FSE

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Arvill smelled the beast long before he spotted it. It was a strange scent to come across in winter, where ankle-deep snows made the forest air crisp and harsh. The smell of exposed root and rot a wood carried after a hard, flooding spring rain. The thirteen-year-old boy stood near the crest of a ravine, swathed in a heavy cloak and gloves for the cold. A hood pulled over his unkempt mop of curly dark hair.

Arvill was an animal scenting the air for predators, frozen as his brain tried to process that smell. He expected the forest past the ravine to be flooded, to be a salt marsh, but when he approached the source of the earthy scent, his brain had even more trouble making sense of what he saw. Down a thirty foot drop stood a creature on four legs, scaled with a long tail and horns. Its silver hide, much like the snow, glittered where sunlight broke through the trees across it. A wingless drake nearly ten feet long, shoulder coming just above Arvill's current height. The sleek horns at the rear of its skull extended in a long, graceful rack down the back of its neck. Its left horn chipped off in the middle.

The creature found the snare Arvill set yesterday in the morning, and whatever animal it caught. In the moment Arvill strangely thought, Well, at least I was right about that being a good spot.

The boy watched the beast feed, careful to not make a sound or disturb it. He wasn't too afraid of it; it surely couldn't climb the ravine so quickly that Arvill wouldn't be able flee back to where his father was. He couldn't spot the older, bearded man through the thicket of trees, but Arvill knew he was within shouting distance.

Arvill watched the tail of the beast twitch, and it lifted its muzzle and released a pleased chirr that made Arvill smile. It did not last. As if all it needed was to clear its muzzle of warm blood and animal gore, it froze with its snout in the air. Like Arvill had, it scented something out of place in this wood.

When the creature's head turned on him, Arvill gasped but didn't move. He was afraid running would bring it charging up to him. He, carefully, holding his breath, took a step back. The beast moved like a snake striking from brush. Arvill turned to run and managed five steps, forgetting to call for his father immediately. It might have made all the difference. Somehow the beast scaled the ravine like it had wings all along and that smell!--it swept in before a paw swept Arvill off balance. He fell into the snow, face-first, and was quickly pinned by the heavy weight of a paw on his back. He felt the prick of claws through his cloak; not that they were needed--the beast's paw was the size of Arvill's skull.

Weight pressed to the back of his head, a great breath that pulled his cloak up against what must be a snout. The beast's forepaw released him and pushed at his side.

Arvill was not dead, so he assumed it instead wanted Arvill to face it. Trembling, he did as the beast asked, scooting backwards some so he could look up at the beast's face. While Arvill did, he saw with a clear view that the creature was definitely a male, with a heavy set of balls and sheath beneath his rear legs. With the snow no longer in Arvill's face, the beast's scent hit him harder than stepping into a rank winter barn. It made him a little dizzy, but there was something warm and enticing, like a heady spice, something he only knew when traders from the west rolled into town.

The reptile's slitted, emerald eyes studied Arvill, who met his gaze too stunned to do anything but let his mouth hang open. There was blood still along the edge of the silver beast's muzzle. But in his eyes was... a warmth? He bowed his front and trilled loudly before pushing his muzzle into Arvill's chest. The boy gasped as he was nuzzled by a head the size of his ribcage, but he reluctantly set his hand on the beast's head. He stroked down to his neck and this seemed to get a purr from the creature before he licked Arvill. His long tongue went from the boy's sternum to his lips. The beast's breath smelled like his recent meal and Arvill nearly gagged, shuddering as that warm and wet appendage slid up his body.

It was disgusting, but a clear gesture of affection Arvill wanted to return. And strangely... he wanted to actually touch the creature. He slipped off his glove and rubbed under the beast's neck. Arvill didn't even notice his gentle smile blossoming as he rubbed the silver scales there, surprised how soft, warm, and pliable the fine flesh was until it formed into firm muscle at a press. The wingless drake was a marvelous beast and being this close to him stirred an unfamiliar warmth below Arvill's navel.

The beast was nuzzling his cheek affectionately, which Arvill returned with his eyes closed, so that when the creature's pained bark jolted Arvill from his reverie, the boy added his own yelp of surprise. The beast shoved Arvill down, and spun so quickly Arvill barely noticed the arrow sticking out from the creature's bleeding shoulder. He crouched and flagged his tail, growling at something, while a hoarse yell rang out.

"Get the fuck away from my son, monster!"

Arvill gasped. He so rarely heard his father curse, but the strange thought got crushed under the panic this creature would kill the man. His father was masterful with a bow, but a single arrow couldn't stop something this large, and worse, Arvill realized, the wingless drake was trying to protect him. That's why he put his body between Arvill and his father.

Arvill scrambled to his feet, bare hand flushed rust red from icy snow. He ran around a tree and in front the beast, calling out, "Wait dad! Don't kill it! It's friendly!"

"Get over here son!" His father, a wide bear of a man, had his bow knocked and drawn.

"No, stop, it's--_he's_safe," Arvill insisted, glancing behind him at his newfound friend. The creature had cocked his head and his tail had fallen a little.

"You don't know what you're talking about. That's a drag, son, now get. behind. me!" At yelling the last part, Arvill heard the drag snarl before he darted with that impossible speed. His father let an arrow fly and it caught the beast in his haunch right before he leaped down the ravine.

Arvill felt a strange rage flow through him even as his relieved parent swept his child in his embrace. Tears streamed down Arvill's face and his father kissed them away, whispering, "There, there, you're safe. It can't get you."

But they were tears of rage.

"In the east they got some fancy name for them--that's where they're from mind you--but here people just call them dragonhorses," Arvill's father explained. The two were trudging back through the forest to their farmstead, a dead hare slung over his father's shoulder. "I've never heard of one coming this far out."

"His horn was broken."

"They fight with their kind over territory, probably came here cause a bigger, meaner bastard drove it out here."

Arvill carefully walked in the path tread by his father's footsteps, the footing easier after the bigger man tramped the snow down. "I'm telling you, dad, he was safe."

"You might think that son, but wolves can be friendly too till their hungry. You said it just had a meal right? We were lucky or you could have been what it ate instead."

Arvill was glad his father couldn't see his pinched frown. He couldn't shake off the feeling the creature did not mean him any harm. The dragonhorse tried to protect him after all. It was so obvious in hindsight: the beast felt the sudden pain of being shot so he threw Arvill into the snow to hide the boy and wheel on what felt like their mutual attacker. Arvill mulled this over while he studied the width of his father's shoulders, fists clenched.

Since Arvill said nothing, his father told him, "You are forbidden from entering the forest till we drive that monster out."

"What?"

"I'm serious, if I catch your tracks in the snow I'll give you the beating of a lifetime, boy. You may be my only son, but I'll still leave you with a limp if it means keeping you out of that monster's clutches."

Arvill grit his teeth and for once spoke up against him. "I'm telling you it was harmless dad!"

With a speed that matched the dragonhorse from earlier, his father spun and backhanded his son in the face. Arvill was thrown into the snow by the blow. His father's voice was low and dangerous, "You know dragons boy? The kind you love to pester the minstrels about when they come into town? They have hoards of gems and gold, right? Well those monsters keep dens as well. And in theirs are the hoards of all the bones of what they kill. They are a blight on this land. That thing will eat all the game in the forest then start preying on our livestock and then us. It doesn't know how to do anything but eat and shit."

