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After my last missive you may have presumed, incorrectly, that I immediately began an extended campaign of debauchery against my new human apprentice. But I am nothing if not a long-practiced master of self discipline and patience.

Nonetheless, I did insist that the youth use his hands and mouth to service me at least twice a week after enrolling him into the Eridian Mage Academy (Which is not to be confused with Aridean Federation itself, whose pronunciation is irritatingly similar -- some oddity of language, culture, or history I've heard). But by and large I made every attempt to do right by my new ward. At least, that's how things started out.

I tutored him on a daily basis on the fundamental principles of magic, as well as the history of the magi and its most notable members. I challenged him to classic games of tactics and strategy that he seemed to enthused to play. There were even nights, early on, when I invited him to tell me of his past, as well as his hopes for the future -- as much as it bored me to listen to such mundane subject matter.

And so, his determination combined with my expertise and teaching experience allowed him to perform surprisingly well in his freshman classes. He was on his way to becoming a genuine magi.

For three months things continued for him in this manner: days of classes and studying, punctuated by the occasional re-introduction to my dripping dragon shaft. He was still riding too high on his successful petition to become my apprentice to risk making waves or to express discontentment for any alleged hardships he was going through. However, this status quo in our relationship was doomed to be short-lived.

You see, I had not allowed the boy access to his magically detached cock and balls since having untethered them from his body. And, quite predictably, as days became weeks, and weeks dragged on to become months, the lad found it harder and harder to suppress the hormone-fueled libido of his youthful body. Prior to becoming my apprentice, it had been his habit to relieve himself at least once a day. Now, in my care, it had been over fourteen weeks since his last climax. Three months of strictly enforced chastity. Occasionally I would see his hand drift towards the front of his trousers, only for a disappointed look to come over his face as his fingers pressed against frustratingly flat cloth. His senses kept telling him that there was a bulge to be found there... a sensitive shaft to be played with and enjoyed. Yet, try as he might, the human couldn't help but feel his many spontaneous erections gradually wilt away in a most unsatisfying manner.

In truth, I was impressed he lasted as long as he did before finally broaching the subject with me. It was almost endearing, the casual way in which he brought up the prospect of being permitted some private time with his own sexual equipment. I could tell he was trying very hard to pretend that this wasn't a particularly big deal to him either way... that he'd be okay with it if "we" (as though his chastity had been 'our' decision, rather than solely mine) gave him a short break from his unbroken focus to his studies.

As he stood there, looking at me with blue beseeching eyes, I pretended to ponder his request at some length. Of course, I had no intention of granting the youth release while I myself was still having to suffice with mere handjobs and unambitious dick-tip licking.

Turning the situation to my advantage, I explained to the boy that I might be persuaded to permit this breach of propriety so that he could pursue his carnal pleasures, if he met three conditions. When I asked him if he was interested in hearing more, or whether we should resume his alchemy lesson instead, his excited clamoring for the former option confirmed my suspicion that he was already eating out of the palm of my hand.

The three conditions were laid out thusly. One, he must pay proper honor to his Master and mentor by paying homage to my arousal. He would learn to worship me with his throat and tongue. Two, he would need to earn top marks in all of his classes, including acing each and every one of his final exams -- no exceptions. Furthermore, he would face the added challenge of me playing teasingly with his erection for the duration of his exams, as an added test of his focus.Three, should he fail either of the first two conditions, he must agree never to harangue me again with this lewd request, and must trust my wise judgement on the subject of what is best for my apprentice's physical and sexual health.

If I had expected the human to express any trepidation or unease with this one-sided deal, I was quickly proven wrong as the lad practically leaped at the challenge -- once again professing that he wouldn't let me down... that he would make me proud.

There was likely more he wished to say at this juncture, but I immediately set to work on having him fulfill the first of the three conditions.

Retreating to my bed and bidding him to follow, and I undressed, then laid back in the center of the massive cushioned mattress, stretching my legs out into a 'V' pattern and placing my hands behind my head as a makeshift pillow. Most likely, the boy instantly realized that things would be different this time, as I had never had him service me on or around the bed prior to this.

