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There was a time when dragon clans ruled the planet. They soared high in the sky and swam beneath the waters, terrifying humans with their fury. They were the size of horses and could not breathe fire, but their agility, lightning reflexes, strong but light armour, sharp claws, excellent eyesight, deadly tails, cunning minds and, of course, their ability to fly gave humans no chance. Until one famous moment when gunpowder was discovered. Then came centuries of struggle, pride, arrogance, ridiculous illusions, alliances and betrayals, wars, rivers of blood, massacres and even genocide passed. But what are centuries to beings who know no aging? Somehow the last few thousand surviving dragons found themselves eking out a miserable existence on a highland reservation area. In time, the invention of flying machines and electricity allowed humankind to mercifully forget about the existence of a rival species of ancient beasts and return to their favourite pastime of slaughter their own kind. That's life.

---

The extremely low fertility of females was a well-known fact, so the young were treated with forgiving benevolence on the reservation.

• How much longer can we stand it? - A silverscaled young dragon heated with cheap liquor called out to the boozer patrons.

• Yeaaah! - echoed the drunken dragon mob.

• And while we're starving and freezing here they're...

• Yeaaah!

The old black dragon lying on the worn cushions heard only occasional phrases. Through the alcoholic fumes he heard something about unity, liberty and rebellion. A long-healed bullet wound in his wing shoulder stung him, and the thought ran through his mind: "Always reading some shit and talking rubbish".

Quite quickly the silver one was exhausted and obviously satisfied with the general approval of his fiery but seditious speeches. He lay down on the carpet to catch his breath.

• I bet those buggers won't remember a single thing in the morning, kid. - Silver lifted his head, a black dragon standing over him.

• Excuse me?

• Trust my experience, dreaming of rebellion and doing it, are two big differences.

The silver one's reddish eyes widened.

• Banag! Is that really you? I've read so much abo..

Black quickly squeezed his mouth with his forepaw.

• That's all in the past, lad, I'm just an engineer and a drunk now - he said in a stammering voice and waved his head casually towards the stairs to the second floor where the rooms were located.

---

When the silver dragon entered Banag slammed the door behind him and sat down on the boardwalk.

• I heard your speech, lad, and I knew you spoke from the heart. But with these - he flapped his wing downward - you'll just waste your time, be alone, and eventually be dead.

There was already a raucous drunken chant from downstairs:

Raised on pain and sips of pig-swill,

that was my youth!

Mama's pat on the back

a toast to uncouth!

• That's right. Be. Dead. Because going at humans head-on is suicide. Any fool can die. You're not a fool, are you?

• I... I... - at the sight of a drunken veteran, all the silver dragon's warlike nature began to shrivel like a cock in the cold.

• What's your name, boy?

• Xozziasdyn.

• So Xozzy, if you really want to save our kind, you have to be cunning. Got it? Any ideas?

• We could steal their war weaponry to...

Black lazily opened his hip bag, revealing a pistol skilfully modified to fit the dragon's paw.

• It doesn't... No! - Xozzy exclaimed in excitement.

• Yes, it does. There are 17 charges. Five billion of them only. What's next?

• Well then, with this weapon we can... we can kill their leaders and then they'll...

• They choose their leaders. Behind every one of them is a dozen equally greedy scumbags just waiting to take their place.

Life's just a twisted tale,

that's how it goes!

Mama's got knack for a bottle,

everyone knows!

• No son, a gun's not gonna do it. It's got to be more delicate than that. Corruption, intelligence, infin... ilf.. infltration you know, plans within plans. Got it? What if I told you there's a secret organisation that's been doing this things for years? Have you heard of it?

Xozzy shook his head negatively, though he was beginning to guess what was going on. He's being recruited, just like in that spy book of his.

• That's the whole point. You haven't heard because we.. they don't exist but it's going according to The Plan. If you're interested come and see me at the electrical substation. If not, consider it all as a drunken ramblings. The black dragon stood up, opened the door and walked out.

From the reservation's troubles

to the memoir of the past.

In this messed-up world,

we'll find it in a glass!

---

The silver dragon, who yesterday imagined that he and his battle brothers would tear the soft flesh of the hated oppressors with their teeth now imagines himself to be a secret agent, a representative of a powerful but invisible organisation, a bearer of forbidden knowledge. The romance of the secret life awaits him, beyond the reach of the profane.

• Do we have our own secret sign or gesture?

• What if our enemies discover it, huh? You might as well put "spy" tattooed on your forehead. It doesn't work like that, lad. - black dragon Banag tried to explain the basics of conspiracy to the rookie.

• How do I recognise our associates?

• You don't. You'll only know and work for me, your curator. We hide the trees in the forest, got it? By the way, do you have a girlfriend... or a boyfriend if you're one of those guys? No? Then you've never... Very good.

• Why good?

• Well.. Umm.. This relationship is gonna get in your way, you know? Anyway, you must never tell anyone about our business. No one. That's the golden rule.

• Will I get a pistol?

• Who are you going to shoot at, son? Don't worry, you deserve it, we'll give it to you. All right. Now you have to swear that you'll do anything for our common cause. Do you swear?

• I swear,- the silver one said without hesitation. He was expecting something more solemn than swearing to the hum of the electrical transformers, but he fought himself. Trees in the forest.

• I mean it, seriously. ANYTHING. Are you really sure you're ready? It's not too late to leave.

• I'm willing to do anything for the freedom of our kind! - The dragon declared solemnly, without a drop of hypocrisy in his soul, only a desire to save his kin from a humiliating fate.

• Good. Then you are officially accepted. Pour la liberté! (For liberty!)

• Pour la liberté!

The black dragon stood on his hind legs, balanced with his tail, and hugged the silver one with his wings.

