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• Chapter 12 of the Legends of the DragonRider

Anitra gritted her teeth as a fresh contraction rolled through her. Her water had broken a couple of hours ago, but that had turned out to be just the start of the marathon. She dimly remembered it being much the same way for her mother when her younger brother was born, but supposedly things tended to go faster once you had a bit of_experience_ in the fine art of creating a squealing and slightly slimy living being. According to the healers, meanwhile, her_son wasn't in _any kind of hurry to leave home, even if the plumbing had gone out - they'd advised her to get comfortable and arm herself with patience, then left her to share some privacy with the chap who got her into this unpleasant situation.

As for their advice, she wasn't sure which of the two suggestions she found most difficult to follow. Patience had never been her strong suit, unless someone was literally holding a blade to her throat - as had, after all, been known to happen - but on the other hand, it was also pretty goddamned difficult to 'get comfortable' when you were being shaken by steadily more frequent convulsions that clearly started at her still-occupied uterus and stopped somewhere around the end of her long, black hair. Plus, she was flat on her back in the nest she shared with Blake, rather than sitting in her extremely comfortable pregnancy-weight supporting chair - which, needless to say, rather failed to improve her comfort-levels. Of course, she hadn't been really comfortable for months now, so why should the finale be any different? In the end, too many parts of her body were still those of a 16-year-old, and stuck that way indefinitely - quite unsuited for the 'weighty' responsibility she had placed upon them...

The idea of being stuck like this until - from the sound of it - probably well past nightfall seemed unendurable, even with both Direza and Melora eagerly waiting on her hand and foot despite being impeded by, respectively, a high level of slightly panic-tinged concern and a pregnancy that was likely to catch up with hers within the next few days. Indeed, Direza seemed rather more worried about the birth than Blake did, which she might have found rather annoying if he hadn't made it so clear that he simply had perfect confidence in her ability to handle the situation, even going so far as to roll his eyes at the coming and going of the Utopia's human healers. "I'm well aware that humans die in childbirth on occasion, but DragonRiders don't. Your body is far stronger, tougher, and more capable of recovery than these... worrywarts seem capable of understanding!" He'd commented after one visit. Anitra thought this was probably a bit unfair - the healers were likely just eager to prove their worth, and worried that anything unfortunate happening to the Utopia's biggest non-dragon VIP would reflect rather poorly on them.

This was not to say that he was ignoring her plight, however. Even now, he lifted his head from the massive tome he'd been studying as he sensed her discomfort, and looked down at her naked, sweaty body with, if not exactly concern, then at least something adjacent to it. "Are those 'contractions' really so painful?" he asked lightly, forcing her to reflect on it for a moment. Certainly, compared to some of the things she'd done - and had done to_her - since first meeting him, this wasn't all that bad. But context, as had been made particularly clear to her at the recent baby-shower, was _important. And this wasn't the kind of pain she could shrug off, let alone enjoy. It was the pain of her body acting on its own, taking control away from her while leaving her with very little choice other than just holding on for dear life.

"Fairly painful, yes..." she replied, slightly breathless. "Also repetitive and unavoidable, which can heighten even a minor discomfort to the level of outright torture, as you well know." He snorted, head bobbing. "I suppose. Still, compared to the 'minor' discomforts of the pregnancy itself, this won't last all that long, will it? And then you'll be back to your old self again!" Sighing, she nodded. That was indeed an enlivening thought. Ever since she'd awakened as a DragonRider, she'd gloried in the inhuman speed, strength and agility this conferred on her - so being reduced to a sedentary blob who could just about manage to trundle along at a snail's pace if pressed had sucked almost as much of the fun out of her life as the crimper it had put on her sex-life.

"I really just want it to be over already..." she groaned as yet another contraction coursed through her. Blake chuckled at the obviousness of this statement, then craned his neck a bit more as he went in for a closer look - possibly noticing her current paleness through the general paleness of her skin. "There may_be a way to speed things along, actually..." he said cautiously, drawing her immediate attention. "Really!?" Anitra asked with immediate eagerness. "The Healers didn't mention anything about that... have you been reading a midwife's manual over there or something?" Her voice was playful, but all the same, she couldn't help but wonder how Blake might know more about the subjects than the calmly professional healers with their soothing voices and their cool hands. He couldn't even _use healing magics of any kind...

Blake, however, chuckled and nodded his head. "Not too far off the truth, my dear! In case you forgot, the Utopia has played host to a fair few black dragons and riders over the ages - every couple of centuries, a pair would find their way here by following the clues laid down in those legends we completely missed while taking the long way around. They'd stay for a while, probably enjoy actually feeling welcome somewhere for a change, but eventually get tired of life in the gilded cage that this place was before we returned Lutan's Tablet to them. Of course, the role of 'Champion' involved a fair bit of hard work back then too, since they were the only ones who could come and go freely... but the point I'm getting at is, would it surprise you to learn that quite a few of these past Champions decided that the Utopia was the best possible place to have a kid?"

It shouldn't have, she realized. In fact, thinking back, the one who had first identified her pregnancy was Elecrastor, the Utopia's wise - if slightly senile - Elder. He'd even mentioned seeing other DragonRiders in the same situation before, hadn't he? "Makes sense..." she answered, feeling just a touch slow for not having thought of it before. "Guess that means this place has a fair bit of accumulated knowledge concerning DragonRider pregnancies specifically, then?" Blake nodded, his scaly smile widening. "You could say that. I've dug through some written accounts, but most of what I've learned came from some of the older dragonesses who were there for the actual events, and even closely involved in some cases. Dragons don't really have 'midwives', or even healers, the way humans do... but those past DragonRiders apparently still found some comforts in having feminine company, even if it was of the draconic sort."

"And what did you learn from all this?" Anitra asked, starting to feel slightly impatient with his failure to get to the point. Blake shrugged. "Well, in some of the previous cases, the Riders used a Quickening to take the edge off the pain... and apparently, it also tended to accelerate the birth itself." Anitra's eyes widened as this possibility was finally broached. Why hadn't she thought of that herself? The Quickening was almost like a drug - actually, it was a lot like a drug, for better or worse. When she was riding a Quickening, everything seemed easy. Pain and fatigue just melted away. She'd benefited from it many times during the pregnancy - but in those cases, it had always lost some impact with the knowledge that once it wore off, she'd be back to being half-crippled, and twice as sore if she'd actually acted on the added energy and mobility the Quickening afforded her. That, obviously, wasn't the case here...

Well, presumably one of the reasons it hadn't occurred to her was that she just plain wasn't feeling very sexy right now. She was fairly sure she looked a sight, all pasty and sweaty and shivery, like some kind of plague victim - but judging from his expression, Blake didn't agree with her on that count. Heh. Well, if nothing else, altering the context might make those painful contractions feel more... pleasant? Either way, it was worth a shot. With a grunt, she rolled over on her hands and knees, gritting her teeth as she forced her limbs to cooperate - at least for a little while. "Well, then, what are you waiting for?" She called over her shoulder, as seductively as she could manage under the circumstances. With a broad grin, Blake discarded the tome and climbed around behind her, looming over her like a pleasantly familiar shadow.

Direza and Melora leaped into action without the need for prompting. Direza's tongue prodded and massaged Anitra's asshole, her delicate face lodged between the two pale orbs of her buttocks - digging in with passion as she prepared it for entry, clearly welcoming this familiar duty as a way to do something about her mistress' discomfort and simultaneously push her own anxiety back. Meanwhile, Melora's broad, soft tongue caressed the length of Blake's already-unsheathed and rapidly-hardening cock, tracing its contours with an ease born of long familiarity. This exact tableau - the two faithful servants preparing their beloved master and mistress for a round of vigorous ass-reaming - had repeated itself countless times since they'd taken up residence in these chambers, especially since Anitra's pussy was rendered inoperable by the pregnancy... but rarely had it been performed with such passion and drive.

Within a couple of minutes they were done, and the slobbery sound of their busy tongues died away. Anitra's sphincter was nicely relaxed, dripping with Direza's spit inside and outside, while Blake's entire two-foot-plus length of rock-hard cockmeat gleamed with Melora's thoroughly-applied saliva. No sooner had the two servants moved their respective heads aside, than Blake surged forwards - his aim as unerring as ever as he steered his rod towards the waiting orifice. Anitra gasped at the familiar feeling of being stretched open by his vast girth, her insides smoothly rearranging to make room. A fresh contraction ran through her even as he penetrated her, and already it seemed like the stab of pain held an ephemeral edge of pleasure.

Over the past three months, Blake had pounded Anitra's ass more than a thousand times. Even though she was heavily pregnant, sore, grouchy, jealous of both Melora's greater ease of movement and his continued freedom to indulge in whatever sexual games he pleased, even though it annoyed her to bits that so many positions and options were currently closed to her, she still couldn't get enough of feeling his cock ride smoothly up her lower intestine, straightening her spine along the way and finally terminating with his scaly scrotum pressing against her bountiful buttocks while his conical cockhead rested between her lungs, close to her heart. And apparently, neither could he.

He didn't ream her as roughly as he'd used to - didn't fuck her 'till her teeth rattled and her breath came in explosive bursts as his rampaging cock literally forced the air from her lungs. He didn't press her into the fur-lined nest so that he could drive his rock-hard rod into her with his full, multi-ton weight behind every thrust. And this, too, annoyed her. But he'd adapted, and so had she. His strokes were long and smooth, moving his whole body instead of just his hips, driving his full, imposing length into her with every thrust. The impact was less than it might have been, but this was because he started to pull his body backwards a moment before he hit the bottom, keeping his cock constantly sawing back and forth without a second's pause.

Despite all that Anitra's inhuman body could do, in terms of elasticity and rapid regeneration, her ass had adapted to these frequent intrusions. Her sphincter stretched more easily now, and while she missed that slight sting of delicious pain that it used to give her when forced to accommodate Blake's enormous girth, she treasured the way her ass seemed to receive him like a tailor-made glove received a hand. It was like her body was forever waiting to welcome him there, to wrap around his exact dimensions with a snug, tight fit - and while some of the pain was gone, the pleasure had redoubled as if to compensate.

As her sphincter adapted fully to the by-now familiar size of the intrusion, his strokes lengthened even more. On every pull-back, he'd fully leave her ass, letting it gape like a landed fish for just a moment before plunging back inside. Pockets of air were trapped by this measure, creating a pressure that gradually filtered back along the sides of the reciprocating shaft, before finally escaping around the edges with a wheezing noise that made Direza blush, bite her lip and cross her legs, clearly wishing that someone could cause _her_ass to produce such disgustingly erotic sounds. This, however, was a trick only a dragon - and an experienced one at that - could safely attempt, thanks to the groin-muscles that allowed them such delicate control over their dicks. Anyone who tried it without would be running the risk of encountering a mutually painful collision... not that this necessarily deterred the horny young men of the various other races.

Already soaring towards her first orgasm, Anitra smiled broadly. Regardless of what happened once Blake reached his climax and thus provided her with a Quickening, the experiment had already met with success. As long as Blake's cock was busy rampaging through her ass, the increasingly-frequent contractions felt like a delightful spice on top of it, rather than an unwelcome torture. Whether it was needles being driven into her nipples, a ruthless whip caressing her pussy, jolts of lightning being applied directly to her clit, or painful muscular contractions traveling down her spine and into her abdomen - the feeling of Blake's cock pounding her ass so smoothly and steadily could turn it all into pleasure.

The promised orgasm hit at the same time as the next contraction, swallowing it entirely in a burst of ecstasy. As every muscle in her body automatically strained, her toes curling and her fingers digging into the furs beneath them, the detached part of her brain that sometimes noticed or considered stuff while the rest of her was busy just feeling good noted that her womb seemed to jump along with everything else in that moment, and pondered whether this reaction could be at the root of the idea about a Quickening speeding the birth on. Certainly, as the pleasure receded, the contractions seemed noticeably closer together than before... but she didn't care much. It hadn't receded very far, for Blake was still pounding away at her with long, steady, noisy thrusts.

It took him longer to cum like this than it had before - having to hold back and focus on his stroke had that effect. But nonetheless, he made it there before Anitra reached her second peak... grunting as he suppressed the instinctive urge to slam forwards hard enough to flatten her ass and send her hair whipping like a loose sail in a storm. His thick, white jizz, filled with the raw, draconic life-force, boiled into her ass, pushing around the sharp bend his cock could not traverse, rapidly filling her intestines to capacity.

Not for long, though. Before a second had passed, her inhuman metabolism had fallen on the newly-arrived goo with voracious appetite. As it prepared for the birth, Anitra's body was in a state that, while not technically being a true crisis, certainly resembled one as far as some of her autonomous systems were concerned. Those systems thus reacted as they always did - seizing on the magical power of the Quickening and sending it towards the troubled areas as quickly as it could be drawn from the generous fuel-supply currently heating up her intestines from the inside.

The familiar rush of mental clarity hit her along with the delicious high, and the pain in her limbs and back faded away. The next contraction barely registered, stopped entirely by the roadblock of the Quickening. Suddenly, she was highly aware of her womb and, indeed, her long-neglected pussy. She could tell that her birth-canal was loosening, widening, relaxing - and also knew that it was entirely unnecessary. The human side of her physiology was working overtime to prepare itself for something her draconic side handled as a matter of routine - namely, a severely oversized intrusion within her pussy. Her cervix, similarly, seemed to think that it needed to go through all kinds of strange warmups to get ready for letting the infant within pass through it, apparently forgetting the number of times that Blake's arm-thick cock had pushed past it with only token resistance.

No wonder Blake had been so confident. Anitra almost felt like laughing as she finally got it. This whole torment, the contractions and the hours of waiting, was nothing more than her human parts overreacting to something that really shouldn't be classified as a challenge at all. The baby could come right this moment - could have come two hours ago - and her body would have handled it with aplomb, thanks to its supernatural elasticity and the same adaptions that let her enjoy dragon-cock. All this preparation was completely and utterly pointless.

With that thought, she started the birth - overriding her body's stubborn beliefs with the raw energy of the Quickening, forcing her uterus to contract from the top to the bottom, pushing the contents out through the still-unprepared cervix. It strained under the width of the baby-skull that now traversed it, bigger - if only slightly - than the dick that had laid its original seed. Then the shoulders followed, forcing it to widen into a whole new and flatter shape, and as Blake resumed the ass-pounding after having briefly stopped while cumming, she hit her second climax. It had been nearly a year_since she'd last enjoyed the sensation of a monstrously oversized cock reaching clear to her cervix and then penetrating _that as well in order to fuck her womb, deforming it around the relevant head. A year. And the baby now passing through it was generating the same kind of sensations. Riding the high of the Quickening all the way, she orgasmed repeatedly from the birth itself, more than Blake's continued efforts.

Her labia stretched delightfully as the baby crowned, the small, slimy head emerging from between them. She stopped squeezing for a moment, then - simply enjoying the sensation of a tiny body filling her pussy to capacity, squirming and struggling and breathing as the infant lungs caught their first whiff of the outside air. As the head squirmed, it rubbed across her clit - and another orgasm shot through her. The resulting muscular contractions did the rest of the work for her, squeezing the struggling infant the last bit of the way out of his old home - and directly onto the layer of carefully-boiled linens that Melora and Direza were holding in place beneath him, having noticed what was happening with varying degrees of disbelief. Finally freed of the constriction of Anitra's powerful abdominal muscles, the tiny lungs expanded to their full capacity, and the newborn emitted a lusty scream - which resonated nicely with his mothers' orgasmic cry.

As luck would have it, Blake had just enough time to reach a second climax - arriving somewhat quicker than the first one, for reasons surely unrelated to him just feeling his lover reach _repeated_orgasms from the act of childbirth - while Direza and Melora went through the motions that the healers had, on their own insistence, instructed them in. The placenta soon followed the infant, the umbilical was pinched shut and cut off, and the baby was gently cleaned using boiled water. Thus, by the time Anitra rolled back over on her back, still enjoying the warm glow of an ongoing Quickening that would take a while to run out of fuel, a neat, freshly-cleaned infant was delivered into her arms, already suitably swaddled, eyes squeezed shut while the tiny lips perpetually moved in an instinctive search for something to suck on.

Feeling a warm glow that wasn't entirely down to the Quickening's high, she laid her son on her chest and guided him to a waiting nipple, already strategically devoid of any obstructing rings. A scattering of black hairs clung wetly to his scalp, and his tiny hands opened and closed rhythmically as he eagerly drank her milk. Blake hovered above them, a softly bemused expression on his face, seemingly not even noticing how Direza and Melora had started working together underneath him to clean his cock after its eventful stay in Anitra's ass.

The blunt side of a hesitant talon reached down, running across the tiny scalp with exquisite care. "Black hair... truly his mother's son..." Blake whispered, sounding strangely surprised. Anitra giggled. "He's a DragonChild, my love. They all have black hair, as I understand it - same as us DragonRiders." Blake nodded slowly, then shook his head as if he couldn't quite make up his mind as to what he should be doing with his head. "I know..." he said, still sounding oddly bemused. "I think I just... never really believed in it. That we could have a _child_together. Even knowing about it, about the odd 'lifecycle' our ancient creator came up with for his favorite servants, and having read several authoritative tomes on the subject, I still couldn't quite believe that it would actually happen."

Lowering his head further, he breathed in deeply - taking in the shared scent of the mother and child, filing them away in the deepest, most central part of his mind. "But it did. It did." He continued, while Anitra simply smiled beatifically up at him. "And now, by the dragon-laws, we are husband and wife." This prompted a blink, at least, and a hesitant "Umm... we are?" Blake smiled, the wonderment clearing somewhat from his face as the reality sank in. "We are indeed. When dragons mate... that is, fly mating-flights... they always produce a clutch of eggs, assuming they're the same color of course. But those eggs don't necessarily produce any actual young. Invariably, most of them are fallow. If you're lucky, one or two won't be. So... by law and tradition, you are only truly wed when you have produced a living whelp together. And this young gentleman certainly qualifies!"

Anitra grinned, feeling a strange, fluttery sensation within her chest. As far as she was concerned, she'd been wedded to Blake in all but name since their first night together. But it didn't hurt to get the 'name' bit settled, either. It didn't hurt one bit. "He does indeed..." she said softly. "Though, if my dear old man is anything to go by, I doubt he'll be much of a gentleman! Probably more of a rascal, odds are." Blake nodded, a widening grin on his reptilian face suggesting that he didn't have any particular trouble with the idea of having a rascal for a son. Then his face creased for a moment. "I know you still get hung up on human things sometimes, so... do you want to have a human-style ceremony later?" He asked hesitantly. "I don't mind going along with whatever you feel is appropriate, my wife... though, if you would like to see me in a tuxedo, I fear we'd best alert the tailors as quickly as possible!"

The mental image this invoked caused Anitra to descend into such helpless paroxysms of laughter that her son was briefly detached from the tit he'd been gleefully drinking his first meal from, evoking a thoroughly annoyed cry - which fortunately went silent as soon as the drinks-fountain was suitably presented to him again along with some wordless, softly apologetic noises. "I think I rather would_like to see that, just for a laugh..." Anitra said with a bright smile once this all-important task was complete, but then shook her head. "Still, the answer is no - I don't feel any need to go through a bunch of ceremonial rigmarole just to establish something that's been a _fact for years already. I am yours, and you are mine - whatever name anyone cares to put to it. Besides, a wedding generally involves a blessing from your god of choice, and from what we've learned, none of them are particularly likely to look kindly on_ours_..."

The last bit was a rather unpleasant side-note that she immediately regretted bringing up - but Blake paid it no mind. The simple declaration that had gone before had caused him to be caught up in a brief moment of retrospection that made his chest feel strangely tight. When he'd first met her... she'd been just another victim, another brief outlet for the bubbling tension in his groin. Then she'd turned out to be a DragonRider, straight out of those unbelievable old stories and legends... and he'd just thought of her as a convenient and devoted servant, a permanent solution to his sexual needs. Useful on several levels, certainly, and thus worth preserving as far as possible, but still ultimately a lesser_creature. She walked on two legs and had neither scales nor wings, so how could it be otherwise? It had taken many months and some rather dramatic events before he'd been able to admit to himself that he_loved her just as much as she loved him - which made them_equals_. But thinking back, now, he realized that he'd probably loved her since that first night... and simply been in denial about it for a while.

Well, there was no need to lie to himself or anyone else about it anymore. Letting his talon carefully caress both mother and child, he chuckled happily. "Fair enough, my dear. Perhaps we can still have some cake to celebrate, as I understand is traditional in human marriages. More to the point, rumors have reached my ears that the dragons of the palace kitchen - along with some of their new, two-legged comrades - are preparing a just such a celebratory confections for us. As a surprise, of course! Mind, they probably expected to have until around nightfall to finish it, so I guess the surprise is on them..."

They shared a giggle about this while Melora - who was sporting an expression of studied innocence - whispered something to Direza, who promptly asked her mistress' leave to run a quick errand. Considering that the situation was both pleasant and quite stable - and that if anyone's services was likely to be required soon, it was Melora's - this was quickly granted. No doubt, the cake-makers in the kitchens would soon receive some panic-inducing news, poor fellows... and the healers who'd been planning to return to check on her quite soon would probably be struck with even more consternation. Ah well!

Anitra winced as her son sucked a bit harder on the nipple. Already, that particular font of nourishment was running dry. Well, she still had a fresh tit ready to serve, which should see him through his initial voraciousness... but next time he got hungry, she'd likely have no choice but to hand him over to Melora. It was fortunate indeed that Blake had thought to prepare a wet nurse in this fashion, but she still didn't much care for the idea of handing the bright new life she'd just created over to anyone else so soon. Well... maybe once the first diaper-change came around she'd feel differently.

"Did you ever settle on a name?" Blake asked, breaking her out of her reverie. They'd discussed the subject on a few occasions, but Blake had ultimately made it clear that it was her choice. Only fair that she should have naming-rights, according to him, considering that she'd done most of the heavy lifting. Besides, he'd joked, _he_would probably just wind up calling him 'son' or 'boy' or 'champ' or something along those lines most of the time. Thus, she'd been left to contemplate a few options on her own... but seeing the infant now suckling at her teat, she knew exactly which option to go with.

"Yes. His name is Jet..." she said with a warm smile, running a hand over the scarce hairs on his head. "After the gemstone. It'll clearly match his hair, once he grows in a full head of it. And with any luck, he'll grow up to be just as beautiful - and just as tough - as the stone he's named for!" And thus, without ceremony, Jet the DragonChild was named. Humans would have had a ceremony for that too, but as far as dragons were concerned, a whelp was named once both parents had agreed on one. Unconcerned with having had this identity and the future expectations to go with it stamped upon his being, Jet eagerly continued to suckle - only to soon interrupt his meal with a loud complaint about the lack of reliable service. Fortunately, the waitstaff was very understanding, and quickly arranged a new table for him...

Less than a week later, it was Melora's turn. By then, she'd already proven her worth as both a wet nurse and an expert diaper-changer - turned out, childcare among the Horse-People tribes had been fairly communal, with young mares being expected to help out whenever a new foal was born, regardless of blood-relation. Direza, meanwhile, had to learn from the ground up how to fold, attach and change a diaper - but she was a quick study, eager as ever to prove herself to her mistress, and Jet thoughtfully provided her with lots of opportunities to practice. The human in Anitra twinged a bit when she watched the two of them labor over her child - whispering to her that she was somehow missing out on something that was an intrinsic part of the mother-child bond by leaving it to them. She proceeded to remind it about how she'd been forced to help her mother with those exact duties after her baby brother was born, however, and that shut it up in a hurry. It hadn't been 'bonding', it had just been disgusting.

When_she_ went into labor, however, Melora finally had to take a break. She'd continued to dutifully do her work as Blake's personal servant and painslut/fucktoy right up to the final day without ever needing any additional rest - not that Blake hadn't gone easy on her for the last few months regardless, without actually coming right out and saying as much. But not even she could continue to work once the contractions started wracking her body... if only because they seemed to make her immediately weak in the knees. Melora, unlike Anitra and, for that matter, Manushya, didn't need any kind of 'context' to enjoy pain. Blake's involvement served as a_magnifier_ for her masochistic enjoyment, however, and it was he who had effectively decreed her pregnancy - so even _that_was in effect at this point.

Well, it wasn't a bad thing that she was enjoying the process, Anitra quickly decided - after all, for her, there was no 'shortcut'. Not that she needed it, mind. A midwife had visited from the Equus enclave to look her over, and the old mare in question had swiftly declared that Melora was in fine shape and all set for a swift, smooth and trouble-free birth. And while humans could easily spend a whole day in labor if they weren't lucky, the Equus moved with more reliable alacrity - once she'd heard exactly when the water had broken, the old mare stated with confidence that Melora would be giving birth within the next three hours. She offered to stay and assist, but Melora politely refused, telling her that there was no call for such help during a birth that would, by her own judgment, be untroubled. And if something did go wrong, she had a powerful healer standing by, in the form of Direza, so there was really no reason for her to linger. The midwife accepted this without argument - apparently, the Equus handled pregnancy and birth so easily that they habitually took care of the whole thing solo unless there was some reason to suspect complications.

Of course, Anitra rather suspected that Melora had sent away the old mare for a slightly different reason... namely, being able to enjoy the pain of the impending birth without any judging eyes resting upon her. At the moment, she was on her back in the main nest - on Blake's insistence, after she'd initially started towards her own, fairly minimalistic cot - with her legs spread, steadily rubbing her swollen clit with a distant look in her eyes. Every contraction was marked by a sharp intake of breath and a slow, sighing exhalation. Remembering how the same kind of contractions had plagued her until Blake provided a much-needed recontextualization, she could only smile and shake her head at Melora's all-encompassing masochism.

With Melora thus taking it easy for once, Anitra was once again breast-feeding her son - as she had resolved to do whenever her breasts could be persuaded to supply a decent meal. Direza, of course, remained on hand to assist in whatever ways she needed, but she didn't need much. Jet had proven to be a remarkably quiet and even-tempered child, so long as he was kept well-fed. If he wasn't- and he had an amazing appetite - he wasted no time reminding everyone in earshot of his dietary needs. Which was fair, really, even if the high-pitched cries tended to make Blake wince in a rather pained fashion. Sharp senses were, as it turned out, sometimes a drawback...

Looking up at him now, she patted him on the thigh. "Come now, husband of mine... don't just sit around watching. You're the one who got her_into_ that mess, if perhaps by slightly less direct means than me..." she said tauntingly, causing his head to swivel down so that he could raise a questioning eyebrow at her. "I can't argue with that, but I do wonder what you're getting at..." he asked hesitantly, eyes flickering over to the softly-moaning mare. Anitra shook her head with a chuckle. "I'm telling you to join her on that nest, and make the birth just as unforgettable for her as it was for me. She went and had a kid just because you asked her to, so it's really the least you can do..."

With a laugh and a rustle of scales against scales, Blake rose from where he'd been sitting, coiled together, on the floor. "I rarely 'get' your ideas about 'morality' and whatnot, wife of mine... and this time is no exception. But on this occasion, I certainly don't_mind_ going along with it either!" Anitra waved him along with a grin. Based on when the midwife had made her prognosis, Melora's foal would be coming along within the next hour or so - and with Blake's help, it would no doubt pass swiftly.

Blake didn't head directly to Melora's side, however - instead, he took a detour via their toy-collection. Normally, he sent Melora herself to fetch whatever he needed for their next session of sexual torture - which no doubt added a certain extra edge to things - but since she was currently out of action, he had to go himself for once. Fortunately, the things he'd apparently set out to collect were quite easy to carry with a single talon... otherwise, he would've been forced to resort to telekinetic magic, a field in which he still lacked a certain finesse.

Despite the frequency of the contractions and the pleasure they so clearly brought her, Melora looked up with hungry eagerness as Blake loomed by her bedside, grinning viciously down at her. "It seems the child I commanded into existence is finally getting ready to arrive..." he rumbled, running his eyes across her sweat-matted coat. "And it occurred to me that since your foal will be suckling alongside my son, it would be suitable for him - or her - to be born under similar circumstances." Her eyes lit up at this declaration, and a shudder that had nothing to do with the impending birth ran through her body. "Oooh... yes, please, my lord... I do not know how I could deserve such a reward!"

Chuckling, Blake reached forth a claw, and showed her what he'd just retrieved. "Of course you haven't earned it. I am simply feeling generous on account of my son's birth... and thus am willing to regard these as due penance for stepping beyond your station for a short while." Dangling from his claw were three pear-shaped weights, each attached to a small metal hook with a needle-sharp tip. Anitra used similar weights when playing with Direza sometimes, just... with clamps instead. These ones, though, essentially required the creation of a fresh piercing whenever they were used. And the weights that dangled from them were many times heavier than one would have assumed from their size... seeing as they were made from solid gold.

As Melora collected the weights from Blake's outstretched talon and began to attach them - ramming the hooks through her no-doubt tender nipples without trace of hesitation - Anitra glanced over at Direza, who still stood faithfully by her side. "Why don't you go lend a hand for a moment?" She asked lightly, then grinned naughtily. "Or perhaps a tongue - after all, Melora is supposed to receive the same experience I did the other day, right?" For a moment, Direza's elven eyes jumped between the reclining Melora, Anitra, and the swaddled babe in her arms. "If you are sure you won't need me, mistress..." she replied hesitantly, clearly recognizing that the suggestion had been a suggestion, rather than an order. Anitra had no doubt that she _wanted_to go help her friend in whatever way she could - the two of them had grown even closer since Direza's cum-pickling ordeal - but she naturally regarded her duty towards her mistress and the newborn as paramount.