My instructions to the human were deceptively simple: he was not to allow his hands to touch me in anyway. He could use them to move around on the bed or to support his body weight, but they were not to make contact with my body. Nodding somewhat nervously (believing that his much-desired orgasm was on the line), he drew near the bed and waited. Being the intuitive creature I am, I fully understood the reason for his delay.

He was waiting for me to achieve an erection, so that his oral ministrations could begin. It had not occurred to him that he might be required to enflame my initial arousal.

Allowing impatient to color my tone, I inquired, "Were you waiting for something, my apprentice? Or is it that you feel your human tongue is too noble to be sullied inside my slit?"

The expression of embarrassment, shame, and distress that came over his face was exquisite. Spreading my black-scaled legs even further as a visual cue, I pushed my hips slightly into air, as if to offer up my erogenous slit to him.

"Press your saliva-coated tongue deep inside of me, boy. Taste the musky flavors of my insides, and rejoice. Be sure to moan out your enjoyment as your worship my cavity, so that I may feel the vibrations of your contentment transferred through your tongue.Then, attend to coaxing my dragonhood from my sheathe by moving your whetted tongue to and fro, and in and out. Do not be afraid to explore as far inside of me as the length of your oral muscle will allow. And, as you pay proper homage to me, maintain eye contact -- always. I wish to enjoy your expression as you sample my musk for the very first time of what is sure to followed by many such future worship sessions that will begin in this manner."

The boy was more than a little hesitant to 'enjoy' me in the way I had just described to him, but after a few more authoritative words from me, he set himself to the task with the passion and zeal you would expect from someone ordered to clean the rain gutters with their tongue.

As he sluggishly pressed the tip of his tongue in between my sheathe fold, I observed that he was suffering some ridiculous phobia that was preventing him from allowing his lips to press up against my slit's scales. Becoming infuriated with his inhibitions towards a harmless sexual act, I raised my voice to him for the first time and roared, "You have reached the end of my patience, human. Listen to me and listen well: you will press your lips against the entrance to my sheathe and make out with it as though it were the mouth of the prettiest whore in the Federation. You are within a hair's breath of never seeing your precious pink flesh-worm again for the entire duration of your academic career. If you ever again wish to squirt the tiny amount of seed currently stored in your small balls, you will set yourself to worshiping your Master with all the fervor of a cultist. You will look at me when I am speaking to you, boy! Now, pray at the altar of your Master, and prepare yourself to drink generously from his cup of plenty."

Perhaps my overreaction was not entirely warranted, but the results were indisputable. Never before and never since have I experienced a slit pleasuring like I did that day -- the young lad's scared eyes looking out at me from between my legs, with the bottom portion of his face mostly obscured as he pressed himself against my crotch. The sheer erotic bliss brought forth by his frantic tongue lashing cemented my plan to have this be a regular part of our foreplay.

Indeed, on countless occasions since then I have had him press his mouth against the entrance of my sheath and use his talented tongue to coax out my meat. I especially enjoy engaging in a kind of a battle of wills with him -- one where I attempt to suppress my own arousal to draw out the experience as long as possible, while he on other hand assaults my fold with thrusts and lashings of his tongue to bring forth the entirety of my length as quickly as possible. Often times he wins, forcing me to full arousal in under a minute, but there are occasions when my mental discipline allows him to worship my slit for over an hour.

There was even one such battle that went on so long that I had no choice but to relieve my bladder. Thankfully his discipline held as I slowly relieved myself into his stomach -- his mouth and throat acting as a funnel for my acrid tasting fluids. Sighing in relief as the pains of my over-pressurized bladder abated, I continued to eliminate while softly stroking his brown hair. He had a peculiar look in his eyes as he gulped mouthful after mouthful of my piss down that to this day I've not been able to decipher. The visage wasn't shame, nor was it disgust. I've seen both of those expressions on my apprentice enough to spot them with ease. I'd like to think that it was perhaps some blend of resignation and pride in full and proper service, but truthfully I cannot say.

