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Red shifted uneasily where she stood, a literal trophy wife of the king of the land. Her red scales glistened in the magical lights of the hall, shining and oiled to a beautiful polish for all the world to see. And, much to her chagrin, much of the world did see. Or, at least, the leaders of it, seated as they were around the table nearby as the king held his court. Her belly swelled with his child. While a sigh escaped her lips, her mind drifting to the years gone past.

Red was an adventurer for years, using her natural skills of pyromancy in tangent with the skills she picked up on the road. Namely, her sticky, nimble fingers that could pick a lock or toss a dagger as well as they could lift some coin or disarm a trap. She was a loner by choice, but had gone on many an adventure with parties or with crews, plundering tombs, pillaging banks and nobles, and burning any monsters that had gotten in her way. It had taken her years to build up her skills, honing her ability to conjure and throw fire, gaining pure control over it, and unleashing that heat on her enemies. Her red scales would flare, her hoof-like clawed feet sinking into the stone and her red eyes glittering in the heat of her power, reveling in her own inner strength.

Now her scales glittered for a different reason, the lighter reds and deep ruby patches than ran over her wings shining like the gems she'd stolen so many of. True, her life was much easier now, and her clothing much more fine, a little bit of heft being added to her frame beneath the fine silks and golden chains and bangles that gilded her form. Her breasts swelled behind a thin piece of fabric, the gentle silk teasing her perked nipples. Her black hair waved gently, soft and silky and flowing like it never had before, taken care of and brushed to perfection, then braided with jewels and rings and bangles that made her shine in the light. The tip of her draconic tail was treated much the same, making her the prize jewel of King Kalabi's throne room.

For how much he pampered her and cared for her, it was clear she was little more than a statue, a trophy meant to show off his power and virility. Her heavy womb was on full display, the silks strategically placed around it, the gems glistening and catching the light to shine it back on those well-oiled, taut scales. Even the muzzle over her face was gilded, as were the manacles on her arms and wings, keeping her no more than a few steps from the throne. Her hands were behind her back, showing off her chest and stomach, her wings draped in silks and gold, her body made to be a work of art that the king had placed on full display.

She growled softly to herself, trying to ignore his talking and his deals with the other leaders. Her mind wandered back to... simpler times was the wrong word for it, by far, but times she remembered fondly. Delving through tombs, cooking spiders with her magic, clinking glasses with allies at the bar or counting coins alone in her room. While comfort was always a distant thought, the life of an adventurer had been a fun and fulfilling role, one she'd taken to like a fish to water. Soon Red had been getting noticed in adventuring guilds for her ability to navigate traps well and defend herself impeccably.

Of course, she'd also been slowly gaining a reputation with the various countries. A dragoness, try as she might, had to hoard. Perhaps the call wasn't as bad for her as it would've been for her feral counterparts, but that didn't mean she didn't hear, and heed, the call. Piles of jewels, bags of coins, anything shiny that wasn't nailed down had often found its way into her pockets and spent on materials or partying for herself and any companions. Within one month as an adventurer she'd gained and lost more money than peasants and farmers would see in generations worth of lifetimes. It was all part of the job, and the part she loved the most.

And then her greed had finally gotten the best of her. A den of thieves had asked for her help breaking into King Kalabi's own personal vault, deep beneath his castle. It was mostly for their own greed, but they'd actually been put up to the task by a foreign dignitary aiming to take him down a few pegs. One, she noticed from her chained position, that was sitting at the King's table right now, not even blinking an eye at the dragoness standing by the throne. A state of being he had definitely caused.

Perhaps taking on a powerful king had been foolish. Or perhaps trusting on thieves not to cut and run had been a naive thought. Maybe she'd even put too much faith in foreign powers, or thought too highly of her pyromancy. Or a perfect storm may have happened involving all of them and poor luck. Whatever the reason, while she'd been able to sneak into the vault perfectly, not setting off a single trap, her companions hadn't been so lucky. One trip wire had sent trap doors open, darts flying from walls, and guard dogs charging at the intruders. Some fell to the traps, some were captured, unconscious, from the darts. Some were caught trying to escape the dogs, hiding in crates or dangling from rafters and kicking at the mutts.

Not her. She'd managed to fill her bag full of loot and was headed back when the vault began to seal itself magically, making sure nobody could get in or out after setting off the trap. She'd run to the large, metal door, pounding on the frame and trying to twist it free, but it was simply no use. Even her pyromancy had no effect except to turn the room hot and threaten paper money of other kingdoms lining the walls that surrounded the gold coins of the nation. She could do nothing but stand and watch as the king had opened the vault back up, looking her in the eyes with a cold, calculating smile. "Well, it seems I have a new jewel in my treasure vault... You have two options: the dungeons, or my chambers. Either way you will learn the price of your actions."