Angry tears clouded Arvill's vision. His split lip quivered, blood slipping to his chin, but he refused to cry.

"Say you will not go after this creature."

"I won't..." and at bristling glare from his father he flinched and added, "sir." He wanted to defy him, but his father was the best tracker in the area. He would rather be eaten by the beast than face his father's wrath. And he knew the beast wouldn't eat him, just as certainly as he knew his father might.

"You shouldn't have hit the boy, Borjis."

"You did not hear him, Kavatchka. He was going on about this creature like he does about knights and other nonsense," Arvill's father said. His parents sat by the embers of the hearth of their cabin, which was a structure with a single hall bisecting it so wind could pass through both doors during the summer. There was a main room, then the rooms of the children and their parents' room across from it.

Arvill stood with his door cracked, listening to his parents discuss late into the night the trouble with the dragonhorse stalking the woods.

His mother Kavatchka sighed, and Borjis, his father, answered her with, "He sooner believed that thing would let him ride around as his mount than have him for a snack."

"I understand your reasons, but do something for him afterwards? He needs to know not to fear his own father."

Borjis grunted. "I will see what I can do. I was thinking of taking him to meet Relan, I'm sure he would love to play around at the forge. He may even take to that work."

His mother asked about when one of their neighbors would arrive to discuss forming a hunting party, but her words became lost on Arvill when he was suddenly enticed by something. He smelt it through the coals and wood and peat of the cabin: that beast. At first it felt like a breath in his chest blossoming with heat, and then he recognized it was not some strange emotion, but the scent of the dragonhorse. He craned his neck to the back door of the cabin, and, in a half-trance, snuck to it while his parents continued talking beside the snapping coals.

He cracked the door outside and gasped. At the edge of the clearing of their cabin, twenty paces away and dazzling in the moonlight, was the beast. His silver hide was a rippling river as he wriggled at the sight of Arvill. The boy gaped at the half open door, unsure what to do. The beast had clearly followed them, clearly remembered him, and clearly wanted him to come outside. Even in the dark and distance, he could see those emerald eyes playful and alive.

The creature chirped, a sound barely louder than an owl's hoot. Arvill wanted to join him in a compulsion that reminded him of stepping towards a fire when cold. And in the doorway it was cold, and he remembered earlier today how warm and soft the dragonhorse's scales were...

The beast disrupted Arvill musings by sitting back on his haunches. His forepaw moved down between his legs and started stroking his sheath. Arvill blushed, the sharp addition to the dragonhorse's normally earthy scent returned as the boy watched the beast's equine cock spill from a sheath. Young as he was, he was no stranger to sex, masturbation, or animal anatomy--but this... Why did Arvill feel heat filling him against the cold? Why was he panting? Sweat on his brow? As that shaft rose to its full height across the dragonhorse's belly, why did he want to approach the source of that scent and savor the musk of a beast?

The boy whimpered, an entranced moth. He took a step, barefoot, into the snow.

The dragonhorse stopped suddenly. He returned to all fours and Arvill was instantly aware of how cold his foot was in the snow. He gasped and withdrew to the cabin while the dragonhorse snarled at something in the dark. The beast darted back into the wood as something scared him off. It became clear what soon enough: a horse was riding down the path to their cabin. Arvill heard the rider and knew it must have been their neighbor.

When back in his room, the boy leaned against the door panting. He felt an ache, and looking down, was surprised to find himself erect. He flushed in the dark and was thankful his sisters remained sound asleep in their bed. The scent of that creature burnt in the back of his throat. He had no explanation for what happened. One moment he noticed a strange creature at the edge of the clearing, the next he stood in the snow. What would have happened had the dragonhorse not been scared off?

Arvill shuddered. Perhaps his father was right. A strange beast presented itself to him and the fact he felt anything but revulsion was deeply unnerving. The boy curled into the edge of the wide, straw mattress he shared with his siblings, facing the door to his room as if on guard. He heard their neighbor enter from the other side of the cabin, and Arvill drifted off to the murmur of the adults' muted conversation. His dreams were languid eddies of strange, scaled monsters pursuing him in the dark. Yet, they were not nightmares; for when Arvill woke the next morning, he couldn't remember feeling more content.

"Apprentice, fetch the lord's blade, eh?"

Arvill quietly went into the shop while Relan, the town blacksmith, spoke to a knight on horseback. The shopfront typically stayed locked; they kept supplies in there but most people did their dealings with Relan outside at his forge. On a desk with several scattered metal objects--hinges, horseshoes, hooked scythes, nails--was a sword in a leather scabbard with filigreed silver at its point.

The knight, a Sir Fausdiv, had left it to be sharpened the night before. Arvill grabbed the weapon, finding its weight pleasing in his hand as he brought it back outside. The temperate air of late spring felt welcome as he handed the sword to the knight, his head bowed at the hooves of his mount. The nineteen year old felt the weapon lifted from his hands. Only then did he look up and watch the man strap the scabbard to a leather holster on his saddle.

"Not going to inspect the blade, my lord?" Relan said.

Sir Fausdiv, even on his horse, was clearly a tall, angular man with a jawline that seemed as hammered into shape as the fine plate armor he wore. He said, "Do I have reason not to trust your work, smithy?"

Relan shook his head. "No my lord."

Arvill glanced down the road at the knight's retainers. Two soldiers dressed in more practical armor seemed deeply bored, and a squire stood on the roadside at attention just behind them. Strangely, there was a tin mug balanced on his head.

"If I can trust you, then you can trust me and my men to handle your pest problem."

Relan bowed. "I wish you luck, my lord. Last time one of those beast came hereabouts it took a dozen men to drive it off. Even with enough arrows in it to make it look like a big old porcupine it kept trying to come back." Arvill remembered well: he had stayed boarded up in his cabin with his mother and siblings while the dragonhorse had to be driven away from their home four times before it finally stopped trying to sneak back to them.

"Well, me and my men are more formidable than some hunters and their bows. I wouldn't be surprised if you should see us returned tomorrow evening with the creature's head in tow."

"Looking forward to it, my lord."

Fausdiv nodded and glanced behind them. He laughed and said to his retainers, "Melore, Devant, quit hazing young Pavel and look sharp." He nudged his horse and the beast started walking down the bumpy dirt road out of town towards the thick, unruly forest that surrounded their village.

Arvill said when the party was out of earshot. "Think they can kill it?"

"They're warriors trained, boy. Even a thing like a drag can't match honest and honed steel."

Arvill said, watching the group recede around a bend, "I'm a bit envious of them."

"I wouldn't be, they'll be slopping through the mud for who knows how long."

"And they're sure it's another dragonhorse? Not some starving wolf that attacked those sheep?"

"Its tracks matched the ones they found six years ago." Relan looked at Arvill and the lithe, but firmly muscled blacksmith jabbed him in the ribs. "You've been on edge since word came into town about the beast."

Arvill stared at the wood. "You know what happened--how my father found me. I've seen those things up close, and..."

