**WARNING:** When you read this story, it will feel disjointed, surreal, slightly uncomfortable. That's the point. Pay close attention to the tense changes.

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Hakim Nassar woke up. 

First off, it wasn't his bed, unless someone snuck into his room and ninja-redecorated in a boring shade of beige. He didn't keep a stapler by his bed. Or an HR-approved calendar. He went for kittens, just for irony's sake, and spent five months regretting it.

Also, his pillow wasn't made of of square plastic buttons.

He raised his head - *ow, my neck, ow* - and stared at the spreadsheet. Some idiot had typed "DDDDDDD"  a few thousand times, until the software noticed and politely suggested he just Copy and Paste.

Right. The Lieber proposal. The one that was so critical, it couldn't be taken off company servers. The one he needed to have ready for the big meeting tomorrow morning.

The cube farm was dark, and so was the view out the windows. Kinda pretty, actually.

Hakim yawned.

He could...he could fire up his data plan and go on Tumblr. Or Youtube.

Or he could drink coffee.

He scratched his beard.

He needed coffee.

The break room was out of pods.

Didn't the mail guy keep a stash in his desk? He'd never miss *one*, right?

As it happened, he probably would, considering that it was the last one in the drawer. Hakim slammed it shut with a little more force than necessary. He frowned, looked around the room-

Was that ceiling tile crooked?

Turned out it was. Turned out someone hid a package up there. A package with one open end, addressed to Vorcetti, in Finance.

*Except Vorcetti Sought Other Opportunities three months ago.

The date on the package is today.

And the mail guy's **way** too anal to not notice that ceiling tile for three months.*

"Technically," Hakim said to the Copier, "If someone *else* illegally opened the box, then *I* won't get dinged for breaking the law. I'm just *investigating* the crime."

*Good point*, the Copier said. *Go for it.*

Inside the box was another box. Plain brown paper. The little sticky seal was broken, and it had...

A collar. In a little plastic bag.

Hakim smiled. "I *see*," he said.

It was a plain, black, leather collar. Completely normal, except for the size, and the padding on the inside. Humans didn't have fur to protect their skin, after all.

"Huh. Is this a woman's or men's collar?"

*Try it and see,* the Copier urged.

"Should I?" Hakim bit his lip. "I really shouldn't-"

*Who are they going to complain to?*

"Good point. Aaand it fits. Men's collar? One size fits all?"

*Sit on my face.*

"What?"

*Take off your pants and sit on my face.*

"But won't they-"

*Switch to greyscale and turn up the contrast. They won't be able to tell you're not white.*

"Well, that would work, but-"

*Then you stick the copies in the paper tray, face up, with a bunch more pages on top-*

"So everyone who prints or copies something ends up with my butt on the back. That's *evil*."

*Evil is not having any Keurig pods for you to steal.*

A brief word about the Copier. It had lids, trays, inputs, outputs, wireless, ID, the approximate operating complexity of an light artillery piece. It did not, unfortunately, have a single bell nor whistle.

In other words, it was your standard office copier.

Hakim had downloaded a copy of the manual, and spent a few days paging through it. He was now roughly as familiar with the apparatus as the mail guy himself.

Except the mail guy never learned how to override the lockout code that activated at 6, to keep the cleaning ladies from using the copier. Orders from Corporate.

As he unbuckled his belt, something occurred to him; he had a perfect alibi! Even if they figured out when the butt-copies were made, the machine clearly couldn't be working at that time. "It must be a glitch!," they'd say! "We don't know when it actually happened!" they'd say.

Of course, he could just clear the print server, but *that* would leave a timestamp...

The glass was cool against his nuts, and a bolt of lightning raced through his spine for an instant. What if it cracked...? 

But no, it held. He sighed, and tapped the START button.

Now, as you may have surmised, Hakim was no longer thinking clearly. The collar he wore was influencing him, putting subtle influences into his mind.

You see where this is going.

Hakim wondered, once again, why the copier manufacturers all used that particular shade of green light. Probably something to do with wavelengths. They had taught him something about it in high school, back in Mr Peabody's class.

He slumped down a little, closed his eyes. He had, in fact, learned that the image of his rear was in the copier's buffer, and so he could get off at any time. But for some reason, he had temporarily forgotten. And for that matter, the aforementioned green lightbar swept across the plate for every copy made.

An observer, had there been any, might have noticed how the image had changed. Hakim's rear seemed larger, rounder. *Well, it's just 'cause he changed position. No, wait, that can't be it - he stopped moving, and it's still growing. Is there a glitch?*

And then this observer would look at Hakim himself, and their jaw would drop.

Hakim himself would not notice, being lost, as he was, in memories of Mr. Peabody's physics class. He looks to his left; Carl Hendricks, just like usual. He looks to his right. Haylie Farragut, just like usual. She is a dragon, which is not like usual.

The copies of Hakim's bottom were, perhaps, a little darker. His cock stirred.

He looks to his left. Carl is also a dragon. And so is the person in front, and the person behind, and Mr. Peabody, and everyone in the classroom. Male, female, black, white, green, red, all colors.

