Clawed
I tried something different.
Sorchal enjoyed his leisurely stroll through the Gryphon Matriarch's palace, the stone floor underfoot slightly rough, just enough to give his claws a bit of purchase unlike smooth polished stone. Large windows lined the entire hall, wide enough to not feel cramped, like an accidental twitch of his wings or tail might break something priceless - a palace meant for winged quadrupeds.
The Matriarch had been nice enough to give him time to rest before their meeting. Normally he wouldn't have cared, but he had taken the time to thoroughly scrub himself after the journey, choosing a fragrant soap from the assortment offered, one that smelled of burnt sandalwood and something spicy sweet. His dark red scales glittered each time he stepped into the late afternoon sunlight.
Two guards escorted him, each wearing the Matriarch's crest embroidered in gold, a hawk perched on a tree split down the middle, set into rich green silk. The steel gauntlets on their foreleg talons clinked with each step, their rear feline paws silent.
It didn't take long to reach the Matriarch's chambers, two ornately carved dark-wood doors. One of the guards knocked and obediently waited for a muffled "Enter." One of the guards opened the doors while the other announced Sorchal.
"Your grace, may I present-"
"Yes yes, I know who he is. No need for the formalities." The stately Matriarch cut the guard off with a curt wave of her left talon. "You're dismissed."
The two guards bowed their heads and retreated, leaving Sorchal to enter the Matriarch's chambers. A large table sat at the center of the room, finely crafted of a dark, nearly black wood and polished to a beautiful gloss finish. Large silk cushions rest on the floor at intervals around its circumference, alternating dark green and brown. Picturesque landscapes hung in fine if simple frames on the walls. The Matriarch had always had somewhat austere tastes for a ruler, at least from a dragon's perspective.
Where many in his father's court would nearly immobilize themselves in gold and jewels, the Matriarch wore no adornments besides a simple gold band around her forward left talon. Ancient dragon script encircled the accessory. Curious, he'd love to get a closer look. Instead, he bowed, lowering his head nearly to the floor.
"A pleasure to see you again, Matriarch."
She rolled her eyes. "You make me sound so old when you address me like that."
"You don't look a day over two-hundred." He grinned. Niera walked away from him and towards her inner chambers. Sorchal followed without waiting for an invitation.
Her whip-like tail swayed gracefully behind her, feline hind-paws silent while her talons clicked at every other step. The way her hips swayed, every motion flowing down the length of her tail, hypnotized. "I hope your journey wasn't too taxing." Beautiful ashy gray fur covered her rear half, silken and glossy in the sunlight pouring in through the massive window at the far side of her chambers.
Beyond the window rose large mountains covered in bristling evergreens and sheer cliffs, giving the room an appearance the it extended right into the mountain skies. Immaculate feathers adorned her wings and shoulders up to a wicked curved beak. Smokey gray fur blended smoothly into her black shoulder blades, wings decorated in white bands that spanned their entire length. Sorchal walked up next to her to admire the view. He always envied her this room, sacrificing privacy for such a reminder of freedom, the jagged peaks that called to something primal within him.
"I always love flying your territories, Niera," he said, the sun drawing nearer the mountaintops.
Her feathers ruffled. "I wonder how long we can keep it. Every time I send out my surveyors there are three new human cities, and each previous twice as large as they were last." She turned her beaked head towards him, sky blue eyes sharp and clear. "Has your father decided yet? Is that why he sent you?"
Sorchal shook his head. "He'd come himself if that were the case." He tried to lighten his tone, steer the conversation elsewhere. "I'm simply here to check in on our most valued allies, and generously offer what I may."
"Not a single demand and I don't have to put up with him lording around my own palace?"
"I'm here to serve, my Queen." Sorchal extended his wings into the large room to bow himself properly, though the display was less one of deference than to show off his rich scales, glittering deep red and flecked golden along his lean and powerful body.
Niera snorted. "Is that so? Well then, care to indulge an old woman?" The Matriarch stalked towards her bed, a large mound of silk pillows in all manner of forest colors - grays and browns and greens. A depression formed a nest at the center which Niera stepped into before stretching herself, lithe hind legs raising her hips into the air, tail raised teasingly.
