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Good Deeds

• Chapter 2 of the Legends of the DragonRider

Direza was in hell - of that she felt certain. Only the demons who lurked in the world beyond could have concocted such sadistic torment as she was experiencing. Of course, such tortures would, by their very nature, be unending, and hers did have a supposed end... she just had no idea how close she was to it, sometimes making her wonder if it existed at all, or was just an illusion meant to worsen the torture even more. Still, she could not resist its allure, or the demand to do her utmost, exerting herself to the extreme, in the hopes of reaching it.

Really, the only thing that kept her going, kept her hoping, was the sight of her beloved Mistress. Every day, be it for a brief moment or a longer walk, she would see her. The Mistress would appear to speak to her owner for the day, her tormentor, and ask if she had satisfied them duly. And despite pushing herself to the limit, the dragon she had served so eagerly usually answered no. Several days would pass like that, more often than not, before finally the dragon would say yes - ­ perhaps having grown tired of tormenting her. Then she would walk for an all-too-brief time beside her Mistress, her legs aching from the unfamiliar strain of standing upright, before being delivered to another dragon, another owner, another torturer...

Not that any of them actually hurt her, of course. Their claws and fangs never touched her, and at most a few had deployed their lashing tails to rap across her bare buttocks when encouraging her to be faster or more thorough. Those moments of short, stinging pain were treasured memories for her, now - ­ an all-too-brief distraction from the torments of pleasure. Always, always the pleasure. It was like an immense pressure inside her, building up but never releasing - ­ always tantalizingly just out of reach, leaving her incapable of not seeking that final climax, however clear it had become that it would never arrive.

Not only would the dragons frequently devote long periods of time - ­ hours, sometimes - ­ to caressing her constantly-wet pussy, her always-erect nipples, or the hard nub of her clit... she would also find herself contributing to the situation whenever she was left idle, pawing at her pussy with her glove-locked, clumsy hands. Every night, she would dig into the tender orifice ceaselessly, tears of frustration in her eyes, unable to resist the temptation despite knowing its futility - ­ until finally, she fell into an exhausted sleep.

But she was making progress. She was sure of that. Different dragons of different sizes with different colors and different predilections. It had to end at some point. So she worked with desperate eagerness, carrying out both her original orders and whatever commands her owners dished out on top of them, never hesitating for a moment to debase herself in the name of whatever depravity aroused them. Things that had once been difficult soon became second nature, carried out without a second thought.

Some duties, in particular, were ever-present. She would always serve her owner as a mobile pissoir, gluing her lips to the female dragon's piss-hole whenever called to do so, and drinking down the contents of her dragon-sized bladder without missing a drop. Depending on the size and color of the dragon, that could be more or less of a challenge, but even so, she never failed - ­ even when her stomach was straining to contain a red dragon's bladderful, even with early-morning loads so strong they burned her throat. Faithfully, she would drink it all down before cleaning the area with her tongue - ­ often dipping it into the urethra itself to lick up any stray drops that might be hiding there - ­ before thanking her owner for the privilege, and demonstrating her gratitude for being allowed to serve by moving her mouth a bit lower and giving the puckered tail-hole a deep, tongue-lashing kiss.

She did, of course, also spend significant time licking draconic pussy, straining her oral skills to repeatedly give her owner the orgasmic climax that was denied her. Repetition sharpened her skills quickly, even as she learned how to adapt to a wide variety of sizes... and hardened her oral muscles, increasing the strength and endurance of her tongue. This much was regular, and increasingly routine. Beyond that, the individual dragoness stepped in with preferences, ideas and challenges... each more perverted than the last.

She spent three days with a rather promiscuous green who, each and every day, invited several male dragons over. For each male suitor, a harsh routine unfolded for Direza's overworked mouth: First, she would lavish attention on the male's cock, getting it fully-primed and rock-hard while coating it in saliva - ­ switching up occasionally with tonguing the dragoness' asshole, lubing it up and massaging the powerful muscles there. She'd then remain trapped between the two dragons' powerful legs as the male mounted the female, watching up-close as the huge rod was rammed into her owner's ass, busying herself with stimulating the dragoness' pussy and clit with her tongue and mitten-clad hands. The two would carry on until the male had cum at least a couple of times like that, with the female going through an entire chain of orgasms, spraying a steady stream of pungent juices into Direza's mouth. Only then would he pull out, leaving her to take care of the post-coital cleanup - first licking the male dragon's huge cock clean, removing all traces of cum and ass-slime, then cleaning her owner's gaping asshole, sucking out the thick, draconic jizz that steadily dribbled out of it.

Three or four times per day, that scenario would repeat itself - ­ interspersed by brief meals (for which she had little appetite) and the regular toilet-service. Her owner barely moved from her nest the whole time. And only after three days of that did the dragoness finally declare herself satisfied and allow her to move on to the next in line. Who, fortunately, proved a less strenuous owner - ­ at worst, she seemed to delight in treating Direza like a real pet, making her sleep in a (surprisingly comfy) basket and eat and drink from bowls, often pulling her lead to make her crawl around the den, or making her do simple tricks. It would've been like a vacation... if said dragoness wasn't also painfully conscientious about 'taking care' of her pet's 'needs'. As if the weights dangling from her sensitive nipples and clit as she crawled, rolled and jumped for her owner's amusement wasn't bad enough, she received frequent deep, intensely pleasurable tongue-fucks - once again bringing the torment of the unreleased pressure to the forefront.

And so it went, dragoness after dragoness, each with her own twist on tormenting and - ­ worse - ­ pleasuring their temporary 'pet'. One had acquired a collection of human-scaled toys, in various textures and shapes, and amused herself by ordering Direza to impale herself on them, often leaving them deeply embedded in her pussy or ass as she crawled around. One broad-hipped brown female put her through a similar ordeal to the earlier green, albeit with only a single partner: a large red male who was her live-in lover. She sheer size of his cock - ­ and load - ­ provided new challenges, and while the green had clearly been an anal addict, the brown seemed to like a little of both... which, on one hand, made for a far tastier dick to clean afterwards half the time, and on the other left her tonguing her owner's ass during those same, lengthy pussy-pounding sections.