They look at him.

*Choose.*

"Choose what?" Hakim says.

They rise from their seats.

*Choose.*

"Choose *what*?" Hakim says. 

They draw closer. He can't see the windows. Can't breathe-

*Choose!*

"*Okay, okay*!" Hakim says. 

He points, at random, and the crowd parts, to give a good look at his selection. It's a dragoness, in black and blue, with gold horns and a third eye on her forehead.

The membrane over the third eye blinks with the other two.

"Good choice," she says, as one claw strokes the penis in her lap.

Hakim opened his eyes and sat up. 

*Fell asleep.*

He looked around. All quiet on the mail room front. He looked down. The copier was still vibrating, the bar still swept back and forth, back and forth. Black scales crept around the curves of his bottom, and his penis was slightly larger.

*Nothing wrong.*

Perhaps, under normal circumstances, Mr. Nassar would ask himself why he had selected such a large number of copies.

Perhaps not. He was working without coffee, after all.

This time, he didn't fall into a tainted memory, but a new fantasy. In this one, he is the dragon. Wings, third eye, ambiguous gender , the lot. And, incongruously, she is sitting in a car. A fast car.

Blue and red lights flash in the mirror.

An officer appears at the window.

Hakim's spine popped, lengthened. He didn't notice, being faced with a decision. Male or female officer? Randomly, he decided...female.

The lady cop gets out a "Sir-" before her mouth falls open, and she just stares at Hakim. She goes "Ma'a-", then she notices the dick, manages not to roll her eyes, and just says "Do you know how fast you were going?"

"Exactly fifteen miles over the speed limit," Hakim says. He feels the faint tingle of his Power.

"Fifte-" The cop stops, glares at him. "Is that a costume?"

"Not at all. Look at my forehead."

And he opens his third eye.

She stares. He leans out the window, bites her on the arm, spilling just enough rich, salty blood.

"I want you to go back to your partner."

"Yes, sir."

"Say I attacked you."

"Yes, sir."

"And when they get close-"

"Sir?"

The dragoness smiles. "Change. You'll know what to do."

Hakim blinked, scratched his narrow waist, adjusted his wide hips for a more secure seat.

The display blinked an angry red at him. *OUT OF PAPER*.

He hopped off, stumbled a little as the remains of his pants and shoes hampered his footing, and walked to the nearest cabinet. His claws went *click click* on the tile floor. 

His legs were mostly done changing, just rounding out with fat and muscle. He might've looked ridiculous, then, dragon from the waist down, and human from the waist up. Except for the third eye in his forehead, of course. And the fact that his spine was far too long. 

And, perhaps, the lumps near his shoulder blades.

The cupboard was locked, presumably to protect vital strategic paper supplies from the employee menace. 

Hakim sighed, and ripped the door off the hinges. *There.*

As he walked - strutted - back to his perch, it occurred to him that he had made a mess. Still, nothing conclusive, nothing that could be tied back to him. And when everyone would be surprised by his fat patootie on every available surface in the office, he'd just look innocent, confused. Just like everyone else.

He sat back down, dug his feet into the side of the copier, like a gargoyle, like an eagle on a crag. He tapped the START button with his finger, a finger with a single black nail on it.

He walks into the office, in his boring human guise. Plain old Hakim. The receptionist nods at him, says he's late.

He leans over the desk, and smiles at her, and then his neck shoots out, longer than any human. His kiss comes as a shock.

His neck shot out, longer than any human. The scales are starting to creep up his back, and he wriggled a little to give his tail room to emerge. It knocked back the lid, but he didn't care, didn't give a single crap.

The receptionist jerks back, touching her lips, staring at Hakim as his neck retracts, like a fishing line. Her eyes go wide, then she blinks. Her mouth goes slack.

Some of her teeth are sharp.

He took his penis in one hand. It was large, far too large for him to hold. For now. The head had smoothed down, and the gold color of the rest of his dick was darkening where the head had been.

She relaxes in her chair, begins to twitch. Hakim runs to the door to the inner office, shouts that she's having a seizure. Concerned employees gather. Some pull out their phone, call 911. Some pull her out of her chair, and lay her on the ground.

The dick shreds her skirt as it appears. Some of the employees recoil. Hakim takes the handcuffs - a little souvenir from the traffic stop - and locks the outer doors. The only way out, in fact, short of taking the window.

And then, he reveals his true form.

And the screams begin.

The copier had changed itself to color at some point. It still left his golden penis, and the crimson tip, looking washed out.

Or, or, he could just come in like it was a normal day, wait for everyone to notice.

Maybe he'd walk into the boss's office, service her, get a performance re-

No.

His right hand went still.

That wasn't right.

The black and blue scales paused at his chest, like they were waiting for something.

That something turned out to be his chest swelling into massive breasts. They weren't that large, proportionately, but Hakim was *big*. He wouldn't quite scrape the ceiling if he hopped down off his perch, but...close. Someone could think they were implants, except for the natural sag and also no one makes breast implants for dragons.

Speaking of which...

