A dragoness' duty(Illustrated story!)
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**This is an illustrated story commission that I have done for Mirnehviir**
Description: The king of a grand kingdom issues a decree that banishes its greatest resource, the dragons, away. In wake of this life-changing event, a dragoness decides to make the best of it by giving her best friend a most pleasurable parting gift, along with an offer he can't refuse.
Ilyniel the eastern dragoness belongs to me,
Mirnehviir belongs to
Art is done by Ara: http://www.furaffinity.net/user/araequinox/
Story is written by me,
A Dragoness' Duty
It looked just like an ordinary windmill, placed atop a hill, with a barn adjacent to it and a house further down the road, behind which spread fields of wheat. The miller's wife tended to the garden today, glancing at Ilyniel as she walked up the narrow pathway that led to the windmill.
"Why are you still here? You're a dragon yourself, wings or no wings. Got until midnight to avoid the hunters that will come after you."
Ilyniel ignored the woman's ramblings. She already knew of the decree King Babren signed, the one that invited his kingdom's greatest assets to politely relocate themselves before his wind riders made them to--or worse. She could have taken those bumbling bat riders a dozen at a time and still come out victorious, but sooner or later, her magic would dwindle, and fighting only bought time for the bronze, silver, and perhaps gold guard to assemble.
Nobody--not even dragons--wanted to face the silver guard of Babren's empire, much less the gold one.
"And who's going to help your man run the windmill? Your donkeys?" Ilyniel couldn't help herself at times, even when silence proved to be the best answer.
"Them, farmhands for hire, whoever's not a dragon." The fat woman--for she had the mother of all curves--turned her attention from her radishes to Ilyniel, standing upright, mud-caked hands thrust into her generous hips. "I don't agree with this, gold serpent, but that doesn't mean I shan't accept it. A decree is a decree, and if Babren starts to question the loyalty of the dragons under his service, then he may have a good reason to."
"Babren's a gnarled twig who can only piss and shit and talk big. When did he last make a public appearance? He can't even leave the palace, can't even step out of his room due to his aching knees."
"I'm a peasant, dragon. I don't give a midget radish about politics. Go impress someone else with your elevated knowledge on how to run a kingdom."
That said, Marla, Marta, Mareen, or whatever they called her returned to her precious vegetable rows, pulling weeds out with one hand and sprinkling water with the other.
"Get Mirn with you. That scaly butt won't listen to my man either, and he's been too good to us to be fashioned into armor."
Ilyniel swept her tail across her side, barely containing her snarl. People here--even the lowly peasants--got too used to polite, obedient dragons, often forgetting that their companions could turn them into snacks or burn down their homes on a whim.
And then what? Only the frozen tundras were left for man-eaters and arsonists, and no dragon worth his scales indulged in a little moment of mayhem at the cost of their life, or the lives of their mates or clutch.
Then again, Babren's decree was bound to tickle some paws the wrong way, paws that yearned to use their claws on something else than mindless prey.
The scent of crushed grain became more prominent the closer Ilyniel got to the mill, stinging her nostrils, making her snort several times before she got accustomed to it. Although her lithe, serpentine form had a certain grace while in the air, walking always came weird to Ilyniel. Her big feet, equipped with flexible and elongated toes, made up for the obvious distance between her forelimbs and hind legs, the trademark of her species. Most people found flying serpents ungainly for this very reason, and Ilyniel was inclined to agree with them. Steep trails were made to be flown over, not tackled by foot.
At the top of the hill, Yargot--for that bulky, imposing form could only belong to him--began to walk towards Ilyniel. He wore only an apron, trousers, and his usual frown.
"I want him gone, Lyn. He's had two weeks to mull this over. A few hours aren't going to make a difference."
So curt and snappy! Ilyniel stopped in her tracks, noticing the fine powder blanketing Yargot's light brown hair, the pungent scent of body odors oozing from his dirt-caked apron, along with his frayed boots. A farmer, through and through, with cold, blue eyes and a stiff pose that reflected his unwavering demeanor.
"Give me two hours--"
"Thirty minutes."
"That's not going to do it. One hour is all it takes for him to..."
"Thirty minutes."
"Listen, human. He has helped you save thousands of hours. The least you can do is--"
"Thirty minutes," Yargot said, staring Ilyniel down, his hands eased into the pockets of his pants.
