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So many of my favorite stories involve dealings with powerful, otherworldly beings. Or dealing with having power and being alienated for it. It's a theme in some of my favorite tales and characters. And yet, I always felt frustrated in how those characters explored, exploited or outright rejected said power.

So, as with any story, if you want to read it, you must write it yourself. I wrote a similar story, only with the genders flipped some number of years ago. I think if this one gets a warm reception, I might dredge it up and give it some polish for your pleasurable purview, gentle readers.

And with that in mind, I present such a story with my own twisted taste.

Dolor Decanted

He found it near an unmarked grave under a tree in an old grain silo. He did not think much of why he took it, only that he felt it wanted to be taken. That it was meant to be taken. And that he was the one meant to take it. The next day, he broke a girl's leg and ankle in five places.

It all happened so fast. She had laughed in his face. And he could still not understand why. She had come to him. The lying little bitch had come onto him, pretending to flirt and build him up only to break him down and spit flat rejection into his face. In retrospect it was obvious she was making fun of him. Then as she was walking away down some stairs he reached out with something. He had not meant to do anything. It was easy too.

And by god it felt good. It felt good to hurt the girl. To watch her leg twist and hear the dry crack of her bones and listen to the pure tone of pain. A sickening swell of pride had risen in his chest to see her leg actually bulge and contort before she went down the stairs. The rush was like a hit of liquid ecstasy. His body sang with the music of unfiltered affliction. He had run quickly from the scene. Fortunately for him there were many witnesses who simply saw the girl trip and fall down a flight of stairs. Regardless, he had made good speed from the site.

Something was in him now. Something risen. He could feel it bubbling in his chest. It was a violent urge. He wanted reason to give pain. No, that was not it. He wanted reason so that he could justify giving pain. A slimy eel coiled through his chest and gut, spitting and scrabbling to get out. It was not hard to figure out what the monster in him fed on. Agony was its meat. Its liquor. Like a loaded gun the boy knew it was would take only one mistake to blow up in his face.

The next day as he walked through school he felt his power trying to reach out. Even though he only had the most basic understanding of this unholy thing slithering under his skin, he knew it wanted to hurt people. The boy refused to believe that it had been something in him before. As though some twisted heathen god had reached down and left its cursed mark upon him, every time he resisted the call to pain, his own got worse. In just a few days the power had saturated him to the core. It infused his bones and muscles with ache and constricted his blood vessels. Calling to him on a primal and instinctual level, it was hunger and thirst all at once.

Almost nothing could take his mind off it. He tried binge eating. Masturbating chronically. Even diving into a bottle of wine. Sometimes it would work for a short while, yet the urges always grew stronger. As the power developed and sharpened, he could not only determine what kind of pain he craved, but also the best way to inflict it and who best to inflict it on. Lurching and stumbling through the day, the pinch of need made his eyes water and his knees weak. Soon he was fantasizing about satisfying the great serpent every spare moment. It smothered all other thoughts.

He did not believe in hurting others. In all honesty, the boy was a self-proclaimed pacifist and vegetarian. He did not believe in harming another living creature. He had always slid by mostly unnoticed before. Flown under the radar as an unknown force though sometimes mocked for his beliefs. As such, with his rather insular personality, he had no real friends. No one he could talk to. No one to lean on.

Just as his fearful world closed in around him, she appeared. When the boy first saw her, he thought she was a hallucination. It happened when he was walking in to school. She was standing off to the side of the front doors as though she was just another face in the crowd. He was so sure she was not real because no one else besides him seemed to notice her.

The best way he could think to describe her, was a dragon-lady. Her skin was as pale as the moon. She wore a white halter-top dress that stopped above her knees cut so low her very large breasts were only just contained within it. Like a deep mulberry wine, her hair cascaded down in long waves. A pair of braids hung elegantly down her back. She had no horns, but long soft white ears sprouted up through her tresses. Her long, slim muzzle seemed to have a smile teasing the corners of her mouth. The dress and the way she stood were so natural he did not know what to make of it. Her smooth tail waved very slowly and her leathery wings were at a ready-rest position. A gentle smattering of scales covered her forearms, calves, and ran down her sternum to her navel like snowdrops. She was so familiar, yet exotic. Her arms were behind her back as she had her eyes closed to enjoy the cool breeze and bright sun.

When she looked his way, his heart seized in terror. Because for all her gentleness with buxom chest, slim waste, and wide, padded hips, there was one thing that made her singularly horrifying. For her eyes were black as onyx with a cornea like wet blood and a slit-pupil running through that. When she looked at him, the boy's books slipped from nerveless fingers. They fell to the concrete with dull thumps yet he hardly noticed. He was returned somewhat to his senses when he was jostled by the passing crowd. The boy bent down, picked up his books, and expected the apparition to have disappeared when he broke line of sight. When he retrieved his textbooks and looked back up however, she was still there. Behind scholarly glasses, she regarded him with a smile and waved playfully.

Shuddering, he once again moved with the flow. She followed him to class and he did his best to ignore her. The dragon-lady in the dress walked around the classrooms, examining the other teenagers and the teachers. No one ever reacted to her. Most disturbing of all was when she sat next to him and just stared with a wide smile. He had not an iota of mind for his lectures. Unable to comprehend a single word spoken to him. Finally, the tension became too much for the boy.

