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Her Claim to a Slave

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Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)

Commissioned by Aquilan

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The eagle came around slowly, blinking back to full wakefulness as he groaned, every muscle in his body aching. Yet it was a good kind of ache, his shaft pulsating, though it no longer felt all that much like he had enjoyed a reward and a release the night before, not after so much had gone on. His cock was sore, even if it had been allowed to relax again, and he breathed as slowly and as evenly as he could as the dragoness beside him rose.

Aquilan stilled. He could not move until his mistress, the dragoness who had come to dominate his life in so many ways even though he was submissive to all there, deemed that he could. Sairsyn was as seductive in her blue scales as she always had been, though the tribe of dominant dragons had forced the ex-knight (he couldn't call himself that anymore) to reconsider his position in the world. The eagle licked the edge of his beak, although his mouth was too dry to allow too much moisture to ease forth. Even then he could not help but stare at and adore her body, breath catching in his throat.

Perhaps other knights and even the king too would have mocked him for how far he'd fallen. Yet Aquilan, in a way, was right where he should have always been.

"Stand."

He scrambled upright in an instant, though his knees automatically wanted to buckle. He didn't know what to do, his conditioning training him to kneel while Sairsyn gave him different instructions. Yet he could only do what he was instructed as the dragoness prepared him for the day, a smile on her lips and a glint in her eye. He could have done so much of it herself but, well, there was something especially demeaning about being treated as if he was not capable of doing things for himself, when the simple fact of the matter was that he was no longer permitted to do things. That was the cause and case of being a slave, his red tail-feathers trembling faintly where the slice of colour was visible, wrists obediently crossed behind his back before even being asked.

"Let's get you ready..."

She washed off his cock with a dirty-looking rag as if he was not worth anything between, even pushing it up and between his backside, feathers darkening with water. Aquilan shuddered from the cold but stayed in place as he was prepared, his shaft forced hard with a cock ring, though he knew that that was not for his pleasure. Sairsyn said she had something special in mind for him but he had learned to tune things like that as the muscular dragoness took charge. She always had something planned for him and, truth be told, even as a slave, he knew that he had not disliked everything that had been done. It had only turned his entire world upside down, forced him to look at things in a different way than he ever had before.

But that was okay. Things weren't meant to stay the same forever and, despite everything, the day felt like one of change.

His ankles were locked in suitable manacles, hobbled with a short length of metal, so that he was more restricted than if chain or rope was used. Aquilan shivered but his wrists were locked behind his back too so that his winged arms could not be used to cover his shaft - not that his training would have allowed him to do that anyway. The instinct and the desire, however deep down it was, was still there, either way.

A leather harness was secured around his torso, cutting below his chest and leaving the feathered abdominals exposed, showing him off in a new way, though Sairsyn had one more piece for him. He had not worn any kind of clothes since he had come to the tribe and submitted to them, but the harness for his lower half, around his buttocks and no higher than his hips, could have counted as such, at a push. It left more of his feathers on show, however, than it hid and perfectly framed his cock as the dragoness deftly buckled it in place.

"There... And now you're ready. You must look your best today, after all, for the ceremony."

Tapping his cock, she ran a claw down the length, sending a shiver down his spine that could have been pleasure or strain. Sometimes, with Sairsyn, it was both.

He stiffened but it should not have been anything all that much of a surprise to Aquilan that his cock was to remain on pride of place, his need tingling through him, for the course of the day. It was just another humiliation for him as he was forced to accompany Sairsyn to the quarters of the dragonesses in charge (did they call them commanders there? He had not paid much attention while going through training), discussing the ceremony that was to take place. He heard his name and perked up, though a paw pushed his head back down a moment later, a short, sharp green dragoness clicking her tongue disapprovingly against the roof of her mouth.

"Sairsyn... This one needs to fall into line."

Leaning back in her wooden seat, the dragoness grinned and raised an eyebrow.

"He's already right where I need him to be."

She didn't have to prove herself to anyone but there would forever be plays of power and dominance amongst the dragons as she shoved her slave to the ground right before the breakfast table. Aquilan grunted as his beak bounced off the stone but it was on his chest that he was forced to balance, his backside raised and, humiliatingly, in the perfect position for her clawed feet to be propped up on it, showing off just how low he was in the status quo of the tribe.