"That's not even enough for a mating."
"Fly away, mate somewhere else. Thirty minutes is all you have before I ride into town with Mirnehviir's release contract."
Ilyniel's lips shuddered with snarling intent. Her claws tightened with pent-up irritation, and her tufted tail tip flicked from side to side.
"I'll take it, but only if we're allowed some privacy."
"You have it. Thirty minutes. No more, no less."
She used to like Yargot. Pragmatic man, fair to dragons, even more so to Mirnehviir. He had left him the barn by the windmill and built a second one near his house, just to give Mirnehviir a place to call his own, to arrange it however he wished.
Ilyniel found her friend inside, laying down on a pile of hay on the far left corner. Sheets of glass, along with various other sculptures, lined the walls, each beautiful and exquisite in their own way. Mirnehviir himself fondled a statue resembling a flying serpent, shifting it between his forepaws.
"Twenty-three years, Lyn. A quarter of a lifetime for a human, a day in the life of a dragon. I don't want to go. I have a good thing going with Yargot. He can make due with the windmill, but my glass is what kept him afloat."
"It's not up to you, Mirn. It's either the wilds or bat riders, swarms of them."
He didn't reply. Not just yet. He kept caressing that small figurine, his light grey fins twitching, ears shifting, the spaded tip of his tail completely still, just like his ruby colored eyes.
"I made this one for you. Half of what's in here is inspired by you. Guess that makes it all yours." He ran his clawed toes along the winding spine of the serpentine statue, the glass emitting thin, pleasant clinks upon contact with Mirn's claws.
"I have no use for pretty baubles. What should I even do with them?"
Mirnehviir tucked his dark wings tighter against his sides, as if to warm himself after the cold shudder that rippled through his frame. "I don't know. Trade them for something. I haven't planned that far."
"You didn't plan at all," Ilyniel said, keeping her voice placid, even though instinct urged her to coil around her friend and squeeze the sadness out of him. "Nothing lasts where humans are concerned."
"Yes, well, I'm not like you. The wilds are not a place I wish to return to, and flying from one family to the next, like a shifting breeze, isn't my style."
He had spent so much time in comfort it began to rub off on him. Part of Ilyniel sympathized with the plight of her friend, but a whimpering dragon made for pretty poor entertainment, especially when their minutes together were numbered.
Instead of replying to him, Ilyniel settled next to Mirn, lowering herself onto the pale scutes covering her belly, wrapping her flexible tail around his, poking her head under his jaws, pretending to look at his bauble while enjoying the warmth of his neck.
"Lyn, I'm not in the mood for--"
"This is superb craftsmanship. The limbs are a bit stiff and short, but sticking emeralds into the eye sockets made up for everything else."
"You...inspired me in numerous occasions," Mirnehviir said, his voice dwindling a little. No male, no matter how upset, would choose to wallow in despair with a female sitting next to them.
"Think I've done more than just inspire you. This isn't just a beautiful work. Beauty is a construct based entirely on childhood impressions, influences and role models, but what we have here is far more important. You went to great length to adjust the horns and spikes to match the proportions, and the fact that you've added claws to each paw shows that you aimed to impress with this one."
"Have I succeeded?" Mirn said breathlessly, his cheeks probably simmering from the way he looked at Ilyniel, his gaze so stern.
Ilyniel shifted a paw on top of his, then reached for the statuette, rolling it between her toes before placing it to the far side, away from their reach. "I suppose you did, considering your other works lack such minute details."
"At least...one good thing happened today," Mirn said, looking away. His claws curled around the wooden floorboards, and his tail started shifting erratically.
Warm tingles pricked at Ilyniel's scales. It was too adorable, to watch her dear friend simmer in her presence. It always ended like this, but today, Mirn averted his gaze from hers much too quickly, which meant he had been thinking the same thing.
We've been friends for the better part of a year, Mirn. There is no scenario where I walk out of this barn without dripping with your seed, Ilyniel thought. Her sex already clenched at the prospect of getting Mirnehviir inside her, a male that often chose to relieve himself in his maw or paws. It baffled Ilyniel, how such a good looking dragon refused to seek the company of dragonesses. She would have gladly lifted her tail for him, but the damn coward always found an excuse to avoid putting it inside her.