With a smile, Anitra waved her along. "I think I can manage on my own for a few minutes. Jet's sleeping, anyway, so it's not like I'm about to go anywhere." And indeed, the infant in her arms was breathing slowly and steadily, his occasionally scrunched-up face relaxed and cherubic while his tiny hands opened and closed around the edge of the blanket that covered him to the neck. With a thankful nod, Direza left her - climbing onto the nest just in time to watch Melora ram the third hook straight through her clit.

Melora's pussy looked noticeably different from a human one, Anitra had noted on a number of occasions. The outer labia were thicker, smoother, fleshier - and there were some additional folds at the top, around the clitoral hood. Most notably, however, her clit was significantly larger, peeking out from under the heavy hood like a thumb-tip whenever she was aroused, as she most definitely was now. It did not appear to be noticeably less sensitive than a human one, though, and a shudder ran through the already-shaky mare as the cold steel punched through it, emerging on the other side with a drop of blood clinging to its surface. The weight of the golden adornment attached to the hook swung down as soon as Melora's fingers relinquished it, embedding it between moist folds that had already opened wide in preparation for the impending birth.

With the torturous weights thus in place, Melora wasted no further time - rolling over and heaving herself up on hands and knees with only a slight tremor in her muscular arms and legs. The golden weights swung down, obedient to gravity's call, and now dangled heavily from the three sensitive points they were attached to. Drops of pinkish milk escaped from the stretched-open holes in her nipples, caressing the golden decorations below before dripping from the bottom of them. Blake had already positioned himself so that his cock was in easy reach of her mouth, and as she began applying a suitable layer of lubrication to it, Direza dived under her expectantly upraised tail and put her own tongue to work.

In truth, there probably wasn't any great need for heavy amounts of lubrication. Like Anitra, Melora had been barred from any major vaginal penetrations for months, and thus also similarly wound up spending a lot of time with a dragon-sized cock up her tailhole. This bias had caused even Anitra's supernaturally flexible sphincter to adapt, despite all what her accelerated recovery could do - and Melora's rear was, alas, perfectly mundane... if also undeniably shapely. Anitra had seen an asshole in worse shape only once - when she had personally engineered said asshole's ruination. The perpetually swollen sphincter, caught between the two large muscle-orbs of the buttocks, was generally squeezed together into something resembling a second pussy, sans clit, and it practically seemed to self-lubricate - often oozing a clear, slimy liquid that didn't smell particularly pleasant but certainly did the job.

When Direza pulled the ass-cheeks apart, the hole seemed to gape open largely on its own - but it could clearly gape wider still when suitably motivated. The hole was surrounded by a circular patch of bald skin, once covered in a soft coating that had by now been worn off to reveal a hide that was wrinkled from repeated stretching. It was the very image of an ass built to handle impossibly large cocks, though not without consequence - Anitra had noted that of late, Melora rarely spent very long on the toilet, and she rather suspected that it was only the mare's impressively well-toned rear-end musculature that kept her from 'dribbling' a lot in general.

Nonetheless, Direza attacked it with gusto, rimming the edges of the gape with her tongue before spiraling out to slather the surrounding tissue in saliva as well. Meanwhile, at the other end, Melora's neck bulged as Blake forced his shaft through it - apparently not content to simply wait while she licked up and down the long instrument. Working his cock into her throat certainly got the job done faster, but Anitra rather hoped he'd be quick about it - already, Melora's eyes were glazing over with lack of air. Her body required an abundance of it at the moment, and her breathing had been quite fast before it was blocked by an intruding meat-log, so she clearly wouldn't be able to hold her breath for as long as she normally managed. All the same, she was making no move to push him back or signal her discomfort - apparently content to die choking on her master's cock if that was to be her fate.

Anitra, for her part, rather suspected that this wasn't Blake's intention, and that he may just not have really thought about how Melora's present situation might impact her oral abilities. One quick, telepathic message later, he confirmed this suspicion by rapidly retreating, leaving Melora to cough and gasp in several large lungfuls of air once her throat was empty once more. "That will do for lubrication... a bit of friction won't kill you, after all." he rumbled, masterfully covering his mistake. Certainly, the layer of spit didn't extend much past the halfway-point of his cock, but considering how busy Direza had been at the other end, it probably_would_ suffice.

The drow in question had to scamper out of the way as Blake shifted his massive body around, however, and after taking a moment to ascertain that there wasn't anything left for her to do now, she slipped off the nest. While Blake drove his cock into the waiting orifice, causing the freshly-lubricated and relaxed sphincter to stretch wide and taut around his girth with habitual ease, she retrieved the folded and boiled linens that had been laid out nearby, and carefully positioned them between Melora's slightly shuddery knees before returning to Anitra's side.

"You really have come a long way, my pet..." Anitra whispered to her while watching Blake start to move. "You've grown so accustomed to eating ass that even sticking your tongue up Melora's steadily-oozing rear fails to even make you flinch! Why, I remember when such an ordeal would have had you grimacing, dry-heaving and begging for a chance to rinse out your mouth..." Direza blushed prettily in response - whether at the compliment or the reminiscence. "I hope to erase those memories with many years of faithful service, mistress..." she muttered quietly, hinting at which it was. "And I will happily spend every last one of them with the taste of ass fresh upon my tongue."

Anitra grinned at this heartfelt declaration, eyes still glued to the nest. Blake wasn't holding anything back - he'd forced his huge cock into Melora's eagerly-awaiting asshole right to the root from the word go, and now he was pounding her with something that closely resembled his full, draconic strength. It was exactly the kind of bone-shaking, tooth-rattling all-out pounding he'd refused to give _her_during the last several months of her pregnancy, never mind during the birth itself. Every thrust made the three heavy weights dangling from her nipples and clit jump and sway, pulling all three points this way and that.

As Anitra watched, his neck curved downwards to bring him face-to-face with the sweating, moaning, constantly-shaking mare underneath, before - with a wink in her direction - he closed the distance and opened his mouth. As his long, agile tongue reached into Melora's wide-open, panting mouth, caressing its soft insides, her eyes - previously half-closed as she weathered the constant waves of pain, pleasure and everything in-between - flew open for a second before sliding close again over a look of sheer, mindless ecstasy. Smoothly scaled lips met soft and pliable ones, muzzle fitting neatly into muzzle with the requisite ninety-degree turn, and a loud, slobbery, thoroughly passionate makeout ensued while her panting breath continued to burst through the cracks.

This trick - using his agile neck to kiss his significantly smaller partner while railing them doggy-style - was one Blake occasionally used on Anitra for their more passionate encounters. Using it on Melora was rare in the extreme - indeed, she could not recall ever seeing it before. In fact, he basically never kissed her in the first place, generally preferring to apply ruthless torture rather than soft tenderness - but looking at her now, it was pretty clear that she didn't mind this exception. Also, the shape of her face made it work a good bit more elegantly than when he did it with_her_, Anitra reluctantly concluded.

Between the violent ass-fucking, the wildly-swinging weights attached to her most tender parts, and her beloved master granting her such a clear statement of favor, Melora was clearly in a passion-fogged paradise now, far beyond the reach of any birth-related discomforts. Looking at her, Anitra felt her own cheeks heat up, and as she finally managed to tear her eyes away from the loud display of unleashed passion, she saw that Direza was similarly riveted - her face already colored reddish-gray with the blush of arousal.

Recalling what they'd been talking about before the escalating view inexorably pulled in their attentions, Anitra grinned and licked her lips. "You certainly seem to be accepting your designated role as a semi-pro ass-eater with admirable ease..." she taunted throatily, drawing the drow's attention back around. "Makes me wonder just how bad the flavor of Melora's overworked rear can really be. C'mere and let me have a taste of it..." With one hand still cradling her son who, sated from a recent feeding, was sleeping through the grunts and repeated scale-on-flesh collisions without apparent trouble, she reached up with her remaining hand to grab the back of Direza's head, pulling her down and around.

Kissing wasn't as uncommon in their general interaction as it was in Blake and Melora's, but it was still a rare treat and generally reserved for 'rewards', especially since Direza had proven capable of reaching orgasm purely from that. And even so, their spit-swapping was rarely as hungry and greedy as this - lips digging into lips with desperate eagerness, tongues reaching, dancing, wrestling together, every breath of air escaping between them loaded with lusty moans - even at the best of times. And the partially-turned position of Direza's head meant that Anitra could continue to watch the other two past her sculpted cheekbones...

Maybe the reason their kiss had suddenly acquired such a concentrated payload of sheer passion was that Blake and Melora's display served as a strong reminder of just what they all had together. A reminder that underneath all the torture, domination, humiliation and cum-pickling there flowed a river of genuine, shared emotions. Love, or something very much like it, bound them all together, making all the carnal acrobatics they got up to so endlessly more meaningful than if Direza and Melora had been nothing more than the obedient sex-slaves they probably resembled from the outside.

Anitra found herself briefly reminded of that time she'd purchased an actual, honest-to-goodness sex-slave in order to help keep Blake occupied while she was off infiltrating a sultan's harem. Despite happening to luck into a human woman who could actually handle his girth - sort of, in the sense that she survived an encounter with his cock, if only just barely - he'd grown tired of the woman well before she made it back. She rather doubted that he'd ever really thought about why, let alone put it into words, even within his own mind, but she knew that it ultimately came down to the fact that there'd been nothing behind that slave-girl's - what was her name again, anyway? - obedience save fear. Well, at first, anyway. From the way things had looked when she _did_return, the slave's motivations had shifted somewhat in the direction of 'unhinged obsession and/or desperation' by then. Either way, a poor substitute for a genuine, abiding, unconditional love.

Most of her mind was busy marveling at how sexy Direza's lips felt pressed against her own despite the sour taste that lingered on the dancing tongue between them, weighing this against the increasingly insistent throbbing of her pussy - but a detached, logical part of it continued to contemplate such lofty considerations. It then went on to ponder that regardless of Blake's difficulties handling, recognizing and naming his own emotions, Melora definitely didn't have any such problems. If she tended to declare her loyalty, devotion and obedience towards Blake rather than her love, it was clearly just because she knew that the later would make him ever-so-slightly uncomfortable. Even if he were to suddenly decide that he was quite done with the whole 'sadism' thing, and stopped catering to her masochistic desires - heck, even if he somehow got tired of her and started treating her purely as a regular servant, without any sexual dimensions whatsoever - she'd never leave him, never even consider it. In that respect, Anitra had to tip her nonexistent hat to the mare, recognizing her as a true sister-wife - not one inch less devoted to the subject of their shared interest than she was. If anything, Melora had an edge on her - she wasn't sure if she could have accepted being second in Blake's regard as readily as Melora had.

The sounds of two equally passionate makeout-sessions resounded in the room until, eventually, Direza found herself pushed lower - sliding into her customary position between Anitra's legs with practiced elegance and hungry eagerness. While Anitra's ass had seen a lot more cock-traffic lately, her pussy had basically been Direza's sole domain for just as long - the recent baby-shower aside, the highly skilled drow had been Anitra's only viable source of vaginal stimulation. Occasionally, this had meant donning the Ring of Priap and then driving her long, slender dick into Anitra's waiting peehole, filling her bladder with a load of thin, watery cum - but mostly, it had meant lots and lots and lots of cunnilingus, with a side-order of frequent pee-drinking.

Anitra had tried to make the most of it. She'd obtained a special harness for the occasion - or, rather, two complimentary ones. One was a simple four-point ring-harness that connected Direza's wrists and ankles behind her as she knelt before her throne-like chair, while the other was a more original head-harness - which, by way of straps attached to Anitra's thighs and waist, kept Direza's face solidly and immovably embedded in her pussy, breathing in her feminine musk while her nose rubbed across Anitra's clit. Considering that Anitra had - during the later parts of her pregnancy - often spent long periods in her chair while rising only twice per day or so for necessary toilet-visits, Direza had sometimes spent as much as eight to ten hours at a time in this position... and yet never failed to show regret when she was 'released'.

That pregnancy had ended now, however, and over the past couple of days, Direza had been forced to go cold turkey on her well-nurtured addiction to Anitra's pussy as her mistress eagerly reintroduced her freshly vacated womb to Blake's cock. This was thus the first time since the birth that Direza had been offered a chance to enjoy her favorite meal, and she threw herself into it like a starving child at an all-you-can-eat buffet. Anitra moaned and leaned back as she enjoyed the familiar flow of pleasure radiating out from her expertly stimulated genitals, while simultaneously watching the show. Soon, the first orgasm hit her mind like an explosion of white light, and as she gasped for air, she deliberately allowed her bladder-control to slip - providing Direza with her favorite drink to go with the meal.

Generally, watching Blake in action didn't trigger Anitra's voyeuristic tendencies - it just made her feel annoyed that she wasn't the one getting down and dirty with him - but in this case, it somehow worked just fine. Maybe because she wasn't really looking at_him_ so much as Melora. He was still ramming her with unrestrained force, and indeed seemed determined to continue doing so until he literally fucked the foal right out of her, and the impact was clear to see. Between this almighty pounding, the dangling weights and the still-ongoing kiss, it was hard to tell which was coming more frequently - the contractions or the orgasms. Underneath her tautly-stretched asshole, her pussy was fully dilated - with lubricating juices dewing fully-engorged labia that did not seem to know whether they were preparing for an entrance or an exit.

Eventually,finally, it happened - whether hurried along by the non-stop orgasms or not. Melora's bulbous belly seemed to subtly shift, a deep groan resounded from her throat, and her whole body went rigid. Two minutes later, a tiny, wet muzzle emerged from between her legs. Five minutes after that, the entire foal emerged and plopped down to the waiting platform of clean linens, gleaming with amniotic fluids and sending the clit-weight swinging wildly on the way. Throughout that span of time, Blake never stopped fucking her, and indeed seemed to be dragging the foal out along with his pull-back on every thrust - and Melora seemed trapped in a permanent state of blinding, orgasmic ecstasy, her eyes glazed over and all her muscles apparently locked in place. The pain of birth seemed to have hit her masochistic mind every bit as forcefully as that time when Blake had tried experimenting his way to her perfect pleasure/pain balance...

It was only when Blake's insistent thrusting stopped and he pulled back - leaving her ass gaping craterlike in his absence, cum pooling at the bottom like the dregs in a tipped-over barrel - that her clenched muscles finally relaxed and she fell over on her side with a deep, satisfied sigh. While he rose on his hind-legs to see better, she completed the revolution in order to wind up flat on her back, even as she collected her newborn, lifting it unto her now-empty but still rather rotund belly. The foal was noticeably bigger and more developed than Jet had been upon birth - a large, sturdy infant, whose wet coat seemed to be a lighter shade of creamy brown than Melora's own. Well, what was visible of the coat, anyway - considering the infant's position when Blake pulled out, the foal had been liberally coated by the surge of cum that emerged from Melora's gaping anus at that point.

Whether out of fetishistic desire, racial instinct, or some combination of the two, Melora elected to lick her newborn clean rather than resort to a more conventional application of warm water and sterilized cloth. The foal certainly seemed enlivened by the motherly tongue, soon squirming in her grasp and, after a few wet coughs, breathing steadily with hardly a cry. Once it was clean, she swaddled it in the prepared linens and placed it upon her chest - while casting a questioning look towards the looming Blake, who blinked in sudden realization and grandly declared "Ah... you may remove the weights now... and the hooks. Hopefully, your foal won't develop a taste for blood from having a bit of it mixed in her first meal!" Melora just smiled softly and removed the nipple-hooks with hands that were only slightly shaky, leaving the one that still hung heavily from her clit until she'd gotten the newborn foal's eager mouth wrapped around one of the now metal-free nubs.

As she did this, Blake's eyes followed the umbilical - still unclamped - which led from the belly of the swaddled foal and down between Melora's legs, disappearing into the gaping hole between them. Blood was oozing from a number of minor tears along the inner labia, and the orifice still seemed to be trying to gather the energy to start pulling itself together again. A sudden look of intense thoughtfulness came over him, and as he licked his scaly lips, the look morphed into one of lustful eagerness. "Now, this is an opportunity not to be missed..." he mused, seemingly to himself - then he leaned forwards again, and Melora's eyes widened as she realized his intent.

He was holding his body up high enough that there was no danger that her foal would be crushed, but that seemed about the limit of his consideration. His cock was caked with cum at the tip and otherwise lined with a mixture of saliva and ass-slime as he aimed it directly at her messy, gaping pussy. The whole thing had to be a mass of stinging pain - the tears near the entrance likely being only the tip of the iceberg, considering that her entire birth-canal had been forced to stretch around the sizable foal while her abdomen was already partially occupied - and a nasty vaginal infection seemed not so much likely as inevitable under the circumstances. She was exhausted from the birth and the monolithic orgasm that had accompanied it, and her newborn foal was eagerly sucking their first meal from her sore and bleeding tits. So, of course, she eagerly spread her legs, the smile she flashed up at her master clearly full of appreciation for all the attention he was so graciously showing her today.

Blake's cock slipped into her pussy with absurd ease. Thick though his tool was, it rather paled in comparison to the foal that had just vacated the premises, after all! But as he followed the umbilical deeper inside her, he finally encountered some small resistance - and as her eyes widened in shock and pain, he pushed onward, through it. "Hah! Finally!" he crowed as his groin pressed flat against hers, forcing her legs to spread at painfully wide angle. "At long last, you have succeeded where you failed during our first encounter... splendid!"

Indeed, this was a first. Blake often penetrated her ass right to the root, but her pussy simply didn't have the space - half a foot or so of shaft was invariably left out of in the cold as his cockhead reached an impenetrable barrier. After all, she was no DragonRider, so her cervix would be hard-pressed to permit the entrance of something the thickness of a little finger, never mind the arm-thick shaft Blake was packing! On an average day, anyway. Right now, that cervix gaped wide-open after the birth, and while it probably had started pulling itself back into shape once the foal's massive bulk had finished passing through it, it remained far looser than it had ever been before. Loose enough for Blake to push his conical cockhead through it by main force, stretching it agonizingly taut around his girth.

But even though her body no doubt was doing its best to try and let her know that she was being literally torn apart from the inside out, the tears that now ran down her face clearly weren't from the pain... "Oh... my lord... this truly is the happiest day of my life..." she said haltingly, voice thick, as her hands shakily continued to hold her newborn in place. Indeed, based on the tremors that were running through her now, Melora's incredible strength and stamina had finally been exhausted - so it was probably a good thing that she didn't need to hold herself up anymore. She could just lie there, on her back, and let him work.

Even so, her mind was apparently still functional - after a fashion. The constant assault of pleasure and pain, combined with the intense events of the day so far, seemed to have left her in something resembling a drunk daze - mumbling quietly as Blake began to fuck her once more. Quiet though it was, though, his sharp ears easily caught her words. "Please, my lord, my love, alter my body as you wish, twist every part of me to serve your needs, sculpt me around your virile staff, around your desires, and cut away all that displeases you until there is nothing left of me save that which answers your wishes..." and on and on and on. Needless to say, this display of masochistic devotion only spurred him on.

Certainly, the 'sculpting' part seemed rather relevant. As Blake pulled back, Melora's pussy followed - turning itself inside-out as it emerged from between her thick, blood-stained labia. Apparently, her cervix gripped his cock so tightly that it could not slip back and forth through it - so instead it, and her womb, simply followed along whenever he moved. Indeed, even when he pulled back far enough that he would normally have slipped out altogether, her uterus - wrapped snugly around the tip of his shaft - simply prolapsed out of her body, inside-out and sticking to his cockhead like a glove.

Far from being deterred, however, this novel experience only seemed to spur Blake on. He pounded her pussy just as violently as he'd recently reamed her ass, with every thrust going all the way home - forcing her into a perfect split while rubbing his crotch-scales against her still bleeding clit. While her foal drank deeply from her milk-filled jugs, another orgasm began to build within her despite her physical and mental exhaustion - driven, no doubt, by the sensation of her body being almost literally torn apart by her beloved's cock.

Indeed, like the last few drops of juice being squeezed from an already thoroughly pulped fruit simply by applying overwhelming pressure, a full three orgasmic convulsions were wrung from her shuddering body while she clutched her newborn to her chest, the umbilical still connecting the foal to the pink, prolapsing mess between her legs, its far end clearly caught between the tight ring of her cervix and Blake's girthy tip. Even for him, lasting that long was rare - but then, he'd cum a couple of times during the lengthy anal session beforehand, and intriguing though this new experience was, it _did_lack a certain 'tightness' to which he'd grown accustomed.

The long wait, however, helped his balls work up a nice, voluminous load - so when he finally did cum, Melora's softening midsection swiftly returned to its previous, tautly-stretched state. Her womb and belly-skin alike were still loose, expanding easily under the mounting, internal pressure as she groaned lustily. The bulge on her belly wobbled back and forth with the tiny jerks of Blake's cock during the final stages of his orgasm, and then moved down towards her groin - as the last one had less than an hour earlier - as he began to pull out.

Between the internal pressure pushing back against his cockhead and her once again filled-up womb getting caught on the internal musculature, Blake was finally able to pull his cockhead out of her cervix's vise-like grip - albeit at a point when half a foot worth of her pussy had already been pulled outside again. As his cock finally slipped out with a slimy, sucking sound, a surge of his now-released cum followed close behind to leak out of the pink extrusion between her legs and pool on the magically stain-resistant furs beneath.

Taking a step back, he cast a critical eye over Melora's near-catatonic form, noting her obvious exhaustion and the pink cast of the escaping jizz. Turning his head towards his wife, he gave an apologetic shrug. "Terribly sorry, my dear, but might I borrow Direza for a bit? I think Melora here needs a hand, and maybe a healing-spell or two..." Anitra had no objections to this. Between the view she'd been treated to and Direza's eager tongue, she'd reached a lovely handful of orgasms - clearly not as many as Melora, but enough to sate her for now.

Nudging the submissive drow away from her pussy, she waved her towards the pair on the nest. "...and when you're done helping Melora, I believe Blake's cock is in dire need of a good cleaning!" she said by way of a send-off, making Direza reflexively swallow. Indeed, the arm-sized tool in question was, by now, caked with a mixture of saliva, ass-slime, cum, blood, and probably some traces of amniotic fluid. Still, it could keep for a bit - Melora was the first priority, and Direza quickly dove in between her legs to inspect the damage.

Wincing at the sight of the many minor tears that covered the exposed vaginal tissue, she shook her head. "I need to stuff it back inside before I heal it... otherwise, it'll wind up permanently detached..." she mumbled, and started trying to get a good grip before Melora's voice - rough and weak from fatigue - stopped her. "You need to pull the placenta out first... otherwise, it'll just prolapse again when you do... just use the umbilical, it's plenty sturdy..." Looking slightly uncertain, Direza nonetheless did as she was told - getting a good grip on the slippery umbilical, clear and empty already, its role played out, she pulled firmly while trying her best to hold the prolapsed pussy in place with her other hand.

This proved to be somewhat of a fool's errand - despite Direza's best efforts, Melora's pussy just about turned itself all the way inside-out before the placenta finally emerged along with a hefty surge of fresh dragon-cum. It was bigger and thicker than the one Anitra had produced a few days earlier, and looked rather battered but still intact. "Surprised it wasn't torn to pieces..." Direza muttered, seemingly to herself, as she cleaned it away along with the pool of bloodied cum. Melora laughed weakly. "That's just how it goes for us horse-people. Placenta's big and sturdy and rarely manages to get out on its own. Usually have to pull them out by the umbilical afterwards... sometimes you have to stick something up there and rummage around to get it to come loose."

That made some kind of sense, in Anitra's view, considering how big and developed their foals were, and how quickly they grew. Obviously, a greater flow of nutrients and blood compared to a human pregnancy was needed! Blake, meanwhile, made a rather odd face as he watched Direza clean up as well as finally clamp and cut the umbilical - which did, indeed, prove rather tough to break, even with a knife. "You know, I completely forgot that was still in there..." he said conversationally. "Probably for the best. Might've put a bit of a dampener on my spirits if I _had_recalled."

With this out of the way, Direza could finally push Melora's womb and pussy back inside her - by way of what was, essentially, a full-armed fisting - and then apply a potent healing-spell to both repair the minor tears and, hopefully, get the whole thing to attach itself properly inside her again. She did, however, warn that more care would be needed. "Healing salve, internally applied, probably several times over the next few days..." she declared while carefully not looking accusingly up at Blake. "With a bit of luck, that'll stop the infection in its tracks."

Blake, seemingly unbothered by this implied criticism, had moved off to Melora's side, and as Direza settled in for her second task - which probably held an extra edge of humiliation considering her current disapproval of him - he grinned down at the foal that now lay half-asleep against her chest, having already finished a meal big enough to make one of her tits visibly smaller than the other. "Ah, my dear, I nearly forgot to congratulate you on your foal... have you settled on a name for him - or her - yet?" She smiled weakly up at him and chuckled. "Her. I made sure of that. Couldn't leave it to chance."

This was enough to raise an eyebrow despite her thin, sleepy voice. "How do you mean?" he queried, and she readily answered. Apparently, immediately after she'd first been impregnated, she'd made use of her newfound literacy and the access afforded her as Blake's personal servant to search the Library of the Perverse for a way to affect the gender of her unborn child. She'd found it, too, sure enough - a relatively simple alchemical concoction which, if imbibed sufficiently early in a pregnancy, could take the element of chance out of procreation and decide the sex of the child. So she'd gone to one of the Utopia's many alchemists, and had him make her a dose of the female version of that potion.

"Nice and simple..." Blake commented with eyebrows still raised. "But that still raises the question of why you went to such lengths to ensure you had a daughter." Melora's smile took on a strange kind of morose sadness, and she broke eye-contact with her master in order to lean her head back and stare up at the distant ceiling. "You will live for millennia, my lord..." she said quietly. "Lady Anitra, too. And Direza will be with you for centuries yet. But I have only decades to give. This, then, is the immortality afforded to us short-lived species - legacy. I will pass down my will, my skills, my cause, to my daughter, so that she may carry it onward after I'm gone." Her voice had strengthened with conviction as she talked, despite the lead-like fatigue that clearly still weighed down her body.

"When she gets old enough, I'll start training her so that she might eventually take my place." she continued steadily "I cannot serve you for centuries, Lord Blake... but if you allow it, I will_serve you for _generations. As for her name... it shall be 'Melora'." Looking down at her, eyes unreadable, Blake slowly nodded - his face serious for once. "If that is what you desire... so be it. It is every mother's prerogative to raise her child as she believes best, and if your daughter one day wishes to enter my service, I will welcome her - that much I promise. But I will never ask more of her than she is willing to give, and if she should decide to take a different path, that will be her prerogative."

A single tear ran from Melora's eye as she nodded, holding her daughter tightly enough that the newborn foal gave a complaining mewl. "Thank you, my lord. I will not disappoint you, and neither will my daughter." With a sigh, Blake shrugged. "You never have, my pet, so I should not wonder if you are right. However, I must say, having two Meloras around would get a bit confusing. How about we call this little one 'Mel' for now, at least until _you_don't need the full name anymore?" Needless to say, the new mother had no complaints on that count, and soon afterwards both mother and child were sleeping soundly - while Anitra contemplated just how neatly Melora had solved the lifespan-problem that she herself had pondered on several occasions.

Two months later, Anitra instead found herself pondering how any woman could possibly manage to handle an infant alone. She knew that it happened, at times - single mothers with no family or significant support-network - but how was beyond her. Indeed, she was well aware that her own experience of motherhood matched that of the very flakiest parts of society's upper crust - queens and empresses, high noble ladies and the wives of filthy-rich merchant princes. She had servants at her beg and call, wet nurse included, ready to handle all the nastier parts of raising an infant. She had everything she needed in terms of tools, furniture and supplies, without the slightest worry about expenses or resources. The vast majority of newly-baked mothers made do with _significantly_less.

And yet, it seemed plenty demanding to her. Sure, Melora and Direza could handle just about anything needed, but Jet was_her_ child, dammit, and she didn't want him to be in any doubt about who to call 'mom' once he got old enough to try. Maybe she didn't change him, but she bounced him, held him, baby-talked to him, fed him when she was able, tucked him into his crib and even hummed half-remembered lullabies from her own childhood to him. And when he cried out in some ill-defined discomfort, the sound seemed to reach right inside her to grab her by the instincts, even if she was sleeping like a log at the time, pulling her out of blessed unconsciousness to rush to his side rather than letting Melora or Direza deal with it. Indeed, as Ursula had prophesied, she soon became very fond of the 'sleepy-time' draught that the sea-witch had provided, once she'd run it past a few other alchemists and reassured herself that it was just as harmless as promised...

Still, if pressed, she'd probably have to admit that part of the reason she was feeling a bit worn out was that she'd been trying to balance motherhood with not-being-pregnant-any-longer-hood. Her body had snapped back into shape with remarkable speed - even her belly was back to its old, flat-and-muscular shape within no more than a couple of days, far faster than Melora's mundane recovery. The pains, discomforts and swollen joints were all gone, like mist vanishing before the noonday sun. Melora was less fortunate, her body recovering at a much more sedate pace, but then she'd never been as bothered in the first place as Anitra.