• Welcome aboard, brother.

---

After a fortnight of petty errands it was time for the first real assignment.

• I'll tell you a secret, brother.

This time their hidden rendezvous took place near the pumping station. The sound of the water made them scream.

• You probably know that all this is human technology - he circled the numerous pipes and wires with his fore paw. - Pitiful handouts to the vanquished, ay, but what you don't know is that many humans are secretly working for us.

• Are you taking humans to be our brothers?!

• Brothers? Of course not. We use them. And they use us. It's a team game, you know what I'm sayin'?

• But they're our enemies!

• Enemies. But that's politics. Forget it, you're not getting it yet. The point is, the crux of your mission is to work with one of these guys. I can't give you all the details but his decisions on certain issues are critical to our cause. You'll meet him here. - Banag pointed with his claw to a spot on a crumpled paper map.

• But it's off the reservation.

• Don't interrupt me. In the envelope, in addition to your copy of the map, there's a 24-hour visa. Just show it to the border guard and you'll be allowed to pass. Your mission is to make sure he doesn't change his mind and give you the box. Just do whatever he wants and remember, no hostility, pretend you're in favour of co-existence and all that bullshit. Don't be late back or we'll all be in serious trouble. And one more thing - he brought his black muzzle right up to the white notch of the ear canal - If a single hair falls off this man, it's a gross violation of The Plan. Whoever violates it, is a traitor, and we have a short talk with traitors. Do I make myself clear?

Xozziasdyn realised in all seriousness that Banag wasn't joking. He was a rookie and his first failure would be his last. But instead of being terrified, he felt a pleasant thrill. That's discipline, no slackness. Harsh but fair, all military. My first mission!

• Pour la liberté! - he replied solemnly.

---

'No flying over the border is allowed. Violators will be SHOT without warning' - stated the inscription in human and Clawrite, with a schematic but telling illustration below.

Rare islands of anti-aircraft artillery guns stretched to the horizon. They marked the border of the reservation.

There was the resounding sound of a stamp being struck.

• You may pass. Don't cause any trouble Mr.Dragon - the border guard in the booth said in a strong accent and returned passport and visa.

Xozzy took the documents without a word, put them in his hip bag and walked on his four legs towards the authorised take-off zone.

"We're born free and they keep us here like cattle! Stop. Chill out, I'm on a mission, this is no time to get emotional" he thought.

The rendezvous point was a few hours flight away. It was a human house and a huge barn in the middle of a hilly area. Other than that, there was only a country road and wildlife around. Silverscaled had never been off the reservation before and to his slight disappointment this place was not much different from dragon territory.

Leading to the landing he saw a man waving hello. A common human, male, brown hair, thin, dressed in old-fashioned leather clothing. What was so important about him? He was grinning, but the dragon knew that humans used that gesture to express joy, not aggression.

• Welcome Mr.Dragon! I'm very glad you've come. Are you from our black friend? Very good. May I ask your name? - For a human, he spoke the draconian language surprisingly well.

• Xozziasdyn - the silverscaled said slowly.

The man repeated it without any errors the first time. Then he pointed to a corner of the barn. There was a low table and a mountain of nice embroidered cushions.

• Please have a seat and I'll bring us some lunch.

---

They had a good lunch, something the dragon couldn't deny. There was a delicious meatloaf with sauce and cold soft drinks. The tastes of humans and dragons differed greatly but the human seemed to eat his portion with no less gusto.

• My name is George. I know that among our species there were, and what is to be said, there are still great contradictions, but I believe that my high position will allow me to make up for at least some of them.

The dragon wanted to express his opinion about the "species contradictions", but he clenched his jaws in time.

George spoke politely and even light-heartedly, but his brown eyes examined the dragon appraisingly.

• You know, in my country they sell a lot of fantasy books about knights defeating dragons and saving damsels from them. Those books are evil and unfair for the most part. But there are others I liked much better. About the knight and his faithful dragon friend, about their bond, about their flights in the clouds. - he sighed heavily - They were naive books, yeah.

The very idea of befriending a human seemed absurd to silverscaled, and to carry him around on his back was blasphemously humiliating.

"Don't forget, co-existence and all that bullshit."

• It's impossible. Our limit for a flight is 10 kilos, maybe 15.

• I know but it's a fairy tale, and in fairy tales anything is possible. When I was a kid I always dreamed of having a dragon friend so we could play knight games but alas, it didn't work out. I had figurines, books, paintings, studied your culture and even learnt your language. I'm older now, of course, but I still have a part of that kid in me. So listen to my proposal: we will play this game and you will fulfil my childhood dream. And in return, I'll make sure your curator will be very, VERY happy with you. Do we have an agreement?

"And if I say no, I'll fly away empty-pawed, fail my first mission in shame, let down the organisation, the reservation and my entire kin. Awesome."

The dragon sighed resignedly, he didn't have the heart to agree to such a thing out loud. Realising this, the man grinned happily again and walked briskly to the barn, opening the huge doors.

• That's very good. Take off your bag, my friend, you won't need it for a while and then come in, I've already prepared everything.

He really had. The barn inside was a well-lit manege, with riding equipment hanging on the side of the wall. Saddle, harness, bridle. And a whip.

• You've got to be fucking kidding me George.

• I won't hurt you, I promise. What kind of knight would whip his friend?

• Human one.

George smiled as he let the remark pass and began to harness the dragon. Xozzy didn't believe in all this knight-n-dragon nonsense, but he was surprised at how clever the harness design was. The saddle was comfortably positioned just above the wings, the straps held firmly around the body but did not touch the webbings.

• Open your mouth please. Yeah like this. - He inserted a jointed bit, two metal sticks flexibly attached to each other, and tightened the bridle straps around his head. They were comfortable and didn't even touch the ear-webbings.