Finally, she wound up in the hands - ­ or, rather, talons - ­ of a young blue who seemed somehow familiar... and proved to be the most perverted yet. She had somehow acquired a leather groin-harness, designed to hold various dildos inside and out. Hour after hour, making full use of her draconic constitution, the blue would pound one or both of Direza's holes, even as the vibrations of the impacts spread up through the dual dildos planted in her own orifices. She would cum repeatedly, while simultaneously lifting Direza to new heights of unendurably unreleased pleasure... until finally running out of steam and leaving the frustrated elf to tongue-clean all the dildos involved. The worst part, however, was how the experience - ­ being mounted and roughly pounded by a dragon, albeit one wielding fake dicks scaled to her body - ­ reminded her of her true Mistress...

But finally, after several days of this - ­ leaving both or her holes thoroughly sore and worn-out - ­ the blue dragoness pronounced herself satisfied, and she once again found herself dressed in an all-concealing cloak, being led along the gigantic hallways of the Dragon Utopia by her beloved Mistress. Her idle musings about what her next owner would be like, however, were interrupted by a niggling feeling that the passages were somehow familiar. She did not dare allow herself to believe it, though - ­until she saw the old, wooden gate, and heard the faint squeak as it swung open on well-lubricated hinges.

Her true home. The Champion's Quarters. Great Blake, her Mistress' first and truest love, was lazing upon his nest. Melora, her sister in fate, was sweeping - ­ but looked up with a broad smile when they entered. As the gate swung shut behind them, the Mistress' hand squeezed her shoulder. "It's over." whispered that melodious voice. "You have completed your punishment, and redeemed your failure. I hereby reinstate you as my personal servant. Take off that cloak, now - ­ and join me on the nest to receive the reward of your persistence and hard work."

Her hands shook as she unclasped the cloak, letting it float to the ground. She was entirely naked underneath; the knee-pads, finger-restricting mittens and collar she had been wearing during her time as a pet were gone at last. The clamps and weights that had dangled painfully from her breasts and groin were also gone, though they'd left their mark - ­ her nipples seemed to be slightly longer than they had been before, pulled out from the subtle tissue of her modest tits, while her clit hung out from its hood, too swollen to retreat underneath it. All three points were throbbing painfully as the blood flowed back into them after being clamped for so long - ­ as had been the case every time her Mistress had collected her from a dragoness, bidden her to stand, and covered her in the midnight-blue cloak for the long walk to her next owner.

Her legs were unsteady as she staggered towards the nest where the Mistress already lay, leaning against the gleaming black flank of her mighty lover as she beckoned her closer. She was almost afraid to reach out and take that hand - ­ afraid that it would disappear on touch, like an illusion dispelled or a dream ending. But instead, the Mistress slim, white-skinned hand - ­ so much stronger than it looked, so firm and commanding in everything it did - ­ tightly grasped her own ash-gray digits and pulled her unto the nest, on top of the Mistress.

In an instant, hot lips found hers, and a powerful tongue pushed past her teeth and wrestled her own into submission. One hand firmly gripped and squeezed her left buttock, while another rubbed across her swollen clit even as several slender fingers began to dig into the dripping-wet cunt-hole beneath. Already, the pleasure was rising faster and stronger than it had with any of the long-tongued dragons and this time, there was no ceiling to contain it. The orgasm hit her like a tidal-wave, driven by more days of unreleased sexual tension than she could count. She lost all control of her body, her limbs convulsing as she screamed her pleasure into the Mistress' mouth.

She could not control herself. The pleasure was too great, and a single orgasm was nowhere near enough to give her outlet for all the pressure that had built up inside her. But it was fine - ­ she didn't need to control herself, or her body. She only needed to surrender herself fully into the hands of the Mistress. Pliably, she spread her legs as the Mistress pushed her over on her back, and watched with rising anticipation as the Mistress'head descended down her body, leaving that beautiful, jet-black hair nestled between her thighs. Those sapphire-blue eyes, with their impossible, inhuman pupils, were looking right up at her, above her mons and her breasts, probably watching her face contort in pleasure as that impossibly-skilled tongue - ­ of whose sheer capacity for inducing pleasure her own skills were merely a faint shadow - ­ went to work.

Again and again, the climaxes struck her brain like bolts of lightning, making her spine arch as she rose from the soft moss of the nest, thrusting her groin eagerly into the tireless mouth that was now working on it. Her fingers were digging ruts in the moss as her hands struggled to maintain the grip her mind had long-since lost. She could only lie there, shaking and moaning as the pleasure washed over her, washing all thought away. Then, for a brief while, the pleasure ebbed - ­ but even as she started to regain her breath, renewed shudders of deep pleasure went through her. She could feel the Mistress moving up her body, feel the warmth and smoothness of her skin, feel the twin pebbles of her nipples and the feather-light kisses peppering her hips, her stomach, her breasts, her collar-bone...

Then, the kisses landed on her mouth, carrying the taste of her own arousal with them, and she forced her eyes, previously screwed tightly shut against the surges of ecstasy, to open so that she could look directly up into those gorgeous, deep-blue eyes. See the mischief and lust dance in there... and, yes, the love. A love that made her heart pound faster than any amount of base pleasure ever had, even though she knew that it was different from what she felt. It was the love of a master for a beloved pet, of a king for a loyal servant. The other kind, she knew well, was only in the Mistress' eyes when she looked upon the vast, night-black dragon who even now lay quietly besides them, watching them with a slight grin on his reptilian snout. But she had known that before she even set out on her journey, leaving everything behind in the hopes of once again finding the woman who had touched her like no member of her own species ever had. And she was happy with the love she had earned - ­ so happy she thought her chest would burst with it. All the suffering she had gone through, in those endless days being passed from dragon to dragon, now seemed as naught - ­ nay, a blessing. For it had allowed her to return to her Mistress' good graces. To feel once again the pleasure of that loving embrace.

