To the University

You take a look in the direction of the alley where all the noise is coming from, but the growing crowd, including many large anthros and a few dragons, prevents you from seeing what's happening and you don't feel like barging your way past to find out what all the excitement is about right now. It could easily end up with your face in another butt or two, and your nose is still recovering from the hot gas the badger passed. It might be better to continue into town, you think, and as you look past the direction of the market at town center, you see the domed roof of Landsing University glittering in the afternoon sun on its hilltop, supported by its prodigious marble pillars and sloping stone stairs on all sides. Of course! You feel a little foolish for having forgotten your appointment with your old professor Dr. Grufftun, but in all the excitement of the new city and so many unfamiliar sights (and smells), such lapses in memory are to be expected. Moving down the central alley, you continue into the heart of the marketplace and towards the University.

The air is filled with vendors of all species hawking every type of good you could want, from foods to clothing, but as the largest gatherings appear to be around the fresh fruits and vegetables, you make your way towards the dried goods and textiles at the other end of the market from where you entered. While not shoulder to shoulder at this side of the market at this hour, you still have to patiently work your way around those browsing and moving past stalls, almost knocked over by a fat tiger who isn't paying attention to where he's going, and having a much closer call as you come within inches of bumping into the very dirty diapers of two pandas who are shopping for spices. You hold your nose and grimace as you back away, wondering if you'll ever get used to smells like that, thankful that at least diapering isn't a universal habit amongst the anthro population here. You feel a paw brush your hair as you move past the next stall where painted pottery is being advertised with incredible enthusiasm by a middle-aged osprey, and turn to see a huge coyote licking his lips and propping up the bulge in his loincloth with a fat paw as he smiles down at you. Shaking your head, you manage to move through the worst of the crowd at this end around a stall selling dried fruit spiced with cinnamon and various sugars, finally able to reach the closest arcade you can use to make your way to the plaza.

Unfortunately for you, a huge pair of dragons, one with golden and the other with silver scales, were waiting as soon as you headed beneath the archway, clearly intending to trap an unsuspecting passerby for a little fun. Each beast snickers as they see you coming, greeting you with, "Why, lovely meeting you here, little friend! We have a surprise for you..." before turning around and lifting their thick scaly tails. You don't have to see the pink of their anuses or their dangling erections to know what's coming as they back their large rear ends towards you simultaneously, pivoting slightly on a hind claw with the intention of squashing you in-between them.

Frammmmpppt! Plurrrrrrmmpppt!

Gold and silver reptile rumps respectively release their massive farts on either side of you, but you reach out your arms and push off against either bottom before you're sandwiched between them, managing to move past them and further up the alley. You still get a faceful of their flatulence, though, and shake your head as you feel a bit dizzy; the badger's butt was nothing compared to the volume and stench these big beasts just produced. You cough slightly as you groan and use your whole arm to fan the air, as in spite of not being caught directly downwind, the clouds are large enough to spread through the covered space, providing fair warning to any other smaller travelers thinking of making their way through here. The dragons pout and frown at you as you shake your head and tell them you need to keep moving and don't have time to be their plaything right now, but then snort and shrug and return to watching the market entrance to their tunnel, hoping to find another little friend to squash on. You head into the plaza at the base of the University, grateful for a little fresh air and giving your shirt a little sniff to make sure it doesn't smell too horrible as you'd hate to offend Dr. Grufftun.

There is a lovely fountain in the center of the plaza crowed with a statue of the god Kolkumet as he embraces Astru, his bear lover, arms around his shoulders with his head cradled in the anthro's strong chest, a traditional pose common among sculptures. The streams from the man's and ursine's penises fill the basin in which many copper and bronze coins can be seen, deposited by visitors and students over the years to wish for good fortune in their studies and romantic affairs. There are a few students milling about the fountain, practicing their incantations in hushed tones as they squint over copious scrolls, chatting with one another about classes or professors, or just enjoying the autumn afternoon with a good book. They are all in their early to middle twenties, and you recall Dr. Grufftun mentioning that this was the age at which magical aptitude began to flourish in individuals, so all aspiring mages on this half of the continent traveled to begin classes at Landsing University as soon as they could produce a tuft of flame at the tips of their fingers or transmute bronze into gold. You hear a moan and a loud fart and turn to see a fat and fluffy purple dragon enjoying some students at both ends, as she scoots and passes gas again on a human seat and uses a foreclaw to push a stoat a little further inside her vagina, headfirst. The human's robes lie a little to the right of her tail, overlapped by a bright golden sash, next to which is the anthro's loincloth.

