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There was only so much practice Remy could do. The crow was a talented magician, gifted in his studies and almost boundless in his potential, but he was never going to truly know what he was capable of until he tested himself. Reciting an incantation in the safety of his workshop was one thing. Having to do so while under pressure, when there were real stakes was something else entirely. It was time for an adventure.

The nervous young bird wasn’t fond of using his magic [i]on[/i] anyone, but maybe he could simply use it to remain undetected and unharmed. Going through his various maps eventually directed him to one particular cavern. A dark place, unpopular with adventurers simply for its distance from the nearest tavern. A little teleportation would help him take care of that. Gathering up his supplies, including his robe, potion satchel, and other essentials, the corvid eventually stepped into his portal room to begin the travel process.

It took him a minute or two to get his breathing steady. There was no reason to be so worried. He’d already mentally navigated every possible scenario, and prepared an according spell. On paper, he was ready for anything. It was still going to be dangerous, but he was never going to be a real wizard if he didn’t know how to cast spells under duress. One more deep breath, and he chanted himself a portal, stepping through to depart from his crumbling family estate and into the wild.

The cave was far from a yawning mouth. That entrance required even the fairly diminutive bird to duck his head slightly just to get in. That was a good sign. It meant nothing especially enormous would be slumbering in there. His fear of confined spaces was also quickly assuaged when he stepped inside. A simple spell of dark-seeing and he was gazing at the expansive tunnel system within, with its multiple chambers branching off from the entrance. Such a place seemed far too complex to be naturally made - and the voices and shuffle of steps nearby soon tipped him off to its occupants.

There was no mistaking the sound of kobolds. They had a distinct way of speaking. It was mostly in the yips. Quickly conjuring up some thicker shadows to conceal his robed self, Remy crouched down and simply observed the goings-on for a while. The voices were getting closer, and they weren’t the only ones. It was a veritable community of small reptiles in there, all of them strolling this way and that, rushing around to complete some task or other. The only place such creatures gathered with such purpose was the lair of a dragon, Remy realized. Maybe he just used the service entrance.

While he was adept at remaining concealed with his spells, the bustle was far too much for him to get a good look at his surroundings. If he really wanted to plan his route, then he was going to have to try something different. It wasn’t the first nor second of his many plans, being both devious and dangerous, but it struck him in the moment. He might have dismissed it outright for the risks it presented if the whole point of his excursion wasn’t to test himself. He began to softly chant, as quietly as he could - an unnecessary caution given how noisy it was in there. Stepping between realms allowed him to view the inhabitants of the cave from a whole new perspective, seeing their minds at work, sparking, signalling. He sought out the simplest one he could find.

Narrowing down such a category to a winner was a difficult task in a kobold cave. Especially when they were all so blindly devoted to their dragon. Eventually he just picked one who happened to be alone. That would make it easier. She was a distance from him, but as long as he focused and made sure to recite the words just right, he could easily leap through the mental realm and enter the mind of the creature, to possess her from afar and use her as his eyes. He began the incantation.

Halfway through his magic words, a rumble rose from somewhere deep within the cave. It shook the very walls, bringing dust down from above like the whole place was one wrong move away from collapse. Remy felt something creep in. To be buried under all that rock would have been among the worst fates he could imagine. Trapped, helpless, unable to move or speak to magically whisk his way out of there ... and to think, he had told no one of his intended destination. The anxiety brought just enough of a tremble from him to make him misspeak. Surely such a complex spell would simply miscast from such a mistake, and not -

Remy felt himself hurling through the cave as if it had suddenly changed its orientation, as if gravity had shifted. He felt so very small. While he couldn’t feel the wind rushing past him, he was still aware of the speed of his travel somehow. It was harrowing. He would have been losing feathers if he was still his solid self, but he had become something else. Tumbling and plummeting towards his destination, he came to an abrupt halt with a feeling like hitting the bottom of a deep, dark pit. The impact didn’t seem to break his body. He found himself vaguely aware of the kobold leaping up to her feet, clutching at her head as if she’d just been pelted by a rock.