Then her eyes widened even further, and she gasped. Something blunt, hot and hard was poking at her fully-engorged labia, sliding across the mixture of pussy-juice and saliva that covered them in search of the wide-open orifice betwixt. Dimly, realization dawned. She'd seen this once before, just before her exile. A new magic, wielded with practiced ease by the mighty Blake. At that time, it had pleased the Mistress to take her ass - ­ while her dear friend Melora, similarly endowed, had been filling her pussy to an almost painful degree. It had been one of the most pleasurable experiences of her long life, but this... this was even better. Feeling her Mistress entering her pussy, face to face. Seeing the glow of pleasure in those reptile-like eyes, and knowing that she was responsible for it. There was a new way in which she could serve her Mistress, now, and she could not be happier with it.

Several more orgasms flashed through her mind as she hugged her Mistress tight, breasts mashed together, their hips grinding against one another in repeated, sexual undulations. Moans, shrieks and groans of pleasure emerged from her mouth, only to be silenced by deep kisses. Her whole body felt hot, almost feverish, and with each climax she grew more light-headed. Nonetheless, she immediately noticed when a warm, slippery sensation spread deep inside her abdomen. The feeling of hot spunk filling her womb was not one she had felt a great many times, but she recognized it nonetheless. Images flashed momentarily before her eyes - ­ of her belly growing, of bearing a child with reptilian eyes... of giving the ultimate tribute to her Mistress. She knew enough of magic to realize it was impossible, but in that dazed moment, that fact could be easily ignored. Then, as her hips bucked, eagerly receiving the Mistress' seed, the most powerful orgasm she'd ever had swept over her, and everything went black.

Anitra smiled fondly as she looked down at Direza's ivory-white hair, idly running her fingers through it. The drow-girl was still clinging to her firmly, even as she slept -­ lying halfway across her lap, arms wrapped around her waist. "I actually had more stuff planned for her..." she said casually, glancing up at Blake who was looking down at the pair with a raised eyebrow. "But I guess she needs a nap first, the poor dear." Blake snorted mightily, rolling his eyes. "No kidding. After you left her under that curse for so long, I'm surprised she didn't black out the first time she climaxed. She must've been about to burst! Hah. And I thought I_was cruel to _my personal servant..."

"Not at all, Sir. You are a most kind Master." Blake's gaze shifted swiftly to the source of that interjection: Melora, still busily tidying up the den, and currently glancing coyly in his direction. "Is that a fact? Then clearly, I have been too lenient. Can't let people think that I'm getting soft! Go put on the harness with the three copper rods... and wear it until you've finished your work." The horse-girl quickly curtsied, and abandoned her broom to dash into the human-sized quarters adjoining the larger den. When she returned a few minutes later, a leather harness encircled her muscular waist, with a broad strap running between her legs and terminating in a large ring at the back, through which her tail cascaded. Three circles of gleaming copper - of varying sizes - punched through this leather strap - one small in front, with a far larger one right beneath it, and a slightly smaller one at the back.

Anitra grinned as she watched Blake trace a quick, magical sigil in the air, causing a tiny spark of lightning to appear at the tip of his talon. The spark then hovered slowly through the air towards Melora, who was standing with her legs slightly spread, one hand on her recovered broom, clearly bracing herself. Then the spark hit the central copper-circle and disappeared with a slight, crackling sound, making Melora jump slightly, breath whistling in through clenched teeth. Putting both hands on the broom, she then resumed her work, occasionally pausing as a tremor shot through her body. The magical spark, Anitra knew, would be randomly jumping between the three conductors buried deep in her body - ­ one thin dildo penetrating her urethra to poke into her bladder, one king-sized rod filling her pussy and touching the cervix at the top, and another, barely smaller, lodged deep in her asshole. Frankly, with the way each dildo had been sized to the very limits of her body, and how tightly the straps kept them in, just MOVING while wearing that thing had to be fairly uncomfortable, never mind the intermittent electric shocks.

Blake continued watching her movements with one eye as he otherwise returned his attention to Anitra, who was grinning fondly up at him. "Now that that's been taken care of... before you went off to pick up Direza, you said you'd found something interesting in the books we recovered from Drake the Obscene's library? Something about... well, me?" Anitra nodded, her face becoming more serious as the subject drifted away from carnal matters. "Indeed - ­ in the sense that I found something about Black Dragons. To be honest, I was surprised - ­ it was always a long shot, even though I mentioned the possibility from the start."

Sighing, she shifted her shoulders a bit to lean more comfortably against Blake's massive flank, enjoying the weight of the sleeping elf on her lap as her hands idly continued to caress the girl. "Well, maybe it shouldn't be that much of a surprise..." she continued. "Drake was clearly big on interspecies sex. A remarkable percentage of the spells found in his library are specifically designed to enable intercourse between beings who wouldn't normally be able to bang. Dragons were on his list too, and since you're far from the first Black to turn to human partners due to being isolated from dragonkind, he had a particular interest there."

Her eyes narrowed as she remembered the well-worn personal journal she had found in the last shipment of books brought in from the Library of the Perverse. A team of dragons had been hard at work emptying the place, transferring its bounty to the Grand Library of the Utopia, where it could be better protected. A couple of neighboring dens had been claimed for an expansion of the Grand Library to make room for it all, the previous residents moving to brand-new, well-furnished dens in the crater-rim instead. That, in itself, was part of a continuing tendency -­ now that the Utopia had opened its doors to the outside world, more and more of the floating castle that represented the heart of it was being given over to administration, storage, guest-quarters and so on, while many of the general residents were moving out to the crater-rim, or some of the nearby mountain-peaks still safely within the wall of illusions. Enough said, the value of the Browns, whose sturdy digging-claws were carving new habitats out of gravel and stone with remarkable speed, had never been more clear.