Relan shook his head. "You still think there's more to them. They're no smarter than a wolf or a bear. I'm certain Sir Fausdiv will set some clever trap and catch it exposed."

Arvill knew to keep his doubts to himself. It was not a fear of being attacked or the town overrun by a single animal that shook the young man's nerves. It was the dreams he still had from time to time; the cloying scent in the back of his throat that he still woke with. As far as he knew, he was the only one so affected by the beast. It made him feel... well crazy, but he was certain the sooner the creature was killed or driven off, the sooner Arvill could return to focusing on his apprenticeship to Relan.

Sir Fausdiv's party returned after only four days, strewn in mud and grim. Their lord did not return with them. The story told was that, while on watch so his retainers could sleep, the knight simply disappeared. He left a track of footprints that eventually stopped along with any sign of Sir Fausdiv. No sign of struggle. The wood simply swallowed him.

After desperately searching for a day and a night, Fausdiv's retainers opted to leave the knight's fate unknown. They needed to return to their holding and report to their lord, as well as see to the protection of the young squire who was of noble blood and too valuable a charge to risk losing after Fausdiv's disappearance.

It had been a week since Relan and Arvill saw the knight off, and the smith's apprentice had those nightmares returning every night since Fausdiv went missing. Dreams disturbed his sleep enough that Relan had taken notice and woke Arvill a few times now. It was on the seventh day of Fausdiv's disappearance that a search party was put together, made of local trackers and men from the reigning lord of the land. Arvill watched from over the forge as they passed into the wood. His father among them.

A hand clapped his shoulder. "You wish to go with them?"

Arvill merely nodded.

"Cheer up, boy," Relan told him, "Likely all they'll be bringing back are some plates of armor and gnawed bones. Nothing you need to see."

"You think Sir Fausdiv's dead?"

Relan shrugged. "He spent a week in those woods with no supplies or his retainers to take care of him. Knights don't grow up knowing how to live off the land--if the monster didn't get him exposure done did it at this point. Evenings can still get pretty cold this time of year."

"Mmm."

"Come inside, there's a delivery I want you to make this morning. Then we'll put you to work at the anvil for a bit."

Arvill took one last glance to spot his father moving among the group, then turned back to his work.

All told, deliveries tended to be mundane affairs. When Arvill started his apprenticeship two years ago, he spent much of his time traipsing up and down the countryside getting orders for everything from horseshoes to tongs to embalming tools and delivering them upon their completion. Arvill still did the traipsing, but it was also cheap work that could be given to any urchin, so more often than not they handled Relan's business while the young man worked at the forge with the blacksmith.

Arvill was coming down a steep slope south of the village, returning from his delivery. The overcast sky reflected his darkened mood, and for most of the week burgeoning rainclouds threatened to erase any trace of what happened to Sir Fausdiv. From his elevation over the plain where the village nestled near a river, he studied the trails of smoke and past them the thick woods that sprawled into the north till they became salt marshes along the coast. A salt marsh smelled much like that beast: earthy and musty. He wondered, when it had such a distinct smell, why no one else seemed to be using hounds to track the dragonhorse...

A bark nearly made Arvill trip and start rolling down the narrow mountain trail. He spun around, and two dozen paces uphill stood a silver drake. The same snapped left horn. The same eyes, the same gaze on Arvill--warm and full of life... His father had told him that during the hunt six years ago the dragonhorse's eyes held nothing but feral rage, nothing like what Arvill had seen--saw now.

His reaction felt knee jerk, full of alarm. He pointed and yelled, "You!"

Did the hunting party know the beast was in the hills? Was there more than one? Did the beast remember him? The trees gently bowed in the wind blowing uphill, which explained why only now did Arvill catch the barest hint of his scent again. A knot swelled in his throat. The dragonhorse chirped and began trotting down the hillside toward him as if they were old friends.

Arvill felt rooted to the spot as the silver creature casually wove through the trees. He took a step backwards and an aspen against his shoulders. Soon the dragonhorse was in front of him, and even full grown the young man was barely taller beast when it stood on all fours.

Like six years ago, he pushed his muzzle against Arvill, making him grunt. He tried to push the head away, but the dragonhorse was too insistent, and eventually opened his warm maw and licked Arvill. The man shuddered as a very long and slick tongue slid against his collarbone, up his throat, jaw, and finally a teasing whip at Arvill's earlobe. The beast purred in Arvill's ear. Panic and revulsion washed through Arvill's body and managed to snap him into thinking clearly again. He ducked out of the creature's grasp and backpedaled several steps, holding up his hands and saying, "I don't know what you're trying to get at beast, but if you are going to eat me then eat me. Otherwise leave me alone."

The dragonhorse had faced Arvill, and upon hearing him, shook his large head. Arvill's eyes widened--did it somehow understand him? The beast spun and flagged his long tail, exposing a clean, scaly pucker and the large, equine-sized cock and balls hanging between his legs. The sharp spice of the dragonhorse's musk made Arvill gasp. Heat flushed his face while his cock stirred. The creature reached a craning forepaw and fondled his sack. Arvill watched the dragonhorse's scaly balls lift and tumble in the paw, vaguely wondering how heavy they'd feel in his hands. He barely recognized his mouth hung open or his panting. The beast continued to purr, looking back at Arvill in obvious invitation.

What was Arvill doing? Why hadn't he fled yet? His body seemed unable to move away, but it was taking all his will not to take a step forward as well. He wanted to be closer to that scent, which only seemed to get stronger as the dragonhorse teased himself. The beast wasn't content to play alone while the human hesitated, however.

He wheeled back around and pawed toward Arvill, who could only shake his head no. When the dragonhorse stood before him, emerald eyes locked to his ashy blue that matched the clouds above, the creature pressed his brow to Arvill's. The young man almost fell over at the touch--a surge of something passed through him: sharp migraine-like pain followed by the buzz of too-much mead and a pleasant numbness. And knowledge: a den underground, a mile from here, senses of warmth and safety, a name...

"Fa-Faedresh?"

The creature chirped and echoed those two hard syllables the best his mouth could, approximating speech as a pet raven might. Then he sat back on his haunches. Faedresh exposed the throbbing shaft of an equine cock over a foot long, a pearl of pre cum already beading the tip of the dark flesh. Arvill moaned when he smelled it, his cock throbbing in response to the dragonhorse's exposure. Faedresh purred again, and Arvill felt a firm forepaw on his shoulder gently lead man towards beast. His entire body was trembling as he was pressed to the warm and fine scales of the silver drake's belly, that heated cockflesh throbbing against his tunic.

Why did his legs feel numb? Why couldn't he run? The scent of that cock right beneath him made him feel an aching need. He whined, fighting against a great urge to touch the dragonhorse's length and a greater discomfort the longer he went without touching it. The heat inside him felt almost painful, but he knew this was deeply wrong.

As if it were a bolt of lightning falling from the sky, someone further up the hill called Arvill's name.