Obviously he could not speak aloud to her, lest he sound like a madman. So he did the next best thing and did what any student would do if they wanted to communicate silently. As surreptitiously as he could, he waved the dragon-lady over. She had been walking behind the teacher busy writing equations on the board. All too eagerly she came trotting to the boy.

Are you real? What are you? He had jotted down in the corner of his open notebook.

The dragon-lady leaned right over his shoulder to read the note. Though he was still waiting for her to try and take a bite out of him, like any red-blooded male he could not go without noticing that her tits were on the verge of popping out of her dress. The large globes were perky and very round. Quite clearly she was not wearing any kind of support and the folds of fabric only just covered her tits.

He found her inexplicably attractive, despite the wings and tail. It was just those eyes. They unnerved him so. She grasped his shoulders and he tensed. He could feel it! Feel her. Either he was really crazy, or she was real and only he could see her. She rubbed his shoulders gently and spoke huskily into his ear. The boy could feel her breath on his neck as she whispered. With her proximity, he could detect the hint of an alluring perfume. It reminded him of honeysuckle and blood. When she spoke though, he was chilled to the bone.

"Who am I? Is that what you're asking? I'll tell you. Oh yes dear, yes, it would be my pleasure. I am the whisper in the cracks between your thoughts. I am every unrequited desire. Every secret darkened impulse. You have been awakened. Your power has risen. And now I have come to you. I'm your power and your reason. Your dreams. Your secret hopes. The things you dare not whisper too loud because you're afraid someone might overhear. But more than anything, I am the tiny voice that's been inside you all along, urging you to be more. Be greater. Telling you to get up each time you get knocked down."

Her voice was so gentle. Hypnotic and seductive. She let go of his shoulders. Then she walked around the front of his desk. She lifted the hem of her dress and kneeled down so she could be at eye-level. "You can call me Nihila. Or Nihil. I prefer either." She smiled with a delighted flick of her tail. The boy's face screwed up in confusion and he started to blurt something when he remembered he was sitting in the middle of class. She laughed in amusement at his consternation.

"And don't worry. I already know your name. Marshall." Fright prickled his spine. "I'm sure you have many questions. But that's okay. I love teaching." Nihila swayed her hips and shuffled her wings as she smiled for the boy. "Your power is fed by pain. You can feel it, can't you? The ones around you... They're no longer your fellows. They are now your prey. They are now your food. Which means you are not fully human anymore."

I refuse to accept that. He wrote.

"Accept it or not, it is the truth. You cannot deny it anymore than the air you breathe. You must realize you are now peerless. More than just human. Not less. Possessed of something greater." Nihila stood and walked two places forward and one to the right. She pointed to the rather dimwitted fellow who sat there.

"Look at this one. See how he flounders. Look at how blindly uncomprehending he is. It's because he is less. Stupid. Unfit. That's why he fits in. He is of the majority. Forget cliques and all the foolish names they go by. They are just part of a pitiful cavalcade of mediocrity. The exceptional, skilled and fierce. Those are the ones that stand out. And the bulls shall kick the lion to death. The crows shall swamp the hawk. For they are predators and animals can sense when there is something deadly amidst them."

Nihila walked back and laid a hand on Marshall's desk. "You're better than all of them. And that's okay. It's all okay. It's alright to be better than them. Alright to be more. That's just what it is. Don't think of them being smaller because of it. Think of yourself as transcendent. That's what gives you the right to feed on their pain." And before she left, the mad apparition gave him a warning.

"You also need to beware, love. When your fellows start to sense your change, if you're timid, they will turn on you."

In that premonition, she was right on point. When he left class, shaken and unsure, he experienced it in stares and subtle attitudes. At a base level he could not quite grasp, everyone around him was acting stranger. He believed himself peaceful and kind. With the way he felt under attack, vulnerable, he struggled with the urge to lash out. He did not believe it was the answer. But there was a whisper at the back of his mind. An insidious mummer. When he looked around, he saw Nihila sitting at the top of a staircase. Even though they did not react to her, the student body parted around the black-eyed dragoness. He flinched away from her gaze.

"Be still, my love. It's all okay. It's okay to hurt them. They cannot have your power so they seek to try and make you not exercise it. Repress it. If they make you believe you have no power, then they need not fear you." Not even the dull roar of the crowd could drown out her words. She stood and made her way down the stairs, students continuing to part around her. "But they should fear you. You have power beyond them. A wolf among the sheep." He stood frozen, bodies flowing around him when Nihila cupped his cheeks in her palms. She stared deeply into his eyes before giving him a light kiss right on the lips. With a trailing hand down his neck and across his collarbone, she walked away.

***

Over the next few days, things only got worse. The urges were getting more intense.

There were times he imagined it was Nihila talking for the voice of his the hunger. Though she never appeared he always looked. Marshall bent his will against it. He refused to hurt people. The more he denied it the more it turned on him, gnawing at his resolve. He could not give in to the terrible gift. But he wanted to. He wanted to so badly. Like a junkie waiting for his next fix, it was all he could think of. Using that power. Indulging. Binging like a madman. Craving the smallest hit.

