~~ for reinforcement purposes. Now he will start to associate me with the pleasurable state of mind that comes with the action, making the rest of his conditioning much easier.

Observations:
The bulbous head seemed to pulse right before ejaculation. The nodules stiffened slightly, their erectile tissue hardening. What’s the purpose? Stimulation? Similar to feline? There was a noticeable scent, but it is hard to describe. His body tensed, similar to a flinching response but apparently more pleasurable. After ejaculation, the bulbous nodules seemed to quiver slightly, and the penis went flaccid over a 1 minute period. He described it as sensitive after the ejaculation, similar to an equine’s refractory period.

Entry 2:
Getting this semen off my fur is a nightmare. Going to have to investigate proper cleaning methods. Ask Rarity?

Entry 3:
Removal failed until the semen dried, at which point a fine fur comb was easily able to remove the flakes from my fur. I collected the dry semen for later analysis. I will avoid getting it in my fur in the future, but knowing there is an effective method is re-assuring. I’m confident that if needed I could rapidly dry and then remove the semen via magic. Perhaps I should compose a spell for this?

Friday, April 10th, 15NMR:
Entry 1:
Success! I managed to extract the semen and collect it in a standard 50 ml stasis vessel. This time, I watched for visual and tactile clues that I had recognized from yesterday’s attempt. Specifically, the tightening and slight twitching of the shaft of his penis during my stimulation. I’m excited to get the sample under a microscope. Spike was clearly relieved that it had gone well, and even seemed to enjoy the extraction slightly more this time.

I opted for the shirtless visual stimulation again, and once again encouraged him to look at my breasts. Notably, I found this oddly stimulating as well. It’s probably my exuberance at finally getting the sample, but I would be remiss if I didn’t make a note documenting my half of the experience. I’ve never had a pony stare at my naked breasts, and I could almost feel his eyes on me. I’ll have to ask him what he was imagining later.

The stimulation time was slightly shorter than yesterday (29m:11s). This time I was able to take rough measurements while I stimulated him. His penis is almost the length of my forearm when fully erect, and appears tapered. The base is as thick as my balled fist, while the rough bulbous tip is about as thick as my index and middle fingers pressed tightly together. The little nodules, which I will call soft-spikes, are slightly bigger than 1 mm in diameter, and about 3 mm tall when erect. They are soft bumps, 1 mm tall before ejaculation, even when the rest of the penis is fully erect. There is no medial ring, but the soft tissue across the top hardens into a stiff textured ridge that runs the length, likely to provide stimulation for the partner. Spike also claims that pressure across the ridge is particularly pleasurable. He doesn’t have much to say about stimulation of his soft-spikes, only saying they “feel weird but good” when they’re engorged.

The amount of semen collected was 25 ml, slightly more than an average stallion (according to the literature I’ve found on the subject). Some was lost, sticking to my fur again, so I’d guess the total ejaculate was closer to 30 ml. The ejaculate is thick and white in the containment, and there are visible white strands that are forming within the fluid.

Entry 2:
The semen is nothing like pony semen. I’m beginning to doubt it would be viable in a creature that’s not a dragon. The sperm navigates towards heat using some unknown means of propulsion. There’s no visible flagella. The sample responded poorly to standard stasis spells, attempting to fuse with the magic coating the glass. Most of the viable sample was destroyed by this process before I could observe it under microscope.

Glass?
Light?
Magic?
Diffusion?

Saturday, April 11th, 15NMR:

Entry 1:

Spike had a date with Gabby today. I was uncharacteristically nervous about it. Side effect? I shouldn’t have He returned before dinner, and when I asked he stated that they just hung out by the lake all day. I have separately confirmed from Pinkie Pie that this was, in fact, the case. Spike hasn’t been known to lie to me, but something makes me unsure.

Entry 2:

Sample extraction was commenced after dinner. It went well. There was a similar amount of sample extracted, 24.5 ml, and the extraction time was shorter (24m:54s). I think he’s getting more comfortable with the process. I know I am.

I re-applied the visual stimulus of my breast and the verbal encouragement. He didn’t need the encouragement to watch my chest again, but it seems to arouse him. I’ve made sure to start every session at exactly 9 pm. I believe consistency will be key in re-enforcing this behavior.

He appeared nervous after we were done, and asked how many more samples I’d need. I explained that I was having trouble with containment, and I’d really prefer not to go through the awkwardness of our first two sessions with a stranger, so I’d really appreciate it if he continued to donate his semen for the foreseeable future. I did not explain the other half of the experiment.

He said that he was happy to help out with my research, but that it all was very weird because I’m something of a sister and a mother to him, so he was having second thoughts about this. I didn’t answer him.

I feel guilty.

Entry 3:
Notably, after the newest sample was examined again, I found myself ~~aroused~~unable to sleep. I’d intended to sleep after putting it into stasis, but I couldn’t. I’ve been awake longer than usual. I keep imagining his penis, and remembering how it feels in my hand. It is warm, and I enjoy feeling it transition from the soft slug-like flesh that comes out between his scales to the long, hard member that eventually releases the semen into my grasp. It feels empowering? I try not to think about how he was little and cute long ago. He’s big and strong now, and that’s the Spike in my imagination.

I’m doing this because I have to.

~~He is I’ll be~~ He’ll be ~~oka~~ fine.

Sunday, April 12th, 15NMR:

Extraction and collection went well once again, but something important happened. Spike was ready exactly at 9, as expected. Stimulation took longer than expected (35m:04s) and the collected amount was lower than I’ve had before (12ml).

I asked Spike if he had any idea why that might be, and he confessed that he masturbated earlier in the day using his claws, directly into the toilet. He added that the heat from his ejaculate made the water bubble.

I asked him why.

He said that he felt like trying it. Then he rapidly mentioned that his claws don’t feel as good as my hands, and that he just wanted to see what it was like.

I had to think about this. I reminded him that he was wasting valuable research material by literally flushing it down the toilet. He timidly agreed. I think I was angry. I told him not to do that, and if he wanted to ejaculate off schedule then he should find me to assist. He assured me it was a one time thing, and that it didn’t feel anywhere near as good as me, so he’s not interested in doing it again. He’ll stay on schedule.

I believe him, but at the same time there’s a nagging feeling that I don’t. I felt betrayed, and oddly hurt.

Once I calmed down, I asked him if there was any way I could encourage him not to do that. He couldn’t think of one.

The interaction was strange. It felt more like when he was little again, and in trouble for accidentally burning a book binding. He’s an adult now, but he looked so cowed and listened to me so easily.

He trusts me so much. ~~I’m his only family, after all.~~

what am I doing?

Summary for the week of April 13th, 15NMR:
13th: 25 ml, 24m:17s
14th: 26 ml, 23m:58s
15th: 23 ml, 22m:30s
16th: 20.5 ml, 23m:42s (Claims he was dehydrated)
17th: 28 ml, 19m:30s (Ensured he wasn’t dehydrated)
18th: 27.5 ml, 19m:12s

Semen report for the week of April 13th, 15NMR:
The collected semen is consumed by the standard protective spells within hours. Without the spells, it’s within minutes. The method of neutralization appears magical in nature. The dragon sperm attempts to bind with any mineral, spellwork, or magical signature present. Glass storage is problematic, and the containment spells themselves are eventually neutralized by the sperm.

Method of sperm motility is believed to be magical in nature, but has yet to be discovered. The most effective method for storing appears to be non-magical refrigeration. Semen stored in an ice chest inside of the containment vessel appears viable for magical adhesion for days instead of hours.

Mundane cold slows the process significantly.

I spilled some of this on my chest when we started, and once or twice since. Should I be concerned?
-In tests, Alicorn blood treats the magical sperm like any other magical invader, it’s attacked by the autonomous immune system almost immediately. Unlikely to be side effects, at least for me. Unknown how griffon immune system would respond, if at all. Could be catastrophic if the sperm attempts to adhere to common cellular magic, disabling the basic cellular matrix that keeps most biology functioning. Spike has been carefully warned about the potential danger.

I need to design an experiment around this possibility immediately. Deceased tissue should have sufficient lingering spell forms to observe any initial effects.

His semen is not hot enough to make water boil, I’ve held it in my hands. However, it clearly does. I believe this is a magical reaction. Further investigation of this phenomena is forthcoming.

Observations for the week of April 13th, 15NMR:
Spike has grown comfortable with the extraction process. He has seen Gabby on three days, and has not pursued any sexual advances with her. He claims that he is not sexually attracted to her, only romantically. I do not understand, but I trust him. Mostly.

He watches me during the day now. I can feel his eyes linger on my chest when we talk. I encourage this behavior, and am wearing clothing that facilitates it. The other part of me he watches are my hands. Sometimes I catch him discretely measuring his claws against them. I’m proud of his curiosity, but he needs to be taking notes. I’ve counseled him on this multiple times in the past.

I can see his agitation grow as we approach session time, usually the signs start around 8 pm. Is this arousal? Or is he showing signs of distress? I have not asked him about it. He has not complained, and the behavior change is likely only noticeable by someone particularly close. Observable signs are minor, but include erratic movement, rolling shoulders, a slight change in the timbre of his voice, and constant nervous tapping with his claws.

I have lost sleep. Instead of sleeping, I think about what I’ve done. I have spent a little over three hours cumulatively holding his penis since we’ve started, and yet I think about it when I lay in bed. I enjoy the weird slipperiness of it, the way the skin slides sensuously as I stimulate him, the warmth in my hand, and more tactile observations. There’s also a particular scent that accompanies it.

I’ve taken, un-hygienically, to not washing my hands after extraction. The initial purpose was to let the residual semen dry so I could brush it off, but I now have a purely selfish reason instead of a practical one. Once the sample is safely put into storage, I smell my hands. His scent lingers on them making me feel warm and my heart race.

The spells I now use prevent the semen from adhering to my hands at all anymore, but the scent of his skin remains. I believe he has some subtle musk glands at the base of his shaft. Most mammals have them, so I expect dragons have something similar. Especially Spike with his pseudo humanoid morphology. At some point, I should do an intentional extraction of the gland fluid, but this isn’t a priority right now. The situation is not as anticipated, but I also don’t intend to stop. The practice ~~of smelling the~~ is harmless.

He called me mother yesterday. I am the worst mosis pony.

I have to continue this. I’m beginning to believe there is a very real danger hidden in his semen.

June

Author's Note

The entries for this month are neat and orderly. The pages are worn, as though someone has been re-reading this section. A few pages are bookmarked by dog ears.

June

Saturday, June 12th, 15NMR:
Entry 1:

Extraction went exceptionally well today (37ml). We finished quickly in 9m:13s. There was an issue with sample retention, which will take some journal space to explain. It’s been almost two months and I can see the results of repeated, regular stimulation. When he spends time alone with me around the family wing, he follows me.

His eyes never leave me. This morning, he worked up the courage to place his clawed hand on my chest when hugging me good morning. I pretended not to notice as he awkwardly felt me through my loose nightgown with shaky hands. He was clumsy, and I was glad for the thick fabric that separated his sharp claws from my flesh.

I need to note that this was the first time he’s attempted to or been allowed to touch me like this. I’m confident this novel pseudo-sexual contact kept him agitated all day; elevated to his fidgety state of arousal usually reserved for after 8 pm. Today, neither of us had any plans to leave the family wing of the castle and so I wore my nightgown all day long. I almost felt like he was hunting me as he followed me from room to room, pretending to do some menial task as his eyes trained on my gown, searching gaps in the cloth to spy on my otherwise naked flesh. I'm sure he saw something of my body. I am not entirely sure what. All I know is that the gown was loose, and his eyes are sharp.

Perhaps I’ve taken this too far? He can keep his calm and act normal when others are around, but today I’m not sure if he would have. We both acted in a novel way. Would he have been as obviously stalking me if Applejack was visiting? Rarity?

Gabby?

They are still dating, and he meets her regularly. I trust him, but I also pay special attention to his produced semen amounts on those days. He knows not to waste his semen. He also knows his ejaculate could hurt her.

Importantly, he knows that I’m immune.

I made very sure he understood that, so he wouldn’t think he was hurting me during the occasional mishap. Somehow, the mishaps keep happening. Today’s mishap was a simple one, but it has complicated things much further.

I pulled his pants and shirt all the way off during extraction, and made him stand with one leg on a table so I could observe his underside during the stimulation and ejaculation. His body is fascinating, and he’s incredibly ~~doci~~ ~~obedie~~ helpful.

I’ve fully undressed him for extraction before, but this time was different somehow. Maybe it’s because of how he groped me in the morning. I think the contact left the both of us ~~at an unexpected~~ a little on edge.

I’ll admit that I caused the mishap. When I was stimulating him, he couldn’t see my breasts. Out of curiosity, I pressed my breast to his raised leg, and gently rubbed it up and down.

He immediately reacted, his claws gripping into the table and marring it. More importantly, he ejaculated as well. I managed to collect most of it while maintaining contact between my breast and his leg. After his slightly longer than normal moment of releaserecord duration of orgasm?, his soft-spikes seemed to pulse more aggressively than normal and he put his leg down before quickly turning to me. The action was impulsive on his part, and no malice was meant, but his still dripping penis ended up sliding across my face. The soft-spikes brushed through my facial fur, ~~and they felt~~.