Initially she had chosen the dungeons, but they proved torturous. Whispers about King Kalabi's cruelty had reached far and wide, and they weren't mere smears. The other thieves were whipped and tortured, practically flayed for their crimes, and left whimpering, shuddering wrecks in their cells. Not her, though. She was treated differently, given nothing but the barest scraps of food, kept in the dark, and told one promise: she could avoid this fate if she simply went to the king's chambers. For months she resisted, growing weak and thin as her stubbornness kept her going. But eventually, when she was barely able to stand, let alone fight back, she finally relented. She would lay with the king.

Her legs twisted together in the throne room, watching the king as he laughed and spoke with the foreign dignitaries. Some plan about a monarch they all hated, and open words about how he was going to have him killed. "If my own brother couldn't escape me in his lands, what makes him think he can?" He laughed it off, the others laughing with him, but she knew full well just how dark and cold a heart awaited in that tyrant's chest.

She'd been stripped of her clothes and led up in chains, her claws clicking on the stone. Her hair was matted and filthy, her scales caked with sweat and dirt and grime from her time in the dungeons, and yet, she moved proudly. Her head was held high, though her cheeks were bright red, her eyes shifted to the side so she wouldn't lock eyes with anyone witnessing her nudity. She'd been marched through the castle, then placed in a bathtub between two guards while she'd been splashed with warm water and scrubbed clean. As rough and quick as it was, it was the first bit of care and affection she'd felt in months, and she'd leaned into the maid's touches, allowing herself to be cleaned.

From there she'd been draped in simple silks with gold coins around the collar and her waist, catching the light on her shapely, if emaciated, figure. It was clear she'd be beautiful if she was taken care of, but her pride had refused for so long. It still held strong, even months later as she stood in the throne room, head held high despite the weight in her womb. Still, on that day it had felt like it was gone as she'd walked into his bedroom clamped in gilded irons. And once his gaze had fallen on her, her fate had been sealed.

She squirmed in her chains in the throne room, thinking back to the night that had started this all. She'd squirmed much the same under his gaze, not expecting what she'd seen in the slightest. His eyes were sharp: a piercing deep purple that seemed to read her very soul, while his smile never left a gentle smirk, showing the fangs of a powerful warrior. Of course, that could've also been seen by his muscular form, his body chiseled underneath the black scales that covered him that reflected a deep purple in the light. His belly scales were purple, showing his neck, his chest, his abs, and swirling under his slit to run along the underside of his tail. Horns curved up from his head, impressive and powerful, but despite all his muscle, there wasn't a single hint of brutishness.

She'd known he was a dragon, and had heard of his looks, but she hadn't expected just how much they'd effect her. His body was beautiful, his eyes on hers showing... lust, but also want, clearly seeing something worthy to him. It was a rare feeling in her life as a thief, one that caught her off guard. And when he sent the guards from the room, he stood, accentuating something she'd never imagined: a bulge from his genital slit. All dragons had their bits on the inside, seeming smooth and slick as they flew through the air, but his was practically bulging out between his legs, pushing at the scales without being revealed, showing a true behemoth of a member laying in wait.

He approached her, his hand gentle, rubbing along her cheek and neck, the roughness of his scales from battle and work lessened by the silks over her, letting her only feel the power behind them. His voice was like honey, dripping from his mouth and rolling sweetly into her ears. "My dear, how could you make me wait this long? Months in the dungeon, when you could've been living in the lap of luxury. A fine specimen like you... So much will. And yet, it's clear you can be broken~." The sinister tones dripped like poison from his tongue, and yet, his caresses still held her like electricity. She was too weak to summon fire and fight back, and with the kindness he was showing her... she wanted to see where it was going.

King Kalabi took her chain in his hand like a lead, guiding her to the bed, before he lay down on it. Slowly his member started to spill forth, inch after inch flopping free, then rising to the sky and throbbing like a glorious spire. It was bright red, pulsing with his powerful heartbeats as he tugged on her chain. "If you're going to join my harem, you'll have to learn your place. Otherwise, it's back to the dungeon with you." She had hated looking at it, hated the dampness she felt between her legs, the desire that flowed, even when his words disgusted her. She hated more that she nodded, agreeing despite the fear. Perhaps, if she'd been mounted, she could've claimed innocence, that he'd forced it all on her.

But he hadn't. Though she was chained, and though she could see the evil behind his intelligent eyes and his affable smile, she still made her way onto his bed, straddling his hips and looking into his eyes. She'd still sunk down onto his length, spearing herself with it, spreading her lower lips wider than they'd ever been to press her hips to his, filling her more than she thought possible. Despite the disgust she'd felt afterwards, she'd still moaned loudly in pleasure, her back arching, her wings pulling on their bonds as she bounced herself on his length, impaling her body completely and letting him claim it as his. Her only show of disobedience had been to try to pull free when she felt his throbbing increasing, and one tug on her chain had her gasping, then moaning as his tongue thrust into her mouth, their lips meeting in a primal, lusty kiss. She'd been filled to the brim with his seed, every pulse seeming to squirt out more than dribbled down her thighs and over his hips.