The boy bit his lip to try and shut out the many voices screaming in his head to rip out throats and yell for the madness of it all. He needed something to take his mind off it. Marshall looked forward to lunch more and more. Pleasures of the flesh had proven to distract him. It provided momentary respite from the non-stop nagging. Marshall had slowly slid into a forgotten corner of the cafeteria. More and more he found himself as an unwanted presence. A small part of him was relieved. Isolated, he was removed from temptation. With a deep breath, Marshall opened his lunch pack.

"Honey, how sad a meal. Don't tell me your mother packed that for you?" Nihil pulled up a seat across from Marshall wearing her white halter-top. She looked on in pity as Marshall set out what amounted to cold rice and beans.

"Go away, Nihila." Even though it was only his second time seeing the dragoness, it was still two times too many. He shoveled a spoonful spitefully into his mouth and tasted nearly nothing from the canned red beans atop overcooked rice. Little more than starchy mush at that point really. There was no one close enough to hear him over the din of the hundreds of teenagers socializing over their meals. It felt good to tell off... Well, whatever Nihila was, tactile hallucination or corporeal manifestation of his insanity.

"Wait, don't tell me. I already know. Your family isn't very conducive to your lifestyle choices. They don't shop to support your voluntary dietary omissions." It was then that Marshall began to smell something intoxicating. The teen saw Nihila had a tray covered in tinfoil yet tried not to consider what was under it.

"I'm not even going to ask how you know that. I probably wouldn't like the answer."

She tittered in pleasure and clapped her hands.

"Now you're starting to get it! Shall I reify your true desires? I went to the back and grabbed a prime cut of rib-eye. I think one of the lunch ladies was going to have it for herself later."

"No. No, I'm a vegetarian. I don't believe in eating meat."

Nihila responded to his denial by uncovering her platter topped high with medium rare red meat. It was fan cut and laid out with its seared outside and delicate insides on colorful display. As the smell assaulted him, the bite of rice and beans turned to ash in his mouth. His breathing became labored and his pulse quickened. Marshall watched a droplet of red juice drip down the side of a flawless slice.

"It's such a simple thing. Nice cast iron skillet. Oven at five-hundred. Set it on the range for five minutes then give it a nice sea salt and light pepper rub. From there it's just a thirty-second sear and two minutes in the oven. It's that quick, high heat cooking that gives you a perfect flavor seal."

Nihila knew Marshall far better than he knew himself and the first step she took was not by offering the meat but in taking the fat slice he had been eying and plopping it in her mouth. She moaned as she chewed, then licked the juices off her fingers.

"I'm not doing this to torment you, Marshall. I have nothing against you being a vegetarian, but if you insist on learning things the hard way, I have no choice but to ease you into it as best I can. The meat will help. It'll substitute pain to a degree. Not much though." Nihila took another slice for herself before pushing it in front of Marshall. The teen obviously hesitated, however the agony of denying his power overcame his morals. The promise of even an ounce off the weight of his burden was worth eating a few bits of meat. Though it killed a small part of him to do so.

The teen took a bite and hated himself even more when he absolutely loved it. Flavor positively exploded across his senses. He could feel the thick, rare juices running down his tongue. Perfectly seasoned and seared, Marshall experienced the rib-eye from tender center to spice crusted outer skin. The boy wolfed down piece after piece until the edge of his more sadistic appetite was taken back a notch.

"You still don't understand the full scope of your power, do you? Oh, my darling, you have nothing to fear. I'm going to be right beside you every step of the way. You must realize that what you're experiencing is like a fundamental force. It is the bond between atoms, the play of nuclear fire in the sun. It is something that has existed for so long and been within you since you were born. You have so much power, sweetie. So much potential. When I touch you I quiver. I know you can do so much that no one else can."

Marshall regarded Nihila with fear and not a little anger. He cared not a whit for her flatery and just wanted answers.

"Who are you, really?"

"Maybe I'm the fragment of your unhinged mind. Maybe I'm the spark of magic. The source of the power you try to deny. Maybe you've just been turned into a demon and I'm a sexy familiar here to seduce you. Are my looks based on the scope of your power or of your desire for it? Am I not intoxicating?"

"Nihila," Marshall rumbled in irritation. He was definitely not in the mood to play games. "That wasn't what I asked. Not really."

The dragon-lady adjusted her glasses and nodded.

"You're right. If I'm completely honest I'm not even wholly sure where I came from." Before Marshall could protest her evading the question she raised a hand to halt him. "Though I do have a few small theories. Maybe, your power is so vast, it invited a being from outside. Then, your power subsumed the being and copied itself onto the template. I am at once a part, and not a part from you. Like a piece was broken off and took the entity over to better serve you. Maybe that's why I can sustain you. But regardless of that, I am here to support you. Without judgment or condition." She tilted her head as if considering another prospect.

"Or, it's possible I'm a more literal incarnation of your power. Perhaps a manifestation of your rejection. Or even something other entirely. Something else that you drew forth. The reason you find yourself in such sickly turmoil is because power wants to be used. Wants to be called forth. Powerful beings want to be asked for their favor."

Marshall hung his head and felt nauseated. He did not want any of this. The teen just wanted to crawl into his bed and pretend that when he woke up everything would be back to normal again. Nihila crawled up onto the table and sat on the edge right next to the distressed boy.

"There's something else that'll take the edge off as well, you know?" Nihila stretched and planted her bare feet on the seats on either side of Marshall. The boy quickly flushed with embarrassment. She grabbed his hand and guided it up her inner thigh. Just as his fingers traced her warm mound, he jerked his arm from her grasp, cheeks burning.