Breaking out of the momentary reverie, she continued. "So yeah, it wasn't really unexpected that he would write something down about black dragons... what WAS surprising was his source." Blake looked down at her with the shadow of a scowl on his handsome, reptilian face. "Well? Don't keep me in suspense. Who told him of black dragons?" She grinned up at him, eager to see the same surprise she had felt mirrored on him. "Someone whose name should ring rather familiar, my love. A strangely knowledgeable wandering explorer by the name of... Lutan." Recognition and surprise flashed across Blake's face in turn, followed by a faint annoyance. "Lutan. Again. I thought we'd be done with that guy after we finished his little 'treasure-hunt'. But I suppose that was too much to hope for. The revelation that he pretty much _created_the Dragon Utopia certainly proves that he was far more than a simple explorer. Not that there wasn't hints to that effect along the way..."

She nodded solemnly, thinking back to what they knew of that mysterious individual. Not much, really - ­ just enough to make it clear that they knew very little indeed. By all accounts, he'd been merely an adventurous explorer with an idealistic bent, and an uncanny ability to get into and out of well-protected places. He'd somehow reached the depth of a trapped, monster-infested mausoleum on an island unreachable to all but dragons, found the utterly undetectable Mirage City, and easily escaped captivity amongst Amazons and Drow alike. All of which could've been written up to him being merely an exceptionally talented adventurer, but... before doing any of that, he'd created the massive illusion that covered the entire area around the Dragon Utopia, enduring through the millennia without wavering, powerful enough that not even dragons could penetrate it. The list of beings capable of such a feat was both short and intimidating. Jinni and Afreeti. Archdemons and Archangels. Gods and Demigods. Possibly some of the more obscure and exotic high-order beings, like Elohim or Nephilim. If Lutan had been any of those, he'd hidden it well.

With a deep breath, she shook off the thought of that mystery. Intriguing though it was, the true nature of the man known as Lutan was secondary to her eagerness to find out what Blake -­ and, for that matter, she ­ - truly was. "Quite. Well, either way, the journal I read seems like it came from Drake's personal study, and amongst other diary-entries mentioned a meeting with Lutan, whom he described as 'an individual of rare enlightenment'. Apparently, they had a lengthy, philosophical debate, and the subject of black dragons came up somehow. Drake lamented how these 'rare, beautiful creatures' were so often hunted by others, including their own kind, and worries that they would soon go extinct because of it. Lutan, however, reassured him, stating that there would always be black dragons -­ indeed, no amount of dragon-slayers could truly change the number of black dragons in the world."

Blake's eyes narrowed as the implications of that statement hit home, and Anitra nodded in response to the unspoken conclusion - ­ feeling it radiate through their telepathic link as a sudden burst of emotion. "Indeed. Even if he doesn't come right out and say it, that seems to imply some form of... reincarnation. It's always been a bit of a mystery why black dragons keep hatching from the eggs of other dragons. Anyone, from the biggest Red to the most diminutive White might find a black hatchling in one of their eggs. And it certainly seems accurate that while there's never been very many_black dragons, there's always _some..."

Blake nodded absently, his mind whirring as she continued her account. "Anyway, from what Drake wrote, Lutan basically let that slip unintentionally. As soon as he'd said it, he started recanting, trying to pass it off as being merely an assumption based on his experience as an explorer, hearing tales of black dragons in many different places. But ol' Drake was no fool; he was quite sure that Lutan had spoken with the confidence of knowledge, not guesswork. Unfortunately, Lutan refused to discuss dragons further, and soon made his excuses and left. Drake jotted this down as 'something to be investigated later', but if he ever got around to doing so, I haven't found that journal yet."

Nodding again, Blake looked gravely down at her. "So... if we assume Lutan knew what he was talking about, and from everything we know, chances are he did... every time someone slays a Black, some random egg somewhere suddenly gets a black occupant. As long as there are dragons, the number of Blacks will remain unchanged. Interesting indeed. And if that means that there's... something, passed down from Black to Black throughout the generations... a soul, a spark, whatever..." Anitra grinned up at him, returning the nod as she continued his line of thought. "...then there might be a way to draw on that, to recover memories of past 'incarnations'. Finally providing an answer to where the first black dragons came from... and, perhaps, the first DragonRiders as well."

A glum expression spread across Blake's face as he sighed. "Yes, yes... but how? I've heard of spells capable of recovering memories of past incarnations. Very advanced, very complex... clerical spells. No dragon can wield the power of a Cleric, and even if we could somehow convince one of the half-dozen high priests or prophets in this world capable of casting such a spell to help us, it wouldn't_work_ on me. Or any other Black, for that matter." Anitra grimaced, recognizing a familiar problem. Draconic antimagic was a powerful defense, but it couldn't be turned off - ­ occasionally making it something of a double-edged sword.

In the end, she could only shrug. "Well, I guess we'll just have to keep our eyes out for alternative methods. Maybe I'll find something as I keep going through the books from the Library of the Perverse. Heck, knowing Drake, I wouldn't be surprised if he had a spell stashed somewhere in there for having sex with your past selves." They laughed together at that thought -­ an unlikely and rather baroque scenario indeed, but based on what they both had read of that long-dead wizard, he certainly would've done just that if possible.

Direza suddenly murmured, stirring in Anitra's lap - ­ apparently awakened from her exhausted slumber by the laughter. "Ah, my dear servant has awakened!" Anitra exclaimed as the elf blinked bleary-eyed, slowly returning to consciousness after her nap. "Are you ready to serve me again, my pet?" That question got her moving. In a flash, she was up on her knees next to Anitra, head bowed. "Of course, Mistress. How may I serve you?" Her voice was vibrant with eagerness, and Anitra smiled as she heard it. Then she turned her head to glance up at Blake. "If you will, my love?" He grinned as the details of her request was transmitted over their telepathic link and nodded, even as he started to trace magical runes in the air once more.

As the elf shuddered, clearly affected by the sudden sensation of heat and pressure from her groin, Anitra explained further. "Well, there is something I would have you do... if things work out, it will become a regular part of your duties. Now, let me have a look at your new equipment..." Direza swallowed visibly as she looked down between her legs, spreading them on command so that they could both enjoy the view. Where before her well-used pussy had been quietly drying out after their most recent bout, now a hard, action-ready cock rose rigidly. Like the rest of her, it was ash-gray... and rather slender. Anitra had no idea how it would compare to a male elf, let alone a male drow - ­ she'd never had a chance to have sex with one, oddly enough - ­ but compared to the average human, it was somewhat underwhelming, particularly in terms of girth.