He slipped into a softer, deeper state of submission there beside the table, something that he would never have been able to do in times before coming to the tribe. He had been a top then, an eagle that had loved ladies for all that they could offer him, but all the tables had turned so that he was there to serve them instead. It was a simpler way of being and one, truly, that he had never before considered, though a knight could never have been asked to consider such a thing - not with the position in itself that he had been in.

It was hard to work through: too much of a slave. It was easier to let his mind drift, to sink down and down and down, to do nothing more than to act as her footstool, her feet up on his arse. No one thought anything the more of it in such company as he rocked his weight gently, relieving the pressure on his knees, yet Aquilan knew well enough that he would be there to server her regardless of how much his body ached. That was just the way it had to be for a slave.

"Come now."

The collar around his neck never moved but she yanked the leash attached to it, drawing it tight against his throat. He may have hacked and gagged and coughed but the eagle was more concerned with scrambling up, however difficult that was with his hobble still in place.

The day moved on without him, though he was but a passive player in it. He oversaw the building of a stage in the main area, away from the canvas tents of the dragons that preferred a place to reside outside the stone of the rudimentary castle. Although the castle was a smaller affair than what he may have been used to in his corner of the world, it had become more elaborate and extravagant during his time together, the armoury better ordered due to his influence. Sairsyn, after all, was all for using her slaves and those under her command to the best of their ability and she had seen something in him that they could continue to make use of there. He just did not realise how much as yet.

"Here..."

The day had worn on and the eagle started at being asked to mount the steps to the staging area, more and more dragons flooding in. He wondered if they were inducting a new slave that day, for he remembered a stage just like that on which he had been bound and displayed not long after he had arrived there too, although it was in a different location. No, that one was in the castle dungeons, dry and fresh despite typically being a dank, dark sort of place, the walls lined with flickering, dancing torchlight.

Slowly, carefully. The shadows taunted him, making him miss a step with his hobbles on and crash to his knees. Yet Mistress Sairsyn was there to assist him, hefting him up by his harness and depositing him on the stage on his knees. It was still humiliating to be handled like that but there was nothing that Aquilan could do about it as the dungeon packed with dragons, everyone whispering and hissing, some jests and jeers reaching his ears.

"How much will he scream?"

"No, he knows his place."

"An example to all slaves here."

"A cock that I want to try out one day..."

"You'll never get by Sairsyn."

Aquilan shivered. He had been whored out, so to speak, by Sairsyn before and that was not the strangest thing that had happened to him so far, not by far. He knew that that was a possibility and he was more than well trained enough by that point to serve absolutely anyone there in any way that they could have needed. That was his work there, his place, knees more comfortable with kneeling than they were with standing, and he knew that that was his right too. Maybe it was a right that he had been born with even though he had not realised it before.

"Dear slave..." Sairsyn called his attention back to her, clad in ceremonial armour that showed off the curves of her breasts in such a way that could not have been practical in battle. "Are you aware of what is going on yet?"

Aquilan blinked. What did she mean? Alas, he had not been permitted to speak even though she was directly addressing him, chest tight with something that the eagle could not put words to.

She snapped her fingers, eyes suddenly blazing intensely.

"Here."

He scrambled to her, though he had to awkwardly pushing himself to his feet with his hands, struggling to get up with the hobbles. Yet those were soon to come off as she unlocked first his ankle manacles and the ones around his wrists, letting them all drop to the floor, one after the other. The clank of metal on wood echoed forth and he caught his breath.

All eyes were on him. How could he have missed that?

But it was something that he could not be held accountable for missing, oh no, not at all. He didn't see them looking at him because he was just a slave, a lowly slave, and his only purpose in being there was to serve. Sairsyn smirked, allowing herself a moment, yet a dragoness like her could do as she willed, her armour gleaming but, as he finally realised, fastened in such a way that it could easily slip away from her perfect, well-oiled scales. He should know that they were oiled to perfection after he had spent so long that very day, earlier that day, stroking the oil into the.

She left, however, the heaviest collar of all around his neck, a metal ring that was soldered shut at the back. He'd thought that that was his mark of being a slave there but he was yet to see what was there for him, his cock jutting out on show still even though he wished to let it slip down and away. Everything about him was in prime position for the ladies to use and abuse, to admire as they pleased, and the thing about it was, being a slave, that Aquilan didn't have a damn thing he could do or say about it.