The point was, Anitra could once again run, jump, climb, fight, and have highly acrobatic and vigorous sex involving womb-deep pussy penetrations. And she wanted to do all of those things, and more,now! Well, maybe not fighting - for now, she was focusing on getting herself back into full fighting fit, running through some basic sword-drills, getting used to the weight of BlackFire in her hand once more. There wasn't any master swordsmen of other martial teachers in the Utopia - such arts were not among those that the dragons desired to foster, obviously - but that was probably for the best. Somehow, Anitra doubted that her own 'style' of swordsmanship - mashed together from the observations and hard-earned experiences she'd accumulated during her adventures, and heavily based around her superhuman speed and strength - would gel well with more traditional techniques. So instead, she just ran through combat-drills using illusory monsters and foes conjured up by a skilled illusionist who enjoyed the practical exercise just as much as she did.

Whatever the cause, however, the fact was that however much she felt her heart melt every time she watched Jet and Mel slumber in their crib - usually hugging the two adorable stuffed toy Tiffany had gifted them tightly - she was rather starting to wish she could take a break from it all. But alas, even though she technically could just decide that she felt like taking a vacation, and run off with Blake while leaving the kids to Melora and Direza for a while, she really couldn't bring herself to do it. It would just seem far too lazy and, well... frivolous! This, she decided, was the problem that came from actually caring about your servants. You started to care what they thought of you, too, which rather prevented you from taking full advantage of the services they could provide!

Granted, when Jet was sleeping peacefully, snuggled up to his larger, more equine crib-mate, she could only smile warmly as she hovered over them, feeling all warm and fuzzy inside - and it was while doing this that she found her attention dragged away by the remote sounds of a commotion. Commotions weren't generally a thing that happened_in the Utopia. The dragons were all unfailingly polite to one another, as if they were afraid that any overly vociferous argument would cause them all to spontaneously degenerate back into squabbling, color-coded tribes - and nobody _else wanted to make a fuss because, well, the dragons would rather they didn't.

Blake's head rose from the tome he'd been studying, eyes narrowing with concern as he heard the distant sounds. "I've got a bad feeling about this..." he mumbled, rising from the nest. "Based on the timing... dammit. I was afraid of this." Without further explanation than this, he made for the balcony and from there, the air. "If you're planning to follow me, make sure you're fully geared!" he called over his shoulder at his mystified wife as he spread his wings and rose swiftly on the reliable convection-winds that rose from the crater-lake every day.

Used to be, Anitra had kept up with whatever matters the Council was currently debating, via Blake's involvement - but lately, there'd been so many other interesting things to do together that she'd rather let her attention slip. Clearly, he had some idea of what was going on, and if it was something dangerous, she didn't want to distract him with telepathic questions. She did, however, want to stand by his side - that was her duty as a DragonRider, after all! And getting 'fully geared' wasn't hard - relishing the fact that it fit her again, she'd gone back to wearing her armor as the closest thing she had to 'regular clothes', so all she really needed to do was to collect her sword, slap the sheath against her back to attach it, and get going. "Look after Jet for me!" she called to Melora and Direza, only to see the two of them already preparing themselves for combat - which mostly meant that Direza was helping Melora into her impressive suit of armor, since _she_only needed to grab the platinum amulet that hung around her neck to be fully battle-ready.

Blake whirled through the air, sharp eyes scanning for the source of the noise. Ahh... there it was. Pretty much where he'd expected - the castle's central plaza, with its huge, elaborate mosaic floor. A number of dragons were gathered there, and in their midst... a black shape. Flapping his wings powerfully, he threw himself towards the plaza, barely clearing one of the castle's soaring spires, rising above a rooftop, and finally plunging down towards the open space in the middle even as its current resident emitted another loud roar.

The figure wheeled around to face him as he touched down - not surprising, since he hadn't bothered to try and land quietly. It was a black dragon - the first he'd ever seen outside of mirrors and drug-fueled dreams. He looked angry, frightened, confused... overwhelmed. The dragons lining the perimeter of the plaza mostly just looked frightened and confused, unsure of why their honored guest was acting so aggressively. They didn't understand. Of course they didn't.

Blake did. He'd supported their search for other blacks - of course he had! But he'd also wondered how most of them might react to seeing the Utopia, and that concern had only grown since he'd heard the news that they had successfully located one and sent out an envoy to invite him to the Utopia. Apparently, his worries had been well-founded. "Calm yourself, brother!" he rumbled as the newcomer hissed angrily at him, baring his fangs. "There is no need for such behavior here."

The new arrival was keeping low, legs bent, neck coiled - a defensive position, making him ready to dodge or attack in any direction as needed. His eyes flickered around, unwilling to focus on any one thing for too long. Blake, meanwhile, rose to his full size, stretching out his neck and standing tall - exposing himself, against all instinct, to demonstrate to the newcomer that he was entirely unconcerned about any attack. The example did not have the calming effect he had hoped for, but at least it made the other black focus squarely on him for a bit.

"You..." the dragon hissed. "You are... the 'Champion' they told me about..." His words were halting, rough around the edges... indicative that he hadn't had much opportunity to practice talking until recently. No surprise there. This dragon hadn't had Inferand to practice on. He hadn't had anybody, that was clear. Like every other black dragon, he'd been ejected from his home the moment he broke his shell - his parent's joy at having an egg hatch turning to ash in their claws once they saw his 'curse'. Left alone in the wilderness as mere whelps, they were inevitably short on conversational partners.

Most dragons would likely never learn how to talk at all, under those conditions - heck, they probably wouldn't survive. Hatchlings were rather helpless for the first decade of their lives, and even once they got their claws under them, they remained more like dumb beasts than anything else for at least another couple - depending on race. Reds often didn't start talking until their seventies or eighties, but they were the slowest to develop - the average was forty or so. But blacks... well, it rather made sense, knowing what he did now, that they were such early bloomers. Their creator clearly hadn't been inclined to wait five decades for a set of fully-mature killing-machines to fly out and slaughter gods in his name. So even left on their own fresh out of the egg, they could talk, and fight, and survive...

But staying sane was another matter. Lucky as he'd been, Blake still remembered his earliest days with dreadful clarity - the resounding solitude, the lingering sense of loss, the vague knowledge that he was an accursed monster, hated by every other living thing. Animals fled from his mere scent, two-legged creatures shouted and screamed and brandished weapons, and other dragons... they were a source of terror. They would kill him if they found him, of that he'd felt certain - whether this had actually been true or not was immaterial to the fear. It had taken the endlessly patient Inferand _years_to win his trust - before that, he'd been nothing more than the exact kind of feral beast that human adventurers recognized and feared black dragons as.

And this young fellow... he hadn't had the benefit of those years, or the decades that followed, where Inferand had taught him the things that most dragons learned from their parents. He'd spent his whole life alone, interacting with other beings only through violence - be it as hunter or hunted. When a strange dragon had approached him with promises of a better life, his desperation had apparently overcome his paranoia... but now that he was here, the reality of being surrounded by dozens of other dragons was overwhelming his senses. He didn't know how to handle it, so he'd reverted to the one thing that had carried him through until now - power and violence.

Blake nodded, trying his best to exude a sense of calm. "I am indeed - and as the Champion, I guarantee your safety here. You need fear no creature here - indeed, if you would let them, they would happily welcome you and give you everything you desire." The other dragon sneered, eyes flashing. "Nasty traps have tasty bait. I learned that the hard way. Your guarantee is meaningless - you are soft, I can tell! Grown fat off this place! You can't even protect_yourself!"_ He was ranting, contradicting himself within the same sentence, and seemingly didn't even realize it. It was as if his mind simply couldn't comprehend the reality before him, and thus leaped for any possible alternative, grabbing hope of whatever vague assumption would suffice on a moment-to-moment basis.

The other black began to creep slowly sideways, talons skidding across the mosaic floor. Blake remained still, simply following the movement with his head. "You came here, brother - why would you do so if you did not believe at least in the possibility that it may not be a trap? As for protection, there is simply nothing here that I or you need to protect ourselves from." His reply was a nasty, fang-filled grimace that could, in the right lighting, have passed for a smile. "I followed that dragon thinking to turn his trap back on him and then take his hoard for my own once I'd slain him... and since you are the 'Champion' of this place, I guess that means it'll all be mine if I kill you! So much for not having anything to protect yourself from, fool!"

Even as the last word left his jaws, he flung himself at Blake - who had, fortunately, seen that coming a couple of sentences ago. The whirlwind-spell he'd been mentally preparing was unleashed with a single arcane word and a sharp, upwards gesture of his talons, causing a howling gale to suddenly manifest directly beneath him as he spread his wings wide. The wall of whirling winds threw his attacker off balance even as the powerful updraft lifted him_high into the air, out of the way of the attack. "The only fool here is _you, little brother!" He called after his attacker as he soared. "But if you insist on this idiocy, then by all means, come! And see just how 'soft' I am..."

The dragons who had gathered in the plaza to welcome a new honored guest into their midst watched with consternation and horror as the newly-arrived black dragon flung himself into the air in pursuit of their Champion, flames already flickering between his fangs. Those who had wheeled and soared freely among the castle's spires up to that point scattered like a flock of spooked birds as they darted out of the two combatant's way, and as the challenger roared upwards in blind defiance, emitting a mighty gout of incandescent flame, the battle was joined.

Dodging a burst of fire, Blake summoned a thunderbolt by way of reply, sending the burst of raw, electric fury at his foe in the hopes of sending him plummeting paralyzed from the sky. Few things could penetrate a black dragon's magical immunity - but _another_black dragon was one of those things, and his target clearly knew it - nearly colliding with a tower as he dove to avoid it. A barrage of gleaming, magical projectiles soon rose from the other dragon, and Blake immediately recognized it - Arcane Missiles, capable of homing in on their target with unerring accuracy, the perfect counter for a swift and agile foe.

But he had the perfect counter for that, of course. A wall of mirrors manifested around him as he chanted the requisite words, and as the missiles impacted the silvery half-sphere, they were reflected back on their source - now arcing through the air towards their originator, who was still clawing for altitude, trying to neutralize Blake's current advantage in that department. Eyes widening, he conjured a Magic Mirror of his own... only to roar in pain and confusion as the barrage of dark, magical energy burst straight through it and hit him head on.

Blake couldn't help but grin. Anitra had teased him on occasion about his newfound studiousness, but if he had learned one thing from both their adventures and her own subsequent hunt for answers regarding their shared origin, it was that knowledge truly was_power. Knowing your own strengths and limits could mean the difference between victory and death on the battlefield - and if your opponent _lacked those things, your victory was all but assured. For example, while he'd known how to cast Magic Mirror virtually from the day he broke his shell, it was only after actually_studying_ the spell, as it was known to regular magic-wielders, that he learned of its weakness: It could not reflect a spell that had already been reflected by a similar effect. Something to do with wavelengths and resonance - that part wasn't important. What was important was knowing that if an opponent bounced your own spell back at you, the worst thing you could do was to try and follow suit.

Still, passing through the Magic Mirror had taken some of the edge off the Arcane Missiles, and they weren't very powerful in the first place, as attacks went. Against the small, agile targets they were meant for, they could be plenty devastating - but against a full-grown dragon, even without benefit of magical resistance, all they could really do was to inflict some pain and contusions while knocking their target off-balance. That alone would have been enough, mind, if_killing_ his opponent had been his goal - had he capitalized on that moment of lost equilibrium with a burst of dragonflame or a dive followed by a devastating flurry of attacks from his talons and fangs, his opponent would already be plunging towards the castle below, streaming smoke or blood respectively.

But that wasn't what he was after, and if he'd tried to follow up with a disabling spell, that would have bounced off the Magic Mirror just fine. So instead, he used that moment to attach a Sphere of Silence to his target, leaving both his roar of anger and pain and his next attempt at spellcasting to disappear unheard into the aether. Unfortunately, this only seemed to enrage the dragon further - and now he was 'reduced' to only being able to use his most deadly weapons, namely his razor-sharp talons and his fiery breath.

An objective observer - a critter currently in short supply - would likely have commented on how oddly balanced the fight was. Blake was clearly the better combatant - he had more experience fighting genuinely threatening foes, from a towering, demonic Glabrezu to a small army of dedicated and experienced Dragonslayers, and indeed two golden dragons. The fact that he hadn't always come out on top_in those fights, at least not without a lot of outside help, had only ensured that he had a fine appreciation for his own limitations and weaknesses - and that he knew how to compensate for them. His opponent, meanwhile, had been living a feral life - preying on travelers and isolated settlements, perhaps occasionally fighting a lesser monster for territorial rights or facing off against a group of adventurers who weren't _quite prepared for the challenge of facing a black dragon. He was used to being the biggest bully on the block, in other words, and had never before faced a true peer.

Countering this was the fact that Blake was trying to disable his opponent, not kill him - while he had no such restraint, and went for Blake with open bloodthirst. Deadly violence was all he knew - it was what had kept him alive so far. Confused and overwhelmed by the way his worldview had been flipped upside down by the revelations of the Utopia, he was falling back on it with gusto, relishing in the familiar rush of combat. Rather than forcing him to rethink his stance, the way Blake repeatedly swatted down his attacks only pushed him further towards the edge, heightening his fury and desperation. It seemed, for a while, that the battle could only end in the death of one of the combatants - either Blake would finally make a misstep and open himself up to a killing blow from his opponent, or he'd finally run out of patience and give up his attempts to find a non-lethal end to the battle.

In the end, that last option seemed to be the final conclusion. After wheeling aside to avoid another deadly burst of flaming breath, Blake restabilized his flight, threw out another quick thunderbolt to force his opponent to focus on defense for a second, and started drawing some fairly complex designs in the air with his talons. "Enough of this foolishness. This ends now!" he growled, before shouting a complex phrase in the language of the arcane. His opponent's eyes widened as the air around him seemed to turn to treacle. His wingbeats slowed to the point of nearly stopping, and his limbs seemed to struggle to move even a millimeter. And yet, he wasn't plummeting through the air either - hanging suspended, instead, like a butterfly impaled upon a giant pin.

Tucking in his wings, Blake dispelled the Sphere of Silence he'd applied during the opening moves of the fight and went into a dive - aimed not at his foe, but at a point a dozen yards or so in front of him. Once he'd gone below his frozen opponent's altitude, his wings snapped open again and the dive turned into an upwards dash, using all the speed he'd just built up to slam into his foe just as the Time Stop spell wore off. His talons pierced the other dragon's chest with immense force, even as the impact of the aerial charge knocked him back, wings flapping uselessly as he fell backwards through the air. Before he could rally himself and apply his own talons and fangs to his attacker, an electric surge ran through him as Blake unleashed a minor thundercrack-spell through his already-embedded talons. The electric surge rushed through his body, unimpeded by his scales, and his heart skipped a beat or two as all his muscles spasmed helplessly.

Even as he fell, he pondered what, exactly, had happened and why he wasn't dead already. He was beaten, certainly, but the talons in his chest hadn't pierced deeply enough to his his lungs or heart, instead lodging themselves largely in his ribcage. Flailing helplessly as he was, however, his foe could finish him off in an instant by tearing out his throat or simply incinerating his head with a gout of flame. Even so, they were falling - faster and faster through the sky, the other dragon's wings being quite insufficient to carry their shared weight, at most sufficing to steer them a bit. Was he about to be impaled on one of the soaring spires of the castle? Even if he wasn't, the impending impact - be it with a rooftop, a courtyard, or even the lake below - would definitely be the last thing he ever felt. At this speed, with another dragon on top of him, the shock of the impact would crush his internal organs. Maybe that was the point, he thought idly as he watched his own wings bend painfully upwards around his useless body, driven by the rushing wind around them. Maybe his killer aimed to preserve his body as intact as possible, so that he could keep it as a trophy - stuffed and mounted, no doubt, like he'd sometimes overheard human hunters talking about doing with the beasts they brought down.

However, as their rapid descent saw them whirling past the upper stories of the castle, something that felt like a pillow of hot air seemed to hit him in the back. The fall slowed, the tumble stabilized, and when they finally smashed into the very same mosaic-floored plaza they had originally taken off from, it was not with lethal force. Enough force to crack dozens of mosaic tiles and a couple of his ribs, as well as leaving him dazed and winded on the floor for several long moments, but not lethal force. Before he could manage to shake off that impact, though, Blake had pulled his talons back out of his chest and instead used them to pin _his_forelegs to the ground. Still struggling to clear his head, he watched blearily as a terrible, fanged maw descended towards his face - and then closed firmly around his own muzzle, hard enough for those fangs to deform the thin scales that covered it. Spellcasting and fiery breath alike had thus been cut off, and as his eyes finally cleared, he was treated to an upside-down view of a pale-skinned, black-haired human woman clad in an armor forged from dragonscales, holding a sword to his face - a sword that shone with an almost blinding amount of churning magical energy as its tip rested just shy of his skull...

"Pay attention now, please..." she said pleasantly, wearing a smile that didn't reach her noticeably inhuman eyes. "The guy who just finished kicking your ass up and down the castle - rather literally - is currently quite busy preventing you from doing any more dumb things, but since we're capable of communicating telepathically, I'll pass on a message from him. It goes: I am about to release your jaws, but if you try to bite, throw a spell or breathe fire, it'll be the last stupid thing you ever do. What this means, for the slow of understanding, is that any further aggression from you will result in you dying. Either because he tears out your throat, or because I ram this sword clear through your skull and the apparently empty space within - depending on which of us is faster off the starting-blocks. That's the message. Blink twice if you understand it." Her voice perked up into a fake-saccharine register at the end, driving home just how little patience was left in the area even more thoroughly than the increasingly stony monologue that had gone before. Swallowing, he felt an unfamiliar chill run up his aching spine and blinked - twice.

Anitra kept her sword where it was as Blake slowly opened his jaws, eyes alert. Both of them had every sense sharpened and ready to detect any move on the newcomer's part to resume hostilities, and both were also perfectly ready to carry through on their threats. But fortunately, it seemed like the other black had finally recognized that he was overmatched, and his head lay still on the ground along with his long, serpentine neck. His eyes, previously afire with a flurry of raging emotions were now dull and flat, as if the storm had passed and left nothing but exhaustion in its wake. After assessing this passive state for a moment or two and judging it not to be faked, Blake proceeded to climb off him altogether. Around them, the other dragons held a respectful distance, save for Argila who, on Anitra's request, had provided the well-timed updraft with her own magic.

"Is he going to be okay?" She whispered, peering over Anitra's shoulder, a look of concern on her face. The black dragon, still flat on his back on the ground, blinked as his sharp ears picked up those words, and then emitted a bark of laughter that immediately rattled off into a pained wheeze. Blake, for his part, scratched his chin and shrugged. "Well, I thought I heard something crack when we 'landed', and that noise just about confirmed it, I'd say. Sounds like our new guest has a cracked rib or two, in addition to being generally rather beat-up... and I'm sure both of his wings are dislocated. Still, nothing that can't be fixed with bandages, splints and plenty of rest."

Despite - or perhaps because - of this glib judgment, the dragon then proceeded to slowly and laboriously roll himself back onto his feet, wincing visibly as one of his wings was caught under his flank in the process. He clearly couldn't fold them properly at the moment. "I've been injured before, and I managed without any of those things..." he grunted, straightening up on legs that were only slightly shaky. Blake raised an eyebrow. "Indeed? You've had two dislocated wings before, and got them back into flying-shape without any outside help? That sounds like a fascinating story! Care to share?"

Glancing across his back, twisting his neck to more closely inspect his wings - which, in addition to their more obvious issue, also sported some nice tears in the wing-leather from the general scuffle - and grimaced. "Well... perhaps not exactly that kind of injury..." he admitted, and an expression somewhere between regret and panic flashed across his face. Dragons hated being grounded - something that happened not infrequently what with their wing-leather being the only really vulnerable parts of their bodies. Other than browns - who couldn't fly in the first place - this trait seemed universal, extending to blacks as well as the other types. And those dislocated wings would almost certainly keep him off the air for quite a bit longer than the average wing-tearing.

A faint smile flashed across Blake's face. "Well, no worries. All three things are easily available here, along with ready hands that can apply those bandages and splints... just as long as you don't bite them. And hey, we're actually talking now, which is progress. So how about we start over, hmm? Perhaps somewhere a bit more private, away from the crowds." A slight tremor went through the newcomer's scales as his head briefly swiveled, taking in all the dragons that lined the rim of the plaza, the windows of the upper floors, and even the rooftops above. For a moment, that old cornered-animal desperation seemed to flare up in his eyes again, and Blake quickly gestured towards one of the large passageways that led from the plaza. "Come along, then - your legs still work, right?"

Keeping his head still with what seemed like deliberate effort, the black dragon obediently followed behind Blake as he entered the castle proper. Anitra hung back for a while, exchanging a few quick, low-pitched words with Argila before following. They didn't have to go far, fortunately. Taking him back to their own Chambers was obviously out of the question, considering that they couldn't be certain whether he was about to fly into another rage - the fact that he was injured wouldn't stop him from causing plenty of destruction before he could be finished off, so they weren't about to bring him anywhere near their son. But the chambers of the Dragon-Council were located conveniently close to the central plaza, and one of the smaller, adjoining chambers was currently in the process of being converted into an antechamber/waiting-room for non-draconic supplicants, diplomats and other relevant personages. The Equus laborers who'd been carrying on their work there even as the fight between blacks started and ended a few dozen yards from them scattered obediently on Blake's request, leaving the room to the three of them.

"So..." Blake started as he settled down primly on the floor, forelegs crossed and wings tucked in. "I gather that you are new to this whole 'conversation' thing, so let's keep it basic for now. I'll ask some questions, you'll answer them, and then you get to ask me_some questions and get answers therefor. Optionally, either one of us may volunteer information relevant to their query. For example: My name is Blake. What is _your name?" The other black dragon stared dumbly at him for a moment, then snorted sharply - followed by a swift intake of breath through his teeth as he winced. "Name? What do I need with a name? There's never been anyone to_call_ me anything so far. Unless 'monster' counts."

Chuckling, Blake shook his head. "No, I'd say that 'monster' is more of an_occupation_ - a job-title, if you will. For a job that I would strongly recommend you leave behind, in search of a more satisfying occupation. Still, I am not surprised that you never bothered to find a name for yourself - I was the same way, when I lived alone. Here, though, you will need one, if only to distinguish yourself from me." The nameless dragon seemed to be about to shrug at this, but then apparently thought better of it and instead just shook his head noncommittally. "Doesn't change the fact that I don't have one. Heck, why don't _you_just gimme a name? You beat me, after all, so you can call me whatever you like."

Blake_did_ shrug, and then nodded. His eyes lingered on the scales that covered the other dragon's back - dusty and scuffed from his harsh impact with the plaza's mosaic floor. "Fair enough. How do you feel about Slate?" Narrowing his eyes, the dragon rolled the name around in his mouth. "Slate. Slaaateee. Hrm." He shrugged, then immediately winced, making it clear that his previous decision to avoid doing that had been the right one. "Serviceable, I suppose. Guess that answers your question. I'm Slate. Go me." Nodding serenely, Blake tipped his head a touch sideways. "Well then, Slate - you've answered my question, after a fashion. Is there anything you'd like to ask in return?"

Slate regarded him for a long moment, then asked - in a guarded voice that seemed to strongly suggest that he wasn't actually expecting an honest answer. "How did you do that thing... at the end of our battle? It was like you just disappeared and then reappeared, way closer and moving way faster. It was clearly a spell, but... not one I know. Every other spell you used was familiar to me, so I... guess I kind of just figured that all us blacks were granted the same set?" Smiling slightly, Blake bobbed his head. "We are. I am not some kind of 'superior' type, born just a little bit more special than you, if that's what you're getting at. You didn't recognize that spell - a handy little thing called 'Time Stop', which slows the passage of time within a small, localized area down to a crawl - because it isn't part of our shared, in-born selection. I learned that spell the hard way - through study, and with the help of skilled teachers. Same way every _other_kind of creature with the brains and talent for it can learn magic."

Lifting one talon, he pointed at Slate. "That list presumably includes_you_, once you get used to using your head instead of your instincts." Grunting, Slate shook his head. "It's nice to know you think so highly of me, but I dunno if I've got the temperament for that kind of study. Normally, I'd also say something about how I doubt anyone here would actually be willing to teach_me after I tried to take over the place, but I get the feeling that if I did, you'd just roll your eyes at me and say something that rounded down to me just not _getting_it. Which I don't. Just what is _up with this place, really?!" Stifling a laugh, Blake raised one eyebrow. "Well, it's actually MY turn to ask... but that is an excellent question, so I think I'll just go ahead and answer it all the same."

Blake spent the next hour explaining the origins, principles and philosophies of the Dragon Utopia - how it had started as a bunch of tribes squabbling over the bounty of the bottomless mines, fighting, killing and enslaving one another, before eventually being united by a black dragon and a common foe. How a mysterious adventurer had gifted them a magical barrier that turned their home into a gilded cage - and how he and Anitra had ultimately opened the door to that cage, allowing the Utopia to begin acting on the beliefs they'd arrived at over the centuries.

While he expounded, a small group of human and Equus healers - the later of which were clearly more familiar with the use of bandages and splints over potions and spells - nervously entered, and set to work on Slate's injuries. Anitra watched over them - and, more importantly, kept a very obvious eye on Slate, thus reminding him to continue keeping his aggressive tendencies under wraps. By the time Blake's explanation was finished, his wings were splinted and a pressure-bandage wrapped around his wide chest to keep his ribs where they were as well as stopping the slow oozing of blood from the handful of puncture-wounds dotting his front.

Fortunately, the story of the Utopia seemed capable of keeping Slate's attention sufficiently focused to prevent his instincts from protesting against letting people so close to him while he was vulnerable - or perhaps he was just sufficiently used to thinking of two-legged creatures as being non-threats that it didn't bother him in the first place. Either way, the treatment was completed without complication, and Blake's in-depth explanation seemed to dispel some of his lingering disbelief to boot. "Well, you certainly told it better than the dragon who 'recruited' me in the first place... I mostly just figured that he was some kind of loon, and went along with it figuring that I could kill him when his delusions stopped being amusing." he finally said, shaking his head. "Though it's still a bit much to swallow. Some black dragon caused an end to some local conflict just by existing, so now everyone here basically worship us, while dragons elsewhere think of us as cursed outcasts? That was all it took?"

Blake shrugged, and scratched his chin thoughtfully. "I doubt that actually was all it took. Rather, it's probably a bit more complicated than that. For starters, do you know why dragons generally treat us as they do?" Slate did not. As far as he was concerned, that was 'just the way it is'. "Essentially, from what I've learned, our 'exile' was commanded by Takharsis... the creator of the Dragons and the Goddess of Greed." Blake thus explained, while Anitra wandered over to the door with a sigh. Seemed like there was even more talking to be done, and at this rate, Blake's throat would soon get rough and dry. Knowing Argila, there'd be a servant lingering outside the door in case they needed anything beyond the medical assistance she'd arranged for before they left the plaza - and it'd probably be a good idea to send said servant to the kitchens for something cold to drink, and maybe some snacks at this rate.

Blake's monologue continued, now mixing general knowledge with the discoveries that he and Anitra had made in their own pursuit of the truth. How the black dragons had originally been created by another god, by way of infusing a number of stolen dragon-eggs with a fragment of his own divine power. How he'd used them as weapons against the other gods, and granted them effective immortality - even if one fell, he would simply be reborn from another of the eggs kept in his temple. How he'd - apparently - been defeated by a coalition of other gods in the end, and his very memory wiped from the world along with his name. And how Takharsis had then had to watch as his creatures, now lacking his controlling hand, started to randomly be reborn from the eggs of her children. It wasn't hard to imagine why she might hate them - being both a permanent reminder of how someone had managed to rob her, and of the fear she and her peers had felt as the black dragons soared across the skies in packs, threatening the life of even the otherwise immortal gods...

"Of course, having us simply killed when we hatched would be counterproductive - then we'd just be reborn again immediately, over and over, 'corrupting' even more eggs. Banishment was the worst she could do to us, so that's what she did. But the dragons here are free of greed - in a place where wealth flows endlessly, it has no meaning, and thus she holds no power here. They don't worship Takharsis, and thus feel no compulsion to follow her commands." Blake finished with a flourish as his audience stared wide-eyed. "We challenged gods..." he mumbled, eyes distant, as if the images Blake's words had painted for him had pulled his imagination away to that far-distant past when the black dragons had flown the skies in their creator's name, worshiped and revered by the people of his empire as living avatars of his divine might.

"And this," Blake continued after wetting his palate with the dragon-sized cup of ale the servants had brought on Anitra's request, "brings us neatly to the subject of DragonRiders." He threw a fond look at his own rider as she stepped up to his side at last, caressing his flanks. The knowledge that this topic was bound to arise eventually was the main reason she hadn't simply returned to her chambers and her son while letting Blake handle the exposition - though, having everything they knew so far summed up all at once had proven surprisingly useful, too. If nothing else, it made the remaining blank spots of their knowledge-base clear. How had the God of Power, who - by all accounts - caught the other gods with their pants around their ankles and proceeded to run roughshod across the world, been defeated so suddenly, without any warning and with so much momentum working for him?

They still didn't know. And save for the gods themselves, it seemed increasingly likely that nobody knew - after all, those very same gods had clearly gone to great efforts to erase every hint of those ancient events, removing all knowledge of the fallen peer who nearly crushed them all from the minds of every living thing they could possibly reach. However, in spite of those efforts, Blake and Anitra now knew more about what had happened back then than anyone else ever had in the millennia since - or if there existed a more knowledgeable soul somewhere, they'd yet to catch any hint of his existence! Even Drewyn, who had _lived_through those ancient events, was too limited by the perspective of the lowly smith's apprentice he'd been back then to fully appreciate the larger events he'd been a small part of.