As Sorchal approached, Niera lowered herself into her nest of pillows, half curled in upon herself. But once situated, she rolled her lower half to provide him an inviting view of her belly, legs parted naturally.
"I have so few who let me drone on without interruption, without trying to push some shortsighted agenda." She looked up at him expectantly, no less regal despite her position. In fact Sorchal had a hard time thinking of anything to say. He had always appreciated the beauty of other species, but Niera possessed that of body and mind, a combination far more rare. It had been so long since he'd been reminded of that.
He approached slowly, pretending to be his usual recalcitrant self while trying to regain a modicum of self control. "I imagine if you presented your request under the right circumstances you'd find a few left speechless."
She purred. "Oh? What kind of circumstance might that be?"
It had been a long flight. Sorchal nuzzled her belly, marveling at her luxurious fur, impossibly soft and further warmed by the sunlight upon her. A sweet fragrance clung to her body, earthy and warm like the forest after a summer rain. He ran his snout up and down her slender stomach, ruffling her fur then smoothing it again, feeling her muscles tense when he brushed past a row of the stiff nipples hidden beneath her sleek coat.
A wide paw came to rest along the side of Sorchal's neck just behind his ear, reminding him this was her indulgence, not his. Obediently he let his snout drift lower, guided by the gentle weight of her paw, down into the crook of her thigh where own scent pierced through the perfumed cloud that clung to her body.
Sorchal preferred her true scent, the subtle musky sharpness, every so slightly earthy and warm. So warm. He exhaled softly into her fur, his humid breath momentarily accentuating her to his sensitive nose, and he could no longer resist.
His serpentine tongue reached out to taste her, at first a hesitant taste of her thigh, not quite against the inviting heat of her mammaliansex. Even that small touch set Niera's claws reflexively into his neck, though they clicked harmlessly against his scales.
As much as he wanted to tease the Matriarch, she ensnared his senses, the faintly salty tang of her skin making his mouth water. Restraint failed him, and Sorchal hungrily sought the inviting heat of her pussy, already wet with anticipation. He trailed short, slow licks across her slit, enjoying her taste, her heat, the soft sigh of pleasure his touch produced.
Eventually he reached the top of her pussy and the small crown nested inside its peak, a wondrous feature of her exotic anatomy. Sorchal lapped at the gentle swell that hid away far more sensitive flesh. She had been the one to teach him how to gently coax her body to relax, expose herself to him, but all in due time.
Instead, he let his tongue extend into her, insides quivering powerfully, her body seeming to grow tighter as the thicker parts of his tongue stretched her lips. The slight tang of her animalistic taste covered the length of his tongue, her scent irresistible. He couldn't deny his own excitement, and he'd probably make an embarrassing mess of her floor, but that thought didn't make it past the very outer edge of his mind.
Niera cooed softly. "I'd forgotten what wonderful creatures you are." Her thighs twitched when his tongue explored just the right areas.
"I assume your father knows about their mages too by now." Her claws tightened, not out of pleasure. "Crazed fools. How many dead? But they're learning. Fast. Too fast." Despite her increasingly labored breaths, the matriarch never switched off. "The have no idea the powers they play with. How much longer until they're a danger to us all? I don't like what my augurs tell me."
Sorchal expected nothing less, and he knew better than to stop. His tongue reached towards her depths, the muscles running the length of her tunnel impressive, a wonderfully exotic sensation, undulating around him, taunting him with what awaited.
Cool mountain air discouraged his slit from parting, from exposing his length to the chill but could only abate him so long. Dragons existed as long as the world itself, and no amount of time had erased the inexorable primal instincts branded into each of his kind. Muscles all along his belly and down his tail tensed in pleasurable waves, demanding he take the female before him, to claim his rightful place above her, his claim of her. Thick precum dripped audibly against the stone floor.
Sorchal panted, only furthering the draconic lust clawing at his very being, Niera's scent dominating his senses, coercing him to give into a base ecstasy. Of course he could control himself, but he wished he couldn't.
