FSE

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Sand and small rocks fly as Lyn charges forward on her seikret, raising a heavy horn of steel and bone onto her shoulders as the sounds of monster roars get closer, echoing across the sandy landscape with only shrubs and rock formations to disrupt the dunes. A red flare had shot off a few minutes ago in the direction she's headed, and Lyn is well aware Desty likes to bite off more than she can chew. Dressed in a brightly colored cloak to ward off the hot desert sun and a set of leather armor reinforced with plate, the huntress rides aboard a large mount equally as colorful.

With a beak, crest of feathers, and a tail ending in a large fan of gold, her mount, Yskra, is a mottled mixture of white and black strips, each color dappled with its converse. His plumage is dense and long, lying flat with the heat of the day bearing down on them. Cresting a hill, the two see Desty narrowly dancing around an arkeveld, blade and shield flashing and striking the rocky scales of the big wyvern but only succeeding in creating sparks. Even heating her sword within the shield's reactor doesn't make much more of a dent. She didn't bring a seikret with her, so there's no way she could outrun the big bastard even if she did try to retreat. Lyn suspects no such attempt would be made regardless.

“Underprepared as usual, I see," The pangolin declares as Yskra carries her forward and, with a signal, suddenly grinds to a halt and swings his head upward, launching her high into the air.

A high-pitched blast of the horn draws the wyvern's attention away from Desty just in time to look up and receive a crushing smash to the side of the head, causing it to recoil with a surprised grunt and back up a few paces while it regards the new arrival.

“Desty dear, if my notes need sharpening, so does your blade!" Lyn smirks at her and thuds her weighty horn onto the ground in preparation for playing.

“This thing wouldn't give me the chance!" The feathered dragon scoffs, already pulling out her whetstone and getting to it. “Y'know, one day you should try fighting a monster instead of giving it tinnitus with your oversized vuvuzela!"

“Oh, it's on now, girlie! I'm keeping the choice carve off this thing."

“Like hell you are!"

“Then fight like you want it. Here he comes again!"

Playing a shrieking tune, Lyn expects the monster to cringe away at the sound, but instead it just swings harder. The beast walks on four limbs with gliding wings along the front legs, almost like a bat but if the arms evolved to stay fully opposable and capable of smashing stone. White fur grows along the underside of its neck, and perhaps counterintuitively, along the wings as well, the rest of its scaling a granite grey and appearing as if formed from a mountain. Its plating is thick and grows into spikes along the head and back like peaks, two curving horns and a myriad of plating forming a veritable 'helmet' around its head.

To top it all off, tendrils of sinew connecting rocky plates form long opposable chains that whip out at a moment's notice, one along each wing, and one such one slams into Lyn with the force of a tumbling boulder. The pangolin is sent flying with a gasp, barely keeping a grip on her weapon and hurtling several feet back and into the ground. It's lucky she did, the second chain of the beast swinging over the empty air where she was a moment before. The beast then rears up and brings them slamming down on the pangolin, Desty at the last moment throwing herself into the mix and interposing her heavy shield between the lethal strike and her friend.

The impact knocks her almost straight into the dust, just barely able to remain standing by falling into a deep crouch position, and Lyn hauls herself onto her feet with a quick thanks before tossing a pouch of revivifying powder in the air. Their bruises melt away and the two stand back up confidently. That is, until the monster takes a deep breath and lets out a deafening roar that rattles them to the bones, physically causing the sand to momentarily pulse under their feet.

Red energy crackles through the tendrils, and both Desty and Lyn look at each other, realizing playtime's over.

“Lock in girlie, this is about to get rou–" Desty is cut off but the beast whirling around and striking the two of them with its tail, a quick maneuver they weren't expecting.

