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A Dragon's Fantasy

For Rhajaro

By Draconicon

Draconicon had taken years to drag himself out of a pit of submission that had nearly claimed his sanity. He had been slutting it up with dozens of different men, and nearly as many women, where his libido had been in complete control of him and driven him to serve in as many ways as one could imagine, and maybe a few more.

But now, the black dragon had finally dragged himself free of that. He had a harem of lovely submissives that were eager to serve him. He had several close friends with benefits that were happy to be under his heel. He had everything that anyone with a bit of assertiveness could ever want for themselves.

And yet, despite that, he was still struggling against that other side of himself. The side that needed to raise its tail and go down to the back alleys and get FUCKED.

Draconicon sat on one of the many thrones that he could summon from the ether, his hands gripping the marble arms of it as tightly as they possibly could. The turmoil, the need inside of him swirled hard and fast, and his libido kept corrupting every thought that passed through his head into something perverted and submissive.

He needed to make contact with a bunch of kobolds in a nearby mountain range, give them some aid so that they could continue operating as his spies.

And you could go in there and give them other aid, lifting your tail for the little scalies, sucking their toes, giving them some -

He shook his head, pushing his thoughts to another task. He could go down to the alchemy labs at the bottom of his tower, start making some potions for the local Alchemists' Guild, earn a few more gold coins for his own purposes.

And then sell your body for a few more.

The black dragon slammed his fist down on the stone throne, groaning under his breath as he muttered to himself.

"You are not a slut anymore. You don't have to do this. You don't have to go out there and...do that..."

No matter how many times he told himself that, his body continued to ache and burn beneath his tail. His asshole was begging to be stretched, to feel the pressure of a male against him, to feel his body pressed to the ground and his ankles shackled and his cock ringed and -

He pushed himself out of his chair. There was no help for it. He would need to...indulge.

But not with anything real, he told himself. You are not pulling off a meta-physical booty call, and you are not calling someone over from anywhere else. Toys. Just...toys...and porn...

That seemed to satisfy the dragon's ass and submissive side well enough.

After teleporting to a different room of his tower, the dragon flicked his hand towards one of the curved walls beside his bed. It opened to a selection of different people that he kept magical tabs on, different folk that he had met and had wanted to keep an eye on. Some of them were useful, while others...

There were others that were there purely for eye candy and sin-spiration, as he called what his brain was inspired by when it came to submission. He flicked through them with a couple of gestures, eventually settling on an old friend.

A hybrid, the wotter - wolf-otter - was something of a warrior, somewhere between a holy man and a fighter. Not quite a paladin, though. He was too, ahem, lusty for something like that. The dragon looked over him again, appreciating the well-toned muscles under the wotter's brown fur, his eyes following the lines of the body down to the wotter's rump.

He half-hoped that he'd be turned on by the swimmer's bare backside as the mammal swam through the water, but there was nothing. Not even the slightest stir to his dick, nothing pushing him to take it.

Fuck...

Sighing, the dragon turned to his closet, knowing what the next step was going to be.

Arrayed before him were a series of dildos, some of them long, some of them short, some fat, some slender. There were rods beside them, meant to go down inside the cock, but he resisted the urge to throw sounding onto his menu for the moment. Instead, he just picked one of the bigger dildos.

It was nine and a half inches long, and almost throbbed in his hand as he picked it up. It was cast of a strange mix of flesh and magic, making it feel real rather than like some little plastic toy. He had made sure of that.

Lowering the rod to his cock, he blushed as he had the reminder that the wotter had the same thickness as him. Three inches across, heavy in the hand, the dildo was one of those that he didn't use so often. Mostly because the stretch encouraged the need in his backside to stick around for a lot longer, pushing him to stay in a submissive frame of mind. It was almost like a curse.

But, when he was this affected, he couldn't stick with the weak toys. He needed to hit this need, hard.

He put the toy on the bed, stroking a finger from the tip to the base. On contact, the material started to ooze a slippery lube, almost like pre that bled from the skin. It was a heavy, thick layer of it, and it smelled of wotter musk and need.