To warm him up to the idea, she nuzzled the underside of his jaw, releasing a soft trill. Mirnehviir, as expected, remained frozen in place, though the shivers creeping under his scales told her more about him than any combination of words. He enjoyed having their sides pressed against each other, her light colored mane spilling over his dark scales like a protective blanket. He definitely loved the suave caress of her tongue along his cheek and down his neck, as well as the clutch of her forepaw around his.
"Lyn, I..."
"You what, my dearest?" She said between the tantalizing caresses of her tongue. Although Mirn didn't reciprocate her affection, feeling the rough texture of his scales grind against her tongue was enough to work her up. Mirnehviir had a distinct scent to him, earthy, with a musky tang. Breathing it in heated up her vent. Tasting it made her moisten, her vent clenching, muscles shifting to release a trickle of sharp, female fragrance that Mirnehviir's flared nostrils sucked in.
"I'm...thinking we should leave," Mirnehviir said, letting out a thin growl of uncertainty, shifting his hindquarters left and right, probably trying to find a comfortable position to accommodate his growing erection. "Yargot--you met him outside. You had to. He gave you a mouthful as well, didn't he? It's in his habit, even though he seldom means it. He never speaks bad of you, though, and even if he did, I would immediately...meeeep...."
He trailed off as Ilyniel bumped her snout against his, rubbing her neck against his, crooning her pent-up desire.
"We'll fly off together. That's the plan. But you will feel much lighter in the air after spending that great load of yours inside me."
Mirnehviir's webbed spines stood erect, his fins flaring, ears perking. "I...Lyn, this is the most random--"
Oh, for sky's sake, be a male for once! Ilyniel thought, slipping her paws under him, pulling his tail with her own to distract him, then shoving him on his side. That put an end to his nonsensical string of words, leaving him wide-eyed, his jaws gaped, his body stunned and vulnerable.
Good. Just the way she wanted him.
Ilyniel slithered on top of him, pushing him onto his back. He splayed his wings to the sides to keep them safe from harm, but other than that, he did virtually nothing to stop her, other than seize her shoulders with his forepaws.
With his body pinned under her, Ilyniel slammed the base of her tail against his, keeping him from squirming, her haunches slipping between his, her chest pressing against him, her head looming inches above him. For the final touch, Ilyniel lowered her hindquarters on top of his underbelly region, her wet entrance easily swallowing the dark lump of meat that his growing cock was.
She hissed, he growled, and they both stared at each other for a moment, breathless. Ilyniel had expected Mirn to fight back, to argue, to wrestle her into submission and dismount her, as he probably wished right now. Instead, weak whimpers fled past his lips as he swelled within her, his hips bucking in an attempt to secure his malehood inside her.
"This...this is too....mrarrrrrrrrrrr!"
"Wet and tight?" Ilyniel warbled, placing an affectionate lick between his nostrils. "It's how females are, Mirn, and you're enjoying yourself too much for your own good. The only males who grow to full mast in a couple of heartbeats are the ones who are desperate for the vent, but never admit it." To emphasize her point, she thrust her hips against him, slamming her slit against his, loosening a sharp hiss as her muscles contracted around his girth.
"Wrong, it's wrong, I'll...I'll cum inside you and eggs...grarhh, you'll bear eggs, Lyn."
"Let me worry about the eggs," she whispered into his ear, flicking her tongue against it, rocking her hips gently to spread her wetness along his cock. Each movement, no matter how subtle, sent fiery snakes through her shuddering insides. Mirnehviir's blunt tip speared through her layers of flesh, stretching her, pushing its way through her tight cunt, the ridges lining the top and bottom of his member dragging along her silken insides. Finally, his knot applied blissful pressure to her entrance, parting her vent to its limits. Although she could take that delightful swell, her breath caught when he hilted himself fully inside her, his girth daunting and euphoric at the same time.
"No, no," Mirnehviir cried out, clawing at her shoulders, kicking his hind paws, thrashing on the ground. "I can't...shouldn't cum inside you, Lyn. I love you. Love you too much to leave you with a heavy belly."
That was oh so very sweet of him, but Ilyniel had more pressing matters in her mind than listening to his whining. She wrapped her jaws around his neck, fangs biting into his sensitive scales until he roared his defeat.