I smelled it. I couldn’t help it, and the sensation was overpowering. Something about the scent of his semen, his musk, the soft-spikes on my face, and the agonizing reality that he’d been following me all day like a lost puppy for that tiny moment of relief he got from physical contact made me feel ~~sa~~ ~~emp~~ ~~arou hot~~ something.

I stood up, and we kissed. I need to write that on its own line so I can read it by itself:

We kissed.

I don’t know what to think. He didn’t know what to think. It lingered, and then neither of us said anything after. He left, leaving his clothes on the table and without cleaning up. I stayed. The sample didn’t make it into the ice box until much later, and almost certainly has advanced signs of degradation.

~~I’m not analyzing it tonight, and it will likely degrade by tomorrow.~~

What have I done?

Entry 2:

I tried to talk to him. He’s locked himself in his room. I understand the choice, and don’t begrudge him for it. I haven’t washed up. I can’t until it dries. I’m locked in my room.

I can still smell him.

I made another mistake. I’ve never done this before, at least not like this. I dare not put this in a research journal, but this has already gone beyond just research; it’s at least a private record.

I touched myself. I used the very hand that I stimulated him with not two hours ago. It was still covered in his scent. That hand has brought both of us to orgasm today. Three times now for me.

My night has been filled with memories of purple scales, strong claws, his fleshy warm penis, undulating soft-spikes, and the surprise kiss. I’m covered in sweat, tangled up in my sheets, and burning up. Everything is shaking like this is some sickening fever, except I don’t feel sick. I feel good.

Alarmingly good.

My hand is soaked with myself and I’m writing with magic so I don’t forget what this feels like. It’s agonizing. It’s hot. Underneath the overpowering stench of sex, I can still smell him. I can still feel him.

I’m not rational. I know it. I need ~~h~~ more. I don’t want to stop. I don’t want this feeling to end. It’s euphoric, and I feel ~~insalisex~~.

I can’t~~--~~I’m doing it again. I hope he doesn’t hear me.
~~4~~
~~I can't stop~~
~~VI~~ 9? ~~10?~~
I've lost count

., _ _ _-_-_______It hurts, but I deserve it.

Sunday, June 13th, 15NMR:

Entry 1:
Spike had planned a date with Gabby today. He hasn’t left his room. She came by to ask about him, and I told her that he wasn’t feeling well, but I’d send him along as soon as he was doing better. She smiled and thanked me.

She’s such a good ~~griffon~~ hen-friend. I’m an awful dragon mom.

~~I should never have started this experiment.~~

It’s necessary. The findings are alarming. He’s probably able to breed with any fertile female that has a magical signature. Gabby wouldn’t survive the pregnancy. ~~I am saving her life.~~ I am saving her life.

~~And am ruining ours.~~

I’m sore. I don’t want to write that, but I should record it somewhere. Last night Doing that was a mistake.

Entry 2:
He came out for dinner. I made him gem encrusted flan for desert. He didn’t say anything and wouldn’t look at me, but he ate the flan.

After dinner, I asked if he wanted to skip tonight. He fidgeted, and didn’t give me an answer. I told him Gabby came by. That’s when he started talking. I told him to visit her tomorrow.

The conversation felt normal. We didn’t acknowledge what happened. After he helped me clean the table, he asked if I still needed the usual sample today.

I told him that I mishandled the sample yesterday, and another would be appreciated but he doesn’t have to. He didn’t ask why.

We decided that we will stick to our normal routine. Normalcy is probably the best option.

Entry 3:

Extraction went well, and there were no issues with retention. 34m46s / 12ml.

I know he masturbated. His penis was visibly chaffed from his scaled hands. The sample amount was clearly affected. I didn’t say anything to him about it.

~~Who am I to scold him for that now?~~

Monday, June 14th, 15NMR:

Entry 1:
Extraction went well. There were no mishaps. 38 ml, 14m:52s.

Entry 2:

Sample analysis is progressing. Sperm motility is confirmed magical in nature, hence the lack of external cell characteristics. Each individual sperm cell appears to be a magical capsule, not too dissimilar from synthetically produced magical medicine. Just much, much smaller.

The apparent boiling in water is actually magical rupture as the cells attempt to fuse with the natural magic of clean water. I haven’t tried mixing it with other fluids yet, but I can probably retain it in a non-magic potion. I can use the standard reverse magia-regia potion used for non-magical potion filler.

Alicorn biology seems particularly resilient to this form of, well, I can only call it an attack. When I place a drop of my blood into the sample, the sample is rapidly drained of magic as the sperm cells fruitlessly attempt to merge with my potent magical signature. It’s instant neutralization, which I am grateful for as the next experiment went quite different.

I placed a drop of it on a dead fruit fly. The fruit fly, as expected, melted. The magic inside of the sperm cells is trying to merge with an egg cell, and expects some reciprocal spell signature. I can only assume compatible spell signatures are found in female dragons. Reproduction on the cellular level seems vastly different from any other known species even though the macro action of conception via heterosexual insemination appears outwardly the same. Study of a female dragon would be helpful, but I don’t have one available.

In nature, dragons do things by force. Their social hierarchy is determined by strength. If they want something, they take it and destroy anything in their way. It appears this is replicated on the cellular level during their reproduction. I can only assume the usual mating activity is much the same, less loving than ponies and more forceful in nature. ~~I am glad Spike doesn’t have to live like that~~. The implications are intriguing. Are dragons a naturally occurring species, or were they created somehow?

I can’t imagine that Spike is the first dragon to want to have intercourse with a non dragon partner. I can, however, imagine that all the previous non-dragon partners died painfully. Dragons don’t keep records, and neither do the deceased. I’m sure there’s more than one skeleton hidden in a cave in the dragon lands, and the thought haunts me.

My initial concern was that Gabby wouldn’t survive bringing an egg to term. I’m now convinced that she wouldn’t survive the act of insemination, let alone make it to conception and gestation. That’s assuming his advances aren’t violent to begin with. Some of the physical sexual traits of dragons are also making more sense.

A protected, fully internal penis would prevent accidental discharge, and protect the delicate organ during adolescent fights. The slow development of dragon sexual desire (as demonstrated by Spike’s lack of masturbation) keeps adolescent dragons from experimenting, and therefor causing unnecessary accidents. I do not yet know what purpose the bulbous tip and the soft-spikes serve, but I’m sure they are part of the equation.

Would Spike have even pursued a sexual relationship with Gabby? I assumed he would have, as I think of him like a pony. He is not a pony. I love him, and he is Spike, but he is not a pony. He even told me that he had no sexual interest in her, only romantic. Perhaps dragons by nature aren’t particularly sexual beings, unlike ponies?

~~I may have caused~~

I can fix this.

Tuesday, June 15th, 15NMR:

Entry 1:

Extraction went well. 37 ml, 13m:32s.
Spike is a good ~~kid~~ ~~son~~ ~~bro~~ assistant.

July

Author's Note

The notes from this section are mostly written neatly, with impeccable handwriting. Only a few entries are dog eared and of note. Those entries, however, appear somewhat hastily written.

July

Thursday, July 23rd, 15NMR:
Entry 1:
Extraction went well today. Over 60ml was recovered, even with a series of mishaps in sample retrieval. I’m not sure that time of stimulation is a relevant measurement today, the extraction process was complicated. My carelessness resulted in a number of issues, and I have much to consider.

I don’t know why I did it, but I wore the nightgown again. It had been over a month. I like the nightgown. It’s comfortable. It’s a roomy loose robe, and I don’t have to worry about undergarments. We had nothing on the schedule for the day, and since I didn’t have to go out, I stayed in the family wing of the castle. Spike didn’t have to stay with me.

He chose to stay with me.

When he saw me wearing the nightgown in the morning, he paused, almost like he’d seen a ghost. I asked him if he was okay. He just said that he’d been thinking about the gown. I didn’t think about what I said, and blurted out “Oh, like I’ve been thinking about that kiss?” I was an idiot. Why did I say that?

He stared at me then, impassively. I covered my mouth and apologized.

He just kept quietly staring at me. He didn’t acknowledge what I’d said at all. He then asked me if we could stop.

I asked what he meant.

He said that he wanted to stop the research. That he couldn’t handle doing this much more, and that Gabby deserved better from her drake-friend. That it was cheating.

I told him that it wasn’t cheating. That we needed to finish the research. That the extractions were medical in nature.

Spike asked if his semen was really dangerous, and if I was actually immune, or if this was a strange lie. I told him it was dangerous, and I was immune. I felt betrayed by his question and also bad at the crestfallen look on his face. He didn’t trust me, and he thought he was a monster, so I assured him he wasn’t. We hugged. I tried to support him. I tried to be his mother or sister or something. I just needed to be there for him. But his claws wandered inside my robe.

He touched my breasts. I didn’t stop him. ~~That wasn’t~~I didn’t know what I was feeling.

It was an odd hug. He groped at my chest with his large, scaled claws for ten minutes or more while I gently pet the back of his spines. ~~It was comforting for both of us, but it was~~ After it was over, he timidly asked if I could help him ejaculate off schedule today. It was the first time he’d taken me up on the offer.

I got an empty stasis container while he sat quietly at the dining table. When I came back, he was staring blankly over it. I had him turn around in the chair and unbutton his pants. I performed the extraction where we eat our breakfast. He had his claws on my shoulders for the duration.

It was 30ml, and it took me 4m:7s.

He called me beautiful when we were done. His eyes still watched me, and he still looked hungry when I took the vial to the semen storage fridge. Usually ejaculation ends his arousal, but this time it did not.

The extraction wasn’t clinical like it had been before. It didn’t feel like a medical procedure. I’d just helped him to masturbate. I’d wanted to kiss him again, but I didn’t ~~dare~~. Instead we just had breakfast. We ate oats and honey and amber just minutes after he’d ejaculated in the kitchen. He didn’t even leave the chair where the deed was done.

We talked about the day. I had some tests to run, some paperwork to do, and some books to catch up on. He had been planning to go into Canterlot proper and shop around, but now he didn’t feel like it. Instead, he lingered. It was like before. He followed me from room to room, his eyes never leaving me.

He didn’t even pretend to do house work this time. My heart wouldn’t stop hammering. I was so nervous. I could feel him just watching me until I was sitting down to start my paperwork. He walked right up to me and gently placed his hand on my shoulder. I wasn’t sure how to respond.

He slowly slid my nightgown over my shoulder and down to the chair.

I didn’t stop him.

He asked me to help him ejaculate again. I asked him to get an empty stasis container for me. From the outside, I’m sure the exchange sounded calm, like we were going over any other checklist. Internally, though, I was terrified. I’m sure he was as well. Something had changed with us today.

~~I blame the night gown.~~

When he returned with the vial, I was still holding a pen and sitting down. I hadn’t moved a muscle. I took the vial as he stood next to me and unzipped his pants. I remember grabbing his penis and being as fascinated by it as I always am. Like usual, the warm pink length throbbed in my hand. Unlike usual, he was already erect when we started, and it was still slick from last time. Even his soft-spikes were still erect, giving his fully erect penis an alien and dangerous look. He hadn’t cleaned up at all.

It was smooth and sticky when I grabbed it, tightly lacing my fingers around the erect ridge line of tissue that ran down the top.

The extraction took 9m:39s. I collected 13 ml. His penis felt particularly warm to the touch. I did not have an instrument available to accurately estimate its temperature, and the fluid that coated it might have been altering my tactile perception.

He had his claw on my breast the whole time, gently squeezing it. I didn’t even notice when he grabbed m. I only noticed when he pulled away from my naked flesh, leaving my breasts feeling the cold nip of the air instead of his warm, scaled palm.

As soon as it was done, I asked him to store it. I needed to think about what I was doing and how I was doing it. The experiment has gone off the rails. We are off schedule. I’m not sure the semen we extracted is going to be viable for experimentation in the evening.

~~This is what I~~ asked ~~offered to him~~

When he returned, he returned with another empty vial. Neither of us said anything. He just held it, and looked at me.

I flushed. I could feel his hungry gaze on me as I worked at my paperwork while he nervously passed the vial between his claws, playing with the delicate glassware in his claws like one plays with a pencil between their fingers. I couldn’t focus, and I’m sure some signatures ended up in the wrong place. I was anxious that he might get impatient.

As I signed the last bit of it, I leaned back and stretched after being hunched over the desk for so long. He watched intently, and I realized that I’d never returned the nightgown to my shoulders. I’d been bare from the waist up since the extraction.

Startled at my negligence, I pulled my gown back up as though I had meant to wear it like that. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t seem to notice. His gaze continued to drink me in. It was ~~almost unnerving~~ distracting.

Next, I moved to the couch to read. I lay down with my book, “The history of Ants, and other small things”, and he sat on the other side, just past my feet.

I thought I had an escape through literature.

Instead, he passed me the vial.

23m:11s, 16ml.