But how humiliating it all was, how embarrassing. Not so long ago he had wanted to fight and kill humans, and now what, and more importantly who, was doing to him? He began to boil.

• Listen up human, I'm willing to play this game of yours because of my task, but if a single living soul hears of it... - He jerked his head angrily - About all of it, I swear on the holy Goddess's egg!

The dragon bared his white teeth threateningly, and the bridle and reins hung loosely over them.

The man stepped back and raised his hands with his palms open in a placating manner.

• No one will know, you have my word. Look for yourself, there's no one here but you and me. No one is in the house. And all around us is a sanitary zone of the reservation, not a single soul for many kilometres.

As if to confirm his words, he circled the arena with his hands, and for a moment held his gaze on the camouflaged lens of a black-and-white film camera. There were 16 of them here, to ensure that the coming action would be filmed from all angles.

• Not even your curator will know. I'm not going to describe all the... the, um, delicate details of our agreement in my letter. We just had a nice chat and some lemonade, that's all.

The man's promise, a tasty meatloaf with sauce and a sense of the deep importance of the mission for which he was paying such a price calmed his youthful hot-headedness and he opened his mouth again, inviting the man to continue.

He didn't know much about the body language of these strange creatures, but it looked like George was really happy and didn't want to humiliate him. When he had finished his preparations, he climbed into the saddle quite deftly.

"Uuugh"

As deadly as dragons were, they were still agile flying creatures with light bones. At the size of a horse, they weighed as much as a pony.

• How much do you weigh, 'dragon knight'?

• 74kg. Is it heavy for you?

• No. - the silver one lied proudly. Admit to a human that he's a weakling? Not a chance.

• Look, when I pull on the right rein...

• I know how to handle horses, George - Xozzy grumbled through gritted teeth - I just never thought that I'd be made into one - he added, though no longer angry, but rather aware that this trial had to be endured.

• There's a first time for everything! - He felt a slight kick of the heels and went forwards with great struggle. - Go on my faithful steed, we have a wonderful day ahead of us! - The man shouted and flicked his whip in the air, making a distinctive sound.

"For you, jerk" - went through the dragon's mind. He walked, helping himself to the rhythm with his tail and gradually picking up the pace. At first he just walked in circles around the arena, but gradually the blows, the jerks of the bit in his mouth and the blows of the whip that began to hit his thighs more and more often became more demanding. The rider was clearly getting into the taste. He demanded galloping, trotting and even cantering with his voice. The dragon began to run out of steam, feeling a nagging pain in his muscles and breathing frequently. After shouting about some 'Legions of Chaos', he sent him into a maximum gallop then jerked the reins with all his might. The mouth bit folded, crushing dragon's tongue, pulling down his lips and hitting his palate with the joint point. From the sudden and unexpected pain he stood on his hind legs, spread his wings, slapped his tail against the ground, opened his mouth and roared like a lion. A second later it hit him: he's been reared up on his hind paws!

• Hourra!!!

"That's it meat! You're gonna be so fucked right..."

"Not a single hair falls off this man!" - Banag's face looked at him with threat and reproach at the same time. "Are you broken already, kid? You're not fit for field work after all, too flighty."

"But he can't treat me like this!"

"Be patient young chap, for great things are in store for us".

In the silver head mini-Banag fought with the inner voice and finally they came to a consensus that just this once they would forgive the bold human, but if he does it again, then... But of course the bold human continued to overwork his 'faithful steed' and of course the dragon didn't dare to stop him. The sense of duty and the burden of responsibility were too great.

Tight strings of saliva flew out with each heavy exhalation. His head spun and his vision faded. It was only his dragon sized ego kept him from collapsing on his belly under an increasingly heavy burden. Suddenly the wild race stopped and his body felt as if it had lost its weight. He was patted on the neck.

• Good boy! You're really amazing! I've never had so much fun in my life!

Instead of "fuck you" there was some sort of throaty rumble that George probably took as an acceptance of gratitude.

---

• Let's go, you're very tired my friend and you definitely need a freshening shower. - He took him by the reins and led him into a locker room with a huge shower for a whole football team. The dragon's claws clacked on the tiled floor as he tentatively approached the wall with built-in shower heads. Xozzy waited for another nasty surprise but the water felt surprisingly pleasant and the pressure was almost perfect for massaging his strained muscles. They continued to ache, but the sharp pain was gradually replaced by a lingering one, providing welcomed relief. The dragon even relaxed a little. The cameras in the locker room area were already in full operation and of course there were more of them here. George approached the dragon with a shampooy sponge.

• Why didn't you take off my harness?

• I didn't take mine off either, did I? - He actually didn't take off his light leather armour and the water poured right over it. -You look very sexy in it. - he added quietly.

• What?

• I'm saying you're already wet enough, I'm going to soap you up.

• I can soap myself up just fine.

• Come on, just look at you, you can barely stand on your own four feet. - His grin made it clear that he was well aware of the shamelessness of his own argument.

The dragon closed his eyes and counted from 10 to 0. Then he exhaled and opened them.

"Alright, let him have his fun. This so-called knight friend of mine has really messed me up to the point where it hurts to move".

The water turned off and George began to soap. He started with the neck, holding one hand against the warm scaly skin with the other, he used the sponge to soap the tense muscle bumps. Dragons don't sweat so it was enough to cool him down with cold water but for a human the act was comparable to a ritual. There it is, just to think, right in front of him is a real male dragon and how naturally he moves. From this distance he could even hear the hum of his lungs. The soapy white scales shimmered under the light of the electric lamps and really seemed to be made of silver. After soaping his neck he moved on to his double shoulder joints and skinny sides. He soaped hard, but very carefully.