Anitra felt her own pussy -­ back where it belonged after Blake had discontinued the spell he put on her earlier -­ grow wet with expectation. It was almost exactly as she had expected, and hoped. "Lie back, my pet, and I'll show you what I require..." she purred, already crawling forwards. The lithe elf did as she was told, of course, and soon Anitra was sitting astride her hips, fingers wrapped around the slender shaft as she guided it towards her pussy. It slipped inside easily, the highly-stretchy orifice gripping it only loosely, but Direza nonetheless moaned at the sensation of warm, wet friction as Anitra gyrated her hips a few times.

Then the sensation disappeared, and Direza blinked in surprise as Anitra lifted herself from her newly-arrived cock again. Worry creased her face - had she displeased her Mistress somehow? But Anitra just smiled naughtily down at her, and once again gripped the now-slick tool - ­ guiding it a bit higher. Her peehole, right above the well-lubricated pussy-hole, offered a great deal more resistance as Anitra once again lowered her hips. The edges of it peeled back Direza's foreskin, but in the process it stretched far enough to allow the dark-red head to enter. The elf shuddered at the feeling of extreme tightness, even as her mistress - ­ with eyes closed and mouth slightly open - ­ continued to push herself downwards.

It had been a while since she'd last enjoyed a proper urethra-penetration. Even the most modestly-equipped dragon in the Utopia was simply too big for it to be an option, and she'd had no human-sized lovers with the right equipment. Occasionally, she'd fingered the tiny hole herself while being otherwise mounted, but it just wasn't the same. This was it, though - ­ the one good thing she'd taken away from her lengthy captivity at the hands of the Centaurs: The sensation of a hot, hard cock sliding into her peehole, pushing past two muscular sphincters to lodge its head inside her bladder. Like anal sex, it carried the forbidden sensation of being penetrated in an orifice that had never been designed with penetration in mind - ­ along with the near-painful sensation of being stretched to the limit, which only the biggest anal intrusions could cause her these days. More than that, though, the location alone caused every sensation, every bit of friction, every slight vibration, to radiate down to her empty pussy, redoubling the pleasure.

She pumped her hips slowly, lifting as far as she dared on each stroke. Though her urethra was tougher and more flexible than that of a normal human, it was still more sensitive than any other orifice she had, and even that relatively low level of friction and pressure was enough to send tremors down her spine. Already, an orgasm was beginning to build in her gut. Underneath her, Direza seemed to be enjoying their unusual coupling just as much - ­ moaning quietly, gripping the nest's moss-covering just as she had done when it had been Anitra entering her, and flexing her hips ever-so-slightly. Grinning, Anitra began to pick up speed, riding her elvish devotee faster and more roughly. Her desires were peaking - ­ holding back was hardly an option anymore.

The orgasm was only just beginning to roll over her when an immense mass appeared above her, blocking out the light - and something pointy and slippery pushed forcefully against her sphincter. She gasped as the thick rod entered her ass, shuddering as the familiar pleasure mingled with the unfamiliar. What with their telepathic bond and his sheer bulk, it was rare for Blake to surprise her effectively, but she'd been sufficiently caught up in the rediscovered sensation of peehole penetration to enable him to do it this time. Briefly, amidst the rising tide of ecstasy, she wondered how his shaft had gotten so well-lubricated, but a glance over her shoulder - ­ down the space between her back and Blake's broad chest - ­ saw that particular question swiftly answered.

Back there, she could see a pair of broad hips, covered in a short, rough coat of hair... and currently entrapped in a leathery harness, with sparks still occasionally flying between coppery insets in its front, accompanied by involuntary muscle-spasms. Apparently, Melora had finished her cleaning-duties, and attended to her lord in a different way... or, perhaps rather shifted her focus to more intimate cleaning. Based on her current location, there was little doubt that the horse-girl's broad, soft tongue was currently exploring Blake's tailhole as deeply as it could manage, contributing to the eagerness with which he flexed his hips now, driving deep into Anitra's ass.

Trapped between two cocks - ­ of vastly different size, but each filling their designated orifice to capacity - ­ Anitra convulsed helplessly in the grip of a powerful, multifaceted orgasm, that did not so much end as momentarily ebb before surging back into flood. Soon, a feeling of hot, slimy fullness spread through her abdomen - ­ starting with her bladder, which filled up with thick spunk as Direza bucked and groaned underneath her, seemingly mesmerized by her first 'male' orgasm. It was a strange sensation - ­ one she'd been too lost in despair to really appreciate last time she'd felt it. The familiarity of a full bladder, combined with the oddness of it being filled by something far too thick and slimy to be piss. It wobbled inside her as her body shook under Blake's forceful thrusts, creating strange tremors of sensation that weren't quite pleasure, but couldn't really be called anything else.

Then a deluge of hot dragon-cum blasted into her rectum, as Blake groaned and shook above her. The pleasure she was already feeling became suddenly sharper and more vibrant, as the familiar surge of The Quickening washed over her. His presence above her, his power within her: this was when she was at her strongest. A maniacal grin appeared on her face as the endless waves of orgasmic pleasure grew taller and more jagged, and she began to move her body more forcefully, more insistently. Gyrating her hips, she pushed back against Blake's magnificent rod, while simultaneously riding Direza's slender cock as wildly as she could manage.

