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"Y-You're hurting me!"

She was learning that to stubbornly complain was pointless. The grimacing snow leopard had done so a number of times since her enslavement had begun, all falling on purposefully deaf ears. Instead, and wishing to regain some measure of her former stoicism, Shyissa clenched her jaws and tried to block out the sensation of sharp, white-hot pain. The razor-sharp tips of compressing, finger-width claws digging into her sides made such stubborn pride difficult. Pinned in place on the ground and unable to wriggle free without causing herself further injury, there was nothing she could do but endure the discomfort. An amused-sounding hissing noise greeted her cry for mercy; clearly her master was enjoying watching her squirm beneath him.

Her master.

When had she begun thinking of the wyvern like that? Unable to clearly recall, the scantily-clad feline snorted in sardonic self-derision; the mental adjustment had taken place, just as she had been told it would by those who had handed her over into a period of legal bondage.

"OW!"

At the back of her neck, where her playfully predatory sire had just nipped at her, Shyissa could feel blood trickling down to bathe her pretty white fur with its scarlet hue. The painful bite would leave a mark, she knew, but it would hardly be the first evidence of her bondage to be left behind. Nor would it be the last. Her flesh was already marked with a number of scratches and cuts where her less-than-gentle master had previously dug his claws or teeth into her. At least I'm bonded to a lesser breed of dragon, she thought with a grudging acceptance of the truth. The stories of how roughly 'true' dragons treated their slaves did not make for pleasant tales. The best those whose lives now belonged to their kind could hope for is their master or mistress would be of the nobler chromatic kind--gold or silver--and not a cruel black or red dragon...

Shyissa's green-scaled master was considerably smaller than those titans of dragon-kind, but he was still big; standing half again as tall as she and considerably bulkier than her slender build. Wyverns did not possess true forelimbs as their larger kin did, instead there were rudimentary 'hands' on the narrowing front-ends of their wings. The other notable characteristics that set them apart from true dragons were their elongated serpentine bodies that could assume sleek, upright postures, and their spade-ended tails.

Clink.

The collar and attached chain, now familiar to her and both fashioned to resist the pressure of a playfully or lustfully aggressive winged reptile, fell onto the ground in front of her. Even with the relatively low cunning the lesser dragons possessed, Shyissa's master had cottoned on quickly enough to the advantages--and enjoyment--of having her collared and leashed. Of course, it was she that always needed to clamp the metal band around her throat and lock it in place, but to refuse would be unthinkable. She also had to--reluctantly--admit to feeling a kinky thrill, a secret enjoyment for the collaring that she still felt shy about admitting to. Even to herself.

The pinning pressure relented just enough to allow her to reach for the collar. The prone snow leopard's fingers stretched and curled, closing around the padded band of forged titanite. Only when she had pulled it all the way over to her did her lusty master rear up and allow her the physical freedom to place the collar around her throat and lock it in place. Her next duty was to hold up the chain and then hope that her master didn't bite her hand taking the offered leash from it.

"Nngh!"

It seemed her master was learning to be more gentle when it came to handling her leash. But only a little more. With a pleased screech, the leaf-toned reptile turned its head and pressed a clawed foot down on her lower back. In doing so, it pulled the chain taunt and forced Shyissa to rear up on spread handpaws. The constricting pressure around the front of her throat was less severe than it once had been, and in its place was that dark, unmentionable enjoyment of being collared and having her leash handled in such a fashion. It's fetishistic edge was sharper this time, cutting through her psyche to emerge and blossom into a true, submissive appreciation.

"O-Oh..."

Almost of its own volition, the thick tail that her breed of feline was known for lifted in a gesture of lewd invitation. Damp, sticky feminine folds and a puckered orifice now lay willingly open for her master to enjoy in any fashion that he wished to. A flush of hot embarrassment suffused Shyissa's cheeks; the shame of genuinely anticipating and responding to the arousal coaxed by her collaring was something she was not yet truly ready for. Her master though, was certainly ready to take advantage of and respond to the invitation.

"Hnnh...a-ah!"

Close to twelve inches of curved, ridged dragon-meat now sought to bury itself deep inside her. Shyissa let out a high-pitched squeal and dug her claws into the stony earth as the dark green-black shaft parted the lips of her sex and sank between them. Of course, she wouldn't be able to take it all...yet...but what she could filled her with a girth beyond anything she had previously felt. Without lubricant to ease its initial passage, there was a degree of pain to spice the all-consuming pleasure of the beastly mounting, but that would not last; already the leopard's inner walls and muscles were clenching around the wyvern's member and smearing it with her own lubricating juices. With each thrust, the passage deeper would become just that easier...and more pleasurable.

"Hah...nmph...ah...hah!"

Shyissa's eyes rolled back as the miasma of pain, pleasure, and submissive thrills blended together into a cocktail of intense, steamy stimulation. Her master, undulating his lower body to thrust his cock in and out of his slave's honeypot, screeched and hissed with his own sexual enjoyment. Shyissa would be at his beck and call whenever he wished her to be, and he would be free to slake those lusts upon her that might otherwise have been indulged indiscriminately. The animalistic cunning the winged beast possessed was insufficient to comprehend the contract offered by the intelligent hybrids of dragonkind to would-be victims that had led to her falling under his sway, but it was enough to understand that she belonged to him now. He would mate with her...dominate her...breed her. It was, after all, how those hybrids had come to be in the first place.

Soon his hot seed would rush into her womb and she would collapse, as she always did, panting and overcome by sexual exhilaration. What would come to mind, a little easier each subsequent mating, was one particular thought: perhaps it really wasn't all that bad being subservient and compliant to a wyvern's wishes...