Faedresh snarled and threw Arvill to the ground. The dragonhorse lunged down the hill into the cover of the trees. Arvill stared at the sky, gasping for breath as his head cleared. His heart raced as if the beast hadn't been seducing Arvill, but instead like he had been getting slowly flayed by Faedresh's--the beast's--claws. It doesn't have a name. Wild animals don't name themselves, Arvill thought, fighting the dread of what the creature related to him. The disgust that flooded his gut made Arvill wish he had been getting flayed. He wanted to deny what happened, but the dragonhorse's musk lingered. It left Arvill with a longing he couldn't erase, just try to ignore best he could.

He sat up and noticed a wet spot at the hem of his tunic. The smear of the dragonhorse's fluids. Arvill felt the temptation to try and taste it, to stroke himself while he did, but fortunately footsteps came down the trail. "There you are, Arvill. Figured you'd be farther along by now."

Arvill looked up the road and a few paces away was one of the daughters of the family he just visited. She had a basket in her hands and a frown on her round face. "What are you doing on the ground for?"

Arvill felt the truth, much like the dragonhorse's scent, burned in his throat, and so he swallowed it and said, "I just tripped is all."

"Oh, well, my father wanted to make sure this gift got back to Mr. Relan. It's just some baked goods. He can keep the basket, too, if he likes."

Arvill sighed and got up, being sure to keep his front from the woman's gaze. By the time he made it back to Relan's, it had finally started raining.

"When the last time you took a dip in the river? You stink boy," Relan said. The blacksmith sat a table overflowing with metal oddments and a pewter plate where he tore and ate from an oblong loaf of bread. Arvill leaned against the doorway to his room, a bit shaken as rain on the thatch roof filled the silence between them.

"Did you hear him last night?"

"Hear who?"

"Fae--the beast, the beast did you hear it?"

"You mean the dragonhorse?"

"Yes! What else?"

Relan grabbed the bread loaf and pointed it at him. "Don't you go taking that tone with me, boy. I didn't hear nothing but the rains last night. You probably having one of your nightmares."

Arvill shook his head. He barely remembered sleeping. He remembered claws picking at the timber walls between his room and outside, a soft chirping, a scent reaching for him...

"Relan... please... I saw it yesterday."

The blacksmith set down the bread and asked, "When?"

"Yesterday, when heading back from the delivery you sent me on. It caught me out in the hills."

"Caught you?"

"It... uh..." Arvill struggled with what to say. Relan was studying him like he did a flawed tool in need of repair. "I saw it and ran up a tree. It tried knocking me out but someone coming down the trail scared it off."

"And you didn't tell no one till now?"

"Relan..." Arvill's voice was a pained croak, "It was the same one from before, from six years ago. Same broken horn. I got shook up by it, okay?"

Relan stared at him a moment. The rain outside was busy washing the countryside of any trace of the dragonhorse. Eventually the blacksmith sighed and got up, saying as he crossed the room, "I hate to say it, but I don't think you should stay here for the time being."

"But--"

Relan grabbed him by the wrist and squeezed it, the firm strength of the blacksmith enough to make Arvill choke on his protests. "Until this mess is sorted out you should stay with your parents. You're no good to me here. I've heard you talking in your sleep for the last week, boy--and now you come to me with all this nonsense about the same beast in the morning after another restless night? All this trouble with a wild animal got your head mixed up. I mean, take that stench on you, what is that?"

Arvill wrenched his hand back. "Stench? Relan are you listening to anything I've been saying?"

The blacksmith's face darkened in the same way his father's had in the forest years ago. "Pack your bags boy, and for the love of god wash your face or something. I can't tell if you smell more like a brothel or dog that's been rolling in the mud."

Arvill blushed and took a step back in his room.

Relan said, "I'll be outside warming up the forge, by the time its hot I expect you to be on the road."

He shut the door in Arvill's face.

Arvill felt itchy all over, like he slept in a field infested with chiggers. He was idly scratching his neck as he stepped out into the rain. The early summer rains that came every year would last for days at a time, wavering and rising in intensity. Currently, the downpour was light enough that it was nothing more than a bother.

He listened to Relan--to a point. He did pack some food, threw on his traveling cloak, and took from the mantle an old sword Relan forged years ago. The blade was kept in a plain, unassuming scabbard, but was still sharp. He wasn't going to return to his parents, where his father would be so upset at being sent home he'd never stop to listen to his son.

This beast wanted Arvill for some reason, so Arvill was going to come to it. And if it tried something revolting like exposing itself again, all the better. Arvill planned to run its soft belly through. Then he'd be free from whatever hold the creature had on him, and perhaps if he recovered the body of Fausdiv and his things Arvill would be hailed a hero. Arvill only agreed to become Relan's apprentice so he might have a way out of the region, but dragonhorse slayer? The one who took revenge for Sir Fausdiv? That was a way for him to make a name for himself and move beyond this sleepy village.

Arvill worked from a strange sense memory. He grew up learning how to tell north and south, his father showing him the basics of travel and tracking, and all that knowledge was rooted naturally in his head. The way to Faedresh's den was rooted naturally in his mind now, too. It only took a few hours of travel through the wood. First, Arvill walked up the road till he knew Relan lost sight of him, then circled into the woods and cut a path to the dragonhorse's home. He soon found himself following a plodding path the beast no doubt took many times before. The brush, like snow, was stomped down and so walking in the beast's footsteps made it easier to move through the wood.

The rain actually helped mask the scent of the dragonhorse when Arvill reached the entrance the creature's burrow. There, beneath the roots of an overgrown tree, was the underground entrance to Faedresh's lair. The hole was wide enough for the dragonhorse to climb into easily, but its sides came up like an ant mound, and the entrance was on slope so that, even in a torrential downpour, the combination of the tree over the entrance and the hole's design and location kept water from flooding inside. Arvill knew the dragonhorse had many chambers within its lair, and that it was warm... cozy like the hearth of his parents' cabin and the scent...

The finger idly scratching his neck broke skin. The sharp pinch of pain broke Arvill from his disastrous train of thought, and he backed away from the entrance of the burrow. From his pack he retrieved an oil soaked rag, which he tied against his face. Arvill was no fool--he knew from past encounters the most dangerous thing about the beast was not his size or speed, but his smell.

He decided not to try and confront the creature in his home, but instead wanted to wait for the dragonhorse to appear. He settled on climbing into a pine that overlooked the burrow entrance. It would let him watch for the beast from all sides. The tree's limbs looked knotted and thick, climbable with a branch ten feet above the forest floor that seemed it would support Arvill's weight. Arvill felt confident, felt the beast would not expect a counter to his scent and that would be the man's opening. He managed to reach the branch he wished to sit atop of when his luck turned.

The rain was thorough. The bark was drenched and slick. Arvill slipped; his curse cut off when his back slammed into the ground, which gave way, and the young man fell another ten feet. He landed softly on brush and upturned soil. He gasped for breath through the pain, trying to recover his senses. He still only smelled the rag for now, the dark walls of the burrow seemed smoothly dug, he heard the rain and... the sound of something far different. Arvill listened, afraid to roll over. His skin prickled. It was two breaths, both labored, one much deeper and louder. And flesh, smacking together at a smooth rhythm.

