The Toll of Boldness
Story Description: Heat forces Mariska, a cynical and irascible kobold, to venture past the borders of civilization in search of shelter. Lucky for her, she stumbles upon a cave in which the runtiest, most pathetic of dragon dwells. Or so she likes to believe, until the creature's patience runs thin from her ceaseless pestering...
This story contains pseudo-rape and ambiguous consent as its kinks. If they turn the stomach, avoid reading this story. Ill-intended comments will be deleted and their users possibly blocked.
The Toll of Boldness (Commission written for a user who wants to remain anonymous)
Stupid heat. It always came at the wrong times and lasted for far longer than necessary.
Just like last year, her situation drove Mariska away from home and forced her to seek shelter into the tenebrous woods of a nearby mountain village whose name she couldn't quite recall. Pine...something. Pinewood, Pineblossom, Pinecove, Pine....whatever. Not like it mattered. Those self-righteous bastards had refused to accept her coin, claiming it was stolen or earned through nefarious ways, as if that truly mattered to them.
Whatever! Better that they didn't sell her that stallion. The whinnying, stomping beast ogled her from across the barn, erect and jittery. Given the chance, Mariska would have been his mount, and not the other way around. Not to mention the males of her own kind. Breann, Ajistov and the rest of the gang usually treated her well, but with heat came wooing, and wooing led to a belly heavy with eggs Marissa didn't intend to bear. Not now, not ever. Every male kobold in her village was a bum, a scavenger, a worthless mate with a too uncertain future that she wished not share.
Her choice had led Mariska into ever darkening woods that forced her to wrap her furs tighter around her flat chest. Freezing gusts blew tendrils of snow through the laden boughs, the tiny snowflakes pelting her woolen coverings and slipping past her cowl and into her eyes. She snarled to herself, shuffling through the snowdrifts with a maladroit gait, wobbling from the fierceness of the gale.
How unfair, for one of her station to slough through snow filled trenches built by the very people who reduced her to some mere vermin, worse than a gnoll. At least they hunkered down into the shit stained recesses of Pinewhatever, while she had to endure a blizzard, all because her cunt decided to weep disgusting, colorless slime.
Down in the abandoned trenches, the wind lost its bite, but its permeating chill still seeped between her legs, licking at her soggy coverings with icy tongues. Mariska winced, pressing her legs tighter against each other, hands sliding along the furrowed walls of the narrow, earthen walls for balance. As if her deplorable situation wasn't tormenting enough, the swollen lips of her sex sweltered, their heat contrasting with the frigid dampness of her loincloth. No matter how hard Mariska tried to get her mind off her heat-drenched pussy, the biting chill reminded her of that most irritating and untimely need.
She blinked her bleary, golden eyes, the slitted pupils swollen wide to pierce the darkness. Owls hooted all around her, fleeing from branch to bough to canopy, sprinkling swirls of snow as they abandoned their perch. Thin but piercing howls sounded in the distance. Could have been timber wolves, direwolves, or worse. It didn't matter to Mariska. Death seemed a preferable alternative over...whatever she was doing.
I could have stayed back in Pinewhatever. Join the gnolls in the gutters, bargain with a beastmaster to cage me in his pen, work in a pleasure house.
A myriad of options flooded her mind, too easily dismissed by her stinging pride. She had told everyone who had refused to bargain to go to hell, and through a most ironic twist of fate, she ended up in there. A frozen, oppressive, linear and never ending hell through which she fumbled blindly, aimlessly.
When she finally spotted the cave, Mariska's legs trembled from strain. Her panting breaths colored the air in front of her with steamy vapors, clouding the mirage-like shelter that she had never hoped to find. She took upon the incline leading to its mouth, the earth here frozen and uneven. Her bare paws fumbled around for purchase as her toes ceaselessly slipped into jagged nooks and crannies and pits that shouldn't have been there. At least her claws proved useful, hooking into the miniature crevasses to adjust her balance as she inspected the cave.
It looked conspicuously clean. To the sides, moss and lichens grew onto the stone, but the frontal portion of the cave sparkled a dazzling slate grey from the film of ice forming upon it. Its mouth had the specific, uneven shape, the edges smoothened to perfection and more than generous in their width. Why, a whole dragon could fit in here!