"Ladies!"

Sairsyn cried, ignoring him as she turned to the crowd, a grin on her lips and tail flicking back and forth lightly. It was not for him to step forward and, so, Aquilan stood there as if being a slave was something that he had been doing his whole life, as natural to him as breathing.

"We are gathered for the ceremony of slavery, the claiming of a slave who has shown promise! As much as slaves can, that is..."

The dragonesses rippled with laughter but it was a good-natured kind of laughter, light and lilting. After all, they all knew and acknowledged that there was a difference, indeed, between the males that they took as slaves and the ladies that ruled, a set difference that could not be overcome in any way. Even Aquilan accepted it as the order of the day - how could he not?

"For this ceremony, I, myself, will be taking this eagle to forever be bound into my service!"

Aquilan started, eyes wide. That was what she'd meant? Wasn't he already bound to her service? What did that mean for him? His heart pounded, the stamping of so many feet setting the stage vibrating under his feet, the dungeon taking on a darker, more foreboding air than before. Yet the fear within him was not for the sense of being bound to her forever but to leave her, something in him already tied to the dragoness in a way that he simply could not explain.

He didn't want to go. He took a breath. He wanted to be there, only there, with her, forever.

Was a ceremony to make it official, in the way of the tribe, so bad?

Sairsyn rounded on him and he gulped, quailing before her as much as his heart pounded for her. With his legs free, his knees could buckle, though the eagle still kept his feet close together, swaying as if he was still hobbled. The indoctrination rang deep.

"First... We will test your flexibility, your ability to be bound."

That was not for him to have any hand in as Sairsyn took pride in her abilities, showing off her personal slave and putting him on display in the best of ways.

"You don't need this."

It was almost a shame to allow his cock to soften, although he remained half-hard with his fleshy length aching for what could not be explained, panting and heaving, his chest rising and falling more sharply than ever with every breath. There were two pillars on the stage and the first stage of his bondage saw him stretched between them, spread-eagled, though that was not the difficult part of the bondage. No... No, the strain was in having his harnesses unbuckled and replaced with rope bondage, a harness that crisscrossed his chest and down to his hips in an intricate fashion. The rope was silver to off-set his brown feathers perfectly, a subtle look and one that was more royal than a slave deserved.

"Breathe out..."

He had to obey, beak parted obediently for the ball gag that was fitted and designed especially for his beak-shape, shoved in to the back of his mouth so that any manner of speech was stolen from him. There were no cuffs for him that time and Sairsyn demonstrated her skills aptly in looping and wrapping the rope skilfully to distribute the weight well, avoiding them cutting in across veins and bones. There was an art to that and there was no one, even in the tribe, that could match up to her. That was, however, a biased view from Aquilan, the eagle who had fallen well and truly under her spell during his time there.

Aquilan's chest rose and fell sharply, the rope harness winding down his thighs, though the pattern that Sairsyn made pointed to his cock, the main event - for toying with and abusive of course, using him as a slave was due, always to be used. For flexibility to take place...one had to first stretch.

He was drawn taut, so spread-eagled that it felt as if his limbs were going to pop out of their sockets, ankles strained wide. That was just the way she wanted him to be, shifting his weight but only barely, wanting more, fearing what was to come next and yet leaning into it hungrily all the same.

He didn't know why. He didn't have to know why.

Aquilan whimpered, twisting his head back and forth, beak parted as he tried to breathe through it instead of his nares. But the dragoness was there before him, fondling a bullwhip, smirking as the long tail ran through her fingers repeatedly.

"Slave... You must prove yourself to me first."

The dragons roared for the main event but he did not know quite yet everything that was to come. All the poor eagle slave could do in the middle of the stage was grunt and groan, trying to hang his head and finding that even that was taken from him as a posture collar, cruelly, was slipped around his neck. It eased under even the metal of the heavy one that was still in place, pulling his head and neck forward, though he could not bend, could not twist, forced through the ache in his neck to bear through it all.

The whip whistled through the air, the crisscross of rope meaning that she had to employ greater delicacy and tact in striking his feathered hide. That, of course, was not a problem to Sairsyn who knew more than just how to treat a slave like him, breathing slowly and evenly, the crack of the whip's tail as she sliced it back through the air perfectly striking his buttocks.