He groped around for his sword, blushing. When he found the hilt of the blade, he clasped it in one hand while his other kept the rag pressed to his face. He rolled onto his knees with sword drawn. Even with some semblance of what it might be, he still was not prepared for what he saw:

The underground oval chamber was ten paces at its widest point and twenty paces long. Soft brush covered the floor, collected and strung together as a makeshift bedding. Light from strange, knotted growths of amber hanging off roots in the ceiling provided a soft glow to chamber. Each knot only as bright as a candle with dozens hanging above Arvill and the two other creatures in the room. One was the dragonhorse. The dim light left Faedresh's silver hide subdued while he lied on his side. His bright, emerald eyes clearly watched Arvill as the young man tried to make sense of the other creature in the room. It was a kobold--simple enough to deduce from stories. Roughly four feet tall, brass colored scales with a set of fins slipping back its--his--skull, with a sleek pair of horns much shorter than Faedresh's but just as finely carved. The kobold's clawed hands were planted on Faedresh's silver haunch while the smaller creature fucked the dragonhorse's asshole. The rim of the beast was puffy from stimulation by the kobold's long, draconic endowment. The cock was tapered, with a set of ridges on the underside of its shaft and a bulbous knot that slapped against the beast's swollen entrance. The balls beneath the kobold were a little larger than its knot. Its cock was twice as big as Arvill's.

Arvill wanted to wretch. Faedresh's purr filled out the chamber like the sound of rain outside, his tongue hanging out his muzzle slightly. He lifted his rear leg like a curtain. The dragonhorse's long, equine cock hung across his silver belly like the stroke of a brush. It moved gently with each thrust from the kobold while pre leaked freely from its tip. The wide head of the shaft was flared already, and the balls of the beast were pulled tight to his body.

But there it was, the soft belly exposed for Arvill to run through.

The young man found he dropped his sword. His body quaked. Sweat broke out all over his skin--the clothes on his back felt torturous to wear and the rag on his face felt slimy and noxious. And why did the rag matter? As soon as Faedresh lifted his leg that musk began to overpower Arvill's feeble defense. The smell of that spice and earthiness, the enticing salt. He remembered wanting to taste it, and, without realizing what happened, he licked his lips at the same time Faedresh did, the dragonhorse's gaze never leaving his.

No... no no no no no--Arvill was not going to submit to the whims of a beast. He grabbed his sword and managed to push himself up to his feet. The panting kobold still seemed oblivious and content on rutting Faedresh's scaly pucker. Arvill wanted to pounce and plunge his blade into the dragonhorse, but those emerald eyes wouldn't let him. That musk wouldn't let him. The more he tried to will it, the more it felt like he was contemplating killing his own kin.

Then, with a loud groan, the kobold pressed his brow to Faedresh's raised leg and popped his knot inside his draconic kin. The balls of that kobold began to squeeze and churn, and Faedresh released a pleased trill before the urethra on his flared cock yawned. Thick gouts of seed spilled across the dragonhorse's hide. Streams of spunk filled the chamber with a heated scent of the dragonhorse, only now its cum added a heady mixture to that spice. Like the spring bloom of a grove of Bradford Pear trees with the depth of salt and masculine heat and a reptilian, earthy musk. The scent made Arvill moan weakly, light and bird-like before he fell to his knees as Faedresh's cock kept cumming and cumming. Arvill only then noticed how hard his own cock had gotten. How warmth seemed to flush through his crotch and the need to touch himself felt more dire than killing the dragonhorse ever had.

The enticing musk was too much. He_needed_ more of it, and without thinking Arvill threw away the measly rag. The reaction to his body was immediate. With nothing blocking the smell, he started seeding his trousers without even the need to touch himself. He whimpered and his face fell into the soft cave bedding, which smelled gently of cedar and the couplings of those two draconic beasts. He wanted to bathe in it. Its smell seemed to wash over his palette, down his throat. He tasted the air--the draconic seed. A vague thought:I've never been able to taste the air like this before.

He looked up, face red and panting as both creatures in the chamber now watched him. The kobold had pulled out of Faedresh and stood slowly stroking his messy, still-hard cock. It was nine inches in length, almost a fourth his height, and the throbbing tip still leaked some strands of spunk. Before he knew it, Arvill's hand was reaching out for it, even though the cock was across the room. His skin now felt like it was peeling from sunburn, and on his outstretched hand he saw skin had flaked off. Only the size of the head of a nail, but there: rust colored scales.

Arvill tried to scream, but it came out a muddled groan as he pulled his hand back. He rubbed the spot with his thumb and more skin fell away. The scales beneath were soft, supple--satisfying to touch, and unlike his skin it didn't feel like ants chewed it. Faedresh rose, his cock slapping his belly as he padded to Arvill. He nuzzled Arvill's cheek. The young man gasped at the touch--the touch of scale made his still erect dick throb with an urgent need to be free of its confines. At the same time, the dragonhorse communicated to him again: warmth, safety... belonging--home. Faedresh's home, Arvill's home now, and the kobold in the room. A sudden insight as telling as the armor bundled up and hidden against the opposite wall till Faedresh moved. Sir Fausdiv's armor. Arvill met the hazel eyes of the kobold and whispered, "Sir Fausdiv?"

The kobold's feral grin broke into a cackle. The kobold said, "Faus!" His voice was higher than the knight's, but Arvill was certain. This is what had claimed the knight, and now Faedresh wanted to claim Arvill the same way. Had wanted to claim Arvill since he was a boy.

Why did that realization fill him with a blossoming, warmth through his chest? A river thawing inside him as he flooded with feelings he normally saved for crushes and heated first-kisses? He belonged to Faedresh. Faedresh didn't forget about him... Hell, Faedresh came back for Arvill even though last time the dragonhorse was nearly killed. And now Arvill sat in the dragonhorse's den with Fausdiv--no, Faus now... and he was Vill... no Arvill, only Vill... he was...

"No..." Arvill pushed himself to his feet--revolting against the desire to submit. It was a warm bath, all he needed was to slip in...

He shoved Faedresh's head away, more pushing his own body backwards, feeling a strange tight pain in his chest for rejecting his mate--the beast. He struggled to stay on his feet, cupping his hand to his nose though it did him no good. The only way out of this chamber was climbing out the hole he came through (impossible in his weak state) or walking past the two friends/mates/creatures/monsters standing between him and whatever chamber lied beyond this one.

Both faced Arvill. His eyes darted from Faedresh, to Faus, to Faus' still dripping dick. Faus took a step to him, and Arvill bit his bottom lip in obvious, pained need. The scent of draconic musk was so strong... his body needed it more--more than the simple scent filling his lungs and clouding his mind. More than the taste of it in the air. A taste--he needed...

Vill found himself on his knees before Faus. The kobold pumped his dick a few times while Vill panted over the tip. He never once looked at another male's endowment like he did Faus'. He didn't understand why--soon as Faedresh first presented himself, Vill should have run out to meet his mate. When his hand touched the shaft, he found more skin shed, scales wrapping up his thumb, which held the warm length of throbbing, draconic cock. The dick was slick with cum and his hand worked down the shaft with ease, till his fingers could no longer close around its girth. The knot, still there though less swollen now, must have been thick as Vill's fist. Faus made a pleased grunt and humped Vill's hand, his slim, scaly digits reaching for Vill's head.

