FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The warm glow of the amber streetlights illuminated the empty car park as the inky black dragoness exited the gym and turned around to lock the door. Unlike many of the fancy gyms that offered 24/7 access for their patrons, and countless other premium services that bloated the cost of membership, Ollie's Gym was far more rudimentary and simple, a testament to the owner. It was something Feerah appreciated: no frills, no scams, just an honest place for dragons to lift weights and a large room with a padded floor for various other activities. Every night something different was scheduled, varying between yoga, dance, martial arts, or, in tonight's case, self-defence exclusively for dragonesses.

Turning around, Feerah used the claw on her folded wing to hold the large door closed as she fished out a key from her black nylon harness. Inserting it into the lock, she lifted her other wing to block out the reflections and looked inside. All of the lights were off, the power indicator on the large air conditioner had an amber standby light, and every free weight on the rack was accounted for. Even after clicking the lock closed, she continued to scan the gym for anything out of place. It was more than routine; seeing everything in its rightful place helped calm her troubled mind. Teaching dragonesses how to defend themselves, escape a grapple, and, if necessary, overpower another dragon was rewarding but didn’t come without its emotional toll. Each one came with a story, and it was rarely a happy tale. Abusive exes, cornered by drakes in an alley way, or being a smaller ness receiving unwanted advances from a larger drake were all a common theme, but the most painful were the ones who had to lie to be there because their current partner was the problem. Tonight, her class had been conspicuously one ‘ness short. No call to cancel, no text to reschedule or excuse herself, just absence. Ciiranah was a much younger ‘ness, early twenties, with scales the same shade as a ripe peach mottled with yellow flecks. Petite, and she would have been striking if she had the confidence to hold anyone's gaze. She had arrived three weeks prior with cracked scales on her neck and a look in her eye that Feerah had seen far too often. In the first lesson, she had refused to take part in any of the exercises and instead opted to just watch. Last week had been the first time she had actually participated, and at the end of their class Feerah had managed to extract a few snippets of information from her, before her mate called and she had to suddenly leave.

Tonight, the dragoness's absence had eroded Feerah's concentration over the course of the lesson. While the rest of the class had been taking turns throwing their partner off, Feerah had looked up the dragoness's registration and called her emergency contact, only to find the number she had been given was incorrect. A quick search online of the address listed had brought up a location in a housing estate that hadn't been built yet. Feerah contemplated calling the police; however, she knew that with the fake information she had been given, the chances of anything coming from it were slim at best.

Rotating the key in the lock, Feerah felt the mechanism catch and gave the door a small shake with her wing claw. Confident that it was locked, she extracted the key and paused as she placed it inside her harness shoulder pocket. Something felt wrong. She could feel it on the back of her neck, and she pretended to fumble with the lock for a moment while taking in her surroundings without making it obvious she was alert. Using the reflection, she could see most of the empty car park she scanned it quickly. At the far end there was an abandoned car with its windows smashed and wheels missing, something that had been there for as long as she could remember. Listening intently, she heard nothing over the sounds of suburban nightlife. The occasional owl hooting and a car in the distance with a defective exhaust were the only sounds competing with the buzz of insects attracted to the streetlights. However, Feerah still felt on edge and subtly sniffed the air, her breath catching as she smelled something sweet and well out of place for an evening car park. Baked goods drowned in sugar mixed with a familiar scent that made the corners of her lips fight between curling into a smile or dipping into a frown of concern.

“You always rushed your recon,” Feerah announced, loud enough to make herself heard as she turned around. She did well to hide the look of surprise as she realised just how close her assailant had managed to get. He was now only six paces away, a smirking drake. “It’s spring. The wind blows from the west this time of night.”

“And what makes you think I was hiding from you, Hero?” the drake replied, enunciating the title in a way that made her expression drop to a deadpan stare. Her reaction only seemed to amuse him as he reset his feathered wings, while offering a smug smile. “How have you been?”

Feerah's icy blue eyes flicked from his face and then traced down the pale cream fur that lined his throat, breaking up his otherwise yellow-furred body, and finally lingered on his feathered wings. She knew him well enough to know that he was actually a natural cream colour all over, but regularly paid to dye his coat depending on his taste, the mission, or to avoid consequences. This time, with the luxuries of civilization available to him, he had gone as far as to include amber bands of colour throughout his yellow coat to give his body more texture. Even his wings hadn't escaped his stylist's eye, and instead of the usual tawny shade of tan, they now boasted a range of browns, reds, and greys. Compared to his natural colours, it was flashy and by far the most effort she had seen him put into his disguises. Judging by the fact that she couldn't see any of the natural colours at the roots of his short-haired coat, and that the cream-coloured fur on his chest looked brushed to the point of being incredibly soft, she concluded he must have only recently visited a salon.

How he had managed to sneak up on her was no real surprise. He had always been a stealthy flier. Between his feathered wings and training, he was well equipped to avoid making the telltale sounds of beating wings, especially when he was gliding. She guessed he had likely been circling her without flapping while she locked up, landing while she was distracted. Looking past him briefly at the empty car park again and then observing the nylon tactical harness he wore, she shook her head. “Not interested, Vaalin.”

“I didn't ask you for anything,” the drake replied with a cheerful grin and trotted closer towards her. Folding her wings tighter against her sides, Feerah remained in place as her old squadmate came to a halt before her and began to retrieve something from his harness. “In fact, I even brought you something. Seized from a dock only yesterday. Some migrants hadn’t done their paperwork. But it's still probably the best in the country,” he added, and the sickly sweet scent of baked goods became stronger as he produced a small container.

“Then I'm definitely not interested,” Feerah retorted, but still reached out and took the parcel from the drake. “Gods… you must be desperate. This is the real deal!” she added, turning the package over. To many, the letters would have looked in the wrong order to make anything coherent, but after spending months learning the language, she knew enough Turkish to recognise traditional baklava, made overseas and just the way she liked it.

“Of course it's the real deal. Only the best for the bestest ‘ness,” he added, causing Feerah to tilt her head and glare at him expectantly. In the years she had worked with Vaalin, he was never one to give anything away, let alone a compliment. Everything had a price; everything was a trade, a barter, or a competition.

Holding the package in one paw, she turned it over one last time before reluctantly offering it back to the drake. “I'm retired. And judging by the fact none of the others are here, I know this is yet another one of your stupid plans,” she said, staring with a firmness that almost wiped the smile off the drake's snout. However, instead of taking the sweet treat, the drake simply ignored her outstretched paw and shrugged his wings.

“I’m in need of a professional, the best. So I came to the best ‘ness there is,” he admitted before inspecting a paw. “I haven't bothered the others yet,” he continued, and Feerah could tell he lied. Their relationship had always been competitive, which sometimes made things tense and at other times led to evenings she would never forget. Regardless of her capabilities, she had never known Vaalin to ask her for help, and the few times he had needed it, his request had always been framed as an opportunity for her to be part of something beneficial.

“And besides, my plans are never stupid!” he added, placing his paw back on the ground and looking at her with exaggerated offence. “They always get the job done, even if they are… memorable.”

With a snort, Feerah shook her head and placed the container of baklava on the ground before sitting back on her haunches. “Manila,” she said flatly, and instantly the drake's expression darkened. “That was stupid, and you know it. ‘Danger close’ doesn't mean friendly fire. You still owe me a few scales for that stunt,” Feerah added, angling her snout to one side so he could see the scar that ran down her cheek.

“Oh please… you look better with it. Makes you look intimidating,” Vaalin countered before shrugging his wings. “And we achieved the objective. That's all that counts, right?”

“What was our objective again? Oh, that's right: identify targets for a tactical strike, not set off munitions while I'm still inside…” Feerah replied and raised an eye ridge as the drake chuckled an irreverent laugh. “So, no thank you. I’m out. I have a life now, and I would prefer to enjoy my wings being sore, not missing.”

“A life… is that what you call this?” Vaalin started, his voice equal parts sour and playfully condescending. “Teaching ‘nesses how not to get knocked up and smoking meat on the weekends?” he mused, looking at her with a knowing expression. Feerah clocked his change of tone and knew he was in a hurry. Whatever the plan was, he wasn't getting the answers he needed. The fact that he knew her routine didn't bother her much; intelligence was as much her game as it was his. If she had needed something from him, she would have stalked him for leverage as well.

“What happened to you, Feerah?” he asked, lashing his tail behind him absentmindedly. “Next you're gonna tell me you’re looking to have eggs or something, help out at a bake sale or some shit.”