The eagle howled through the gag but even that cry was muffled as he hopped and danced, tail-feathers fanning out to expose the crimson, for that was one of the few parts of his body that he could still move and was under his control. It was a small victory for him even as the pain of the whipping exploded though him, the long, six-foot whip giving him plenty of time to think about how much the last lash had hurt before the next struck true. It was a deep bite and a sting that rose to a burn as she played the whip between each diamond in the ropes, a stray feather stripped away where it had been halfway on its way to shedding.

"See how he dances? You do not cage a bird like this but put it on show."

Aquilan may have begged to differ there but his half-hard cock told a different tale, half-swollen and only not completely swollen as the pain took charge of his mind. That didn't stop the stream of pre-cum from flowing forth, even his body and holding back climax no longer under his control as Sairsyn played his body so beautifully, toying with him as if it was nothing at all.

And then her paw was on him, raking her nails over the painful spots, where she had struck him, bringing a burning flare of viciousness in the wake of the strokes of her whip. Her claws bit deeper than even the whip as she pressed them in, careful not to catch the ropes, for, after all, she wouldn't have wanted to disturb her handiwork. Even through the gag, the bird could still be heard, a minute frown tugging at Sairsyn's lips, grunting softly in the back of her throat.

"Tsk... Such a noisy slave."

There may have been a note of playfulness in her tone but that didn't stop Aquilan from shuddering, whimpering and trying to turn his head back and forth again. The strain in his shoulders was unbelievable and all he wanted to do was to bring his legs together again, to relieve just a little of the pressure on his body. However, that was not for him to do when the dragoness was engaged in dominating him, looming over him so easily despite the muscle beneath his feathers. The eagle trembled as she nipped and sank her teeth into the junction between his shoulder and neck, biting deep, the touch of blood enough to make her moan and the bird stiffen further.

His cock throbbed. She marked him with a mating bite, the scent of her need thick in the air, yet all he could do was grunt into the gag as she pressed up behind him, rocking and grinding her hips as if she was wearing a strap-on. He'd felt that buried up under his tail many times before already but his mind jumped from one thing to another as his cock throbbed, not sure if it wanted to be hard or not with that cock ring having been removed. The eagle, however, could only stand there, trembling as she drew a falconry hood over his head, the smooth leather blocking out his view of the dragons shouting for more.

His shoulder burned. His ankles ached. Was it all his fate, his test and his trial to stand and bow before his mistress?

Aquilan could not tell, did not know, his cries better muffled under the hood and the gag combined. It was a good position to be in even as she ground against him, the burning in his buttocks increasing. Had she rubbed something into them? He could not tell, the bite in his neck aching, everything tinted with pain in a way that made the eroticism of it all even more confusing. His hips rocked of his own accord as she eased around, barely allowing him any personal space at all, to tease his cock, walking her claws down to the tip of it, tempting the half-hard surface with the touch of a seductress.

"Now... This is for me, not for you. After all, these ladies deserve a show."

Aquilan's brow would have furrowed if he wasn't sweating so profusely, chest rising and falling sharply with each and every pant. He needed more, wanted something, twisting and rocking to the limit of his range of motion as her paw grasped his cock. He could not help but grow hard for her in an instant, despite the rise of pain across his buttocks and the backs of his thighs where the whip had struck, moaning into the gag while he saw nothing. Maybe that was right for him though, he thought as he drifted down and down into that soft and warm space of submission where everything was okay. Maybe he didn't need to see. As long as his body pleased Sairsyn, there was little else that mattered.

Yet he didn't expect the rush of pleasure as her pussy slid over his cock, his shaft lubricated with something that tingled strangely. It was not until it was too late that he realised what she had rubbed into his cock, dulling sensation - yet not depleting it enough that he could not feel her hot tightness and all the promise it could have held if he was allowed to thrust. He thrust only a little, rocking and pulling at his bondage, though he didn't care about the strain anymore as she rolled her hips back at him, tail casually thrown up over his shoulder with blood trickling into the feathers.

The pain rooted him in the moment, kept him from fading away entirely. And that was right where he needed to be, moaning into the gag and wanting more, his cock numbed-up and yet still hard, buried up into the pussy of a dragoness who made his heart pound so very desperately. He tried to thrust, tried to get a little more sensation, the posts creaking, yet he could not stop himself as she clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, a little warning that, even then, he could not heed. Despite his training, he was still not perfect as a slave.