"Half of my court wishes to purge them. We'd drive the survivors underground for a century or two perhaps, then face the Seven Claws again. And by the hundreds." Niera brought both sets of feline claws to Sorchal's neck, her thighs closing around his head.
"We lose." She growled. "And I feel like the only one who bothers to see it." Her hips bucked up against Sorchal's snout. "Each passing year leaves our position worse. Our options fewer."
Perhaps the matriarch forgot the sensitivity of a dragon's ears, but he know the final whisper was never meant for anyone but herself.
"And I'm so tired."
Hearing vulnerability in one of the most powerful creatures in the world sent a pang of guilt through Sorchal's gut. Some of this burden rightfully belonged to him, yet he let it fall upon others while enjoying the privileges of his birth.
In the moment, he let desire consume that part of his mind rather than face reality, nearly giving in, relinquishing control to a primeval fire that raged in his chest. He thrust his tongue as deep as he could, snout pressed into Niera's soft forgiving body. When he began to withdraw from her, he curled the base of his tongue, letting his appendage conform to the ever so delicate bump near her entrance, teasing her with the entire length of his serpentine tongue.
She crooned in delight, claws scraping at his scales. Her entrance nearly squeezed tight enough to deny him, but he forced his tongue between her lips once again with the sole focus on her internal clitoris. For once the Matriarch grew quiet, her lean torso writhing in her nest of pillows, the fluid motions of her body growing jerky and random.
Her thighs clenched, trapping Sorchal's snout, and then her body froze, muscles locked tight, only her sex momentarily releasing before spasming around his tongue in wave after wave nearly powerful enough to hurt.
Sorchal continued to tend her throughout her orgasm, his tongue avoiding the oversensitive nub within and instead teasing her outer lips, lapping up her modest release. He continued obediently until told otherwise.
"You have turned out to be quite the diplomat I see." Niera breathed hard but her commanding tone never wavered, exuding the calm composure he always associated with her.
The ruby scales at Sorchal's snout glistened, her scent covering his nose and tongue, his dick nearly fully revealed from his slit. He too panted, each breath renewing her sensory command of him. Maybe he had relaxed his control too much, her belly exposed to him, her sex glistening and ready. He wasn't even sure he could speak, crouched, shoulders back, ready. It took all of his will to remain still, to not take her right then.
Niera gracefully rolled her legs underneath herself and stood. "My my, such a dangerous look about you." She sauntered past him, letting her side brush along his snout, hip bumping him. Her tail remained raised, curling under his chin. "And I see I've sparked some level of admiration as well." The taunting voice came from behind him. Eventually she finished her short stroll, appearing on his other side.
The matriarch once more stepped in front, up to the edge of her pillows and wiggled her still wet rump in his face. "Give in. I want to see it. I want to know a dragon's true self."
Sorchal's voice sounded more growl than words. "I couldn't, Matriarch."
Her head turned, leveling a fierce eye towards him. "Don't make me order you." She arched her back, walking her talons forward and further exposing herself, tail high, inviting. Demanding. "I want you to give me an excuse not to appear in court tomorrow."
Even in their past encounters she had never treated him so. It was growing too much, chipping away at his control, a control that he had never lost, not since he first became an adult.
"That'sit," Niera's toned rear rocked back and forth, the fur around her lips matted. "That's the look in your eyes I want. Show me your father's blood, the blood of the gods themselves."
Sorchal growled, wisps of inky black smoke curling from his nostrils. "Please," he begged in a whisper. The gentle sway of her hips, tail - hypnotic. "Don't."
Niera lowered her chest nearly to the ground, head turned to keep a glittering eye on him. "I'm waiting."
Sorchal pounced, his chest driving down between her shoulder-blades, forcing her body into the nest of pillows below her, but the claws he dug into her belly kept her hind legs raised.
Niera's wings spread in an attempt to balance, but Sorchal smothered them with his, easily overpowering delicate feathers with leather and scale. A brief moment of clarity took him, his jaws closing on the Matriarch's neck, his saliva glistening on the well preened feathers around her throat. He grew still, trying to clear the fog from his mind, pure lust driving his body. This was wrong.