Even at the University, it appears many anthros prefer not to wear much clothing, in contrast to the human students' time-honored velvet robes and gold or silver sashes, but this might go back to tribal, shamanistic anthro practices in comparison to human wizardry traditions, something that seems to be confirmed by the number of tattoos you can observe in the coats of a group of foxes as they walk past the fountain. The lack of clothing of course serves the anthros here as well as anywhere else, as you watch a fat alligator yank the sash off a man with a clawtip, letting his robes fall to smooth cobblestones before pressing his face into his sweating ball-scales with a loud moan. He reverses the human's position and shoves him deep into his pale buttocks before passing some gator gas in his face with a grunt and a throaty chuckle. You shake your head and fan the air a little as one of his nastier toots drifts in your direction from the closeness of the pair, deciding that's probably enough gawking for today, but a whoosh of wings catches your attention once more as soon as you are turning towards the stone stairs. A huge dragon with emerald scales has landed in a grassy alcove in the northwest corner of the plaza and is squatting with his tail flagged. Remembering the earlier incident at the village gates less than an hour ago, you start to turn away in mild embarrassment, but the dragon's dumping is so quick and messy, he's done before you have time to do so, and immediately after he's finished, a very filthy man and a ferret stand up in the shallow pile of poop he's made. Curious now, you watch as they converse with the dragon for a moment, wiping their hands and paws in the grass before reaching into their purses and placing a few copper coins into the pouch he wears about his neck. The dragon nods and thanks them, and trots off in the direction of a waving newt as she shouts to get his attention. With a nod, he opens his maw wide and jerks his neck forward, taking the student into his mouth and gulping her down in a swift motion while the filthy ferret summons an enormous bubble of water and encases both him and his human companion to wash the dragon's poop off themselves as the bubble bursts and flows like an encapsulated waterfall. As you watch the dragon fly off with the salamander bulging his scaly belly, letting out a noisy belch as his cock flags as much as his tail did moments ago, the realization dawns on you that this must be a form of transportation for students without wings of their own, possibly over longer distances or to destinations outside of town. You suppose there must be a spell used to move the occupants much faster through the dragon's insides than usual- as normal passage of prey takes at least 3-4 hours from mouth to anus- and wonder how common and preferable this is to walking; at least the dragon seemed to really enjoy it, and the now much cleaner students are headed up the stairs to the south entrance.

You do the same, feeling another rush of awe as the University seems to grow even larger as you ascend the hill. The wooden doors are inscribed with runes you can't comprehend, but seem to open just fine when you pull at the golden handles and make your way inside. The University is organized around the central dome in a rotunda, with classrooms towards the south and east and the offices of the professors along the western walls of the ring, though it takes some time to figure this out as you furtively peek into the little windows of each room you pass, seeing professors of all species, including dragons, giving lectures to students on a wide variety of magical subjects. Levitating objects, communing with the departed, alchemical potions and tonics, and control of the elements, the last done in a much larger room for safety, look to be a few of the classes being given this afternoon, and you can only guess at the myriad of other courses being offered as you pass rooms with interiors made entirely of bronze or draped in strange swirling mists. A flushing sound as you pass by a room near the southwest of the ring confirms that there are flushing toilets, and you wonder how many students end up stuck to the backsides of eager dragons after a fresh dump like the parakeet you see glued to the butt-fur of a horny eastern dragon as she trots from the toilets. The chatter of students echoes off the walls and fills the air as they congregate and pass beneath the great marble dome which encompasses a wide open area overlooking a brilliant swath of golden marble flooring, flecked with white- it is this centralized location around which all other rooms are arranged, and you can dimly make out the silhouette of a dragon in the stained glass of the dome's underside as you crane your neck briefly to look while wandering through this area. The loud farts of a horny black dragon and a couple crocodiles as they sit and rub on some human students are amplified by the vastness of the interior, and you have a feeling that sound must be heard at most hours of the day when everyone isn't in class.

Passing by the entrance to the library at the northern end of the school, you hear the grinding of wood and peek inside to see the shelves rearranging, seemingly at random as an unobservant ram is nearly knocked over as a bookcase pitches forwards. With the levitating tomes almost half your size and the myriad of floating ink wells and darting quills in the air, you think perhaps its best to have Dr. Grufftun assist you if you need to borrow any books, and continue searching for his office, frowning as you hope he isn't giving a lecture at this time. You finally give up and ask for directions and a helpful lynx points you a few doors down from your current position. You give a few knocks on the heavy oaken frame and a very familiar, crotchety voice beckons you to come inside. The old goat stands amidst a tidy series of pages, forming many little stacks on his crowded wooden desk, though their orderliness forms a sharp contrast to the plethora of dusty volumes scattered through the office, along with an upturned pouch of crystals, a broken wand on a side-table that appears to be in the process of being mended, and various bones chained together by a thin silver thread under a glass display, all of which are positioned haphazardly in the cramped but oddly comfortable study. Dr. Grufftun shuffles a few papers he is holding, squinting at them through his little spectacles, and gives a tug at his little gray beard before a polite cough from you catches his attention.