Mariska shrugged off the pang of dreadful excitement growing within her belly and continued upon the slick stone floor of the cave. Water dribbled off the prominent stalactites strewn across the ceiling, pattering her cowl. The walls had a wave-like, undulating look to them, colored a rich brown speckled with hints of white where ice began to form.
A slow, rumbling, and heavy breath echoed through the cavern, enhanced by the straight corridor leading further inside. Mariska stopped in her tracks, gripping the sleeves of her furred coat tighter. Her short, pudgy tail curled around a haunch, the twitching tip slipping through the tangles of her woolen cape.
That had to be a dragon! She had met enough such beasts, either locked in a beastmaster's cage or paraded through her town as loyal pets. Just like certain kobolds, some dragons preferred to forfeit their pride and liberty in favor of a mundane but peaceful existence. Humans provided them with shelter, food and mates aplenty, while all they had to do was carry them around on their back and follow their instructions.
Wild dragons, however, gave Mariska pause. Their behavior could be erratic at best. Most of them refused to utter words, let alone listen to them. For a kobold like her, venturing into the dragon's lair was a most foolish endeavor.
That was why Mariska shrugged off her apprehension, licked a water droplet off her muzzle, and continued her walk along the too smooth floor. Every now and then, the rustle of wings coaxed a shiver or two from Mariska, which she promptly brushed aside with silent growls. This wasn't an adult dragon. Caught in the throes of dreams, his thin growls and soft moans revealed his age quite clearly.
A runt. Barely more than a fledgling. Upon taking a sharp turn left, the slumbering dragon's form not only confirmed her suspicions, but mocked his very species.
He was tiny! Barely bigger than a horse, with an angular head boasting smooth, tiny, pebbly scales colored a rich black. Only females had such soft, graceful features, but the two sets of horns begged to differ. So did the three sets of spikes growing at the far end of his jaws, along with the throbbing flesh squeezing its way out of his genital slit.
The dragon gave a husky whimper. His hind paw shifted over his member, the toes touching and curling around his meat, grabbing onto it.
Mariska bit back a gasp, expecting the dragon to wake up with a pained shrill. Instead, she held her breath locked within her chest as she watched him knead at his shaft with those long, sinuous toes, the bucking of his hips shoving his blunt tip, together with the nubs of flesh lining the underside of his member, through his fanned toes. He only did that two or three suspenseful times in utter silence before he shifted onto his belly.
The golden kobold gritted her teeth. A shudder rocked her frame from the discomfort that must have produced the dragon, but somehow, he didn't protest nor wake up. The speckle of pink that marked his malehood shrunk back into its confines, which was soon covered by a thick, dark haunch. The dragon yawned halfway, revealing its long, pointy, reptilian fangs along with his bifurcated tongue. A hoarse rumble echoed through the cave, low but strong enough to rattle the kobold's chest, before his steady breathing took over.
You are not threatening at all, are you? Mariska thought, eying the dry hides upon which he rested. One of them, an auburn pelt speckled with white spots, rested under an ivory talon. All Mariska had to do was relocate that talon if she wanted to wrap herself into something dry tonight.
Besides, the chances of rousing the dragon were astronomically low. The runt had just kneaded his ruddy serpent without batting an eyelid. Even if worst came to worst, she could still outrun him through the labyrinthine corridors leading into his sleeping chamber. Those wings looked prone to knock over a few stalactites on the way out, and given the tangled horns crowning his head, the dragon had every chance to get them stuck somehow.
Mariska tiptoed around the circular chamber, scrutinizing the dragon. Gray frills adorned the crest of his head and the end of his cheeks, twitching and flaring independently of each other. His dorsal frills flattened along the back of his neck, same for the spines linked by the leathery webbing, while his cheek frills rose and fell in unison with his breath. All of his paws had four long, serpentine digits, the hind toes longer, thinner, and a bit more elegant than the ones on his forepaws, which looked stubby and unwieldy in spite of the generously curved talons tipping them. Though his limbs looked strong and his black scales lustrous, this dragon didn't inspire neither terror nor grandeur. His wings looked barren and dreary, like a cloudy sky, with not one speckle of color. The two pairs of ivory horns also grew straight and bland, while the three pronged spiky formations embellishing his too smooth jaw had barely developed. Only the middle spike acquired a bit of length and sharpness, while the side ones remained too blunt, too awkward.
