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_Disclaimer: This story contains consensual sexual interactions between a cub (read: Eight-year-old wolf) and an adult. If this is not your cup of tea, kindly piss off. _

_That being said, this is my first story. Please, criticize it. Tell me exactly what you did/didn't like about it. I'll never improve otherwise :3 Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it. There is a sequel story, since I previously posted this on Inkbunny and it seemed to be received well. _

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It began as I imagine you wouldn't imagine it would. Nobody ever seems to expect the dragon to be making them waffles in the kitchen, but then again, not many would expect the dragon in the first place. It was, to be honest, a fairly normal part of my day. I never knew why he always made waffles, or why he insisted that I eat them, but one does not question the whim of a living flamethrower.

"Eat, wolfling," He said, placing the plate in front of me. I grinned up at him, his emerald eyes meeting my golden ones for just a moment. He smiled ruefully, his white teeth a stark contrast to his ebony scales. A large claw rested on my head, tousling my fur. I giggled a bit, my body trembling in silent laughter, imagining we must look ridiculous: the huge black dragon, towering somewhere over seven feet, and me, a little grey wolf cub, measuring an intimidating three and half feet if I stood on tip-toe. "Eat." he said again. I knew better than to argue. I picked up my fork and dug in. It was the same thing every morning, but I never got tired of it.

The dragon took such care of me, and I was eternally thankful. Not that he knew that, since I could not speak. I tried to show him, though. I cleaned what I could and helped wherever I was able. Though, for a young wolf cub in the den of a dragon, that didn't amount to much. He'd taken me in some years ago, when I'd stumbled into his den seeking shelter from the driving rain. I'd sat shivering in the mouth of the cave, too scared to venture any further in and too cold and wet to have given it much effort in any case. My wet fur clung to me, my knees pulled to my chest. I remember crying, the tears being the only warm thing in my cold and desolate world. Then he was there, the dragon. I was too close to dead to be afraid of him. He picked me up in one huge claw, and held me to his chest. I huddled against his body, the warmth of his dragon's fire pulsing through those scales, black as night. I remember looking into them, and thinking that I was dead. All I could see were my own amber orbs staring back at me as everything fell into darkness.

He nursed me back to health, treated me through the terrible fever that followed. He told me that it was probably the fever that took my voice. I was sad then, because I couldn't tell him thank you. As the months passed, I learned new ways to talk to him. Now, he could tell most of what I wanted to say just in the way that I looked at him. When his eyes, green and ancient, met my own, I felt that he could almost see into my very soul. For all I knew, he could. He taught me to write and to read. His vast library became a playground for me. The very fever that had robbed me of my voice had also taken my ability to run and leap about as most other cubs did. It wasn't that I couldn't move well enough, but that it was so very tiring for me. It never bothered me much. There were no other cubs on the mountain. Just me and the dragon, and that was all I needed to be happy.

"What is it, wolfling?" The dragon was looking at me quizzically. I realized that I'd been staring. I shook my head rapidly, as if shaking off cobwebs. "Ah, daydreaming again, I see." I offered him my best imitation of his rueful smile. He chuckled to himself as he took the plates from the table. I didn't even remember finishing my plate.

I slid off the bench that he'd made for me, and ran to grab another of my many adaptations to his over-sized home. I hefted the small stepladder over to the basin, climbing to the top step so that I could help him to wash the plates. He chuckled again. "Always so eager to help, little wolfling. Sometimes I wonder if the fever might have taken some your wits with it." I scowled at him. I knew he was only saying it in jest, for he told me often what a clever cub I was. He laughed fully this time, a large claw ruffling my headfur again. He seemed to enjoy doing that.

I held out my hands, my standard request for the plate to wash. He handed them over, one at a time, and I scrubbed them in the basin, watching the spots and specks dissappear from the smooth stone of the plates. When I was satisfied that my task was done, I handed them back to the dragon. He turned them once over, to see that they were cleaned to his satisfaction, and then he held them aloft and let loose a small stream of fire. Steam hissed from the plates as he put them back in their place on the counter.

"Now then, wolfling, would you like to start your lessons for the day?" He looked at me sidelong, his very expression a question. As if he didn't already know my answer. I nodded emphatically and followed him into the library. Once I'd mastered my alphabet, the dragon had begun to teach me other things. Today, he was going to begin teaching me magic. After an incident wherein I'd found a book of spells and minutes later conjured a small cyclone in the middle of the library, he thought it best that I learn how to control my gift. "Dragons are naturals when it comes to magic. We use it as easily as you swish your tail. In other species, though, it must be controlled, or it wreaks... havoc." To emphasize this last word, he gestured to a small mess of pages strewn across the shelves where my first attempt at a spell had gone awry. I blushed a bit, looking down at my feet. "Don't be discouraged, wolfling. You managed that without any teaching, and more impressively, without speaking the spell aloud." I looked up then, grinning with my little inflated sense of pride. He chuckled. "First, let's teach you how to dispel things. Trying a spell isn't a smart thing to do when you can't get rid of it, eh?" My grin vanished, replaced with a scowl for his obvious jibe. He chuckled again.