This was amply demonstrated as Blake expounded on the powers, abilities, role and history of the DragonRiders - surprising Anitra herself as he dropped a number of details she hadn't been aware of before. "The first of their numbers were drawn from the upper echelons of our creator's priesthood... altered by his hand in order to be sexually compatible with us." Blake said, without any particular inflection - as if he was merely explaining a well-known fact to someone as of yet uninitiated. "Indeed, they were originally intended solely to be receptacles for our desires, since finding slaves with the right... capacity to handle our size was proving difficult, and human women were out of the question due to the energetic reaction our sperm creates when in contact with human blood - itself an unintended consequence of the divine fragment implanted into our being. Something to do with the humans being his creations, and the direct connection with his essence triggering something in their blood..."

He trailed off there, looking strangely vague for a moment, as if he'd lost his train of thought - then shook his head with some annoyance and carried on. "Regardless, as I said, the DragonRiders were meant to be mere concubines, whose role was to warm our nests and birth half-human children with dragonblood in their veins, who could both sire additional DragonRiders and serve as powerful shock-troopers for the Imperial Armies. However, one of the alterations had a serendipitous side-effect - The Quickening. With that, and suitable equipment, the DragonRiders soon proved to be extraordinarily valuable as swift and deadly elite soldiers, capable of being deployed behind enemy lines from dragonback. I think... it had something to do with the alterations combining with humanity's original gift..." Again he trailed off, wincing as if from a headache while Anitra regarded him with growing bemusement. Where was all this coming from? Had he found some records of what they'd come to occasionally refer to as the 'Imperial Era', and neglected to mention it to her? Didn't seem likely.

"Regardless, they were quite easily available back in the day..." he continued, after blinking a few times. "After all, it was easy for the priesthood to keep track of the DragonChildren and their conquests, recruiting the resulting girls into a school specifically tailored to both teach and test them. Only the cream of the crop were even allowed to become true DragonRiders, but even so they were abundant enough that the more elite and accomplished black dragons were allowed two or even three riders, with plenty of extra candidates left over to replace battlefield losses." Pausing for a breath, he shrugged with a wry smile. "Things are a bit more tenuous these days, needless to say. I pretty much just chanced into finding my Anitra - the luckiest encounter of my life - though I like to believe that the preference for black-haired maidens that led to our first encounter was the result of some deep-seated memory lingering from my past lives."

Anitra couldn't help but go a bit gooey at this unrehearsed and heartfelt declaration of love, and leaned heavily against his flank while telepathically adding Lucky for you and me both, husband... -_receiving a sidelong glance and a smile for her troubles. "So... does that mean I get to have a rider too? Or not?" Slate finally asked, sounding quite eager - his eyes lingering on Anitra with a certain amount of disbelief, as if he couldn't quite convince himself that she'd actually have the capabilities Blake had claimed. Blake shrugged somewhat shamefacedly. "Well... it means we don't exactly have one lined _up for you. But we do have our eyes on some possible prospects for recruitment, and now that you're here, we'll certainly step up our efforts to find you a rider."

His expression grew naughty then, and his smile widened. "In the meantime, you'll just have to manage with a bevvy of lusty dragonesses. I expect they'll be lining up to 'get to know you' virtually as soon as we leave this meeting, and once your wings have healed, you'll likely see plenty of invitations for outright mating-flights too. Definitely an experience worth having at least once, even if nothing can truly compare to having a DragonRider by your side... or underneath you." Slate's eyes pivoted back up to meet Blake's, and he snorted dismissively. "There's no need to be snide. I suppose I'll have to accept that the dragons here genuinely harbor no ill will towards me, but I hardly think my... performance earlier will have endeared me to them, let alone made their females swoon."

Blake pulled his head back in surprise, then lowered it again with a chuckle and a head shake. "I wasn't being snide, nor sarcastic, though I suppose I can see why you'd think so. In truth, the other dragons probably will be stepping a bit lightly around you for a while, and you can hardly blame them for that. But if you think our little fight might have dissuaded the femmes, you've got another thing coming! Sure, your... aggressiveness will have given you a bit of a bad-boy reputation, but I know more than one dragoness who'll find that intensely attractive. And as for them turning up their snouts at you because I kicked your ass up one wall and down the other, well..." He shrugged, while Slate gave him a flat stare. "In case you haven't noticed, the dragons around here hold me in exceptionally high regard. Possibly moreso than I deserve, magnificent though I am. So they're not likely to look down on you just because you couldn't beat me. If anything, the fact that you were able to give me a real fight, forcing me to pull out all the stops in order to take you down, is likely to have _impressed_them."

Slate snorted and looked away. "I suppose we'll see." he answered curtly, while watching Blake out the corner of his eyes. "Though...did you actually go all out? It rather felt like you were holding back throughout, which was... somewhat maddening, I'll admit." His voice was deceptively casual, as if he was asking purely out of curiosity. Blake's eyes narrowed for a moment - then he snorted and flashed Slate a rather vicious grin. "Well, I went at you about as hard as I possibly could without aiming for your_life_. My objective from the start was to cool you down, after all! So yes, indeed, if you'd been any stronger... I would've had no choice but to kill you."

Slate's head pulled back a bit, eyes going sharp - but then he grinned humorlessly and shook his head. "Duly noted, 'brother'. Now, let me just make sure I've got this straight... if I stick around here, I'll be safe, treated with respect, and have free access to all the food I can eat and all the femmes I can fuck. I may even get my very own 'Rider', which is apparently a pretty sweet deal! So... where's the catch, then? What do you want in return?" Blake rubbed his chin again, looking thoughtfully at Slate as if trying to judge where his mood was at by now. It certainly didn't seem likely that the other black would believe him if he said "Nothing at all, I'm just trying to help my fellow blacks, since I know what a raw deal we all got. I mean, I lucked out on so many levels, but in general, you know."

So instead, he shrugged. "Well, that's the thing. Around here,everyone, be they dragons or one of the smaller species who live under their protection, follow the same basic rule: You get what you need, and you do what you can. That basically just means that you help out with whatever your skills, abilities or interests makes you suited for, be it study, craftsmanship, construction, cooking, or even leadership. Now, you are a black dragon, which means you're inherently good at fighting - if not quite as good as me - which means that if and when the Utopia finds itself in need of fighters, you'll be expected to stand in the front lines, leading the vanguard. If the Utopia has a mission that would best suit a black-scaled hurricane of magical destruction, you'll be expected to step up and get it done. Theoretically, you can pretty much just laze about until then... but who knows? Maybe you've got a hidden talent that you don't even know about, and you'll eventually find something else you'd rather do around here."

Slate nodded slowly and looked down at his foreclaws, seemingly chewing it over. When he finally looked up again, Blake was ready with a lifted eyebrow and the obvious question. "So? Made up your mind whether to stay? If you decide to leave, you are of course free to do so, though it probably would be rather slow going for the first month or so." Answering this bit of levity with a dismissive snort, Slate shook his head - but nonetheless replied "Oh, I'll stay. The whole thing is clearly too good to be true, but I figure I might as well play along and enjoy the ride until the wheels come off."

And that was that. Leaving the room together, they found a message waiting from Argila, stating that suitable chambers had been prepared for their 'guest', assuming he was willing to stay, and as Blake lead him toward the specified location, Anitra headed back to their_chambers. Now that Blake had the attention to spare, however, she could no longer resist asking him - via telepathy - where all those details about the origin of the DragonRiders had come from._That's... a bit complicated... was the reply. Because honestly, I'm not even sure. Once I started talking about the subject, those bits just rolled off my tongue along with the rest of the stuff we learned the _ hard _ way. Best I can guess, it was all common knowledge for that earliest incarnation of mine whose head I inhabited for a while. It's not as clear as the stuff I actually _ experienced _ as him, and some of the details just didn't come through, but I'm pretty sure it's all true. Fits together, anyway, wouldn't you say?

It did, Anitra had to admit - albeit with a few more annoying little blank spots. What had that bit been about - the Quickening being an accidental result of the 'dragon-concubine' modifications combining with... what? Some kind of 'gift' humanity possessed, presumably courtesy of their nameless creator? Blake couldn't remember. It's just one of those things, you know, where you're sure you _ know _it, and it's right on the tip of your tongue, but the more you try to focus on it, the more it slips away... he commented apologetically. Well, in Anitra's experience, the best way to deal with that particular situation was to just stop trying - given a bit of time, the missing thought might sneak back into your head, all unnoticed - so the topic was dropped for now.

An hour or so later, when Blake returned to their chambers after getting Slate settled into his new digs - and making the rounds to a few female acquaintances in order to subtly suggest to them that the newcomer might appreciate a proper Utopia Welcome once his ribs had gotten a chance to knit together a bit - a different, though related, topic was raised. "We need to get that lad a rider, stat." Blake declared bluntly. "He may seem all reasonable and willing to talk right now, but don't let that deceive you. Nobody changes that fast. He's spent his whole life surviving through the judicious application of deadly violence, and the only thing really holding him back at the moment is the fact that he's injured. Once his wings and ribs have healed, his mind will invent some excuse to pick another fight - maybe not with me, but with someone- and then things will go downhill again, fast."

Concerning, to say the least - and the time-limit those injuries conferred was tighter than Anitra would've guessed. Dragons, due to their high magical resistance - never mind the all-out immunity of the black variant - generally had to make do without magical healing when they were injured, and they had an impressive capacity for natural recovery for just that reason. Indeed, on reflection, she had to admit that she should have realized that - after all, _she_partook in a boosted version of that accelerated healing when she received a draconic Quickening. Point was, his ribs would be back in one piece - if still tender for a while - within a week or two, and his wings would be usable in little more than a months time, though it'd still be inadvisable for him to fly very far or very hard for at least another month.

"And you really think getting him a rider would make that much of a difference?" Anitra asked cautiously, a bit unsure about how much effect having a steady 'girlfriend' could really have on someone that unstable. Blake, however, nodded firmly. "I'd stake my life on it. Believe me, my love - the night I met you, and we were joined, I felt my perspective shift radically. It took me a long time to admit all the... components of that shift, but almost immediately, I was thinking along different lines, contemplating different priorities. Indeed, I was thinking far more than I'd done before."

Ambling over to the crib where Jet and Mel were currently napping, freshly fed courtesy once more of Melora, he paused and looked down on those two fragile little lives for a second. "Even before... all this_happened... we were bound." He said quietly. "Inexorably and deeply bound, on an emotional as well as magical level. I could_feel it when that bond was forged. I couldn't not think of you. Couldn't not consider how my actions might affect you. And believe me, there is no more radical shock to your thinking than having to suddenly go from thinking 'me' to thinking 'we'."

Anitra slowly nodded, even though his back was currently turned to her, and reached up a finger to quickly wipe away a treasonous tear which had seemingly snuck into the corner of her eye from her 'human' side. "Okay, then. So we get him a rider. The Utopia's agents have been tracking a number of prospects, right?" She replied, voice ever-so-slightly thick, and Blake turned his head to nod at her with a glimmer of renewed humor in his eyes. "They have indeed. Specifically, they've been tracking your dad, searching for your no doubt numerous half-sisters."

This was news to her, and she found herself briefly thinking about her father - a man she'd never met, never even seen a picture of. All she really knew was that he'd been black-haired and a skilled warrior - both of which were basically a given for a DragonChild. He'd knocked up her mother - and, according to a few quiet rumors that had still been circulating in Karistad during her formative years, several other women who'd been less keen to carry the results to term - and then disappeared without a word. Still, Arthenia had never seemed to resent him - indeed, on those rare occasions when the topic of Anitra's father had been raised, she'd appeared to remember him fondly.

There were many ways that a woman could protect herself against an unwanted pregnancy - alchemical, herbal, magical, or even just careful tracking of certain natural cycles. But with a large enough sample-size - which the DragonChildren, with their wanderlust, bottomless appetite and vast virility seemed perfectly capable of delivering - there'd also always be a few who got clumsy or careless, and then neglected to seek out one of the slightly shadier_herbalists for a way to nip the problem in the bud. Could be moral reservations, religious convictions, or even perfectly reasonable concerns about the small-but-very-real possibility that those ever-so-slightly poisonous herbal mixes might damage their womb and prevent conception from happening at a later, more convenient time. And of course, there'd also be those very occasional women who just didn't _mind winding up with a bun in the oven, for whatever reason - as had, apparently, been the case with Arthenia the Amazon, who'd obviously hoped that a child conceived on her by a suitably strong and skilled warrior might grow up to inherit her skills and tools, thus carrying on her legacy. Well, she'd gotten her wish in the end, after a fashion, Anitra thought with a slight twinge of lingering regret.

"Apparently, finding DragonChildren out there is only slightly less challenging than finding random DragonRiders..." Blake continued, unaware of the side-track her mind had ventured out on. "I mean, at a glance, they're just... unusually strong, unusually tough humans with a passion for screwing anything in a skirt. Which describes most of the male human adventurer population - so even adding in the black hair doesn't narrow the scope much. But there's ONE place and time where we know a DragonChild was present..." Anitra nodded, quickly getting her mind back to the present. "My conception." She replied, and he nodded.

"Tracking him forwards has proven challenging, since he didn't leave a forwarding address when he left town... but they've had some luck tracking him backwards, since he obviously wasn't quite as interested in hiding where he'd been, as opposed to where he was planning to go next. And his... 'activities' tend to ensure that rumors and gossip lingers wherever he's been, even decades after the fact. So they've managed to identify several of the towns and cities he visited before hitting Karistad." He paused, grimacing, and Anitra helpfully asked the obvious question. "Well, what's the problem then?"

Blake scratched his cheek and looked down on his sleeping son again, sighing. "Something I honestly hadn't thought about before, but now get. Time - time is the problem. The agents are tracking him backwards through time, meaning that every offspring of his we find are older than you. And that, consequently, means that most of them have already put down roots. They've got careers, friends, lovers, husbands, even children... in other words, they've got lives that they aren't likely to want to abandon just to go haring off in order to be a dragon's concubine. Not even for the promise of immortality, assuming anyone would actually_believe_ such a promise."

Anitra slowly nodded, parsing it. It made sense, all right. If she hadn't met Blake, she'd be looking at marriage-prospects herself around now. Or possibly rushing to the altar already, to get the ceremony out of the way before her baby-bump started showing - as more than one girl had done at ages younger than her own current years, both back in Karistad and, most likely, literally everywhere else that young, foolishly in love girls could be found. Still... "I would've thought that their... situations might cut down on that..?" She ventured, not really wanting to get overly specific.

Her own situation had been special. Her mother, Arthenia the Amazon, had been famous, loved and respected in Karistad for having saved the whole city on more than one occasion. Nobody was going to call her out for her breaches of social respectability, nor would anyone dare say an ill word of her daughter, however irregular her parentage. The worst anyone had ever acted towards her back then was 'coldly polite'... but she'd been acutely and painfully aware that it was_only_ her mother's influence that kept a far heavier social penalty from falling on her head. Surely, there'd be a few girls out there who'd been fathered by her deadbeat dad mostly due to their mothers lacking the resources to obtain suitable birth-control or abortion-inducing herbs afterwards. Without a powerful patron, they'd be ostracized, outcast, bullied, receiving little more than scowls and ugly names from 'polite society'.

Blake understood what she meant perfectly well even if she didn't specify, though, and shrugged. "Honestly, so had I. But... well, it seems like a certain strain of stubborn competence, razor-sharp wit and abundant energy runs in your family line, my dear, and not just from your mother's side. The agents have identified a few girls born into those kinds of situations, but all of them just... kind of... managed all the same. In two separate cities, they found half-sister of yours who'd been born into abject poverty, soon turning to prostitution before even coming of age, and supposedly going through all kinds of travails. But today? One of them is running the most popular, celebrated and affluent brothel in her city, while the other has become an extremely successful courtesan, currently living a life of luxury with several of the highest nobles and richest merchants in the region wrapped around her little finger. Did I mention 'enterprising' in the list of qualities that seem common to your father's line?" Blake's voice had turned dry, but Anitra couldn't help but giggle at the mental image. Just how many half-sisters did she have, scattered across the continent, making successful lives for themselves against all odds?

With a half-smile, showing that he recognized the source of Anitra's amusement, Blake shook his head wryly. "Oh, and there really aren't as many of those unfortunate souls as you might think. The agents have also identified a few sisters who grew up in seemingly stable homes - with their 'father' blissfully unaware that they didn't share his blood. Clearly, your dad didn't have any compunctions about seducing married women! One of them is a _countess_now. Another is poised to inherit an affluent merchant-house, assuming she can find a suitably easily-cowed husband, which shouldn't be much of a problem. In fact, according to the agent that looked into her, she's already started to take over many facets of her aging 'father's business."

Well, inconvenient as it was under the circumstances, it was nice to know that her 'family' was doing so well for itself. "So... what's our best prospect, then?" She asked, hoping that he'd been saving the best for last. Unfortunately, Blake could only grimace. "Last time I checked? Probably one of the half-handful of middle-aged housewives the agents identified in the last city they tracked your father to. They've been married for long enough to start getting bored with that kind of life, and are old enough to find the idea of immortality - never mind restored youth - highly seductive. If we play our cards right, we could lure them away from their husbands and children, and once they've been 'awakened', they'll soon start aging backwards to the prime of their lives. And it's only ever-so-slightly morally abhorrent! Or so I'm told, anyway."

Despite his light tone, Anitra had a strong feeling that for once, Blake did_understand this particular moral issue. Still... "Well, if that's our best option, that's our best option." She said with a shrug. "Like you said, we _need to find a rider for Slate." With a reluctant nod, Blake straightened up and turned away from the crib. Squaring his shoulders, he headed for the door. "Well, I'll head over to the intelligence-department, and ask them to name their best available recruitment-prospect. For that matter, I haven't checked in for a few weeks - been a touch preoccupied, you know - so hey, they may have found something new in the meantime!"

He didn't sound terribly hopeful, and indeed looked noticeably down as he trudged out the door - while at the same time, Anitra had to carefully keep her face straight and her telepathic connection to him closed. This was the perfect opportunity! A chance to get away from everything for a bit, to just be the decidedly non-pregnant and thoroughly sexy adventurer Anitra again, instead of being stuck as Anitra the Mom. Without looking like a lazy, entitled, irresponsible jerk in the process, importantly. After all, who could be better suited for recruiting a potential DragonRider than another DragonRider, who could properly demonstrate the potential of the transformation to whatever frumpy housewife they wound up targeting? Indeed, the fight with Slate would provide her with a perfect argument - it probably wouldn't have happened if Blake had gone to invite Slate himself, after all, instead of the Utopia just sending some random envoy. It was fairly obvious that Blake hadn't been asked to do so largely because his wife had just given birth, or possibly been in the process of giving birth, depending on when the envoy was sent off - but that was hardly an issue anymore, was it? Surely, Melora and Direza could hold down the fort for a couple of weeks while they went off on that really important mission!

A few hours later, however, her plans had to be readjusted slightly when Blake returned with a triumphant grin on his face. "Just goes to show you shouldn't borrow trouble!" he crowed, before settling down on the nest to explain why his mood had risen so noticeably. Apparently, the intelligence-division had received a message from one of their agents less than two days earlier, informing them that he had successfully tracked Anitra's father back to yet another stopover - and, based on a preliminary analysis, this location has a prime candidate in residence!

"It's a place called Il'nyadrel, in the outer reaches of the Darkwoods..." Blake said, raising an eyebrow to see if this would ring a bell. It_did_, after a fashion - Anitra was pretty sure she'd heard the Darkwoods mentioned once or twice before - but the real kicker was the entirely unfamiliar name of the town in question. "An_elven_ settlement?" she asked, as the possibilities began to coalesce in her mind. Certainly, with a name like that, it could hardly be anything else. Blake nodded, still grinning. "Indeed. And the Darkwood Elves, unlike some of the other tribes, aren't terribly friendly with the humans. Not that they're hostile, per se, they'd just prefer if humans stayed out of their woods and left them alone - bit of a superiority-complex, basically, hard though it may be to imagine an elf with one of those!"

His eye-roll at that last bit prompted a solid laugh from Anitra - both at the sarcasm and the clearly self-aware hypocrisy in that coming from a dragon... one of the only creatures who could match the elves for sheer, racially-ingrained arrogance. As the laugh petered out, however, her face took on a thoughtful expression. "Wait, so... DragonRiders don't have to be human?" Blake shrugged before replying. "Not fully, no. Back in the Old Empire Era, they always were, of course - halfbloods weren't allowed to even enter the academy, and why should they allow that, when they had so many prospects to choose from? But there's really nothing preventing a half-elf, half-orc, or half-whatever-else from becoming a DragonRider, nor any reason for us to stick to the same standards as that lost and forgotten age."

Nodding slowly, Anitra felt the pieces begin to fall into place. "And a half-elf... raised in a community that isn't fond of humans... she's going to have a really tough time, isn't she?" Blake grunted, nodding. "That's putting it mildly. Based on the preliminary report, our candidate is a virtual outcast, regularly bullied and harassed by her peers. Also, being a half-elf, she's younger than her years would suggest - despite being in her late thirties, she's probably your junior both physically and socially. So, even if she's likely to eventually overcome the prejudices of the villagers, or reached success in some other way - like so many of the sisters - she hasn't yet... which should make her quite conducive to recruitment."

This, then, was Anitra's opportunity to apply the arguments she'd prepared, after applying a few slight twists to account for the details of the case. So apply them she did, with exquisite care, making sure to seem reluctant at the thought of leaving home even for such a short while. But really, what mattered here was what the Utopia needed, not what she wanted, right? And with such a fine chance, they couldn't afford to waste it. Letting one of the Utopia's Rakshasa-agents approach the girl held the potential for all kinds of misunderstanding - and first impressions counted for a lot!Besides, there was also the matter of...

Eventually, with a lingering glance at the crib, Blake nodded and sighed. "I see where you're coming from. This, I suppose, is the price of being a 'hero', huh? Having to go do heroic things even when you'd really rather not." Shaking his head, he started towards the door once more, with the stated intent to inform the Council of their plans and collect whatever information the intelligence-division had on hand. "Well, I suppose Direza and Melora can manage to look after the children by themselves, and it should be a relatively short jaunt..." Anitra, however, pulled on her lower lip, eyes narrowing as she considered a unique possibility, finally raising her voice to say "Actually, about that..."

Preparing for the mission didn't take long - it wasn't expected to involve any combat, after all, just a bit of carefully targeted diplomacy, and furthermore they were pressed for time. The Darkwoods was a fair flight away, so if they wanted to be sure they'd return before Slate recovered and started getting antsy, they'd need to press on at speed - yet another argument in favor of them going, since no other dragon could match Blake for sheer speed. After some debate, it was decided to use the lightweight palanquin that had been made for her during her pregnancy, rather than the old saddle, for the trip - much to Anitra's annoyance. She'd been looking forwards to being in that saddle again, just like old times - but they were supposed to collect an inexperienced young half-elf this time and expecting her to make the long and arduous journey back to the Utopia on a saddle, without the advantages of a fully awakened DragonRider, might be asking a bit much.

Direza had looked rather surprised - though pleasantly so, of course - when Anitra informed her that she'd be tagging along on this trip. Hearing that their destination was an elven settlement, a shadow crossed her face, and for a moment it almost seemed like she was about to question her mistress' wisdom. Then she mastered herself and bowed in acknowledgment. "I will be delighted to accompany you anywhere, my lady..." she declared, though she clearly remained uncertain about how much good she'd be able to do on this trip. While few places welcomed Drow, the Elves hated and feared them to a particularly extreme degree, which was hardly surprising since they were the Drow's favorite victims. Presumably because, skin and hair-color aside, they were virtually identical, making elves the perfect test-subjects for all kinds of torturous magical and alchemical alterations...

Melora, meanwhile, took the revelation that she'd be staying home to mind the kids by herself with remarkably even temper - though Blake's clever way of putting it to her might have helped a fair bit. "I have put challenges to you before, whenever I could not bring you along on my journeys..." he'd rumbled. "This time, I'm entrusting you with the care of my child while I am away. A challenge of far greater magnitude and importance, compared to the idle games we've played before. You have always risen to meet and exceed my expectations, however, and I have faith that you will do so this time as well." She'd been obviously touched by this declaration, and it hadn't hurt either that he'd made it clear that, despite this not being the same sort of just-for-fun 'challenge' he'd tasked her with prior, that did not mean that she wouldn't be rewarded for doing a good job of it upon his return.

Nor would she be handling it entirely alone. "You asked Gisela as I suggested, then?" Anitra queried as they prepared to leave. Melora nodded stolidly. "I did indeed, and she agreed to help - though she rather insinuated that she'd be expecting a few sexual favors in return. She'll be coming around whenever she's not busy with her work, lending me a hand. Apparently, she had a few younger siblings growing up, and helped take care of them before leaving home, so she knows her way around a diaper." Anitra nodded, grinning. That was about what she'd expected - on both counts. Halflings tended to have large families, which probably explained why they weren't too bothered when some of their kids declined to return to their picturesque villages after their traditional coming-of-age journey. And as for the _first_matter, well, Gisela's interest in Melora clearly hadn't waned after the baby-shower. "Well, depending on what she's after, she may have to wait 'till we get back..." She said out loud. "I'm taking the Ring of Priap with me."

She didn't say why she'd decided to bring the ring, mostly because she was trying not to think about it too closely. After the amusing little baby-shower interlude with Manushya in Anitra-form, she'd found herself with a newly flourishing fetish, and few ways to feed it. But now, she was off to meet an actual sister, someone who shared half of her blood... well, a lot would depend on the girl's personality, but if the opportunity offered itself, she'd be all over it like a gelatinous cube on an adventuring-party, and she wouldn't give a good goddamn who wound up wearing the ring in the process.

It was, indeed, a fairly long flight to the Darkwoods - a week's journey in both directions was the projection, and they stuck fairly close to it. Anitra spent the time reading up on Il'nyadrel and the Darkwoods themselves, since that was about the only thing they had_any information about, beyond that initial, rather terse report from the agent who'd tracked her father there in the first place. The Darkwoods wasn't the _biggest forest on the continent - far from it - but as the name suggested, it was one of the darkest. The deeper parts were wild and untamed, and a number of monsters and dangerous beasts could be found underneath the dark ceiling of the ancient trees' grown-together crowns. A number of overgrown ruins could be found there too, remains of ancient settlements - some of which seemed to be elven in nature, and others which decidedly_weren't_.

Those deep and dangerous places were the main reason why the still-inhabited elven settlements in the safer border-areas didn't get their apparent wish of just being left alone. Adventurers occasionally ventured into the depths of the Darkwoods, whether hunting some rare monster for trophies or valuable alchemical ingredients, or seeking ancient artifacts and riches in the ruins, and the bordering villages made for a good place to get some rest and stock up on healing-potions on the way in... and recover from your wounds as well as drink away the horrors you'd seen on the way out. The frosty reception they received in these places generally failed to deter those hardy souls, and after recognizing that the adventurer's gold was as shiny as any other, many of the villages started to reluctantly cater to those occasional visitors in some small way - mostly just by having a somewhat bigger in and more well-stocked alchemist than the size of those communities might otherwise have supported.

Apparently, Anitra's father had visited Il'nyadrel as part of a small band of adventurers, on an expedition into the deeper reaches - details were still unclear, but he'd obviously taken the time to seduce one of the local elf-maidens along the way. Aaaand that was really about it - Il'nyadrel was a fairly unexceptional elven town, little different from the dozen of other such settlements that dotted the outskirts of the Darkwoods, so there really wasn't much else to say about it. Presumably, by the time they arrived, the Utopia's agent would have managed to dig up some more information about their target in particular, as well as her background and the circumstances surrounding her conception, but right now that was all they had.

In the end, Anitra was forced to admit that there were advantages to traveling by palanquin, especially for long journeys like these. She missed the feeling of the wind in her hair, and the dizzying view of the world, stretched out before her like a carpet - but at least you could read inside it without fear of the papers getting torn from your hands, and having sex with your favorite servant was a lot more convenient. Direza, for her part, got a chance to experience a new, if not _entirely_original bit of humiliation...

Blake could, theoretically, fly for 48 hours straight without rest, but this would have been somewhat inconvenient for his passengers. Occasional landings were necessary in order to let them straighten their legs, cook warm meals, and answer the call of nature... but keeping such landings to a minimum was important in order to keep the pace up. Thus, on a daily basis, Direza was pressed into service not just as Anitra's personal pissoir, but also her own - forced to pee into a jar right in front of her mistress, and then drink the bright-yellow contents back down again. This cycle continued, leaving her piss increasingly strongly-scented and -flavored, until the next landing allowed her to finally purge it from her system.

Not that she had the pleasure of her mistress' company through the entire_trip. Anitra had, rather strategically, brought a sturdy curl of rope - and as she had on a few precious occasions, she spent part of the journey _underneath Blake rather than on top, tied to his belly as his every wing beat drove his cock into whichever orifice she'd picked. The brief stops were generally some twelve hours apart - making for three such stops between the much lengthier breaks to let Blake rest - and she merrily spent an entire 48-hour period strapped beneath him, only using the short breaks to change her position. Twelve hours of pussy-pounding, followed by twelve hours of ass-reaming, followed by twelve hours with his softened cock lodged down her gullet and her nose rubbing against his scaly balls, and finally another twelve hours getting her pussy re-accustomed to the shape of his rod.