Mariska swallowed back her inner apprehension, took a deep breath, and tiptoed towards the dragon's haunch. His tail lay curled around the opposite limb, so her task seemed impossibly simple. Once within reach, she grabbed the hide with both hands and tugged at it with all her might. The talon propped atop it caused it no visible damage, and the dragon simply tucked his hind paw under his belly, splaying his wings over the ground as a great sigh escaped him.
Too easy, Mariska thought, an elegant smirk coloring her face. To further mock the sleeping runt, she chose to sleep on the opposite side of the chamber, right in front of the dragon. She would finger herself in front of him, squirt her juices in front of him, maybe poop in front of him if that particular need hit her. That lumbering lizard wouldn't be any wiser, given the steady sounds of his breathing.
As Mariska began unfastening the knots holding her cloak together, an errant but amusing thought struck her. Maybe her scent would tickle his nostrils, enough to goad him into grabbing himself like he did before. Wouldn't that be a sight to see! Mariska had to force back laughter as she imagined the dragon waking up with a startled shriek after scratching his member by accident. That seemed like the thing a young, sexually frustrated and inexperienced specimen like him would do.
After discarding her clothes and exposing the pale, leathery scutes covering her neck, chest and belly to the chilly, damp air of the cave, Mariska began unwrapping her loin coverings methodically. The cotton swathes she had used to line the inside of her woolen underwear glued to her puffy lips, discolored to a wan, disgusting grey from the copious amount of juices permeating the smooth cloth fabric. In a fit of heedless frustration with the sheer amounts of fluids her crevice had oozed, Mariska tore the cotton strips off her pussy and hurled them across the room...
And straight onto the dragon's muzzle.
Her little hands slapped over her mouth to muffle her gasp. A strong, eerie tremor petrified her, locking her in place, rendering her unable to move, unable to breathe, and incapable to think of a way out of this potentially alarming situation. Mocking the dragon through subtle means was one thing, but tossing her heat-laden padding right on top of his snout was downright asinine!
A golden eye cracked open. A second after, the other followed, his pupils narrowed into thin, focused slits. His nostrils flared, twitched a few times to take in the miasma permeating the air around him. It took him a long, awkward moment to locate the source, which he tossed aside with a jerk of his sinuous neck. With the object of his curiosity removed, the dragon's gaze once again settled upon Mariska, its chilling touch forcing the kobold to tie the doeskin hide tighter around her lithe body.
"What are you, tiny creature?" came his surprisingly brassy voice, laden with a hint of palpable spite. He must not have taken kindly to her trespass. Then again, Mariska talked down bigger beasts than him into submission. Every wild animal had an innate submissive nature hardwired into the deep recesses of its mind. Mariska had but seize it in order to control the dragon.
"You mean to ask who I am, dragon," the little kobold held her ground, tying the doeskin around her torso as if it was a towel so that she could shove her hands into her petite hips. "Mind your manners, and I may reveal my name to you."
His frills fanned out, a subtle snarl wrinkling the edges of his muzzle. "That pelt was not yours to take, little lizard."
"And yet I have claimed it from under your ignorant nose. Not like it matters to one such as you, whose belly is already stroked by the thickest, smoothest of furs," she remarked. Several timber wolf hides poked past his flanks, their mottled colors too obvious against his midnight scales. He also had bear, rabbit, squirrel furs to warm his stiff arse, much softer and fluffier than the rugged skin Mariska had fashioned into a makeshift dress of sorts.
"It matters a great deal, tiny horns. It is mine to own, and mine to give."
The dragon continued to study her, his wings flexing and shifting upon his back, tail dragging along the bare floor of the cavern, a monotonous swish that grated Mariska's ears.
"Then get up and claim it," Mariska taunted the lumbering beast, patting her belly mockingly. "I believe it fits me quite well, not to mention how dry it is compared to the rest of my clothes. I shall hold onto it for as long as I please, given that I snatched it from right under your nose."