His mistress slowed.

"Fix his leg, Hareema."

Dimly, he was aware of Sairsyn giving someone an instruction, the rocking of his hips continuing, yet he was not able to continue doing even that as one of his ankles was untied without any warning from the wooden pillar. Tottering, he tried to squawk, chomping on the gag, shuddering in place and suppressing the urge to look around, the posture collar restricting even that. Yet the dragoness did not want him to be able to thrust even that much as his right leg was yanked up and deftly bent, bound to itself with the ankle pressed up to his buttock.

Aquilan huffed and puffed, yet it had the desired effect of ensuring that he could not thrust, the strain in the front of his quad making things all the more difficult. Balance was the name of the gain and yet there was pleasure too, pushing through from his cock, a delicious juxtaposition to the burning pain, a reminder of his place. And just how could he ever forget his place as he groaned and shuddered right where he was? Sairsyn cried out her orgasm and he wondered, belatedly, how much she had disrobed, though even that delight had been taken from him with the luxury of the hood.

But...that wasn't for a slave. Everything there, everything he was doing, was for her. She moaned out through another orgasm, his hard prick grinding up against just the right spots inside her, though that was more the angle of her hips than anything else. He was merely there to provide the living sex toy as he slipped down deeper and deeper into submission, stilling, focusing on bracing. That was all he had to do, all he had to worry about, putting himself in the best position to let her take a third and fourth orgasm from him, her juices dripping down his cock.

"Good..."

His heart surged. He'd done good? He'd been a good slave for her? The eagle chomped eagerly at his gag, trembling in place as her pussy slid off his cock.

Everything happened quickly then, the hood and the gag removed, the eagle stripped down to his feathers of every bondage item expect from the rope harness, which was far too easy for Sairsyn to grab and toss him about. Huffing as he landed heavily on the stage, Aquilan bowed his head down, trembling, putting himself in the best place for her.

Please, touch me again...

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Oh, he hadn't thought like that when he'd first met Sairsyn but, oh... Oh, things had changed. He'd been denied, that cream that she'd massaged into his cock doing the trick of forcing him to hold off his orgasm, broken down into a fragment of who he had once been. Yet he was a better version of that even as his nearly nude mistress, having dropped her ceremonial armour for a blissfully decorative under-bust corset. He'd caught a glimpse of that, the intricate silver thread, how it had framed her breasts so wonderfully, the ache in him for them growing more and more with every passing second.

But he was a good slave, an obedient slave, blood drying on his neck from where she'd bitten him, the burning from the whip and the welts left behind from the vicious implement. He would stay there, stay down, do everything that she wanted him to. He just needed to be there for her, desiring her, beak opening and closing as he held back the words, wanting to beg for her, her touch, yet so far down that he knew he could not talk without her permission. And it was always going to be Sairsyn's needs that can first.

Always.

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Maybe that's why she chose him.

"Now, slave..." Sairsyn growled, pressing his beak down into the stage while the audience cat-called, wanting the main event. "Pledge yourself to me. In your words. Make them..." Her eyes glittered with the hint of a smirk. "Make them interesting, slave... Interesting."

He worked his beak, licking the edge. Did he have the words for something so grand? Dimly, his old life and the lure of it pushed at the back of his mind but he could not go there, could not imagine it, the scent of her thick in his nares. There was only one thing that he could do.

"Mistress..." He fumbled for the words, lifting his head only enough so that he could talk as she stepped back. "Everything I am, I give to you, I surrender to you. I have nothing, am nothing, and pledge myself to your service forever. There is nothing else left in life for me than you and I no longer crave to be anywhere else. There is no life where you are not and I wish to serve you until the end of my days."

Was that enough? Oh, he so very much hoped that it would be enough, grunting in the back of his throat, trying to clear it, trying to fish up more and more words for something that he could not have said that he was entirely prepared for. But it was not his place to be warned and prepared for what his mistress had in mind, only on him to scramble to catch up, body aching, mind awhirl with the possibilities, idea after idea racing through.

His mistress shook her head, her shadow falling over him as the flames burning in the torches crackled and spat, eating up the oil. Aquilan held his breath. He could only wait, wait and hope, hope and wait. His fate was up to Mistress Sairsyn, the dragoness whose name he would never say bout would forever know. A slave, after all, never got the right to speak the name of a mistress allowed and, finally, he was okay with that. It was alright as long as he would forever remain under her firmly dominating foot.