The scales covered his breasts. They were mostly covered in the hard - but still flexible - blue scutes, with black areolae and golden nipples, the same color as Hakim's dick. Without the red tip.

Better if he made the boss perform. Make her suck his cock - his breasts - both. She'd shove her under the desk, and then she'd change. He wouldn't even be able to see it; he'd have to tell by the smell, the feel of her head, the way her tongue changed.

His left index rubbed a nipple thoughtfully, scraping her claw around it.

But...why stop at just one?

His right hand picked up again.

What if...what if he sent HR an anonymous tip? Let them know that he was the one on the copier.

Blue scales, up the front of his throat. Black, up the sides. A golden ridge, up his back, curling over the top of his forehead, pointing at his third eye. Two smaller horns broke through his skin at an angle.

It almost looked like a crown.

Hakim closed his eyes, then opened them. They were gold, with vertical slits. Much the same as his third eye, though that eye was sideways, so the slit was technically horizontal. Just like the dragon in his...dream? Vision? Both?

He could...he could wait for HR to follow the trail. The boss calls him into her office closes the door. Fires him.

He walks out, and gets medieval. They could run, of course, but-

Hakim smiled. His teeth were sharp.

He pumped faster. The lumps on his back bulged, like something was trying to get out.

She takes that cute girl, Luca, to the ground. Rips off her skirt. Her claws score the skin, and the smell of blood, of prey, only makes her more excited. She lines up her dick carefully. Luca goes quiet.

And she drives in.

Luca arches her back, gasps, and starts to change-

Hakim's wings erupted from her back. They knock notices, papers off the bulletin board behind her, but they didn't matter. Nothing mattered but her own pleasure, her own joy.

She freed her 

*(talons)*

feet from the copier, planted them on the tile. Then she ground her pussy on the corner of the copier, bottom to top, bottom to top. Especially the top, especially that one little button-

Her feet slipped, and she fell back, hard.

The glass cracked under the weight of her rear. It didn't get through, she could probably run barbed wire through her anus without a scratch. She was stronger now. Sexier.

She squeezed herself tight with both hands, as something hot welled up in her.

*Better*.

And she came. She hit the floor, jerked her cock upward to give half of the room a good coating. Might as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb. It landed on paper, mail, the counter, the Keurig, everything. It'd take days to clean it up.

They weren't gonna *get* days.

And then, a cooldown. Both her and the copier. Her tongue hung out, like a dog. The air reeked of toner, of her pleasure-

Someone was coming. Trying to be quiet. And they probably would be, if she was still a plain old human.

Hakim smiled. Then she looked down, at what used to be her clothes. Too small, now. Much too small. And ripped. Never made to stand up to a dragon.

*Well. I can't wear **this**.*

-----

Luca pushed the glass doors to the cube farm open.

Okay. There should be no one there but the cleaning lady-

There was a light on in the mail room, a faint hum. Luca did not swear. 

Not externally.

She walked over to the door, as quiet as she could. Someone was blocking the light, and she took a quick peek around the door frame.

Then she stepped out.

Stared.

There was a dragoness in the mail room, sitting on the copier.

There was a dragoness in the mail room, and *it was wearing her collar*. 

*And* it was wearing a...sexy business lady costume? The dark suit, the shirt unbuttoned to show off her massive  boobs - Yandy probably had nothing that fit that *cujo grande*, though. And the size. And the corset wrapped around her "suit", in a slightly different shade of black.

And it was looking at her.

It had business-lady glasses on. "Sexy librarian", more like. They looked completely ridiculous, because *she was a dragon*.

It waved.

"Luca! Hi!"

"Um."

The dragoness looked down, then reached up and traced the collar, the leather. It looked her in the eyes again-

"*You* hid this?"

The dragoness in the mail room tapped her chin - her muzzle? - with one black claw.

"Let me guess; you didn't want your sweetie finding it in your mail and ruining the surprise, but you didn't want to get dinged for receiving personal mail at work."

*"Dinged"? Wait a second-*

"...Nassar?"

The dragoness in the mail room spread its arms. And its wings. "Well, yeah, who else would it be?"

"You look...different."

"I *feel* different." Hakim hopped off the copier - oh, okay, no, she was clearly not *completely* female. Luca's daughter had that chart...ze? Zer? Hir, that was the pronoun. And shi. "I feel *great*."

Shi was *big*. Not just tall - her horns and wings scraped the ceiling -

*(what's that smell?)*

but shi just kinda *took over* the room, like it was hers. Like the way you felt walking into someone's bedroom. 

The mail room didn't feel lived-in.

But it did feel occupied. *Full*.

*...I shoulda just rented a mail box.*

The skirt covered *most* of hir cock, left a few inches of flesh. It bounced a little as shi walked.

Luca swallowed. She wasn't sure why.

Hakim pulled the collar off her neck.

Luca stepped back. She looked at Hakim's face, hir wings, hir chest, hir cock-

*I should run.*

Another step back.

*I really, really should run.*

"Know what, Luca?" Hakim held out the collar. "You need to accessorize."

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#"Hard Copy"
2016 Nequ
Feel free to write fan stories.