He took the vial back to storage, and brought back another. We didn’t say anything during the process. As he settled into the bottom of the couch he grabbed the hem of my gown, and gently pulled half of it to the side. His clawed hand trailed up my leg, from my ankle to my thigh.

I wasn’t going to take off my pants. I was never going to take off my pants.

That thought wasn’t enough for me to stop him from lifting the other half of the night gown.

I read. I can’t remember anything that I was reading. The words ran through my eyes and to my brain, then straight somewhere else. Instead I listened to him breathe. He was rasping, drawing in long hungry breaths like some kind of ancient beast.

He kept his hands to the outside of my legs, but his eyes…

He was much less of a gentleman with his eyes.

I’m honestly not sure how much of the day was passed like this. At this point, I was convinced that his rapt attention was fair in a way. I’d held his penis for over thirty hours, an even taken notes on it. What was two or three of him observing ~~my~~ me?

He stopped me just as I put the last book down and reached for the nightgown to put it back where it belonged. I was startled. He handed an empty vial to me, and nervously put his claws back on the outside of my bare thighs, bracing the open gown to either side and leaving me bare and exposed. ~~He gently pulled~~ ~~I didn’t~~ I allowed him to observe.

3m:12s, 27ml.

Some of it spilled. ~~It was~~

After that, nothing of note happened until the regular collection time.

24m:02s, 13ml.

I only used verbal and visual stimulation. ~~I tried to~~

~~We~~

Entry 2:

I can’t sleep. We’ve crossed a threshold. He hasn’t done more than touch my thighs and look, but we were so close to so much more. We collected too much today. I kept the last vial. We don’t need it. I really only need a few ml a day now that I’ve properly stabilized the containers and found a non-reactive suspension solution. Why do I keep pushing for more?

The experiments are proving me right. I’ve gotten some griffon cells from an ethically cultured cell line, ordered through normal means. That kind of material is far more publishable than Alicorn Blood or Dragon Semen.

The sperm attacks it. It doesn’t create anything viable with the cells I have available, but it destroys the cells on contact. I don’t expect griffon egg cells to fare any better. Skin contact would probably feel hot to the touch at first. A drop would be quite painful to a griffon. More than a ml or so would leave a noticeable burn. The gouts of 30 ml or more semen he can ejaculate at once?

It would melt flesh.

I need to run a few more experiments, but he can’t be with Gabby. He can only be with Dragons.

or me

It feels warm to the touch when I handle it without protective spells. It’s viscous. Sticky. It smells enticing. The stringy formations inside seem to cling together within the carrier fluid. I should try taking samples of the fluid with minimal sperm.

I’ve researched a method that works with stallions. I think it should work for a dragon.

reminder: check if dragons have a traditional prostate and if it can be stimulated rectally.
double reminder: check if that applies to Spike.

Entry 3:

I really can’t sleep. It’s almost dawn. This should probably be under tomorrow’s entry, but I spent the night ~~mast~~ digging through the few dragon anatomy books I could find. ~~Dried dragon semen tastes peppery, it turns out, but the smell remains earthy~~.

Anyways, the answer is yes.

Friday, July 24th, 15NMR:
Entry 1:

Collection went well today. No mishaps, even though we were both exhausted.

38 ml, 12m:10s.

We didn’t talk about yesterday.

Saturday, July 25th, 15NMR:
Entry 1:

Gabby visited today. Watching them interact made me feel sick. I had to leave. He loves her. She is doting. She brought griffon scones for us both. Spike loved them. I did not enjoy the rocks. She brought a normal scone for me, in case the griffon scone wasn’t to my taste.

She’s nice, considerate, and affectionate. She’s great. I should be happy for him.

~~I imagined her face melting off when he~~

I needed some space.

Entry 2:

Gabby left. He asked to stop the experiment again. He begged me. He cried. I told him what I’ve found about his semen. How he could melt her.

He’s agreed to continue the experiment.

Entry 3:

40 ml, 7m:21s.

Collection was perfectly normal.

September

Author's Note

There are only three dog eared entries in this section. Some of the ink is smudged. The top corner of September 24th has been ripped off.

September

Sunday, September 24th, 15NMR:
Entry 1:

I have enough data that I’ve compiled trends. Here is a summary of the relevant identified trends.

Observation: When Spike spends time observing me, semen extraction is more fruitful, and sperm density is up to 50% higher within the semen.
Hypothesis: Spike produces more semen when aroused, specifically the sperm component.
Observation: Stimulation times are shorter (as low as 2m:12s) when Spike is provided tactile stimulation.
Hypothesis: Ejaculation is a physical response to stimuli, but one driven by an emotional state. I believe I could drop the time further if I ~~allow~~ ~~encour~~.
Observation: Spike has a slight boost in semen production on days he spends with Gabby.
Hypothesis: Even if he denies it, he experiences some level of sexual arousal from her.
Observation: Sperm motility is strongly correlated with his diet. More gems = more sperm movement.
Hypothesis: The magical nexus of a dragon sperm cell has a thaumatic mineral component, of which gems are known to be high in.
Observation: Sperm viability for magical fusion is greatly varied depending on the type of target cell, even within the target organism. I have not observed a successful fusion, but I have seen partial fusions with deceased cell structures from fruit flies. Wings take the longest to dissolve, while internal structures dissolve immediately.
5.Hypothesis: The sperm cells are tuned for a suitable magical matrix to match with, likely a dragon egg cell. As magic power decreases, fusion rate increases. However, viability for fusion goes down, resulting a more energetic release, until a threshold is crossed and there is no reaction. A successful impregnation likely relies on low magical power and a suitable cell matrix. My original hypothesis of Spike being fertile with most females is likely completely incorrect. Just these two variables require very specific conception conditions, which he is unlikely to find outside of a dragon’s reproductive system.

I suppose I should be happy that there wont be too many hybrid dragon ~~pony~~ griffin children running around, but something about this realization hurts me. Spike is still my ===== friend, and I want him to have a happy life. He’s been raised to find Equestrians attractive, not dragons. That’s my fault. ~~And Rarity’s.~~ Much more my fault over the last few months.

I don’t know what to do with these findings just yet. There’s still more to learn. He’s still very much a danger to Gabby. I need to make sure he doesn’t do anything with her.

Entry 2:
Extraction and retention went well. There were no mishaps. 6m:22s, 48 ml. We started exactly on schedule, as has been the case for the last month. ~~He thanked me.~~

Personal note:
I’m doing it again. That thing where I think about it too much. I’ve grown to enjoy holding his penis. I love the warm, smooth sensation in my hands. I love being able to feel his heartbeat, of knowing how sensitive it is. I love the sound he makes when I look at him and softly lower my eyelids. It’s tactile and pleasurable in a way that’s ultimately only describable by calling it sinful decadent. I feel like he’s mine. Is that wrong of me? I hatched him. In a way, he is mine. In that moment of release where he groans and his eyes flicker, and he’s wracked with pleasure, that’s me. I did that to him. That moment is mine and his.

I’ve also identified, just visually, the slight wet sheen that coats my hand through the protective spells. It’s definitely some sort of musk excretion from a scent gland, just like I’d thought. The gland is probably at the base of the penis. I had assumed it was slight lubrication from his penis being mostly internal. Perhaps I am wrong and it is. I wouldn’t say that it smells inherently good. It might even be considered offensive. But I’ve grown to associate it with him, and the feel of him in my hands. Scent is a powerful mnemonic tool and sexual contact is a powerful stimul.

Entry 3:

It’s late again. I did it again. Not an uncountable number of times. Just twice. I’m practicing self restraint, at least physically. My mind won’t stop thinking of him. The smell. The look in his eyes. The noises he makes. ~~I want him to kiss me again.~~. I have extra semen. He’s been producing so much. Not as much as a two months ago when I wore the nightgown.

We have nothing planned for tomorrow. ~~I shouldn’t.~~

I should experiment with this form of stimulation. I won’t ask him to do anything. I’ll just see what he does. I used to wear it all the time. I’m sure it won’t be a big deal. He’s probably over that.

~~And if not, then I’ll have~~

Monday, September 25th, 15NMR:
Entry 1:
96 ml was collected. I did not record stimulation times. I assisted him four times, and he was still able to produce during the regular extraction.

In the morning, he saw me in my nightgown. I was worried he ~~didn’t like it~~ was unhappy, because he frowned. I chose to ignore the expression, and greeted him the way I usually do.

He returned the hug, careful to keep his claws around my back. We made it through breakfast just fine, although his eyes watched my chest. When I asked him his schedule, he coughed. Apparently, he had intended to spend some time researching dragon traditions at the Canterlot Library. He said that he wasn’t sure if he felt like going all the way to Canterlot anymore.

I suggested he use our library for research. I know he’s read those books at least twice, and he knows it as well. Still, he agreed.

He was nicer this time. He asked me to lower the robe to my waist after breakfast and to help him ejaculate. I agreed, but mandated that he’d be getting the vials today.

I did say vials, and not vial. We both knew what the day was going to be like.

The first time was somewhat normal. He watched me, and I watched him until he came. We smiled. I even joked that it was a lot.

He said there was going to be more as he took the vial away.

He returned with another.

We moved to the library, where we spent most of our day. I read, and he watched. At least he pretended to hold a book in his hand. I didn’t understand how it couldn’t be boring. I wasn’t doing anything. He’s seen my chest plenty by now. And yet, he just kept watching.

I asked him why, and he said that he loved beauty.

That definitely made me blush. Of course, when I blushed he asked me to help him again. This time he touched my breasts. His claws are sharp, but he’s gentle. I’ve never had him squeeze like that before. He wasn’t trying to be coy about the situation. He simply grabbed and then began firmly massaging me.

~~I liked it a lot.~~

The next time, I was lying on the couch again. It had been a book later for me. He asked, actually asked, if I would take the nightgown off.

~~I wanted to say yes, but~~ I’d promised myself that I wouldn’t do that. I told him that I wouldn’t, but I might have said it unconvincingly.

He asked if he could at least lift it. I didn’t answer, but I did shift my legs. I let one drape off the couch. The nightgown lifted quite a bit on its own. My face turned bright red, I’m sure.

I did not correct my wardrobe malfunction. ~~He did.~~ Spike re-adjusted the other side, revealing the rest of me.

Spike observed me while I read my book. I don’t even remember the title. After I put the book down, he handed me a vial. He was already extremely erect. Extraction did not take long.

After it was done, he asked me again to remove my nightgown. He was forceful with his request. I told him to return the vial to storage.

Spike was angry when he left, and my heart was hammering. I’d never seen him like that. I wasn’t afraid, never of Spike, but I was ~~incredibly aroused~~ more alert than normal. He was still somewhat passionate on his return, and he’d brought another vial.

I was starting another book, and I’d returned to a sitting position while re-adjusting the nightgown to properly cover me. He told me that I’d promised to help him, and that he’d already seen the top and bottom of me separately. He just wanted to see them at the same time.

I told him in no uncertain terms that I would not be removing the nightgown. I’ll admit, I was growing cross with his determination, and perhaps answered a little more forcefully than I usually would.

He reached out for me, and I simply put the book in my face.

Spike grabbed my book.

He grabbed my book.

I stared at him uncomprehending as he held the book up like I was some child and he was playing keep away from me. I had no words for the confusion that wracked me. On reflex, I stood up and reached for the book.

He used his other arm to pull me close to him, and I suddenly realized what he’d done. We were pressed together in a side hug, both my arms up and my chest pressed tightly to his. I was reminded that he was larger than me. I was looking up at him.

He told me that if I wouldn’t take the nightgown off, then he would.

~~I tried to say no~~

I let him.

I’m still reeling from the sensation. I don’t know what to do anymore. I promised I wouldn’t take my pants off. A nightgown is not pants, but that’s not what I really meant. What I mean is that he’s my family. Brother, son, I don’t know, but he’s my family. I never meant for it to get that far.

But it did.

He gave me back the book, but kept the nightgown. He smelled it, pressing it into his face and taking a breath while I sat back down on the couch in a haze. Then, he watched me again.

~~I was mercilessly wet.~~

I read my book, once again failing to retain anything. I was lost in thoughts that I can’t remember. It all seems like a dream.

Unscheduled ejaculation occurred two more times.

The fourth time, he touched me. Not my breasts, but my hands. He kept his hands over mine while he helped me touch him. He guided one of my hands to his thighs.

I’d been focusing on his penis, but he has more erogenous zones. I need to be more considerate.

Scheduled extraction went well.

Entry 2:
Today was a mishap. I cannot have another day like today. I don’t know what came over me. I’m sitting in bed, staring at the wall trying to process it. I knew the nightgown would cause trouble, but I hadn’t anticipated how much.

Well, I don’t have to worry about that anymore. He kept the damned thing. He circled my naked body all day like some ravenous predator hunting a wounded animal, and I let him.

I let him.

No, I encouraged him. This is my fault. I did this to him, and to me. What if we’d had a visitor to our wing? Starlight might have come by looking for advice, any of the girls, a maid with a castle emergency, any number of things. This situation is untenable. I can’t have another day like today.

~~I’ll make a real mistake.~~ We’ll get caught.