"Very good, slave... I knew there was promise in you."

And then her paws were on him again, undressing him in his bondage, a knife flashing under the rope, undoing her work in a flurry of frayed strands. It was a shame to see it flutter down and fall, though it was a clean feeling, one that lightened him and lifted him where there may not have otherwise been any escape for him. The only escape he wanted was to flee to her feet, to throw himself down before her, aching for her touch, to deliver his services unto her. It was not all sexual, remembering the many meetings he had sat on the floor beside her during, the meals that he had waited on her paw and foot at, how he had ensured that her chambers were always set up just as she liked them. As there was much more to Aquilan than being a slave, there was so much more to Sairsyn too and it was quite likely too that he was one of very few who knew Sairsyn, her intimate likes and dislikes, so very well.

The dragoness' lips curved into a smile, jaws parted, hogtying him swiftly, the flexibility in his shoulders allowing him to stretch back behind him, looped to his ankles. They were bound back against his hamstrings, heels floating above his buttocks, a position that took a great deal of flexibility and strength, which went hand in hand more than most understood. His wings were folded in sleeves too down the length of his arms just to make sure there was no chance of him using them to wriggle free, dumped ceremoniously at the front of the stage with her tail idly toying under his tail.

Aquilan groaned, something hissing, something burning. His head swum but it was hard to think about just what that sound and smell was all about when her tail eased under his, callously penetrating him without asking permission. It was never asked for, not from a slave, and he was there only to whimper and moan for her, trying to rock his hips back but only just about succeeding in pressing them down against the stage. The dragons screamed something out, stamping and hollering, yet there was hunger and excitement in them too that some part of him longed to feed, a deeply-rooted desire that he knew that he, as a slave, could satisfy.

Every last one of them, he thought dimly. He could be what every dragoness needed him to be, taking his place at the foot of them all. Yet it was Sairsyn first and foremost, his mistress for life, that he would, doing her bidding and serving her needs, however those came to play out.

Her tail drove deep, penetrating him, though it was quite as if she was not even focusing on that part of his abuse, humiliating him with how "loose" he was, though, of course, he was as tight as ever. It was just the appearance of how relaxed he was for her, how easily he even allowed her tail in, the tapered tip smoothly rounded and easy to take, pushing up against his prostate as his cock ached and drooled pre-cum.

He wouldn't get off easily, no... No, not in such a position. But that was alright, even as something hot burned through the air, his beak tipping as if to try to follow the sense of it. What was it? He barely looked up, eyelids half-lowered, his tail-feathers fanning and fluttering, though that was just why her tail was there, shoving his feathers up and out of the way as something, he did not know what, moved closer...and closer.

Maybe he would have fought through instinct alone if he'd known what it was but it was too late as the brand pressed to his feathers, searing through, burning and killing the feathers where they were, flesh sizzling as he cried out. His shriek was overruled by the triumphant howls of the dragons, exulting in the debasing of a slave, bringing a slave down to such a peak of obedience that he was deemed fit to be branded, an honour for any slave. The pain was immense, laid as if lovingly over a spot that bore not a welt, and he tried to clamp his tail-feathers down even as she forced him to climax through the pain. Her tail thrust and thrust, the dextrous tip curling up against his prostate to milk him and milk him, though there was no relief from the orgasm.

"Good, slave..."

And then the pain was gone, left heaving and panting and sweating where he was, the scent of singed feathers and flesh lingering in the air even as the brand clattered and was set aside. It was over, it was all over, and his fate was sealed, the dragoness hauling him up, suspending him in the hogtie between the pillars, her bondage already set up so that a couple of loops of a harness could easily be tugged into place to just let him hover there. Yet the majesty of an eagle in flight no longer existed for him, reminiscent of his early days of bondage, the pledge as soft on his lips as the brand was harsh on his hip.

"Everyone will know you are mine now, slave."

That was what he wanted, all that he wanted, eyes downcast, his body hers to do with as she willed. Yet the ceremony was not yet over, more at play, her pleasure and sealing of her position remaining in the pure celebration of it all.

The dragoness smirked, flames glittering off her scales, a goddess of beauty that he would forever want to kneel before. Exhaling softly, shivering in place with a cold heat, the eagle bowed his head submissively.

He was right where he needed to be.