Tumbling back into the sand with heavy thuds, the two are still reeling from the blow as it leaps into the air, screaming down into the earth just a few feet in front of them with a white glow suffusing its limbs. That glow is injected into the sand, and the next thing they know, the ground heaves under them and they're sent skyward. Their armor just barely protects them from the resulting explosion, bits of metal and glass from their tool kits sent flying in all directions as they're flung over a sand dune and begin rolling down it.

The arkveld is already pouncing over the dune, ready to close in for the kill, before a certain seikret runs through a nearby swarm of flashflies. Alarmed, the insects let out a blinding flash of light just as Yskra clears the swarm, blinding the wyvern and causing it to thrash at empty air as the mount quickly picks up its shell-shocked riders and flees over the sandbanks out of sight. The beast tries to give chase, but it is not as fast weighed down by all its heavy scales and falls behind.

Within a few minutes, the seikret reaches a rocky shelf and retreats into a cave mouth too small for the arkveld to follow, giving Yskra enough time to fling off his saddle bags and scrabble around in them with his short arms before finding healing potions. With a click, the lids open and he unceremoniously dumps it on the two with a splash, enough soaking into their skin they snap back to reality.

“Wha– where?" Lyn blurts out, looking around herself rapidly before realizing they're now in a nearby cave system where the monster can't reach them. “Oh. It's over. Thank fuck."

With a sigh, the pangolin flops over again, every joint hurting and her weapon nowhere to be seen. The same goes for Desty, the difference being she has a potion left on her person that didn't break on the impact and drinks it down. As for their weapons, they agree they'll have to retrieve them after the beast leaves the area.

“Right," Desty says as she wipes her mouth, flipping the container shut. “Well, that sucked! Thanks for the save, big guy."

Yskra lets out a chiding huff, accepting the offered treat she pulls from her pouch nonetheless and allowing her to scratch under his chin. Heaving herself to sit up and then stand, Yskra leans down for her to be able to put the saddlebags back along his back and mount. Desty follows suit and the two ride back to a nearby camp set up in the caves, snipping back and forth along the way.

“What possessed you to fight that thing?" Lyn frowns at Desty. “You have enough weird hats as it is!"

“Lyn, I need you to understand some of us are born without thick plating and need this novel thing called a 'helmet'," Desty ripostes, “And it wasn't that bad until you pissed it off!"

“Oh, so this is my fault?"

“I'll accept I bit off more than I could chew... but you poured oil on that fire."

“But you were the one who started the fire, right?"

“A campfire that was turned into a forest fire, maybe!"

“Oh, you're impossible!"

Yskra lets out an annoyed growl that goes unheard by the two as they row verbally back and forth all the way to camp. Thankfully for him, the two immediately take it into the tent to strip off their armor where their voices are at least muffled.

“You didn't even oil the leather on your armor? Are you trying to make it turn brittle! When I said unprepared, I didn't think you were doing it on purpose!" Lyn yells.

“Oh, I'll show you 'UnDErPRepArED', ya hoity toity cow!" Desty shouts back.

“Woe is me, what are you gonna do with a capture net – WOAH, HEY!"

A tussle erupts between the two of them and shortly thereafter Desty comes out of the tent in her underclothes with a nude and tied up Lyn on one shoulder and a cloth bundle in the other.

“Put me down you little freak!" Lyn scoffs indignantly.

“Oh, sure will," Desty replies mischeviously as she rolls out the padded cloth tarp onto the cave floor to make a cushioned ground as Yskra stands up to observe the going-ons. “Hey, big guy! I felt it was only fair that she returned the favor. You know, for all the rides you've given her."

With that, she unceremoniously plops the pangolin on the tarp, and there's not much more she can do but glower at Desty as Yskra steps forward and begins to fuss over his beloved rider. He sniffs at the bonds, looks at Desty, and seems to make a decision before stepping over Lyn. His claws clip the rope around her arms easily enough and he raises her onto her arms and legs. Both Lyn and Desty think the seikret is going to let her go, and then his tapered penis, having slid free of its slit, begins to warmly grind against her tail before he reaches down and lifts it up.