The image of her sitting behind a stall selling baklava or cookies made Feerah snort in amusement, and the drake looked at her hopefully. “Oh, the Feerah you knew is still here. She got tired of losing everyone. Hell, you left me to go private. By the looks of your fur, I’d say you're doing better without me,” Feerah replied. With a swish of her tail, she curled it around her feet but kept it relaxed enough not to look defensive. “And no, I don't want a cut of the action. This pays the bills just fine,” she added, shutting down his next plan of attack.

“You can't hate a drake for taking a better offer. Don't tell me you miss the chow hall slop,” Vaalin mused, making Feerah hum in acknowledgement. A small silence hung in the air between them as Feerah let him stew in his desperation. She doubted he would ever beg for her help, but there was always a first time for everything. It was only after almost a minute had ticked by that the drake shook his head and looked away. “This is a big one, Feerah. Not as big as Baghdad, but as big as they come stateside.”

Feerah inhaled deeply before slowly exhaling and tilted her head to look at him with condescension. “You would have had me if it was bigger than Baghdad. Why would I risk it all for a runner-up gig?” Feerah asked with a sarcastic glare that broadcast the fact she wasn't actually considering his offer.

Her amusement didn't seem to register with the drake, who ruffled his wings as he turned his head to confirm they were alone. “I take it you know about BTC? The Black Talon Cartel? Organised crime, trafficking, drugs, prostitution, intimidation, and the like?” Vaalin started, but before Feerah could reply, he nodded towards the gym. “One of their little doves came your way. Ciiranah, right? That's the name she gave you?” he continued. Mention of the dragoness who had skipped her class made Feerah's heart skip a beat, and in an instant she was back up on all fours.

“What about her? Do you know where she is?” Feerah barked, but she was dismissed with a nod and a small wave of the drake's furred forepaw.

“She is fine, she is safe and… is now protected,” Vaalin explained, emphasising his choice of words to make it clear what he meant. Witness protection. Feerah could feel herself falling into the drake's web, but as much as she wanted to resist getting entangled in his plans again, she felt she needed to help protect the hurt dragoness.

“Public or private?” Feerah asked, nodding towards the furred drake. “The fact you are asking me suggests you are flying this solo. So I have to ask, how protected is she?”

“This is public work,” Vaalin replied calmly and used a forepaw to lift the flap on a pouch that hung off his harness’s shoulder strap. The street lamps made the gold star-shaped badge glint in the darkness, and before she could make out the details, he closed the pouch again. “It's all above board, but we need to move quickly. She came to us with some intel, good intel, enough to put their boss away for a very long time. But, well… you know how this gig works. We can't protect her forever unless we get a conviction.”

It wasn't a threat; it was simply the reality of the situation. A part of Feerah was proud that the dragoness had done the right thing and reached out to the authorities, but she also knew things would get a hell of a lot worse for her if nothing eventuated from her information. “So you need me, why? It sounds like you have what you need,” Feerah asked before squinting at the drake. It didn't make sense. The drake would likely be part of a team, of which surely there was someone else who could help him with the dirty work. “You fucked up, didn't you?”

“Not me,” he retorted defensively, and so quickly it was clear she had hit a nerve. “The mark, he has people on payroll. The last attempt went south, he got tipped off and, well… We can't move unless we know that the intel is good. If it's all fake, then we had no part in it. I can tell you more if you're in. Otherwise I can't be briefing you on confidential shit. You want to help, or do you want to continue with your boring muggle life?”

“Tell me straight, is this a Manila situation?” Feerah asked as she took a half step towards the drake. Her extended talons clicked on the pavement, but the drake simply shook his head. “Then what's the plan? Damascus princess, or something more fiery?” she asked, making the drake look away and smile nostalgically.

“Close. Napoli setup. He is a churchgoer, not for any religious reasons, but he likes the theatrics. Then we need you to do an Amsterdam download—”

“Backup? You said your guys are compromised?” Feerah asked and tilted her head to look at him sceptically. “An Amsterdam is risky, and I ain't gonna be stuck with some creep while you finger your sheath waiting for your boys.”

“Oh no, I will be close by with some local muscle. I know a few that are straight and true. But they will be rostered for regular patrols, and I'll redirect them if you're successful,” Vaalin explained, and frowned when Feerah looked at him expectantly. “Oh, or if something goes wrong. Of course,” he added with a smirk that Feerah couldn't place as either guilty or joking.

His expression turned serious for a moment as he looked at her in a way that reminded her of the first time they had met. “You won't get a medal for this, Feerah, just so we are clear. This engagement is off the books.”

Scoffing, Feerah looked away as she inhaled deeply. “When is it ever on the books?” she mused under her breath. Working with Vaalin was never straightforward, and she reminded herself that there were likely many aspects he wasn't telling her because he felt she didn't need to know. Despite his charming smile, soft fur, and delicate wings, he was a snake at heart. A smart snake, but one still the same. By keeping this off any official records, she knew that her safety would come second to the objective. If the plan went wrong, he would likely deny involvement before coming to her aid. However, if there was a chance to take a mob boss off the street, it could be worth it. “If it's off the books, we keep it off the books. I have a life now. I'm not gonna be in a witness box, okay?” she clarified firmly.

When the drake didn't reply straight away, she squared off in front of him and focused her gaze. “I mean it. This isn't like the good ol’ days where we could hide in another mission, in another country. I do the gig, you get him, we are done. No strings, no statements.”

“No strings. No statements,” Vaalin agreed and pulled his wings closer to his sides. It was clearly not what he wanted, but a compromise he could live with.

“How quickly can you mobilise?”

---

Padding up the steps towards the towering chapel, Liinal ground his teeth in frustration. Adjusting his ivory wings restlessly as he approached the open double doors, he cast his gaze upwards briefly. Dark rain clouds hung ominously over the church steeple rooftop. If he were superstitious, he would have thought it an omen, a warning to a pending storm. Being more pragmatic, he simply looked at the clouds and resigned himself to the fact that he would likely be flying home in the rain. Glad that he was clad in bronze-coloured scales, drying off would be a simple affair once he got home and dealt with his mate's latest upset. She wasn't ignorant of his work but kept herself distant from the details. However, when he had come home smelling of another ‘ness, she had turned cold.

‘Just another issue on today's dance card,’ he thought to himself as he stepped into the church and forced himself to bury the topic. He had to focus, and as he swept his gaze across the dimly lit chapel, he took stock of the various patrons. It being almost seven in the evening on a Wednesday, the grand hall was almost completely deserted, with the exception of a scattering of people. An elderly man sat halfway up the hall, a regular who used to visit with his wife. Two dragons whom he had seen twice before were this time looking at one another with a different expression in their eyes, and a woman with a small dragonet who were possibly looking for something to occupy their time or simply to escape the pending rain. Liinal’s amber eyes fixated on the back of a man's head. He was sitting alone in a row backed by seating for dragons. Due to their size, the church's pews were segregated, with old timber seats for the humans towards the front and large thin cushions for the dragons towards the back of the room.

Walking slowly, Liinal pretended to inspect the cushions first before taking a seat directly behind the man. The mixture of cigarette smoke and fear clung to the man, and Liinal let his presence linger for minutes as he pretended to inspect the details of the church's interior. The stained glass windows always looked magnificent in the sunlight, but now cast an eerie blue glow across the room, which contrasted with the countless amber candles lit on a shrine-like altar near the front. Two Sisters of the Stone stood beside the candles, both dragonesses wearing traditional black robes that hid their quadruped bodies from view. The only exceptions were their tails and necks, which gave Liinal a glimpse of what they might look like unburdened by tradition. The eldest of the two he recognised as the Matron of the church. An old ‘ness who always looked as though she had eaten something spoiled but was too proud to admit it. The other he had never seen before and was being instructed by the Matron about something to do with the candles. In the dim light and across the church, it was almost impossible to make out any of the new dragoness’s details other than her blue eyes and dark black scales.

“I have an update on the ‘ness,” whispered the man as quietly as possible, the tension of his boss's presence clearly becoming too much for him to handle. Inhaling through his teeth in a hiss, Liinal reached forwards with a talon-tipped paw to collect a leaflet from the man's seatback. Lowering his head so that the man could keep talking quietly, he scanned the cover while growling a hum of acknowledgement. “She isn't anywhere to be found,” he started before swallowing nervously.

Liinal didn't reply and let the man's words hang in the silence. It wasn't good news, but it wasn't unexpected. After a successful month, Liinal had encouraged a lower-ranking drake to share his recent mate with him. Given his status, it had been a smooth transaction, and the dragoness hadn't vocalised the hesitation he had seen in her eyes. By his standards, she had been a good lay, quiet and would only speak when spoken to, but would make the most delightful noises as he took her. He had even promoted her mate to keep her closer to him and had enjoyed her over the course of a few weeks, but then she had vanished. Loyalty was a trait that Liinal held in high regard. After all, in his line of work it wasn't uncommon for members in his group to be snatched by the police for questioning. Having this dragoness get so close to him had exposed him in a way that made his chest tighten. Not that he would outwardly show his concern; they looked to him for direction and strength, after all.