"Humph!" Nihila tossed her head and got off the table. "You're going to wish you had done that later on, young man." She said with melodious mischief in her voice.

***

Right after lunch, Marshall had to go to his double-period social studies course. Nihila was waiting for him. The moment he had taken a seat and the class bell rang she leaned over his desk.

"Remember, no one but you can see me. Shall I put on a little show for you, my love?" She got very close and whispered in his ear. "Did you know I hate wearing panties?" Then she gently nibbled on his ear and blew hot air across the back of his neck. With a giggle she sauntered forward and rested her rear against the teacher's desk. The lovely dragon-lady ran her hands up her sides and slid underneath the front of her dress to fondle her breasts beneath the fabric. She pulled the straps to the side and her tits bounced free.

The teen's manhood twitched when he saw the double-d mammaries full on for the first time. Her nipples and areola were the loveliest light flamingo pink against her snow white skin. They looked so soft and full the boy could imagine them in his palm. As much as he was mortified at the erotic display and morally objected he could not muster the drive to look away. Just like she had promised the striptease took the edge off his power working his nerves with a hacksaw.

Nihil sat her haunches up onto the teacher's desk. The top of her dress bunched around her waist and she slowly pulled up the hem. Nihila kept her legs closed though. When she had pulled the soft cotton all the way up she spread her knees wide, giving the boy a straight on view of lovely pussy. Nihila's anatomy was completely exposed. Her vulva was perfect. There was the lightest rosy pink around her pale white lower lips and her slit glistened with a single flawless dewdrop of wetness. She reached down and parted the petals of her pussy with her fingers. The boy could imagine how tight Nihila was by the fact that even spread eagle her cunt had stayed pursed.

Then the show really started. Marshall already felt as though his granite cock might rip his pants. But he was helpless to do anything to relieve himself, surrounded by classmates. Nihila used two fingers to pull back the hood hiding her clit and exposed the pink bundle of nerves. She squeezed her love button and arched her back. She made sure to continue to spread her petals to give Marshall the best possible view. In moments, her pussy was leaking a steady stream of wetness down the desk. Perhaps she did get a little carried away as her fingers started working furiously at her clit. The dragoness moaned throatily in pleasure.

She loved teasing the boy so much she set her legs up on the desk and laid back to better enjoy herself. Bucking her rear up, she wanted something inside her. With the fingers she had been using to rub one out, she slid them down into her slippery vent. Marshall watched his madness incarnated plunge her fingers into herself. For several minutes she pumped her digits in and out, occasionally raising her hips into the thrusting to better enjoy it, grinding her fingertips hard into her g-spot. Marshall could hear the wet sounds Nihila's finger fucking made.

"Ah! I'm cumming!" She cried, lifting her hips and holding her two fingers in tightly as she orgasmed. Twitching and panting in climax, Marshall could actually see girl-cum squirt around Nihila's fingers. When she was done masturbating on the teacher's desk, she replaced her dress and sighed happily as she sauntered up to Marshall. She leaned down and giggled as she held up her right hand, strings of her cum hanging between her fingers.

"Hey, pretend like you're yawning." She instructed. Mind blank except for how hard his cock was, Marshall foolishly complied. To top off her torment, she took her naughtily soaked digits and slid them into his open mouth. Before he could react she had spread her juices all across his tongue and throughout his palette. When the flavor hit him, Marshall felt like he might cream his pants right then and there and clamped his mouth shut. She reached beneath her dress for some fresh pussy-juice and smeared it under his nose so that it was all he could smell.

"There you go, Marshall. Have fun with with that. I'll leave you to your thoughts."

***

The next day at lunch, he was less than pleased. Without success, he tried to tune out Nihila and her tray of brisket. Dressed that day in a white tank top filled to bursting and short shorts, the anthro dragoness seemed perfectly content. She was reading a book that Marshall had not bothered to identify while she picked choice morsels from the platter between them and made casual suggestions for targets to use his power on. He had forgotten to pack a lunch and sat stewing in his aggravation.

His thoughts were elsewhere. While splashing some water on his face in the bathroom, Marshall had gotten a look at himself. Sunken eyes stared back through lanky strands of unwashed hair that hung over cheeks drawn gaunt through hunger and sleep deprivation. Nuisances of the flesh had taken a back seat as his power had grown in both scope and need. So he sat in the cafeteria, nurturing his wispy thoughts with a frown and ripped patience.

"Oh, look at that one. Can't you imagine severing his achilles? No, hamstings! A ligament here or there wouldn't hurt. What about her? I love doing it to girls, they're so much more expressive than boys."

"Is torture all you think about, Nihila?" Marshall slammed his fist down on the table. Nihila's almost non-stop pushiness was wearing through his already twitchy nerves.

"No, but agitating you is doing a wonderful job of making the other, lesser boys and girls start to fear you properly." Nihila replied without looking up from her book. Marshall glanced around and saw that his outburst had not gone unnoticed. Before though, he would have been met with stares of derision and contempt. Now though, with his mood fouler than a tempest hitting land, few would actually look for more than a second.