"Don't hold back on me, whelping." Niera's words didn't break him, but when she tried to rise, her hips trying to throw him off balance, her feigned defiance triggered something beyond Sorchal's control, something deeply draconic that made sure he wouldn't lose this chance to mate.
Fangs sank into her soft neck, crushing feathers, drawing the metallic tang of blood onto his tongue. He jerked her neck to one side in a cruel position, ensuring she dare not resist further, his hind claws scrambling on the stones made slick with his anticipation, and bludgeoned himself against her rump.
No amount of licking would fully prepare her to take him, but between how wet he'd left her, and the constant flow of thick precum that now leaked down her thighs, Niera couldn't deny his advance. He thrust wildly, his blunt head smearing her, slipping up against the base of her tail before he could correct his angle. In his lust-blinded state, he didn't think, simply battered her rigid body until he felt the slightest give.
That hint of surrender was all he needed to drive his thick head between her lips, breaking the last of her body's resistance. Sorchal let her tight grip naturally align the two of them. Then he claimed her. The savage hold Sorchal held on the Matriarch's neck barely let her breath. She didn't make a sound when his massive cock sheathed in the warmth of her body, but he felt the weak attempt to, her upper torso tensing, wanting to cry out.
A long, deeply suppressed thrill filled Sorchal, an inferno raging through his body. Pleasure he had all but forgotten compelled him. He repositioned, and drove home the final blow, his scaly pelvis slapping Niera's soft, meaty butt, forcing his entire length upon her in two severe strokes. An intoxicating bliss caused him to falter, torn between feeling her tight body strain around him, all of him, and needing to rut his conquest.
Sorchal clawed at her belly, finding the leverage to pull free of her pussy's grip, her insides dragging while the thick fleshy barbs that surrounded his crown clutched at her inner walls. Niera shuddered beneath him, her talons shredding unfortunate silk pillows, their stuffing bleeding out onto the floor.
It felt an agonizing eternity, his patience only waiting for half of his length to pull free of her grasp before slamming back in, reaching her innermost limit. Her hind claws skittered uselessly over stone flooring, unable to get any traction to spare herself from his assault.
It could have been over that quickly, the pleasure he found in her body unlike any other. Even the part of him that remembered her as a sentient being adored Niera, the one thought that managed to penetrate the haze enthralling him. He could have spilled his seed into her womb then, his body already on the edge, but he denied himself, unwilling to let it end now, before she understood her place beneath him, as his. His.
Sorchal lost himself, his precum filling every crevice of her insides, finally allowing him to take her with the frantic need coiled within his lithe muscles. Each time he struck her body's limit brought a flash of pleasure through body and mind, his crown flaring in an attempt to lock himself within her pussy, knowing he took everything he could of her.
His fierce breaths sent smoke curling into the air, singing the delicate silk pillows in front of his snout. His. Her delicate body squeezed around him so tightly, yet he ravaged her regardless, hips carrying enough momentum to nearly tear free of her sex before letting his full weight grind her face into the pillows, her fragile throat locked in his jaws. Even in his current state, he'd never truly harm her, never break her so badly she couldn't bear his eggs.
His resolve couldn't last forever though. The way her body twitched when he touched the entrance of her womb, the full-bodied shivers when he withdrew, the clench of anticipation right before he reclaimed her depths. No longer, she felt too wonderful.
Sorchal pulled her backwards onto his cock even as he thrust against her, nearly breaking her, claws tearing hide, but ensuring he pressed fully against her womb when the first wave of seed poured into her, the spines around his head fully flared, locking within her gut.
The savage grip he held on her neck loosened, a great breath gathering within Sorchal's chest, readied to roar his pleasure at the mountaintops. His mate knew better than to pull away, her utter submission all that allowed a flicker of clarity to let the roar die in his chest, instead lowering himself over Niera, covering her body and wings, eyes closed.