Getting back to the first time he paid homage to me in this way, I remember it taking around five or ten minutes of his attentions before my shaft made its appearance. This time, he proved clever enough to seamlessly transition into fellating my cock's head as the rest of my arousal pushed out from between my slit. Wisely, he chose to maintain eye contact with me as he suckled upon my tip.

"Much better, human. Your efforts have been rewarded. Drink upon my pre-seed for a moment or two and rest. When you are ready, focus your efforts on allowing your throat to become a receptacle for my breeding shaft. Much like the female snatches of my kind, your throat should permit access to every inch that I wish to press into you... and it is my wish that your mouth and throat welcome the full length of my cock. As your tongue plays over the end of my prick and soaks in my pre, I want you to engage in a mental relaxation exercise where you consider your gullet in the context of a series of words I will provide you. Consider well how they might apply to your throat. The words are as follows: Open... Welcoming... Durable... Wide... Feminine... Honored... Hungry... Ready... Stretchable... Lubricated... Humbled... Defenseless... Deep... Patient... Willing... Compliant... Snatch-like... Obedient... Warm... Fortunate... Wet... Owned... Mastered...."

For the next several minutes the human occupied himself with only the end of my erection as I repeated this series of words to him over and over. At this point I was tempted to use a minor charm to put him into a dazed state and ease my passage, but instead I opted to do things the natural way. I'm sure you'll agree that you get but only a single go at a virgin throat.

You might be wondering why at this point I did not gag or restrain the apprentice. To answer your unspoken query, I would say that I did not want to give him the impression that I had even the slightest fear of him. I was also confident that I could easily overpower him should he engage in open rebellion against my intention to use his mouth. As for him biting me -- well, if you were well read in draconian biology, you would know that female dragons' breeding cavities have evolved to produce enormous pressure, which ensures that they are bred by only the strongest and most worthy males. In turn, over many generations male dragons' cocks have become, counter-intuitively, one of the strongest parts of our bodies.

A quick trip to the library and an examination of the information available on the maximum pounds per square inch producible by the male human jaw allowed me assure myself that he would be unable to harm me with his teeth. Even if he bit down as hard as he could with the express intention of harming me he simply would be incapable of generating the pressure needed to do any real damage.

And so, his first deep-throating session proceeded exactly I had imagined it would: with a great deal of gagging, wheezing, coughing, and tearing up. To say that 'the pleasure was all mine' would be an understatement. Though I enjoyed myself a great deal, there was simply no way to avoid him having to spend long stretches of time panicking about being deprived of life sustaining oxygen. This is an unavoidable part of teaching someone (whether furred or furless) how to properly deep throat a draconian shaft.

I know that there are many people in the world, my fellow magi among them, that would accuse me of perversion and cruelty for taking sexual pleasure at the expense of a youth placed in my care and safe keeping. But it would be an injustice to paint me in such black and white colors. Did I find immense sexual gratification while forcing his furless face to press against my lower abdomen? Yes. Was he feeling acute discomfort as I pressed myself into the virgin territory of his throat? Certainly. But it would be mischaracterizing the situation to say that I was taking joy in his pain.

The more nuanced truth is, I was taking joy despite his pain. You see? There is a significant difference between these two concepts. That said, there was a degree of pride I felt knowing that I was so generously blessed in size that a human couldn't help but feel discomforted while trying to accommodate me. But this reaction of mine is only natural, is it not? What man doesn't like to be told that he is packing impressive equipment. Well, the boy was doing precisely that, with his coughing and gagging. He was paying me the compliment of implicitly stating, "Right now, I value your pleasure above my own, and so I will press through this discomfort as I welcome your impressive girth past my lips and down my throat."

In return, I paid him the compliment of withdrawing upon arriving at my climax, so that the head of my cock rested just past the threshold of his lips. This allowed him to gauge the full extent of my larger than average load, as I flooded my seed into his mouth and over his tongue. He could now savor the taste of his Master's cream, which any servant will tell you is as precious as it is delicious.