Still dripping the royal seed, she'd been walked through the palace once more, and given her place in the harem. A place of honor, it turned out: that of the lone breeder. The king had received or taken consorts from across the lands: beautiful does with shapely rears, or elephantine beauties with heaving breasts that fed themselves grapes with their trunks. But she quickly saw that she was in a place of privilege, given her own space, the finest clothes, and food whose taste was so exquisite that she was sure she'd died and gone to heaven, or gone mad in that dungeon. She had a private bath, servants, everything that she could ask for... and all on just one condition.

Every day at the least, and often more than once a day, she was dressed in her fine silks and paraded through the palace to the king's chambers. And every day he'd offer her a lesson in "Obedience," keeping her chained and making her do the work herself to fill her fertile body with his seed. At the start, he'd often pull her leash or growl dominantly as he positioned her over his length properly from a strange roll of her hip. And yet, before too many weeks had passed, she wouldn't hesitate to position him at her entrance, to roll her hips and feel his cock spreading her wide, filling her up, hitting her deepest spots. Despite the pride she showed and the disdain that dripped from her mouth and filled her heart, she still speared herself completely without a touch of his chain, even putting herself in more compromising positions to maximize his, and her, pleasure.

It didn't take long at all for her to know how to ride his beast like a professional, bringing herself to claw-curling, throat-rasping orgasms as she screamed out the carnal pleasure he brought her. It also didn't take long at all for their unions to take root, the fruit borne of his seed starting to swell in her stomach, explaining the extra weight she'd begun to carry around. Even then, with her role as breeder fulfilled, he'd brought her in almost daily for months, making sure she was filled to the brim and moaning, always made to impale herself on his spire of a cock...

The silk around her mound clung to her scales, bringing her back to the cursed egg sitting low in her belly. As much as she hated it, shame burning on her cheeks, her arousal was clear, the memories of those nights burning through her loins and making her as wet now as she'd been then. She shook her head, glaring for a moment at him as he sealed the deal on a trade: protection for more members of his harem and wealth beyond belief. She closed her eyes, trying to focus elsewhere and dry up that wetness distracting her now.

Once her belly had started to grow undeniably heavy, to the point that she could no longer deny she was with his egg, she'd been called less. Still, from time to time, he'd take her, watching her stomach roll as she bounced herself on his length and moaned out for him, but they were rare. Instead she'd been given all the finest meals, the pampering of servants, everything she could ever want... except freedom and her old life. So long as she stayed within the castle walls and kept herself for her king alone, she was given every comfort. Though, the more she thought about it, the more she realized it was for her egg and not for her. Everything was made to ensure its health, her decisions filtered for its safety. This fine, dull, lavish life of luxury was little more than a gilded cage in which she could play the songbird all she liked.

Of course, she'd tried escaping a few times. She'd even tried to use her magic to create a distraction, but that was stomped right out. All the materials in her room were replaced with those enchanted to resist fire, and each escape brought her new jewels and collars that would restrict her access further, ensuring her obedience training paid off. And once she'd been a good, gentle, docile little hen of a dragoness, he'd started to bring her out to these court functions. Decked in silks, clad in gilded chains, and made to be a symbol of his virility and, on more than one occasion, a lighter for his guest's cigarettes. It was humiliating, to the point that she wondered if her pride mattered at all anymore...

And that was when she twisted her legs together, feeling the silks soaked through and dripping down her thighs, while her stomach cramped and pulled tightly. She shifted her weight on her claws, trying to find a more comfortable spot, when she realized they were soaked too, a small puddle around her feet. She stepped back to examine it and noticed a difference in the glint of her scales, the weight in her belly shifting lower... Her heart began to race as she felt another tight labor pang rip through her body. She was going to lay his egg right here in the throne room.

Red shakes her head, the hair waving behind her, yet now it began to cling to her head, sweat appearing at her brow. She pulls her thighs together tightly, her tail trying to move to cover her slit as well, but the chains stop that in its tracks. She couldn't move more than a few paces from the throne if she wanted to, and yet... her heart pounds within her, the fires of her pride burning hot. There was no way she was going to debase herself like this in front of a royal court. She may be too afraid of her king's reaction to try to get his attention, but she would either hold it in or hide it before laying in front of everyone. When he was done with court for the day, then she could tell him about the oncoming arrival... unless... her eyes narrowed, noticing the time outside. Courts had been going long lately... had he been planning this?