God, it smelled of it. He shivered, his toes curling as he imagined his old friend standing right there beside him, getting ready to shove him over the side of the bed. The dragon had some strength from simply being a dragon, but nothing against someone that actually went out in the world and worked out and...did things. He'd be helpless, his ass waiting to be claimed, to be fucked, stretched, gaped...

Owned...

His cheeks burned as he imagined someone actually taking it that far. He'd run so many times from so many tops, and each time, he had managed to keep them from taking that last step. It was a fun thought, though, a sexy, dangerous, risky thought about pushing his limits so far and waiting for someone to be good enough to claim him properly.

Nobody had, though, he reminded himself. Nobody was that good.

Yet.

He shivered, his toes curling hard enough for the claws to scratch the stone floor. He turned his back to the toy, getting on the bed and squatting over it. His favorite position was to squat on the balls of his feet, to hover over the toy, to feel the tip rubbing against his asshole. It was a way of teasing himself, telling himself that he was resisting, that he hadn't given in. His cock throbbed, twitching to life, soon hard as it could be merely from the touch of the fake dick to his asshole.

God...Why...why can't I get rid of this...

The urges demanded that he sit on the dildo, that he slam it up his ass and ride it as hard as he could. He managed to hold out, at least, long enough to look back at the wotter.

He had gotten out of the water, the hybrid sitting down on a rock and wiggling his toes, drying his feet in the wind that blew through the area. The dragon's eyes fell on them, staring at the show he was getting, and he shivered further as he imagined those wiggling, dripping toes on top of his cock.

The webbing would be rubbing it all over the place, he thought. The toes would trap it, hold it, keep it from getting away...

The idea of a foot holding his cock captive actually had him squirting pre over the stone floor, lines of the clear fluid leading back to where he squatted over the toy. His cheeks burned all the hotter as he realized that he wanted to be fucked, that he wanted to feel the wotter's cock so deep inside of him.

That he wanted to be pounced, held down...rutted...

"Mmmph...let's knock this...knock this out of my system."

With his tail up and flagged slightly to the side, Draconicon reached back and parted his ass cheeks, letting the toy slide in a bit more fully, a bit more deeply. The scaly cheeks dimpled at his touch, his fingers sinking into the plush flesh as he slowly lowered himself. The lubed tip of the wotter's dick toy pressed against his hole, and - due to that long history as a slut - it popped right in.

"Mmmph!"

He gasped, his toes curling into the bedsheets in a vain attempt to control himself. The hunger had been teased, and now it needed to be sated.

Draconicon dropped himself, hard, slamming his plush rump down on the toy and swallowing the whole thing into his ass all at once. He gasped, his head rolling back on his neck, staring up at the ceiling for a moment as his body went on autopilot. Up, down, up, down, each slam making his ass jiggle just a bit, and each slide up making him pant as he felt the toy sliding out of him.

His cock bobbed and bounced with the teasing, swinging up to slap him in the belly, then swinging down to hit the bed. Each time, he felt his balls bounce, too, falling down with a tense smack against the sheets, or against empty air, but the weight of that as he rode the fake cock was all the better.

"Ah...ah...ah..."

He panted as he bounced up and down, moaning to himself. The feeling of that cock...the idea of the wotter being there...of losing more and more of his status as a mage to his own addiction...

Grunting, he looked down again, staring at the image in front of him.

The wotter was looking back at him, almost like he knew that he was being filmed, and...and he was stroking himself, teasing a long line of pre out of his cock and onto one of his feet. The hybrid smirked at him, curling a finger, almost like he was tickling it under the head of a cock.

Draconicon came then and there, shooting his seed through the air and splattering it all over the floor. He fell back, grunting as he impaled himself almost entirely on the toy, feeling it at risk of actually being swallowed into his ass. He barely cared; it felt too good.

And he had a feeling that he'd need to invite the wotter to his tower before too much longer...for research purposes, of course.

The End