“Parents? Friends? She had to have gone somewhere,” Liinal growled softly, a low rumble from the back of his throat making the man swallow heavily. From the tense expression the man flashed him, he already knew the answer before the man had spoken.

“We checked. Her father is buried. Mother lives alone up north, auntie used to live in an apartment off Twenty-Third. They are gone too,” the man started and looked towards the front of the church as Liinal’s eyes narrowed in concern. “But it's worse. I had a couple of boys do some digging. Neighbours don't know where they've gone, and their numbers are disconnected. Jimmy did his thing and took a look around inside. Food is still in the fridge, dishes in the sink, trash in the cans.”

“Fuck,” Liinal spat and lifted his head, bringing his neck back into a tight S-shape. Adjusting his wings so they were tucked close to his sides, he forced a deep lungful of air into his lungs to keep his composure. The dumb bitch, Ciiranah, had told them to leave, knowing he would go after them for information on her whereabouts or for leverage. The only glimmer of hope was that it seemed to have happened quickly, which almost certainly ruled out anything involving the police.

Liinal recalled the times he had been with Ciiranah to gauge how exposed he was. There had been a few meetings with some of his higher members she had been present for, discussions of applying pressure to certain officials to ease sentences on a pair of drakes that had been snatched, nothing too incriminating. His eyes widened as he remembered a video call he had taken on his tablet while he had her under him with his knot lodged deep in her. A small flicker of amusement came to mind as he remembered balancing the device between her horns and encouraging her to keep her panting quiet while he dealt with a wayward shipment of cocaine. She would have only heard vague information, nothing that would hold up in court.

Shaking his head in an attempt to dismiss his concerns, Liinal exhaled slowly and reassured himself that this was simply a bitch who had gotten in over her head, but could now be used as an example for the others. Lowering his head back down closer to the sweating man, he paused for a moment before speaking in a low, calm, and measured voice. “You have twenty-four hours to find her. Find something she cares about if you have to. An ex or schoolyard crush or something. Force her out and clean this up… permanently. Get this done quietly, and I’ll see what I can do to get your niece out of juvie.”

The man hastily nodded, and when he continued to sit on the timber pew, Liinal hissed threateningly. “Then what the fuck are you still doing here? Get everyone you need and get a hunt going. I don't want to see you until this is squared away.”

“Yes sir, of course,” the man rushed before standing up and walking quickly along the aisle between the pews. His polished shoes squeaked intermittently in the otherwise silent church, but Liinal paid him no notice as he pulled his neck back and stared off towards the front of the church as though he were one of the other members of the congregation.

Ciiranah was quickly becoming more hassle than she was worth. He had enjoyed feeling the power he had over her, and the knowledge that he had been ruining her vent for one of his boys had been intoxicating. He had at one point wondered if she was even lifting her tail for her mate, as he always let her leave his company either limping or fucked ragged. Between this new development and his actual mate now no longer talking to him because of Ciiranah, Liinal momentarily wished he had kept his cock in his slit.

A subtle vibration from the tablet-like phone on his foreleg refocused his attention. After checking once again that no one was sitting near him, he extracted the device from its holster and placed it on the floor between his forelegs. As usual, the screen showed no information at all, with the exception of a keypad to enter in the PIN. He still remembered the nerd he had paid to develop the software that he and his crew used, a pimply, awkward man who only spoke broken English and had reverted to his native tongue when he had begged for his life. The software he had made was robust and secure, perfect for their needs. Each member of their crew only had the information they needed to do their job, nothing that traced one back to another, and most importantly, it was set with a hierarchy of fallovers. Many of which he didn't completely understand, but the more technically gifted members of his gang had tested all of the features before they had disposed of the nerd. What Liinal did know, though, was that if he entered the wrong PIN number, even just once, it would wipe itself and then overload its storage with a small surge of power that would render the data unrecoverable. For any of his group, it would require a higher-ranking member of the crew to set up a new device for them, but for himself it would fall onto his second-in-command to assist him. Not that he had ever needed to, as he was meticulous with this sort of information and began to tap in the long string of letters and numbers.

With a small swoosh sound, the screen unlocked and he was presented with a home screen that looked like a blank tablet with only the preinstalled applications. Another ruse, just in case someone was looking over his shoulder. Tapping on the calculator application, he then entered a second code onto the buttons, and after pressing the equals button three times, the screen changed to the familiar collection of chatrooms where he coordinated his operations. Broken up almost like a menu of felonies and charges, each one was segregated with only those who needed to know as members of each channel. Being the head of the organisation, he needed to know everything and began to tap through the list to glance over what was happening. A new shipment had arrived, and the bait package of heroin had been intercepted as planned. The police wouldn't be able to trace the single pallet of bricks back to them and would likely celebrate the seizure while missing the two other shipping containers full to the brim with product. A few channels for the relocation of homeless and other unmissed dragons and humans were busy. The cost of living was driving more into desperate situations and, in turn, was making his business good.

Further down the list, he saw that the channels for the police he kept on payroll were quiet. No word of Ciiranah had reached them, which eased his nerves. If she or any of her family had called 911, ‘his’ detectives would have found out and let him know. Navigating to the notification he had received, he saw it was regarding an old drug maker receiving early parole due to good behaviour, and then a conversation starting amongst some of the lower shot callers discussing whether he should be brought back into the fold or silenced. The discussion was divided, with some suggesting that the product he used to specialise in wasn't worth the bags it was sold in. Others were more optimistic and suggested he could be restrained. No one dared suggest that he be let go, and Liinal looked on fondly as they began to formulate how to approach the recently released chemist.

Tapping out a message, he made it clear that he wanted the drake either assigned to refining product in their methamphetamine lab or, if he refused, to make sure he wouldn't help their competitors, and then locked the tablet. With a reassuring beep, the device announced it was secured, and he slipped it into his holster once more.

Inhaling deeply, he closed his eyes and exhaled, trying to force his worries to fade away. The day had been one stress after another, and he knew that when he got home, he would still be getting the silent treatment from his mate. Of course, she would do her duty if he told her, but it was never the same. It would feel cold and was only marginally better than his own paw. Ciiranah had been good like that; while she might have been internally reluctant, she at least gasped and whined as he took her. The memory of how she would scrunch her eyes closed as he made her climax on his cock made his slit tighten and solidified how he wanted to finish the day. Opening his eyes, he refocused on the church and began to rise to all fours. He wouldn't have to go much more than two blocks before he found one of his ‘nesses, and in the drake's mind it didn't count as paying for sex if it was one of his own.

However, as he turned on his cushion, movement at the far end of the church caught his eye. The two Sisters of the church were still at the front, with the Matron scolding the newer dragoness over something she wasn't picking up. The older dragoness's voice was hushed, and he couldn't make out anything but the tone, but she was clearly not impressed by something the ‘ness had done. Taking a step, he continued to watch as the Matron left the younger ‘ness at the shrine and stormed off. Unbeknownst to her, the dark-scaled dragoness mouthed something colourful behind her back, even going so far as extending her neck as the Matron left and pulling a face before suddenly glancing back towards the congregation to see if anyone had seen her.

Her bright blue eyes went wide in shock as she saw Liinal looking at her. However, instead of shrinking back, the dragoness sat on her haunches and used both forepaws to gesture from the shrine and then back towards the departing sister as if to say, ‘Can you believe this?’ Liinal hadn't heard what had been the focus of their discussion, but he smiled sympathetically towards the dark-scaled ‘ness, who rolled her eyes dramatically and then waved him over with a forepaw. Standing in the middle of the silent church, he felt rude simply to depart when the dragoness had beckoned him, and instead he began to pad towards her. It wouldn't delay him from his plans long, and perhaps some interesting news might take his mind off the stresses of the day.

“What was that all about?” Liinal asked once he came close enough to speak in a low voice. Up close, he saw that she was roughly middle-aged; however, her jawline had a carved appearance that suggested she was quite lithe or athletic under her obscuring robes. Additionally, a scar ran across the dragoness's eye ridge and down her cheek, missing her eye by some miracle. For a Sister of the church, she looked as though she had lived a colourful life, or perhaps had been driven to faith after some serious event.

“Oh my… love. I have no idea what her problem is. I just transferred here, and it feels like she has been reading from the wrong scriptures. Or maybe I have…” the dragoness replied and shook her head in disbelief while looking towards the door the Matron had left through. “Like, it's lighting candles. Not exactly passing through the holy gates. I don't think anyone really cares if I use one match to light all of the candles or a separate match for every. single. one... But nooo,” she continued, rocking her head from side to side. “Probably not very sisterly of me, though, bitching behind her back. Can you forgive me?” she asked, tilting her snout down in an almost bashful expression.