• Would you give me your front hand? - he lifted the relaxed paw with one hand.

It looked sizable, but it turned out to be light. He soaped up his biceps, triceps, elbow, wrist and moved on to the clawed fingers, which had small webbing between them. The fingers themselves were grasping, rough and wiry without any hint of padding.

Xozziasdyn was confused and didn't know how to react. Despite the alarming closeness of the dragonkind's enemy he didn't feel directly threatened. He was more concerned about whether or not the washing was humiliating. The sensations were certainly not deceiving, it was very pleasant. The fruity scent and the slight coolness of the shampoo, the massaging touch.

"Not even your low-down mum soaped you as nicely as this man. And when you were still wyrmling she even didn't bother" a vicious inner voice spoke suddenly. “Shut up".

Meanwhile the human moved on to the dragon's hind legs and tail, which the dragon submissively set up. The human was especially thorough and gentle in sponging the entrance to his cloaca. It made sense, but it was strange to receive such a treatment from someone else. On the other paw human was also a male and in dragon baths, groups of males and females washed on different days, so there was nothing to be embarrassed about.

• George, take that saddle off, it's not comfortable for me to stand like this.

• Of course, but I'll take off my jacket too.

The dragon flapped its folded wings as if to shrug. Then he glanced at the undressing man. There was nothing special about it: smooth white-pink skin and not the slightest hint of natural armour, spikes or anything sharp. Maybe that's why they are so wicked.

The unbuckled light saddle flopped into the soapy puddle and the dragon felt even lighter.

• Now spread your wing.

• In the name of the Goddess be careful of the webbing.

• I'll be very careful, trust me.

• Pfff - the dragon turned away but nevertheless spread the wing fully. It was like a sail stitched with thousands of pink veins.

George soaped the wing methodically and thoroughly, and then scratched the wingclaw.

"How soft human's hands are, I'm always clawing at it".

The man seemed to enjoy washing him too so his work was going well. The mission was definitely getting better by the minute.

Finished with the wings he turned the water back on to rinse off the foam. The dragon clenched his third eyelid in pleasure as he put different parts of his body under the water.

• And now open your mouth, I'm going to brush your teeth.

With a toothbrush in his hand, George confidently went over all sharp teeth. The taste of toothpaste was nothing compared to that powdered crap from the reservation. Cold, sweet and fresh as the mountain wind. He inhaled the smell and almost forgot about the stupid iron bit thing that was still in his mouth. Suddenly he caught himself realising that the man had his hand on his tongue, and it was wrapping around his fingers for some reason.

• What's your hand doing in my maw, George? - The silver one said, twisting the sounds because he couldn't close his mouth.

• Oh, sorry - he pulled his hand out - I got carried away. You know what, speaking of maws though. Could you... er - he hesitated - turn your head round and take my face into your mouth?

• You want me to bite your face off?

• God forgive me, of course not! No, I just want you to carefully take it inside.

• My teeth are very sharp.

• Try to be gentler, I've got delicate skin on my face, you know.

• Is this one of your games?

• Eh, well, yeah, we humans play this kind of game. It's called kissing.

• Kisssssinnnnn - Xozzy hissed the sounds of a human word unfamiliar to his throat blowing the last consonant into his nose.

• That's right, kissing. - George smiled and placed his hand on the dragon's scaly chin.

He rolled his eyes, chest full, and then exhaled, blowing a stream of toothpaste-scented air at the man. Without a word he opened his mouth wide and took the man's head into his maw, trying to control his every movement.

• Now stick the tip of your tongue into my mouth. - came from inside.

"Now I get it. He's just a lunatic. Humans are just a race of fucking lunatics. Who else would think of running invisible magical power through copper strings? So then his desire to shove that head of his into the mouth of a top predator is not too surprising."

The man greedily grabbed the tip of his tongue with his lips and literally sucked it in. Inside he felt the familiar taste of toothpaste and the man's short tongue licked furiously at his meaty dragon tongue. It was strange to grope another person's mouth with his tongue, it was both similar and dissimilar to his own. The man was also clearly trying to control the movement of his teeth as well as he was. It wasn't unpleasant or disgusting, it just made a strong impression that the man was pulling him into the orbit of insanity of his race for some reason.

Suddenly George let out the tongue and pressed lightly on the dragon's lips with his hands to free his head.

• So, did you like that 'game' of yours?

• Yes yes... I.. I'll be right back. - He walked briskly towards the small door. Then he turned round abruptly, pulled a huge puffy towel off the hook and threw it at the dragon. -Dry yourself off and go over there to the gym. I'll be right there. - he said quickly, walking away at a brisk pace.

"What? Did he have to go to the latrine or something?"

Nope, he didn't.

"I'm going to explode. I'm going to fucking explode right now. Gotta calm down, calm down George, calm down. How many YEARS have you waited for this?"

He shook his head and covered his eyes with his palms.

"Xozziasdyn. Silverscaled male, so young and innocent, hot-blooded, strong, agile, sincere, proud, wild with energy but able to control himself, a savage, an innocent lovely savage, and what a body, what a mouth, what a CLOACA" - George slapped himself with all his might, then stood up and ran to the sink, putting his head under the icy water.

It helped.

"Holy fucking shit..." - George inhaled and exhaled loudly - "Mm-hmm what was that reddish miscreant after? To have the concession revised or something? I'm on it. And then I'll telegraph him to send me the silver Xozzy boy for a month." - He licked his lips - "or rather two".

---

In this spacious room, there was only a huge padded mat on the floor, mountains of pillows, and a dragon mug with a long straw on a table in the corner. Lemonade. Only now did he realise how thirsty he was. After quenching his thirst and making sure the human wasn't around, he collapsed chest-deep into the soft cushions, spreading his wings to their full length. He stretched and yawned. The flight and galloping around the manege had exhausted him. Soft. Warm. Good. So good.