Matching her wit against a creature several times her size enflamed Mariska's senses. That customary, intoxicating thrill associated with a perilous situation coursed through her veins, fortifying her muscles, rousing her senses, and making her scales tingle from the rush of adrenaline. There was nothing quite like talking down a dragon in its own den, especially an impotent one such as him. What could he do to her? Chide her to death?
And for what? A stupid skin with no value?
It looked ridiculous, now that she noticed visible claw marks marring its surface. Clefts left by his fangs split the bottom of the pelt in several places, and cold, humid air slithered through several punctures that Mariska missed in her rush to relinquish her wet clothing if favor of something dry.
And he thought himself a capable hunter... Pathetic! Dragons needed one precise bite to claim a life, while this weakling scratched and bit his prey till it bled out, most likely.
"Do not toy with me, short tail," the dragon said, pushing himself up onto his fours and inching forward one lazy step at a time. "I have little patience for thieves who slink into my home to steal loot that I rightfully claimed. Return what is mine and I shall warm you under my wing until sunrise, rrrrr?"
Mariska stepped back from his prodding muzzle, snarling in disgust at his offer. "Under your wing? More like next to your perverse shaft that you decided to stroke with a grubby paw in your sleep. Benevolent as that offer seems, I have little intent to wake up covered in your white goo simply because you found no female to stick it into."
Her words must have struck a nerve, for the dragon's frills sagged, crest spines flattening along the back of his neck. He lifted a tentative forepaw which he placed back on the ground once words refused to come. His forked tongue dashed along his muzzle, brushing his nostrils repeatedly, as if to clean away the scent imprinted by her heat-soaked cotton strips.
"Wait...you mean to imply that I'm the first female whose heat you smelled?"
Unable to hide her snide green, Mariska trotted back and forth around the dragon, giggling to herself every time the dragon shifted a haunch or lowered a wing over the crimson speckle growing between his legs. This was absolutely precious! A genuine, stammering, virgin dragon plagued by a propriety complex! That explained a great many things while it also planted new questions into Mariska's mind, their roots already taking hold.
Did his parents abandon him as a hatchling? Had his siblings chased him out of the nest? Would he even know where to put it, should a female lift her tail for this thoroughly incompetent creature?
"Maybe that's why you wish me to return your deer hide, dragon," Mariska drawled, sliding a hand between her legs. "You must be quite curious to see how a kobold like me looks down there. It's a bit of a crammed fit for you, but pussy is still pussy yes?"
The dragon tensed up. A visible shudder rippled through his frame, causing his wings to fold neatly in their sockets.
"It's fleshy, dragon. Warm, moist, and above all, softer than silk," Mariska spoke as she shuffled to his head, spreading her arms to grab his snout, her plan already outlined in her head. She would give him a whiff, maybe a lick, and then leave him helplessly hard and frustrated with his inability to drain his seed. His paws looked anything but comfortable, their underside lined with wan scales flaked from arduous treks on frozen, hard packed ground. His maw was an even worse choice. No sane make could possibly consider sticking the very thing that made them male into a tight maw lined with dozens of pointy teeth.
That was why her plan was brilliant, and why it had to work. Let the scaled, stingy bastard ponder on his selfishness while he chased her out of his cave with his erection slapping against his belly.
For some reason, the dragon snuffed out her plans. His neck arched in an S shape, golden, authoritative eyes bearing upon her.
"I rescind my invitation. Leave at once, kobold."
His growl did not intimidate Mariska, neither did his crooked pose. She bolted around, giggling at the dragon's futile efforts to mask his engorged organ.
"No need to be shy, dragon. It's not like I haven't seen your penis before. And is that a knot?"
Yes. Yes it was. Although barely inflated, the thickening base of the male's cock sported two almost oval bulges that spread his genital slit enough for Mariska to steal a glimpse of his gnarled, fleshy insides. Unlike a female's vent, males had thicker walls ridged with prominent furrows whose purpose eluded her.
"Mmm, not the prettiest dragon cock by a long shot, but it's nothing too shabby."
"Stop!" The male thundered, shooting onto his fours and flaring his frills and wings to their maximum width. "Away with you, foul mouthed creature. I shall tolerate your uncouthness no longer."