“Nothing to forgive. Sometimes it's better to let it out. Some of the Sisters here are a bit… firm in their beliefs,” Liinal replied with a disarming smile that made the dragoness bob her head in agreement. Standing in front of her now, he looked past the black headdress she wore between her horns and glanced down her slender neck. Countless red markings dotted her otherwise black scales. It made her look almost venomous and contrasted against the soft, safe symbolism of the obscuring black robes that covered her wings and body.

“You're so right. I've always thought that we take things a little too seriously sometimes. Probably why they sent me to this place. Learn the ‘correct’ way to do things,” she answered before turning her head and looking him up and down. “Sister Fee. I'm sorry, I'm still learning everyone’s names in the congregation.”

“Liinal,” the drake replied warmly and dipped his head. “I don't usually come to the services, though. My schedule is often too busy to accommodate a whole morning of worship,” he clarified to excuse his absences.

“They go on too long anyway, let's be honest,” Sister Fee replied with a cheeky smile and swept her tail around to brush it against his hind leg. The contact was fleeting and could have almost passed as accidental, except her eyes locked with his as if to gauge his reaction. “I’ve always thought it would be good to have a quicker session. You know, cut out all the preamble and just get to the point, and then go separate ways, right? People have got stuff to do,” she asked, cocking her head to one side.

Liinal’s mind drifted to a different subject that brought a smirk to his snout. No foreplay and straight to fucking was exactly what he was planning to do with one of his dragonesses, but when he refocused on Sister Fee, he realised she wasn't being rhetorical and was looking at him as if expecting a reply. “That does sound better, but I don't think the other Sisters would agree. They like to do things properly.”

“Fuck properly,” the dragoness replied with an open-mouthed smile, as if saying the simple curse word was new to her. “If everyone wants it, then what's the harm?” she added, and Liinal pulled his head back in surprise when the dragoness looked him up and down again. Her gaze wasn't subtle, and he was caught off guard by the dragoness's forwardness, but he didn't say anything to interrupt her. His nostrils flared as he gently took in the dragoness’ scent and detected something ever so faint in the air that made his heart beat quicken. It was almost completely imperceivable, possibly due to the combination of her robes, or perhaps her season was just about to begin. Smelling the scent caused him to try and gauge her age again, she probably only had a few seasons left in her, and now he wondered if her neglected body was trying to tempt him for one final attempt at making an egg.

He kept himself in good shape, of course, as his work occasionally required a display of strength. He had caught glances from across restaurants and bars many times, but never had he caught the attention of one of the church's clergy. The forbidden nature was too much for Liinal, and he quickly relaxed his posture and renewed his warm smile. “I don't see any harm at all. Something quick is what is needed, and it works well for people with busy lives. In fact, I think it's a great way to get the message across. It wouldn't have to wait until Sunday either—”

“I know! We could do it anytime… or anywhere,” she added without making any attempt to hide her double meaning. “Especially if it helps those who are so incredibly… busy…” Her words drifted off as she leaned her neck to one side to let her gaze trace down his body. “We wouldn't need to use the main hall if it's just us. There is a storeroom over there. Perfect for more… intimate sermons,” she added, nodding towards a door at the side of the chapel. While following her gaze, the dragoness turned to bring her hindquarters closer to his and brushed her tail more purposefully against his own. “How busy are you now?”

“Oh, Sister Fee, I have time. But be warned, I come here often, and I might want follow-up sessions,” he mused, and the look of excitement in her eyes made his heart skip a beat. She was eager, possibly too eager. No doubt her robes would be perfect for concealing a microphone, and as he glanced back across the chapel to see if anyone was paying attention, he thought through what the consequences were. From everything she said, she was clearly consenting to this. Even if she hadn't said the words out loud, any jury would deny he had pressured her if they listened to a recording.

“Well, we exist to serve the congregation. But I might need your help. I've never done this sort of thing before, so I might need you to take the lead.” The black dragoness said with a hint of embarrassment in her voice. Her words made his eyes widen and pulled his attention back towards her. She held his gaze for a heartbeat before looking down at his feet. He understood exactly what she meant, and a giddy smile formed on his snout.

A virgin.

Now that was something he hadn't gotten to enjoy in a very long time, let alone one that didn't look as though she would cry the whole time. The idea of rutting a Sister of the church senseless and being her first caused his cock to almost peek from his slit. The feeling was compounded by the fact that there would be consequences for the ignorant ‘ness. Adjusting his hind legs to keep his dignity, Liinal forced his expression to remain stoic and calm. He wasn't a college drake being nervous, and he kept his giddy excitement in check. Clearing his throat, he glanced across the chapel to make sure that none of the other Sisters were watching and nodded his head. “Well, you should have someone who knows what they are doing. I would be glad to help you out with that little problem,” he mused and then nodded towards the storeroom. The door looked heavy, made of old oak with thick iron hinges. Given how quiet the rest of the church was, sound leaking out into the chamber could be an issue, but he told himself that a good neck bite could hush any wails of pleasure from the ‘ness if she got too vocal. His ear twitched, and he looked up as if answering his thoughts. A pattering sound began as rain fell against the stained glass. A smile formed on his lips as it quickly intensified and filled the hall with a hiss of white noise. Perfect for masking at least some of the noise.

“I thought you looked like a drake who knows what they are doing. Thank you. And of course, I would want these sermons to be confidential, at least for now,” Sister Fee explained, and when he nodded in understanding, she bobbed her head and began to walk towards the storeroom with an excited smile on her snout and a bounce in her step. Following behind, Liinal noticed her tail hanging higher than usual as she walked, and when she opened the door and disappeared inside, he gave the church one last sweeping look. The few patrons in the church hadn't paid them any attention, and some were now looking up at the ceiling and glancing towards the exit as if debating if it was worth leaving to get home or sheltering in place.

Following the robed dragoness inside the dim storeroom, Liinal’s heartbeat quickened, and when he turned around to close the door, he smiled as he slid the lock across to stop them from being interrupted. It snapped into place with a reassuring click, and he gave the door a tentative nudge to ensure that it was secured. The storeroom was much larger than he had expected, likely used to store most of the pews in the event of a function or gathering. However, now it harboured a collection of white folding tables, a half-collapsed marquee that looked broken, and a few dozen cardboard boxes labelled with a thick black pen. Without any windows for the late afternoon light to come in, it was illuminated by a single amber fluorescent light that cast deep shadows in the corners and gave the whole room a secluded feel. After glancing at the corners of the ceiling, he confirmed there was no CCTV and then focused on the dragoness. Sitting back on her haunches, she used her forepaws to unclasp a series of tightly knotted black cords that secured her robes around her body and, after fighting with the last one, shrugged her wings to let the fabric garment fall to the ground. Standing back up on all fours, she rolled her wings in their newfound freedom and then looked at him nervously.

Clearly she hadn't been ‘exposed’ in the presence of another in quite some time, let alone a drake who didn't make any attempt to stop his cock from beginning to emerge from his slit. A proud smirk formed on Liinal's snout as he turned to one side and her eyes fell to his shaft. The look of concern, innocence, and awkwardness in the dragoness' eyes reaffirmed her words of being inexperienced. She was trusting her body more than she should, but he was never going to stop her. “You look better without that silly gown on, but do me a favour, keep the hat thing on,” he instructed as he took a step towards her. The robes would have only gotten in the way, but without the headdress she would have looked like any other dragoness, and he relished the idea of corrupting her.

“I-ummm… of course. Wait!” she said as he came closer and lowered his head to take in her scent. It pained him to pause, and he didn't pull his head away until she turned suddenly and trotted towards one of the boxes. “Hold on, if we are going to do this, might as well break all the rules,” the dragoness muttered and began to sort through the boxes. Liinal watched in amusement as her tail lifted further, to the point that he could see her vent. In the dim light of the storeroom, the line between her dark scales was hard to see, but he could just make out the slightly puffy appearance of the vertical slit nestled between her thighs. With her distracted and her head almost completely in the boxes, the temptation to come up behind her was great. However, he refrained and reminded himself that he would be returning to the church again for other business dealings. No matter how eager he was now, it would be better for him to behave and enjoy this ‘ness again and again.

A clink of glass against glass caught his attention, and Sister Fee let out a small whine of success before extracting two large wine bottles. “Yes! I heard that she had gotten some as a gift from the archbishop. Oh, lords, these are over a hundred years old! I hope they are still good,” she explained and looked back over her folded wing. The dragoness caught him looking, but made no attempt to lower her tail before she turned around and hobbled over to him on three legs while clutching the necks of both bottles between her digits. “Here. I heard this makes it better.”