Soon he heard footsteps and arched his neck. A man was approaching, wiping his hands with some fragrant oil from a bottle. Flowers and pine, that's what summer smells like. It was short on the reservation.

• Now I'm going to give you a massage. Do you know what it is?

• We're not barbarians, George. We have skilful practitioners.

• They're no match for me. Fold your wings please.

• Whatever you say - He prepared to get bored watching the man's pathetic efforts.

George slipped his fingers under the wings' armpits and began kneading the muscles.

The silver one's eyes widened in surprise. Soft and strong hands seemed to guess where it was aching now and kneaded, tingled, squeezed and rubbed. Where those hands touched, the pain disappeared. It was as if it flowed into a river through which it floated away into oblivion. "He's a magician!"

The dragon's neck arched to see how he did it.

Satisfied with the effect he had achieved, the man smirked.

• Where did you learn to massage like that, human?

• By books.

• Human books?

• Human books about dragons. As you can see, they're not just about slaying, as many of you think. - He vividly recalled his favourite colour atlas of dragon anatomy, especially the page on their reproductive system. How much he'd jerked off to it, especially in his university dorm. Until he learnt that there were painters willing to draw lewd pictures for a modest fee. George was a regular customer, even had a scrapbook.

Meanwhile his hands kneaded dragon's thighs under the straps of the harness, then the spine between the wings, disc by disc, click, click, click, down to the base of the tail and on to the tip. The muscles of the wings. The head. At first he squeezed it and tapped it lightly. And when he slipped his finger between the horn and the ear-webbing and pressed, the dragon almost squealed with pleasure, but he caught himself in time.

"Still, I mustn't forget who stands before me. He's my target and objective, he's my enemy." said the inner voice.

"On the other paw, maybe I should forget at least for a while, eh?" whispered another "The task seems to be fulfilling itself, and this human being, well, he's kinda wrong. Not what I imagined him to be"

• Lie on your back please.

The muscles, which ten minutes ago had been as if poured with lead, now worked like a lubricated machinery. The dragon deftly rolled over and lay back on the cushions, willingly placing its front armoured plates. His slightly upward-pointing rib cage met his very thin belly, which in turn flowed smoothly into his tail. If he still had any doubts, he decided to leave them for later. These hands were too good.

Now George was massaging the fingers of his forepaws. He bent and unbent the scaly phalanges and stretched the paw-webbing pleasantly.

As strange as it seemed, this was the first time he had ever done this. But he had read so much about it and imagined it before bed, it was as if his hands were doing their own thing.

Then he moved on to the hind paws. After going over the thighs and calves again, he took the foot, put his thumbs to the middle of it and pressed. There was a slight crunch, and a spasm ran through the dragon's body. The clawed toes clenched instinctively, as if trying to grip something securely, and then relaxed again.

George pressed his cheek against the white reptilian foot, holding it with one hand and rubbing the stubble against the rough scales. The other hand he placed on the base of the tail where the pelvis bone protruded. And next to the protrusion was a desired horizontal line, one of the main targets of his distant childhood dreams and a near decisive attack.

He'd just groped the dragon's body everywhere and was getting aroused again but his instinct for self-preservation told him not to rush. That paw he was rubbing against might kill him so quickly that no one would even blink an eye. He heard the slight hum of the film cameras, looked at the bridled head lying peacefully on the cushions and then dared to take a leap of faith. Placing his hands on the inner sides of the dragon's thighs, he spread them wider and then brought his palms right up to the slit, massaging around and gradually spreading it, releasing his male cloaca. He saw the red skin, the bulging ring of what looked a lot like slightly throbbing 'lips' hiding the tight walls of the entrance.

"Here I go" - he brought his face closer and lightly touched his lips to the cloaca. Thankfully the dragon didn't react yet and he continued. Their unlike lips seemed to lock together in a kiss, he kissed them in time with the throbbing, touching the entrance hole with his tongue. It wasn't tight and allowed the tip of his tongue to pass inside. They tasted like freshly washed skin and the smell, besides the shampoo, smelt lightly of dragon pheromones. It was a subtle, warm and soft scent that combined muted earthy, fleshy, woody and spicy notes.

It was how he kissed the dragon's cloaca, exploring it with his tongue, lips, and even a little bit with his teeth.

After a relaxing shower and massage, Xozziasdyn was lying in a slight slumber with his eyes closed, somewhat like a drowsy cat being petted. He didn't pay much attention to what the lunatic human was doing to him, but just drifted along, satisfied that he was enjoying himself so much. Had he ever enjoyed himself as much in his life? The answer was obvious: never. And though somewhere in the back of his mind there was a thought that the sensation was pleasant but not familiar, it had not yet matured.

Having relaxed the walls of the cloaca a little with his tongue, George smeared his hands again with essential oil and began to insert his finger inside. He knew the inner structure of the dragon's cloaca by heart, so he quickly found a special spot that needed a little massage to bring out the main actor of the evening - the phallus, the functional analogue of the mammalian penis. The walls rhythmised to the beat of the heart and sliding over the lightly massaging fingers its tip peeked out. With each pulsation it grew larger and larger until it came out completely. It looked like a flexible smooth cone thinning towards the tip with occasional bumps along its length, about as long as human forearm, something like 25cm. There were two knots at its base locking it securely to the outside.

"Well hello there beauty!"

• George, what have you done? Why has it come out? - The dragon's voice shook a little. But not from aggression or irritation, he was very confused, not knowing how to react to the wave of new sensations that swept over him.

• This is my very special massage, friend, a very personal one.