"Really though, you need to start thinking about developing your power. I know you've been playing with the shape of it, but without fuel, you'll get nowhere. There are so many novice mistakes that are made at this stage of manifestation. You need to consider what causes the most pain but also doesn't inflict immediately fatal damage. Sure, the terror of feeling a heart chamber rupture is sweet, however when the subject dies immediately afterwords you can't suck as much nourishment out. Also that you don't need to satisfy yourself on a single person. Distributing pain as you go throughout the day is a good habit to get into. Invisible needles, small cuts. It adds up."

Nihila turned a page and continued her lecture as though she were in the midst of casual anthropological discourse.

"The reason I warn against ravaging a single person is that it's sorely tempting. You can gain compounding resonant feedback by dissecting and understanding how best to use your power on that one individual's physiology. It provides an unimaginable boost. It's easy to jump the gun though. If you want a real feast you would have to take a single person somewhere secluded that you can work in private."

"I would never do that to someone." Marshall said, distracted by all manner of urges and stresses running though his head.

"Are you still hung up on that?" Nihila rested her book on a knee and peered at Marshall over her glasses.

"Everyone is equal. We're all winners." Marshall was only half listening. His head was pounding and it was hard to focus. The teenager felt oddly feverish. Without all his faculties, the teen had regurgitated that bit of propaganda like rancid shit.

"You don't honestly believe that, do you? Wait, I know you don't. Not wholly anyway. You've seen where that's bullshit. Hold on. It's time for a little show and tell. Stand up." Nihila instructed, setting down her book and rising from her seat. Too weak to argue, Marshall complied. He wanted to conserve his strength for battles that needed winning. The anthropomorphic manifestation waved a claw.

Time, in obedience to will, slowed. All his fellows froze. And frozen for inspection, they were so like mannequins. Hollow of anything but mechanical purpose. Nihila grabbed his hand and led him on a tour through the cafeteria, pointing out specific examples. Even though he was unfocused, Marshall saw one falling, having tripped over their own awkwardly proportioned feet. Like a machine whose gears did not mesh as they aught. There was no hope of the machine ever working properly. It was just put together wrong. And to believe anything to the contrary was simply incorrect. It could not be fixed. They were just one among many that Nihila used to illustrate her point.

They were unlike Marshall himself. He was constructed tightly and efficiently. Without waste or excess. So why did he continue to resist the power? He knew he could sharpen it like no one else could. He could sense that potential within himself. Every time he restrained that power, he felt it grow. He could hold it, shape it, do amazing, wonderful, cruelly violent things with it.

"Here, I'll make you an offer. Sever at least a few ligaments. You'll be able to feed off that all day as they try to deal with the pain of the muscle separating. Do that, and I'll let you cum in my mouth." Nihila licked her lips to try and get his attention, but Marshall would not yield his spirit. Nihil was doing a good job shaking the boy's confidence though. Having no intention of relenting at that moment, Marshall defiantly planted his rear back in his seat and the hustle resumed its pace.

"Have it your way." Nihila said with a sigh.

***

Marshall, sitting once again in his social studies, looked at Nihila waving her tail as she sat on the teacher's desk. The boy had definitely given up on trying to take notes in any of his classes. He dreaded what she would do. Yet he was also curious. Spreading her generous hips, Marshall saw where the seam of her shorts nicely creased along Nihila's slit. With her arms, she had her tits practically popping out of her top.

As soon as class started properly, the dragon-lady dismounted the desk and wandered to where the boy sat, then kneeled down and crawled under his desk. Though highly suspicious as to what his tormentor was up to, there really was not a whole hell of a lot he could do about it. Nihila undid his belt, unzipped his pants, and reached into his underwear to pull his cock out. She immediately wrapped her lips around the boy's member. Despite his best efforts not to move, he put a hand atop Nihila's head and tried to push her away when her hot mouth engulfed him. The scaly woman was infinitely stronger than she looked though, and did not budge.

"Ah ah! No. No touching. No talking. You've been a naughty boy and need to be punished. If you were a good boy, I would let you cum. I wouldn't move or make a fuss, if I were you." She said before resuming her oral attentions. Nihila peered up to him over her sexy scholar glasses with his member between her luscious lips. Knowing it was futile to try and make her stop, he clasped his hands on top of his desk to try and control himself. The scent of Nihila's perfume suffused every breath he took. His cock went from flaccid to iron hard in three licks as Nihila gripped his base and tugged. Marshall was not a small boy. No ordinary girl could deepthroat even half his endowment. But with her muzzle, Nihila could handle it easily.

She built him up quickly. Her tongue was fantastic, swirling around his tip then wrapping around his shaft. With a lick and a pull, she sucked on his whole length. She wasted no time riling him up. Pulling back until her lips just kissed his tip and sliding back down his slippery length. Whatever length Nihila did not have in her mouth she pumped with her hand. Sitting at the back of the class, Marshall was sure no one could directly see under his desk directly. Being sucked off in the middle of class was extraordinarily arousing and worrying. He could be caught so easily and that made him want to pop his cork as fast as possible. That's where the torture began. It was easy to inflame hiim. And it was even easier for Nihila to tell when he was about to cum. She could feel the intensity of his pulses. So she brought him close to his edge and then held him there.