“A little liquid makes things go smoother,” he mused and sat back on his haunches after taking the bottle from her and placing it beside him. Her gaze once again lingered on his now fully erect cock as she sat in front of him and uncorked her bottle. “Like what you see?” he asked without hiding the arrogance in his voice. Using one forepaw, he curled his digits around the tip of his shaft and slowly stroked downwards. In doing so, he gave the dragoness a clear demonstration of how she would be parted by his length. It started as a narrow point, perfect for gaining access to even the most stubborn hen, and then rapidly filled out to a girth that would have her gasp. Every two inches or so of his length was notched with a ridge that was known to make a dragoness scrunch her eyes closed, and he showed her how firm they were by letting them pop through his grip while stroking back towards his vent. Finally, his paw came to rest at the bulge near his base, still unformed but a clear indicator of the tie she would endure.Standing proud against his bronze scales, the pink spire of flesh looked imposing and drew in the innocent dragoness’ gaze.

“It's… it's so big,” she murmured before lifting the bottle to her maw and taking a series of quick gulps. Her words and the need to ease her nerves made his cock throb, and his whole length bounced. “Oh gods, this is good,” she mused before tearing her gaze from his shaft to her bottle. “That bitch doesn't know what she's got.”

“No, no she doesn't. It's wrong to have things and not use them for what they're intended for,” he replied smoothly while stroking his paw up his shaft once more. “So how do you want this sermon to go? Do you want to do it naturally? Or you on your back? Or what?” he asked, catching the flicker of nervousness in her eyes. She had seemed so forward outside, but now she was acting like any other virgin, albeit mature enough to know what was about to happen.

“Can… can I?” she asked and nodded towards his groin. It was natural, of course; she likely hadn't ever seen a real penis, let alone been so close to one. Her innocence made his cock harden further, with a nod he removed his paw from his cock to give her access.

He deliberately looked aloof as she came closer and lowered herself down to her belly to inspect his shaft. The last thing that he wanted to do was look over eager. Her body may have been helping his cause, but whether or not she was aware of it was still to be determined. Instead he pretended to pay her little attention and instead collected the bottle of wine she had given him. Gripping the cork with his mouth, he opened it with a pop and took in the scent. The floral fragrance of old wine wafted to his nostrils; indeed, it did smell good, and after spitting out the cork, he took a small swig. He was accustomed to fine wine, and this was no exception, but with the added enjoyment of it being free and forbidden. Taking a second deep gulp of wine, he glanced down and saw the dragoness reaching out hesitantly to touch his spire, as though unsure how to do it properly. Holding the bottle in one paw, he reached down with his other and caught her paw before pulling it to his shaft. “It's okay, it won't bite. Touch it, learn it. It's going to be in you soon enough.”

The feeling of her paw pads around his shaft was delightful, despite her touch being so inexperienced that she just held on without moving. Once the initial shock of touching his penis faded from the dragoness’s eyes and she leaned closer, he let go of her wrist and leaned back. “It's harder than I expected, it's like… I don't know,” Sister Fee mused and brought her snout closer to give his shaft a curious sniff. “And that's a knot, right? I have only heard stories. Does it… does it hurt?” she asked tentatively.

He didn't answer right away and took another sip from the wine before shaking his head. “No, never had any complaints,” he lied before reaching back to her wrist and guiding her paw up and then down his shaft. “It's perfectly natural. It might feel a little strange at first, but it's how nature intended,” he added and rolled her paw around his tip to collect some pre and slid it back down his length. “How about you give it a lick, see how it tastes?” he offered with a hint of firmness in his voice that implied it wasn't a question.

“Ummm, I don't know…” she started and stroked her paw around the base of his shaft. Spreading her toes, she tried to grip around the thickest part of the lobes to gauge its girth but wasn't able to make her digits touch. “That's kinda strange, isn't it? Like that's not really where it's meant to go.”

Rolling his eyes as the ‘ness's nerves got the better of her, he lifted the wine bottle to his lips and began quickly gulping the contents. Finishing it, he placed the bottle back on the ground, took her paw from his shaft, and then rose to all fours. His head swam as he moved too quickly, but after flicking his head, his focus returned and he looked down at the black dragoness. “Well then, how about we get on with it? You said you wanted to do it quickly, right?” he stated, and was glad when the dragoness nodded while pulling herself up into a sitting position. “Good, then let's do this. Drop your chest and lift that pretty tail of yours. I'll take care of the rest.” His directness seemed to almost cut completely through the dragoness's nerves, and she rose to all fours. With two steps she half turned around before spotting her bottle of wine and paused to hold up a digit.

While she collected the bottle, he stepped forwards and, without waiting for her to finish drinking, lowered his head and nuzzled his snout under her tail. The scent of her estrus was thicker here, not like a heavy fog of a young ‘ness in her prime, but still there. It was layered with her arousal to make a heady mix that caused his hips to involuntarily roll in a sharp hump. She didn’t seem to notice his hard cock bouncing behind her, and instead focused ahead like a good hen. Her whole body jolted as he stroked his wet tongue across her slit, starting at the bottom and swiping slowly up its crease. He growled a low rumble in his throat as he tasted her budding arousal. She wasn't soaked, her nerves clearly taking an effect, but he didn't care. Her body would catch up quickly enough; if not, his pre would make her slippery enough to rut. Keeping his snout buried under her tail, he looked across her flank and towards her head as she continued to drink her wine. She didn't rush, likely enjoying his touch on her neglected pussy. Lapping again, he considered delving his tongue inside her but held back. He wanted his cock to be the first thing felt inside her and instead began to circle her vent with his tongue.

“That… that feels good,” she moaned softly in a tone filled with unfamiliarity. Between her scent, taste, and warmth, combined with how he held his head low while turning it to one side, he felt a wave of dizziness come over him. Reaching forwards, he gripped her rump with a forepaw and felt her flinch at his touch. Definitely a virgin; that sort of reaction was impossible to fake.

Pulling his head out from under her tail, he didn't hesitate as he surged up onto her back. One forepaw stayed on her rump and pulled her back under him, while the other went to the middle of her shoulders and pressed down until her chest was touching the ground. “That's it, you're doing great,” he growled into her neck as he nuzzled her, the excitement building to a fever pitch as he caught the look of concern and surprise in her eyes. Rolling his hips, he nudged her tail out of the way and moved in closer until he felt her wet puffy vent against his cock. Adjusting his hind legs to get the correct angle, he pressed again and again at her rump and vent with his cock. However, with every press his length began to falter. Against his will, the spire of flesh was softening, and even as he growled and humped against her to force it in, it bent and deflected off her slit in protest.

“Is… am I doing something wrong?” Sister Fee asked and turned her neck to try and look under herself. Moving a hind paw up to her stifle joint, Liinal used his hip under her tail to hike her rump up further and tried again to find an angle to drive his softening shaft into her. “Is this how it's normally—”

“No, you're just not ready yet. Hold on,” Liinal hissed before giving up. He knew the taste of her vent would get him hard again and began to dismount. Pulling his head back too quickly, he stumbled off her and gripped her rump tightly to stabilise himself. The room began to swim, but he pushed through the dizziness of the wine to dive his head down and under her tail once more. This time, however, his movement felt sluggish and he missed his mark. His snout nudged into her thigh, causing her to take a startled step forwards and jump to all fours. With two steps, the dragoness was out of reach, and when he went to match her movements, his paws refused to cooperate. Each one felt as though it was filled with lead, and when he forced a forepaw to step forwards, he stumbled to one side. Extending a wing for balance, the shift of weight felt delayed, and before he knew it, the floor rose up to hit his jaw.

---

The resounding thud of the drake caused Feerah to roll her eyes and look back. Sprawled out on one side, the bronze drake looked at her with unfocused, glassy eyes while his mouth moved in an attempt to say something. “Fucking finally…” Feerah cursed and dropped her tail down to the ground as she turned around. “Next time, I'll do the dosage, Vaalin. Now let's hope this was worth it,” she muttered to herself as she padded her way over towards her discarded robes. She was midway through rummaging through the large black fabric garment when she heard a groan of protest from the bronze drake that made her chuckle.