Their hips mashed together again and again, and inside she could feel the slight ridge of the elfin dick's crown caress the tiny, tight sphincter that marked the entrance to her bladder. Every time she pushed herself down, close enough for the tiny, well-kept bush of ivory hair that crowned the drow's Mons Venus to tickle her clitoris, the cockhead would pop fully inside her already cum-filled bladder, only to slip back out into the even-tighter confines of her urethra when she bounced back up. The slender elf was writhing beneath her, the rough treatment practically torturous in her current state of post-orgasmic sensitivity. Her groans of pain-tinged pleasure only served to arouse Anitra further, however, and were swiftly stifled by a deep, insistent kiss. The elf-girl moaned into her mouth, caught up in the pleasure and sense of closeness, and soon she ejaculated again - ­ adding another, somewhat smaller load of fresh cum to Anitra's already-filled bladder. The resultant strain was just the sort of pain that served to further enhance her pleasure, however...

Roughly twenty minutes later, the impromptu orgy had wound down some, and Anitra was leaning lazily against Blake's broad back as she luxuriated in the orgasmic afterglow - ­ as well as the continuous trickle of pleasure streaming from between her spread legs, where Direza (once again bereft of dick) was busy jamming her tongue up Anitra's well-stretched urethra, eagerly lapping up her own cum. It would be bitter and tinged yellow, she knew - ­ after all, that particular orifice was designed to get rid of pee, and wouldn't stop functioning in that regard just because she'd repurposed it as a fuckhole. Of course, seeing as Direza was never happier than when she was squirming in humiliation beneath Anitra's heel, that only served to enhance the feast from her perspective.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the nest, Melora had her own feast to see to - ­ Blake's huge cock, still hard, and covered in a gunky mixture of his cum and Anitra's sticky ass-juices, now being licked clean by her broad, velvet-soft tongue. The solidly-built horse-girl generally preferred pain to humiliation, but she was always happy to serve Blake in any way she could... and of course, Blake often found ways to add a little painful incentive to her tasks. Even from the other side of the nest, Anitra could hear the electric buzzing and occasional involuntary yelps of the tormented horse-girl - ­ Blake had added a second spark of magical lightning to her copper penetrators, ensuring that two of the three rods would be electrified at a time... unless the two sparks randomly jumped to the same one, doubling the voltage and sending potent shocks through whichever orifice they'd wound up in.

Closing her eyes she sighed in pleasure, digging her fingers into Direza's long, ivory-white locks as she encouraged the elf-girl to continue her labors. Maybe the search for answers regarding the Black Dragons were at a dead end for now, but she'd continue searching through the mountain of books recovered from the Library of the Obscene - ­ and in the meantime, there were a multitude of pleasurable diversions to be gleaned from what she'd already found. This conjure-a-dick spell, more than any of the rest, held infinite potential. Actually, now that she thought about it... with her own magically-imbued dick, it should be possible to fit in the urethra of a dragoness, if one could be found who was willing to try it out. She rather fancied the idea of experimenting with that particular piece of perversion from the other side of the equation... maybe at Blake's next 'Mating Games'! Oh, and she could bring in Direza and Melora too... as the 'Easy' and 'Hard' option, respectively, with herself in the middle. For some of the bigger races, even Melora's equine cock wouldn't be impossible. Her smile widened as the contemplated the possibilities...

However, three days later, her mood had soured significantly. In fact, her expression was downright pained as she walked into the den, carrying yet another book from Drake's collection. She'd become enough of a familiar face by now that the librarian pretty much let her walk in and out with whatever book she chose - as he put it, they wouldn't even have those books without her, so there was little point in being overly protective. Blake, for his part, was relaxing in the chambers' dragon-sized bath, but his sleepy smile quickly vanished when he sensed Anitra's stormy mood over their telepathic link. He turned a grave eye on her as she sat down at the edge of the crater-like indentation in the floor that formed the 'tub', keeping the book in her hand well away from the water.

"Anitra. What's the matter? Discovered something unpleasant in those old books, I assume?" She glanced up at him, seeing the concern in his eyes, and delivered a half-hearted, lopsided smile. "Yeah. But, don't worry. It's not about Black Dragons... at least, not directly. Tell me, d'ya know about the curious reaction between dragon-blood and human blood?" He blinked at the apparent non sequitur, then shrugged, sending ripples across the steaming surface of the water. "Sure. Inferand told me about it, back in the day. In the context of a few of his me-versus-dragonslayers anecdotes. It boils, right? A nifty trick if you're fighting a human - ­ should they manage to make you bleed, just try to bleed on them - ­ if they've got a few cuts too, they'll suddenly be in a lot of pain. And meanwhile, no dragon worth his salt would even notice such a minor upsurge in temperature, so WE don't need to worry about getting stained by human blood."

Anitra nodded along to the explanation, then gestured at the book she was holding. "Yeah, that's about what I read, too. Only human blood, mind. No other race's blood reacts that way, not even halfbreeds like Half-Orc or Half-Elves. Now, ask yourself why something like that might be mentioned in one of Drake's books..." Blake made a thoughtful sound, and raised a talon to scratch one scaly eyebrow. "No idea. Making a dragon bleed isn't easy, so I can't imagine it'd happen accidentally during lovemaking... though, I suppose you could do it deliberately. 'Blood-play', and whatnot. Is that what you're talking about?"

Now it was Anitra's turn to freeze in place and blink in surprise, before shaking her head to clear it. "Um... no. That wasn't what I was getting at at all. Where'd you even... no, never mind! What I was_getting at is that I found a book about dragon-on-human lovin' in general, and it's got a warning about this phenomenon. A _big_one, in bold letters, on the first page, basically. Because, you see, it's not just blood that causes this reaction. Cum will do it too. Combine that with a size-difference that's likely to cause at least_some bleeding, and... I'm sure you can see the problem."

Blake flinched, flashing back to an earlier time,before he'd met Anitra. "Oh... yes, yes I can. I guess that's why those girls I used to kidnap rarely survived the first time. I figured it was just my... size, y'know? Geez. That is a rather important bit of knowledge, that." Anitra sighed and nodded, waving the book around a bit more. "I'd say. This book's pretty impressive, though. Has some genital-specific fireproofing-spells specifically designed to remove that particular hazard. And, less pleasantly, a detailed description of the kind of severe nerve-damage that can occur from failing to have one in place. Which made me remember something else..."