This is not to imply that my orgasm came quickly, however. Deflowering the virgin throat of my apprentice was a once in a lifetime experience, and so I held back my impending climax for well over two hours, staving it off mostly by frequently changing positions with the human. For example, at one point I had laid him down on the bed with his back pressing into the mattress and his head hung off the edge of the bedding. This provided me an unparalleled angle for pressing my shaft into his face, unimpeded by the normal curvature of his throat. I also had him sit on the floor, with his back and head against the wall, so as to circumvent his body's instinctive reaction to pull away from the unpleasant bludgeon pushing its way into his tender throat.

It goes without saying that, at times, he was unable to prevent himself from attempting to use his arms and hands to fight me off. I saw no need to punish or berate him for such a natural reaction. Rather, I simply ignored his feeble attempts to resist me. I even took some additional fun from his antics, allowing him to push me away so that he could catch a single breath, only to in turn thrust myself back in, at which point this pattern repeated itself time and time again.

Perhaps you think me unnecessarily rough or cruel? Or believe that I was indifferent to his mental or emotional state? This could not be further from the truth.

For the full two hours plus of cock-to-mouth pairing I showered compliments and encouragement down upon him. If anything, I was overly effusive in my praise, letting him know how well he was doing... what a good apprentice he was being, and how his throat was even better than the snatch of a female dragon. Near the end, I even told him that his mouth was worthy of being inseminated by dragon seed. What higher compliment could one man give to another?

Finally, when my full satisfaction had been achieved and I had made him thank me for the lesson, I did what any responsible teacher would do. I immediately picked up where we had left off on his alchemy studies. I knew that he was tired and had not eaten dinner yet, but I reasoned that the large load I had deposited in his stomach would hold him over for at least the hour or two we would need to wrap up the chapter introducing plant-based potions.

So you see, I was always mindful about not letting my own needs take precedence over his studies.

Should you need further proof of my competency as a professor and mentor, I'll divulge that two months later his class summary report notified me that he had earned the highest marks in all of his classes -- my excellent tutelage shining through despite my efforts to distract him during finals week.

By my reckoning, at this point in time it had been almost five months since I had separated him from his sexual apparatus, and prevented his capacity for self-pleasuring and obtaining release. I, on the other hand, had increased the rate of our non-academic encounters such that he was doing away with at least two batches of dragon seed each and every day. I say 'doing away with' instead of merely 'swallowing' since it had become my habit to at times spray my seed here and there-about, rather than depositing it directly into his mouth or throat.

I found it pleased me to see him get on his hands and knees and gradually lick my essence off the floor or the wall. At first, this new habit of mine started off simple and straightforward. I would be sure to cup my hand and directed him to point the tip of my length towards it. Afterwards, he would be required to lap the seed out of my palm. Later I began adjusting my own aim, oftentimes at the floor -- especially if I noticed a dirty patch that he had failed to keep appropriately clean. Then he would be made to lick up both messes -- mine and the one he had failed to clean prior. At this point, the floor tended to be quite spotless, as the lad routinely put in the elbow grease to clean every square inch of my quarter's flooring.

This eventually evolved into a game we would play where I would wag my arousal about dramatically throughout my climax. The inevitable result of this would be that my copious seed was strewn all about the room -- every drop of which he was beholden to lap up with his tongue, no matter where or how far the fluids landed. This was cause for a few peculiar sights; one being the lad having to fetch a ladder so that he could stretch to reach the ceiling with the very end of his tongue, as he stood upon his tip-toes. If memory serves, I sat in my easy chair pretending to read a book, while enjoying watching him lap at the ceiling of my residency out of the corner of my eye.

Ahh, but I seem to have gotten off track. Yes yes, his grades.

It is true that he won our little challenge. This surprised me greatly as I was sure that days of me edging his sensitive human rod while he was testing would have disrupted his concentration sufficiently to hurt his averages in at least one of his classes. It been a substantial amount of time since those external bollocks were allowed to squeeze out their payload.