Needless to say, this was a bit beyond even Blake's impressive virility... but while he couldn't wear the Ring of Priap, he was quite capable of casting the same permanent hard-on spell bound in that band on himself - after all, his inherent magical immunity didn't apply to his own spells. He was scrupulous about sticking to the spell's recommendation not to use it for more than 24 hours at a time, hence Anitra being left to suck gently on his rubbery, deflated shaft during the oral segment of the triathlon. Not that she minded, really - this was the kind of humiliation that effectively aroused her, being tied up like a living cock-sheath, delicately cleaning her own ass-slime off the base of his cock while he emptied his straining bladder directly into her stomach. The fact that the whistling wind was the only stimulation her erogenous zones received for those twelve hours, putting her in an effective state of perpetually-aroused orgasm-denial for the duration, also helped - and ensured that the climaxes came hard and fast when she finally switched back to getting her drooling-wet pussy filled.

Still, in the end, she spent two of the three 48-hour flights safely ensconced within the safety and comfort of the palanquin, alternatingly napping and doing various perverted things to and with the ever-eager Direza. Enjoying a long, leisurely rimjob; getting her urethra thoroughly fucked by Direza's slender member and her bladder pleasantly filled with elf-cum; eating snacks while using the slender drow's naked body as a table... with just the two of them and no toys to play with other than the Ring of Priap, their options were limited, but they had plenty of time to work their way through every last one of them and invent a few others along the way.

Finally, just as Blake started flagging after the third 48-hour flight, they reached their goal - the Darkwood stretched out below them. Ah, forests... gotta love their complete lack of suitable, dragon-sized landing-spaces... Blake groused telepathically as his sharp eyes searched for any exception to that rule he could find - preferably not too far from their target, Il'nyadrel, the highest spires of which could be seen rising among the stately oaks. Anitra leaned out of the palanquin's door to help, looking down across the mass of deciduous trees in search of any gaps.

Wait... what's that? Think you could fit through there? She asked telepathically as her eyes fixed on something - a patch of black among the green. It was somewhat deeper inside the woods than would've been ideal, but beggars couldn't be choosers. Diving down a bit, Blake took a closer look at the spot she'd mentally conveyed to him before replying in kind. Looks like the site of a minor fire. Hrm. Going to be a tight fit getting past the neighboring trees, but I think I'm up for it. Better close those doors!

As said, so done - and with branches whipping across both Blake's near-indestructible scales and the somewhat flimsier palanquin, they made the descent - finding themselves in an ash-choked clearing broken up by a short handful of burned-out stumps, two of which had been reduced to broken lumps of charcoal by Blake's forceful descent. "Doesn't look like a natural fire..." he commented guardedly while Anitra and Direza climbed out of the palanquin and descended to the ground. Anitra had to agree. The odd patches of scorched ground was one thing, but the piles of burned-out exoskeletons piled here and there near the tree-stumps were a dead giveaway. "This must have been a spider-nest..." she replied, her voice hushed. Several of the corpses were the size of dogs, and a few were closer to cows. The trees must have been strung together with massive amounts of spiderweb... delightfully _flammable_web, which some group of adventurers, deliberately or accidentally, had taken advantage of with a few well-placed fireballs or a bottle of Alchemist's Fire.

Anitra had been... not fond of spiders ever since her unfortunate captivity as the hands of the Drow, years earlier, and she carefully didn't look at Direza as she nodded. "Well, whatever lived here, it's gone now, and none of us have any reason to fear a couple of oversized arachnids, should there be survivors still wandering about." Recalling the view she'd had of the woods as they descended, she carefully got her bearings and then turned to her drow servant, who was regarding the piles of dead-and-dusted spiders with mixed feelings. "Right, I'm going to head to Il'nyadrel and check in with the Utopia's agent. You stay here for now, set up camp, and make sure no spiders creep up and bite Blake's tail while he naps."

Blake himself underlined this statement by yawning mightily and using his tail to sweep an area clean of both exoskeletons and chunks of charred wood, readying a suitably 'bed' for himself. "...they wouldn't be able to bite through his scales, of course, but it'd wake him up and that might make him grouchy or something..." Anitra continued with a grin, walking up to his neck to stroke it lovingly as he settled down on the now-cleared space and closed his eyes. The comforts of the Utopia had yet to make him soft - despite the rough bed, he was asleep within minutes, breathing deeply and steadily.

Pulling her personal gear out of the palanquin, she pulled a slightly-shabby floor-length cloak over her eye-catching armor, adjusted her small, well-worn backpack so that she could still easily reach the hilt of her sword if needed, and watched with approval as Direza began to unpack the rest of their necessities. They'd most likely be spending a couple of days here at least, and of the three of them, only Anitra would be able to sleep in Il'nyadrel's inn without scrutiny. "If and when I need you, I'll call Blake and ask him to pass on the message..." Anitra said by way of goodbye. "Feel free to clean up a bit around here if you have the time." She then pulled the drow into a tight embrace and pressed a forceful kiss onto her lips without warning, causing the slender elf-girl to melt against her with a moan. "Oh, and give Blake a blowjob from me when he wakes up, hmm?" was her final parting line.

Il'nyadrel was a good two hours of brisk walking from their landing-site - actually closer to three, really, Anitra reflected as she finally reached the town's outskirts. In the heavily overgrown woods, straight lines was a thing you could only dream wistfully about, and she'd had to make several lengthy detours around areas so densely wooded that they could've given the Forest of Fairies a run for its leaves. In other places, she'd had to use BlackFire just to cut her way through the undergrowth - wondering, as she did, what Drewyn the Smith would have said if he'd seen his masterpiece being used as a glorified machete. Still, other than that, she encountered no trouble - presumably, the local wildlife - be it mundane or monstrous - was sufficiently familiar with passing adventurers to recognize her as such and give her a wide berth.

Still, she did not mind the walk - indeed, she rather enjoyed it for the same reason she'd enjoyed spending a full two days near-constantly stuffed by Blake's cock: It was a reminder that she was fully back in shape, both athletically and sexually. So what if it was exhausting? Her body could handle it, and that was a glorious thing indeed! With such happy thoughts in mind, she hardly paid attention to the dark, down-their-noses looks she got from the elven sentinels at the village gates. They no doubt took her for just another adventurer, drifting through their town on her way to or from some mundane quest, and that, of course, was part of the idea. The gates in question, she noted, weren't iron-barred wood set into a tall stone wall - but rather a green archway in an impressive hedge sporting thorns the size of daggers, neatly surrounding the whole village. Because Elves.

Il'nyadrel was quite a sight in the light of the setting sun, she thought as she wandered down the main street. It was just a mid-sized town... but it was an elven town, which meant architecture that made even the royal capitals of human kingdoms look squalid and ugly by comparison. Many elven nations preferred to build their houses inside or on top of trees, but the elves of the Darkwoods seemingly had no particular compunctions about using stone and glass - although their architecture was soaring, elegant, and clearly inspired by the soft lines of organic growths, as well as often being intertwined with living trees that had carefully been grown around or _through_the buildings.

Her immediate target was the Sun's Rest Tavern and Inn, near the town center - a popular place with both adventurers and elven travelers, as well as the occasional undercover agent of the Utopia. The preliminary report that the agent had sent indicated that he was staying there, anyway - hopefully, she'd be able to find him without too much trouble. The enchanted crystal spheres that the Utopia's agents used for communications had limited range, so those operating far from the Utopia generally made their reports to nearby, centralized stations, established somewhere suitably isolated - reports were gathered and written down there, and then sent back to the Utopia by the same courier dragons that brought any new orders or requests their way. Thanks to Blake's speed, she'd beaten that courier here, so there'd been no way to arrange a meeting - she'd just have to hope that the agent in question was reasonably quick-minded.

The tavern that made up the Sun's Rest's ground floor was hardly crowded, but there were a few adventurous-looking types sitting around some of the tables, eating and laughing at some in-joke or other, a couple of locals drinking at the bar, and a few miscellaneous travelers dotted here and there, mostly merchants by the looks of them. Anitra drew quite a few eyes when she walked through the door, letting her cloak open enough to show off some of her exotic armor - and, not incidentally, a fair bit of skin. Marching up to the bar, she pulled off her backpack and adjusted her sword, letting the candlelight catch in the crimson carbuncle that served as her pommel-stone. Normally, she tried to avoid drawing attention to BlackFire's rather spectacular handle, even wrapping it in canvas on some occasions, but right now, her best chance was for the agent to find_her_. Seeing as he was supposed to be trawling for rumors and gossip, word of a black-haired adventuress with black-scaled armor and a mithril-hilted sword topped by a carbuncle was bound to reach his ears, and he'd likely recognize her for who she was.

The innkeeper approached her with an obsequious air which indicated that her impressive equipment had led him to mentally catalog her as 'successful adventurer, likely well-off, almost certainly arrogant, handle with care', and she requested a room for the night - introducing herself grandly and without bothering to keep her voice down as "Anitra, daughter of Arthenia the Amazon", just in case the agent she was looking for was too dim to recognize her from just the description. She needn't have bothered - even as the innkeeper turned in order to pick her room-key off the board, an aged-looking elvish gentleman in dusty traveling-clothes whom she'd initially dismissed as one of those 'miscellaneous travelers' stepped up to the counter next to her and nodded nervously.

"Ah... did I hear you call yourself Anitra?" He asked carefully, and she turned to catch his eyes - giving him a good view of her inhuman pupils as she nodded, a knowing smile on her face. Swallowing, he bobbed his head. "Ah... splendid, splendid... you are here about the contract, yes? So glad you agreed to help me. Once you have gotten settled in, please come find me in my room - room seventeen, that is - and I'll explain the details to you." She flashed him a grin as she took her own key from the innkeeper. "Looking forwards to it, good sir..." she replied smoothly. "The contract was a bit thin on detail, after all."

He was up the stairs before she'd even picked up her backpack, and though she tried to focus her eyes on his retreating back, she honestly couldn't see anything. Blake, she knew, could somewhat_see through the Rakshasa's illusory disguises, mostly by scent according to him - which meant that he could pick them out of a crowd, if not actually tell what was _underneath their illusions. The most she could ever manage was a vague sense that something was ever-so-slightly off, and even then, only if she spent a fair bit of time in the company of one. Regardless, this agent certainly seemed satisfyingly quick on the uptake, and she was rather looking forwards to finding out what he had learned in the weeks since his original report was sent. As soon as she'd dropped her backpack off in her room - a very nicely appointed and comfortable-looking room, too - she went off in search of Room 17 and some answers.

The agent opened his door at the first knock, nervously invited her inside, and quickly closed it again behind her. The curtains were already drawn, and on his bedstead stood a small, innocuous-looking talisman that glowed faintly to her eyes - no doubt one of the agents' standard-issue countermeasures against magical surveillance. Certainly, he seemed confident that they weren't being watched or overheard at this time - as soon as the door had closed behind her, he threw himself down on one knee, bowing his head as he dispelled his illusion, revealing the Rakshasa beneath. "Lady Anitra! My apologies for not greeting you properly until now - I had not received any notification that you might be coming!" He said breathlessly.

Chuckling, she pulled off her own cloak and cast it aside, before bending over and giving him a pat on the shoulder. "Oh, do stand up. I am well aware that you didn't know I was coming, and impressed with how quickly you caught on to my presence and concocted a suitable cover-story for our meeting. You have served the Utopia well..." The agent obediently rose, but an awed expression remained on his face. She'd seen it on a few Rakshasa she'd casually encountered before - a suggestion that they held her personally responsible for changing the fortunes of their entire species, taking them from a paranoid existence of slow extinction to the paradisaical Utopia. They probably also, as most of the Utopia's two-legged residents, somewhat overestimated her involvement in the actual _governance_of said Utopia... but whatever, the point was that he was clearly eager to impress her, both because she'd saved his people and because the performance of him and other agents like him was what ensured the safety and prosperity of all his fellow Rakshasa now living under the dragons' protection.

"Now, I know you weren't expecting such a prompt and dramatic response to your initial report..." she explained as he eagerly nodded and listened, seemingly stuck somewhere between 'eager to prove himself' and 'terrified of screwing up in front of the boss'. "...but circumstances back in the Utopia have changed rather suddenly. There's a new black dragon there, recently arrived, and he's... not terribly stable, emotionally speaking. Which is to say, he picked a fight with Lord Blake virtually as soon as he arrived. Apparently, we DragonRiders are quite important to the mental health of the black dragons, and while the injuries he sustained from that ill-fated decision will keep him cooperative for a few weeks, he needs a Rider if we are to turn him into a permanent and reliable ally. Hence, your mission just became a lot more time-critical... and yes, the candidate you spotted is the best one we've turned up so far, so we're moving on it, right now."

The agent seemed to get increasingly nervous as she carried on, and finally raised a slightly shaky paw. "Umm... my lady, should you really be sharing all that information with me? I'm just an agent, and not even that high-ranking... I probably shouldn't be party to the secrets of the Black Dragons..." Realizing her blunder, she trailed off and cleared her throat. She really wasn't used to this kind of cloak-and-dagger stuff, but dammit, he had a point. Just the fact that the Utopia was collecting more black dragons and more riders could probably cause conniptions in certain divine circles, should word somehow reach them... and you never _really_knew who was listening, despite all precautions. Putting on the best face she could, she nodded sharply. "Perhaps not, but you wouldn't be here if the Utopia did not trust you, and I wished to impress upon you the urgency of our task. So - what have you got for me? I'm sure you haven't been wasting time since sending in that initial report..."

The agent, indeed, had not - and he was eager to move back into more comfortable topics. Nor had he slacked off, indeed - his full file on the target provided a lot more in-depth detail than the terse report that had sent her dashing here. The girl's name was Tiriana Bal'fiel Lorasatra, daughter of Laerdya Bal'Fiel Lorasatra... who was a low-ranking member of the local nobility. Her birth had been a decent-sized scandal, which of course meant that all the juicy details had made the rounds with great speed - and it hadn't taken a lot of digging to turn them up again. By all accounts, Laerdya had simply been seduced by a handsome, black-haired human adventurer with a magnificently masculine salt-and-pepper beard and the kind of chiseled jawline that elven men could only dream of possessing. Caught up in a whirlwind of passion, she'd neglected to take suitable precautions - until waking up the next day to find her beloved gone, not just from her bed but from the town altogether. The passion had vanished with him, and with her sanity restored, she had hurried to obtain a suitable dose of a 'morning-after' herbal mix.

Unfortunately, the town herbalist had been hungover from a night of drinking with his friends, and had left his new apprentice with the task of preparing the requested mix. The apprentice, apparently, had screwed it up - misunderstanding his master's growled orders, he'd made hangover-medication instead. Laerdya had taken it, assumed that any possible consequences of her brief fling were thus handled, and thought nothing more of it - until months later, when the signs began to show. By then, it was too late for herbs - the only way to abort the pregnancy would have been in a more direct, intrusive way, and the elves had some fairly serious cultural taboos about that.

Hence, despite the scandal and the consequences for her social standing, she'd been left with no other choice but to carry the child to term - eventually giving birth to Tiriana, and subsequently raising her daughter on a stipend from her noble family. And convenient though this situation was for Anitra, personally, right now, she couldn't help but see the whole situation as strong evidence for why those kinds of 'cultural taboos' were a really bad idea. Poor Tiriana had been born into a culture that didn't like her, raised by a mother who didn't want her and who had, in fact, done her level best to ensure that she wouldn't exist. Both this and the fact that she'd basically ruined her mother's life just by being born had no doubt been thrown into her teeth by any number of bullies over the years, too, so it was hardly surprising that Tiriana seemed to spend as little time as possible at home... or in the town at all, even.

Still, if Laerdya resented her daughter for the sudden downturn her life had taken - being banished from her noble family in all but name and having her brief, foolish fling with a human turned into general knowledge - she at least wasn't taking it out on her. Indeed, Tiriana was clothed, fed and given shelter, with no indication that there was any kind of abuse going on behind closed doors - rather, her mother just treated her with cold, emotionless distance, as if she was a chore that she needed to get done, or a penalty she was paying for her earlier indiscretion. Clearly, she was prepared to pay that price, but 'conscientiousness' wasn't really a substitute for love when it came to raising children. Hence, Tiriana seemed to be home only for meals and sleep, and otherwise avoided being in the same room as her mother if at all she could.

The one thing that should have been a bright spot in her life was the temple-school, where she'd graciously been allowed to attend despite her mixed blood and being several years younger than the other students - in purely chronological terms, anyway. Physically, she was already starting to show off some dangerously human curves, breeding resentment from her female peers and lust - which had to be swiftly covered with name-calling and bullying lest your friends think you actually like that weird half-blood - from the boys. Thing was, she was actually excelling in several subjects, and had shown an early aptitude for magic - but this just produced jealousy on top of everything else, including from her teachers, many of whom seemed to intensely dislike having to say anything nice about her work.

"She's got the Talent, huh?" Anitra said thoughtfully as the agent recounted this. "Well, I guess it's not that surprising. It's more common among the elves, isn't it?" The Rakshasa nodded. "If you are comparing to the humans, then yes - magical aptitude is more than twice as common among the elves. And if my memory serves, half-elves seem to demonstrate the Talent at least that often, and possibly even more so." Sighing, he shook his head. "All of them are luckier than my own people, though. Beyond our natural gifts, magical talent is vanishingly rare among the Rakshasa. There is not a single magic-wielding Rakshasa alive today, to my knowledge." Anitra nodded absently at this aside, and carefully hid a shiver. The Rakshasa's inherent abilities were already impressive, even with nothing more than blood - real or alchemically-created - to fuel it. With human flesh in their bellies, they were genuinely terrifying monsters with vast powers at their disposal. Add sorcery or magecraft to that, and even _she_wouldn't want to pick a fight with the results, not even with Blake by her side!

Shaking off that thought, she brought the conversation back on track. Tiriana clearly didn't enjoy spending time at home or at school, so where did she go the rest of the time? Into the woods, apparently. The magically-grown hedge of oversized, thorn-lined brambles that ringed the city was mainly designed to keep away large predators and similar beasties, as it turned out - not determined youngsters. There were several places where a human - or a half-elf - could squeeze through or climb over without much risk, and Tiriana had apparently found some of them. What she did out in the woods, nobody knew, nor did anyone seem to care overmuch. The 'wall' was largely there in case of emergencies - between patrolling elven hunters and adventurers passing to and fro on a regular basis, there wasn't really any dangerous creatures in the immediate area, so the woods were reasonably safe - and sure enough, so far she'd come home every night without a scratch. Well, probably a few scratches, realistically, from passing through the thorny hedge, but other than that...

Privately, Anitra suspected that what Tiriana was doing in the woods was, primarily, 'hiding' - from her cold mother, her bullying schoolmates, and the mocking eyes of the townsfolk. That's what Anitra would be doing out there in that situation, anyway. Regardless, it certainly sounded like a golden opportunity - Tiriana had been disappearing into the woods on a daily basis for over a decade by now, so chances were she'd built some kind of refuge out there. Somewhere sheltered where she could hide, probably with a stash of purloined snacks, maybe some reading-materials, etc. A hidden base, a treehouse, something like that. Find that, and you had the perfect place in which to approach her with an offer, away from prying eyes...

Unfortunately, as the agent apologetically admitted, he had yet to do so successfully. Tiriana had proven to be remarkably evasive, presumably due to wanting to keep her sanctuary secret from her habitual bullies. Following her around the town wasn't hard for a Rakshasa, since he could take on any form he desired in the blink of an eye - but pursuing her through a gap in the hedge was another matter. It seemed likely that she'd watch her point of egress for at least a little while after creeping through, and there was no way to disguise such a pursuit. Worse, she used half a dozen different gaps, varying which she used on a daily basis, so simply waiting _outside_for her to turn up wasn't very workable either. Anitra couldn't help but feel a bit impressed - considering that she lacked any education in spycraft, the girl was showing remarkable resourcefulness and insight.

Still, impressive though it was, it was also quite inconvenient for their purposes. Anitra closed her eyes and ran through some alternatives. If the agent approached the girl in town, disguised as an elf, and invited her to a meeting somewhere isolated... she'd probably assume that it was a trap devised by her regular tormentors, regardless of what he said. If she approached the girl... she'd probably assume it was a trap devised by foreign kidnappers looking for pretty young half-elf girls to sell to the highest bidder. A note or a letter would have the same effect, no matter what it claimed. Confronting her somewhere isolated, such as her secret forest-base, was ideal - especially since this would allow Anitra to play her prepared trump-card.

"All right..." she finally said. "I might have an idea. I assume you know the location of most, if not all, of the gaps in the hedge she uses?" The Rakshasa indeed did - in fact, he was reasonably confident that he knew all of them, having followed her routinely for weeks. "And I assume you've also observed her for long enough to know several of her more ardent bullies on sight?" By sight, certainly - as well as knowing their names and addresses, as well as their favorite taunts and pranks. He'd been nothing if not thorough! Smiling, Anitra nodded. "In that case, all I need is for you to go acquire a couple of things for me... should be easy, in a town like this. We'll want to be ready tomorrow, once school lets out..."

The following afternoon, as the stern teachers of the town's temple-school allowed their charges to escape from those halls of learning, Tiriana Bal'fiel Lorasatra found herself encountering repeated misfortune. As she snuck through the streets of her hometown, she was dismayed to find one of the meanest girls from her class lingering near her intended target, seemingly waiting for someone. Tiriana didn't much care who - she felt subtly certain that whatever plans may have led her here, they'd take a back seat to tormenting her if given half a chance. Thus, she quickly changed directions before she could be spotted, and headed for the next closest exit.

Before she could even get it in her sights, however, she stumbled on another habitual bully of hers - a nasty fellow who didn't always limit himself to jeers and name-calling, and who'd probably enjoy mashing her face into the muddy road if he caught her away from the eyes of the adults. Not that there weren't some adults who wouldn't be happy to look the other way in the meantime, of course. Fortunately, he was looking the other way, leaning on a post while casually picking his nose with an air of boredom about him. Sneaking around him unseen would be a chore, though...

On to the next possible exit-point... aaand there was another one of her bullies, a sharp-tongued older sister of one of her classmates who never missed a chance to humiliate her. Currently browsing the contents of one of the marketplace's jewelry-stalls... maybe she could sneak around? No, there was no saying when she'd move on to another stall, and bypassing the marketplace altogether would be a huge detour. Next closest exit it was!

She reached this, at least, without incident, but by then she was starting to feel a touch paranoid. Why were so many of her tormentors hanging around her usual routes? Were they looking for her? trying to find out where she disappeared to after school? Her classmates, at the very least, must have moved quite quickly to get in front of her. Was it some sort of pre-planned effort to trap or ambush her? She wouldn't put it past them. Still, despite keeping all her senses on alert, she could detect no pursuit, nor was there a living soul to be seen anywhere near this final, unprotected gap in the hedge.

Once she'd squeezed through it with ease born of long habit, she crouched in a nearby bush and waited for quite a bit longer than she usually did, watching the gap to see if anyone was going to follow her through it. Nobody did. Around her, the forest was its usual self - filled with the sound of branches brushing against each other as the breeze blew through them, birds singing, squirrels tittering, and all the other regular noises of the forest. Neither her eyes nor her ears could detect any sign of a trap or anything else amiss. Perhaps it really had just been random misfortune that had put so many obstacles in her way? Either way, she couldn't sit around in a bush all day. Her stomach was growling for snacks, and she wanted to read another chapter or two of the book she had waiting back at her hideout, before she had to return home for dinner.

And so, she set out through the woods on elf-light treads... unaware of the shadow that silently pursued her. Of course, Anitra had made extensive preparations to ensure this. Not only had the Rakshasa agent used his shapeshifting and swiftness to herd the girl towards a pre-arranged exit where she could wait to intercept her, he'd also acquired for her two handy tools that made a pursuit through the forest quite a bit easier. One was a hooded cloak of mottled greens, of the same kind habitually worn by elven hunters, trackers and scouts - designed to blend perfectly into the surroundings, letting her disappear into the undergrowth as long as she didn't move while Tiriana's eyes were on her. The other was a greasy ointment that she'd rubbed on her skin - one that hid her scent, rendering her effectively invisible to the many forest-critters who relied on their noses to warn them about approaching predators or prey. Another favorite of elven hunters, as well as any other hunter who could afford it - the elves tended to sell it to foreigners only at a significant mark-up, if they were willing to do so at all.

The final piece of her stealth-gear, however, she'd brought with her. The backpack she'd worn hadn't just been part of her 'lone-wolf adventurer' disguise, after all - she'd packed it back at the Utopia, filling it with any kind of adventuring-gear she could imagine she might need, much of it created by the Utopia's peerless craftsmen and thus beyond the reach of all but the most affluent and well-connected adventurers. In this case, the bit that had proven useful was a small talisman - a monkey sculpted from bronze, his tiny hands covering his ears, with semi-precious gemstones for eyes. It had been enchanted with a spell she'd known of mostly because it was part of Blake's own repertoire - Sphere of Silence - and could cast it for a decent while before running out of juice. Currently, it was hanging from her neck, its shiny surface and glowing eyes hidden beneath her cloak as it did its thing, silencing the rustling of the undergrowth as she moved through it as well as the warning-cries of the occasional small critter or bird spooked by her presence.

Between this gear and her inhumanly-sharp eyes' ability to track her target without fail despite the intervening trees and bushes, she was able to keep on Tiriana's trail without too much trouble - soon finding herself led to the expected hideout. It proved to be less of a treehouse, and more of a natural fortification - a large bramble-bush, whose thorns looked plenty intimidating despite not having been magically encouraged to grow to dagger-size like those of the town's hedge-wall. A small tunnel, generally covered by a small mass of loose, dried bramble, partially trimmed open and partially dug into the ground beneath, led inside. Needless to say, Anitra couldn't follow her mark beyond that point, but she could easily imagine what waited beyond the tunnel. A hollow within the huge bush, likely insulated with tent-cloth to keep the rain out, with just enough room for a few books, some purloined snacks, an oil-lamp, and a lonely girl.

After carefully memorizing the location and marking it with a cut on the back of a tree-trunk well away from the 'entrance' of the base - it was hardly the only bramble-bush in the area, after all - Anitra retreated. Now she knew where to catch her mark - it was time to prepare. Tomorrow, they'd be ready... and in the meantime, well, she might as well trudge back to the campsite and explain her plan to Blake and Direza in person, once she'd retrieved her backpack from the inn and checked out. She'd have to give the agent her compliments, too, and let him know that he should continue his work - trying to back-track her father from this settlement to wherever he'd come from before. The further back they went, the more unlikely it was that they'd find any good candidates for recruitment... but as had just been illustrated, you never did know what you might find. There could be other half-elves daughters out there, after all!

A few hours later, she walked into the campsite as the amber evening-light filtered down from above, and got a bit of a surprise. Blake was awake - that much was expected - and currently feeding on the bloody remains of a deer. Direza, meanwhile, was surrounded by gray-furred shapes - wolves - near the edge of the burned-out clearing... specifically, she was on her hands and knees with one of them vigorously mounting her from behind, his hips a blur, while she buried her face underneath the tail of another. Several more wolves milled around her, apparently waiting their turn.

Busy was she was, Direza hadn't noticed her mistress' return, but Blake lifted his head from his gory meal and flashed her a rather grotesque smile. Ah, you're back, my love! I hope the mission is proceeding satisfactorily? He called telepathically, acting remarkably nonchalant for all that he was clearly trying to avoid tipping Direza off. Returning the smile quizzically, Anitra snuck in closer to get a better look. The wolf in front of Direza was clearly female, she noted - the dark elf was working several fingers into her canine pussy while ardently tonguing the bitch's tailhole. The _male_wolf behind her, meanwhile, was clearly 'tied' with her asshole, his swollen knot locking him in place inside her sphincter.

I've enjoyed some success, yes... Anitra replied to Blake, using their link again. But that aside, would you care to inform me what's going on here? Chuckling, he lowered his face to resume his meal.Oh, well... after I woke up, she performed a passable bit of oral service on me, apparently on your orders... and it made me think, you know? On several occasions, you've helped entertain my Melora with a bit of casual torture - so I figured this was my chance to pay you back for that by arranging a spot of new humiliation for your Direza while you were gone! Granted, I wasn't _ sure _ if I could time it so that you'd return while she was in the middle of it, but I managed - helps that I can sense your whereabouts even when we aren't talking, so I started preparing once I felt you move in our direction again.

As for the details, once Blake had woken up and received the ordered blowjob - though that term only arguably applied to Direza's efforts, considering that she didn't have a prayer of fitting anything beyond the first inch or two of his very tip inside her mouth - he'd gotten hungry. Hunting in the woods wasn't really an option, considering his size - but his recent studies of magic had broadened his abilities significantly, and he had, in fact, prepared for situations such as this. A Detect Life spell had allowed him to sense all the animals in the area - and also let him target a Control Beasts spell on a distant wolf pack. Now manipulated by him, they'd homed in unerringly on an also-detected deer, brought it down, and then dragged it through the woods to his clearing. Might sound unnecessarily complicated, but honestly, it was easier than trying to overcome a deer's instinctive aversion to going anywhere _ near _me... he commented dryly.

Blake had then facetiously decided that the wolves deserved some kind of reward for bringing him such a splendid meal - and casually ordered Direza to provide it. Actually, I'd envisioned something in the order of a gang-bang... I remember you telling me about an interesting experience you had with a pack of dogs back when we were chasing unicorns, after all. But, alas, those were basically canine soldiers under Silver Fang's command, while this is a natural wolf-pack - meaning that the only males in it are the Alpha and a couple of younger males he hasn't driven off yet. Still, I like to think I showed impressive creativity in just ordering her to get them off with her fingers and tongue instead, then - and she certainly seemed suitably humiliated!