Blake looked momentarily confused, then nodded glumly. "Ah. I see what you're getting at. Since we met, I've only been with one human... back when we were visiting Mirage City. Or rather, you were visiting. I was just camping out outside it, bored outta my skull, with no diversion save a particularly well-cowed slave-girl. I did_wonder why she went so utterly crazy after I screwed her that first time. Now I'm just surprised she survived." Anitra sighed and nodded. "Yeah, me too. Must've been a close thing, but I guess she'd been so well-stretched in the past that the bleeding was comparatively minimal. Not enough to cook her internal organs, but based on what this book's saying, probably enough to give her third-degree burns across a significant portion of the inside of her pussy. I don't even wanna _think about what that must feel like. Unfortunately, the book describes it in excruciating detail, so I don't have to."

Sighing deeply, Blake rolled over in the bath, sending out little waves even as he revealed his glistening belly-scales. "I think I see where this is going... I bet that oh-so-thorough book also has information about how to fix that kind of damage, no?" Looking at him with just a hint of annoyance, she nodded. "It does. A special salve, tailor-made to fix the kind of comprehensive nerve-damage involved. I've already put in a special order with one of the visiting alchemists. And, yes, you've probably guessed the next part too... I wanna head back to Mirage City, see if the Sultan took her in like I asked, and if so, try to heal her."

She knew what Blake's reply would be, and she wasn't disappointed. "Why?" The question was spoken in a tone that was half weary, half confused. She was still struggling to find an answer when he continued. "I've noticed you've been on some kind of a 'heroic' bender of late. Like warning off those adventurers back at the Library of the Obscene, when it would've been easier to just wipe them out. Or maybe wipe out most of them and grab the women for some quick fun. That's how we've always done things. And I don't recall you having any trouble buying that slave-girl for me in the first place - ­ even knowing that she'd be unlikely to survive."

Anitra nodded, her face taking on a determined cast as she finally found the jumping-off point for explaining her current state of mind. "That's right. I didn't have any trouble buying her, or handing her over to you for a no-doubt grisly fate. I didn't feel bad about it, even for a moment. But I remember thinking, even when I was doing it, that I probably should feel bad about it. And that's the realization I've come to. Being a DragonRider means that I've got no conscience, no sense of guilt - ­ you told me that on our first night together. No matter what I do to humans or other 'lesser beings', I'll never lose a single night's sleep over it. Heck, immediately after my awakening, we tortured and raped my very own mother, and I never had a single twinge of guilt about that... but, oh, hey, remind me - ­ how did that work out, in the end?"

This brought Blake up short, and his eyes automatically rose to look up and right - as if trying to spot his right horn, which had gotten its tip cut off during the terrifying battle against Arthenia, just before they reached the Dragon Utopia. "I... see your point. Having no sense of guilt doesn't mean there won't be any consequences for your actions. Doing something like that to an experienced and skilled adventurer, and then leaving her alive, was a big mistake. One that got Inferand killed, along with Takharsis-knows how many other dragons. And nearly us as well. And then there was that young gold I had my fun with back at the Mausoleum of the Golden Knight... wound up causing a spot of bother down the road too. But..."

Anitra quickly lifted her free hand, interrupting him. "Yes, yes, I know. A half-mad slave-girl isn't likely to come after us for revenge. That's not the point, though. The point is that just because you don't feel guilt, that doesn't mean you don't know the difference between right and wrong. Good and evil. And... maybe while we were on the road, fighting to survive, searching desperately for the tablet-pieces, taking the 'evil' path was understandable. It's often the easiest, most expedient one, after all. But now? We don't need to anymore. We've reached our goal. All our needs are met. And what's more, we're heroes to the dragons here. Don't you want to live up to that, too?"

Blake sighed, twisting his body around once more, and pushing himself up on all fours, sending a small tidal-wave rushing out from his body. "I suppose. And it hasn't escaped my notice that acting according to my nature goes against everything this place stands for. Heck, the whole plan at the moment is to foster cooperation and friendship with humans and other civilized races... and I know from Inferand that it's not just blacks like myself who lack any sort of empathy for non-dragons. They all do. And yet, they're inviting humans into their midst and treating them like visiting dignitaries..." Then he shrugged and started climbing out of the bath, shedding rivulets of water as he went. "Still, I can see the point in that, at least. A clear benefit in the form of trade-goods and skills we wouldn't have access to otherwise. Not to mention the potential long-term benefits of convincing the other races that trading with dragons is better than slaying them. But this idea of yours... where's the merit for us?"

Anitra opened and closed her mouth a few times as she struggled to find the answer. It was harder than it should have been - ­ but the fact was that she was mostly working off the dim memory of her past humanity, and an attempt at self-analysis based on her occasional bursts of empathy upon getting to know someone. The truth was that she barely understood it herself, and going from there to explaining it to Blake - ­ a being to whom caring about anyone other than her was a completely alien notion - ­ was simply a leap too far. Even above and beyond the dragons' natural inability to empathize with lesser beings, being a black dragon had left him isolated since infancy, preventing him from developing close relationships with his own kind either.

Inferand, the Red Dragon who had taken Blake in, had been as a father to him. Basically raised him. And yet, as soon as she turned up, Blake had turned his back on him and left on a journey with no plans to return, without a second thought. When they did return and found Inferand dead, Blake had clearly grieved, and had gone to some pains to arrange a proper funeral for the old red - ­ but then he'd shaken off the grief like it was nothing, and moved on. Even encountering Arthenia and discovering that the death had not been an accident had failed to carry any real impact - ­ he'd been too occupied trying to stop Arthenia from killing Anitra to spare any thoughts for vengeance. And just now, when the subject had come up, there hadn't been any twinge of regret or grief in his voice, no pained pause, no sign of any particular emotional engagement beyond wry amusement.