“Who threw that! Skrav will find you!” she shrieked, swirling around, waving her thick tail with each motion.

The more she moved, the more Remy could slowly feel out his new reality. He didn’t like the implications. Perhaps he had died. If so, his remaining thoughts either disproved that theory, or proved a terrible notion about the afterlife he had once suspected. There were too many things to feel and notice for it to be oblivion, anyway. The persistent sensation of nothingness felt as if he was tumbling in a carriage running over rocky terrain, tossed about without any sense of what was up or down. The sound of her voice, to him a thunderous bellow, was still resonating through him, a weight pulling him through the void. It made it so very hard to think.

He had some sense of the walls around him without being certain where they began or ended. There was a constant pressure on him that wasn’t quite physical. It was more like a constant, oppressive gaze from all sides. It broke his concentration and kept him from orienting himself in any coherent direction. His focus was a well-trained thing though, and in time he began to come upon the realization of Skrav’s arms and legs. They were hers, and his alike, for at least a moment. Yet it was far from a possession he’d managed to pull off. He had no control over her whatsoever.

The echo of her rambling inner monologue threatened to drown him. A thought among many others - vulnerable to being totally forgotten if he didn’t somehow make his presence known to her. What was supposed to have been a simple possession spell had rendered him merely a passenger in that small creature’s body. Taking a moment to stop tumbling through his uncertain reality and determine what he could still do, what he still [i]was[/i], he eventually found his voice.

“Wait! This wasn’t supposed to happen!”

“Who said that!” The kobold’s voice was even louder. She pointed accusingly at the corners of the chamber, but there was no one else there. “Not very funny, playing tricks on Skrav ...”

The terror was an ocean, just waiting to submerge Remy if he allowed it to. Instead, he did his best to remain rational about the situation.

“Skrav, is it? Okay. Listen to me. You are, um ... I have chosen you, because you’re very special.”

The kobold’s eyes lit up, shining with the kind of adoration that left her standing up tall on her toes, looking like she was about to float away entirely.

“M-Mistress?” she asked, her voice soft, only to growl her disapproval. “No. You’re not her. Sound nothing like her. Nice try! Skrav is too smart for your stupid tricks.”

“Okay, nevermind, just ...”

He blinked, or he attempted to anyway. In complete darkness, it was impossible to tell if his eyes were open or closed, or if he even had them anymore. There was no sense of place. He might have been stuck in time itself, but he couldn’t accept that. He concentrated, hard, with whatever was left of him. With enough strain and focus, he found himself looking at the world through the kobold’s eyes. Her vision in the dark was keener than his, at least. Yet following the motions of her head without any way of influencing them was going to make him sick. There must have been some part of him that was still tangible, some part of him that could still summon up his magic and get him back into his own body - wherever it existed at the moment, if it did at all.

Concentrating, he found himself, navigating the mind in which he dwelt like the world’s easiest labyrinth. There wasn’t much in the way of focus or understanding to be found there. The kobold had absolutely no knowledge of magic, nor did she contain any of it inherently. She was as mundane as a stone, and he wasn’t going to be able to cast his way out of that situation. Not without teaching her how to do it. The activity got the kobold suspicious, flooding Remy with confused, cautious energy that threatened to drown him out.

“Wait. Wait! Skrav understands now. She feels you in there, squirming around. That is not your head. What do you think you’re doing?”

“That’s ... that’s right!’ Remy was admittedly surprised she had figured out that much. “I’m stuck in here for now, but with your help ...”

He wasn’t sure how to describe the sudden rush of sensation he experienced then. Deafening was the first word that sprang to mind, but it wasn’t a sound. He was feeling the kobold’s emotions directly from the source. They rushed by and swarmed him like an immune system, leaving him briefly flooded by the embodiment of her devious, unadulterated joy. The tide threatened to wash him away if he didn’t exert his will strongly enough.

“Stuck? [i]Stuck![/i]” Skrav gave an excited giggle, bouncing up and down. “So helpless, so weak, so [i]mine![/i] I have always wanted a pet ...”

“That’s not how ...” Remy began.

“First step! You go silent!” The kobold waved a hand like she really was going to cast a spell.