"Ah! You're here!" Dr. Grufftun's smile fills the room as he sets down his papers, moving forward with a little tap of his hooves on the floorboards to grasp your hand firmly between his paws, "I got your letter about five days ago, and have been eagerly expecting you ever since. As I always say, A man who is punctual to meetings is a man who is punctual to life's important events."

"It's great to see you, too, professor," you pat his paw with your hand as he peers up at you over his spectacles, a head shorter than he used to be in his advanced age, "I read all about the University in your letters, but I could scare imagine the town would be so incredible, and Landsing itself is marvelous. I envy your position here, truly."

"The wonder never fades, I daresay," Dr. Grufftun claps his paws together and then pulls at his beard a few times as he thinks, "Ah! Yes, I have something to show you... I think you'll like this..."

He retreats towards the back of the study and rummages in a nearby shelf, looking through some loose pages in several large tomes and leather folios before pulling out a thick file and bringing it to the desk. He unwinds the little strap from its metal fastener, then leafs through a few papers before unfurling a document that is large enough to be a map.

"This is a project I've been working on since I've arrived here, a chart classifying every type of dragon that lives in Igrandramnyr and the surrounding locale. As you can see, I've got the specifications for the physicality and anatomy of the main species outlined..." The chart shows several dragons you've encountered already, each pictured standing in profile with all major externals labeled, including the western variety, the eastern with scales and that with fur, the western with fur, and a western with feathered wings you haven't encountered yet. As the professor shifts through a few accompanying pages, you can see he's indeed been compiling anatomical studies in his spare time and decide not to ask how many throats, stomachs, tail-holes and genitals he's become intimate with for the hours it must've taken to produce these sketches.

"But I'm afraid I simply haven't the mind or the skills to capture the spirit of these dragons, their practices and their cultures," he shows you a few loose notes with various half-paragraphs and snippets from dragon legends and mythology, alongside what appear to be mating practices and general horny behaviors, but all of the writing is fragmented and indistinct, and he shakes his head as he sets these pages aside, "And I recall from your essays and questions during lectures that you were very much interested in dragons as a people. So I was hoping you might be willing to join me in this project as my research assistant."

"I'd be honored to do so, professor!" You take his paw in your hand, head spinning with excitement as you realize a wonderful job opportunity has essentially fallen into your lap before you even needed to ask, and working alongside a man you love and respect, nonetheless! "What exactly would you need me to do?"

"Oh, it's really all very simple, honestly," the old goat cleans his glasses with a little pearl handkerchief from his coat pocket. Despite being at an academy for mages, he still wears the old lab coat. "You merely need to spend time with as many dragons as possible, talk with them, ask them about their lives, the stories they know, how they like to enjoy themselves..." he gave a little baa and a chuckle, "Let them enjoy themselves with you. Really their sexual side is quite fascinating. Might even be able to spin enough into a popular book, giving the advances in printing over the past few years..."

You open your mouth to ask about accommodations, given that your funds are still very limited, but the professor anticipates your question and speaks first.

"Oh! And you needn't worry about finding a local inn so long as you're working here," Dr. Grufftun goes to a desk drawer and withdraws a little key around an iron ring, "You can stay in my apartments. I've got an extra room that you can share with Horftam."

"Who is Horftam?" you ask as you take the key.

"Oh, I'm sure he's resting around here somewhere, he always takes a little nap around this time of the day," the goat cups his paws to either side of his mouth and calls out, "Horftam! Come here, my dear boy, and say hello to an old colleague of mine, your new roommate."

There is a loud yawning from the back of the study and what you had taken to be a particularly large pile of loose papers and old books shifts and grumbles, rising with a series of light thumps and flutters as the clutter falls away to reveal the largest silver dragon you've ever seen, nearly one-and-a-half times as tall, and wide, as any others you've encountered since your arrival. Horftam spreads and stretches his wings a moment before folding them, and you see the beautiful blend of white and gray plumage like that of an enormous bird, striking in contrast to the leathery scales that cover the rest of his body, save for a little tuft of feathers forming a tiny beard that bears a striking resemblance to Dr. Grufftun's. The huge dragon scratches himself with a hind leg a moment, yawns widely again, then plods over to where you and the professor are standing, inclining his large head after blinking a few times to try and be more awake.