"Let me worry about a heavy belly. It's my duty as a female. Yours is to cry your heart out when you spill that great load inside me."
To help a little with that, Ilyniel coiled her tail around one of his haunches, dragging it to the far side in a show of dominance. Her hind paws clawed at the floor for purchase as she began to pump in and out of him, starting at a slow, practiced rhythm, enjoying the soft squelches of his hardened flesh plowing through her soaked wet insides.
Though he was all growls and squirming a moment ago, Mirn's grip over her shoulders faltered, the toes of his hind paws clenching, his snout scrunching from the deep pleasure slithering through his throbbing member.
"You are the kindest, most selfless of dragons I have met," Ilyniel said, sharing a kiss with him in the form of a long, tantalizing lick on the very tip of his snout. "So don't ruin this moment by claiming you're not good enough for me. That's my choice to make."
"Lyn, the decree...threat to...your young...our young..." he murmured in between the growls and hisses of delight. He attempted to slip out of her a few times, but Ilyniel immediately slammed her slit against his, firmly securing him into her sweltering depths.
"We'll manage, or--hrrr--I'll manage if you're too much of a coward to leave me on my own. But right now, all I care about is feeling your...mrrrrr...essence explode inside me."
"No. Stop. I...close...so close..."
She could tell it from the way his cock lurched inside her, spewing thin jets of precum that made her tense up and growl. Her muscles began to mold around Mirn's shaft, her repeated strokes against his member loosening her enough for that rod of flesh to slide in and out of her effortlessly. Ilyniel pulled up to the base of his tip, never letting go of him, before shoving her hips forward, her spine tightening, her head arching upwards as her vent began to throb, heralding her own impending climax.
"That's how it is, Mirn. If you don't breed the female, the female breeds you." She snarled straight in his face, pulling her lips up to reveal rows of glistening fangs as she began to pound him relentlessly, as fast as her quivering haunches allowed. Stars clouded her vision, the heat within her groin raising to unbearable levels.
Mirnehviir, a male who hadn't been with a female in ages, teetered on the edge of his climax. He tried to take his mind somewhere--anywhere-- to keep the pressure building within his knot from bursting, but he was far too weak, and Ilyniel's embrace much too snug and wet to resist it.
Rather than sit on the floor like a weakling, Mirn wrapped his forepaws around Ilyniel, holding her in a tight, loving embrace, nuzzling and licking at her neck with short, desperate strokes, his wings fluttering from the effort to last a second longer.
Ilyniel offered him no respite. She rammed into him, and rammed into him, until his knot swelled to refuse, making it nigh impossible for her to keep at it. That was when she slammed her slit against him, forcing his entire girth to bury inside her.
That did it. Mirn's bellowing roar reverberated across the barn. It made her scales shudder and her cunt pulse in rapid rhythms, clenching down around him, and only loosening to squirt her femcum all over his belly. As soon as her smoldering essence bathed Mirn's cock, the male's member throbbed, shooting thick, consecutive arrows of creamy batter into her depths. Ilyniel growled, hissed, even mewled when her voice attuned a high pitch, the male's overwhelming load overpowering her senses.
Her limbs gave in, her muscles paralyzed by the deep, satisfying pleasure throbbing within her sex. Her breaths came in short, ragged gusts, interrupted by the strings of cum pelting against her quivering walls.
It took Mirnehviir a whole minute to taper off inside Ilyniel. His knot remained firm, keeping them tied into each other's embrace, but his load had been so great that some of it dribbled from the sides, depositing on Mirn's slit and belly.
Ilyniel gave him a soft nuzzle, trilling her satisfaction, but he remained stunned, wide-eyed, in awe of what happened.
That look rubbed off on Ilyniel the wrong way.
"We're done, I guess."
She tried to dislodge herself from him, but Mirn's paws held her in place.
And then, his tongue bathed her snout, a gentle hum igniting within his throat.
"No. We're not done. You were fantastic, and it will take me a while to explain why."
Compliments! His words animated Ilyniel, making her rumble in glee. "We've got time," she said, biting back her chuckle.
Wouldn't it be sweet, if Yargot found them together, his barn all dirty with the product of their love. That was bound to get a reaction out of that emotionless tool. The question was which.
***THE END***
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