Most concerningly, it worked. Remy couldn’t speak with her any longer. His imagined beak was sealed, leaving him simply floating inside her mind as if awaiting her orders. Her thoughts were her own to control, and he was part of them, getting bashed around by the phantasmagoria of excitement and mischief running through her head at the realization. The world around him slowly faded more and more with every passing moment. He lost track of where she was, and where she was going, unable to tell that she had long since stood up and started walking around to continue her duties tending to the dragon’s lair. Having a new mental passenger was no excuse to disappoint her beloved Mistress. She could think about him more when she was done.

She could go on as usual like there was absolutely nothing unusual going on inside her head the whole time. No one was going to know he was there but for the two of them. Remy found himself standing straight, stiff, stretched out for her to examine. He posed for her as she desired, slowly getting rotated so she could examine him from every angle. For as simple a mind as he thought she’d be, she was surprisingly adept at visualizing him. On some level, he felt her clawed fingers stroking him, touching his feathers to get a sense of their texture, tugging and stretching out his limbs to see which ways he could bend. He was already little more than a plaything for her.

It took her so little time to go from examining him, from conforming all his details, to something more devious. Remy could feel it flaring up inside her, like a warmth. The lust for power and dominance running through her thoughts was a blaze, and it wasn’t getting any less intense when she manifested in her thoughtscape to show herself to him at last - at least how she saw herself. In her thoughts, Skrav was immense, radiating a potent energy. She was also even thicker around the hips. That all came in handy when she visualized herself striding forth towards his captive form, shaking ground with every step, and dropping her rump right atop him all at once.

In the real world, someone that big would have crushed him instantly, coming down that hard. She landed on him with a slamming butt-drop and stayed on top of his squished-down form as long as she liked, grinding him into the floor. He was cartoonishly flat beneath her weight, listening to her giggle, kicking her legs with delight atop him. There wasn’t exactly pain involved. The flares of pleasure she got from thinking about him that way, from utterly overpowering and dominating him were like fireworks in the sky, illuminating the imagined scene,

When she got bored of sitting on him, she stood up tall and raised a foot. Remy was allowed, at least, to slowly pick himself from the ground, struggling and staggering. She made him tilt his head back to stare at her sole before she brought it down on him. Hard. Again, she would have crushed him in reality, but she imagined him simply collapsing and conforming tightly to the shape of her scaled paw. When she figured out how to give him a little more autonomy, she even let him struggle, sticking his feathered arms up between her toes in an effort to squirm out from beneath her.

Keeping a kobold’s attention for long was all but impossible for anyone who wasn’t a dragon. The moment another whim popped into her head, it was happening. From pinned beneath her feet, he was suddenly in one of her hands without any apparent transition. She squeezed him until it felt like he would pop, but she didn’t imagine it going that far. Then she was tossing him around like a ball, or squeezing him between his eyes, leaving him blinking between those torments until it was starting to feel like he was in two places at once. Her giggles were ever-present.

“Skrav can do this any time she likes. You’re going to be my favourite new imaginary friend! I am going to get so good at thinking about you. Maybe you’ll even call me Mistress. Yes?”

She tried it out. Or, Remy did. He couldn’t stop the words from leaving his beak, even half-crushed beneath one of her great big kobold paws.

“Yes, Mistress.”

“See! You are a very good idea. Doing exactly what I think you should do. And you’d better! Or maybe I think something really bad! Or I just ... don’t think about you at all.”

The realization of how much power she truly had was more apparent in her voice with each syllable. She said that with a cruel grin, knowing just how much it would frighten her passenger to consider such a thing. The halls of her mind were ever-shifting, and if she stopped focusing on him for long enough, they could have easily silenced him, erased him and whatever was left of the soul he’d transferred into her mind. Consuming him entirely was as easy as neglecting him. He couldn’t even beg for her to let him go if she didn’t want him to. Somewhere deep within himself he was banging on the walls for release, but in her mind, he was nothing but a soft and fluffy foot-toy for her to squish and step all over.