I need to keep him under control. I created this side of him, so I need to manage it. I’ll think of something.

I need to purchase a new nightgown. I don’t think I’m getting that one back.

Tuesday, September 26th, 15NMR:
Entry 1:
I talked to Spike today. I told him that yesterday was too much. We can’t have another day like yesterday. He seemed to understand.

~~He asked if I liked it.~~

We came to an understanding of sorts. We have rules now. ~~I don’t expec~~ I think the rules should help us keep this under control.

He can touch me, if he asks, above the waist during an extraction. Neither of us will be taking off any clothing below my waist during a session again. We only have ~~int~~ ~~se~~ ~~grop~~ ~~nak~~ exciting days once a week at most. Otherwise he’s limited to the once a day scheduled extractions.

I know it’s a little controlling of me, but what else am I to do? I can’t let him become some kind of sexual predator. ~~He’s my~~ I love him.

Entry 2:
Extraction went well. 43 ml.

October

Author's Note

Some of the pages in this section have coffee stains. The brown ring is unmistakable. The handwriting switches through several pens, as though the author kept losing them.

October

Wednesday, October 5th, 15NMR:
Entry 1:
Gabby came over today. She was nice, as usual. She brought more scones, and some gems done up like flowers. There was a fire ruby in the bouquet. Spike was head over heels.

I didn’t leave them alone this time. I haven’t lately. I don’t trust ~~Spike~~ ~~Gabby~~ them together at all anymore. He’s watching her like he watches me. His eyes trace her hands. He sneaks a peak at her tail when she’s not watching. I’m sure they almost kissed.

I can’t let this happen. He claims he’s not interested in her like that. I can see it in his eyes. I can see it from his agitation. I know him. I understand him.

He’s mine,.

This has to stop now. I need to call Fluttershy.

Entry 2:
Extraction was eventful. 46 ml was recovered, but only a carefully measured 10 ml was added to storage. It’s all I should need.

During extraction, I questioned Spike on his interest in Gabby. He was reluctant to answer at first, but became more forthcoming as we fell into our rhythm. He was surprisingly talkative just before his ejaculation.

Note to self: Spike is much more obedient when I am holding his penis. Keep this in mind if he acts out the need arises.

After the extraction was finished, I used the dead mouse I acquired from Fluttershy to demonstrate to Spike what would happen to Gabby should he sexually pursue her.

He has agreed not to sexually pursue her, and seems suitably chastised for his behavior today. I had him store the sample while I buried the half mouse remains, as per Fluttershy’s request to be as respectful as possible to the donated corpse.

~~I can’t trust him.~~

I trust him, but I need assurance.

Entry 3:
I spent the evening researching, and located what I was looking for. It’s an old spell that is used for recreation by some ponies in certain circles. Its history is far more nuanced. The spell was originally developed to prevent hired guards from impregnating the young noble mares they were guarding. It prevents ejaculation, or rather, the orgasm that is a precursor to ejaculation.

While dragons are highly spell resistant, I am intimately familiar with Spike’s magical signature. I can easily cast the spell on him, and remove it at will.

I will ask him tomorrow.

He will say yes. If not, I’ll ask Fluttershy for help with another demonstration.

Thursday, October 6th, 15NMR:
Entry 1:

He agreed to the spell without complaint, and with no convincing. Spike appeared exhausted, and claimed to have not slept either. He was horrified at the potential damage his semen could do. I explained that it’s not too different from his breath or claws, and he’s learned to control those around us ponies. Dragons have not evolved to live peacefully with equestrians, but he’s done a remarkable job. This is just the next hurdle, and I coached him to think of it like when he had to learn to not blow fire every time he sneezed. I explained that ~~once we can both trust him~~ once he’s ready, I’ll remove the spell.

The version I applied is a variation on the ancient original one, altered slightly to fit his physiology. We briefly tested it. Once applied, he can no longer display his penis. He claims that it stays completely limp, and is unresponsive. I asked, out of curiosity, if he still derives pleasure from observing my body.

He said yes.

I’ll have to observe how effective the spell is over the next few days.

Entry 2:
Extraction went well. About 52 ml was extracted. We will have to upgrade to the larger vials, as the current set only accurately measures liquids <50 ml in volume, and can only contain about 55 ml. I had been monitoring the trend in the data, and was prepared for this, although there was a spike in volume today. It was likely due to the spell.

I removed the spell with no issue. Once the spell was removed, we proceeded as normal. I had to coax his penis out by pressing my finger in between his scales a little. He claimed it felt “achy” and it certainly looked like he was relieved when I finally was able to wrap my hands around his length.

Stimulation beyond the regular extraction technique was not needed. He was more excited than usual, and my shirt stayed on. I’ll consider this a successful use of the spell, but I’m worried about the achy sensation he described. Some modifications to the spellwork may be needed.

I reapplied the spell as is after extraction was complete. We’ll use this spell for a week, and see how ~~he~~ we feel about it at the end of the week.

~~Entry 3:~~
~~This is cru unethical.~~

~~I guess I knew that.~~

Friday, October 7th, 15NMR:
Entry 1:
Today has gone well. Spike has been well behaved, and I didn’t have any concerns when he was out with Gabby. There have been no incidents.

Entry 2:
Extraction went well. He complained about the soreness again, but said it wasn’t that bad and it was better than worrying. 53 ml was extracted, and we are using the 100 ml stasis vials I prepared now.

After the spell was removed, I still had to manually extract his penis. I don’t mind getting my hands in there. There’s something ~~erotic~~ satisfying about ~~being inside him~~ being so close to him. I noticed a cavity, so I asked him about it.

Apparently his erect penis can extend into the cavity without being released from his scales. I asked if it’s stimulating when the cavity is filled. He said it’s not. Dragon physiology is incredibly interesting.

I let him grope my breasts during extraction. He’s been a good ~~boy~~ assistant.

Thursday, October 13th, 15NMR:
Entry 1: The spell is working. We have had no slip ups of note. The only concern I have is the aching feeling he describes when I remove the spell. He claims it doesn’t bother him much, but he brings it up every time. I am also aware of how sensitive his penis is, and I don’t want to cause him any pain.

I have grown familiar with extracting his penis. He even let me explore the cavity with my fingers. It is similar in texture and feeling to my vaginal cavity when I am aroused, although much larger and slightly smoother. I’d love to take proper measurements, but we’d need some sort of custom device for that. Note: Inflatable volume measuring balloon? Do they make something like that?

For now, I’ll have to let that mystery sit. Something more pressing has come up. I’ve noticed the Semen collected from days he was under the spell is more active. I’ve observed it adhering to the microscope slides, the glass container, the spellwork, literally anything it comes in contact with that’s physical or magical in nature. It’s harder to contain and keep viable.

I can only assume it’s more dangerous.

I continue to be comfortably immune. A drop of my blood still renders any sample I’ve exposed it to mostly inert. I must admit that I put some on my fingers. It’s warm to the touch, but nothing more.

~~I wanted to do a soft tissue test, but opted against it.~~

I performed an in vivo soft tissue test. It was pleasantly warm. ~~It tasted vaguely of cinnamon and salt.~~

Entry 2:

Extraction went well. 60 ml was recovered.

November

Author's Note

The handwriting has grown more sloppy. There are ink smudges here and there. At least one of the entries has a word drawn over several times, nearly ripping through the page with how many times the author traced it over and over again. The dog ears mark pages of interest, but even the rest is not up to the previous standards of neatness.

November

Saturday, November 12th, 15NMR:
Entry 1:
Everything about today was a mistake. I wish I could take it all back. I wanted to test the limits of the spell. We’d been in a rhythm for the past month. Spike hasn’t asked for help ejaculating off schedule since I applied the spell. I had assumed this was due to the spell’s effect. I now believe it was due to his ~~guilt~~ concern.

I actually canceled all my appointments for today, I hadn’t been able to get a day to ~~us~~ myself. I wore a bathrobe to breakfast, and nothing else, ensuring to tie the rope around the waist tightly. That rope was to be my pants. The rope wasn’t coming off.

I know how bad this looks in hindsight. Looking back on it, it wasn’t a very well thought out plan. I felt safer than I should have. The spell has been working, what did I have to actually risk? And he’d been such a good ~~bo~~ assistant. He deserved a treat.

When he saw the bathrobe, he actually groaned and put his claw over his face. He actually asked why I was doing this to him. I told him that I wanted to test the spell, to ensure it worked appropriately.

He told me that I really didn’t.

I ignored him and asked what he wanted for breakfast. We had pancakes. As expected, he watched me the whole time. I could see the now very familiar agitation in his body language.

The way his shoulder’s tensed, the way his breath went deep, how his nostrils flare as he breathes in more of me. Not to mention his change in demeanor. Spike gets just a little mean when he’s aroused. He’s still obedient, but he’s far more testy and argumentative. He’s also far more direct.

After breakfast, I had a very long backlog of books to catch up on, as is usual for my fleeting free time. I’d intentionally skipped the paperwork, the last couple times ~~I tried this~~ we had an off day, I wasn’t in the mindset to effectively sign legally binding documents.

I wasn’t surprised when he sat next to me while I read. I wasn’t surprised when he reached his arm over my shoulder, though I did stop reading. I was just holding the book in front of my face, not even pretending to look at the words as he slipped his claw around my shoulder, and then down the slit in the bathrobe by my chest.

He grumbled then, complaining that he felt tight. I asked if he had an erection tucked away in there. He said he didn’t.

I asked if I could check. what the hell was I think

The book ended up closed on the reading table, and I ended up ~~huggi~~ ~~grop~~ ~~mole~~ checking Spike. I took off his pants, and had him put a leg over mine so I could reach easier. He listened to me so easily. ~~He was desperate for anything I would give him.~~

He was practically burning under his scales. And he’d told the truth. He was limp inside there. My hand on his scaled slit felt oddly warm. I was curious if I could still stimulate him, so I tried from inside.

He made noises.

Noises.

I had him shift more to my lap so I could have easier access. His claws were wrapped gently around my arms, so he didn’t hurt me with them. He is heavy, but I’m tougher than I look.

~~It looked worse than it~~ The imagery was definitely pornographic. I was behind his ears, and I whispered some things to him.

I may have encouraged him further. We should have stopped there, but there were one hundred times we should have stopped before. So why would today be any different? It wasn’t.

We were both surprised when I pulled his dick out. It was soft, but I could feel it hardening. We both watched it silently. I encouraged him.

I called him a good boy again, right into his ear. I was so damned pleased with myself. So chock full of satisfaction that I’d pushed him out, through the spell. His dick was mine.

He started thrusting into my hand and whimpering like some puppy dry humping a leg. It wasn’t too different. I wasn’t thinking about measurements or science, or even his problem. I was riding the high of what was happening.

It makes me sick now. He’s my little Spikey. I used to bottle feed him. In the moment, though? I felt like a goddess. This big, powerful dragon was desperately humping my hand. I need to get over this. I need to accept this if I am going to document it properly.

The act was highly sexual. For both of us. And we admitted it. We’d been feeling this for a while now, but we said it.

I told him that I loved him. That he’d been good, and that I wanted him to be happy. I told him that he was a very attractive young dragon. That he was sexy. ~~That I had masturbated to him.~~

That I had masturbated to him.

He told me that he had masturbated to me as well. Just not recently.

Saying it to him, hearing it from him, writing it plainly here—it’s freeing in a way. I know it’s taboo, but I don’t care.

I couldn’t get him to finish, but it didn’t matter. We’d had our moment of intimacy. Intellectually, emotionally, if only for a moment we’d become one. And the sensation seemed to linger.

His cock wouldn’t go back in. It just hung awkwardly out, fully erect. He said it didn’t hurt. It just had a dull ache, but if I kept rubbing it that it might chafe. We took a break, and he slid off my lap and into the couch next to me.

He asked if he could remove the rope.

I said no.

He kneeled in front of me, and put his claws on my legs. I put my hands on his head.

We didn’t remove the rope from the bathrobe, but it was tied around my abdomen anyways. The rope didn’t matter. All he had to do was pull the fabric, and the bathrobe split where he wanted it to.

We crossed a new line again.

I’d never felt anything like that before. His tongue is long.

~~I’m terrible.~~

He’s a very devoted assistant.

He didn’t stop until I passed out. I can’t really describe how it went. I hardly remember, to be honest. I just sort of lost the ability to think for a while, and then the world faded out. When the world faded back in, I was lying on the couch gasping for breath. He was crouched over me on all fours like some animal, his still erect penis hanging lewdly down between us.

He’d moved the rope to my hands. I could have broken free, I’m easily strong enough. I didn’t, though. As he lowered down to cover me, I felt his naked scales against my body. He was so warm. I should have fought him. I should have resisted him somehow.

In the back of my mind I was ecstatic. There was a sick and heady satisfaction that I’d been playing with fire, and now I was going to get burned. A part of me was just gleefully screaming “I told you so!” to the rest of me, like some gloating asshole who correctly predicted a disaster.