"I am called Horftam, and it is wonderful to meet you," the dragon purrs and exhales warm air through his snout as he nuzzles against your face.

"It is nice to meet you as well," you say after introducing yourself, scratching at the white scales of the dragon's neck and petting along the silver edge of his snout.

"I don't think you will have any disagreements to my friend sharing your apartment with you, will you?" Dr. Grufftun fondly strokes along the reptile's frilled ears as the dragon purrs more deeply, nuzzling at his friend's chest, "He will be helping me with my dragon studies."

"Not at all, I love meeting new friends and having company," the silver beast brushes his snout across your face once more, giving you a few large sniffs, "I can smell you've become familiar with a few dragons and anthros already, my new friend."

"Yes, they seem to have quite an interest in playing with me," you smile and shake your head as the dragon chuckles.

"Well, since that is the case, and being I just awoke from my afternoon nap..." Horftam presses his large snout into your chest more firmly, until the weight and pressure sends you falling backwards. Perhaps it is from experience, or perhaps it is a natural skill, but his claws seem to have no trouble in getting your pants and underwear unbuttoned before swiftly removing your shirt with his teeth, your vest with a single tug of his claw. You look to the professor in dismay as the dragon takes off your boots with alarming speed, not liking the ominous grumbling you can hear from the beast's big belly.

"Oh, don't worry, there's no need to be concerned," Dr. Grufftun waves a paw in dismissal as he sits in a nearby chair and opens a book to the marked page, speaking distractedly as he reads, "My dragon friend is just having a little fun with you after his nap, and this will be valuable experience for your studies. Enjoy it and see if you can make some mental notes, practice your observations."

As Horftam's guts rumble again and he pivots overtop of you, you realize you're about to be in for a long sit as his fat hindquarters, gleaming with soft pearly-white scales and a large silvery anus, loom overtop of you for a few moments, the dragon chuckling as he shakes his rump side to side before slowly descending over your bare chest and face. There is an audible squashing sound from all of his scaly fat as it presses over you, feeling incredibly warm as the cool floorboards feel hard on your back and shoulders, and the heat coming from the dragon's butt and anus causes you to start perspiring almost immediately. You can hear little squashing sounds as he scoots on top of you to get comfortable, then there's the wet smooch of his tail-hole over your face and another long grumble which is unmistakably emanating from his bowels. At a very muffled grunt from the dragon, somewhere above you...

Frrrrannnnmmmppptt! Purrrppt! POOT!

Horftam's farts burble from his rear in a series of wet eruptions, thundering over your face and assaulting your nose all at once, as the dragon relieves himself repeatedly on top of you, then sits back with a sigh. You grimace and cough a little but the smell is so strong, reeking of dragon poop and bad eggs and lingering seemingly without end, that you think your nose is still adjusting to the sheer volume and power of the odor and will probably be complaining in the hours to come. Horftam sweats and scoots over your face as his gas lingers hotly, like a rude little fog, a faint rumbling purr indicating that he's both pleased and relieved from the amount of gas he's released, but even before the first massive fart has ceased to stink, there's another grumble from his bowels and the dragon's fat backside shifts a little, his anus never moving from directly overhead.

Prrrunnnmmpptt! Frrrunnntt! PRAMPT!

"Horftam! Sheeeew! You've been eating broccoli again, haven't you?" you can vaguely hear Dr. Grufftun's voice as he chides the dragon above, his words just audible enough to be heard through the layers of scaly fat pressing you down, though his next words are more audible, indicating he's moved closer, "I suppose I should have warned you, he gets incredibly gassy after his nap, and insists on sitting on whoever happens to be nearby to relieve himself. Usually myself."

Well, if you're going to be rooming with the big dragon, and studying dragons to help the professor, you suppose being a fart cushion is going to be at least a daily occurrence, though as Horftam rubs in a few squeaky toots and another brassy, four second rumbler of a fart, you really are starting to get overwhelmed by the stench and decide you've had enough for now. The dragon's bowels continue to grumble, and even though he scoots down once in a while to give you a little air before planting his pucker back down on your nose, he shows no signs of getting off soon.

"Professor Grufftun? A little help here, please?" you hope he can hear your shouts from under Horftam's rear, and repeat your entreaty after the silver dragon finishes blasting another five second burst across your face.