When she finally allowed him up, he was different. He managed only a brief glance down at himself, but the situation was clear enough. She’d already forgotten what colour he was supposed to be. It was as if she’d stomped it right out of him. In place of his usual violet-toned black plumage, he had turned a distinct blue instead. He fought to try to will himself back to his usual shade, but it wouldn’t come. He wasn’t even sure he remembered it himself. If she couldn’t, then he couldn’t either. Everything relied on her. She wouldn’t even let him speak to remind her that something wasn’t right. If she could so carelessly transform him like that, there was no telling what else she would do to him without even meaning to.

Just as dangerous as her having direct focus on him were the idle moments when she half-remembered him. He found himself batting away the possible responses to her conversations with the other kobolds - all the words she filtered out, left to accumulate all around him. She probably had no idea he was helping her form her sentences, nor did any of those who listened to her understand why she was more eloquent than usual. Her musings manifested all around him, plunging him into the centre of all new lands, all new scenarios, dressed up as if for a play. It was probably for the best that she had such a limited frame of reference for the world outside the cave.

It wasn’t just the absence of night and day that left Remy fully uncertain of how long he’d spent as part of the kobold’s mind. He simply couldn’t perceive time like he used to. Skrav certainly didn’t think about it much. She stuck strictly to her schedule, completing her duties as usual. Or at least Remy assumed she was, from the glimpses of her thoughts he caught. Much of it was an automatic process by that point. When she’d memorized her surroundings so well, she didn’t have to picture them, and so Remy remained effectively blind, trapped down there in the deep, dark box of her mind.

The isolation was maddening to the point her presence was briefly welcome. Yet the moment he saw her as she was seeing herself by then, he knew he was in for trouble. Skrav had made a dragoness of herself, towering and regal, turning her dirt-coloured scales into a glinting copper. He gazed upon her and admired her because she wanted him to. All it took was a glance from the imagined dragon-self and he was on his knees as if before a goddess. She didn’t leave him there for long.

Plucking him up from the ground, she seemed to grow even larger while she lifted him to her face. Perhaps he was shrinking instead. It was impossible to tell when she hadn’t bothered to imagine a background for their interaction. It was a blank void, where he dangled from her fingers, kicking and struggling all of a sudden. She wanted that to happen too, but she’d left him enough free will to choose it for himself. Her breath was hot over his face, sweltering with every puff. She was probably imagining how it felt to have her own dragon huff on her, he realized.

“Yes, yes. You see Skrav now! She is so powerful compared to you. I bet she could eat you up and never think about you again! Dragons don’t have to think about stupid little prey like you!”

Merely considering it was enough to make the scene flicker briefly, as if an illusion was about to break. It was worse than that. For as long as Skrav was pondering consuming her own thought, her own captive idea of a small, tormentable bird, Remy’s existence appeared in question. His body briefly faded, blinking in and out of sight, giving him some small taste of what Skrav imagined to be the void, only to catapult him straight back into the palm of the dragoness, thankful at least to exist, even if the circumstances were getting worse with every impulse of the kobold’s mind.

It was impossible for the kobold to actively, intentionally forget about anything, and that included a figment of her imagination. If she truly wanted to be rid of him, she had to simply let him drift away, to distract herself with other, more important things as if he was never really there. In whatever form he was. Yet she could certainly simulate what it [i]might[/i] feel like. The approximation, however crude, was horrifyingly realistic to experience on Remy’s side of things.

He’d already experienced what it was like to flicker in between states, to drift between her whims and come so very close to splitting into multiple versions of himself. It got worse. He found himself at the same time in her hands, clutched tight and taunted with his potential end as he was between her teeth, getting idly chewed upon. Along with that, he was already deep inside her belly, tasting what it meant to be erased as she actively digested him down to nothing, only to think about doing it again, and again, dwelling on the destructive moment, on the highlights of the pleasure it gave her. Even as he persisted within her mind, he sampled true oblivion for as long as her simple mind tried to grasp it.

“Or maybe I keep you forever! Nothing you can do about it! You can make your little chirps all you like.”