• But it makes me feel very weird. I feel like I want to mate, but I can't smell any females around me.

• Have you ever been with a female?

• No. - but the way I feel...

• It feels wrong, am I right? - the man finished for him.

• Yes, it's like I'm feeling something I shouldn't.

• You're so pure. -The man smiled.

• Pure?

• Don't you like it when I massage you down there?

• ...

• Come on, no one will ever know,- the man whispered.

• Yeah, it feels good. Very... - the dragon lowered his head in embarrassment.

• Then relax and just drift, surrender to the flow, let yourself go. Because it's about to get even better, I promise.

Silverscaled obediently laid his head down on the pillow and closed his eyes. His heart was pounding with excitement and it felt like a spring was tightening. His mind was all jumbled up, he should have been thinking about the females but for some reason he thought about human hands.

"These soft hands make me feel so good".

Suddenly he found himself imagining the moment when he had wrapped his tongue around those human fingers. He reached for the bit with his tongue and began to stroke the warm metal bars imagining that they were the fingers that were massaging him inside right now.

Meanwhile George took the phallus with his hand and without stopping to massaging cloaca with the other he took it into his mouth.

The desire-inducing taste and smell of musk hit him in the head. The dragon phallus was something like a tongue, but much firmer and with a hole oozing slimy juice. He took it deeper and deeper into his mouth, then released it again, massaging the very tip with his tongue at that moment. Up and down, up and down.

"What a lovely smell and taste".

He let go of the tip and began to run his tongue down the shaft ever lower, circling the knots with his lips, first the left then the right. They were firm and fleshy like tense muscle. Then even lower, to the entrance to the cloaca. He withdrew his slightly squeezed fingers from the walls, and then the entrance closed. The phallus stretched the skin, making the walls bumpy and taut. George put his lips to the entrance, rubbing his tongue over the place where the walls tightly gripped the area just below the knots. A very deep barely audible rumble came from somewhere in front, the dragon wailed almost at infrasound.

"I can't take it anymore" the man jumped back and began frantically trying to pull down his leather trousers.

• George...

• I'll be with you in a moment my boy, please wait a moment, just a moment - freeing his almost painfully swollen cock at last, he threw himself back.

• We're going to have a very pleasant journey now. I will gently, how could I do something bad to such a boy, my boy, how could I... - His voice gradually changed to a whisper. He took the dragon's pre and lubed his cock with it, then put it to the entrance of the cloaca while taking the dragon's phallus in his hand.

• Yeah, just like that, just like that...

The tender red skin of the cloacal lips nipped the man's head pleasantly and he pushed forward through the wall-bumps that lightly touched it. Compared to the phallus, his penis, slippery from the dragon's secretions, was rather small, so it did not hurt his virgin cloaca but only massaged its walls. So gradually he entered fully, touching the warm scales with his testes. The throbbings squeezed and unsqueezed his penis as if playing with it.

"I'm inside the dragon. I'm actually inside the male dragon. This is the best day of my whole fucking life!"

He began thrusting his member in and out in time with the throbbing, while massaging the dragon's phallus.

• Do you like it when I'm like this?

Instead of answering, his whole body seemed to arch slightly, his wings flexed and his claws dug mercilessly into the nearest cushions. His tail thumped on the floor in time with the beat.

The rhythm was quickening. The cloaca now seemed to be trying to hold onto the man's penis and sucked it back in with a slapping sound.

The temperature inside was rising rapidly and George was getting a bit too hot. Silver breathed often, a spasm ran through his body and his teeth clenched with force. He felt that no matter what was happening to him, the spring that had been tensed to the limit was about to release. The man also felt his climax approaching and sped up. Suddenly the phallus tightened and shot a charge of seed somewhere upwards. The dragon shook and roared with all his might so that the man's ears popped. Seeing the young scaly creature shuddering with forbidden pleasure, George suddenly imagined for a second that this was his imaginary boyhood friend with whom he had longed to share a bed. And he smiled at him. The man groaned too and released. First from underneath and then from inside his head the blood began to pulse with great force, stronger and stronger each time until something exploded, spreading in waves all over his body.

While streams of dragon seed flew across the room and human seed lavished the cloaca, their souls were elsewhere, each in his own. Xozzy had managed to escape the hopeless labyrinth of his own perceptions of the world and himself for a short time. Now he was just sailing blindly through an ocean of uncharted sensations. And George believed for a second that he had died of a stroke and gone straight to heaven. But it didn't bother him at all because he didn't even have any thoughts. Just absolute clarity that didn't need to be put into any form or shape. He was just a delighted man. Happy as if he was back to being that student who just loved dragons with all his heart and naively dreamed of giving them freedom one day. Pour la baise au nom de la liberté! (For fucking in the name of freedom!)

Some would even say "a closure of an old gestalt" - but who's interested in that kind of stuff?

So they lay on the soft floor, slowly coming to their senses.

---

A naked man on all fours crawled up to the head of the dragon resting on its side and lay down beside him. Xozziasdyn stared at him.

• Would you like to play kissing? - asked the human.

• Stretch out your arm and get it close to me - he said quietly with only his lips.

When he grasped what dragon wished, he was about to chuckle knowingly, but when he saw the look in the reddish eyes his heart missed a beat. The fire of pride blazed in them again and the vertical slits of pupils searched for the slightest sign of mockery of his desire. George had realised with all clarity that even the shadow of a smile would cost him an arm. With a deadly serious expression on his face, he placed his palm into the opening toothy mouth. The tongue wrapped around the prey and dragged it in deeper, then the jaw closed. The teeth, however, barely touched his skin and it felt like light needle pricks. The pads of his fingers touched the different parts of his tongue wriggling around them and the slippery joints of the bridle. His mouth was especially hot now, literally and figuratively. The third eyelid closed, the menacing fire in his eyes faded.