He held his claw out, his ivory talons tipping his ebony claw. He began to whisper; to me, it was like he was whispering right in my ear. I could hear every syllable, though he stood a good four feet from me. Between us, a small vortex began to appear. He was using the same spell that I had botched the other day. I gave him a rueful smile of my own. "Now make it go away," He said. Nothing else. He just looked at me expectantly. My eyes found his. I imagine I looked a bit lost. I had no idea what to do, he just kept his gaze steady, as if expecting me to handle this like it was nothing. The miniature cyclone began to move towards me. I stepped back a bit, afraid of what would happen if I was caught in it. The dragon was suddenly angry. "Don't run," he growled, "Make. It. Go. Away." With every word his tail lashed the ground, providing an emphasizing crack of scale on stone. I could feel the wind pulling at my fur, and tugging at the cloth wrapped around my waist, the only clothing that either of us ever wore. I closed my eyes, flinching from the circle of wind as it came closer. It was in that darkness, the silence of my own fear, that I heard it. The same whisper, over and over again, like a thought floating in my head. And I wanted it to stop. I told it to stop. And it did. The whispering vanished, and so did the pull of wind over my fur. I peeked open one eye. The cyclone was gone. I looked to the dragon, confused.

"Very good, wolfling. Very good." The dragon smiled warmly at me. I had done it! I wasn't sure how, but I had. I gave a little jump of excitement, my paws punching the air. On an impulse, I ran to the dragon and hugged him. My head only reached his stomach, but I held him tightly. I could feel him stiffen, unused to the contact. I turned my head up at him and grinned. The look of shock finally faded from his face and he rested a large claw on top of my head. He ruffled my headfur again. I leaned against him, the warmth of his scales reminding me of my first night in his den. He hadn't let me be that close to him since. He seemed to edge away from me whenever I got too close. But now he didn't edge away, and he didn't tell me to stop. I just enjoyed the warmth of him, his earthen scent filling my sensitive nose. I didn't usually notice it, but this close to his body it was much stronger. It smelled of fire and stone, but mostly, it smelled like home. That made me sad, for some reason. I felt tears beginning to pool in my eyes. I must have been shaking, because he knelt down then. He turned my head to face him. "Why are you crying, wolfling?" I shook my head and shrugged. I didn't know why. "Come now wolfling, maybe this was too soon." He wrapped a scaled arm around me and lifted me up easily.

I clung to him. His warmth comforted me, it made me feel safe. He carried me to my own little room off the main den. He'd carved it for me when he first found me. I'd often drifted to sleep to the sound of his powerful claws scraping at the stone. But now those claws held me carefully, laying me down on the bed of cloths that he'd gathered for me. I was suddenly very tired, and I felt flush, as if I'd had some of the drink the dragon gave me sometimes, though he wouldn't let me have a full goblet. I looked up at the dragon. His eyes seemed sad, and he seemed to be so much more gentle. Something occurred to me, and I reached for the paper and quill that I kept nearby. The dragon smiled at me, taking the quill from my hand. He walked into the next room, then reappeared a moment with a shimmering feather in his hand. It was one of the enchanted quills from his desk. He handed it to me. He'd never let me use one before, though I knew he'd had them. They never ran out of ink and never needed to be sharpened. I imagined it made writing much less tiresome. I grinned sheepishly as he handed it to me, and then scrawled in my childish writing on the page. 'There's something I want to tell you,' I turned it so he could read. "Then tell me, wolfling." I frowned and scowled. I thought for a moment. 'I do not know the words.' The dragon laughed. He patted me on the head. "It can wait until you've napped. You're practically falling asleep as it is." This irked me. It was something important. I knew it was, but I did not know the words that I wanted to use. The dragon stood from the pile of cloths. He looked back over his shoulder at me, still sitting with the quill in my hand glaring at the page in front of me. "Leave it wolfling. Rest will clear your head." I grabbed for his claw, trying to get him to stay with me. In my rush, I overbalanced. I cartwheeled trying not to fall onto the hard stone below me. My weight must have been just enough to through him off balance.

I finally fell back onto the cloths, the dragon not far behind. I rolled out of the way. He landed with a soft thud in the spot where I had just been. He turned his head to me, and I grinned as wide as I could. He lay there flat on his back, glaring at me. I couldn't help it, it was just too much. I began to laugh, my body shaking silently. The dragon's scowl faded and soon he began to laugh, too. I was glad he wasn't angry with me. He began to sit up, but I pounced on him. I didn't want him to leave. I don't know what obstacle I thought my tiny body was going to present to such a powerful being, but I was going to try. I straddled across his stomach, and he gave me an exasperated look. "This is really bothering you, eh, wolfling?" I nodded. I was still feeling warm and hazy, and I held myself up with my arms because my legs didn't seem to have the strength. There was a strong smell in the air, and it made me feel flush and ticklish, my fur standing on end. He rested a claw on my head, tidying my headfur, combing it gently with his claws. All my breath left me in a rush. Everywhere he touched, warmth spread from, reaching every corner of my body. I nuzzled into his claw, wanting the contact to continue. He sat up, and I slid down his stomach, feeling the muscles beneath his scales tense as he lifted himself from the cloth with his arms wrapped around me.