As if on cue, Remy opened his beak to let out a smattering of birdsong unlike any noise he’d ever made. Those weren’t crow sounds. She didn’t know any better. Gripping him and turning him upside down, then flipping him around to flop on his face across her palm, she examined him from every angle, trying to remember all the details. Remy felt himself shifting all over, growing thinner, then wider. He was blue and then black again, only to turn stark white all over. She eventually settled on a solid purple that was similar to his usual undertone, just much more pronounced. And on giving him a bigger butt, one which made her drool just to look at.

“So tasty looking though ... I wonder if you’re better than the rocks ...”

The heat only grew more intense when she opened up wide and stuck out her tongue. The [i]schlicccik[/i] of that wet appendage extending told him exactly how slobbery it was. Remy found himself drenched in a second, dragon spit pooling in Skrav’s curled palm. A long, slow drag over his transformed body could have imparted any taste at all, as far as he was concerned. She probably didn’t have any frame of reference for his actual flavour, but the way she was drooling on him said she was enjoying it. Her concentration, her attempt at imagining what he might truly taste like, if he was real, left him immersed in a cloud of her emotions. She was trying so very hard, and it was nearly suffocating him.

“Scrumptious little thought-bird ... such a good little idea, all to myself ...”

She was doing well at understanding the whole thing. If she was a little less attuned to the situation, Remy might have been able to manipulate her. Instead, he found himself slathered up and smeared in her spit until his feathers were damp down to his skin. He sputtered and struggled, but even for [i]him[/i], he felt weaker than ever. His arms felt frail, as if she was sapping his very muscles, imagining them away. His legs got the same treatment. At that point, he wasn't even sure if he could stand. She was imagining him so pathetic, so helpless that it became so. His vision blurred into fragments when he took on some insectoid traits without warning. The insignificance she projected upon him was becoming reality. At least she allowed him the freedom to scream out when she suddenly curled her tongue around his waist and pulled him into her mouth.

“I wonder if I think about eating you good enough, if it’ll be like it really happened ... if I could make you [i]gone,[/i]” She spoke perfectly clearly even with her mouth full of him, and with audible reverence for the idea. If she could make him stop existing, it was like she really was a dragon. Then she shook her head, with him inside her mouth. “Maybe I miss you, though. I could make you go away and then bring you back any time I get hungry again!”

Nodding to herself made him fling up to the roof of her mouth and come crashing down again. He was free to struggle as much as he liked, in that weakened state. It still felt so strange to have absolutely no access to his magic. All his lifelines had been severed, and she was slowly, idly pushing him over to the corner of her mouth to fit him between her teeth, like she might with any other kind of food. It was clear only half her mind was on him. He was flickering again, losing the sensations of heat and wetness for as long as she was distracted. Then it all came rushing back at once when she had a surge of hunger.

Chomping on him ought to have been destructive, but he simply found himself malleable and easily conforming to her gnawing like he was simply a dog’s chew toy. She worked him over a few times, but quickly lost interest in that. The allure of [i]destroying[/i] him was simply too strong. In her mind, she could be a real dragoness, and she already had the prey ready to worship her or scream down her throat, whenever she was ready to end him. He was teetering over the edge. All she had to do was think about swallowing him, and he would find himself tasting death once more, experiencing it without the relief of nothingness awaiting him at the end. She was growing much more adept with her simulation, and she could do that to him as many times as she liked, no matter how much it wore him down.

Something made her hesitate. Remy hoped it meant she was at least a little attached to him. That seemed less likely when her imagined self fell into a stupor, leaving him instantly transported from her grasp and into the lonely void once more. She hadn’t even bothered to spit him out, merely turning her mind to more important things. He was left sprawled out and staring upwards as if he might see something, while she stood as if caught up in a holding spell. Her eyes were wide, her mouth was open, and a smile slowly appeared on her face as she gave her full attention to whatever was distracting her. The walls were closing in on Remy the whole time. She was completely ignoring him, and the danger grew with every moment she did so. It all made sense when he heard her speak.

“Yes, Mistress!”