He had never known anything of the like. His sexual experiences literally began and ended with his hand on lonely nights. In his wildest fantasies, he had never conceived of such a torture. For the full hour, Nihila had him almost cumming. Sometimes she held him still with her tongue tight around his shaft. Other times she would pull back completely and blow cold air over his tip. She knew exactly how to make him believe that each time he would be allowed to cum. Marshall, like many males his age, had gone on masturbation sprees before. Yet he always knew it would end in satisfaction.

The teacher, perhaps noticing that Marshall looked distressed or simply picking him because he was sitting at the back of the class, singled the boy out.

"Marshall, am I boring you?" The teacher demanded with a snide twist. It was at that moment that the boy had his head down on his desk, struggling not to reach under it. Nihila, in a truly sadistic turn, doubled down her efforts to pleasure the boy. Her muzzle worked wonders on his young cock. Twitching and sweating a little, Marshall looked up at the teacher and glanced around where a few other students were looking his way.

"Uh, yes, yeah... What?" He sputtered, only just restraining himself from wrenching Nihila's head off his cock, orgasm or no.

"Clearly," Shaking his head, the fat older man decided humiliating the boy further was not worth his effort. Fortunately for marshall.

Grinding his knuckles into the top of his desk, Marshall would have grabbed Nihila's long ears and face-fucked her, had he not been sitting under scrutiny. Even so, after the hour he was seriously considering it. As the end of the class neared he began to fear the dragoness would make good on her threat to not allow him to finish. Suddenly she offered him an out. When he thought he might just go mad, she pulled him out of her mouth with a wet pop and stroked him while she told him how to reach his prize.

"You can cum in my mouth, you know. I'll drink it all down if you use your power. Just a little. do it to the teacher." And then she was around him again and he grit his teeth.

Right at that exact moment, he was perfectly willing to do anything, so long as it meant he could cum and wreak a little hell on the instructor. His balls felt as though they might burst. He reached out with his power. It was easy, but harder too. Marshall speared a lance of pain straight through the back of the teacher's knee and out the bone. Leg going right out from under him, the older man slammed head-first into the steel lip at the bottom of the classroom whiteboard that held markers and erasers.

Nihila felt the rush of power and smiled around the tool in her mouth. With a roiling twirl of her tongue, she stroked his whole cock with her slippery organ as she pulled on his base with her lips. The boy felt his climax finally crash upon him as Nihil's hot mouth went all the way down to his root and her tongue squeezed. No one noticed Marshall reach under his desk and grab something invisible as he spasmed and shot his load. Release was so long in arrival that his shaft ached from having maintained his erection. When at last it arrived, his jizz poured in a single long stream at first. Fast enough to fill even Nihila's muzzle. Gulping and swallowing, she got past his initial load and drank down every spurt that followed.

Looking straight at him over her glasses, she milked him dry with the coyest gaze. When he at last spent himself, painting the back of her throat, she licked the last little dribble from his tip and gave his cock a little kiss. Then, as she slid her tongue along her lips, she winked and zipped Marshall's pants back up.

***

For the first time since receiving his power, Nihila followed him home. Marshall was actually glad of it. He had more than a few words for the scaly entity. The teen waited until Nihila took a seat on the edge of his bed before going off.

"What is wrong with you? Really. Where... Where did you ever get the idea that what you did was okay?" Marshall paced in front of the girl, agitated too much to sit still.

"I'm only as demented as you are, Marshall. If you had not let out some power, it would have started turning on you. You still don't see how everyone around you is ready to eat you alive and spit out the gristle." Nihila responded evenly.

"You're wrong. You're so wrong. People aren't like that. I believe everyone is just as good as everyone else. Just as capable of being good." The moral teen challenged.

"You mean as pathetic. Because when you apply that limit, then the best can only be as good as the worst. Not everyone has potential." The sexual apparition answered.

"Everyone can be great."

"Can they? Do they have your power?"

"This power is not natural! Not normal." Still he was resistant and fearful of his power. He had been trained for so long to deny such feelings. That he was inferior. Not better. Not superior. Cracks were starting to show. He made the argument for the sake of making the argument.

Nihila, naturally had a riposte even to that when Marshall finally exploded.

"You're wrong!" He screamed. "Shut up! Just shut the fuck up! I don't want to hear it anymore! Just leave me alone! Take this fucking power with you. I hate hurting people. And you just keep egging me on! You keep making me do things I don't want to. Tricking me into causing pain. And I've had enough!" He knew he had been harsh, lashing out with his rage like a steel-barbed whip. He cut as deep as he could. Slicing to bone. Nihila appeared to be taken aback for a moment. The boy hoped she would leave. He hoped that maybe she would lash back at him. Then he would have an excuse to hate her, and cull the feelings growing in him like creeping vines.

He found himself tired. Sad. A deep well yawed so low he felt all the pain bearing down on his shoulders and the weight, for the first time was just too much. It was too heavy to bear alone. First the crushing force brought him down to his knees. Then down to the floor. He knew he had to stand up. But the weight felt like it was just getting heavier. When had he been this small and weak? He felt so fragile, simply living hurt worse than he could have imagined.

Just as the cold dark fell in all around him, he felt warm hands encircle him. Nihila did not get mad. She did not shout back or even raise her voice. Instead of anger or a scolding, she reached out with both arms and drew him to her bosom. Even when he struggled, she just held on tighter. She held him quietly until he relaxed into her. With him still, Nihila stroked his hair to calm him further. Then she spoke softly.