“Oh, don't worry, it's perfectly natural. Drake of your age…” she mused and glanced towards him to see the drake attempting to reach out with a paw towards her. His movements were feeble, uncoordinated, and delayed, making her smirk at how pathetic he looked. “Good to know I’ve still got it though. Crazy how wild you drakes get for a virgin ‘ness with a touch of estrus spray…. Now where is this little fucker… ah!” she announced and produced a small black device with a screen, a lanyard cable, and a post-it note. Clutching it in one paw, she stepped over towards the drake and swatted away his paw. Sitting down on her haunches, she paid his groaning little attention as she placed the device down and then swatted away the second attempt he made to reach her and instead grabbed his other wrist. Yanking it out from under him, she focused on the tablet strapped to his wrist and connected the device to its charging port. A small chime played from the black box, and when she turned it over, she saw a line of code appear on its LCD screen.

“Girl, I hope you didn't fuck with me,” she prayed under her breath as she read the post-it note and began tapping on the screen of the tablet. The code was long, but as she tapped in the final digit, the screen unlocked with a swoosh. Following the instructions, she tapped on the calculator app and began entering the second code. As soon as she pressed the equals sign three times, the device she connected began to beep a frantic and joyful series of tones. The screen of the tablet changed to a chat program, and when Feerah looked at the inserted device, she saw that it was now flashing multiple progress bars, each one rushing across the screen and turning green as it downloaded the information.

“…iiitsh…” groaned the drake as he lazily tried to pull his forepaw away from her, but her grip remained firm as the transfer continued. His head lifted sluggishly, causing long strings of drool to connect his snout to the floor before his head fell back down with another dull thud.

“Oh honey, ‘bitch’ is basically a compliment for a ‘ness like me,” Feerah mused and extended a forepaw to stroke his cheek. “You just rest that pretty rump of yours; I'll handle the rest.” She lowered her head closer to him. Despite the powerful sedatives coursing through his bloodstream, she could still see the look of panic in his eyes. Pouting her lips, she idly stroked his cheek as if he were a hatchling who had hurt himself. “Poor little Liinal. Don't worry, Sister Fee will make it all better.”

A small chime rang from the device and, when she looked down, she read that everything had been successfully copied across and decrypted. With a few taps she confirmed it was safe to disconnect, then unplugged it from his tablet and tucked his paw closer to his chest.

“Nnnguugh naa op?” Liinal asked, his words slurred so badly that Feerah frowned before shaking her head.

“Am I a cop? No, sweetie. I'm just doing the Lords’ work,” she replied, rising to all fours and looping the device’s lanyard over her wing claw. Stepping to the drake's side so that she was practically standing over him, she used both forepaws to heave him completely onto his side and folded his wing. Looking him up and down, she shook her head in disapproval. His cock still hung out, but now a shadow of its former self, lying limply across his thigh. Lowering her head toward his, she smirked when his whole body shivered and his eyes tried to focus on her. “But don't you worry, the cops will be here very soon. Then the real fun begins,” she whispered playfully into his ear, then pulled her head back with a grin and turned toward the door.

The rain was falling in earnest now, not hard enough to make flying difficult, but enough to fill the chapel with a heavy drone of white noise. Padding down between the pews toward the exit at the back of the church, Feerah caught the Matron in the far corner glance toward her and do a double take. The elder dragoness's mouth parted in surprise and her eyes went wide before she began to rush to intercept Feerah. Feerah was still wearing the headdress but, now without the robes, she guessed the Matron thought she looked scandalous.

“Sister Fee!” the Matron exclaimed in a tense hiss as she stepped into the aisle to block Feerah's path.

Any other dragoness would have stopped in their tracks at the tone and posture of the livid Matron, but Feerah simply continued to walk and stepped past without slowing. “Matron,” she murmured as she passed, as if offering a casual greeting. Keeping her gaze locked on the exit, Feerah continued to walk even as the Matron tutted and stammered, trying to work out a reply. With a small arc and flick of her neck, Feerah discarded her headdress into the pews closest to the exit and paused midstep. Looking back at the elderly dragoness, Feerah grinned a playful smile and dipped her head. “Thanks for the drink.” Without waiting for a reply, she stepped out of the church and into the rain.

Strutting down the stairs that led up to the church, Feerah knew that Vaalin would be watching her, waiting for the signal, and the idea of making him wait with bated breath made her chuckle. The sun had set, or was obscured by the storm clouds enough to cast the city streets in darkness. The only light came from the countless amber streetlights, neon signs outside shopfronts, and the headlights of passing cars. The contrasting colours reflected off the wet pavement and roads, casting her inky black scales in different hues of light. Pausing once she reached the pavement, she sat back on her haunches and looked up and down the street. Credit where it was due, she couldn't see any police waiting to make a move; Vaalin had done well. He had briefed her that they couldn't afford to make an arrest unless they had the information securely transferred, and now he was waiting for her to confirm it.

Pulling her neck back into a regal ‘S’ shape, Feerah extended both of her wings as if to take off, but instead of leaping into the sky, held them open to announce her success. If she had failed or was in danger, she was to take to the sky, but if she was successful, she was to hold the pose. Rain continued to fall, drumming off her spread wings and running down her membranes in long rivulets before streaming to the ground. Five seconds ticked by before commotion erupted from the shops across the street. Four dragons, with humans sprinting beside them, bounded out from cafes and bars along the road. Each of them glanced towards Feerah briefly before charging across the road towards the church. Despite wearing business attire, each of the humans carried a radio on their hip, while the dragons each wore nylon harnesses bristling with pouches.

“In the storeroom,” Feerah mused as they darted past her, and she scanned the buildings they had come from. Squinting through the dark, Feerah spotted the familiar yellow-dyed fur of Vaalin in one of the cafes. He had sat himself at the table closest to the street, and as she scanned the other establishments, she noticed that it was the only one with windows that could be opened. While he sat with his back towards the street, a simple turn of his head gave him an unobstructed view of the goingons outside. Thanks to the eves that half sheltered the footpath, the window could be opened all the way without letting any rain in, and was also large enough for the drake to bound out of, should he needed to escape or engage. Checking both ways up the road, Feerah stepped out and made her way towards her ex-squadmate.

“Everything go okay?” he asked, hardly looking at her as she approached the window beside his table. Extending her folded wing into the cafe, Feerah gently dropped the device onto his table before resetting her wings. When she nodded in acknowledgement, he picked up the device in a paw and without looking, passed it to a colleague sitting at an adjacent table. Feerah hadn’t clocked the other patron as an undercover cop, and tried not to let her surprise show. “Well done. Are you okay?” he added, turning his head to look at her directly.

“Me? Please… prick couldn't even get it up at the end. But next time we up the dosage, had to stall him for a bit,” Feerah replied and adjusted her wings before lifting them slightly to show how they glistened. “Still got me wet though,” she added with a chuckle.

“Next time, huh…” Vaalin mused, earning a glare from Feerah. “I'll keep that in mind,” he added, but thankfully didn't press her. The radio on his harness crackled to life as one of the officers confirmed Liinal's condition. Holding a paw up to Feerah, the drake concentrated on the chatter before holding the transmit button on his shoulder strap and curling his neck so he could speak into the mic. “Yeah, get medical. But Jim, you and Teeslah stay with him. I want you posted at his bed at all times. Copy?” he asked and waited for the reply.

“So that's it, is it?” Feerah asked when the drake lifted his head and looked at her. “Job done,” she added, and sat down on her haunches, curling her tail tightly around herself so it wouldn't be in the way of other pedestrians.

“Job done,” Vaalin replied, looking at her with a smirk.

---

==Less wholesome ending==

A small silence hung between them before Vaalin picked up his small ceramic mug with a paw and finished his coffee. “Got much on for the night?”

Feerah knew exactly what he was implying and tilted her head in contemplation. It had been so long since she had felt so alive, and she would be lying if she hadn't found their ruse exhilarating. “That depends. Is it my turn to take point?” she asked and looked him in the eyes. “I think you have done enough bossing around for one night.”

The drake looked towards the ceiling as he tilted his head from side to side. “What's your plan? If it's like how we celebrated Madrid, then I'm out,” he replied, which made Feerah scoff. The fluffy drake's smile went wide as he leaned his head out of the window so he could keep his voice low. “Don't laugh, I couldn't sit right after that, and I'm gonna have a ton of paperwork to do. I really can't be sitting on an icepack—”

“No, no. I wasn't thinking anything like that. Besides, I think I've gotten that out of my system,” Feerah replied before leaning in and whispering into his ear something that made the drake's eyes go wide. Pulling back, she relaxed her wings and cocked her head to one side while the drake remained frozen in place. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he nodded before pulling his head back and grinning like an idiot. “You are getting soft, Feerah. But I'm game. My place?”

“Of course. I know you will linger and expect breakfast if it was my place,” Feerah retorted and looked down the street. She had no idea where the drake was staying, but it was far more appealing than explaining the drake to her brother and his mate. Flashing red lights in the corner of her eye tore her attention away, and she watched as a pair of paramedical dragons came swooping down to the front of the church, each carrying large, bulky bags on their hips. Feerah recognised a litter when she saw it and guessed that Liinal was too sedated to be walked out. Looking back at the furred drake, she gave him a curt nod. “Lead on.”