I deserved what happened. I relished it. ~~I wanted it.~~

I’m so sorry. When he put his face to mine and blew heated breath across it, that was it. He felt like a raging fire. I completely lost what little control was left. I was still recovering from the disoriented state he’d left me in, and his claws held my hands together, and he was strong, and his weight was pinning me to the couch, and I was sloppy wet, and everything was so hot, and I was so dizzy, and I could ha’,.=####=.\____-__

I told him that he wouldn’t. He growled at me in response and actually snarled, teeth and all.

He did.

It’s not over. He didn’t finish. ~~As long as I don’t~~. The spell is holding. ~~I don’t know how long we~~ After an hour, I think, I begged him for a break. I promised him I’d do anything. He gave me half an hour. He’s sitting on the couch with my bathrobe balled up in his fist watching me write this update. I keep glancing at his eyes, staring at them. We’re both unabashed. ~~I told him that~~ When I’m done, the rope comes all the way off.

It’s still wrapped around one of my wrists, like a string around my finger reminding me of something.

I know it doesn’t mean anything anymore. But somehow, when I take it off, that’s it. I mean, it’s already gone way too far. But that’s

really

it.

Entry 2:
Collecti wa unsuccesful tod.ra

Entry 3:

It’s dark. He’s in my bed, finally asleep.

He looks so peaceful now. It reminds me of when he was little, and he was scared of the dark. He’d crawl into my bed and I’d wrap him in the warmest, comfiest hug I could. He’d be soothed, and fall asleep while I watched him.

I suppose this wasn’t much different, was it?

I’m numb. I can’t think.

Sunday, November 13th, 15NMR:
Entry 1:
Collection went well. 96 ml, on schedule.

Monday, November 14th, 15NMR:
Entry 1:
Collection went well. 98 ml, on schedule.

Tuesday, November 15th, 15NMR:
Entry 1:
Collection went well. 97 ml, on schedule.

Wednesday, November 16th, 15NMR:
Entry 1:
Collection went well. 99 ml, on schedule.

Entry 2:
I need to record the event properly. I wasn’t in any state to make a proper record. I’m still not. Reviewing my journal, it looks like any meaningful records stopped after the morning break.

I’m going to start with the easy things. I didn’t finish any books. I need a new bathrobe. We had to buy new couch cushions on Sunday. We did not eat lunch, but had a light snack for dinner. We missed the scheduled extraction time. I’m oddly very upset over this even though it’s probably the most inconsequential. We hadn’t missed a day until that day. This is a ruined perfect record. It’s almost as frustrating as the ruined perfect record of not fucking your son.

Now that that’s out of the way, on to the hard things.

~~I fucked Spike.~~ We had sex.

I know it was easy enough to gather from what I had managed to write down, but I wasn’t in the state of mind to properly document anything. I’m not going to strike that entry out, but be aware that I was not empirically recording data. I’m honestly probably still not, but if I wait too long it will be hard to remember the details.

~~And I don’t want to do it again just to take notes.~~

After the morning break, he asked me to take off the rope as a show of dominance, since he knew I had emphatically refused up until this point, even if it hadn’t really done anything to stop him from penetrating me earlier. I complied. I’m not entirely sure why, but I had promised him that I’d be ~~obedi~~ ~~a good~~ compliant if he allowed me a break, and he did. So I was.

The look on his face when I slipped it off and let it fall to the ground was intimidating; almost sneering. ~~He didn’t look anything like my little Spi~~ It was distrssingly erotic.

Then, he had me sit in his lap while he sat on the couch. We had penetrative intercourse in this manner for some time, and I was made to do the work while he watched my breasts and body. This was almost certainly another show of dominance. ~~In that position, his bulbous tip~~ We kissed. ~~I practically choked on his tongue, and~~ . The kissing was aggressive.

Once I was too exhausted to continue, he let me lie down on the couch again. While I rested, he brought us water and a salve. I drank, copiously, and he used his claws to give me something of a massage across my back with the salve.

This was highly pleasurable, and while intimate it was surprisingly not erotic. His capability as a masseuse is not to be underestimated. As I’ve previously noted, he’s quite strong.

We talked during this time. I told him that we couldn’t go back, and that this was absolutely cheating on Gabby and not anything like a medical procedure. He said he already knew that and he didn’t care anymore. I told him that this was both highly inappropriate and taboo, and we couldn’t tell anyone. He didn’t care. He told me that I’d broken him.

He told me how it felt. A month of being unable to cum, to even get properly aroused, except by my hands. Eight months of feeling my hands all over his dick. Hundreds of days. Liters of his semen drained by me. What was a few ml more at this point? I broke

I told him that he hadn’t ejaculated yet, that while this was wrong, it wasn’t actually sex. The spell was holding.I knew it was. I wasn’t

He said that it had been sex, and he was going to finish all over me.

I told him the spell would hold. It had so far.

He flipped me over somewhat roughly then, forcing me on my back. I didn’t resist. I didn’t even comlain. I just watched and experienced it while he crawled over me, and straddled my legs, placing his engorged dick on my abdomen. ~~I think I was smiling? Was I challenging him? I know it was my fault. It was all my fault.~~

I looked at it, fascinated by the bulbous tip, somewhat horrified and intrigued that it had fit so neatly inside of me. The soft-spikes were erect, making it look dangerous. That thing had filled me completely, exactly to my limit with the bulb planting inside and massaging me while he thrust. ~~I’d never been so satisfi~~I remembered the tingle when it slipped through my previously virgin lower lips, and I could feel my arousal flaring into an impossible need as I stared at it. All the while, I supported his weight on me.

It should have been around noon. He wasn’t done with me. ~~and I wasn’t done with him.~~

The realization that at best we were half way through the day made me whimper. At worst, we were a quarter of the way through.

When I whimpered he put his claws on my forehead, gripping me possessively. He told me that he was going to cum.

I whispered that the spell would hold. My voice trembled, and I stuttered.

His cruel response shattered the little part of me that was in denial. “Not when you break it.”

Of course. It certainly wouldn’t hold when I dispelled it. But that would invalidate the experiment of seeing the spell’s limits. At the same time, I wasn’t going to let that stop me. Something in me shivered, and I ~~was~~his knew I’d do it.

I told him I wouldn’t. I lied to him. He knew it was a lie. I knew it was a lie.

He told me I would.

I tried to resist. I really did. But when he slipped his claws around my head and slid them behind, he tilted my head upwards. Then he slid his dick forward.

I opened my mouth of my own accord. He didn’t have to say anything. ~~I really wasn’t being forced to do anyt~~I could smell him, and it was overpowering. I tasted myself on his dick before I tasted him.

The bulbous tip had a strange texture, and he pressed it back. Not far enough to choke me, but enough that I closed my lips around his dick and wrapped my tongue around the tip like a lollipop. He kept me there, gently rocking his tip back and forth as he slid across my chest.

I felt humiliated somehow. Degraded. It made my ears turn red and hot, and my legs quiver. I wanted more. This was just a taste. I was needful. I couldn’t take it. Minutes, hours, I don’t know. He just stared at me, eyeing me hungrily while rubbing his dick into my mouth. What broke me is when I thought I tasted cinnamon.

I realized that this was hurting him. He was trapped by this strange desire as much as me, and I was just delaying the inevitable. I knew it was going to happen so why was I fighting it?

I told him he won. ~~I was crying, but not because I was sad. It just felt so good to sa~~

He pulled his dick out of my sore mouth, and slid backwards. It looked unharmed, but I saw a speckle of white on the tip. ~~Had the spel~~l

He told me to do it.

I did it.

I watched, enthralled, as Spike’s ejaculation was immediate. He came all over my naked body, shivering and moaning with no build up. It was so sudden, so violent, so complete. It was far, far more than I’d seen him cum before. If I had to guess, it was over 200 ml that splashed over me in bursting spasms, but I don’t trust my observations in that moment. The warmth spread across my chest, up my chin, over my face, and even in my hair. It ran thickly down my sides, pooling on the couch.

The cum tingled. It felt like cinnamon tastes. My chest, my belly, and my face were coated in it. The smell was drowning me. I opened my mouth and tasted some. Salty cinnamon flooded my senses while he moaned in relief.

It was too much. Spike almost roared as the last few spurts splattered in my hair. He then took his claws and rubbed the thick cum into my fur. He massaged my breasts, my belly, my shoulders, everything he could reach while I stared numbly upwards. He painted me white.

I felt drained of emotion. He was elated; almost crying that it hadn’t hurt me and that he’d finally gotten his release.

The thought should have shaken me from my stupor, but it didn’t. I just watched as he used his claws to finger paint on me. His eyes drifted past me, and settled on the couch. His cum was burning holes in the cushion.

He laughed. I’m sure the euphoria of seeing me unharmed and finally getting his relief was overwhelming him. I smiled weakly and told him that I was, in fact immune, so he could stop worrying.

We kissed again. It was nice. It was loving.

He lay on me and wrapped his arms around me. I hugged him back, loving him as only I could while he took me again on the couch. The cushions melted underneath us. I held him. I comforted him. I coddled him until he found release again, the relief he needed. This time his comfort was found inside of me. ~~I’m in lov~~ ~~It was unlike anything I’ve experience.~~

~~My fur was disgusting, matted in his cum and my sweat but we didn’t care. Everything tingled, and blurred together and I lost count of the times and places and ways he took me. There’s still a few scorch marks on the floor, scattered across the house.~~

~~I now know why dragons live in caves.~~

~~We completely missed collection time, instead retreating to my bed. The semen tingled pleasantly, and I was in some sort of fugue state of physical euphoria. We kissed. We laughed. We touched each other and we had each other.~~

~~We broke every rule that day. We ruined the experiment. We ruined each other. And I’d do it again at the drop of a hat.~~~~I need to do it agai~~

But I have to fix something. It’s been a few days, and I haven’t stopped thinking about it. He was bad. I know he was hurt and desperate, and that I did it to him, but Spike needs more control. I’ll teach him that. We both need more control. And he needs to remember that I’m not his.

Ḥ̶̓͗̄Ē̴̫̋͊'̸̜̮́͜S̵̯̘̰̑̅̈́ ̵̞̊M̷͔̦͙̒̉̌İ̵͛̍͜Ǹ̴̨̪E̷̗͕̔̀̓

Thursday, November 17th, 15NMR:
Entry 1:
Collection went well. 102 ml, on schedule. Further collections will be with the 150 ml containers I have prepared. I am going to need a larger storage area.

I’m investigating the specific spell structure of his sperm, but progress is slow. ~~I don’t want to neutralize it.~~ For now, I will focus on the conditioning. He needs to learn how to properly control himself.

I have explicitly told him to control himself when he attempted to grope me today. He seemed angry, but he agreed. ~~We have not~~ There have been no further significant mishaps. I have purchased a new robe. This one does not open in the front.

December

Author's Note

The handwriting in these sections has grown wild. Two of the pages are fully torn out and then taped back in, as though the author wanted to destroy them but decided against it. As the dog eared entries progress, the formatting and handwriting deteriorate further.

December

Tuesday, December 9th, 15NMR:
Entry 1:
Gabby came by today. Spike has been trying to gently break up with her, but she hasn’t been receptive to that. She’s wondering why he’s more distant. Why he’s ignoring her and missing their dates.

I know why.

Spike avoided her today. When she arrived, he made sure to be unavailable. I kept her company. I’ve advised him to directly break up with her. He does not want to. I’ve told him that I will not do it for him.

Gabby is too good for ~~him~~ this. She brought treats again today. Butter and sapphire biscuits that she made herself. She had a blueberry one for me. It was delicious.

Spike and I haven’t done anything but the usual extraction since that day, but it was still too much. We both said it, and we both crossed the line. I feel guilty looking at Gabby. I can understand why he doesn’t want to hurt her. She’s just so kind and considerate. Maybe even innocent.

He wants to be with me. Not her.

I wont do it for him. I didn’t. Instead, Gabby and I talked about him. About his nervous habits. His obsession over comics.

His absolute loyalty.

She’s in love with him still. I understand her. I feel bad for her. We had fun today, but she has to go.

He’s mine.

Entry 2:
Extraction went well today. 119 ml. I talked to Spike about Gabby again, this time during extraction. He says that he still loves her. This is the first he’s admitted to me since that evening.

I asked him what about me.

He said he loves me, too. But it’s different. When he looks at me he gets aroused. When I touch him his heart pounds. He dreams about me.

~~He said it makes him sick.~~

He just wants her to be happy.

~~Why doesn’t he want me to be happy?~~

Wednesday, December 10th, 15NMR:
Entry 1: It’s the morning. I’m still upset over Spike’s comments during extraction last night. I know I’m not being rational. I know he didn’t mean any harm. I don’t care. I’m angry.

I haven’t been this angry in a long time.

Entry 2: I decided to search his room. I found a stash of magazines under his bed. Some were comics. Some were fashion magazines. Some were sex magazines. I took them. Spike watched, but didn’t say anything. I know he’s an adult. I know he’s not ~~my child~~ supposed to have them.

I told him that he was hoarding. He’s not supposed to hoard. I took them from him. He didn't look me in the eye. I moved them to a storage room and locked it. I’ve never locked something away from him like that before. I don’t know why I did that. I’m still furious with him, but that made me feel better.