She paced around his throne, feeling the cramps rocking through her body, but she refused to acknowledge them. Every time one came, her muscles screaming for her to push, she simply closed her legs and took deep breaths, remembering her magic training and her focus when she picked locks. If only she had her tools now, she could be out of her chains and back in her comfortable chambers, laying in the nest of pillows she'd set up for just such an occasion. Her cheeks flushed and she snorted at herself, realizing that she'd been preparing, as though she'd been eager for this, or even wanted it! She squirmed, another spasm clutching at her pussy as it started to loosen, lubrication gliding down her passage, readying itself for the egg as the process went on, whether she wanted it to or not.

This was her first egg, this whole process a new experience for her, but she wasn't without any idea. She hadn't been an only child, and had helped her mother with the delivery of the youngest, hearing descriptions and talks about every step of the process while she'd watched her mother grow. She'd even been told how it happened, and had known the risks all the way back on that first day, looking at his impressive scepter and taking it into her treasure chamber just the same. But being on this side of the egg was a very different story. She'd always hoped she'd have more control than this, seeing how calm her mother had been and how she'd known what to do with every step. But no, that must have come from experience, knowing what would happen next... because there was no slowing the new life trying to burst forth into the world.

Eventually the egg started to shift, and she could feel it at the top of her birth canal, the cramping and urges to push coming one after another, telling her the time was now. She looked at the crowd, still holding court, seemingly oblivious to her distress... and maybe she could use that to her advantage. Her eyes drifted around the small area she could reach, spotting the back of the throne. Maybe she could just slip back there, crouch down, and have it done before they even noticed... She sighed with relief, taking a small, waddling step forward, when the next wave of pressure hit her hips, the egg rolling into her pussy, her walls spread wide and rippling around it.

She wished there was just pain. Then she could claim the whole process horrible, cursing his very name for every step. But from that first motion to the pampering while she grew, even to this moment with the egg inside her, the pain was masked and sparked by pleasure. The discomfort was there, but so was an instinctual satisfaction, a true joy of a purpose being fulfilled. Her muscles pushed, the egg slipping a little further, spreading her even more and pressing against her g spot. She clenched her teeth, whining pathetically as she tried to keep waddling with her knees locked tight. It was the only sound she could make through the muzzle, and more sound than she'd made up to this point by far. She took another step, trying to reach the back of the throne, and felt the egg slip further, her very slit opening up to allow air against the smooth front end of the newest life to reach the world.

Her heart was pounding in her chest, her face flushed with exertion, pleasure, pain, fear... She didn't want this to be happening, not here, not now, but she had no way to hold it back, and no way to even do the job herself. Sweat dripped from her head, making her face glisten like her oiled belly, the weight almost entirely out of it now, the prince crowning between her legs. She couldn't find a way out, couldn't figure out how to keep herself free... this couldn't be happening!

And then, that voice, like honey dripping sweetly into her frightened mind, its dominant purr triggering something inside her that simply makes her obey. "My egg..." it growled in annoyance, booming the sound around the chamber. "... shall not touch the ground," it finished, ensuring all seated in the court could hear.

Red's cheeks rushed with embarrassment before another cramp pushed at her, the egg spreading her lips wider. She turned, seeing the dark scales of the king towering over her form... or at least, over it as it was hunched and trying to hold things in. She looked from his stern, and yet almost cutely eager eyes, down his beautifully garbed body to his hand, where it rested not inches from her mound, stretched round and wide with the coming egg. Immediately she sees what he is doing and all pride leaves her. She was in labor, pushing out an egg... she needed help, and the father was the perfect helper.

She whined as she stepped forward, straightening up and spreading her legs, her mound right at his fingers. She pushed, giving into the urges finally, her body straining around the widest point... and yet, it only took that one, her frightened body having already done so much of the work for her. She let out a groan, her body going off-balance as the egg slips free from her passage, the fluids that had kept it inside her coating it upon its exit and ruining the sleeves of the king's royal garb. The egg glistened in his hands, much as her belly did with the oils, now dull from the sweat and the strain. It was scarlet red, matching her scales perfectly. She looked on it, eyes tearing up in her tired mind as she sees her child nestled so readily before her.

And then his voice rang out, once more like poison dripping from his fangs as he held up the egg. "Marvelous... a real beauty." He snapped his fingers, calling over a servant. "Take her to my chambers. I wish for no delay on the next egg." He then turned to the others, who had watched the whole ordeal. "Court for the day is adjourned. We will continue tomorrow." He turned back to her, his eyes sharp and piercing, looking at her at her weakest moment.

She felt the fire in her blood, the anarchist streak rising once more, her whole body screaming at him for what he'd just put her through, for all that had come and, if he had his way, would come again. And yet, when her eyes met his, it bled away with the last of her pride, joining the puddle of amniotic fluids coating the throne room floor. She felt woozy, like she would faint, and her whole body ached, but she nodded, ready to serve her king once more. She only wished she could truly say she hated it.