Bliss seared away the lust, soothing the ruthless hunger, letting Sorchal writhe in pleasure, feeling his thick cum bloat Niera's insides, spill down her thighs and steaming where it crashed noisily to the stones below them. His claws tore angry red lines in her tough hide, Sorchal unable to control his muscles, all undulating in waves to mirror his orgasm, a concerted effort to empty himself into Niera.
Unfortunately, the pleasure eventually dissolved, leaving him exhausted and aware. Sorchal slumped off Niera's back, barely keeping himself upright, his softening length already retracting into his body. Cum splashed in a continuous stream to the ground, his heavy seed no longer trapped within, her hind legs opalescent, soaked.
Even before his seed finished emptying from her, Niera collapsed to the ground. The sight of her battered form shattered Sorchal's post-orgasm high. Shame left a crushing feeling in his chest, nearly a physical pain.
Crushed and ruffled feathers circled her neck, flecked with blood. Shallow gashes marred her outer thigh and belly where his claws sliced her, not serious, but some deep enough for blood to darken her smokey fur. Her chest rose and fell in ragged breaths. Torn and singed pillows lay about her, perfectly framing the chaos of their mating.
Sorchal felt sick, but he forced himself to speak. "N-Niera?"
Her wing fluttered halfheartedly. "Hush." Even laying there, after what he did to her, the tone of command carried her chest.
Sorchal felt useless. He nuzzled her shoulder gently before gathering her up and curling his long body around her, heedless of the mess. Would she even want him touching her after the way he treated her? Niera rubbed her cheek along Sorchal's scaled foreleg. No dragon, let alone one of his station, should ever lose control like that, and to the Matriarch herself. He didn't dare himself to speak, so he simply lay there with her, letting the last slivers of sunlight fade from the room, replaced by the dim glow of lantern light.
Eventually Niera stretched herself, talons and rear-legs splayed, back arching before she stood and shook herself. Many of her black and white feathers no longer sat correctly, giving her a feral demeanor. Sorchal scrambled to his feet after her then prostrated himself, chin to the floor.
"I'm sorry, Matriarch. I should never-"
"Have done what I asked?" Niera's fierce sky-blue eyes silenced him. "Do you think I'm some pampered fop?" She left left paw-prints of his cum in her wake, pussy dripping even now.
Sorchal cringed. "Still, I lost control."
The matriarch laughed, her voice a bit hoarse. She walked her talons out, bowing low into a stretch before turning on him. "If that's the worst you can manage then consider me unimpressed. From the boasts I heard during the war - well now I know why none ever took up my offer." She huffed. "All talk as usual, your kind."
"I hurt you." Sorchal started at his claws, trying to ignore the prodigious mess he'd made of Niera's bed.
"Wounds heal. You should be old enough to know that by now." Niera stalked towards him, not so much as the hint of a limp in her stride, carrying the full grace of a predator. "I battled alongside your father before you were even born. I've killed as many as he. We built this world and the peace is ruining us. We can't afford it." Her beak nearly pressed against his snout. "We're stagnating, growing soft." The look in her eyes said that "we" applied to some more than others. Sorchal looked away, various flavors of self-loathing swirling in his gut.
Niera laughed mirthlessly and stalked away. When she spoke, her tone returned to the affable nature it had when he first entered her chambers earlier that day. "I need to ask a favor of you."
Sorchal bowed even though Niera held her back to him. "Anything, your grace."
"I have a grandson who's much like you, more of a-" she turned to peer over her shoulder at Sorchal, "scholarly type," she finished. "A bit too timid, though. He needs a mate. Talk to him."
"As you wish." He bowed his head again.
"I'll have him guard your rooms in the morning. You're dismissed."
As Sorchal quietly made his way towards the door, Niera stepped in front of him. "Return to me tomorrow evening." She smiled as much as a gryphon could. Her tail playfully batted his snout, leaving him one last look at her well-bred lips, cum matting her fur. Lowering his eyes only let him see the full extent of her chambers, from the large puddle where they mated, to the paw-prints left by Niera. Laughter followed him as he left through Niera's antechamber alone.