His fangs bared in utmost irritation, the dragon looked more majestic than Mariska first gave him credit for. Every scale on his body looked like shards of onyx polished to perfection. Muscles rippled under his hide, turning taut, fueled by his sinister intent.
And yet, Mariska broke down in a fit of squeaky laughter, clutching her stomach to keep herself from toppling over. His--his penis! It--it bobbed in swift, jerky arches, slapping his belly and drawing muffled whimpers from the beast who desperately tried to put up a strong, frightening front.
"Your...cock is...hahahahaha...it's....ahaha--AAAAAH!"
Mariska's voice died in her throat as a huge weight slammed into her, unbalancing her. She toppled onto her back, jaws strained from how wide they opened, yet no scream, no yelp, not even a whimpered escaped past her clenched throat.
"Nhhh," she whined as three massive toes pinned her onto the ground, the tip of an ivory claw aptly driven against her neck, its pressure almost suffocating to the little kobold. Through bleary eyes stained with the tears of faltering mirth, she noticed the dragon's snout looming above her, his pupils so sharp they could almost slice through her.
"I have warned you one too many times, insolent lizard, but my patience has its limits, and so does my self-control when exposed to such....grrr....enticing scents."
"EEEEEEEEEEEEEP!" Mariska yowled in utter fright as fangs descended upon her, her cry so sharp it lacerated her throat, stifling her shrill. For the next few, dreadful seconds, the kobold squeezed her eyes shut, her jaws clenched so hard they hurt.
Surprisingly, the dragon didn't hurt her. His sharp fangs methodically cut through the doeskin, which he brushed aside with a flick of his toes. In the short, desperate moment during which the dragon lifted his grubby paw off her, Mariska wondered if she could have fled, but the familiar weight of the dragon's foot sealed her hopes. Her hands shoved into a toe, pushing against it with all of her strength, feet kicking frantically at his forepaw.
Nothing worked. A single toe was only a few inches shier than her height and width. She couldn't hope to move one, let alone three of those monstrous, taloned appendages.
"I have smelled many a female, but never tasted one."
Without giving her any quarters, the despicable brute fit his impossibly long, thick, bifurcated tongue through her dainty lips and right into her canal, the two pronged tip squirming inside of her. Mariska's back arched instinctively, her breath halting in wake of the flood of paralyzing pleasure that seized her senses. Her lower jaw hung agape as every muscle in her body brimmed with ecstasy the likes of which she had never experienced.
The dragon didn't stand idle. He shifted onto his haunches to free his other forepaw, bringing his erection ridiculously close to her petite body. That vile spire pulsated, throbbed and jerked harder and faster, the bumps adorning the underside of his shaft swelling visibly, before her very eyes.
As sudden as he shoved his tongue into her, the dragon pulled it out, tossing his head back and loosening a jarring, earsplitting roar that shook the very cave in which they dwelled.
"Rrrrrich, hrrrr, ferrrtile," came his barely intelligible, raspy voice. He licked at his snout incessantly while his golden eyes hungrily ogled her outstretched folds.
"Morrrre. MOOORE!"
Mariska yelped as her legs were forced to the sides with such raw, feral strength she thought they would break. As if the shock stemming from the close to being dismembered experience wasn't enough, the dragon bucked his snout into her lower belly, his lips taut around her crevice, tongue pushing and pulling out of her faster than she deemed possible.
Her mind whirled, and her thrumming heart threatened to explode from the too sudden, too potent bliss clutching her body in its vicelike grip. Mariska's paws let go of the dragon's talons to cup her face instead as she felt herself sinking deeper and deeper into the restless sea of pleasure.
Unable to rein in her urges, all Mariska could do was grab her muzzle and squeeze it with all the strength she could muster. The last thing she wanted was to cry out in pleasure and give this monster--this appalling, thrice damned, overgrown newt--the delight of making her cum.
As if her squirts didn't do that already. They rushed out of her with such force the dragon released an uncharacteristically sharp yelp when her liquid delight splattered all over his face and entered his nostrils. He took several, awkward seconds to lick his lips, during which he eyed her folds suspiciously.