Anitra certainly had to agree on that count. It wasn't the first time Direza had found herself pleasuring a dumb beast on command, and one might argue that a pack of wild, noble wolves represented less of a low than a stupid, smelly donkey... but on the other hand, those donkeys were cared for by their keepers - including getting occasional baths. These wolves, on the other hand... well, they probably got rained on occasionally, and that was about it. The scent of wolf-musk was thick in the air around them, and the assholes she was now pushing her tongue into had literally never been washed, wiped or otherwise cleaned. Meanwhile, the wolf mounting her had a very different attitude to a skittish donkey, and there was something deliciously dominant about the way he'd marked the ash-gray skin on her back with his claws before wrapping his forelegs tightly around her waist. This wasn't some tame dog, trained to perform - this was a wild beast, accustomed to claiming bitches with his strength and virility.

Looking at her, Direza had that characteristic blush to her face - indicative of enduring embarrassment - while her dilated pupils hinted at the visceral pleasure brought on by the rapid-fire pounding the wolf Alpha was doling out. A lovely scene indeed... and thanks to Blake's clever use of their telepathic link, Anitra could choose exactly how and when she stepped into it. After a bit of consideration, she waited until the Alpha had finished - blasting his canine cum into the depths of Direza's tight ass. At this point, he acted as Anitra had expected based on her own experience with canines - climbing off the drow's scarred back, swinging his leg over it while his engorged knot rotated within her, and finally ending up ass-to-ass as he waited for the tie to end. It wouldn't take long, most likely - Direza's ass had seen a fair few visitors, including Melora's equine cock on a regular basis, so her sphincter wasn't as tight as it had once been. Once the knot shrank by just a bit, the wolf would be able to pull out with a minimum of discomfort.

While stuck in this humiliating position, Direza obediently continued to pleasure the pack's bitches with her fingers and tongue, only to freeze as Anitra loomed over her. "Come, now, what's with this half-hearted rimjob?" she gently chided her submissive servant, wagging one finger. "I thought I taught you better than that. Don't just lick it, work your tongue inside properly! Kiss that canine ass like it's your lover's lips, and make them _feel_just how much you appreciate the opportunity to serve them..." An orgasmic shudder went through the ashen-skinned girl despite the immobility of the canine cock lodged in her backside as she realized that her humiliation was being eagerly watched by her beloved mistress - and true to orders, she threw herself back into her labors with redoubled intensity.

For a while, Anitra simply enjoyed the display. Once the Alpha had managed to get loose, the females were soon nudged aside so that he could mount Direza from the front - giving her a chance to clean off his cock while the two younger males sniffed at her rear, nipped at each other as they argued about who'd go next, and whined impatiently in expectation of their turn. Normally, the Alpha wouldn't have given them any chance to mate with a female at all, and any attempt to do so would likely have seen them ejected from the pack, but with Blake's control overriding most of their instincts, he simply watched them with tolerant superiority while waiting for Direza to finish licking the last of the cum-and-ass-slime mix off his cherry-red shaft.

Once he cleared off, the first of the younger males was on her back in a flash - smaller, less well-equipped, less experienced, and far less dominant in his demeanor, but filled with youthful vigor and puppy-dog eagerness. There were more females for Direza to handle, too - holding herself up with one arm as the wolf on her back merrily thrust his canine cock into her still-gaping anus, while working two or three fingers of her other hand into the musk-scented pussy before her. The bitch had clearly never been fingered before, let alone received such a deep and impassioned rimjob, but even with her natural instincts overridden in order to march her into position for them, the simple, visceral stimulation was clearly enough to make her pant with desire.

By the time Blake had finished his meal and left the grisly bones as a treat for the wolves who weren't still waiting in line to be serviced by Direza, however, Anitra's blood had been suitably heated by the voyeuristic thrill, and she was more than ready to feel something between her own legs. The wolves were actually a bit tempting - surely, the Alpha was good for another ride - but on the other hand, Blake was right there, and ever-so-much better equipped. Sure, he didn't have a knot, but hey, nobody was perfect.

Thus, she watched the rest of the show from underneath him as he eagerly pounded her pussy. Eight bitches were given the full tongue-and-fingers service, their tailholes licked sparkly-clean as each of them was fingered to a panting canine orgasm. The three males each got a chance to ride her ass, filling it with their thin, watery cum before mounting her head for a post-coital cleaning. By the time they were done, she smelled every bit as musky as they did, and had clearly climaxed at least half a dozen times. With their services thus repaid in full, they were allowed to lope off carrying the bones and other leftovers of Blake's meal as an additional prize - before he finally relinquished control of the pack a safe distance away from their camp-site.

I'd actually originally planned to have them finish up by 'marking' her thoroughly... Blake confessed mentally. But then it occurred to me that this place is a bit short on bathing-facilities, and that you might need her for something that smelling like a canine toilet might make her less suited for, so... ah well! Anitra joined him in that conclusion - it would have made for a beautiful finale - but it would indeed have been likely to impact her plans.No convenient forest-streams around to bathe in, then? she queried, getting a sigh and a headshake in return. Indeed not. There's a few muddy watering-holes around, from what I can tell - but the nearest supply of potable water is the river we crossed just before we hit the Darkwoods. "Actually," he continued out loud, "I'll probably fly back there for a drink while you and Direza are snoozing. I'll fill up a barrel while I'm there, so you two can refill your canteens and freshen yourselves up tomorrow morning, 'kay?"

Blake's 48-hour days and 12-hour nights meant that it was even odds whether he'd sleep at night - when Anitra was inclined to do so - or during the day. But regardless, she was quite used to sleeping while he was awake. Back in the Utopia, they often shared a nest during the night regardless, with him absorbed in his studies or reading briefings and documents from the Council while they cuddled together - but when out adventuring like this, it made more sense for Blake to do what he could while his passengers rested.

As Blake took off - mentally declaring that at least it was easier to get through the treetops without the palanquin strapped to his back - Anitra sought her bedroll, and invited Direza to join her there to 'help keep her warm'. The drow, still a bit woozy from her lengthy, humiliating assignment, approached it with a touch of hesitation, despite her eternal eagerness to share as much skin-to-skin contact with her mistress as she could get away with. "Are you certain, my lady?" She asked with obvious reluctance. "I'm afraid I... may smell a bit..." Anitra, however, just grinned and gestured towards her again. "I'm well aware. Now get that sweet ass down here already! As for the smell... I kind of _like_it. It serves as a nice reminder of just what kind of wanton, unrestrained slut you are - and who knows? It might give me some nice, wild dreams..."

Soon, they were spooning under the blanket, Direza's breaths coming in short, helpless mewls as Anitra's arms embraced her, and her powerful fingers reached down between her legs to casually play with her until-then untouched pussy. "Reminds you a bit of our first time, doesn't it?" she whispered into the drow's ear, causing a pre-orgasmic shudder to run through her. "Yes, mistress... you claimed me that day, and I have been yours and yours alone ever since... as I will be for the rest of my days!" she replied breathlessly, writhing as Anitra's fingers dug deeper. "Sweet talker..." she chuckled in reply, gently biting the sensitive tip of one pointy ear as she pushed her deliciously submissive servant over the edge into a slow, lingering climax.

The next day, after both of them had washed off the worst of the wolf-musk and sex-smells using the biting-cold water that Blake had ferried back from the river and enjoyed a filling if not terribly flavorful breakfast - mainly preserved rations brought along from the Utopia - it was time to put the plan into action. Not that there was any hurry, considering that they couldn't do anything while Tiriana was a the temple-school! Anitra and Direza enjoyed a leisurely walk through the woods as they made their way to Tiriana's hideout, then settled down nearby and waited for their mark to finish school and make her way there - this time without any mysterious obstacles herding her towards one path or another. They all ended in the same spot, after all.

Finally, in the early afternoon, the black-haired half-elf maiden appeared between the bushes, moving swiftly and stealthily, unaware of the hidden observers. Like most half-elves, she was of slender build and had a somewhat narrow face with ears that tended towards the pointy - while still possessing more in the way of curves than any full-blooded elf - and her fine-featured face showing relief as her sanctuary came into view. It was thus with a twinge of regret that Anitra stepped out of the underbrush behind her, just as she was bending down to pull away the dried bramble concealing the entrance to her hideout, and cleared her throat. The girl bolted upright and spun around, eyes wide with shock - turning rapidly to fear as she found herself facing an unknown, human adventurer, trapped between her and the bramble-bush. The one thing that Anitra could really criticize about her half-sister's hideout was the fact that there was only one way in or out - she'd made sure of that the first time she visited, moving all the way around to look for any other exits. So right now, there was nowhere for Tiriana to run.

Before she could try anyway, Anitra raised both of her hands placatingly. "Please, don't panic. I mean you no harm. Quite the opposite, really!" This failed to entirely comfort the scared girl before her, but at least the reassurance that she wasn't about to be attacked directly was enough to take some of the panic out of her eyes - she no longer looked as if she'd try to test the speed of Anitra's hands by bolting left or right. Good thing for her, considering that she wouldn't have much of a chance to win that contest, but if she was assuming that Anitra was just a human, she wouldn't know that.

"Then... what do you want? Why'd you follow me here? Or... did you wait for me here?" Tiriana asked, voice quavering as her eyes darted around in search of other ambushers - Direza, however, was well-concealed behind a tree, standing stock-still, and thus evaded her sharp, leaf-green eyes. "I wanted to talk to you - privately, away from prying eyes and curious ears." Anitra replied, perfectly truthfully. "There's some things I need to tell you. An opportunity I want to give you. I won't try to force you to do anything you don't want to, however - I simply want to give you a choice."

"Well... talk, then. I'm listening." Tiriana said, standing up straight, clearly trying to keep her voice even as she wrapped her hands tightly together in front of her in a fairly obvious attempt to keep them from visibly shaking. Doing her best to smile comfortingly, Anitra nodded. "Good. First of all, though... I assume you don't know much at all about your father, correct?" The half-elf blinked, confused, mind whirring behind her eyes as she answered. "No... only that he was a human adventurer and that he left before I was even born. Probably doesn't know I exist, assuming he's even still alive..."

Anitra shrugged, rubbing her chin. "Well, about half of that is true. I expect he's probably still alive out there, somewhere, but I don't know about that any more than you do. However, you're definitely wrong on one count: He isn't - or wasn't - human." She could hardly blame Tiriana for her expression of disbelief, but quickly pressed on. "Oh, I'm sure he seemed_human, to the casual observer. Just like _you seem half-_human at a glance. But he was more than human - _so much more... and you carry his blood. Which means that there's a lot more to you than being just another half-elf."

A spark of hope was appearing in her eyes, now, even as she struggled to control her face. It was obvious that she was trying to remain skeptical, but at the same time... what girl, in her situation,wouldn't have daydreamed about her unknown father suddenly returning to take her away from it all, or perhaps turning out to be some long-lost prince, leading her to be whisked away to a paradisaical life of royal ease. Anitra herself had spent a fair bit of time during her childhood speculating about her unknown father - despite having a much easier and more pleasant life than this poor girl!

Clearing her throat, Anitra delivered a half-bow and a grin. "Ah, incidentally, allow me to introduce myself. I am Anitra the DragonRider. My father was a black-haired adventurer who impregnated my mother and then disappeared well before I was born. I've never met him - but he left me a mighty legacy when he passed his blood down to me. The blood of the Black Dragons!" At this, she dramatically discarded her cloak, revealing the gleaming, black-scaled armor beneath, along with her almost inhumanly voluptuous physique and the eye-catching mithril hilt of BlackFire.

Reaching a hand forth towards the now wide-eyed girl, she balled it into a fist with a devils-may-care grin. "You probably mistook me for a human, didn't you? Look closer at my eyes - they're the only real hint anyone gets before they learn the hard way that I'm much stronger, faster and tougher than any pure-blooded human who've ever lived. I'm effectively immortal, recover fast, possess a potent resistance to magic, poison and drugs, and that's not even half of it! All thanks to the dragon-blood that flows in my veins, and the bond I share with my steed - the mightiest and most fearsome creature in the entire world; a Black Dragon. And you... you, Tiriana Bal'fiel Lorasatra - you are just like me. You're a DragonRider, marked by your black hair and your bloodline. Everything I have can be yours too!"

Tiriana stumbled back, overwhelmed and wide-eyed, not even noticing that her leg brushed across the bramble - drawing a couple of thin, bloody lines on her ankle. "That... can't be right..." she half-mumbled. "I'm not strong, or fast, or tough, and I certainly don't heal fast... I should know..." Anitra nodded in understanding, still smiling. "Indeed. Right now, you aren't a DragonRider. You're simply a... candidate. The blood is within you, but... dormant. All you need is a trigger, a catalyst, a steed- and that sleeping power will awaken. That's why I came to find you. In a distant place, a black dragon lies lonely, without a rider - without a purpose. All I wish is to bring you two together - granting him the focus to be more than just a monster, and you the strength to be more than just a bullied and put-upon half-elf girl."

It was a pretty good speech, if Anitra had to say so herself. But despite having clearly been knocked back on her heels by the initial revelations, Tiriana was clearly no fool - and somehow, she seemed to be rallying, pushing her mind away from frozen, overwhelmed disbelief, and towards actual thinking. "That... sounds very impressive..." She now said, a suspicious ring to her voice. "But... if all that's true, where's 'your' black dragon? If such a beast was anywhere near, all the animals would have fled or hid - but the birds are still singing." Sighing, Anitra shrugged. "Well... fact is, useful though a black dragon is, they do have their limitations. Bit too big to fit between the trees in a dense forest like this. Mine is encamped a few hours' walk from here, and I'd be happy to introduce you..."

It wasn't hard to tell which way the little cogs inside Tiriana's head were spinning, now that they'd started turning again. An unbelievable, too-good-to-be-true story, leading to an invitation to follow this unknown, strange-eyed woman deeper into the woods, further away from town. One could hardly blame the alarm-bells from ringing, especially since decades of being preyed upon by bullies had sharpened her paranoia to such a fine edge. "Umm... sure..." she said haltingly. "I'll just head back to town and pack some necessities, okay? Then I'll come meet your dragon." Anitra shot her an exasperated look and sighed.

"You really need to work on your delivery, sister..." she said with a sad head-shake. "Still, it's... understandable that you'd be a bit reluctant to simply take my unsupported word for it. Fortunately, I brought somebody else along - someone who might be able to convince you that I'm no liar." This was Direza's cue, and as she appeared from behind the tree that had concealed her so far - completely hidden by her long robes, showing not an inch of skin - she clearly only ratcheted Tiriana's paranoia up another few notches.

She was already starting to inch sideways, presumably trying to improve her chances of making a mad dash around Anitra without getting caught, when Direza finally threw back her hood and revealed her ash-gray skin, ivory-white hair, and blood-red eyes. Immediate, unthinking terror paralyzed the girl at that point, freezing her in place as she watched the bogeyman of elvenkind stand before her. "This is Direza - a Drow, as you can see..." Anitra said by way of introduction. "I'm sure you've been taught all about them. Cruel, proud and sadistic, powerful and fearsome, and always eager to steal away any elves - or half-elves - they can get their hands on. Indeed, as that symbol hanging from her neck hints, Direza here isn't just your work-a-day Drow marauder, but a genuine Cleric of Lolth! Terrifying, eh?"

Tiriana certainly seemed to think so. Her teeth were chattering as she tried to talk, and she seemed just shy of pissing herself as she struggled to make her paralyzed legs cooperate again. That terror, however, turned to fresh disbelief as Direza took another step forwards... and then fell to her knees, before genuflecting fully before her, bowing down until her forehead touched the ground. Stepping up before her, Anitra reached forwards a foot - which Direza immediately kissed. "This is what it means to be a DragonRider, Tiriana..." Anitra intoned. "In the dim and forgotten past, our kind frightened even the goods. Even now, our magnificence can bring even the mightiest and proudest to their knees. Once, Direza served the spider-goddess - but now, she serves me, and happily at that."

"Don't you, my pet?" She asked as she bent down to pat the back of Direza's head. "With all my heart and soul..." the drow immediately intoned. Straightening up, Anitra glanced back at Tiriana, noting how her expression had gone blank. Somewhere behind it, her mind was whirring, trying to come up with some halfway believable scenario that might lead to a display such as the one before her. Panning her eyes down, Anitra then smiled. "Oh, Direza... our half-elf friend here seems to have scratched her ankle. Go heal her, and make sure you show suitable humility before one who carries the blood of the ancient dragons..."

"Yes, my mistress..." came the reply, followed by Direza crawling forwards across the dirt, face resolutely downturned, until she was humbling herself directly before the still-frozen Tiriana. Leaning forth, she kissed both of the half-elf's feet - dusty from the long walk through the woods - in turn, and then reached out to gently touch the two tiny scratches on her ankle, whispering a prayer. Healing magic flowed from her fingertips, wiping away the two thin scratches without a trace. Tiriana observed the whole thing, wide-eyed. "Well?" Anitra finally asked. "Convinced yet? Or should I have her perform for you a bit more? I've taught her all kinds of tricks..."

Tiriana looked down at the submissive Drow, wide-eyed in disbelief. Then a shudder seemed to go through her, and as she lifted her gaze again, her face hardened and her shoulders squared. Well, as much as her rather narrow set of shoulders could, anyway. "And you have the temerity to call me out on my 'delivery'..." she said harshly, glaring at Anitra. "You turn up with a story like that, making a speech right out of a book, promising me the moon and the stars - and then, a dramatic reveal! A 'drow' appearing behind a tree to join the performance! As if I'd never heard of illusions, or makeup for that matter..."

Now it was Anitra's turn to get knocked back on her heels, grimacing as the half-elf pointed to a weakness in her plan that she hadn't realized before then. She was so used to Direza's presence that it hadn't occurred to her that a submissive Drow servant was so_literally_ unbelievable that anyone who saw her under these kinds of circumstances would be more likely to assume that it was a trick of some kind. And, thinking of it critically, it really_wouldn't_ be terribly hard to produce a fake Drow, would it? Damn! This girl sharper than she'd expected - she'd make one heck of a DragonRider, assuming she could convince her to try!

Taking a deep breath, Anitra rubbed her head, and then looked Tiriana right in the eyes. "Look... fine. Maybe I went a bit over-the-top trying to shock-and-awe you into going along. But I_wasn't lying_. There's this place called the Dragon Utopia, where dragons and humans coexist peacefully. A black dragon arrived there just recently - but black dragons are dangerous. Without a rider, they're... unstable. Prone to lashing out. He needs_a rider, or the other dragons will end up having to kill him, before he starts killing _them off. He needs you. DragonRider candidates like yourself are virtually indistinguishable from regular humans - or half-elves, in your case - so they aren't easy to find! We went to a lot of trouble to track you down, you know? And we don't have enough time to find someone else. So... why don't you just give me a chance, please?"

It wasn't a fancy, bardic speech, but it was impassioned and came right from the heart. Doubt made Tiriana's stony facade tremble, and she was hugging herself as if trying to resist some wild impulse. The desire for adventure, for jumping on this crazy idea that had been presented to her, was warring with her sense of realism. "After all..." Anitra continued, trying to give her the final nudge. "...what have you got to lose, really? I know what your life is like here. If you turn me down, and I have to leave empty-handed, you'll have to go back to that. All I'm asking is that you walk with me as far as the clearing - then you can meet my dragon and confirm for yourself that I'm telling the truth. Okay?"

Tiriana hesitated for another moment, a shudder running through her body as she was reminded of the torment that was her daily life. A cold and distant mother, bullies humiliating her every day, adults looking down on her with scornful eyes. Wasn't it worth taking a crazy chance just to get away from that? Apparently, it was. Sighing, Tiriana let her shoulders drop. "I'll just grab some things from my hideout, then I'll come with you..." She replied, voice dark. Her desire for a way out of her unendurable life had won the day against her better sense - but it had clearly been a hard-fought victory, and not without casualties on the winning side.

When she emerged from the bramble-bush a handful of minutes later, however - carrying a small, dirty sack that presumably contained whatever small number of beloved items she'd assembled in there - she paused for a moment, gaze lingering on Anitra who was casually leaning against a nearby tree with Direza still kneeling obediently at her feet. "Can I really be like you?" She asked, a hungry hopefulness in her voice. "Will people bow and scrape before me too?" Anitra chuckled and nodded. "Certainly - if you want servants, you will not find them hard to come by. Power always attracts those eager to bow before it. Oh, but you can't have_this_ one..." she quickly made clear, patting Direza on the head again with a fond smile. "She's mine. But hey, if you want to swing by to visit sometimes, you'll be welcome. I'll let you ride her around like a pony if you'd like..."

A tremor of joy ran through Direza's body at this promised humiliation, and it was with visible regret that she soon afterwards climbed to her feet in order to follow her mistress and their new recruit through the woods. Tiriana's pace was hardly going to hurry them along - indeed, she seemed to drag her feet, as if something within her still fought to convince her that she was better off turning around and running back home. But this loss of speed was somewhat countered by her obvious familiarity with the forest - she easily found paths where Anitra had seen none, letting them make better time than she'd imagined possible. Still, it was still a couple of hours of walking - more than enough time for her to recount their success-so-far to Blake via telepathy, and for him to make preparations for departure - the palanquin had been cleverly designed so that he could pull it on by himself with a bit of difficulty, though Anitra would have to tighten a few straps when they arrived.

Upon entering the burned-out clearing, Tiriana was suitably impressed by the sight of Blake, waiting placidly with the palatial palanquin strapped to his back. "It's real. He's real. Is he really_yours?"_ She practically gibbered. Finally, it seemed like her lingering doubts were melting away - of course, it was hard to argue with the sight of a fully-grown black dragon. Laughing, Anitra stepped up closer and caressed his snout. "He's mine, all right - and I am his. It's an equitable sort of arrangement - the bond that binds us benefit us both. Though I can't help but feel that I got the better end of the bargain, in the end..." Chuckling, Blake pushed himself up off the ground, display his gleaming, scaly mass even more magnificently than before. "If you say so, my dear - but you won't hear me complaining either..." he commented dryly, causing Tiriana to jump slightly.

Then she seemed to rally, and stepped up to introduce herself, prompting Blake to give her a gracious nod despite the lack of need for such a thing. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance - I am Blake. My brother, Slate, is eager to meet you... so by all means, climb aboard so we can get under way. It's a solid week's flight back to the Dragon Utopia, and the sooner we get going, the sooner we'll get there." Direza had already busied herself gathering up their camping-gear and stuffing it into the palanquin's luggage-compartment, while Anitra checked and tightened the requisite straps, making doubly sure that the bloody thing wouldn't tumble off his back in mid-flight.

Tiriana had a distant, dreamlike look in her eyes as she used Blake's proffered forelimb to climb up into the palanquin, and once they took off, she was practically hanging out the window, watching the forest she'd called home her whole life recede into the distance as a bright new world spread out before her, to the horizon and beyond. Once they reached cruising-altitude, though, the air turned sufficiently cold and thin to chase her back inside - at which point a bit of her old uncertainty seemed to start leaking back in, somewhat belatedly. "What will mother think when I don't show up for dinner?" She groused, pulling on her lower lip. "Maybe I should have left a note. But nobody would know where to find it, I guess."

Looking at the girl, Anitra carefully considered the best tone to take, ultimately settling on 'casually dismissive'. "Well, I've no doubt that lots of townsfolk are aware of you sneaking out into the woods on a daily basis... your mother included." She replied, shrugging. "They just never cared enough to try and _stop_you. When you don't turn up, they'll probably send out search-parties just for the sake of appearance, and when they find no trace of you, they'll likely just conclude that you ran afoul of some hungry beast or wandering monster out there. End of story, as far as they're concerned - everyone moves on with their lives. Your mom might even be able to start working her way back into her family's good graces."

This caused Tiriana to deflate somewhat... but at the same time, her eyes hardened as she was so carefully reminded of what kind of life she was leaving behind. "Well, once we get back to the Utopia, you can send a message to your mother if you want her to know you're still alive. Heck, once your powers have been awakened, you could even fly on back there to deliver it yourself, if you wanted to - and maybe deliver a few messages to your 'friends' from school while you're at it, hey? But I think you'll find, once you're a DragonRider in truth as well as potential, you won't care about any of them anymore. You'll have other and higher priorities to occupy your mind."

Enheartening words, certainly, and Anitra spent the next few hours driving the lesson home by regaling Tiriana with tales about their destination, the Utopia. The thronging hordes of dragons, who would welcome and respect her. The people who lived under those dragons' protection, who would revere and defer to her - including the legendary dwarven smith who'd soon be forging dragonscale armor for her, too! Still, she couldn't talk the whole week of travel-time away - nor did she_want_ to. Indeed, even as she waxed poetic about the Utopia's beauty and wealth, other matters were bounding around in the back of her mind.

Tiriana had made her choice, certainly, and meeting Blake appeared to have washed away her earlier doubts. Stiffening her spine against any kind of change-of-heart didn't seem to be hard, either. But while she had already accomplished the mission the Utopia sent her out on - as well as enjoying her break from mothering - SHE still had another 'mission' in mind. So, how did she best approach that? Simply using her own strength and force of personality, along with Tiriana's lack of viable retreat-options, didn't seem like a good idea - or rather, it seemed likely to have long-term consequences, which was the worst_kind of consequences. She had to ease the lonely half-elf into it, make her _agree to it...

One possible opening did occur to her, but it'd take a bit more time before that became available. Hence, when Blake piped in with a telepathic question, she was happy for the distraction. You know, meeting this girl has made me wonder about something... he commented. Her name is Tiriana Bal'fiel Lorasatra, right? And those sort of names - you know, with multiple parts - are pretty common in other species, not just elves, now that I think about it. So why are you just... 'Anitra'? It didn't occur to me to think about it before, seeing as us dragons tend to make do with just one name too - there aren't that many of us to go around, after all, so there isn't much need to complicate things overmuch. But you were raised human, and _ they _ are nothing if not plentiful!

Chuckling inwardly, Anitra sent him a nod. Indeed, humans normally have family-names too. Thing is... you get those from your parents, and my dear father didn't bother to leave one for me! Which was a bit cheap of him, honestly, on reflection. One thing the Rakshasa agents had learned in a hurry as they traced him back through previously visited areas was that he had names to spare! Possibly to avoid getting chased down by angry spouses or former lovers, he apparently adopted a new moniker in every town and city he entered. In Karistad, he'd used the name of Galderan, but before that he'd been Ricaud, Gilmyn, Tibost, and a dozen others - indeed, he'd been calling himself Phinades when he visited the town of Il'nyadrel and fathered Tiriana.

As for my mother... well, she presumably _ had _ a family-name once. Anitra continued after that brief, mental side-track. But the Amazonian Order is pretty serious. When you join them, you swear off any previous familial connections and relationships. The Amazons become your sisters, your sole family - and thus, you also give up your family-name. Hence, my mother was simply 'Arthenia the Amazon' - and I, thus, am simply Anitra the DragonRider. Still, that's as good a family-name as I could have wished for, in the end!

This led to an exchange of affections so gooey, she would not have been too embarrassed to do so by any means other than their perfectly secure telepathic link - and nicely passed the time until her sharp eyes noticed Tiriana squirming uncomfortably. It was time! Leaning back in the pillows that filled the palanquin's interior, she stretched and sighed theatrically. "You know, these long-haul flights..." she intoned lightly "...efficient though they may be in terms of getting you from one end of the continent to the other in a hurry, they do have a few drawbacks. Like how you wind up busting for a pee after a while."

Nodding eagerly, obviously glad that somebody else brought it up before she had to, Tiriana nervously queried "Um... so, do we land anytime soon, for... you know... that?" With false regret, Anitra shook her head. "Not for another, oh, five or six hours, by my reckoning. When we're in a hurry - as we are now - we fly in twelve-hour jumps, four in a row, followed by a twelve-hour rest on the ground. Blake could probably fly quite a bit longer than that without a rest if he had to, but the rest of us have our limits! Mind, if you can't hold it that long - and I can't blame you if you can't - don't worry."

Waving Direza - who had perked up noticeably when the topic of pee was broached - closer, Anitra leaned back deeper into the pillows, spread her legs, and pulled her leathery red panties aside. Normally, she would've already stripped off her armor entirely at this state of the journey, but with a new passenger on board, she'd had to pretend to a veneer of modesty for at least a little while. That veneer was now falling away, and Tiriana watched wide-eyed and with a growing blush as Direza eagerly dove between the spread thighs. A subtle signal from Anitra made her stop just short of her usual approach - wrapping her lips around the top of the vaginal slit, ensuring that she could catch every drop without fail - and instead she hovered a half-inch back as she performed her duty, leaving the obviously-shaken watcher with no doubt that she was, indeed, gulping down the contents of Anitra's bladder without hesitation or the slightest sign of gagging.

As the flow stopped and Direza fastidiously licked the last few drops from Anitra's upper labia, she grinned over at Tiriana. "Well? She'll be happy to perform the same service for you, if you like. Seriously. She'll literally thank you for it." This sent a shiver of lust through the drow, as the by-now familiar humiliation of acting as her mistress' personal toilet was given this fresh spin, but Tiriana shook her head furiously, as if she was trying to dislodge a spider from her hair. "N... no, no, I'm fine... I can hold it..." she rattled off, eyes still glued to the two of them as Anitra pulled her panties back into place.

Grinning, Anitra shook her own head - in a far more confident, leisurely manner. "Come, now, dear sister - there's little point in being a prude, especially here where it's just us girls. We DragonRiders are sexual creatures, you'll soon come to learn - indeed, the transformation removes your ability to feel shame, among other things. Quite the bonus, I think - after all, when has shame ever made anything better?" Tiriana seemed to ponder this question for a moment, before her eyes suddenly widened. "Wait... all this talk about 'bonding' with a dragon... you don't mean..?"

