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Draykan awakens with a cold sweat. His chest rises and falls as the memories of the dark times resurface. Though the dragon may be in the safety of a clean bed in civilized lands, that is little solace to him.

The door opens, shedding light into the darkness, reminding him that he is here, in the palatial temple devoted to all the spirits of love. And the figure who stands before him, clad only in simple draping fabric that covers her modesty simply because of how she stands, is unmistakable.

"Another nightmare, dear one?" the elven matron's voice says, her plump lips settling on a frown.

Draykan runs his hand through his forehead, swallowing spit to remove the lump caught in his throat. "Y... yes..., High Priestess. It was of the time before... before you took me in."

The priestess steps forward, her bare feet nearly silent as she makes her way towards him. Her form, so soft, thick, and delightful--a balm to his eyes.

"I don't mean to be a bother," the dragon responds. "It is something I must face alone. You can't possibly understand what it's like to be in my position."

"Oh, but I have seen many who have suffered who would pervert love's call," she says, sliding up to the bed next to him and wrapping her arms around his body.The gentleness of the gesture makes the flaring of his scars lessen..

"High Priestess..." he breaths, afraid to place his hand upon her.

"Tymara," she whispers back to him. "And if you need to remove this negative energy, know that is the gift I offer you. Just as all members of my family, from my great grandmother, down to my child, I am a servant of love, first and foremost.

"It isn't love I have to give," Draykan responds, his hands moving to her back, gently parting her covering fabric.

"I show my love by taking your pain," she returns, pressing her lips upon his cheek.

He nods and with that, he moves his hands down along her body, pulling her up as she tugs the sheets down from his chest. Soon, the priestess of love sits up on him. Twin penises, rise up into the air, ready for her. When she slips onto him, it is an easy fit that has been done many times before. Despite that, Tymara's welcoming holes embrace him like a lover both new and experienced, a boon of her elven physiology and her place among the church.

With a grunt, he enters her, pulling her up close to him, squishing her breasts to his chest in a tight embrace. "You... you take away my pain day in and day out..." he says as he rocks those hips, feeling her caress touch him and soothe him. "Yet, I've done nothing for you, High Pr- Tymara..."

"I would not burden you, love," the high priestess says, hands brushing down along his sides as she exhales her own sigh.

He rolls over, her back now upon the bed as he looms over her, hands tracing along her body, up to her shoulders, down along her arms, lacing through her fingers."I'm already burdened by my debt to you," he says, the intensity of his eyes burning into her amber ones. "There is something that troubles you. Please, tell me, not as the high priestess to a sick individual, but as a woman to a dragon."

Tears well up in the corner of Tymara's eyes as she spreads her lips, half to gasp out in the pleasure given to her by his twin penises, but also half in the dredging up of that sick and twisted tale. She closes her eyes, the tears rolling down her cheek as she nods quickly, and then looks at him, this time with more devotion. "Finish this first," she says.

"Very well," he says, grunting as he pushes hard against her, his cocks sliding deeper, kissing against her womb.

The High Priestess's cries fill the chamber as a prayer offered up to the gods of love, and soon, through the pent up frustrations and the years of abuse, Draykan releases into her, not as a feeling of shameful expulsion, but as an experience so euphoric, it is as if he had been liberated for the first time.

Basking in the afterglow, the dragon lays beside his lover, his fingers brushing through her hair as he asks her once more. "What is it that troubles you, High Priestess?"

"I grow worried about my family, Draykan," she responds. "And not the family of love I have sworn myself to, but my family of blood. There was a mistake that was made many lifetimes ago, yet I still bear the scars to this day. No amount of healing can take them away."

"And you've been holding this in this whole time?"

"It's a bit hypocritical, I know," she admits, "And yet, it is a duty I must hold as the High Priestess of love."

"They say that time heals all wounds," he says, "but I've known that they still scar."

"Yes, indeed, and there is something else... I fear as if the ones we have rescued you from, the horrible monsters that would seek to tame you through breaking you, body and spirit, may not be the only ones of their cause."

He sits up, his irises becoming tiny slits. "They live?"

"We found you because we have been seeking them, and that cell was but one of many. They are the antithesis of our order, those who have perverted love so far they have ritualized their lusts.

"Why are you telling me this?" He snarls, squeezing her tighter just from the mere thought of their existence.

"Because, Draykan," she says, her whispering rising up. "I fear they may have already come to our lands--into the elven enclave itself."