My legs reached as far around his hips as they'd go, and my arms clung desperately to his chest. I didn't want this to stop. I felt safe and warm, and strangely happy to touch him like this. I noticed something strange then, a firmness against my rump where there should have been none. Curious, I wrapped my tail around it, trying to discern if he was perhaps holding me up with his own tail. As my furred appendage wrapped around the bulge though, I heard the dragon let out a hiss of air. I smiled suddenly. So it worked both ways. I kept moving my tail, though it was hard not to, as happy as I was at that moment. The dragon's head leaned back. And then he looked down at me. "Wolfling, do you even know what you're doing?" I cocked my head. Of course I knew what I was doing. I didn't understand why it worked that way, but I knew it was nice for him to touch me and that it worked the other way, too. I nodded firmly, afraid he may make me stop if I did not. His emerald eyes reflected my golden ones as his gaze found mine. "As long as you know what it is you do..." His sentence faded into a growl as I'd begun to bounce a little with the motion of my tail. The dragon lifted me suddenly, one claw darting down to where my legs rest against his hips. "Let's just get rid of these then, eh?" His sharp talon cut the cloths from around our waists in one deft motion. This confused me, but I didn't mind. The roughspun cloth had begun to rub uncomfortably where it was pressed against me, so I didn't mind. I preferred the feel of his glossy scales against my fur, that odd warmth spreading through me again. He set me back down, and I took the opportunity to look over my shoulder. It was then I realized what I'd been rubbing against. I'd read about it in the library, how reproduction worked. I suddenly understood why it seemed he'd been enjoying this. I felt my face flush again, but this time with the heat of a blush.

I looked at the dragon, my blush surely showing through my fur. "What's the matter, wolfling?" I didn't know how to respond. I couldn't think of the gestures to explain my mistake, and I was fumbling for how to react. "Want some attention yourself, eh? Well, turnabout is fair play, I suppose. May as well make a learning experience out of it." I didn't know how to process what I'd just heard. Thankfully, he didn't give me time to worry about it for long. He leaned down, his body arcing at a surprisingly sharp angle. I looked down, just in time to realize that I was in the same state he was before he'd engulfed my cubhood in his maw. The warmth was amazing, and his long tongue snaked around me, eliciting little gasps from me. I was in shock, I couldn't process all the sensations. I curled around his head, my hips flexing instinctively, making me grind myself forward into him and back against his swollen package. Suddenly, there was a delightful pressure around me. I realized he was beginning to suck on me, like we did the ice crystals which hung from the mouth of the cave in the winter. Suddenly, all my senses whited out. I couldn't think, I couldn't move. Every slightest sensation felt too good, I couldn't take it. He released me then, quivering against him as he sat back up. "Now then, wolfling, I believe it is my turn. Show me what you've learned." I didn't even think about it. I wanted to make him feel that. Show him the same incredible sensation he'd shown me. I turned around, so that I straddled his throbbing phallus rather than his hips. I wasn't sure how to start, there was no way I'd ever get much of it in my muzzle, he was so much larger than I. I wrapped my paws as far around it as they'd go, and pulled it up towards me as best I could. I heard a hiss behind me. Good start. I tried to just jam it into my muzzle, but my dry lips pulled against the firm flesh. I decided it needed some moisture. I began to lick around it, trying to make it easier to work with. My paws pulled it this way and that to give me a better angle. The tip began to leak a little. At first, I tried to avoid the fluid, since it smelled kind of bitter. Then, I caught some in one of my licks, and found that I didn't mind it much. I followed the trail of it down,and licked all the way back to his opening. There was a growl behind me, so I figured I wasn't doing too badly. This time when I tried to put it in my muzzle, it slid in more easily, my muzzle stretching around the first three or four inches. There was still so much of it left, but I was gagging on what was already filling my muzzle. I felt a claw on the back of my head, and I wondered why he was fussing with my hair at a time like this. He twitched against my tongue, and my muzzle was suddenly full of goo. It was like the fluid from before, but stronger tasting and thicker. It just kept coming, and I had no choice but to swallow as much as I could before I drowned on it. I couldn't keep up though, and some leaked out my nose and around the edges of where he entered my muzzle.

The claw was gone, and I pulled back off, coughing and gasping for breath. The dragon was laying back now, his eyes closed and his mouth open slightly. "I'm sorry, wolfling, I got carried away." He opened his eyes, and they were full of sadness. I shook my head. There was no need to apologize. After I'd gotten over the shock, I'd quite enjoyed it, really. I smiled at him. Which probably looked ridiculous, as much of his goo as was leaking from my nose. It would be days before I got the scent out. His claw ruffled my headfur and he smiled back. "Did you find your words, wolfling?" I shook my head. I still didn't know how to phrase it. I crawled up so my head was next to his and lay there next to him, just looking at my own reflection in his shadowy scales. It reminded me of that first night, but this was its opposite. I was safe here, warm, and with the only person in the world that I cared to be with. The words came to me. Without even thinking, I began to open my muzzle, and though I hadn't done it in three summers, it seemed so easy to me then. I spoke:

"I love you."