Arvill felt, as claws caressed his scalp, that he was about to make a descent for which no return would come, but the young man could hardly care. His fledgling panic carried like a leaf in the rapids of this heated need coursing through his body. His cock still ached and longed to be touched, but there would be time for that, first he needed to descend first he needed to--

The kobold cock tasted salt and bitter spice that Vill found pleasing. It left a gentle buzz in his head, all other thought fading away but the remnant smear of cum and the earthier notes of Faedresh's inner walls underneath it. Vill whimpered, but Faus held his head still when he tried to wrap that tip between his lips. The young man's tongue craned from his mouth to taste the kobold's cock, lapping at the tip. Faus purred, enjoying Vill's obvious desperation for the kobold's shaft. A sort of act that would have reviled Arvill seemed a torturous teasing to Vill. "Please... p-plea..." the begging from Vill's mouth tumbled to guttural whines and moans. Faedresh intervened on Vill's behalf, knocking his muzzle against Faus' shoulder and fixing the kobold with a disapproving glare.

Faus let go and his shaft filled Vill's mouth so quickly he nearly gagged when it reached his throat. Faus hissed while Vill shuddered and sucked. The savory taste of that kobold cock fulfilled needs he only just developed. He _needed_to submit to these two, submit to these changes. It was right. He belonged here, changing hands squeezed the kobold's muscular thighs while he bobbed his head. The cock in his mouth spilled strings of pre which Vill would suck and swill in his mouth to savor the taste. He swallowed only when he had to.

Sharp claws sunk into Vill's back. The young man barely noticed, knew nothing was wrong. Faedresh began to shred the clothes from his body. With a precision that belied the dragonhorse's care for his new mate, Vill felt claws push through his clothes but nothing broke skin. Cloth and leather, cut from his body, began to slip off his shoulders. His bare back had patches of skin already flaking off. As if to encourage this further, Faedresh began to lick his mate like he was cleaning him, only his tongue peeled back forgotten flesh in favor of rust colored scales. Faus, meanwhile, sunk his cock into Vill's throat. The sudden swallow and gag making the young man struggle against the kobold's thighs.

It was like coming up for air after being submerged for a long time. Arvill felt his consciousness return to him, his revulsion flooded with a wave of panic as he found his strength and shoved himself away from Faus. He coughed, but quickly held his breath, feeling the buzz waft back before he cut it off. His lungs burned and his skin felt itchy again, except where Faedresh bared scales to air.

Arvill stumbled backwards out of the heap of ruined clothes, even his boots mangled. Could he even flee or return to the village like this? Naked with patches of scales on him like dappled horsehide? It didn't seem to matter--for the first time Faedresh snarled at Arvill. The dragonhorse lunged behind him before Arvill felt a large forepaw on his shoulder pull him down into the soft floor. He saw, for a moment, Faedresh blocking out most of the ceiling of the chamber. Then the silver drake dropped his back half onto Arvill's face. Arvill struggled, kicked, hands pushed and punched the dragonhorse's unflappable hide. It didn't matter, even as his head started to hurt from the lack of breath, there was no escape. If he passed out his body would betray him and start taking in that musk again anyways, better to take a breath and try to keep fighting.

That first breath was loud and long, and mostly through Vill's mouth, in part because the weight of Faedresh's balls on his nose made it difficult to breathe through them. But once he realized it was that scaly, musky sack he smelled, Vill murred. His relaxed and caught his breath, reaching up and fondling the sack smothering him. Each weighty nut rolled in his palms as he licked the finely scaled scrotum, finding it a bit oily, yet incredibly masculine in scent and taste. His now-exposed cock spilled a line of pre across his belly as he sucked and licked. His mate's balls were so hot and large, they _deserved_to be worshipped.

As the changing human cooed and worked on pleasing Faedresh, a pair of thin, scaly hands closed on his thighs. They pushed Vill's legs up, exposing his ass to the air. Two pleased growls at Vill's submission were met with the young man's happy gasp when something wet teased his entrance. A probing tongue. A thin snout pressed to his taint taking a deep breath. And Vill's legs quaked while the tongue slid down his taint and slithered across his entrance. The human's bottom half squirmed as his pucker squeezed and worked to try and get that tongue inside him. Eventually, with a pleased murr, Faus obliged him. His muzzle sank to Vill's rim and kissed it, his scaly lips opening and his muscle invading Vill's ass.

He never had anything like that before. A shame. Why had he not?

Vill's back arched and his cock felt close to cumming again as that muscled appendage worked inside him. Faus had opted to lying on the soft floor, hands splayed on the back of Vill's now nearly entirely scaly thighs while he worked that fleshy pucker. Meanwhile the dragonhorse above Vill began to hump his heavy balls across the human's face. Reminded of his current task, Vill moaned sweetly and sucked on the flesh again. His lips pulled against scrotum. Where the taste of scaly musk began to get washed away, Vill would lick and kiss elsewhere, cherishing his mate's taste and smell. That heady musk now had Vill's whole body humming with pleasure. The work Faus was doing to his untried entrance was merely a small bonus compared to the joy of worshipping one of the sources of his larger mate's scaly musk.

Only Vill snarled in frustration when Faedresh lifted his rear and trilled at Faus, who also pulled his tongue out from Vill. The half-changed human sat up and looked at them both--with words Vill might have once had being replaced by a hurt whimper. He did not understand why they stopped, or why Faus trotted out of the chamber into the adjacent one. Faedresh emerald eyes still watched Vill with a loving warmth that made the hybrid get up and step to the dragonhorse's side. Faedresh nuzzled his mate, and both purred as they returned affection. Vill made to kiss the dragonhorse on the snout, but was surprised when Faedresh opened his jaws at the same time and pushed his tongue into Vill's mouth.

The muscle was far too thick and long to be used in a regular kiss, but the way it overwhelmed Vill's mouth made the hybrid blush where scales had not replaced skin on his face. Vill sucked on the tongue before it invaded Vill's throat, which made a small growth on Vill's tailbone wag. The hybrid grabbed Faedresh's silver muzzle and tried his best to suck and swallow. It only lasted a few seconds before the tongue withdrew, leaving Vill a little breathless and stunned while the dragonhorse nuzzled his mate. Faedresh made a please chirp and before Vill could return more affection they both heard something being set down next to them.

It was a log that Faus had carried into the room. Lying on its side, it was over a foot thick, and overtop of it Faus laid a thick wool blanket the two must have stolen. Draconic cum stained the blanket.

The intent of the log became clear, and when Faedresh nudged Vill toward it, the hybrid knew to get on his knees and lie across it. Faedresh followed, and Vill's heart-rate picked up in anticipation. Two firm forepaws were in front Vill, he under his mate. The warmth of that draconic hide reminded him of what this place was supposed to be: safety, belonging, home--Vill's home right here beneath one mate while the other led Faedresh's equine cock to the hybrid's entrance.

Vill knew he needed to relax, but it was hard when this union seemed to be what he waited his whole life for. That fat, head pushed against his rim, the cock bowing a little while his entrance caved inward. The pressure on his rear got great enough that Vill worried it just wouldn't go in. Then it did. His rim spread tight around that equine intruder and over him Faedresh gave a satisfied hiss before pushing inward some more.