With a naughty grin, Anitra nodded. "Exactly. The bond is established sexually. Now, I'm not going to lie - the first time? It's going to hurt like you wouldn't believe. Sheer agony. But once that bond is established, your body will... shift. Become more flexible. The rest is pure pleasure. Look... black dragons? They're all_male. DragonRiders are all _female. We're a matched set - we can even have children together! Once we get back to the Utopia, I'll introduce you to mine and Blake's son! And once you've tried it, you will learn - as I did - that there's no greater ecstasy than having a dragon on top of, and inside, you." Leaning back in a way that showed off her own curves as well as she could, she grinned over at her still furiously blushing half-sister. "Oh, and on top of that, our greatest power - the Quickening - is derived from ingesting sexual fluids... from either end. So yeah, you're probably going to have to leave that naivete and embarrassment at the door..."

Biting her lip, Tiriana looked away - her face settling into the same expression of stony disbelief as when Anitra had first told her of her true nature, albeit softened somewhat by her incandescent cheeks. "You're... seriously saying that I will be expected to... to... have sex with something this big?" she demanded incredulously, waving a hand downwards as if to indicate the dragon who was currently carrying all three of them through the air with ease. "That's ridiculous! Forget pain or... or pleasure, or whatever - I'd be torn to shreds! Unless they're... umm... a lot smaller than one would think..." she finally recanted, blush intensifying.

Anitra chuckled, shaking her head. "Well, I guess that depends on how big - or small - you think they are. My own reaction, when I first saw what my lover is packing? Not as big as I might have feared, but still big enough to 'tear me to shreds', as you put it." Leaning forwards again, she flashed the girl the most comforting smile she could manage. "Look... I know this is coming at you cold. But don't forget, I was the same as you, once. When I first met Blake, I was completely inexperienced - my knowledge of sex was derived entirely from adolescent gossip and speculation. He took my virginity that night... and while that made the experience even more painful than it might otherwise have been, I don't regret that. It also made it far more meaningful, after all. Still, there's no need for you to walk into the literal dragon's den just as blindly as I did - after all, I'm here! I can teach you what it means to be a DragonRider, give you an idea of what to expect - even help you prepare for what's before you."

This hint, however, seemed to bounce off Tiriana's stony expression as, once again, her suspension of disbelief was tested. Continuing to press at this point seemed... inadvisable. It was time to pull back the feelers, and just let the girl stew for a bit. With a sigh, she shrugged. "Look, if you find it that hard to believe that we DragonRiders can handle everything our steeds have and more... I'll prove it to you, okay? Next time we land. We're in a hurry, but not so much that we can't allow ourselves a slightly longer break if it'll help you feel more comfortable about what waits at the end of the journey." I'm sure _ you _ don't mind, do you love? She asked telepathically as she conveyed her plans to Blake. He gave a mental snort. Sometimes, I wonder which you enjoy more - watching, or having an audience. I suppose I don't care, though, so long as _ I _ get to be a _participant!_"

Tiriana, for her part, nodded slowly, her face still notably doubtful. Still, it was hours more 'till the next planned landing, and the conversation had just decidedly dried up, so... well, maybe it wouldn't hurt to turn the heat a bit up while letting the pot simmer away, hmm? Direza hadn't strayed far from her side after finishing her 'drink', and had placidly settled down to wait on her mistress' pleasure once it became clear that she wouldn't get the opportunity to demean herself by acting as a half-elf's toilet...today. She was also still wearing the cloak she'd worn in the woods, just as Anitra still wore her armor. Well, that could be corrected...

Once a suitable amount of time - not to mention uncomfortable silence - had passed, Anitra sighed theatrically. "Oh, Direza - help me out of my armor, would you? I rather doubt we'll be getting into any fights in here..." she declared languidly, and the drow immediately leaped into action - helping her to divest herself of the sandals with the reinforced toes, the shin- and thigh-guards, the long wristbands, and finally her chestplate and its attached sheath... well, 'finally' save for the minimalistic, bright-red panties, anyway. Tiriana's eyes widened somewhat as Anitra stripped naked before her - probably realizing only then, as tended to be the case, that her dark-red, heavily-pierced nipples weren't part of her chestguard after all.

Her eyes only grew wider - and her cheeks more rosy - when a mere gesture from Anitra prompted Direza to follow suit, thus revealing that she'd been entirely naked beneath her long cloak the entire time, save only for the soft leather boots she had worn for the walk through the forest. Completely ignoring the third passenger - seemingly, at least - Anitra then pulled the Ring of Priap from the compartment where it had been resting so far, and slipped it on... making certain that Tiriana got a good look at both it and the_results_, so that she'd know how the ring worked. The inexperienced half-elf gasped audibly as Anitra suddenly had a full-figured dick rising ramrod-straight from her groin, the glans gleaming light-purple behind the foreskin - and a hairless ballsack as a bonus, dangling down between her thighs.

She was half-reclining, her back propped up by a pile of cushions, her legs spread - as decent a sex-position as you were likely to find in the cramped confines of the palanquin. Not bothering with words, she simply pulled Direza in closer - into a tight embrace and a hot kiss that already was making the slender dark-elf tremble with joy. A throaty moan escaped her lips as she mounted Anitra's cock, feeling it slide into her tight pussy. Soon, she was riding it merrily, a steady flow of little, ecstatic noises flowing from her lips, while Anitra's busily caressed her neck, nipples and everything in-between. It was softer, more gentle, than what they usually got up to together - although she had been trying to give her favorite submissive plenty of treats lately, as a reward for coming through the 'cum-pickling' trial so well.

Of course, in this case, part of the point was to show Tiriana what sex looked like - the nice kind of sex, all soft and tender and delicate and breathless. From where she was sitting, she had a fine view down Anitra's spread legs, so that she could watch her inexplicable she-cock rhythmically disappear between Direza's ash-gray labia - unless she averted her eyes, something she seemed to find rather difficult at this time. Whether this unwilling voyeur contributed anything to Direza's enjoyment was unclear - but she was no fool, and the fact that she was being put on display for the sake of her mistress' seduction-efforts no doubt did. Of course, the intensely passionate sex she was having with her beloved was probably enough to justify most of the orgasms she had - moaning and trembling, a line of drool forming at the corner of her mouth as the ecstasy repeatedly assailed her. At the very least, she was giving Tiriana a very positive first impression of sexuality!

Between her inhuman stamina and the fact that her magically-summoned dick wasn't limited by mere mortal virility, Anitra saw no reason to let up. She fucked the increasingly overwhelmed Direza continuously for the next three hours, in various holes and positions, ratcheting up the depravity notch by notch as she went along. A notable highlight had Direza bent nearly into a pretzel, with her shoulders on the floor and her ass in the air while Anitra fucked her anally from above - adding gravity to her already powerful thrusts. Seeing the nimble elf thus bent double, an idea occurred to her - and on a whispered order, Direza released her already flagging bladder-control, releasing a hissing stream of piss directly down onto her own face, catching as much of it as she could in her open mouth.

Still, the final blow came a bit later when Anitra, on a whim, turned the tables on their regular interactions. Holding Direza's slender hips in an iron grip, she tongued the drow's freshly-fucked asshole - caressing the reddened rim, then diving inside to seek out flavorful dollops of her own, magically-generated cum, hoping to compare the taste with the real thing. Receiving such a treatment from her beloved mistress sent Direza over the edge into something that more closely resembled an epileptic fit than an orgasm, as the impact of Anitra's highly-skilled tongue was magnified a thousandfold by the emotional weight it carried. Direza had spent countless hours with her tongue lodged as deep inside Anitra's anus as she could reach, and indeed would happily continue applying such tender treatment indefinitely if she was allowed to - but flipped around, it was a rare and precious treat for her to even receive _cunnilingus_from Anitra, and this marked the first time she'd been given a rimjob. As much, it seemed, from sheer joy as from the mind-blowing pleasure of multiple sequential orgasms, she finally collapsed into unconsciousness.

Leaning back, largely satisfied herself, Anitra removed the Ring of Priap from her finger while looking fondly at catatonic drow. Her dark-gray skin gleamed nearly black as it shone with sweat, and little jerks still went through her sleeping body from time to time - possibly the aftershocks of that last, mind-blowing orgasm, or the result of their sexy entanglement continuing in her dreams. She always enjoyed seeing Direza like this. It made her look so... deliciously_vulnerable_, so young and innocent, even if she was exactly none of those things.

Speaking of young and innocent... her eyes panned up to Tiriana, who had retreated into the most distant corner of the palanquin - which wasn't all that distant, ultimately, considering the size of it. The compartment was long enough for any one of them to stretch out on their backs if they wanted to - but if all three of them did it at the same time, they'd be lying partially on top of each other. The whole thing had to fit between Blake's wings, after all. Her eyes were wide, her breathing shallow, and her cheeks crimson - indeed, most healers would probably have diagnosed her with a fever if they saw her. Her legs were pulled tightly together under her, and her arms were wrapped around her chest - but she was still looking. She hadn't closed her eyes and covered her ears. She'd _watched,_and if Anitra was any judge, she'd enjoyed the show on some level.

"What's wrong?" She asked the girl, finally looking directly at her. "I_told_ you what we DragonRiders don't feel shame. These trips get pretty long, and entertainment-options are limited..." she shrugged, grabbing a soft cloth that she could use to towel off some of her own, hard-earned sweat. Tiriana grimaced, and her voice cracked somewhat when she answered. "So you just... use_your personal servant, like some sort of... toy? And on the back of the dragon you say is basically your _husband?" She sounded scandalized... and also aroused... and also like she was trying very hard not to acknowledge the 'aroused' bit.

Anitra chuckled and scratched her head. "Well... yes? And also no. In case you didn't notice, she enjoyed it quite a lot. Honestly, it's more like I'm 'just using' my favorite fuckbuddy as a personal servant. She fell rather hard for me when we first met, ya know - enough to chase after me afterwards. We started our... 'relationship', with the full understanding that she'd be purely secondary to Blake, and she accepted this. Indeed, none of us are 'exclusive' in any way. Blake has several other lovers as well, including a 'personal servant' employed under similar circumstances - she's waiting back home at the Utopia, looking after our kid." Shrugging, she waved the subject off. "Dragons don't feel jealousy, y'know? That's a human emotion. And elven too, I suppose. Even we DragonRiders can feel a sting of it from time to time - the legacy of our human blood - but only a slight sting. And just like with the 'shame' bit, I think life's a lot more fun _without_jealousy."

Tiriana didn't answer immediately, and silence fell over the palanquin for a bit - broken only by Direza's slow and steady breathing. Blake telepathically informed her that he'd be landing in another half hour or so, once he spotted a suitably isolated spot. It was completely dark outside - likely close to midnight - and odds were that fatigue was playing a role in Tiriana's behavior too. Glancing over at her, Anitra tried starting up a conversation again. "Look... you should really try to keep an open mind. Approach it all with a_positive_ mindset. Sex if fun! Sex with a dragon, sex with another woman, sex where you've got a penis, sex where you're on top, sex where you're on the bottom... it's all good. We're both going to live for many centuries, you know - millennia, even. Those are going to be some pretty dreary years if you don't learn to let loose and have some fun with it!"

The half-elf seemed to shudder slightly, hugging herself more tightly. "I just... can't really believe it. That I could ever be like you..." she finally admitted. "At school, even when the boys started... sneaking off with the girls to make out and stuff, nobody ever looked at me with anything but scorn. Maybe that black dragon you're talking about... Slate, right? Maybe he'd want me, because of some kind of magical bond or whatever, and I'm still not convinced that I could survive that! And there's no way I'd have anyone, let alone a Drow cleric, falling all over themselves to be my lover!" Her voice gradually got more intense as she carried on, and Anitra found herself rocking slightly back on her heels - mentally speaking. Her upbringing had really left the poor girl with some seriously shoddy self-worth, hadn't it? Maybe she should adjust her approach accordingly... but not now.

"Well, I tend to disagree on both counts... and as for that first bit, I'll be able to prove my point to you shortly. We'll be landing soon." she replied out loud, shrugging. Blake had spotted a suitably secluded plateau halfway up a mountain, where they'd be able to stop for a bit - and even light a campfire - without attracting any undue attention, and was already circling down towards it. The palanquin shook when he touched down, stirring Direza from her nap. She wound up pulling the cloak back on, over her sweaty skin, before climbing out the door to start her usual short-camp preparations - the night air was cold and sharp in the mountains.

Anitra ignored the temperature with practiced ease, of course - jumping from the sweat-choked heat of the palanquin and out into the chill air, buck naked, without turning a hair. "Just another perk of being a DragonRider..." she said over her shoulder as Tiriana hesitantly followed, eyes wide with disbelief as she bundled her thin clothes - better suited for a springtime forest than these mountains - tighter around her. "I don't usually travel in a palanquin, y'know - we mostly just brought that thing for your benefit. Normally, I'm sitting half-naked in the saddle as the icy wind of the higher altitudes caress my skin."

Direza had quickly lit a campfire - using magic rather than firewood - before disappearing into a convenient nook in the piles of boulders that surrounded the small plateau. Drinking her own piss and Anitra's too was all good and fine for a dirty, sexy time - but in the end, there were things in it that her body needed to get rid of... as well as other, heavier waste-materials to dispose of. Nodding after the disappeared drow, Anitra grinned at Tiriana. "You'll probably want to go deal with the call of nature yourself, 'specially since you declined the services offered - don't want your bladder to wind up bursting, do we?" The half-elf, grimacing, complied - dashing in the opposite direction. The rubble-strewn plateau at least offered plenty of opportunities for privacy. With a shrug, Anitra herself followed suit - she needed to 'lighten her load' a bit too, if she wanted to give Tiriana a proper show of dragon-fucking later.

She was the first to return - not surprisingly. Tiriana probably wasn't terribly used to doing her business in the wilds, and as for Direza, well... Anitra had noticed in the past that a diet high in piss tended to leave the drow with certain stomach-problems that had a way of making her visits to the toilet quite a bit longer, noisier, and smellier than usual. An extra bit of humiliation with a delayed burn... hah. One of these days, when the poor girl had fully recovered from the week she'd spent in that barrel of cum, Anitra had another nasty little surprise waiting for her, courtesy of one of the filthier manuals she'd found while browsing the Library of the Perverse. How her sensitive stomach would handle that remained to be seen...

While waiting for the others to return, she helped Blake out of the palanquin-harness. Normally, they wouldn't have dismounted it for a brief rest-break, but having it on his back while they went at it seemed a poor idea - even if the construction could stand up to it, which it might, the contents would be thrown around like salt in a shaker. By the time they returned, she was already underneath him - caressing his cock as it emerged from its sheath, peppering the sensitive tip with kisses. The flickering firelight added a certain romantic atmosphere, and despite this being a pre-planned move, both of them were feeling their arousal rise.

Direza barely spared them a glance as she hurried about her duties - getting started on cooking a quick and simple, but warm and filling meal over the magic-fueled bonfire. Tiriana, meanwhile, hesitantly approached them... only to freeze as she got close enough to get a clear view of just what was now swinging between Blake's legs. Gazing lazily over at her, Anitra abandoned her tender stimulation of the smooth, red tool, leaning back a touch to grin at her unknowing half-sister. "So, what do you think? Bigger than you were expecting? Smaller than you feared?" Tiriana did not answer - her eyes simply darted from the huge tool, to Anitra's body, and back again, as if doing mental measurements and comparisons.

With a chuckle, Anitra shook her head. "Well... just sit down, and watch. And remember that you and me share the same blood - everything I can do, you will be able to do as well..." With this, she rolled over on her belly and lifted her rear to slide her buttocks seductively along the length of Blake's cock as she moved into position - on her knees, ass in the air, head resting on her crossed arms. Groaning with desire, Blake shifted his body back and lowered his tool - carefully pointing the tapered tip at her pussy, which indeed seemed far too tiny to handle an intrusion of even _half_his size.

One quick, smooth thrust proved that assumption wrong, and they moaned in unison as they were once again joined together. Since that first time, in the cave near Karistad, they had mated like this countless times. During the years when they traveled by themselves, in search of the fragments of Lutan's Tablet, as well as during the decadent days of peace and ease they'd enjoyed at the Dragon Utopia, through dozens of other sexual partners for both of them... this, truly, never got old. There were other positions too, of course, that they often enjoyed - but more often than not, it came back to basically the same setup as that very night when Blake had taken Anitra's virginity and turned her into a DragonRider...

With breathless passion, they moved against each other, disregarding their dumbstruck audience. Anitra's hips flexed back and forth to meet Blake's thrusts, and every last one of them was balls-deep, powerful and passionate, with the muscular, multi-ton weight of a fully-grown dragon behind them. Every time he moved forwards, he forced open her cervix, invaded her womb, and stretched it upwards into her body - shouldering aside stomach, liver, lungs, intestines, and everything else that dared get in his way. When his scaly hips flattened her buttocks, her heart beat right next to his cockhead, and a vague bulge could be seen running across her belly - straight from her groin to her sternum.

It was a literally indescribable feeling - one that no ordinary woman could have felt, leaving her with no way to recount it to anyone whose body hadn't been carefully designed by a long-forgotten god specifically for the task of handling dragon-cock. There was a profound sense of penetration, but no sense of invasion. It felt as if her internal organs moved willingly to accommodate the intrusion. There was a sense of purpose there, too - one that had existed long before she'd found out why it felt so right. If compelled to resort to metaphor, she would probably have likened it to the feeling that a sentient glove might have, when it was slipped onto the hand it had been tailor-made to fit. There was a lot to being a DragonRider, and a lot to being Anitra... but this, being on her knees with a huge dragon-cock filling her body, stretching her womb into impossible shapes, this was where her truest and oldest purpose lay.

Of course, this particular position also had the advantage of making it fairly easy to switch holes. Barely conscious of how smoothly they coordinated it - by feel as much as telepathy - they swayed apart. Blake pulled back further than usual, while she leaned further forwards, and his cock slipped out of her pussy altogether - glistening wetly from her copiously-flowing juices. He adjusted his aim just a tiny bit upwards, while she straightened her arms, pushing her torso up off the ground, putting her spine at a more horizontal tilt. Then he thrust forwards again, spearing her sphincter this time.

Anitra gasped, and heard the sound echoed by their reluctant voyeur. A pained shudder went through her as Blake once again sank all the way inside her, disappearing his full, intimidating length inside her ass this time. No matter how many times they did this, it never stopped hurting. Quite a lot, even. That initial stretching - brutally fast and sudden, expanding her sphincter and the intestine behind it to a circumference similar to her biceps - sent a wave of pain washing through her body, one that continued to assail the beaches of her mind with slowly declining intensity as her ass once again grew accustomed to Blake's cock. No doubt, the pain could be prevented simply by doing some preparation - stretching her ass steadily and gradually, taking it up notch by notch until it was ready to handle Blake's girth. But why would she want that? She treasured this pain.Savored it. She didn't indulge her masochism on a daily basis the way Melora did, but that just made this particular pain all the more special. All the sweeter.

At this moment, neither of them were concerned for anything save each other and the pleasure they shared - but they'd set things up with some forethought. Tiriana had a fine back-view, watching the action between Blake's hind-legs while he carefully kept his tail lifted and out of the way - swaying and snapping in the air as he pounded Anitra's ass just as fiercely as he had her pussy. This let her see firsthand how Anitra's pussy gaped after Blake was done with it - and how rapidly it pulled itself back into shape, even as her buttocks somehow managed to squeeze aside to make room for the huge rod between them.

"How is that even possible..." Tiriana mumbled somewhere behind them, sounding awestruck, and her voice just barely managed to reach Anitra and percolate into her pleasure-soaked mind. It made her think of when Blake had first taken her unprepared virgin asshole for his own - and in the process reshaped her body for his own uses. It was something she treasured, especially at moments such as this. Every time he fucked her pussy, he stretched open her cervix and deformed her womb all over again. Every time he went balls-deep, her organs were shoved aside, only to fall back into place immediately afterwards. But when he'd forced the full length of his cock inside her that night, he had rearranged her intestines permanently, straightening a previously-curved section of her colon and pushing it into a new position along the line of her spine. The maximum penetrable depth of her ass - flexible intrusions such as tentacles aside - was exactly and precisely equal to the full length of his cock, from sheath to tip. If feeling him in her pussy was like a glove being pulled onto a hand, this was like a sword sliding home in its sheath with a satisfying click - while her other internals simply squeezed a bit downwards, towards her belly and ribs, to make room.

Gone were the days during her pregnancy, when Blake had instinctively treated her with uncustomary gentleness. Not only could she once again enjoy the pleasure of having her womb stretched open and filled with cum on a nearly daily basis, she could also treasure the sheer intensity of his full and unrestrained power. He fucked her as if he was trying to break her in half, slamming every thrust home with enough force to send a familiar shockwave through her body and internal organs. He pounded her like he was trying to drive her into the ground and reduce her to a fine mush in the process... because he knew she could take it, as indeed she could. Waves of pain and pleasure rolled through her, soaking her mind, deafening her to the disbelieving gasps of her audience. She'd cum twice while he went at her pussy, but by now, she'd thoroughly lost count. Her fingers were digging into the rocky ground as she held herself up against the bone-shaking assault with more-than-human strength and determination, lost to all but the sensation.

Then Blake roared and came - and the world snapped back into focus as her bowels flooded with his thick cum, practically sparkling with raw energy. The Quickening seized her, that sweetest of highs - the best kind, provided by the dragon who was her eternally bonded mate. It didn't come with any of the fancy, specialized powers she'd occasionally borrowed from other sexual partners - tremorsense, demonic power, hyperflexible joints, hardened skin, whatever - but instead, everything else was so much sharper, so much clearer, so much stronger. Her blood pumped, her pussy oozed with desire, her whole body felt extra-sensitive and ready to respond to her whims - practically pulling on the leash, eager to leap into action and indulge in highly acrobatic sex, gratuitous violence, or anything inbetween. It was in such a state that she had beaten her own mother to a pulp, and subsequently assisted in her rape and torture. In a more sober mind, she sometimes wondered how she could have done something like that - but every time she found herself back on that ecstatic peak, she understood. Maybe she wouldn't do it_again,_ given the opportunity, but only because familiarity and hard-earned experience had helped her maintain at least _some_semblance of logical thought even in this state - and she would still be tempted, oh yes...

As Blake's thrusts stilled, she pulled herself off his impaling cock in a single forwards lunge, before, acrobatically rolling around and bouncing back - all in a single, smooth movement. Hungrily, she attacked the dangling tool with her mouth, licking it, kissing it, cleaning it - worshiping it, for it was the source of this power, this beautiful ecstasy! Not that there was much to clean - the orifice he'd utilized had been carefully voided right before, and the smooth, uniform design of his tool, without even the ridge of a distinct head, didn't pick up a lot in passing. All the cum he had just sprayed, meanwhile, had been hungrily absorbed by her body before it could stain its source... but none of that mattered. This was a treasured ritual, one she'd never failed to carry out with_enthusiasm_, not just dutifulness, even when she was at her worst.

Of course, that didn't mean that she couldn't add a bit of _flair_to it, especially considering her enraptured audience. Like, say, by twisting her body around with snakelike agility once she was done lavishing a suitable amount of attention on the tip, so that she was on her knees with her back to it - and then bending sinuously backwards and engulfing the thick shaft upside-down. Blake readily cooperated, pushing forwards once more - forcing her jaw to unhinge and her lips to stretch to capacity as he pushed his full girth down her gullet. Her neck and throat, too, stretched elastically as the huge cock intruded on it, creating a highly visible bulge that only ended when it disappeared underneath her ribcage. When fully embedded, her lips touched his sheath, and his cockhead lay inside her stomach itself - making it fortunate indeed that it was tough enough to feel the touch of her stomach-acid as little more than a pleasant tingle. Thanks to Blake's body-hugging testes - little more than a scaly bulge right behind his sheath - this also gave her a fine upside-down view of Tiriana, whose own jaw seemed just shy of unhinging too as she stared at the impossible display before her with eyes as wide as teacups.

Anitra would have been delighted to let Blake fuck her face and throat like this - as, indeed, he had done on a number of occasions - but this rest-stop was already going to turn into a fairly lengthy affair, and they had places to be. Still, if she couldn't get a stomachful of cum out of the bargain, she could at least get something vaguely similar... and there was no reason that Direza should have all the dirty, sordid fun. Tiriana likely never realized that, as she watched Anitra steadily breathe through her nose despite the massive shaft filling her throat, Blake was dealing with his own rest-stop business - emptying his capacious bladder directly into Anitra's belly, providing her with that lovely feeling of warm fullness and slightly-stretched stomach skin.

Finally, all that was left was for him to slowly pull out again, while she fastidiously ran her lips and tongue over every inch of his shaft as it passed through her mouth, leaving it sparkly-clean by the time it left her body altogether. With a barely-audible crack, her jaw snapped back into place, and she nimbly extricated herself from underneath Blake's black bulk in order to do a rising flourish and suitably over-the-top bardic-style bow. "I hope you found the performance convincing, dear sister..." she purred, as her eyes focused on Tiriana with a renewed kind of focus - sharp enough, now, to both see and smell the tiny, wet spot that had spread between the half-elf's shaking legs as she knelt on the ground and observed the sordid display.

It was amazing how the Quickening made her want more of everything and everything more, she pondered as she restrained herself from licking her lips suggestively at the gaping girl. Right now, she wanted oh-so-much to just grab her foolish half-sister, throw her down on the ground, and show her just how much fun sex could be - fucking her, pounding her, twisting her into new and intriguing positions, making her cum over and over until she was reduced to a trembling wreck who could only beg for more. She also really wanted for Blake to throw her down on the ground and pound her again, harder and more violently than before, taking her, _hurting_her, maybe showing her some of that deliciously sadistic attention he always poured on Melora.

But she restrained herself. She'd felt the high of the Quickening often enough to know how to harness her desires, lest she become a slave to them. Still, she couldn't do anything about the fact that her whole body seemed to be emanating an aura of raw sex, making Tiriana blush and avert her eyes as she staggered to her feet, despite Anitra being no more or less naked than she had been for the past several hours. "I... wouldn't have believed it if I didn't see it with my own eyes..." she finally answered, her voice shaky. "But... I'll be able to do all of that myself? Truly?"

She sounded haunted, but also hopeful - clearly, the fact that Anitra had so thoroughly enjoyed a session that would, indeed, have torn a mere mortal woman to shreds hadn't been lost on her. Anitra nodded eagerly, her smile somewhere between naughty and encouraging. "Truly you will, and truly you will enjoy it. And a good thing too! Being quasi-immortal would get pretty dull if you _couldn't_spend most of that eternity having loads of really mind-blowing sex, I'd say." With that salute, she resolutely reined in the - rather loud - voice in her head that was telling her _this_was the time to step forwards, grab this shaky little half-elf, press a discombobulating kiss on her lips, and then take it from there... and simply turned on her heel to head towards the bonfire and the waiting pot of stew. Not that she could entirely stop herself from swaying her hips outrageously as she walked away...

After all three of them had enjoyed a bowl of hearty stew - even a DragonRider could not live on cum alone, after all - they quickly broke camp, with Anitra and Direza working together to swiftly strap the palanquin onto Blake's back again. It might have been slightly_swifter still if Anitra had been able to entirely resist the urge to molest Direza whenever the drow came within her reach, cupping her ass-cheeks, grabbing her by the pussy, even pulling her into a quick ass-to-groin embrace when the opportunity offered itself. Not that Direza did much to deter her - while she was _always eagerly submissive, she somehow became even more deliciously pliable when Anitra was riding a Quickening, leaning into her every touch with a breathless moan and a hungry look in her eyes. The overwhelming confidence and sheer, sexual radiance of her Quickened mistress was simply irresistible, bringing her desires to the fore despite her obvious fatigue and all the mind-blowing orgasms she'd only just barely started recovering from.

Tiriana seemed to find it hard to tear her eyes away from the two of them as they all climbed back inside the cramped palanquin, and there was a look of yearning about her as, shortly after takeoff, Anitra simply tore off Direza's cloak and proceeded to roughly finger her to two or three orgasms before the overwhelmed dark-elf lapsed back into unconsciousness, her legs still splayed invitingly open and her inner thighs gleaming black with leaked juices. Despite the hasty cleaning the palanquin had received during the rest-stop, as Direza had mopped up the sweat, love-juices and stray piss-droplets that had stained the floor during the previous entertainment, the smell of sex was already thick in the air once again.

Direza, however, seemed to be the only one inclined to sleep at this point, despite the lateness of the hour. Anitra was filled with visceral energy thanks to the Quickening, while Tiriana seemed charged with all the nervous energy one would expect from a teenager - albeit a thirtysomething years old teenager - away from home for the first time, on a grand adventure... and also rapidly learning all kinds of unimaginable things about sexuality. She shivered slightly and seemed to shrink in on herself as Anitra's eyes panned up from the now slumbering Direza to her. "You know, you always look like you're hiding, over there in the corner..." Anitra commented, a relaxed drawl in her voice.

"What are you afraid of?" She asked, when Tiriana did not immediately reply. "That I'll rape you, or something?" This made the young half-elf wince, and she seemed to make an effort to loosen her scrunched-up body-language somewhat, relaxing the arms that she'd been hugging herself with and straightening her legs a bit. "N... no, of course not..." she replied a bit shakily, avoiding Anitra's eyes. She chuckled, and threw open her arms. "That's good, 'cuz I wouldn't do that. Would be a bit of a poor way to start our relationship, I'd say! Now, consensual sex, _that's_another matter..."