Seizing the opportunity, Mariska sought crawl, stumble, lurch and run towards the cave's exit on weak, trembling legs.
Stars still speckled her vision from the overpowering orgasm the dragon unwittingly gave to her heat-stricken body. Her thoughts felt fuzzy, distorted, and her head still spun. Mariska seized upon the tendrils of panic coiled around her heart, using that one intrinsic motivation to put as much distance between her and her captor as possible.
"No, no, no, fertile one. You are not leaving. Not until I plant my legacy within you."
Rough, uncaring paws plucked Mariska from the ground, lifting the thrashing kobold up to the dragon's leering snout. He didn't even regard her face. All he had eyes for--all that he wanted--was the slimy crack between her legs, and he hesitated not one moment to make that clear through a surprisingly soft lick.
"I intended for things to be different, little one," the dragon spoke between the shlick, schlick, shlick of his tongue lapping at her shuddering pussy. "But my dull coloring repels females. My dim courage prevents me from approaching them, and I greatly lack in strength and intent to steal another's mate or daughter."
He brought his snout, soggy with her juices, up to her face. "For a male dragon, to know not the touch of a female, to shoot his seed in maw and paw, is the greatest disgrace my kind knows. I tried to live with my shame, to suppress it and bury it beneath my existential apathy, but you just..." he paused to let out a sigh of defeat and shook his head gently, frills glued to his skull in regret, or so Mariska liked to believe.
"You just had to ruin all that by stirring a crave within me the likes of which I never deemed possible."
Mariska held out her hands in front of her, trying to placate the dragon. "I was wrong, but if you let me go, I promise I will leave you alone and never come back. I am so very sorry and....and..." her train of thought came to an end, her hopes shattered by the dragon's glazed, unfocused eyes. Though a sliver of sympathy broke through the thick layers of pent-up lust before, the dragon now wrestled with himself once again, a battle that ended the moment he resumed licking Mariska's folds.
Cold dread coalesced within her stomach when his grip tightened around her flanks. He cupped her gently in his massive paws, like a prized lover, but the angle of her descent, along with the dragon's position on his haunches, revealed his nefarious plans to her.
He was going to impale her on his waiting cock!
Mariska's heart turned to the size of a pebble, her previous verve swept away by the terror that now fettered her being.
"Don't, don't," she whimpered as she felt his tip brushing against her entrance. "I am unfit to bear your clutch, and you are big, so big! I'll die, dragon! Your knot will tear me open and I'll bleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeed tttttooo ghhhaaaaaaaa!"
Every trace of tenderness that had restrained the dragon was now gone. Mariska was sure of that, for his paws shoved her so hard against his cock that she was forced to take three quarters of his shaft inside of her, right up to his inflating knot.
If his tongue loosened her to her limits, then his cock stretched her twice--thrice--past them. His sheer girth took her breath away, leaving her unable to squirm or even shrill out her pain to the deaf, uncaring walls of the cave.
"Grraaaah!" The dragon's hoarse, feral growl rattled her ribcage. "It....it feels so good to be inside moist, warm, silky female."
So good, in fact, that he pushed himself up onto three legs, shifting his grip on Mariska so that he held her with only one paw. His wings unfurled, batting at the air for balance, claws scampering along the floor as he awkwardly jerked his hips forward to drive that oversized, thickening rod straight into Mariska's sanctuary.
In a surreal twist of fate, her heat addled body perceived his daunting thickness as a tool of pleasure, blessing her with an orgasm to help her cope with the pain by being speared so deep and so thoroughly. The flood of pleasure brought cherished respite to Mariska for several moments, during which she soared to the highest peak of her pleasure. Emboldened by the copious wetness leaking out of her, the dragon began humping her in his earnest, alternating his grip on her. For two thrusts, he clutched her in a single paw by her midriff. For the next three thrusts, he reared onto his hind legs and cupped her between both forepaws, driving her hard against his throbbing, demanding length.
To make matters infinitely worse, he didn't even have the decency to sit idle while breeding her. Every now and then, he lumbered about his cave, letting Mariska dangle from his cock in the most vile, undignified of ways.