"I want to lick that hand" - Past dreams of female cloacas now somehow vanished and were thrown away - "I don't care about anything, I just want to lick that human hand" - Only these plain thoughts were running through the dragon's mind right now. Licking it he savoured, the fingers responding to his every movement, and the rudimentary human clawnails only tickling the knobby surface of his tongue pleasantly.

George sat down and slowly settled the dragon's head in his lap, playing with his tongue. With his other hand he stroked his warm forehead, the skin next to the horns, ear-webbings, and just beyond the jaw joint where the skull ended and the softness began. The dragon was doing it willingly and without any pressure. Such intimacy caused a rush of tenderness in the man. He leaned down and kissed him on the forehead with just his lips.

Thus they sat for several minutes. It wasn't hard to see the curved phallus, the flexible tip of which was groping the air around it.

• Xozzy?

The response was a deep reptilian humming and clicking nasal sound that a human couldn't repeat even if he really wanted to. The meaning was obvious: an annoyed meow from a cat distracted from its toy.

• Xozzy, would you like to make you and me feel very good?

• Doesn't it feel good already, human? - the full-mouth dragon said without letting go of his hand.

• I really hate to interrupt you Xozzy but we don't have much time left - "...and celluloid film..." - and you haven't tried the last and the best game yet.

Dragon tongue wrapped around his hand and squeezed it tightly and with a sigh of disappointment he opened his jaw, released the profusely salivated hand. Then raised his head, looking questioningly at George. The latter, meanwhile, crawled over to the under-tail and sat down with his legs spread wide.

• Look, it's my penis.

• It's like a horse's, only much smaller - the dragon summarised his brief inspection.

• Fine, thanks - dick-measuring is a sore subject for humankind - but that's not what I'm talking about. The idea of the game is this: I'll put my penis against your phallus and you, well, take them both in your maw.

• You want me to lick my own member? This is kinda gross game don't you think?

• Haven't you ever done this before? That's odd. I read that this game is quite popular among dragonkind as well. It's just very, well, you know, private.

Xozzy turned the silver head on his neck sideways, examining his phallus intently.

George casually placed his hand on the spot between the knots and the cloaca and began to massage it lightly as he continued to speak.

• Think about it, if you've never tried it, how can you say it will be unpleasant?

• Well, it's.. I dunno, that doesn't seem right. I've heard females do that sometimes.. and one playful human weirdo.. But..

The truth was that he desired it. Was it a magical massage? Mighty de-stereotyping orgasm? The urge to taste those amusing tiny human balls? Or was it the "special" lemonade? Who knows? The fact is the lustful beast was already banging on the door in his head.

The man's ingratiating voice continued to seduce him:

• Your dragon ancestors are from The Archipelago, you are aquatic creatures, like dolphins you are drawn to the abyss. Fearlessly plunge into the sea of uncharted sensations and discover its secrets!

Such words are not meant to persuade, they are only needed to give the desired excuse. To grease the bearing.

• I... fear nothing...

• Then dive in!

George lifted one of the dragon's hind legs with his hand and crouched down so that their cocks touched. The tip of the phallus immediately wrapped itself around the man's penis like a tentacle. From the sight and the intense touches, penis tried to swell even more, but could not because of the compression. Then the feeling of pressure began to build up in the human's pelvic region.

• Not a fucking living soul, George.

The dragon daringly set his mouth on that twin spear, with a slimy sound, swirling both of them with his tongue. It was like a round dance for three. His tongue pressed a testicle into one of the phallus' bumps, playing with it.

• Holy shit, you're totally there!

His hand unwittingly rubbed over the scales of the long nose, then over forehead and grasped the strap of the bridle, pulling silver head even closer, forcing his nostrils into his groin. The dragon was so busy he didn't notice the saucy action. He inhaled the man's pheromones, and his tongue tasted his own and some unfamiliar salty flavour. He was greedily exploring that flavour, groping the two testicles in the leather pouch, rolling them over, playing with them. He also drove the head and tip over the grooved palate, squeezed them under his tongue, pressed them against the hot metal of the bit joint, pressed them against his gums, literally tried everything.

George was right, this game was indeed exciting. His spring was tensing again. And what particularly surprised him he also liked the pleasure he was bringing to this human being. He thought it could only be pleasurable to hurt or kill them, but this particular human, he wanted to enjoy his moans of not pain but delight.

In a burst of passion, he sent his tail coiling around George's body. It went round his waist, his chest, his neck and the arm with which he held his leg and squeezed it like a python squeezes prey. Something crunched. Xozzy stopped and quickly opened his eyes.

"Oh no. Have I broke him?"

George instinctively and quite impatiently thrust his pelvis.

The dragon closed his eyes with relief and continued his work with redoubled vigour. He hugged George with his free wing, covering him with his webbing.

"Come here my sodding knight" - he thought and stretching the tongue out of his mouth to lick human's crotch just below his scrotum, lightly pressing and stroking the soft bulge.

George grabbed the horn and threw his head back, rolling his eyes. The waves of ecstasy grew stronger because that naughty tongue touching him in a particularly pleasurable place. He was rapidly losing control of his body.

• I.. I'm going to cum!

Dropping the hind leg he found the base of the phallus with his freed hand, then the knots and lower down the heavily throbbing lips of the cloaca, slobbered fingers easily penetrated in and even deeper, quickly finding the coveted 'dragon-button'.

The dragon's pelvis jerked to meet these fingers. A ripple ran through the silver body, the tip of the phallus wrapped even tighter around the penis and shot straight down the dragon's throat. The human wasn't far behind, sending one load after another in the same direction. They groaned in a unison.