This sent a jerk through Tiriana's body, and her gaze jumped up automatically - to be transfixed by Anitra's wide, inhuman eyes and her hungry, lascivious smile. "Why so surprised?" she taunted lightheartedly. "You may not realize this, on account of the unkind company you've kept so far, but you're really hot. I'd love to do all kinds of things to and with you. Things that'd make you scream with pleasure... but only if you want to." Tiriana's mouth opened and closed a few times as she searched for something to say, and while she had been blushing virtually non-stop since Anitra first started playing with Direza in front of her, it still seemed like her cheeks had just darkened another notch or two.

"You really think I'm... hot?" She finally asked, as her mind shied away from the later sentences and instead fixated on something she could manage to address. Grinning, Anitra nodded emphatically. "Hot AND cute, with a sideline of pretty - and you're making a good start on 'beautiful' too, if I'm any judge." Tiriana's face seemed to shiver, as if she didn't know what to do with it - compliments clearly wasn't something she was familiar. She tried to look away - but just found herself looking at Direza's fully-exposed and pleasure-dazed form, before quickly tearing her eyes away from that sight, too, and instead stared resolutely out of the window - which, considering the darkness beyond it and the glow-crystals inset into the palanquin's roof, might as well have been a mirror.

"But I've never... I'm still..." she tried, while her eyes flickered - searching her reflection for this hot-cute-pretty girl that Anitra was apparently seeing. Her voice trailed off, denials unsaid, and Anitra subtly scooched closer. "Still worrying about all the boys who said mean things to you back in school?" she said softly, moving into position so that she could meet Tiriana's eyes in the reflective window. "Don't. Boys can be stupid - in fact, it seems to be their default position. Sometimes, they'll pick on a girl just because they can't admit that they're attracted to her. And as for the other girls, well, jealousy's a bitch..."

"But I don't know anything about... sex, and you're so...experienced!" Tiriana burst out, finally managing to complete a sentence, if not without some hesitation. Anitra's smile just widened as the conversation - if one could call it that - finally took the turn she'd been waiting for. "Well, you're not going to learn by hiding in a corner, are you?" She asked sweetly. "I hear you're a good student - so you should know that the best way to rectify ignorance is to find a good, knowledgeable teacher who can pass on her experience to you..."

Slowly, knowing that Tiriana could see her in the mirror-like window and stop her or move away if she wanted to, she reached out and placed her hands on the girl's shoulders from behind, gently caressing the sides of her neck with her thumbs. "Let me teach you..." she whispered, leaning in closer as she felt her half-sister's shoulders tense under her hands. "We'll take it slow, step by step. I won't do anything you don't want me to, and you can always say no or stop if things get too... intense." She felt as if she was trying to hand-feed a skittish forest critter, which probably wasn't too far from the truth, considering where Tiriana had been hiding for so long.

Hopefully, she'd brought the right bait, and made her approach with sufficient care - 'cuz she was rather running out of arguments at this point. All she could do was watch the girl's eyes in the mirror, trying to spot the internal conflict raging within her. She was miles outside her normal zone of comfort - deep in unexplored territory, where nothing she had been taught at school or at home could help her figure out the 'right' path. Anitra, for her part, felt increasingly confident that if she could just get past this initial hurdle, everything would rapidly escalate to a satisfactory point. This girl shared half her blood, and she'd had precious few positive experiences throughout her life. Once she got a taste for the ecstasy of the orgasm and the pleasures of sex, she wouldn't be able to go back.

"Well..." Tiriana finally answered, and Anitra held her breath. "...I guess I've pretty much already signed up for having sex with a dragon I've not even met yet, huh? So there isn't much point in trying to stay virtuous or... virginal, I suppose." Her voice sounded shaky, but at the same time less hesitant than before, and Anitra relaxed, smiling broadly. "That's the spirit, sister!" she declared, grinning. Sidling up closer, she let her bare breasts press against Tiriana's back while her hands left her shoulders and roamed lower, casually tracing the curves under her rough and dusty clothes. The girl shuddered slightly in her grip, but didn't pull away.

"So, how about a quick... 'lesson' before bedtime, to help you relax a bit, hmm?" Anitra whispered, feeling a shiver run through her subject of seduction at her words. Tiriana nodded, a bit jerkily, and replied in a hushed voice. "What... kind of lesson did you have in mind?" Chuckling, Anitra pulled her closer into her embrace, flattening her breasts against the girl's skinny back. "Well, I was thinking of starting at the very basics... a kiss." Tiriana stiffened against her at this, then seemed to will herself into relaxing. "I've... never done that before..." she admitted, hesitantly. "I doubt I'll be any good at it."

"Well, I'm an absolute expert at kissing, if I do say so myself..." Anitra said sweetly a she leaned back again and loosened her hold, while simultaneously using her hands to gently guide her innocent half-sister around, turning her away from the reflective window to face her directly. "So just let me take the lead, and try to learn from my technique, hmm?" Tiriana's cheeks were scarlet, the color standing out beautifully against her pale elven skin - and somehow, it felt different than all the blushing she'd done up to this point. It wasn't just embarrassment, though there probably was_some of that in there too - it was also a blush of _arousal. She was preparing to have her first kiss - and with a woman, at that - after more than thirty years of ever-so-slowly growing up, watching her peers start to 'experiment', and getting solidly shut out.

Leaning forwards a bit, Anitra grabbed Tiriana's shoulders again - this time from the front - and threw her a challenging smile. "So - what's it gonna be, then?" She asked, already knowing the answer but feeling that it was important to drive it home anyway. "I've heard you say some promising things, but nothing that sounded like a 'yes'. So which is it? Shall we begin the first lesson? Or not?" Tiriana stiffened a bit at this, perhaps sensing - as Anitra did - that what she stood before was less of a threshold and more of a precipice. Still, after a moment's hesitation, she nodded. "Yes... please." She finally said, her voice a whisper.

The final inches disappeared as Anitra's hand snaked around the side of Tiriana's slender throat, gently touching her neck before digging upwards with spread fingers, burying itself in those silky-black locks - so like her own - and holding her head in place. Her sister's lips were half-parted, breathless, as she pushed her own against them and went to work - letting her tongue caress and whet them before plunging into the middle, invading the hot mouth behind them, seeking its counterpart and pressing against it... inviting it to dance.

After a few hesitant seconds, Tiriana's tongue began to respond to the invitation, rising to meet Anitra's even as her stiffened body began to soften. This was the magic of a good kiss - and Anitra had studied the fine art of kissing extensively, mostly with the same drow who was now slumbering peacefully a few feet away. Feeling her desires rising and her pussy whetten, Anitra leaned into the kiss a bit more, heaping on the passion, challenging Tiriana to meet her. Normally, a simple kiss wouldn't get her temperature up that much, but... those weren't exactly normal times.

She was her sister. Or half-sister, anyway. The two of them shared a father, though Tiriana clearly still believed that Anitra's repeated use of the word 'sister' was meant to be metaphoric, a reference to them both being DragonRiders. Her older sister by years, younger sister by physique and experience, was pushing warmly against her skin now, close enough for Anitra to feel her rapid heartbeat through the simple earth-tone tunic she wore. This was no mere illusion, no magical shapeshifter. It was a forbidden, incestuous kiss - and still just a prelude.

Eventually, with both of them breathing heavily, their lips parted. Tiriana's eyes were vague and unfocused as she licked her no-doubt tingling lips, broadsided by the intensity of the experience. Anitra smiled invitingly at her. "See? Not so hard, is it? I can tell you're getting the hang of it already..." she said throatily, as Tiriana slowly nodded in agreement. "Mind, that was just step one. And while the more advanced lessons will have to wait 'till tomorrow, I think we've got time for just one more step tonight." Brushing her fingers lightly over Tiriana's soft lips, she leaned back a bit further and gave her a challenging look. "Strip." she said.

Pupils hugely dilated, Tiriana nodded shakily. "...okay." she said, and with hands that were no less shaky, she began to pull off the dusty, green-stained clothes she'd been wearing since sneaking into the woods a bit past noon on... well, probably the previous_day, by now, considering the late hour. Anitra watched eagerly, eyes roaming - which made Tiriana hesitate for a moment after undoing her shirt. Clicking her tongue, Anitra waggled a correcting finger. "Come, now! Being and _getting naked, in front of somebody else, is a rather basic skill that you need to master in order to even begin your journey towards mastery of the sexual arts. Not that having sex with most of your clothes on can't be fun at times..." Anitra giggled at the last bit, while Tiriana, still blushing as hotly as ever, ducked her head and continued.

The shirt fell, revealing a shapely set of milky-white breasts that, while smaller than Anitra's current set, were notably larger than what she'd possessed prior to her awakening. The deliciously perky, purple-red nipples stood out rock-hard from their center, showing their owner's arousal as surely as a hard-on would for a man. The trousers followed - a touch awkwardly, considering the cramped conditions, and finally, a pair of elegant, white cotton panties... with a large, wet spot on their front. They stuck to Tiriana's pussy-mound as she pulled them down her thighs with resolute speed, clearly trying not to let her nervousness show.

Finally, she sat naked before Anitra, clutching her arms behind her back, clearly working hard to prevent them from automatically darting to cover her various naughty bits. Licking her lips theatrically, Anitra nodded. "My, my... you're just as sizzling-hot as I'd imagined! A dish and a half..." Tiriana shrank back from the compliment - clearly still unaccustomed to them - and her already-closed legs trembled against one another with tension. Biting her lip, she looked at Anitra in a way that made her suspect that even looking her in the face was a struggle. "Umm... so... what's next, then?" she asked, even more breathless now.

With a predatory smile, Anitra moved towards her on her hands and knees as she talked. "Well, I figured... now that you've had your first kiss, how about your first orgasm, hmm?" Tiriana's nostrils flared, her chest heaving with some combination of fear and arousal. She nodded choppily, but apparently couldn't find the words to answer with. Anitra chuckled, drawing closer. "Now then... I can teach you the finer points of cunnilingus later. For tonight, all you need to do is lean back, get comfortable among the cushions, and spread your legs for my tongue. I'm quite good with it, as you may have seen before. I'll make you cum - over and over if I have to, until all that tension has been leeched right out of you, so that you can finally get some beauty-sleep."

Slowly, haltingly, Tiriana complied - finally exposing her virgin pussy, gleaming with juices that had accumulated there as she'd watched Anitra cavort with first Direza, then Blake earlier. A small tuft of thin, black hair crowned it, demonstrating once again that despite her years, her partially elven body was still working its way through adolescence. Her thighs were practically vibrating with the urge to snap shut again, and since she could no longer keep her hands clasped behind her back, they were now gripping one another with white-knuckle intensity atop her flat belly. The perfect image of an inexperienced virgin in a sexual situation - save, of course, for her obvious arousal.

Thus, the final step - in Anitra's plan, that was - had been cleared - and she no longer had any reason to hold back or act patient. She practically lunged into the offered feast, clamping her hands down on Tiriana's upper thighs to ensure that they didn't suddenly change their mind, and finally wrapped her lips thirstily around her sister's drooling-wet pussy, tasting her sweet juices. She drilled her tongue in between the fleshy labia, burrowing her nose in the patch of pungent hair above, opening her mouth wide for deeper penetration. Above her, Tiriana gasped and shuddered.

Finally, she felt it - with the tip of her tongue, she could trace the surface of the young half-elf's maidenhood. A porous membrane, filled with tiny holes through which the blood of her period could percolate... a delicate construction, so fragile, so ready to be torn and broken. She let her tongue explore it fully, while Tiriana shivered under her hands - then, she set to work. She hadn't been kidding about her oral skills, after all. Taught to her by lesbian fairies and the neglected concubines of Sultan Ali Ababwa's harem, sharpened and developed by regular play with Direza - she knew just how to find all the sensitive spots, and how to tease and stimulate them just so. Her tongue was strong and tireless, especially when, as now, she was fueled by an ongoing Quickening. Her virginal sister didn't stand a chance.

Muffled screams echoed in the palanquin as Tiriana literally bit into a pillow to silence her own voice, whether out of embarrassment or concern for the slumbering Direza. Orgasm after orgasm wracked her young body, the blinding ecstasy of the climax completely alien to her. Her social isolation had preserved her from the adolescent fumbling that was most girls' first introduction to the basics of sexuality - encountering Anitra's master-class oral skills were as if a man who had lived off of nothing but raw vegetables and bird's eggs for thirty years, was suddenly seated before an emperor's feast.

Soon, the once-reluctant legs were crossed eagerly behind Anitra's back, holding her in place, pulling her in, begging for more. Hands unclenched and buried themselves in Anitra's black locks, drawing her even more emphatically into the tingling, hypersensitive pussy. Abandoning her grip on the girl's thighs, she let one of her hands wander down between her own legs - violently fisting herself by way of masturbation. Her other hand, however, sought a different prize - Tiriana's twitching sphincter, just below the current focus of attention. One long, thin middle finger, slick with excess juices from the orifice above, made its way inside - and gently began to apply a whole new level of stimulation to the already-overwhelmed girl.

In the end, Tiriana's legs and fingers went limp, her tensed-up body collapsing into the cushions - unconscious. Anitra had teased Direza into that state often enough - like, say, _twice_within the last handful of hours - to know just how to pull that off. How to use the growing oversensitivity of genitals that had already been stimulated to orgasm multiple times to her advantage, altering her approach and the intensity of her techniques to compensate. It was a specialized art, but one she'd fully mastered by now.

Pushing herself up from her meal, she looked fondly down at Tiriana's sweaty, splayed-open and fully-exposed body while casually sucking on her middle finger. Two hot young things - well, youthful, anyway - both pleasured into catatonia in a single night? All in a day's work for the mighty DragonRider. She'd cum herself, once or twice, as she worked her fist in and out of her pussy, which remained a bit loose after Blake's earlier visit, and had thus managed to burn through some of her abundant supply of Quickening-provided energy. She was tempted to continue - with her other hand now free to assist - and certainly the display spread out before her was one richly worth masturbating to. But as she sometimes had to remind herself, the Quickening - like any stimulant - was no substitute for sleep, however much it _felt_like it was. Hence, she instead dried off her fist, draped herself halfway across the slumbering Tiriana with the palm of one hand resting possessively on her pussy-mound, and willed her breathing and heartbeat to slow.

The experiences of that night cleansed Tiriana of whatever reluctance or reservations she might have had, just as Anitra had foreseen. Having experienced the pleasures of sex once, she was only too eager to try more - especially anything that might glean another orgasm or two, or ten. Anitra was soon able to introduce her to the Ring of Priap firsthand, too - albeit with one caveat. "I'd... like to keep my maidenhood..." Tiriana declared with a slight blush when the lesson-plan turned to 'penetrative intercourse 101'. "So that the dragon - the one who is to be my lifelong partner - can be the one to take it. Like it was with you. I know it's silly, and that it'll make the whole thing more painful than it needs to be, but... well... it's romantic! And I've spent a lot of time reading romance-novels, I must confess."

Well, Anitra couldn't really quibble with that, nor disagree that there was_a certain romantic attraction in the idea of saving at least your_physical virginity for someone who was destined to be your soulmate. At least when you were dead certain of meeting him within, say, the next handful of days or so. Besides, it simply meant moving right along to the next lesson in the book - 'balls-deep ass-reaming for beginners'. Having watched Anitra shudder her way through several potent anal orgasms the previous night, Tiriana had no quibbles with that.

Nor did she have any further reservations about taking advantage of Direza's services. Indeed, that particular door was opened rather unavoidably just a few hours into the day, while she was sitting squarely on Anitra's lap, fully impaled by her sister's cock. The intensity of her first anal orgasm took her breath and her bladder-control away, but fortunately Anitra saw the signs and was able to order Direza into position just in time - letting the submissive drow intercept the half-elf's strong morning piss as it jetted from her urethra with orgasmic force.

With the threadbare excuse of 'lessons in the sexual arts', Anitra was thus able to spend the rest of the journey home doing just about anything she liked to, and with, her darling half-sister - indulging in all the incestuous, sexual explorations she'd ever dreamed of. Tiriana, meanwhile, got every bit as comprehensive an education as she could have wished for. Inbetween getting her ass thoroughly pounded every couple of hours, she learned the basics of cunnilingus - practicing on Anitra, or watching Direza have a go at her own pussy while Anitra provided helpful explanations and advice - blowjobs, titwanks and fingerbanging. In addition to growing accustomed to using a gray-skinned drow as a living toilet, she also had a chance to get used to the taste of her own ass - within the microcosm of the palanquin, ass-to-mouth was considered a basic necessity, and Anitra made it clear to her young pupil that she'd be expected to provide such services for her future dragon-partner as well... so best to get in some practice sooner rather than later, hey?

Tiriana clearly didn't care much for the flavor or the smell, but she gamely accepted Anitra's reassurance that it was an 'acquired taste' - as well as being prepared for the fact that her 'education' wouldn't all be just a non-stop cavalcade of mind-blowing orgasms. Indeed, after having been on the receiving end of a number of rimjobs - courtesy of both Anitra and Direza, at various times, usually as part of preparing her rear for yet another reaming - she eventually outright asked if she wasn't going to learn how to do that, too... a request Anitra was only too happy to answer.

It was, of course, a rather abbreviated course - but at the same time, save for a few much-loved and rather careworn books that Tiriana had brought along in her sack, there was essentially nothing else_to do in order to pass the time in the cramped palanquin... so it was also a very _focused education. Twice during the journey, they were able to enjoy the fresh air for longer periods of time, as Blake landed for a twelve-hour nap - giving Direza a chance to cook up a more substantial and complex meal than usual, while also letting Anitra demonstrate various sexual positions to her darling sister that the palanquin just didn't have room for - such as fucking her against the moss-grown trunk of a tree, or having her standing between herself and Direza as they double-teamed her pussy and ass, expertly teasing both with their tongues.

Indeed, what Anitra treasured more than anything wasn't any of the variants involving the Ring of Priap. Rather, it was simply pulling her half-sister into a close embrace, locking their lips together in a hot, passionate kiss, naked skin against naked skin, slippery with sweat, as hands roamed and fingers caressed... feeling the other girl trembling with desire, and knowing that she could bend her any which way she liked. Sleeping together - in the literal sense, napping halfway on top of each other, legs intertwined and thighs resting against one another's pussy - came a close second. She also tried scissoring for the first time, previously knowing of the act only in theory, and having ignored it as not being stimulating enough for her jaded desires...

They were all the kind of quasi-innocent sapphic pleasures that her own rapid, violent introduction to giant, orifice-filling cocks had prevented her from truly indulging in. Much of it, she'd done with Direza in the past, but largely only as a treat for the drow - not for her own enjoyment. Considering all she'd been through, such pleasures were simply too... soft to really get through to her. Until, that was, she had the chance to do it with her sister. Well, half-sister, but she fortunately found it easy to drop that 'half' from her mind. The powerful incest-taboo added a gleam to it all, an erotic intensity she'd found nowhere else.

How would Tiriana react when she finally figured out that they were related with blood? She didn't know, and for the time being, she didn't care. She simply enjoyed the taste of her sister's lips, her sister's pussy, her sister's ass. The sight of her sister's head bobbing between her legs, the sound of her sister's sweet moans as she fucked her ass for the tenth time that day, the feeling of her sister's lithe, naked body pressing against her own as she drifted off to sleep. She could spend hours just spooning with her, enjoying the smell of her hair while lightly caressing every part of her body, keeping her on a fine edge of arousal until she begged for release.

But alas, long though the journey was, it eventually had to end - and thus, a week later, Tiriana was hanging halfway out the window again, watching a blasted and lifeless wasteland extend below them with a skeptical eye. Anitra had told her about the Utopia's defenses, but it was still hard to believe... until they flew through the secret 'window' in the illusion, accessible only to black dragons - still the most convenient way to enter, if you happened to be able to use it - and her eyes and mouth alike flew open in awestruck amazement. Anitra could easily sympathize - she well remembered her_own_ first look at the vast and verdant jungle, the great and ancient crater rising in its midst, and the colossal castle that rose above it as if gravity was a thing it had maybe once heard about, without really bothering to pay attention.

Even now, it amazed her - and reminded her of that other mystery she had left by the wayside in her eagerness to seek the origins of the Black Dragons and DragonRiders. When she had been following in old Lutan's footsteps along with Blake, there had been clues here and there to suggest that he was more than the idealistic, human adventurer he appeared to be - such as his apparently ability to effortlessly get into and out of some of the most dangerous and highly-secure locations in the world. But the Utopia made those 'hints' rather obsolete - for it was he who had provided the dragons with the Wall, that grand illusion that protected it from any possible intrusion.

The level of magic on display there boggled the mind. The comparison that first came to mind was Mirage City... but that was only that, a city, made invisible in the desert sands, and the mirage-wall that protected it could be broken by the simple expediency of walking_through_ it. Yet that defense had been crafted by a Djinn, one of a race of ancient wind-spirits who were practically beings of living magic - said to possess phenomenal cosmic powers... and in making those defenses, he had exhausted himself into dormancy. The idea that a mere human adventurer could have created something that was so many orders of magnitude more impressive was downright ridiculous.

The Utopia's 'Wall' was the other kind of illusion - the better_kind, which fooled the mind rather than the eyes. You couldn't break it just by walking through it, couldn't ignore it by closing your eyes and focusing on other senses. Thus, the _other comparison that came to mind was the Demosphinx that she had met at the Temple of the Bloody Dawn, not so terribly long ago - an exceptionally powerful and magically skilled demon, who had managed to use the exact same kind of magic... to turn just herself invisible. To a roomful of people. For a few minutes. And she had subsequently suggested that this had been a rather exhausting ordeal.

Meanwhile, the Utopia's Wall had stood for millennia, covered not just the enormous castle but also the entirety of the jungle beyond, and was powerful enough to trick the minds of dragons. Including black_dragons, which would generally have been impossible - sure, there was a gap in the illusion just for them, but the simply fact that a doggy-door was _needed for this purpose was rather strange. Just who was this Lutan? How had he obtained such incredible power? And was he truly dead, as she had initially heard tell? It seemed strange that someone could do so much, accomplish_so much, and then just... drop dead from old age like any regular old_normal person. Perhaps it was time, on reflection, to step back from the remaining mysteries of the Old Imperial Era and look into that...

For now, however, a mission had been accomplished - and in time, too, judging by the fact that neither smoke nor screams were rising from the castle. The relieved expression on Argila's face as she met them at their landing-site, however, suggested that it was a good thing indeed that they had hurried so. Tiriana gaped anew as she climbed out of the palanquin and found herself faced with the vast silver dragon who, when all was said and done, handled most of the Utopia's day-to-day governance. While hardly as massive as the reds, silvers were among the larger species - so she was noticeably bigger than Blake, and looked suitably magnificent in the golden evening light, all gleaming scales and serpentine curves.

Tiriana, for her part, was once again clad in the simple clothes she'd been wearing when Anitra originally recruited her - still presentable mostly by virtue of barely having been worn for the past week, which had also conveniently cut down on the laundry - and looked excruciatingly aware of this as Argila lowered her vast head to take a closer look at her. "Welcome, Tiriana Bal'fiel Lorasatra..." she intoned once Anitra had introduced her. "...welcome to the Dragon Utopia, and thank you for coming! I hope that you will soon come to think of this place as your home - rest assured, your every need will be seen to."

Being so gushingly greeted by such a majestic being left Tiriana noticeably off-balance as Anitra shepherded her away from the plaza where they'd landed, while Blake conferred with Argila about the current situation - sending the more pertinent details onwards to Anitra via telepathy. Apparently, Slate was growing restless every bit as quickly as Blake had feared. A steady influx of adventurous young dragonettes - not all of them prompted by Blake's earlier string-pulling - had kept him pliable at first, but already he was starting to display a disturbingly possessive demeanor towards some of them. He also tended to behave belligerently towards any male_dragon who crossed his path - something that Argila had been taking some pains to prevent since this tendency started to show itself. As for his health, he'd recovered even swifter than projected - there was nothing left to suggest that his ribs had ever been so much as bruised, and he'd started taking experimental flights just a couple of days earlier. His wings were clearly still sore, unsuited for lengthy flights, but they _worked - and, even for a dragon, that was a quick recovery.

Blake's next destination was Slate's chambers - to let him know that his rider was on her way, and have a quick 'chat' with him beforehand. Meanwhile, Anitra led Tiriana to their own chambers - for a much-needed bath. "You'll want to look your best when you meet him, right? Fresh and newly-scrubbed!" Tiriana was entirely in agreement on this, despite the wave of panic-adjacent nervousness that was clearly lapping at her ankles now that all the grand-sounding promises were about to be realized - indeed, she'd found the air in the palanquin unpleasantly 'thick' for the past couple of days, used as she was to the excellent bathing-facilities available in an elven town, particularly in the house of a noble... however minor and currently disfavored.

Nonetheless, she was suitably impressed by the dragon-sized bubbly hot-tub in Anitra's room, and seemed quite happy when she heard that Slate's chambers, if they did not have one just like it already, would likely see one installed as soon as he or she expressed an interest in it. While Direza assisted Tiriana with scrubbing down, meanwhile, Anitra found Melora and Gisela Goodsong waiting in the nursery-nook, where she swiftly took over the round of nursing that Melora had been just about to pick up - after two weeks, even her mediocre milk-production had built up a nice bit of pressure. Enough to sate Jet's appetites, certainly, and perhaps even enough for his milk-sister Mel, too, if it came down to it...

Gisela had proven as competent at assisting with the child-care as hoped - Melora had only good things to say about her, which prompted some self-deprecating eye-rolls from the subject of flattery. "I didn't exactly emigrate here to work as a nanny, you know..." the halfling commented sarcastically. "...but it's not so bad now and again. They're both adorable, for starters! And I can't fault the... fringe-benefits." She waggled her eyebrows suggestively at Melora, who chuckled and grinned back - clearly, the placid mare didn't mind putting her sexual skills at Gisela's disposal in return for some help around the house. Which reminded Anitra of the Ring of Priap...

When she fished it out, however, she received a surprise - namely, Melora flashing an elaborately sculpted silver-ring that, to Anitra's eyes, glowed with the exact same magical potency. "Patience isn't one of my many, many virtues..." Gisela admitted with a broadening grin. "So when I heard you'd run off with that handy little toy, I went ahead and crafted a new one. Had the chap who made the first one enchant it with the same spell - except with a twist. This one's keyed to Melora's bloodline, and will only work for her - or her foal, eventually, I guess. Point is, I wanted to make sure that she'd always have it available, and even though this one was a gift for her, specifically, I doubt I could convince her to not 'lend' it to you on request otherwise!"

A fairly reasonable precaution, Anitra had to admit - and she certainly didn't mind Melora having a ring that was all her own. She could not, however, help but wonder if Gisela's decision to have the ring keyed to Melora's bloodline, rather than just her individual self, had come about due to the mare informing her friend about her plan to raise her daughter as her own eventual replacement. If so, she clearly didn't want to talk about it, and who could blame her? Halflings weren't generally thought of as being 'long-lived' - and compared to dragons and elves, they weren't. But their lifespans compared favorably to a human's, with old age usually catching up with them somewhere past the halfway-point of their second century... which meant that Gisela, too, could look forwards to outliving her new friend.

Once again, she shoved those melancholic thoughts aside - and as Melora lifted her daughter, Mel, from the crib, she held out her arms. "Give her here - I've got a lot of milk to get rid of, and _you've_got an errand to run! Tiriana needs something nice to wear when she goes to meet Slate, so go grab her measurements and then run down to the tailors' corner and see what they've got in her size. Some kind of suitably luxurious and elaborately-decorated robe would be ideal." Melora gave her a brief, surprised look - then complied. For the 'Lady of the House' to feed the wet-nurse's child, with such a casual justification, would have gotten any number of silken breeches in a bunch anywhere else - indeed, those breeches wouldn't have gotten noticeably less bunchy even if it had been a matter of life and death for the infant Mel.

But this wasn't a noble house, nor a royal castle. Here, the rules were what she chose to make of them. Melora was her loyal servant and, if necessary, a deadly-competent bodyguard, as well as being her husband's favorite, masochistic sex-slave and her own occasional toy... but she was also a friend, and that aspect was worth reinforcing on occasion. Besides, both her tits were straining with milk, since she'd been too preoccupied during the return-trip to have Direza suckle her - though, in retrospect, including a segment on nipple-sucking in Tiriana's sexual education would have been fun - and Mel was nothing if not efficient at rapid milk-removal. She gave Melora a wave as the mare threw a final glance over her shoulder on the way out, Gisela walking by her side, already chatting eagerly about which tailor they ought to check with first.

Leaning back in the nursing-chair, feeling the squirming weight of the two infants resting against her belly as they fed, she looked around and felt a strange warmness inside herself. Here she was, feeding the babies while nearby, her half-sister was being prepared for her own 'engagement'. Blake was off preparing the other half of that relationship-to-be, and if everything worked out, they'd soon have some genuine peers living nearby. She had a son, a loving husband, a home, friends, an extended family, good neighbors, and a 'job' that was both interesting and meaningful. Everything she'd dreamed of when she had been just an innocent girl, not yet a DragonRider - even if little of it had taken anything like the_shape_ she'd envisioned back then...

THE END

Warm-and-fuzzies for everyone! Now then... how about we take things up a notch for the next chapter: Vantage of Hindsight, hmm?