Retiring to the secret chamber where I had hidden his detached length (along other treasures that I felt particularly precious to me), I began by casting a spell that forced the lad to empty out the contents of his bladder. As he was a substantial distance away from me, he would have no ability to warn me that he needed to piss, and I had no desire to allow his urine to dirty my robes... or worse, my tongue. Next, I placed two small runes onto the boy's privates -- one on either side of his scrotum. While active, they would prevent him from achieving climax no matter how closely my attentions pushed him to the threshold.

Preparations complete, I undertook my task. I spent the next several hours playing with his pink flesh. Stroking it... licking it.... gently nibbling at it. I found the act unexpectedly arousing. Soon I had undressed myself and had began pleasuring my own alongside that of my apprentice's. I then took his twitching length and pressed it against my own, at which point I humped my shaft's firm ridges up and down his weak, tender flesh. Initially I was unable to tell which sensations he found pleasurable and which he found too firm or abrasive, and so I kept my changing up the game. It became a fresh puzzle for me to enjoy solving: what stimuli resulted in making the most twitching and precum?

At times, I used only my tongue. At other points, I used only my hands: kneading, stroking, pulling, petting. I found his sack to be especially fascinating. Since my own testicles are hidden within my body, it struck me as exotic and enticing that his seed producers would be so deliciously exposed and vulnerable. I took the soft things in hand, and began slowly squeezing them. I was surprised as to the degree to which I could compress them, as each time I released them they quickly returned to their initial shape.

After a few minutes of this, however, I noticed that the youth's shaft had gone from hard and dripping to completely flaccid. I hypothesized that the lad's scrotum was not a particularly sensitive erogenous zone, and focusing on it exclusively had allowed the shaft to return to its dormant state. From that point, I made sure to give more or less equal attention to all portions of the human's sexual equipment.

Hours later, I could tell that my efforts had had an effect when my apprentice came home after his first day of testing (and likewise, the first day of merciless sexual edging, as performed by me in my secret chamber). He attempted to renege on the deal by throwing out every manner of rhetorical device and emotional manipulation.

He told me how unfair it was... how desperately he needed release. The boy told me I was cruel and questioned my professionalism. He also did a fair bit of fretting about what the consequences would be should he end up on the losing end of the challenge, now that he understood how hard and compromising the academies semester finals were going to be.

I did my best to calm him, but he didn't seem to like my responses to his inquiry of what should happen if he lost the challenge. I believe I told him simply: a deal is a deal. So now, as you read this letter, I'm sure you are curious yourself. If the hypothetical situation of him scoring less than perfect marks in his classes would have come about, would I have held him to his promise to never again bother me with his sad mewling requests for sexual release?

Well, I can say with complete confidence that, yes, had I won the challenge I would have of course insisted that he cease needling me with amateur self-diagnoses regarding his supposed need to achieve climax. If pushed, I would have enforced his compliance to our agreement with a spell that prevented him from utilizing his tongue to speak on the subject.

And now that you know how strictly I would have held his feet to the fire for losing the challenge, I'm sure you that in turn you'll arrive at the conclusion that I must have held myself to an equally high standard. He did win the challenge after all, so you'll likely make the leap of faith that I had to have granted him his reward -- the release for which he had risked so much and struggled so hard for.

Well, I am a little embarrassed to admit that, no, I did not.

Furious at myself for being unable to distract a single horny youth who had not climaxed in nearly half a year, and furious at him for having defied my expectations... I fudged a bit. Yes, it is true that in the end, it was I who reneged on our deal.

No... reneged is too harsh a word. I... 'modified' our deal. It's really not as bad as it sounds. In the end, my apprentice did not even realize he had been slighted. So, if he himself did not know and did not consider himself to be a victim, who is to say that he was in any way victimized? Logically, that does not quite follow. But since he did win the challenge, I in turn made sure he was well rewarded. Yes, true, the prize was not what we had initially agreed upon, but in many ways it was much more valuable that a simple, ephemeral ejaculation.