“Whoa-no! Bad boy! Not right now!" Lyn commands him, but he doesn't listen much and instead leans down to half lay, half crouch over her, letting out a purring rumble in her ear.

“Isn't that a mating call for them?" Desty taunts as she sits down on a chair nearby and places a camp grill from her supplies down, well pleased with herself. “Just how familiar is this position for you?"

“Oh, quiet you…" Lyn sighs, melting as her mount begins to gently grope her breasts with his talons and nuzzle into her neck.

“Ohhh, it seems the answer is very!" Desty snickers, placing meat and mushrooms in the pan with a lid to cook while she leans back and watches. “But alright, I'll shut my trap and let you pretend you have privacy."

Knowing at this point Yskra is stopping for nothing and nobody, especially while she's held helplessly in his clutches, Lyn decides to lean into it and feels a flush of warmth as his length begins to rub softly against her labia. Knowing that he's in a rut as it is and kept making signs he wanted to put an egg in her belly already had her a little hot and bothered, and now that she's in such a compromising position and he's going to get what he wants, regardless of her opinion on the matter, is much more of a turn on than she's willing to admit.

Just as Lyn knows Yskra, he knows her and strokes and croons in ways that leave her dripping from her snatch before long. Then and only then does he strike, pinning her head against the floor with his plush tail placed underneath as a pillow, the tip of his cock aligning with her nether lips and pressing inward. The pangolin lets out a moan as his tip breaches her vagina and then begins to sink in. Slowly, the beast takes his time going inch after inch into her, his rider stretched wide around him and beginning to mumble something about 'too much' and 'big'.

It doesn't really matter because it only takes a few more moments before he hilts her, letting out a deep rumble as he enjoys the feeling of a warm, wet hole to finally sheathe his desires in. It is an overwhelming amount of stimulation for Lyn, feeling wholly filled and stretched to her limits with how much she shudders along it being the only thing in her control.

One could argue she can also control the noises she makes, but that more or less comes naturally to her as she huffs at first in frustration and then amatorially as all that cock being stuffed into her hits every pleasure point because, well, it's hitting every point. And it does so again and again as he slides out a little and then thrusts into her. A little more afterwards, so on and so forth until he works her up to taking half his length in each hump.

Her legs begin to shake, and as gallant as any man could be, he presses his weight down until she falls into a laying position where he can hook his arms up under her shoulders and simultaneously hold her up whilst also pinning. Now she doesn't have to bare any of his weight, and it is in this manner he thoroughly enjoys the noises and words she says, almost resistant at first but rapidly crumbling to his will before she finally relaxes entirely. That's not to say she becomes a pillow princess; her grip is tight along his feral length, welcoming his member invading her depths as he enters and tightening as he pulls out, working the mount up even more.

His breathing and humps get faster, harder, and Lyn is reduced to gasping and yelping ashamedly into her arms as her juices begin to slip past the tight seal of Yskra's girth, painting the floor in her cum. The scent of it reaches his nostrils and with a final, deep thrust, his tip presses against her cervix and his first shot of cum fires directly into her womb. As does the second, third, and many, many others. Pent up as he was, she is utterly filled to the brim with his warmth, even more spilling free in a small deluge as the seikret lets out soft purrs and rubs his head against hers with little involuntary thrusts of his pulsing dick sending thrills up her spine.

Lyn's eyes blink open as he pulls out of her, feeling empty in a very fulfilling way and his semen draining from her sex as Yskra stands up and looks very pointedly at a Desty more concerned with her meal. She lifts the lid of the pan to reveal her finely cooked steak and is about to dig in when the seikret steps forward and neatly hooks his beak onto the meat. With a flick of his neck, it flies into the air, and he snaps it up, licking his lips.

“Gah! That wasn't for you too, ya greedy guts!" She scowls, not realizing the nature of his gaze until his claws grip her shoulders next. “Wait, no! What are you do – LYN!"