Remy wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or not that she forgot to keep isolating him from her senses anymore. Had she stopped caring, or did she want him to see, at least subconsciously? He could watch through her eyes, and eventually even share in her sensations after some time. Maybe it was his chance. He had to make sure not to call too much attention to himself, but if he could start to take command of her impulses little by little, maybe he could figure out how to navigate her out of there and get her back somewhere he could reverse the spell. If it was even still possible. Surely his books and his scrolls contained something he could use.

Such ambitions began to fade when he gazed upon the mistress to which Skrav was devoted. The kobold’s bliss and love swarmed Remy from all sides, submerging him in a sea of emotions. He felt Skrav’s devotion, her awe, her fear, and her lust colliding with one another while she gazed over the rich red scales of her owner, sprawled across a bed of gold that matched her underbelly. Remy couldn’t say if he was seeing objective reality through the kobold’s eyes, but he was seeing everything she did. Gazing upon that room-filling bulk, and all her regal splendour invoked something truly primal. Her narrow features were soon locked exclusively on Skrav. The kobold didn’t so much as breathe.

“Approach,” the dragon said, her voice booming through the chamber and through the skull of her servant. Remy got rattled around within the kobold in the process.

The closer she got, the less attention Skrav paid the bird inside her mind. Shadows gripped him. They threatened to pull him into all directions at once, to scatter the pieces of his existence into such tiny fragments that they could never all be reunited. Or perhaps he would be crushed by the newly red-scaled walls around him, mashed down into dust, to drift upon winds of her thoughts. He screamed out, in his own voice at last. That was enough to make her turn her mind’s eye towards him before it was too late, even if it was just to scold him for his insolence.

“Stupid bird! This is it! This is [i]everything[/i] to me! Don’t interrupt me again!”

A god in her own mind, she was easily capable of manifesting whatever she wished. She summoned up a big, golden birdcage just for him and reached down to snatch him up before he could get away. Her focus was minimal enough that she had to chase him, at least. That didn’t last long. She snatched him and she tossed him behind the bars. The door vanished as soon as she slammed it shut. That was precisely where he was going to stay unless she could convince her to forget about the whole idea of shutting him up. That was going to be easy when he was competing with a dragon for a kobold’s attention.

Every moment he spent inside that cage made it feel as if it was dissolving his imagined body a little more, perhaps digesting him in a small sense. He retained the consciousness within it even as he floated away, reduced to dust by his prison, little more than a floating flicker of thought until he earned his body back. If she ever truly turned her attention to him again. Half-formed and unable to speak, the best he could do was frantically think as his surroundings seemed to spark and ripple with the rising heat.

The confines of his mental prison grew intensely hot to the point Remy was worried they might ignite, the closer the kobold got to the dragoness. It wasn’t merely the heat of a dragon’s presence. Skrav’s mind had been ignited with the kind of feverishly devoted lust that only a kobold could ever truly feel. She was trembling, but the fear was momentary at most. When the dragon reached out to wrap her up in those long, golden talons, all went blue and blissful around Remy until he could only project a mental shield to protect himself from the flood of emotions.

Remy was in uncharted territory. The destruction of his host seemed inevitable. He knew how dragons treated their many kobolds. Would he perish along with Skrav, an idea stuck in her head, never committed to paper, never communicated to anyone else? Untold thoughts died that way every single day, but he didn’t have time to linger on the scale of such a tragedy. Either he had to find a way out, or he just had to hold on and hope he might somehow escape when Skrav stopped thinking. She was already close, just by standing in the radiating presence of her Mistress.

He saw it all through her eyes. The dragon inspected her up and down. Making his presence known to such a powerful, dangerous creature would have been unwise in any other circumstances, but he had to try something. Calling out from within his mental cage, he expressed his willpower as intensely as he could in the hopes he might make some of his own words escape Skrav’s mouth. Yet try as he did, he couldn’t make much more than a tiny chirp, amounting to little more than an easily dismissed intrusive thought. The kobold wasn’t thinking about him, and he was far too insignificant a presence in her mind to be a distraction.