He can’t hoard. I’m doing this for his own good. ~~He’ll understand~~.

Extraction went well. 124 ml. He was more submissive and complaint today. I think the hoard had been causing him to act up. I rewarded him by giving him a generous kiss on the tip of his penis after he had ejaculated. The soft-spikes tickled my lips, and he tasted of cinnamon. He’s a good boy.

I added the collected semen to the new storage system. It’s electronically cooled, and quite spacious. I moved it to the same storage room where I locked his magazines up. I should keep all the things together, that way I don’t lose them.

Thursday, December 11th, 15NMR:
Entry 1: I tried to convince him to directly break up with Gabby this morning, assuming that since I’d confiscated his hoard that he’d be more willing to listen.

He was uninterested, and asked me to stop asking him. He’s refusing. ~~I may have overstepped my~~ I attempted to bargain with him, but he didn’t want to discuss the matter.

He called me some things that I’m not going to record, for both of our sakes. I’m angry again, but he’s right.

He’s right.

Entry 2: Extraction went well. 125 ml. He was angry with me the whole time, but it didn’t stop him from ejaculating in my palm. ~~It was incredibly erotic~~.

I’m, perhaps, more fixated on his response than I should be. The look in his face, the angry tone he had, and his complete and utter submission to my expert touch. He’s so compliant, so very eager and willing. He’s my ~~little~~ Spike, and I love him so very much. Even when he’s angry he still shudders and quivers when I tell him to. The feelings we’ve been experiencing together are indescribable.

But still, it’s not ~~right~~ ~~complete~~ what he needs.

Spike refuses to break up with Gabby. He also refuses to treat her properly. While I measured the sample, I told him that he couldn’t keep doing this and that he was acting like a child.

He said that I couldn’t make them break up. That it wasn’t my choice.

Something about his tone, his defiance, made me angry. I got so angry that I growled at him instead of giving him a rational response. He ~~knows that I am in charge~~ said that he loved me, but why won’t he listen to me?

Something is wrong with me. I do not usually get angry like this. I haven’t noticed this anger in any of my other relationships. Only with Spike. Somehow, I feel like he’s mine, and it hurts me on some indescribable level when he doesn’t do what I want expect. I don’t want to admit it freely, but I know that I’m in romantic love with him.

I think I’m a jealous lover. I never thought I’d be a jealous lover. What do I do?

there’s no stop

Friday, December 12th, 15NMR:
Entry 1: I visited Gabby of my own accord today. I needed to clear some things in my head, and I don’t trust myself around Spike. I shouldn’t have trusted myself around her. I don’t know why I thought it would be a good idea.

I wanted them to break up.

I realized what I was doing right before I would have done it. I almost told her everyth too much. She deserves to know something. I don’t hate her. I actually quite like her. She’s the nicest griffon I know, and she tries so hard to make everybody as happy as she can. I truly hope she finds happiness.

Just not around my Spike.

Once I realized what I was doing, I awkwardly left. I’m sure she was a little confused, but she was very polite. I left her some cookies, rocks and all, to enjoy. I hope she doesn’t think I hate her.

Then again. ma

No, I need to smooth this over. She’s a good griffon. She doesn’t deserve this.

Entry 2: Extraction went well today. 122 ml. I made him beg ask me to release the spell. I liked that. I should make him beg more. He is a good boy.

Entry 3: I’ve generally stopped recording my masturbation sessions. They are frequent enough nowadays so as to be not worth mentioning. Lately, it’s every night. I decided to record my masturbation session tonight because something has changed. I am feeling different. I think I’ve done

There’s been some kind of reaction. I’m sure of it. I should be scared of it, but I’m not. As far as I can tell, my magical signature is intact. I’m worried I’m not acting rationally, but I also don’t care. I know that’s irrational, but as I said, I don’t care.

Reviewing this journal, it’s so obvious that I’m acting different. It’s superfluous when it’s happening to you, but when you get the chance to step outside of your body and simply observe then it becomes clear. Empirically, I’m the same. My magic is the same. My body is the same. I haven’t physically changed at all.

But tonight, I wanted to masturbate again. So I did. Only, it wasn’t in my room. I went to the locked storage room, and opened up the semen storage. I looked over Spike’s collected essence, and it brought me joy. Each vial, empty or full, was a successful extraction. Each vial was a moment of submission on his part. Submission to me.

I ran my fingers from vial to vial, relishing the many liters of shivering ecstatic obedience that ~~I’d taken~~ he’d given me. I climaxed to that thought. When I’d finished, I picked up one of his magazines. I imagined ~~taking~~ one of the mares in it, how it would feel to touch them and ~~control their orga~~ make them feel good.

I did it again. And then again.

This isn’t me. Rather, this wasn’t me. Nothing’s wrong. I’ve been monitoring myself, and the data is clean and normal. But something’s ~~wrong~~ different.

~~I need to fix this.~~

Why?Do I like this?

Thursday, December 18th, 15NMR:
Entry 1: Spike and I talked this morning. He still refuses. He called me something again. Something not very nice. I’m livid. He should know better. I don’t know what I’m going to do. I’m practically seeing red. The rage is something that’s gotten stronger over the last few weeks. I don’t think it’s normal. I don’t care.

I can’t talk to him about this right now. I can’t look at him. ~~Why won’t he~~ obey ~~listen to me?~~

Entry 2: I have made a mistake.

Entry 3: Extraction was normal. 132 ml. He doesn’t know.

What have I done? I should be terrified, or disgusted, or even feeling guilty. Instead I feel vindicated. It feels good. This shouldn’t feel good?

~~am I a bad~~

I masturbated tonight. Not to Spike. Not exactly. I’m still warm and fuzzy. My face is still flush and my libido is still peaked. Why does this make me feel so ~~euphoric~~? This isn’t normal. It’s like a drug. I know it’s wrong. I know everything about this is wrong, but I don’t care.

I’m hot, and sweaty, and my fingers are cramping, and my abdomen hurts, and my pussy is probably bruised from what I’ve done to it tonight. And I still won’t stop. I can’t—I don’t have any self control. Not today. Not tonight. Not anymore.

It wasn’t much. Just one little mistake. A singular action that lasted only a second. One moment of weakness, but it’s a crack in the dam of his disobedience. It’s a start. I know what I’m going to do now. I should hate it. I should be horrified with myself. Instead, I can’t wait. I’m dripping with excitement.

~~I’m going to show~~
~~I’m a very bad~~
~~He’ll finally~~
~~It’s~~

Celestia forgive me, I can’t stop.

Gabby is an awkward kisser.

Friday, December 19th, 15NMR:
Entry 1: Hearth's Warming is just around the corner. That only further complicates things. I already sent presents to the girls; to Shining, Cadance, and Flurry; to my parents; and to the princesses and the required dignitaries. I don’t have anything for Spike.

~~He doesn’t deser~~

I need to get him something. I love him, but I’m so irrationally angry with him over this. I also have a present for Gabby. I need to ~~apologize~~ make up for yesterday. It was a moment of weakness for us both. She was frustrated that Spike had been seemingly ignoring her, and I was just feeling ~~possessive~~ empathetic and frustrated. ~~will I do~~

We awkwardly laughed about it, and I left. But I couldn’t stop thinking about it. ~~Spike thinks she’s his. I can make h~~

Spike and I only had the one day where we ~~had sex~~ connected. Maybe for his Hearth's Warming, I can clear a day and wear a bathrobe? Maybe I should buy something that’s actually supposed to be sexy?

He’s out today, looking for more dragon history. I appreciate his scholarly nature, but I’m wondering if he’s hoarding knowledge. ~~I have no way to tak~~ Is that dangerous, I wonder?

I need to talk to Gabby, so I asked her to visit today. She’ll be by sometime in the morning, and I have her present ready. It’s a new set of enchanted cookware that I know she’s been eyeing but can’t afford. I altered it slightly, just as a little personal touch for her. I replaced the logo with my cutie-mark. I’ll give it to her today, and she can open it with us on Hearth's Warming.

That way she remembers who ~~she~~ it’s from.

~~I am I really going through with this?~~

Entry 2: I’ve decided.

Entry: Gabby left around three. She stayed for much longer than either of us anticipated. It started with an awkward apology, but then we started laughing about how territorial griffons get. She felt like it was her fault we hadn’t been getting along lately. She thought that she was being overly territorial with me, like a nesting hen.

I assured her that I hardly noticed, and in fact was treating her much worse. I lamented that I just couldn’t let go of Spike, but if I had to pick somebody then I’d pick her. I gave her my blessing. I hadn’t done that yet. I apologized for my curtness and any rudeness that may have manifested from my irritation at him growing up, and reassured her that it was never about her. It was about him.

She told me I had always been kind, nice, and generous with her. I assured her that it wasn’t the case, and I profusely apologized. She cried happy tears.

~~I don’t feel guilty anymore. Why don’t I feel guilty? Should I feel guilty? I should, right? This is something I would have felt guilt over before?~~

I ~~did it. Just like I’d~~ did something that I shouldn’t have. I’m not going to call it a mistake, this time. I can rationally say that it was wrong, but I’m still afflicted by my crippling disease of amorality.

It was easy. I told her how wonderful she was. How lucky Spike was. How beautiful she was. She was surprised, but I didn’t slow down. I lavished her with praises. At first she was confused and flustered. Gabby turned bright red, unable to formulate a response to my paralyzing storm of glowing praise.

I do like her. I really do. But the thing I should feel guilty about was that I wasn’t doing this for her. I was doing it for him. I was aggressive. I cornered her, and I pulled her into another kiss, just like yesterday. I’ve never felt another woman melt into my arms before. It was intoxicating, and I quickly grew drunk.

Before we knew it, I had her on the couch. I was on top of her, and she was underneath me. At first, we just kissed. Gabby is an awkward kisser, but I like it. I enjoy her sloppy beak, it feels like she simply has no control over it. So I exercised my control over it.

When I was confident that she knew what I liked, I made her practice it with me. As we kissed, I touched her. I didn’t ask her for permission when I slipped my hand down her pants. She startled when I plucked at her underwear. She grabbed my arm with both her frantic hands, and pulled out of the kiss. She started to ask me to stop, I could hear the words start to form. I didn’t let that happen. Instead, I harshly interrupted her, not letting her get a word out.

I felt commanding. I told her that she was going to keep kissing me with that delicious little beak of hers, and she wasn’t going to stop until I told her she could. We were both surprised when she pressed her beak back into my lips, and loosened her gripp on my arm. I slid my hand under her underwear, and she let her arms fall limply to her sides. In that moment, we both learned two very important facts about her.

I learned that Gabby is an exceptionally obedient griffon.

Gabby learned that she is my new finger puppet.

Her beak was eager when she kissed me. I relished her heartbeat, sucked in her breath, and let our tongues dance. Hers is smaller than mine, but so much more textured. It was fun to suckle, but not as fun as it was discovering how wet I’d made her. My fingers glided over, through, and then into her body like they belonged there. ~~because they do~~.

She was so warm inside, and she squirmed under my touch. Somehow, I got her pants and underwear on the floor without ever slipping my dancing fingers fully out of her pussy. I was pleased at how much her pussy felt like mine. It made it easy to show her how good it felt to ~~be mine~~ be with me. I made sure she felt very good.

Eventually she was thoroughly ruined, along with my couch again. After the lust cleared her system, she was shocked. She begged me not to tell Spike what ~~I’d done to~~ we’d done, claiming that she had been pent up and frustrated. That she felt abandoned and alone, and I had been so warm and welcoming. She’d never done anything like this before, and she felt ashamed. I didn’t care. My apathy was startling. I made her promise to open up to me again in return for my silence. She reluctantly agreed, though she seemed unsure.

~~Is this blackmail?~~

~~I’m so excited, she’s so cute when she cums, and her little noises are so adorable, and her feathers are so soft, and she’s so wonderfully obedient and she loves me and is so awkward, and such a gorgeous woman, and I’m going to do so many things to her, and she’s mine,~~ minemine~~.~~

Spike ~~won’t~~ is coming home soon.

Why am I so giddy about this? I’m ecstatic.

Entry: Extraction went smoothly. 136 ml. I hadn’t washed my hands. He definitely smelled the sex, but thought I had been masturbating. He smirked when he asked me if I had enjoyed myself while he was away. I smirked back and told him that I had. He doesn’t know that the dried ejaculate I rubbed all over his dick and into his soft-spikes was Gabby’s cum. ~~I feel so alive~~.

I’m not angry with him anymore. I just want him to be happy. I made him so happy.

Everything feels so good. Life is great.