The dragon cries out as she's lifted and pressed into the tarp alongside Lyn, the pangolin having exactly zero pity and even less remorse as she replies coyly with, “Whattaya want me to do?"

“Tell him to get off!" Desty snaps as he casually tears her briefs off. “I'm not a size queen like you!"

“Uh-huh. Tell you what," Lyn smirks, patting Yskra to catch his attention so he can lean a little to the side and allow her to lazily reach up into one of the saddlebags, pulling out a small container of bright, cream colored fluid and setting it down in front of her. “That'll make it easier."

“A stamina potion? You're the worst," Desty sighs as she takes it and swallows it in one go.

Yskra is feeling polite enough to wait for her to finish before promptly grabbing her chest and flipping onto his back. Held tightly against his abdomen, her position seems more comfortable at first but very quickly becomes obvious as to why he chose this as she's forced down on his still-hard cock. Despite her vocal protesting, she's already wet from watching the show and the mount's cum slicked length slides into her snatch easily enough. She can't comfortably fit him, but in this case her comfort is not his concern.

Lyn got off easy because she feeds, brushes, and cares for him with a lot more effort than an average rider. His grievances with her sparked from the loud, annoying argument are wholly resolved. Desty, on the other claw, has only a small snack given to him working in her favor. Not only has she been rather vexing this entire misadventure for the same reasons as Lyn, she also got physical with his rider against her wishes. The only reason he didn't start with Desty for that was because he wanted to breed his rider too greatly, but with that achieved, a reckoning has come. A hard, pounding one.

Desty receives the mercy of roughly a dozen gentle pumps along his cock before she's forced to ride his full length while held, a small bump visible along her belly as his length maps every inch of her vaginal canal and practically impresses the shape of his dick into it in the process. Desty yelps with each thrust, not used to being plowed by men twice her size. Not that the cheeky dragoness is having a bad time. Yskra may think he's punishing the little brat, but in reality, he's teaching her all the wrong lessons.

Granted it is a rough ride at first, Desty quickly acclimates and soon grinds her hips into each thrust, but that doesn't sit well with the seikret. Determined to make this a punishment somehow, he flips her over and mounts her doggishly where he can better breed her. Setting a fast, uncompromising pace, he pounds her depths as he bites down on her scruff, head down, ass up, ignoring her cries to Lyn to order him to slow down.

Unfortunately for her, Yskra can smell her arousal and the juices produced by her sudden orgasm running down her leg. The scent of her pleasure is how he controls his pace, just enough to be bruising but not enough to cause pain and ruin the experience. With one final huff, he impales her on his dick fully and fires off shot after shot into her most intimate places. Whereas with Lyn it was slow and loving, he keeps thrusting as he cums, fucking Desty into a shuddering, sloppy pile dripping with his seed as he pulls out and shoots that last of his load across her back.

“Hah!" Lyn snorts tiredly. “That's what you get."

“Mother. Fuckin'. Worth it," Desty breathes, slumping as she basks in her afterglow.

“Good to see you like it; he's now your problem too."

“Don't threaten me with a good time," Desty hums lazily before drifting off into unconsciousness, making Lyn sigh.

“She'll never change," Lyn says to Yskra, the seikret seeming to nod understandingly as he pulls out of the dragon and curls warmly around his master.

To her credit, Lyn takes the time to clean Desty up with a corner of the tarp before pulling her into the pile lest exposure take her, Yskra's tail curling around the two of them.

“What am I going to do with you?" Lyn chuckles.

As an answer, Yskra lets out a deep, rumbling purr, and the two share a knowing side eye and a grin.

“Maybe… you're now her problem entirely? And I just return the mounting as is reasonable?" The pangolin suggests.

The mount considers her offer for a moment, weighing pros and seeing no cons, before giving her an affirmative nod, sealing the deal.