The panel of masters scowled at her, and Clair scowled right back. Despite being one of the Dragon Clan’s most promising trainers—and, as Blackthorn Gym Leader, one of its most visible—she didn’t get along well with the leaders of her clan. She found them to be stodgy, apprehensive, doddering; in short, they were just holding her back.

The dragon masters, for their part, hadn’t made their disdain for her hidden either, and this time, it seemed things were going to come to a head.

“Your behavior is unbecoming of a Gym Leader and of a member of our clan.” The elder, the foremost leader of the masters, was glaring down at her.

Clair crossed her arms beneath her breasts, shooting venom his way. “I don’t see any issue with how I’m handling my Gym, you senile old fool!”

The panel of dragon masters gasped and tittered, and one iron-haired old biddy wagged her finger at Clair. “Our clan is supposed to have the wisdom of dragons,” she said. “Instead, you have a dragon’s temper!”

Clair’s mouth twitched with a smile. That didn’t seem like such a bad thing.

“Once again, you have conjured up a reason to avoiding your responsibilities and not give a victorious trainer a badge,” the elder said. “You claim they are not ready, that they lack character, that the use of items—sanctioned by the League, might I add—is improper. And this time—”

“This is the Johto League,” Clair cut in, growling. “That interloper from Hoenn had a team of foreign pokemon without one species that can be found on our shores. It hardly seems fair!”

“You cannot keep inventing reasons to ignore your losses!” the elder shot at her. “You are shaming the clan; you shame Dragon-type pokemon themselves!”

“The only shame is that we allow ourselves to be ridden roughshod over by lesser trainers!” Clair’s voice was high-pitched with rage and she was jabbing a finger at the elder. “Something that you all could sympathize with if you weren’t brimming with dishonor and cowardice!”

This time there was no chorus of gasps. Instead, a flash of light filled the room as a poke ball was released—when it was finished, Clair found herself suddenly bound tightly by the elder’s pokemon, a lean yet powerful Dragonair.

“Wh-what—let me—go!” she demanded.

The elder gazed down at her dispassionately. “I hoped it would not come to this, but it seems you are determined to shame us to the last. The Dragon Clan exists to serve draconic pokemon. As Gym Leader, your job was to be a paradigm of them to the world at large. That job is evidently too much for you. Nevertheless, we have found a different way for you to serve dragons.”

The Dragonair tightened its coils about her and swept its bauble-tipped tail under her feet, leaving Clair to tumble to the floor with a wail. “What are you doing?” she demanded.

“You have a dragon’s temper,” the elder replied, folding his arms into his sleeves. “It only fits that the rest of you follows suit. You shall have a dragon’s voice, a dragon’s skin, a dragon’s eyes.” As he spoke, the Dragonair was shifting—and Clair’s breath caught as the tip of the pokmeon’s tail snaked under her skirt, hooking her panties and dragging them low. Exerting force on her, the pokemon maneuvered Clair so that her now-exposed pussy was positioned near the Dragonair’s loins—loins from which a growing pair of prominent hemipenes were steadily emerging.

She locked eyes with the elder, suddenly terrified, and he met her gaze. “A dragon’s womb,” he finished.

Clair had heard the stories, how in ancient times Dragon-type pokemon had been rendered almost extinct, and so the gods had blessed her clan with a special power to propagate with them. Any member of the Dragon Clan who mated with a Dragon-type pokemon would become a pokemon of that species, in order to introduce genetic variance and help rare species stay alive.

Most dismissed the story as an old tale. But Clair knew it was all too true.

“You will be a breeder,” the iron-haired woman said, as attendants rushed in.