Arvill never in his life had anything in his ass before today. And that sudden opening of his entrance couldn't not hurt. The pain brought him back. The man groaned and kicked back to get away but the log was in the way. He struggled with panic, seeing his fingers had grown thinner, that claws tipped the rust-covered digits. Most of his flesh had sloughed off in favor of scales. But pain, a burning fullness in his ass filleted the fog from his mind. Both creatures noticed his struggling. Faedresh's forepaw stamped into the ground, claws scratching at the floor while he humped further into Arvill. The man tried to get up, but Faus was in front of him and pushing Arvill down by the shoulders. The kobold's strength surprised the man, and the musk of the room left him too weak to fight Faus off.

The kobold knelt in front of him, cooing softly while he wrapped a tail around one of Faedresh's forelegs to calm the dragonhorse as well. He nuzzled Arvill's cheek and the affection stirred a strange warmth in the man. He felt the kobold's care for him, even as the creature gently, firmly held him down while Faedresh pushed more and more flesh into Arvill's unwilling entrance. Arvill felt tears spring to his eyes. He met Faus' soft gaze and whispered, "P-please..." The words slipped out, but Arvill wasn't sure what he was begging for. A release from his captors? A deepening of his torment, this pleasure? This sense of warmth that was smoothing out from his core? Faus squeezed Arvill's hand and lifted it to his muzzle for a brief kiss. Brass and rust scales twined together. It shocked Arvill to see, his hand in Faus', that they were now the same size and shape. His fingers slim, fine, more dexterous looking, and delicate? Pretty? He met the gaze of Faus over their held hands and found it smoldering. It made Arvill's heart flutter, in a way no girl ever made it in his past life.

Past life... that's right. This was what his life should be. Adored and pleasured by his two mates, no concern for the petty affairs of humans. No constant pain and torment for trying to be something he just wasn't. Here between his mates was where he was always meant to be.

Faedresh's fat cockhead ground against his prostate and Vill moaned sweetly. The pain receded like floodwaters and exposed in its place raw pleasure. Faus cupped the back of Vill's head, rubbing his now hairless, rust skull, which was slowly changing shape. The brass kobold massaged the protruding nub of a horn and licked the growth as his ear became a frill similar to the other kobold's. Vill licked his mate back, finding his tongue long and sinuous. The taste of scale and musky draconic cum still hung in the air. Faus trilled, then shoved the head of his panting mate down and Vill's growing snout bumped the tip of Faus' tapered cock. New oily secretions covered that enticing red length.

The dragonhorse above them both clawed at the floor and huffed. He fit his medial ring around the hybrid's abused rim, and began to gently work the ring in and out of Vill. It made the growing tail above the cock wriggle against the dragonhorse's belly. That long, equine shaft spilled enough pre into Vill that by now he felt that warmth collected in his core, and it made the passage in his ass easy as his walls strove to milk the endowment of his mate who so badly wanted to breed him. Vill pushed back against that grinding cock as its torturous descent filled the rust-colored kobold with a need he never felt before.

Faus meanwhile held his changing mate's head to his cock by the spurs of bone growing from his scalp. The ridges of his musky cock bumped tantalizing along Vill's forming muzzle and pre spilled along his scales. Vill's blue eyes (the only thing at this point kept from his previous form) watched Faus with furrowed need. His tongue flicked out against the base of Faus' cock and occasionally stroked his scaly balls, but the kobold wouldn't let Vill enjoy it. The rust kobold whined, but Faedresh was too occupied to keep Faus from teasing him this time. The dragonhorse was busy getting his shaft completely enclosed around the yielding warmth of his new mate. The new loving addition to his hoard.

Eventually, with a hissing snicker, Faus tipped his cock to Vill's now fully formed muzzle. Rust jaws opened and a long lizard-like tongue wrapped around the tapered flesh of Faus' prick before tugging it into those soft, scaled lips. Faus hissed and doubled over Vill, the kobold humping his cock straight into Vill's throat. Rust muzzle met the brass scales of Faus' balls. The brass kobold shuddered and the tapered tip in Vill's throat squirted a fresh shot of pre. He began to purr, which added the gentle ministrations of vibrations to Vill's sucking. Faus' tail lashed at the bedding before he started fucking Vill's muzzle. When he sawed out those scaled lips, spit and pre fell out with the cockflesh and spilled messily between the two.

Faedresh was close to bottoming out in his mate. Vill felt it, too, a tension beneath his navel as the equine cock in him felt flared and ready to set off at a moment's notice. Vill's new tail squirmed while Faus ran his hands along it, admiring the fine scales and keeping it flagged as the dragonhorse pulled back and ploughed inward. Faus watched glistening horse cock cave in Vill's abused tailhole. It made Faus a little jealous, feeling a familiar itch at his own rim as he wished that were him receiving it. He shuddered and felt his knot smack Vill's lips. He, too, was very close.

But Vill--the sweet little kobold--didn't even realize his own orgasm's approach until it hit. The kobold's eyes went wide and as they did the blue expanded and his pupils turned to slits. The last of his humanity fell away and the kobold came between his partners, his new, nine inch draconic cock--a twin to Faus'--spilled a flood of cum onto the blanket and floor. His body thrashed, and his walls clamped down as Faedresh bucked forward and managed to hilt his mate. The dragonhorse roared over them and the kobold felt his belly flush with cum. The warm essence of his mate so much it filled the little kobold in seconds and began to run down his backside in a matter of moments. But the feeling of warm, thick rivers of seed spilling down his thighs was forgotten soon as Faus smacked Vill's mouth with his knot. Even in bliss, the new kobold knew to slip his tongue behind that knot and start to milk it, the gesture all Faus needed before the cock buried in his throat fired virile kobold cum into his belly.

Vill's whole body hummed and buzzed. His tail tried to wag like a dog's against Faedresh's now descended belly. He moaned happily with the changes totally taken over. He loved the cocks of his mates. Their smell, the feeling of their cum filling him from both ends, the delicious taste. Faus withdrew until it was just the tip and kobold seed soon filled Vill's muzzle. His tongue wrapped around the tip and he tried to hold it all in his mouth, without swallowing, but Faus' balls just kept churning and soon cum spilled from Vill's lips. Faus pulled out with a sigh and stroked himself off, thick layers of cum firing in strings across Vill's now draconic face.

Faedresh pulled out as well, and the sudden lack in Vill almost made him cry out until the dragonhorse started to grind his cock against Vill's back. Faedresh's musky spunk spilled across Vill and the kobold trilled as he realized his mates were coating his newly anointed scales in their scent. The musky smell of draconic seed delighted the new kobold, and the cum in his mouth was so thick he had trouble swallowing it all at once. But the way warm cum flowed down his throat--the way his partners marked him so the draconic musk would be carried wherever he went--the way his cock kept hard even after his own cum flow slowed...

Vill was without a doubt home.