---

Laying on her back across the drake's large, rectangular bed, Feerah had stacked what few cushions he owned against the headboard so that she could lean forward and watch him work. Keeping one wing folded tight against her side while letting the other sprawl over the edge, she made just enough room for Vaalin to lie beside her, albeit with his hindquarters closest to her shoulders while his forepaws loosely held her spread thigh and his snout roamed her groin. The sensation of the drake's warm, wet, and nimble tongue working her slit caused Feerah's heart to flutter and her hips to gyrate intermittently as he found a sensitive spot. “Mmmngh, good boy…” she moaned while adjusting her grip on the leather makeshift leash she held in one paw. Ideally, she would have preferred something more dedicated than the hip strap of her harness, but the sense of power she had over the drake was intoxicating enough not to care.

Although it had been years since the furred drake had pleasured her, he was still able to work her like a finely tuned instrument, building her pleasure to the point it almost overwhelmed her before slowly bringing her back down and then repeating the process. It wasn't rushed; they had all night, and Feerah relished the fact that she could be as loud as she pleased without needing to explain herself to those she lived with. Beside her, the drake lay on his side, with his hips rolled further onto his back to display his cock and balls to her. He didn't thrust them towards her, but offered them for her to enjoy as he pleasured her, and Feerah absentmindedly rolled the drake's stones in her free paw. Finding the weight and firmness of his testes rolling inside his fuzzy, furred scrotum relaxing, Feerah alternated between lifting them and gently massaging them to encourage him. She could see exactly how aroused he was by the way his knot bulged inside his sheath while his plum-coloured cock protruded out and throbbed idly. Tapered in shape and large enough to promise a deep connection regardless of what position she let him take her, it had been leaking pre over the last half hour to the point that the fur of his chest and belly was now dotted with small wet patches.

A groan escaped Feerah's mouth, and her back arched slightly as Vaalin angled his snout and stroked his tongue across the length of her slit before circling her tailhole. For all his bravado and cocky confidence, the drake had become her perfectly trained pet once the leash had gone on. He understood who was in charge and didn't rebuke her authority even when she deliberately neglected his shaft and toyed with his balls to the point that he whined into her vent. He didn't stop, and instead swirled his tongue back around the outside of her pussy, dragging its tip with a feather’s touch through the mess of saliva and slick that painted her scales before rapidly flicking it across her clit. “Nnngh, fuck…” Feerah gasped, her words fading as he plunged his tongue back into her and began worming it through her folds. Shifting her paw from his balls to his sheath-covered knot, she let his shaft slide between her digits and cupped her paw as best she could around the hard lobes. Rolling her paw around, she mapped the curves of his knot before giving it a testing squeeze. The pressure of her grip behind the ball of flesh caused the drake's hips to surge in a phantom hump, and after a pause, his licking intensified.

“Play your cards right and I might let you do more than have a taste…” Feerah cooed before exhaling a small whimper of pleasure as he feverishly swirled his tongue through her depths. Shifting her grip from his knot to his shaft, she kept her touch gentle as she worked to the tip and then, after circling her paw around to collect slippery pre, stroked downwards. Keeping her grip tight to imitate what it would be like for him to penetrate her, she made his hips buck and gyrate with wanton need.

Her focus shifted back to his head as he retracted his tongue and lifted his snout from between her thighs. He panted for breath and looked at her with a hungry expression, the fur that framed his lips clinging to his muzzle with a dark, wet sheen. “Oh please, I can tell you need this just as much as me—”

A firm tug of the leather leash silenced the drake. “I'll tell you when I'm ready,” Feerah retorted and began to coil the leash around her forepaws to shorten it. Leaning forward, she continued until it was so short that her paw was within reach of his snout, then tugged him back down to her vent. Without hesitation, the drake went back to work, this time holding her thighs tighter and focusing his attention almost exclusively on her clit. “Goo– good boy!” Feerah moaned, her voice hitching as he flicked his tip across her pearl before flattening his tongue and dragging it across the sensitive area.

It felt good to have her ex-squadmate tend to her, his touch far more dedicated and controlled compared to Liinal. With every swipe of Vaalin’s tongue, the memories of the afternoon faded, and she began to lose herself in the pleasure. Relaxing her grip on the leash, she uncoiled it from her grasp before placing her paw between his horns. Spreading her digits wide, she felt the drake's lush fur slide between them before scrunching her paw closed to hold him in place. He didn't seem to mind as she adjusted his angle so he hit just the right spots. Her tail lashed with restless energy as he worked, but neither paid it any attention. She could feel her pleasure building and building, fuelled not only by his tongue but also by the dominance of controlling him.

“Yeah… that's it… m–more of that,” she moaned while he began plunging his tongue deep inside her with a quick dart, then slowly pulling back while stroking her upper walls before swirling her clit. Each time he repeated the motion, she felt herself rising closer and closer to her climax. Leaning her head back, she ignored the clatter of her horns against the plaster and focused on the feeling of the drake's tongue. “Keep going… yes… mmmmghhhh,” her words drifted into a pleasure-laden growl as her heart skipped a beat.

Adjusting her grip on his cock, she began to slowly pump his hard shaft with her slick paw. By rewarding him, he redoubled his efforts and worked her like a beast possessed. A needy whine escaped Feerah's maw as he took her right to the edge and kept her there. He didn't let her fall back down, nor tip her over, and she felt as though she were a piece of glass bent to its limit, about to crack. “Vvv– Vaa– noh gods—” she whimpered while pressing down with her paw and grinding his fuzzy snout against her groin.

He was relentless and calculating despite her desperation. Every stroke of his tongue played off the last, seamlessly shifting from one manoeuvre to the next as though he were conducting an orchestra of one. All thoughts vanished from Feerah's mind in the tidal wave of arousal as he kept her at a knife edge. Until she reluctantly tugged his head up just enough to extract his tongue from her. Panting as though she had just flown ten thousand feet, Feerah opened her eyes and looked down at the drake, catching the cocky look on his snout. “Come– come on then,” she gasped before coiling the leather leash around her paw and pulling him closer.

Rolling onto his front, she pulled his head up towards her chest. The drake quickly got to all fours and spun around. Despite her tugging his lead to bring him higher, Vaalin stretched his neck out stubbornly and stood with his hind legs halfway down her tail. With his hind paws on the edge of the bed, he hooked his forepaws around her thighs and, with a sharp tug that made Feerah gasp, pulled her down under him. Her hind legs naturally found his waist as he settled her into position and then, one by one, stepped forwards to bracket the base of her neck with his forelegs. Standing over her, he looked down with nothing but lust in his eyes while his tapered cock stood proudly between them and bounced slightly with anticipation. “Be careful what you wish for, Feerah. You remember what happened last time you let me take you like this, don't you?” he growled in a voice just loud enough for her to hear.

The memory and the threat sent a shiver down Feerah’s spine, and with a swing of her tail she caught his and trapped it in a tight coil. “Oh I'm counting on it,” Feerah mused and gave his tail a firm squeeze. Letting both wings sprawl out on either side, she relaxed her posture and gave him a small nod to proceed. “I just pray you haven't forgotten how I like it—” her words were cut short as the drake lowered his hips to her groin and dragged himself backwards. She could feel the warmth of his rigid cock drag across her toned belly in the process, and brought her forepaws to his shoulders to brace herself.

The glide of his slick penis against her smooth scales made her pulse surge and her talon-tipped digits sink into the thick fur. Vaalin adjusted his hips to match the contours of her body and slid the underside of his cock through the crease of her vent before adjusting as his tip came into position. “Oh no, Feerah—” his voice became a groan as he rocked his hips forwards in a sharp jerk and his firm tip slipped between her folds. He didn't plunge in right away, instead holding for a beat so she could feel the moment. “I know exactly how to make you scream,” he added and began to press forward.

Having been teased and riled up by him for over half an hour, her passage was as slick as silk and parted easily for his intruding length. He could have been firmer, driven in with a sharp thrust and hilted with ease, but he didn't. Instead, he sank forward only two inches, then paused, then sank further. It was torturously slow, and the frictionless glide against her sensitive walls made Feerah press her neck into the bed and arch her shoulders off the mattress. Holding onto his shoulders firmly to anchor herself, Feerah gasped as he pushed deep into her core. She had taken bigger, but the perfect balance between holding back and insistently pressing forwards drove her to new heights.