"Shh, my darling. It's okay. I know it's hard. It's not fair that you have to bear all of this burden. I'm not angry with you for being upset. That's not how loved ones react when the precious lives under their care are hurting. And I see how badly you're hurting. Hush my love. Everything's going to be okay. Come to me. Nihila will make all the pain go away. You bear so much, little one. Everyone deserves a break. This is your respite. No strings. No commitment. You don't have to feel weak for having a moment of self-pity. I'll wash away your your hurt and pain. Let me be your solace and your succor. I shall never judge you. Never leave you. And I will love you as no else can, could, or will."

Then the dragon-lady lifted her shirt and her full, round breasts fell out. He had noticed before how perfectly full and round they were. It was impossible not to notice. Marshall opened his mouth, but hesitated.

"It's alright. I want you to. Please, my breasts are so full." Even as she moved her nearest globe for him he saw a little dribble of milk from her nipple. His mouth was already parted in desire and that sight was just enough to set him off. He took her nipple into his maw and gave a long suck, drawing warm milk from her breast. A part deep down recognized that it was tainted by residual pain, harvested from various sources. Once that first swallow was on his tongue he was lost. Such a hunger rose up within him. A desire for cream that meant succor and comfort. He nursed strongly enough to make her tit sore from his pulls. But it was a good soreness. She smiled as she felt life flowing out of her and into him.

That was the reason she existed. To comfort and encourage like no one else was willing to do for her dearest love. And even after he had drank all the milk she had from one breast, she merely repositioned him to her other. He closed his eyes and nursed a bit more gently on the other globe. She made no limits on his hunger. He was a child so desperate for comfort and nourishment that he even drank that breast dry. As his belly finally filled, he felt the warmth spread in and out of him, screaming insides quenched. A sleep, deep and full of feathery dreams beckoned.

"Sleep. Sleep, my love. Rest and be refreshed. And know that you are so precious. Dream of flying things and freedom from all worldly shocks and fears."

For the first time he let himself give in. He accepted the comfort. Leaned on it, required it. And what a weight was lifted from his shoulders. All the world slipped away except for Marshall and his dark-eyed guardian.

***

Feeling more in control of his faculties than he had for weeks, Marshall was only just aware of himself enough to feel a prickle before he was attacked.

A ripple of invisible knives grazed his back, nearly shearing straight through him. It was as he was walking down an empty hall and the teen whirled. Standing with an arm stretched out, reaching, clawing towards him with power was a short, half-starved, shell of a boy. When Marshall saw the manic expression and insanity in the gaze, he knew exactly what was about to happen.

He only had a moment to react before another powerful assault rocked him. In the moment of truth, do or die, Marshall had to rise, or fall. And he rose. Given real reason at last, and recently fed ripe pain, the teenager unleashed everything he had. His assailant had enough time to see the attack before his central nerves were shredded. It was elegant in its path, carving under and through the flimsy defense his assailant threw up. It was swiftly brutal in its form. Concise and coiled, once the attack hit, it exploded into razor wire. Not only did Marshall attack the other boy's physical body, but the attacker's will and the stronger user feasted on the power he found beneath it. What a sweet and tender morsel it was.

The other wielder gurgled up a mouthful of blood, and wept crimson tears and collapsed. Dead before he hit the ground.

Nihila looked on with a smile and black eyes.

***

Marshall hung his head and held it between his hands. He left school early and sat on his bed in his dark room. It was a long time before he spoke.

"I did something, Nihila. I did something bad."

"Even by your standards, you did nothing. It is okay to defend yourself. Plain and simple. At a fundamental level, even you cannot deny. You have a fundamental right to defend yourself with equal force." Marshall did not bother to ask how she knew what he had done. He felt a weight settle on the bed beside him and a reassuring hand on his back. "I know what will make you feel better. Something that you've earned."

Nihila got up from the bed and stood before her unwitting lover. She was wearing one of her white dresses. But not for long. With a sway and a knowing smile, the dragoness pulled the straps of her dress off and let the garment fall to a rumpled heap around her feet. Marshall turned away with an embarrassed scowl, but not before he caught a glance of her standing unabashedly naked for him. He wanted to hate her, be angry, refuse her, but she was also beautiful. Beautiful in ways he had never known beauty to be before. She was glorious in her skin and scales, breasts large and full, pussy demure and hinting at greater pleasures. Nihila thought Marshall's reaction simply adorable.

Obviously the boy did not know what to do with a real woman, so she pushed him back onto the bed and climbed atop him. Marshall had learned not to fight her. Though he tried to deny it, his heart raced at the thought of what she would do to him. Mulberry hair fell in a cascade, framing her effeminate features and slim muzzle. Marshall was instantly aroused as he felt Nihil's warm crotch press into his stomach and her scent enveloped him. He had become unsure whether the bloody honeysuckle was a perfume, or just how she smelled naturally.

"I want you to touch me. Explore. You've been such a good boy."

She grasped his hand and guided it to her left breast. Nihila moaned for him as he grasped the pillowy globe. Then she dragged him down her belly until she had him between her legs. Instantly Marshall felt the heat and her wetness. He had never gotten so lucky, so never knew that girls got so wet down there. Well, he had maybe imagined it. Her pussy felt smooth and softer even than her breasts. The boy had never felt something so supple in his life. When he pushed a finger past the lips of her sex, he slid along her inner vulva. His digit was instantly soaked with her juices and she gasped for him, gyrating her hips atop the teen. Rubbing up Marshall knew her clit should be there. His finger traced something fleshy but hard all at once. Nihila jumped a little when he found her love button.