The new cum covered kobold's transformation overwhelmed him so much he didn't notice Faedresh had returned to the side of the den where Vill first found him and Faus. It was at a trill and Faus' urgings that Vill noticed the dragonhorse sat up against the wall, ass facing the kobold, the tip of the dragonhorse's tail teasing the beast's loose entrance. An enticing bead of Faus' cum nestled at the pucker and Vill eagerly crossed the room to it. He knelt by his mate's entrance, burying his snout against the dragonhorse's swollen rim. He took a deep breath of the earthy musk there, and chirped and kissed the lips of Faedresh's entrance before testing the reach of his new tongue.

The dragonhorse's walls yielded with ease, and Vill found the ecstatic taste Faus' cum mixed with the rich earthiness of the dragonhorse's walls. Vill lapped salty seed into his mouth, his tongue swishing around the warm, inner flesh of his mate, while that rich scent made his cock drip on the dragonhorse's tail. Faus, not to be left out, had ducked under Vill's tail. His draconic lips kissed Vill's still-gaping entrance before the rust colored kobold stiffened up at a new intrusion. He relaxed into it, letting the slutty brass kobold felch him while he worked the same on Faedresh's ass.

The silver-scaled drake stretched his legs and chirred. His tail curled around to flick Vill's cock, which caught the eager kobold's attention enough to look up into the dragonhorse's lusty gaze. The dragonhorse grunted and brushed Vill's tapered tip again, making his intent clear. Vill was a little taken aback. Faedresh was practically their master, but he was going to be generous enough to let Vill mount him already?

The kobold murred and clambered across Faedresh's tail, straddling it as Faus growled in complaint at the loss of his meal. It didn't matter, because soon Vill was sliding the ridges of his draconic prick against Faedresh's puffed up entrance. Even the feeling of his cock slipping against smooth scale and flesh was exquisite. Vill bet he could cum just by furiously humping Faedresh's hide until seed spilled across it. But that's not what Faedresh wanted or needed. He spread the dragonhorse's entrance with two fingers. The red warmth of his interior looked smooth and wet. The kobold's knotted cock spurted pre hard enough to spill a line across Faedresh's balls.

He moaned when he pushed inside his mate. The feeling of those fleshy walls closing around his nine inch endowment a balm that made his balls already feel tight. Faedresh's interior made his cock ache, and the kobold huffed while Faedresh murred. The dragonhorse watched his mate plant his hands on the silver hide, the scales sinking a little before firm muscle held the kobold up. He loved the touch and warmth of those silver scales that changed him.

Vill felt the firm chest of another press against his upper back, hand tugging tail up, and tapered cock invading the rust kobold. He squealed as Faus' hands wrapped around his hips and pulled him backwards onto the other kobold's cock. Trapped between these two again--home between these two again. Vill ground his hips back against the waist of Faus, pulling his cock from Faedresh's asshole before the kobold thrust back in. Faus tugged back a little to let his cock almost withdraw completely at the forward thrust.

The three mates soon fell into a rhythm. Faedresh lied against the wall, panting and groaning while Vill furiously worked his tailhole. The dragonhorse's tongue hung freely from his mouth, and he occasionally flexed his abdominal muscles to slap his equine cock wetly against his belly. Otherwise he worked on milking his new mate--his first mate. Vill the one he picked so long ago, nearly died for, and came back for. Faus just happened to smell right, like Vill had. The knight was unexpected, but the dragonhorse knew from first scent who his mates were, even with their human stink. And these two were meant for him. And now both worked at his tail, trying their best to please the dragonhorse and each other.

Every sound Vill made was cut off when he felt a knot slap against the entrance of his asshole. The kobold's shapely, scaly butt abused by his eager partner who wanted to knot Vill. That bulb was big as Faedresh's flare, only the flare had started inside Vill. But the rust kobold wanted the brass' knot almost as bad as he wanted his knot sealing Faedresh's hot entrance. The dragonhorse's sexy pucker still tantalizing to watch swallow the draconic ridges of his cock, each one causing the scaly flesh to sag inward before those velvet walls surrounded them.

It was Faus who got Vill to knot Faedresh. Vill slammed into the dragonhorse, and that rim, yielding, did not quite go in until the brass kobold's hips hammered his. When the knot did push in, Faedresh moaned, a call of pleasure that Faus wanted to drag out for both lovers. The brass kobold shoved Vill down against Faedresh and suddenly the kobold's muzzle was pressed to the oily base of Faedresh's equine cock. Vill took one huffing scent of the musk at his sheath and came. The kobold cried out, tears in his eyes as his cock started to flood the dragonhorse.

Faus did not relent, furiously fucking his smaller mate into the larger one. The force of which made Vill's knot tug back and forth deliciously against Faedresh's abused ring of muscle. The stimulation of that with his lover's cum made the dragonhorse's cock flare again. Vill felt the large equine balls against his collarbone start to clench together while Faus fucked him. The kobold's tongue hung limply against Faedresh cock, face planted beside it by a firm brass hand pressing down on his back.

The kobold topping him started to get more frantic with his thrusts. Vill felt his entrance spread more and more around that fat bulb of draconic flesh. He tried his best not to clamp down but every time that dick entered him those draconic ridges bubbled against his prostate and made the hapless kobold clench more. He was seeding Faedresh with more cum than actual stallions could produce. Vill's cock was warm and slimy with seed as it pushed against the knot sealing all that spunk within the dragonhorse.

Faus' furious fucking of Vill finally set Faedresh off. A combination of that knot working his entrance, the ridges of Vill's jerking cock massaging his prostate, and the kobold's face being rubbed into his dick by Faus' thrusting all threw Faedresh over the edge. The dragonhorse came with a roar and his whole body shuddered as seed shot up to his throat. This time though, Vill watched Faedresh crane his neck down and the dragonhorse's long tongue wrapped around the tip of his cock, squeezing and teasing more draconic seed across the appendage and coating Faedresh's muzzle. The drake didn't pull his dick into his mouth, instead preferring to cover his own muzzle in the heady scent of his musky seed before it dripped down across the dragonhorse and onto the still cum covered Vill and cum smeared Faus.

The sight of Faedresh's powerful orgasm distracted Vill long enough for Faus to push through the kobold's barriers and knot his asshole. Faus fell over his rust scaled mate, crying out weakly as his cock started to flood Vill's core. Millions of heated sperm sought a place to root in the kobold's belly without luck. The voluminous amount of seed made Vill whimper as his trim waist started to grow heavy. Unlike Faedresh, Faus' knot kept the cum from pouring out the kobold. And the pleasant warmth filling Vill's belly soon felt tight as kobold cum made his stomach swell against the silver hide of his other lover. Both kobolds kept panting and leaking, their balls churning while Vill felt the rhythmic clench of Faedresh's beneath him.

Eventually their orgasms faded, and the two kobolds lied knotted together to their mate and master. The dragonhorse watched them lovingly, a feral warmth tinged with lust as the two tired kobolds began to drift off against Faedresh's warm scales. They both felt Faedresh's purr as they sank into a satisfied sleep.

Outside the rain had stilled and night was coming on. In the coming days humans might come searching for Vill, but they would never find him. And Vill would never want to leave. His dreams were still of scaly creatures but no longer in chase, but embracing, kissing, joining as they called him towards them.

The rust colored kobold trilled gently in his sleep and nuzzled into Faedresh's silver hide. The dragonhorse reached down and licked his cheek, happy the kobold found what he needed.