Entry: Something is wrong again. I still don’t care, not like I did before. Poetically, the apathy doesn’t bother me. It’s only worth recording ~~because it’s wrong~~. I am so very happy. These mood swings are confusing. ~~What’s happening to me?~~

I took a pregnancy test, just to be sure. It’s negative. ~~I don’t have any other~~

I need to organize my thoughts:

My focus is erratic. I can think, but it’s wild and strange.
I haven’t felt any guilt in some time. I’ve done things that logically I should feel guilty about.
My primary emotions are anger, unbridled joy, and a new emotion similar to desire. I want things. Right now it’s Gabby.
This want is consuming and dangerous. It’s a need, and it drives my thoughts.
I am ~~obsessed~~ in love with Spike. ~~he’s~~ MINE
My understanding of morality has not changed, however, it no longer influences my decisions. ~~evil?~~
Physically, I am the same.
Magically, I am the same.
Emotionally I am not me. ~~who what am I now?~~
Gabby is ~~mine~~ caught in this. What have I done? What am I doing?
I don’t want to stop.

When’s the last time I actually studied his semen? What am I doing with it besides hoarding it?

~~fuck~~

Saturday, December 20th, 15NMR:
Entry: I had to test my hypothesis. I snuck a bite of Spike’s peridot pancakes while he wasn’t looking. It tasted like lime. My teeth sliced through the gems like they were soft butter.

Why isn’t this showing up on my magic assessment? I know what’s happening now. I don’t know why. I don’t even think I care to stop it.

I told Spike that Gabby was coming over today and that he needed to talk to her. He scowled and told me that he’s not ready. He left.

I should be angry. I would have been furious at him yesterday morning. Instead, I’m still giddy.

I’m just so excited to play with my new toy.

Entry: Gabby was awkward. She nervously showed up, and seemed afraid of me. I don’t know why. I asked her to sit with me on the couch so we could talk. She said that we couldn’t do what we’d done yesterday. That she and Spike were together, and that what we’d done was wrong.

I knew all that already, so I just asked if she’d enjoyed it.

She said that she had, but it was still wrong.

I almost told her everything. ~~I need hel~~ Instead I asked her when the last time Spike kissed her was. She said November 14th. Over a month ago. Worse, she’d only seen him a handful of times since. I told her that she deserved more attention than that. That she was a remarkable griffon, and should be put on top of a pile of gold.

Gabby blushed. I promised that I’d help her figure this out. That we’d figure this out, and that she was part of our family now.

One way or another.

She seemed uncomfortable with how I’d said that, and asked if she could go.

I told her no.

She simply said “Oh.” ~~she wasn’t surprised. She’d known~~

When I kissed her this time, she was ready. She watched me with her eyes like her life depended on it, and I could see the focus, fear, and excitement in them. She was struggling with the morality of what we were going to do. My apathy is liberating. There was no struggle for me.

I took her in a new way. This time I made her kiss me where I told her to. At first she was reluctant. She was unsure how to do it. She was worried she’d hurt me. I convinced her to do it anyways. The sensation when her little beak brushed my outer labia was electric, but the euphoric buzz wasn’t from the physical feeling. It was from watching her little downy cheeks blush and puff as she obediently buried them in my thighs.

She loves when I tell her what to do.

I love when she does it.

It’s symbiotic. I wouldn’t mind being a parasite clinging to the back of her cute little neck, but I don’t have to be. Instead I get to make her kiss me oh so tenderly and watch as she shivers in confused delight.

After she made me cum, I had her gently lick me clean with her rough little tongue while I held her by her feathered head tuft. Then I ate her little griffon pussy until her legs couldn’t stop shaking. I’ve never tasted a woman who isn’t me before. I like it.

I let her lay on the couch while I just stood over her and touched her body. I love her breasts. They’re so soft and fuzzy and cuddly. I also love her cute little flushed face as she slowly recovers. She smiled at me, timid but happy. She tried to———

~~I gave in. We gave in.~~

I told her she was mine now.

She understands.

Gabby was gone by the time Spike came back. I was just sitting on the couch. All I’d done was flip the cushions. He stared at me, lounging in my ruffled clothes and smelling of sex. I don’t know how long he stared at me. He asked me if he could get some relief.

I told him no.

~~I don’t know what I’m feeling anymore~~

Extraction was problematic. I couldn’t help myself. I swallowed some of it. He just looked so pent up and hurting, and I wanted to make him feel so good. I got about 80 ml into the receptacle. The rest ended up in me or on me.

I made him feel good though. That’s okay, right? I did the right thing?

He was so happy to get his relief. I don’t know why I lost track of what I was doing. I just put his dick in my hand and it was warm, and I saw the soft-spikes all around the tip, and I remembered Gabby’s tongue, and I wanted to feel his cock head on my tongue and then it happened and it was over and I realized halfway through that I was drinking it.

It was like drinking from a hose. And the soft-spikes felt good and ticklish on my tongue and the smell was overpowering and I got it inside me and——and.

No. I will not.

I will not.

Sunday, December 21st, 15NMR:
Entry 1:
I will maintain focus. I am still me. Something about me is still me.

Entry 2:
Gabby came by. I didn’t let Spike leave. I made her and Spike sit down together. They smiled and hugged. Neither told the other what I’d done to them. They look so happy together. I’m forcing myself to care.

They exchanged gifts. He officially invited her over for Hearth's Warming.

After she left, he apologized to me. He almost broke down crying. He said he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t break up with her. I told him that I didn’t care anymore. They could be together and he could love her. That it was okay.

I don’t. Not about that.

He cried. He was happy.

Entry 3:
I had some time to study his semen again today. It hurt to take the vial from the storage room. Is this what I’ve been doing to Spike when I take his hoard? I need to apologize to him. He’s the only reason I can do this.

He can do this.

That means it’s possible. That means I can do this.

I am running a drastic test. It used a lot of blood, and a lot of magic. I’m dizzy, but I’ll be okay. I think I know what happened. If I’m right, then maybe I can fix this. I just need to get back to normal.

Entry 4:
Extraction went well today. 139 ml. 4m:32s. Visual stimulation and audio stimulation were utilized. Spike was receptive, as always.

~~this is so fucking hard~~

Monday, December 22nd, 15NMR:
Entry 1:
I checked the experiment first thing in the morning. The results were inconclusive. My homunculus remains seemingly untainted. Does it need more time? More semen? I have plenty of semen. ~~I don’t know about the time.~~ He can do this; I can do this.

Entry 2:
I told them. Not everything. Not even close. But I told them some of it. I need help. Gabby was here to help Spike bake, and they were making garnet cookies. Spike caught me eating one. He stared at me like I was an alien.

Gabby came in and asked what was going on. I told her that I ate a cookie. She asked what the big deal was. Spike told her it was a garnet cookie.

She still didn’t get it, at least not right away.

I’ve never been good at doing things on my own. I always need help. Why did I think I could do this on my own? Spike can help me. Spike will help me.

I told them that something has been wrong with me. That I’ve been changing, and I’m scared. Spike asked if I’d be okay. I told him I will be; because I will be.

Gabby asked if it was her fault. I said no. Spike asked if it was his. I also told him it wasn’t. It’s really not his fault. It’s mine.

Just like they are.

Entry 3:
Spike asked if we should be doing this. He’s worried that this is causing my problems. ~~he’s right~~ I told him that we need to keep doing this. I really do need to continue the research. ~~I also need to fill my hoard.~~

139 ml. 12m:17s. He was nervous. I calmed him down with physical affection.

Entry 4:
I checked on my homunculus. No change. Why isn’t it working? I re-dosed it with the fresh semen. I used 60 ml to coat it. ~~It looked happy.~~ it’s a magically sustained ball of bloody tissue. It has no emotions.

~~almost like me~~

Entry 5:
I’m documenting my masturbation sessions again, if only to maintain my focus. Even if I am changing, I must retain my note keeping. Dragons don’t keep records. Even Spike struggles with it. I worked so hard to train him to keep notes, and he still fails at that task unless I prompt him.

I’m doing it while thinking of him. Today was emotional. I could see he cared. How does he care? ~~why don’t~~ why is it so hard for me?

It’s not hard to get off, but I know I’m not thinking of love anymore. Not like I thought I was. I understand it now. I know he’s mine. And I want to show him how very much mine he is. Gabby is mine, too. That’s why it’s okay. They can be together. They’re both mine—together.

He’s hard and scaly, delicious and erotic. She’s soft and squishy, oh so eager to please. I just want to smash them together and mash them up until they are both quivering, beautiful, lovely little messes of mine. ~~I can ruin them.~~

I can’t stop. ~~Maybe I do care about something.~~

Tuesday, December 23rd, 15NMR:
~~I shut down the~~ Entry 1:
I shut down the castle for the holidays. I told everyone that I’m having a private little family get together. It was easy. Dash and Fluttershy took Discord on a skiing trip. Pinkie is with her family, doting over Little Cheese. Rarity and Applejack are hosting an assuredly saccharine Ponyville Hearth's Warming pageant at Applejack’s farm. Mom and Dad are staying with Shining and Cadance.

It’s a perfect opportunity to live in my own little roost for a few days. Of course, I’m not entirely alone.

Once the castle was empty, I went back to our private wing. Spike was writing cards. I walked up behind him, and draped an arm over his shoulder. He was surprised.

He was even more surprised when I pressed my naked breast against his back, and told him that I wasn’t even wearing a bathrobe today. I never did buy any proper lingerie, but it’s not like it would have stayed on for long anyways.

It’s been a fun morning.

Entry 2:
I’m exhausted. I know that I’ve given in~~, but I can only fight so much.~~ and I don’t really care anymore. He tried to make me turn off the spell again. I didn’t do it.

I’m the one in charge. He knows that now. I’ve been stalking him this time. He’s the one with the wet, semi-erect cock dangling loosely from between his legs. I’m the one who’s been wracked with orgasm after orgasm from his obedience. I haven’t let him cum. I’ve been gentle, but forceful. He doesn’t get relief until it’s time. He knows that now.

He’s so docile and loving. I suckled his tip, relishing the aromatic scent and the wiggling little soft-spikes that were practically tickling my throat. He begged me. I love it when he begs.

I made him beg more, but I told him I wouldn’t do it even then. He knew that. He still begged. He was still a good little drake. Spike has been so obedient. He feels like a trained dog. I love it. I love him. He’s mine. I made him mine.

Maybe I was mean to him. I used him as my dildo. I made him sit down in my chair, and I straddled him. He slid right in. Then I rode him. We were face to face. We kissed. He adored me. I praised him. He didn’t cum. I don’t know how many times I did, sitting in his lap and filled with his throbbing cock.

He only complained a little.

Entry 3:
155 ml recovered. 0m:01s. I’m not sure that either the amount or the time counts, but I’m recording it anyways. He overfilled the receptacle—155 ml is the maximum volume. I let the rest splatted across my chest. Then I let him finger paint me with his claws.

I’m a good ~~mo si fam gua frie~~ owner.

Entry 4:
No change with the homunculus. It’s not the sperm. Could I even detect the change? I was so sure this was it. Sustained, subtle magical influence to alter the harmonics of the signature might be undetectable in myself, as my magical detection harmonics would change in my spell casting at the same rate, but should show up in a separate entity, ie., the homunculus immediately once the change had happened.

It has been two days, and there’s nothing. I should be able to detect as little as a 0.01% dissonance. That should be easily the amount of change that could happen in two days.

My hypothesis was wrong. There’s no undetectable harmonic difference. ~~It’s too late~~

I’ll need to think of something else. ~~it’s hopeless. It doesn’t matter.~~

January

Author's Note

This section doesn't have dog ears, but it's easy enough to find the entries of note. Most entries have meticulously perfect handwriting. The last entry does not.

The pages after the last entry are blank, but the ink is still wet. The journal seems to be over, but perhaps the experiment is not.

January

Friday, January 11th, 16NMR:
Entry 1:
Same as yesterday, but I think I’m making progress. Spike has been reluctant to help. He’s still angry over the Gabby thing. He should get over it. She is fine. I’ve been just so happy since she moved in. All her things are in my storage room, not his. His things are in my room as well. He’s mine, too.

He could be happy too. I can make him happy. He just has to beg. It’s been two weeks since he’s had an extraction. He’s always agitated. Gabby knows exactly how to beg. She does it so sweetly, so nicely. He likes to leave when she does that. I don’t let him. I make him watch. I like knowing that his dick is hanging limply, half erect at the sight of me ~~forcing~~ helping her cum.

I think I’ve found something. Gabby’s homunculus was fruitful. I got a reaction! Yay me! I never ~~gave up~~ completely stopped researching. I’m not turning into a dragon! Isn’t that great? I’m also not turning into a griffon. They sure do love their things. I think I’m turning into an alicorn. It was so simple!

Entry 2:
I asked Spike for help. I don’t think he likes me right now. I don’t know why. He’s mine. He didn’t want to help. That’s okay. I don’t need him to want to help. I just needed him to help. ~~then I can stop being happy~~

~~Was this rape? This is the first time it really felt like it. But maybe it was before? He begged me not to. He was achingly erect. I was still wet from Gabby’s tongue. He almost didn’t fit! The little soft-spikes weren’t so soft after two weeks of constant teasing, and they kind of hurt when I made him penetrate me. I could see the agony and pleasure in his eyes. He cried. I smiled.~~

I was so happy. I played with him for a little, just an hour or so before I finally did it. I released the spell, and he filled me and it felt so good. It must have been over a liter dumped directly into my pussy. I’ve never felt so full, and the semen was so thick and heavy. It tingled. My belly still feels distended and satisfied.