A small, cocky chuckle caught her attention, and when she opened her eyes she saw him looking down at her with a lopsided smirk. “I forgot how fucking good you feel,” he rumbled and adjusted his stance to sink up to his knot in her. At some point his sheath must have pulled back over his knot, as she felt the smooth, fleshy bulb against her vent rather than his fuzzy fur. “We should really do this more often.”

“Looking for something more than a hookup, are you?” Feerah asked and watched as his smirk faded to something more genuine. “You are getting soft,” she teased while rolling her hips in a small circle, making him grunt as his shaft was massaged from all sides.

Drawing back an inch, Vaalin jolted his hips forwards once more and drove into her with a firm thrust. The suddenness made her hiss with pleasure, her claws gripping into his shoulders tightly. “Soft, eh?” he retorted while lowering his snout to nuzzle under her jawline. “Nothing soft about me, sugar horns,” he added while beginning to pull back further. Her soaked walls tensed and gripped around his shaft as if begging him not to leave as he extracted half his length and then, with another sharp drive of his hips, sank back into her with a wet squelch that was overshadowed by her groan of ecstasy. Holding himself against her, he opened his maw and ghosted his fangs across her vulnerable neck before shifting to whisper in her ear. “Just try not to go limp when I fuck you senseless—” his words were cut short when her paw left his shoulder and yanked sideways, tightening the collar around his neck and pulling his head away.

Turning her head to look him square in the eyes, Feerah's lips split into a bright smile that looked almost sinister against her dark scales. “Vaalin, don't pretend that you aren't going to blow after a dozen thrusts like last time,” she mused and hooked her hind legs around his rump to grind him deep inside her. “At least try to get me there, okay?”

“Oh Fee-Fee—” Vaalin started but was corrected with another yank on his leash. The jerk only made him grin manically before snatching her paw with one of his and relieving the tension. “Feerah. I'm going to take you so good, you will beg for mercy twice,” he stated firmly and pulled his hips back in preparation for another thrust.

“Oh please…” Feerah retorted in disbelief while raising an eyeridge. “I never beg—”

“Twice,” Vaalin countered firmly and silenced any chance of rebuttal with another thrust into her. This time he didn't give her any pause before pulling back and repeating the process. Opening her mouth to try and say something witty, Feerah couldn't form any words other than a low moan as he began a purposeful rhythm.

Her tail tried to coil tighter with his, but her movements were clumsy as he rocked her into the bed with firm, heavy thrusts. Each time he pulled back further while driving all the way in until his firm knot kissed her folds. Scrunching her eyes closed again, Feerah focused on him gliding into her, stretching her walls in a delightful strain and then pulling back to leave her feeling empty. His snout returned to under her jaw and nosed her head back until her throat was exposed to the ceiling and her horns pressed into the cushions.

Vaalin took her forepaw and moved it to his shoulder before wrapping both of his under the point where her neck met her shoulders and pulled himself close. His silky, smooth fur pressed flat against the smooth, scaled keel of her chest as he held her and humped into her with a firm, reassuring pace. Like a well-oiled machine, his hips dragged back and surged forwards, each drive expelling the air from her lungs with a grunt of satisfaction that filled the drake's bedroom along with the wet, slicking noises.

Both of their hearts raced and their breathing became laboured. Keeping her head back, Feerah tried to avoid giving him the satisfaction of seeing the blissful look on her snout, all while he nuzzled against her throat and grazed his teeth against her scales. He could have latched on with a mating bite like almost any other male, but instead he tempted her, teased her, and made her crave more, all while he pistoned his cock into her again, and again, and again. The scent of their sex hung in the air between them and filled her lungs with the potent mix of her arousal layered with his own musk.

Tightening their embrace, the talons on Feerah's forepaws combed through the drake's silky fur before scrunching tight as he delivered a series of faster thrusts. His thighs collided with the back of hers and rocked her forwards with every sharp drive. She could hear his panting and feel the warmth of his breath against her throat, each exhale in sync with his humps and the filling sensation in her core. Holding him tight, she felt his body shift slightly to one side as he shifted his weight and freed up a forepaw, then gasped as he reached back and gripped behind her knee. With a firm but controlled press, he pulled one of her hind legs forward and folded it closer to her chest. The new angle caused his next drive to focus pressure across her sensitive walls and drew a whine from her, a sound unbecoming of her. Every time his semi-formed knot kissed her entrance, he rocked his hips forwards to grind the fleshy bulb against her clit, sending sparks through her body.

Showing no signs of stopping, Vaalin continued to deliver soul-fracturing thrusts while Feerah's climax came closer and closer until her whole body became tight with anticipation. For a brief moment, his thrusts faltered as her depths clamped down on his cock in a vain attempt to hold him in. Growling a low, dominant rumble into her jawline, he took her windpipe into his maw and squeezed just hard enough for her to feel the prick of his fangs.

Then he stopped holding back.

Retreating until only a third of his length was in her, he slammed down with a drive that felt as though he was splitting her in two. Her walls shuddered as they were pushed aside, and despite her efforts to hold him, he slipped back and thrust again with authority. Feerah's voice broke as she tried to call his name, the only sound a hoarse moan layered with ecstasy as her climax soared to new heights, then crashed down on her like a wave pummelling her into the soft bed. Her hind toes curled tight against her pawpads while her stifle joint dug into his rump, pulling him tighter to the point that she felt his knot stretch her vent wider. When he tried to pull back, she remained tight against him and her hips lifted off the ground before he humped downwards with all his strength.

The stretch of her entrance yawning wide around his thick lobes forced a pleasure-laden scream to echo off the bedroom walls. The sound masked the wet pop as he sank home, and quickly became broken as he started to frantically thrust with the pace of a jackhammer. Feerah's eyes went wide as she felt his knot swell rapidly inside her, and his thrusts began tugging and shoving her further into the mattress. With her hips twisted as he continued to hold her hind leg up, his shaft stroked and rubbed her tender walls with the precious inch he was able to move inside her. She could feel the soft fur of his underbelly against her pearl, the once long underfluff now mattered with their combined arousal. Her entire being quivered as her climax continued to press down on her to the point that breathing seemed impossible, even though his mating bite only held her in place. He didn't stop; tied and locked, Vaalin continued his relentless, frantic pace, all while his cock throbbed with impending release.

She heard it first, the sudden hitch in his breath as he inhaled a final lungful of air and held it while hammering away. It was a valiant attempt to prolong his release, but ultimately useless as he lost his rhythm. With a faltering tug backwards, her walls applied firm pressure to the back of his knot and then he suddenly mashed his pulled-back sheath to her vent. Feerah felt the telltale throb of his cock deep inside her as it pulsed twice, and then he groaned with his release. Renewing her grip on his shoulders and pulling him as tight as possible against her, Feerah’s wings went wide and sent the bedside lamp clattering to the floor as the drake began to pump rope after rope of seed into her depths. Although he held still against her, Feerah's hips worked on autopilot to gyrate against his, subjecting his hypersensitive shaft to undulating walls that milked and stroked him from all sides. The powerful egg-laying muscles that lined her passage clamped and worked his knot to the point that his mating bite quivered to a feeble chatter against her throat scales.

Exhaling the breath he had been holding in a low groan, Vaalin released her hind legs and throat before he slumped forwards over her chest. The warm weight of his furred body and feathered wings settling over the breathless Feerah felt more reassuring than the softest blanket, and while she relaxed her grip, she continued to hold him close. His cock continued to pulse and twitch as he seeded her, each pulse less than the last but still persistent, even after she stopped moving her hips and simply held him. Gasping a ragged breath of air, Feerah tried to calm her racing heart and speak, her first attempts failing until she swallowed hard. “I… I told… gods…” she started, her words faltering again.

She felt the vibration of the drake's exhausted laugh against her chest and when she leaned her head to one side to look at him, she saw his flustered expression as he rested it on the mattress. The once smooth fur framing his snout looked frazzled from where he had nuzzled her throat, giving him a dishevelled and wild look, while the playful glint in his eye beamed with pride. Swatting her paw against his muscular shoulder, Feerah forced another lungful of air.

“I told you… I don't beg. Let alone twice…”

Her words only seemed to amuse the drake further and his smile widened as he slowly lifted his heavy head to look down at her. Rolling his hips while still tied deep inside her, he made her groan before tilting his head to one side. He didn't answer her right away, instead leaning back and slowly walking his forepaws backwards until he was resting more on his haunches and began to undo the leather leash from just behind his jaw. Taking care not to damage the strap with his talons, he undid the knot before leaning back down. Feerah didn't know how long she had let the leash fall from her paw, but her eyes widened when she saw him holding each end.

Leaning forwards, his eyes gleamed with lustful desire as he draped the strap over her neck and lowered his head to her ear. “And who said I was done.”