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.