The look on his face when he finally came was so satisfying. He liked it. He gave up. He’s mine. Mine.

Spike is MINE.

Entry 3:
I’m a monster. I’m not happy any more, thank Celestia. I wish I was. ~~not again it’s not me~~ What have I done? I can’t fix this. I can’t fix him. I can’t fix Gabby. I can’t fix me. I’ve figured out some of it. I was never turning into a dragon. Not really.

I’m turning into an alicorn.

I mean, more of an alicorn. It wasn’t his biology, it was mine. I’m adaptive. I’ve never had sex before. Something about me takes on traits of ~~ponies~~ creatures that I have sex with, but I think it’s gone haywire. I’ve got months and months of psychic build up from collecting his semen. It only got worse when we had actual sex. I think it was my immune system that triggered it. I’m resistant and adaptive to magical attacks, and I kept dosing it with the same violent signature.

~~My body thought that I~~ The response was because I’m an alicorn Princess. Whatever the new paradigm, I’m supposed to be on top. So if the paradigm is one of sex (my contribution), violence (Spike’s dragon nature), and greed (Both Gabby and Spike), then it turns out like this.

Spike had fought his nature his whole life, growing up in that emotional battleground. I experienced raw adult dragon emotions out of nowhere. I wasn’t mentally ready. My mind wasn’t prepared for that. How could it be?

Then came Gabby.

Happy, devoted, eager and excited griffon Gabby. She was greedy, like any other griffon. But she fought her nature like Spike. More than Spike, even. I can’t control myself when I am with her. It’s too much. She’s so exuberant. So eager and happy, while hiding her greed. The dragon is still in there. It doesn’t go away anymore. The hoarding, the greed, the joy, the rage, the want—they all hit me at once, or worse, one at a time.

My base emotions and desires had been written over with dragon nature from a very repressed dragon, and then whipped into griffon souffle from an even more repressed griffon. I only vaguely remember what it feels like to be a pony. ~~I’ve~~

I think this is my nature. Not his. Not hers. Mine.

Both dragons and griffons have a strong hierarchy. Griffons are based on money and gifts. I kept giving Gabby things. Cookies. Empathy. Spike. I’m a princess. Gabby could never have told me “no”. Even if she wasn’t so eager to please. Dragons are based on raw strength. I’m stronger than him. I’ve also trained him. ~~I know I need forgive~~

I don’t care. I don’t know what’s happening to him. It’s separate from me. Maybe we’re linked, but I don’t think my magic is causing his increased anger, and obscene ejaculation quantities. It must have been the experiment. It must have been how I treated him. Dragons have a hierarchy. They adapt. Like me.

~~I think I get it, even if I don’t have any evidence.~~

This was all my doing. ~~Maybe his greed~~ I’m responsible. No matter what happens, I did this. I could have left them alone. Spike would never have sexually awakened. They would have been happy.

Now they’re not happy. But that’s okay. They’re mine.

I need to do something before the dragon ennui kicks in. I overloaded the griffon psyche by making Spike help me. I’m a confusing mash right now, but that’s the best for thinking. When it hits, I’m going to have to handle two weeks of pent up and angry Dragon mind scape. Dragons only care about increasing their hoard, and enforcing their dominance over others. My hoard has a castle, and so much treasure. And my two pets. ~~does understanding it help?~~ no

Now there’s an idea. Maybe I’ll feel better if I add more to my hoard? I bet Applejack likes to do what she’s told.

~~It doesn’t matter. I’m too late~~

I’ve set Spike free. It hurt. It hurt so much. I made him take Gabby. It’s antithetical. It’s heresy. It’s betrayal. I’ll take it back. I’ll take them back.

I’m enraged. I’m going to burn everything to the ground and nothing can stop me.

No.

My hoard is my kingdom. I am the princess.

I am the princess.

I am the pri——

~~They’re mine.~~

I am the princess.

Sunday, January 13th, 16NMR:
Entry 1:
I am the princess.

Monday, January 14th, 16NMR:
Entry 1:
I am the princess.

Tuesday, January 15th, 16NMR:
Entry 1:
I am the princess.

Wednesday, January 16th, 16NMR:
Entry 1:
I am the princess.

And I am stronger than this.

Thursday, January 17th, 16NMR:
Entry 1:
I am the princess. I haven’t seen any friends or family since Spike left. I hold court. I make decisions. I manage my hoard. I return to my storage room. I have turned down all visit requests. I have politely responded to letters, saying I am unavailable. I can do this. I can do this.

~~I’ve been buying things. My treasures glitter.~~

Entry 2:
Spike returned with Gabby. He’s hurt her. He didn’t mean to. She’s burned. I can fix this. This isn’t about me. I have to fix this.

I am the princess.

I am stronger than this.

I have to help them. They’re supposed to be mine, after all.

Entry 3:
Extraction was uneventful. 182 ml.

Friday, January 18th, 16NMR:
Entry 1:
I am uniquely suited to help Gabby. The homunculus will fuel the magic. But it’s part of my hoard. I can’t give it up for nothing. Spike has agreed to my terms. Gabby has no choice. She’s dying. She’ll obey. She’s a good griffon.

They are both mine again.

Entry 2:
Extraction was uneventful. 193 ml.

Saturday, January 19th, 16NMR:
Entry 1:
Extraction went well. 196 ml. I have prepared larger vials. Spike is so obedient now.

~~I’m glad they ran away. He’s so docile now. He lets me do anything to him now. I know, because I have.~~

Sunday, January 20th, 16NMR:

Extraction went very well. 263 ml, plus quite a bit spilled ~~in~~ on my body throughout the day.

I am so happy that we’re all back together again!

Everything is all better now and I’m just so excited and happy about it and I have my toys back and it’s all so wonderful!

Hearth's Warming

Author's Note

The pages here are crisper. They're newer. Even the handwriting, while it contains many scratch outs and ink smudges, is otherwise perfect. It's as though the author spent much time on each section, writing slowly and meticulously. Perhaps mechanically.

Hearth's Warming

Wednesday, December 24th, 15NMR:
~~I don’t care any~~ Entry 1:
It’s a new day. Gabby is here. Spike has been acting awkward around her. Probably because he fucked my brains out yesterday. She brought some emerald and rodalite cookies for us, even a little set of chocolate chip ones just for me. She also said I was free to have the gem cookies with her and Spike.

I did. They were delicious.

I normally don’t eat meat, but Gabby and Spike were excited for the roast. I didn’t ask what animal it was from. I tried a little while Spike and Gabby watched me curiously. It was also good. I didn’t feel guilty. I never do anymore. I had seconds.

My ennui needs to end. We sang songs, told stories, and had a merry time around the fire. We even opened our gifts. My real gift to Spike was yesterday, but I got him a nice little scale detailer. Gabby was excited for the cooking set I got her. She noticed my cutie mark and blushed, but didn’t say anything.

She’s a good girl.

~~Spike and her got each other amulets or something. I wasn’t~~ Spike gave Gabby a gold amulet with a silver etching of fire done into it. She got him a matching silver one with a gold etching of a cloud. They’d clearly coordinated, but both seemed happy with the gifts.

Gabby got me book cozies made out of wool and colored like her feathers. To keep my books warm.

I love everything about them.

Gabby is staying the night. She’s not allowed to stay with Spike. He knows why.

Entry 2:
Extraction was done in secret. We excused ourselves, and accomplished the task in 6m:24s. He produced 145 ml. The excursion was less than 8 minutes, but it was still a long time to leave Gabby alone. When we returned, I found her stroking her amulet and smiling to herself.

She didn’t suspect us. And why should she?

I shuddered, suddenly feeling grateful that I was slightly uncomfortable with her plight. Not enough to actually do anything to fix the situation, but far more than I’d felt in months.

Emotion. Not just anger, joy, or desperate want. But a trace of sadness. Maybe a tinge of actual anxiety. A glimmer, just a sparkle of guilt for what I’d done to her.

Then it was gone. The unbridled joy and excitement is back, but this time I feel like I deserve it. I don’t know how, or why, but I’m fighting it.

Gabby’s spending the night in the guest room. My guest room.

~~fuck, no—fuck—I we di—Celes, why? Entry—~~

Entry 3:
I wish I could say I’m sorry. We both know I’m not.

Entry 4:
The sun’s coming up. I’m not counting this as tomorrow just yet. It’s still yesterday. I took Gabby back to my bed last night. I stole her away from the guest room. ~~She’s not a guest~~ Today. Not yesterday. I made her do things. We both loved deeply enjoyed how well and completely and obediently and lovingly and amazingly and beautifully she did those things.

I broke her somehow. This is wrong, but I don’t care. She’s mine. She’s been mine, but now she’s really, truly mine. She’s so soft. She’s so warm and feathery. I can bury myself in her wings. I can use her as a blanket, or a cushion. I can use her beak as a dildo. I can do w_h_a_t_ e_v_e_r__I __w_a_n_t with her.

She didn’t fight me. Not exactly. She just looked sad when I woke her up in the middle of the night. There were no questions. She kept her amulet, and her clothes on. I just woke her up, and told her that she was going to give me my second present.

She followed me to my room, and I locked the door behind us. I love locking my things up now. I keep Spike locked up with the spell. My things are locked up in the storage room. And tonight, I locked her up with me.

I made her strip for me. I bored holes into her naked flesh with my eyes. Then I used my hands to open my present. I wasn’t gentle. She didn’t want me to be. Griffons, it turns out, generally have somewhat violent sex. It was more than that. I had her dance for me. I had her tell me her secrets. I made her worship me. She gave me everything I asked for, and did it with a little smile that grew less sad and more earnestly joyous as the night went on.

She loves me. I own her. I took her pendant and I enchanted it. Just a little. Just a touch. Just a tingling reminder that she’s mine that she can’t take off now. I love the taste of her little holes, the shivering unsure response that warps into cute debauchery, her whole body orgasms that cause her to noisily squirt, how each and every hidden crevice of hers has been claimed by me. Even the tang of her blood when I bite her nipple too hard and she squeals.

~~Did she break? Or did I?~~

She’s my Hearth's Warming present to myself. We’re going to move her things in. Most of them are going to my storage room. I’m going to feel so good when I lock them up in there. I’m shivering with excitement, laying here in my soaking wet bed sheets and wrapped in my slumbering, feathery, and wet toy.

~~She deserves better~~

Not anymore. She’s mine.

Thursday, December 25th, 15NMR:

Entry 1:
It’s Hearth's Warming proper. The castle is empty except for us. Everybody else is with their families. This is mine.

Gabby is walking with a limp. I definitely was a little too rough with her last night. Spike asked what’s wrong. She looks so sad and guilty every time she says nothing is wrong.

I’m so happy. So incredibly happy. I just can’t hold it in. I’m smiling, and twirling, and singing, and saying so many things so quickly about how great Spike is and how pretty Gabby is, and how cute they are together and how much I never want them to leave and they should stay here forever and ever and I love that.

Spike seems uncomfortable with my exuberance. Gabby is just sadly smiling and moving slowly.

They should be happy, but it’s okay. I know what it’s like to not be able to control your feelings.

Entry 2:
We had leftovers for lunch. I demolished what was left of the roast. It was so absolutely incredibly delicious. Spike cornered me after, and demanded to know what was happening. I told him not to worry, that everything was great.

He asked why Gabby was hurt.

I told him not to worry about it.

He asked if I had hurt her.

I told him not to worry about it.

Why didn’t he listen? I’m still happy. Still so happy.

But I had to punish Spike.

Entry 3:
Gabby is so obedient and soft and wonderful. I showed Spike. I showed him what I did to her. I made her show him what I’d done to her. Then I made her show him exactly how it had happened.

I had two orgasms. She had three.

I didn’t turn his spell off. His almost erect dick was dangling loosely between his legs the whole time. It’s good that I kept him locked up, how I like things. He was straining against the magic chains, furious with me. Spike could get so angry.

But Gabby was always so soft and happy. ~~Even when she wasn’t.~~

Why hadn’t he listened? Then he could be happy like me.

Entry 4:
Spike resisted extraction. I wasn’t sure what to do. He’s never done this before. I left the spell on. I remembered that I needed to research the thing, so I did that instead. The homunculus was the same. Nothing changed it; at least no dragon semen. The inherent alicorn magical immunities are simply too strong.

Maybe that’s the problem? What if I could weaken them? Would I turn into a dragon?

I need to run another test. I’ll need another homunculus, and it can’t be mine or Spike’s. It’s going to take a lot of blood.

Gabby is so sweetly obedient. So very, very sweet.

~~I took too much.~~ She’ll be fine.

Inside of the back cover

Author's Note

The inside back cover of the journal is covered in scribbles and shaky writing. Most of it is illegible lines and furious scribbles, clearly from multiple writing sessions and done with different pens. This is the only legible portion. There's nothing else in this book.

Inside of the back cover

hellhell hellhell hell hell hell hellhell hell
hell |\
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/||\
hell
|_|__||_|__hellhellp
m
helpme help me
Help me
Help me