Even though he was clumsy in his attempts, the dragoness found it endearing. Because Marshall wanted to be the one to make Nihil cum this time, he tried his best. When Nihila hunched over the boy and furiously humped his hand, gushing onto him and gasping loudly, she knew she was allowing Marshall release from his sexual frustrations. With her movement, the teen found the entrance of her pussy and pressed a finger into her. She was so impossibly tight he had to force the digit in. Clamping down hard enough in pleasure to stop the boy's finger at the second digit and cut off his circulation, the dragoness leaned over and pressed her lips to his. Lifting her hips with Marshall still inside her spasming cunt, she wrapped that talented tongue around his while she came.

That was the point of no return for the boy. When Nihila's mouth met his and she tasted like pure, decanted agony, his craving was ignited.

Pulling back, they remained connected for a moment by a thick strand of saliva for a moment. Nihila rolled sedately off the boy and crawled further up the bed. She turned onto her back, propped up onto the boy's pillows. She beckoned for him. With her legs spread for him, Marshall saw her pussy on full display and a glistening droplet of sweat run between her breasts. Her tail lay under her, propping up her privates. Hairless and smooth, the petals of Nihila's sex were the faintest rosy pink with her tight tailhole just beneath. Their exertions so far glistened on her scales, thighs, and soft belly. Her wings were parted as well, mantled behind her. Dark eyes held expectation and desire behind her glasses.

Even with his inexperience, Marshall still knew what to do next. Stripping his clothing with frenzy, he thought of nothing else but taking the female. Once unhindered, he climbed atop the female. Taking his cock in hand, he guided it to her entrance. He felt the soft lips of her pussy part for his cock. With how vice tight and wet her insides were, her body begged him to mistreat her. Pushing hard to overcome the initial resistance, Marshall suddenly plunged his endowed manhood all the way to the root. Suddenly he was inside her and it was almost too much. The sensations simply too intense. He had to stop and breathe before he exploded. And the only reason he managed that was because his wish to enjoy her outweighed his need to breed hot cunny.

He was purposefully rough. She just smiled and spread her legs further, laying back. Submissive just for him.

"Yes. Yes, take me. Take me as hard and fast as you want. Spend yourself in me. On me. Use me. Vent your rage. I will always be here for you." He wanted to be rough with her and she responded expertly to his desires. It only took a moment for him to retake control and began plunging hard and erratically into Nihila's unnaturally tight pussy. Marshall slaked his awakened carnal appetites against her flesh. Wet slapping sounded through the room as her pussylips grasped his shaft tight, drawing him back in each time. His hips met plump thighs, lovely roundness providing cushion for the boy. She responded so wonderfully to him.

Like a well tuned instrument, harmonized to his touch, Nihila responded wonderfully to his frantic lovemaking. Every stroke was a symphony of sensation. She responded elegantly to his brutish advances. There was so subtlety in his ravaging thrusts, only need. She gasped for him, writhed for him, and bit into his neck hard enough to draw blood. Marshall growled and shook her off. He grabbed her hard and buried his face in her tits, groaning. In spite of all his passion and desire, there was no way that Marshall was going to last very long. Marshall felt himself about to pop again and was about to slow down when Nihila wrapped her legs around the boy and held him fast inside her.

"Oh no you don't. You're not pulling out until you've cum everything you've got into me." With a devilish clench, her pussy rippled around his cock. Marshall was unable to stop himself from ramming his cock right up against the end of her tunnel and came hard enough to make his stomach cramp. His hot seed spilled straight into Nihila's womb. Marshal's balls clenched and emptied themselves hard and fast, making the dragoness cry out in joy as she felt her precious boy cum for her. She grabbed his hips and made him thrust a few more times so she could properly drain him.

Panting and limp with exertion, Marshall rested against her bosom, sex, stomach, and thighs. All lightly padded and just the perfect form for his comfort. Nihila stroked his hair and crooned contentedly.

"Do you love me, Marshall?"

"Yes, I love you."

"Even though you were taught it was wrong."

"Yes."

"Even if it means be alienated and alone in your power."

"Yes."

"Even if you must swim through the dark in search of strength?"

"Yes, Nihila."

"Good boy."

***

Marshall's heart felt as though it might burst in anticipation. He was starving. So hungry it felt like he might go mad.

For there she lay. His first true prey. The most perfect morsel. Kneecaps shattered and vocal chords torn so she could not call for help. She looked up at him with fear. Her breasts rose and fell with her heavy breathing. He saw her white dress. He drank in the unsullied purity and could imagine it soon turning crimson red. The sight acted as a salient for his power. Honing it. And in that moment it was sharp enough to crease the very universe on its edge.

Then Nihila hissed in his ear, the scent of bloody honeysuckle whetting his lust.

"Feeeeeed."

Peeling back her flesh, Marshall sated his appetite upon the girl.

This story is dedicated to all the dark little Nihila's that whisper in the ear of those exceptional few, telling them to go just a tiny bit further. Be a little bit better. Drive themselves a tiny bit harder.

And thank you as always, gentle reader.