As the pressure eased, the dragon opened his mouth and laid his head on the soft floor in exhaustion. Then an exhausted man collapsed forward onto the floor, face pressed into the scaly chest. The wing covered him like a blanket.

Both breathed heavily, neither saying a word. Words were unnecessary because sex frees the mind.

---

Then there was a quick shower, during which George untied all the straps and removed the harness. Xozzy was so used to it that he even began to forget about it. His mouth was even missing something.

After wiping off the dragon he dressed himself in the leather armour again. Then took out a piece of deliciously juicy roasted ham from the locker. With a smile he threw it upwards. The dragon deftly caught it on the fly.

The meat juice splashing into his mouth silenced the question of the propriety of such liberties.

• Come on, you need to rest up for tomorrow's flight.

As they entered the gym room, the silverscaled saw a man pulling a huge dragon sleeping mattress with a quilted blanket out of a closet. He walked over and touched the mattress with his wing. It was springy.

• Why do you even make such things!?

The very sight of a soft item begging to be laid on.

• Believe it or not, you guys are pretty popular in the Republic.

• Pfff

He climbed onto the mattress and rolled onto his side. The sprung mechanism took the shape of his body. George covered him with a blanket.

• Xozzy?

• Mmm?

• May I sleep next to you?

After a pause, the dragon turned his head away in embarrassment and lifted the blanket with his wing. George jumped onto the mattress under his wing and snuggled back against his chest, hugging himself with his front paw. He pressed his deadly claws against his armour, right up to his heart. The scales on top of his palm were rough but warm.

• Good night.

Soon the silver one was breathing softly through his nose, and the man was falling asleep as well.

Tomorrow he would have a lot of work to do with the film. Of course he wouldn't sell the material, it was too personal for the common public. It's a very exclusive private piece, which means that only a privileged few will be able to see it, for a special favour. Including concession revision or something. Unlike George, for those decadents it's just the ultimate form of debauchery, nothing more. Then so be it. In George's world, in the world of the magnates and latifundists of the Republic, to get something you had to give something away.

---

When Xozzy woke up, he saw that the mattress next to him was empty. After washing up in the shower room and walking on his hind legs through the manege, he went outside. The table and the pile of cushions were in their old places. George was already placing plates of food on the table and waved hello. This time it was smoked squid and fig beer.

• Food for the true divers.

The dragon yawned with his mouth open as much as possible, as if to show it to the man that he had neither the strength nor the will to respond to vulgar innuendo.

They ate in silence at the table. When he had finished eating, he took his bag and began to fasten it to his hip. He took out his fob watch, there were 5 hours left before the visa expired.

• Xozziasdyn, I'm really glad you flew to visit me. I have really enjoyed our...

The dragon gave him a stern look.

• ...fruitful co-operation. You've done well, please give our black friend this parcel. I'm sure he'll like the contents. - he handed a medium sized box of thin plywood to the dragon.

• Customs won't hold it up?

• Oh come on, we're professionals. You have Diplomatic Visa, no one's gonna lay a finger on you.

"Lay a finger. Stop teasing me, George" - seeing his smile thought the dragon.

• And this is from me personally, printed in Clawrite. A memento. - He held out the book. There was an old watercolour picture glued to the cover: A man in armour standing next to a dragon with his arms hugging the dragon's neck, both of them staring off into the distance.

• Nonsense - he said turning away embarrassed, but putting the book into his bag. - Well George, I wish you luck. I'm off.

He stood up on four legs, sprinted, jumped and started to gain altitude by working hard with his wings.

"You got a hell of an mission for me Curator Banag. And you know what? I won't tell you shit. We drank fig beer and talked about the weather. That's it. To think of what I had to do yesterday... The man forced me, didn't he? Left me no choice. Or not... Damn humankind, the insanity of their race is starting to drive me crazy too. Why else do I feel like I'm starting to have a bond with George? Ridiculous. With an enemy. An oppressor. With one so... so soft... George. Fuck!"

The only thing he's sure of now is that he has to give the box to the black one, hide the book in his shack, and then get drunk. The harder the better.

---

The chief of the reservation, an old red dragon, sat on the soft floor of his office near his carved desk, poring over documents. Music from a newfangled tube radio played in the background. The former captain looked more like a clerk now, and his violent past was revealed only by the ugly scars on his webbing and the broken pattern of the plates on his chest. The marks of wounds from human harpoons and buckshots.

A weighty wad of currency dropped on the papers.

The red one flinched, lifted his head and smiled benevolently.

• Aah Banag, sneaky bastard, well, have a sit, have a sit. So what have we got here - he wingclawed through the freshly made banknotes and with a practised movement hid them in the safe under the table.

-You know, your 'patronage' is really keeping this sorry tub afloat. - He spoke in a low, husky voice. - So, is that true you sold the new guy to our pervert, huh?

• It's good for the lad. Might clear his head of some of that idealistic crap. Aay.

• Oh be sure, be sure. I'll bet that human cur was quite pleased with our secret 'gaywhore' agent - Red hissed with a hoarse, snarling laugh and went on - I'm hoping for a copy in a month, huh? I'll borrow a film projector in the meantime.

• They say this particular footage is for the eyes of his oligarch cronies only, so it'll be difficult, but I'll try my Captain.

• Attaboy - he opened a drawer and took out two glass tubes and a box of a dubious-looking grey powder - humankind, dragonkind they say - he put a particularly contemptuous emphasis on the word 'kind'. - Only a crew player who knows how to make the right friends survives, that's how I see it. Help yourself mate.

Both dragons slid the tubes into their nostrils and sucked in the powder.

• Pour la liberté! - wheezed Red.

• Pour la liberté! - replied hoarsely Black.