Eventually, he found what he was looking for. A ledge on top of which he could rest his forepaws for leverage. For Mariska, that translated into headbutting a wall in unison with his thrusts, the wet, perverted sounds of his meat sticking into her flooded depths only dwarfed by his lustful, growly cacophony.
"I...I feel myself slipping. Meeeeeeep," the dragon squeaked, straining to hold back his release. His wing claws latched onto the ledge together with his forepaws, scratching at it audibly as scalding jets of precum lanced into Mariska's womb, forcing their way through her cervix thanks to the sheer pressure his cock already applied upon her quivering walls.
The patter of his hind paw talons, together with his growls of various depth and intensity, were the worst sounds Mariska ever had the displeasure of listening to. Tears streamed ceaselessly past her eyes, driven by hopelessness at first, then pain, and ultimately, pleasure. It was the latter that horrified Mariska the most. She wished to suffer, to bleed to death, to die, all so that her torment came to an end.
Instead, the only discomfort came from the light bumps of her head against the slick stone of the wall, while fiery elation surged through her lower belly. Those dull but numerous bumps scratched away her persistent itch better than she ever could. His tip rammed against her cervix with such hard, satisfying strokes Mariska moaned and whimpered every time it did. And his precum! Oh, his precum! Its warmth soothed her aching insides like medicinal balm, coaxing her walls to squeeze around his shaft if only to milk more of it.
To top it all off, her unruly, deviant side found this experience quite thrilling. No kobold could ever hope to breed her as hard as this dragon did. Her fingers failed to fill her to the brim, and the thought of a virgin dragon loosening his pent-up seed inside tickled Mariska's heat addled senses the right ways. She really was this dragon's first mate, wasn't she? His hips pumped his cock into her with mighty, undulating strokes, his now fully engorged knot slapping against her lips, begging for admittance into her depths.
"I can't....grrr...hold on any longer...."
Mariska's heart leaped straight into her throat at the sound of that, relief washing over her upon realizing that he would cum without knotting her. Why, that almost--
A reverberating roar echoed through the case, so loud it deafened Mariska temporarily. Her head slammed against the wall, stunning her from the might of the blow, preventing her from stopping the real threat.
The knot.
The dragon arched his hindquarters forward, pushing the twin bulges flanking his cock's base against Mariska's tight pussy with everything he had, until it finally plopped into her and plugged her pussy.
A blinding, electrifying jolt traversed Mariska's spine, followed by a wave of debilitating pleasure that paralyzed her body. She hung limp in his cock, all four limbs dangling awkwardly, tongue lolling at the side of her maw due to her continuous panting. Her soft moans melted into the dragon's shrilling cry that heralded his actual release. The throbs wracking his length ceased, his whole shaft turning harder than steel, knot engorging so wide Mariska orgasmed on the spot.
Her squirting juices mingled with the heavy, strenuous waves of molten seed the dragon ejaculated into her. With her cunt already filled to the brim by his cock, all that gooey essence slipped through her cervix to pool into her womb. Each hefty spurt added more to the load Mariska was forced to take in, prolonging her orgasm past any acceptable limit.
Mariska began gasping for air. Her chest hurt from the toll of her orgasm, and her trembling limbs felt weak and unresponsive. Just when she attempted to regain her breath, more seed gushed into her, tricking her heated, receptive tunnel into believing that a male came inside her a second time. Try as she might to regulate her breathing and prevent another exhausting orgasm from taxing her further, Mariska couldn't. The knot's presence made sure of that. By applying constant pressure upon her folds and engorged clit, those two vile swells trapped Mariska in a constant spiral of utmost bliss, occasionally climbing to peak points represented by orgasms.
She was so full of his cum. So exhausted. So numb. If only she could rest for just a moment...
As if to spite her, the dragon clambered off the ledge, humming in deep satisfaction. He limped to his furs, a forepaw slipped under Mariska to keep her from bobbing in unison with his still spurting member. Once he made it to his bed, the dragon flopped onto his side, bringing his neck around to lick the tears off Mariska's cheeks.
At that moment, Mariska felt like cursing the beast in every tongue she spoke, but his contented hum held her back, along with his serene, satisfied gaze. He wasn't a bad dragon. Just a sexually frustrated one.
***THE END***
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