From a perspective of usefulness, utility, and gold value, I would argue that I greatly improved the scope of his reward for beating the challenge. And just what did his continued chastity buy him? A mastercraft spellbook, of all things! Can you imagine that! What freshman student has his own, personal spellbook -- let alone one that is mastercrafted. Even the richest nobles don't buy their own flesh and blood, spoiled children that they are, spellbooks until after they become full fledged magi. And the vast majority of those spellbooks are well-used hand-me downs... pages frayed and stained, bindings loose and spine cracked.

Now do you see the depths of my generosity? A climax is worthless, in the grand scheme of things. It is but a moment of pleasure in the stream of consciousness we call life. But the mastercrafted spellbook that I gifted my apprentice with for his perfect marks... that has a set, market value. A value of over two thousand gold pieces! Can you conceive of such a thing?

So, no, do not allow yourself to feel even a moment of pity for my apprentice, whom I have gratuitously spoiled with my kindness.

But, all things considered, it's likely that you'd wish to know how he reacted to what some might slanderously describe as a bait and switch tactic. Well, I unabashedly tell you that he had no adverse reaction, because he was not aware that any such switch had been made.

Yes, you read that right. I decided that it would be in the child's best interest if he did not remember the specifics of the original understanding. Arriving at this decision, I waited until the lad had fallen asleep before using an artifact I borrowed from the Vault of Legends to tamper with his memories. My elevated rank permits me to temporarily check-out items of great power from the vault for purposes of scientific study and examination.

Using this on-loan ensorcelled artifact, I made a simple and harmless adjustment to the human's mind, so that his recollection of our original deal was that he might earn for himself a simple, used spellbook.

And believe you me, if you had the slightest suspicion the he might be some sort of victim in all this, if you'd only have seen his reaction when I gave him the brand new high-quality tome, you would also know that I made the right call. His enthusiasm was as peerless as his gratitude was boundless. He was happier yet still when I told him that, now that finals were over, there was no further need to tease his anxious, dripping arousal, and that we could get back to focusing on more important matters. He was genuinely pleased to hear that he wouldn't have to spend any additional hours being edged by my long tongue and scaled hands.

Though, perhaps predictably, later that night he did politely inquire as to whether or not he might be allowed to be reunited with his missing bits now that nearly every student all the following month off due to the impending summer break. I chuckled and waved him off, saying that we had a very busy summer of gathering reagents, cleaning equipment, and engaging in specialized training for him look forward to. I explained to him that we'd be far too busy for him to have time to use play with himself, and that it was far better that it should continue to remain safe and protected in my custody.

Seeing from his expression that he was already forming a counter-argument, I pre-emptively stifled any further comments that the boy might make by finding something more productive for his mouth to do. Perhaps the human thought it terribly unfair that the reason we didn't have time to discuss his own needs was because we were too busy satisfying my own, but what is there to say in response to that? It is an important lesson that all adolescents must one day learn: life is not always fair.

As I pushed his head down all the way to the base of my erecting shaft, his practicing paid off as he managed to suppress yet another gag. Kneeling down, he looked up at me (just as he knew I liked), and I warmly said to him, "Boy, you are making your Master very proud of you. Your coursework... your dedication... your obedience. They are all paying off, and you are well on your way to becoming a magi. And to think, you even already have your very own spellbook. Tell me... are you grateful for all that your kind Master has done for you?"

Looking back down at him, both hands gripping the back of his mostly furless head, he made his gratitude known to me -- by pressing his tongue under the base of my cock and past the lips of my slit as he continued to deep-throat me.

It was at that moment that I knew for sure that I had made the right decision. That you yourself might have made different decisions had you been in my place matters not. This is what being a magi means. Making hard choices... and living with the consequences.

Yours in the pursuit of knowledge, Bradshaw Ebonhide, Magi Adeptus -- Fifth Rank