"Why do I feel... Emptier there?"

At once you are aware of a change in the atmosphere of the room. All footsteps have ceased; all sound, save for some distinctly throaty and sensuous hissing and yipping that can be heard echoing through the chamber from some of the anonymous spectators. You look around, quickly realising that there are no more partially-obscured kobold schlongs dangling down at your eye-level. Instead, taut, leathery sacks hefting apricot-sized koballs can be glimpsed hanging beneath a great number of engorged, straining pseudo-draconic phalli.

The sight of the effect of your new... State on these primitive, carnally-motivated kobold cultists is accompanied by the steady rise of a scent which your sniffing muzzle attunes to immediately; as if an entire reptile house were humming in anticipation and readiness to subdue and breed. The new crevice near your tail-hole begins to juice slightly, releasing a few drops of a translucent nectar smelling faintly of flowers. For the first time since your arrival, you experience true fear. Nobold is looking at you like you're a kobold anymore, or a human, or any sort of person.

"Do you-doubt my number-magic now, Ruin-Pillage? Studsaurus has made-gave us something not-seen since his Endowment-Blessing was passed to us, many-many-manys ago. Not since then have the Children needed egg-bearings- the Children never dwindle- yet in the Forever-Before there was femme-maleness."

"... Ones like Kobold, with no measure of male divine right to power, instead a second breeding hole meaning only for egg-bearing and male-pleasing..." The priest licks his lips, not bothering to hide the demanding throbbing of his dragon-cock, the largest of all of theirs. "The Children don't egg-bear no-more. Only meaning lefts for It's being, and It's sweet-smell dick-sleeve, is male-pleasing."

Turning, the Priest addresses the entire shadowy congregation this time, speaking in Yipyak to be heard all kobold ears. By virtue of the residual summoning magic, you've just about understood everything he's said up to this point in Draconic... More or less. Now the magic is unneeded, and quickly dissipates entirely, leaving no trace of your bygone humanity. As a so-called 'femme-male' kobold, it is your good fortune to be able to understand the gospel words your Priest preaches, for real... At least when in Yipyak.

"Staddzaarruss has once more favoured our strong-might, our male-good-virileness, and our offered shiny-shinies, by sending us component of make-make for ancient kobold breed-toy. The unmale you see-see is hollow kobold, with no Divine Maleness of its own. It doesn't any needings or wantings like male-bold do, except the needing for fill-full with maleness, and the wanting for males to make using It, for what males always wanting."

As if to prove his point that you are a gift for his people, with no interests of your own beyond what he's ascribing to you, the Priest grabs your tail firmly and holds it up, showing off the soaked, pheromone-misting cock canal on offer between your plump claw-printed buttocks. The longer you have been listening to him talk about you in this way, the stronger the flowery smell emanating from your nethers has grown. There can be no doubt in any cold-blooded kobold male's mind now of how desperately aroused you have been getting- you can't help yourself but wiggle and mewl pitifully at the unbearable itching you can feel stemming from that new, needy emptiness inside you (though your vocalisations are faithfully ignored by the throng of disciplined but ravenous-looking kobolds appraising all your body has to offer them).

It's not just that the Priest is right about you... You want him to be right about you, more than you've ever wanted anything. You wish that the only fulfilment you'll ever need, or find, will come to you on the end of a throbbing, pounding, blessedly-endowed divine kobold cock...