The dragon turned her upside down. That was her decision after having a good look over Skrav. There was no need for further introductions. The kobold knew her place, and that was to be a sex toy for her owner, even if it meant getting immersed headfirst into a soaking, sweltering dragon slit. Down she went, engulfed and delighted, overwhelming Remy with the emotions until he started to wonder if they were his own. Even as his view through her eyes turned dark, he felt every tingle, every tremble of her inner muscles, and the sheer arousal that came with being plunged inside the dragon’s sex over and over again. Maybe it was his purpose too.

The more he considered it, the more he felt himself seemingly tugged in several directions at once. He had to snap out of it, or he was going to be pulled apart as an idea and distributed to the rest of the kobold’s personality. He shook his head and rattled the bars of his cage, but Skrav simply couldn’t hear him. She was caught up in the [i]schlip-schlop[/i] of plunging up and down, stuffed away inside Mistress and living every second of the treatment. That momentary pang of fear was gone, failing to flare up again even as the dragoness started to push her deeper.

Enveloped entirely in the heat and rippling walls of the dragon’s pussy, Skrav had something akin to a religious experience. It was as good as serving her god. She’d been chosen special for that purpose. Remy fought it off, even as the drowning sensation overwhelmed all else. He internally gasped and he fought for relevance against the unending tide of kobold lust while Skrav immersed herself from head to toes in dragon sex. She was licking, tasting, and wriggling her very best as the walls closed in to clamp her, just as they did to Remy.

The cage proved a blessing, bending and denting under the pressure of the enclosing mental walls, but never breaking. He survived simply for the grace of circumstance, locked away and helpless while the dragon squeezed the kobold tighter and tighter. Even in the darkness it was evident what was happening to her. Skrav was getting squished down into more of those thickly flowing juices, slowly converted into the dragon’s next orgasm, absorbed inside that sex and reclaimed as the dragon’s rising pleasure.

Knowing she was doing such a good job for the dragon kept Skrav shuddering and shaking. Nobody heard her inner voice but Remy when she screamed in bliss. The moment stretched on. Neither of them were experiencing the flow of time anymore. Perhaps they were stuck in infinity, eternally devoted to the dragon. What began as the kobold’s perfect bliss became Remy’s own, until every last trace, every last spark of his own consciousness was slowly smothered by sheer sensations. She had no room for him anymore. Every part of her mind was devoted to the ecstasy of worship. It was a pure, heavenly plummet into oblivion for her, while all went dark and Remy was finally washed away by the tides, cage and all. He fell into a darkness so deep that even he began to forget who he’d ever been as he plunged towards his end, forgotten within the melting mind of his host.

Meanwhile, the dragon was rumbling, never quite roaring but certainly grunting her way towards an immodest orgasm all sprawled out on her back, hind legs spread, claws toying with her sex. There was nothing left of Skrav but for the juices overflowing from the slit of her glorious Mistress. Such a contribution served the dragon well. A toss of her great, horned head, and the red-scaled beast teased herself to an orgasm that had her audibly squirting everything that kobold had been all over those belly scales. It was a forceful, potent release that began as a torrent and finished as a mist, dripping down the great dragon’s body, running into the contours of her scales, splashing down upon her hoard of gold. The perfect use for a kobold.

Maybe there remained a flicker of something Remy-like in that translucent layer of smooth fem-cum glistening upon the dragon’s scales. It could have been little more than a notion, filtered through the melted and squirted kobold, diluted down to the basest concept. Even so, it might have been enough to piece the bird back together if properly collected and delivered to the proper source. Of course, that wasn’t going to happen. Not two seconds after the dragoness settled from her orgasm with a puff of smoke from her nostrils, and another kobold was there upon her to clean up what remained of the last one.

Licking from slit to belly scales, that ‘bold worked quickly to lap up every single drop of those warm juices from the shiny red and gold underside of his Mistress. He worked tirelessly, slavering his way through the process of drinking down every last trace of what had once been Skrav - and to a lesser extent, Remy. The last impulse of the crow wizard, the passing thought of his whole identity, went sliding down the throat of a mindlessly devoted kobold to be digested without a second thought. That creature knew only his Mistress. He was never even going to know he was the one who polished off the very last of the unfortunate bird’s existence in his belly.