To someone so emotionally isolated, to entirely fixated on a single, all-important being - ­ a role she felt intensely blessed to carry - ­ explaining the need to help a single, nameless slave-girl, who carried no importance whatsoever in the grand scheme of things, was the next best thing to impossible. So she didn't try. "Well, the merit is that it gives us an excuse to visit Mirage City again - ­ including the very human Sultan, with whom I developed a good rapport last time, and who is several thousand years old and the ruler of a city rife with powerful spells and enchantments forgotten to the rest of the world. There's a decent chance that he has some ideas about spells to recover memories of past life - ­ heck, he might even have access to the necessary magic himself. And since we're demonstrating our benevolent, heroic nature by showing up to help an innocent girl, he'll have every reason to aid us in any way he can. You with me?"

Blake's eyes lit up, and he spread his wings to shake the last of the bathwater out of their folds. "Ah! I had not thought of that. Yes, excellent idea. Especially since I shouldn't have to wait outside this time around - ­ you did tell him about me when you chatted him up last time, right?" Anitra nodded, gave him a thumbs-up, and headed towards the servants' quarters to pack her bags, letting the travel-planning run in the background of her mind while larger, more complex thoughts buzzed on the surface. There was no way she could explain it to Blake with a lecture, or with words. But she felt confident that with time, he'd come to understand it through experience. By feeling her emotions through their telepathic link, if nothing else. The truth was, after all, that while their shared, draconic nature insulated them from the sickening feeling of guilt that haunted most of those who did evil, that special glow - ­ the so-called 'warm and fuzzies' - ­ that came from doing something good, remained just as pleasant. Being good _felt_good, and Blake would learn that - ­ sooner or later. She had to believe in that.

Bashir yawned as he leaned heavily against the back of the gatehouse, drowsy in the noonday heat. The cramped gatehouse offered shade, and a magically-cooled pot of water stood in the corner, from which he frequently took a draught - ­ but it was still hellishly hot, out here beyond the walls, with the shimmering sands of the great desert stretching for miles in all direction. One never really appreciated how much the Twin Rivers cooled Mirage City itself until one stepped outside - ­ which, of course, very few residents ever did. But_someone_ had to sit beyond the gate, to welcome and vet the occasional caravans and other, rarer, visitors.

No caravans were expected today, however, so his presence out there in the heat seemed annoyingly unnecessary. True, one could never _really_know when a caravan might show up - ­ and even an unknown, unexpected face might gain entry if they had brought good merchandise and passed muster. Still, if anything were to interrupt his sweaty boredom, it was far more likely to be a surprise of the unpleasant sort. Caravans were welcomed - ­ warily or not, depending on how familiar they were, but sometimes others showed up. Travelers, explorers, adventurers... and unless someone within the city was willing to vouch for them, or they otherwise could present some particularly persuasive reason why they should be given entry, they were turned away. Some of them did not take that well.

The thought made him rub his chest, feeling the comforting texture of his enchanted mail-shirt. His spear stood nearby, its tip glowing with some of the most potent enchantments Mirage City could offer. And beyond the gates, an entire squadron of guards waited - ­ in far cooler chambers, damn them - ­ ready to leap to his aid, should it be necessary. And yet, despite all that, no-one wanted to be the one, solitary guard stuck outside the walls, forced to tell some heavily-armed and ill-tempered adventuring-type that he couldn't get in. Just one more reason why his current duty was, without a doubt, the least favored in the entire city. And he was stuck here for the next week - -­ just because he'd gotten drunk while on duty that ONE time! Hardly fair.

A glimpse of movement in the desert made his heart suddenly accelerate, and he jumped forwards to lean out of the guardhouse's tall, narrow window for a better look. He almost hadn't seen it, despite being right in front of him... a tall figure, clad in a white cloak, moving through the sands, directly towards him. In the sharp glare of the sun, the white cloak blended into the sand remarkably well; whoever it was must have come over the dunes several minutes ago without him even noticing. It certainly wasn't a caravan, nor even a scout from one ­ but it was obviously someone who had visited the city before. Not only were they heading straight for the city gates, despite them being hidden behind an impenetrable veil of illusions, the cloak was also of a familiar cut.

Uncertainty warred with fear in his head. Nothing about this made sense. Now that he was looking straight at it, he was sure the cloak came from Mirage City. It was the sort of thing you might see a nobleman or wealthy merchant wear, if he had to venture out in the city during the cold of the night, or during a sandstorm. This hinted at a wealthy trader of some sort, who had visited the city before and purchased a cloak at that time. Meanwhile, finding the city gates without having the stars above to navigate from was a difficult task for all but the most sharp-eyed travelers; even those caravans who had visited several times mostly chose to approach during the evening or early morning. This one was doing it with ease. But if it was, indeed, a wealthy and experienced trader... why would he be approaching the city alone and on foot? No sane person would willingly enter the desert without a camel, horse or other beast for conveyance. This traveler, meanwhile, wasn't even carrying any visible luggage. It just didn't add up!

Taking a deep breath, he pushed himself upright and grabbed his spear. There was no point losing his head so quickly. The mystery would resolve itself when the mysterious traveler reached him. He was, after all, the gatekeeper - ­ no-one entered the city without his say-so. He did his best to assume a stern, authoritative expression, but he could not stop himself from gripping his magical spear tight enough for his knuckles to turn white. His concern only grew as the traveler got closer - ­ as the distance shrank, he began to make out details. Like the fact that there seemed to be some decidedly feminine curves underneath that cloak. None of the merchants who frequented the city were women; something to do with the cargo they usually carried, perhaps. But... a memory was tickling the back of his mind. Something he'd heard in the guardroom, months ago... another sentinel had mentioned being surprised to see a beautiful woman wearing an expensive, white cloak leave the city, carrying the Sultan's Seal to prove she was no escaped slave - ­ though no-one had allowed such a woman entry.

Yeah. It had been a weird day, now that he thought about it. Same day that a naked, dazed-looking woman showed up at the gates carrying a letter for the Sultan. That had caused some kind of confusion. Was this the same white-cloaked woman from back then? And if so, was he in for another bizarre day? He forced himself to relax, and stood at attention. If it was her, she was some sort of acquaintance to the Immortal Sultan, and it wouldn't do to present a poor image. If she was here to visit him, and complained of a slovenly or rude reception at the gates, things would not go well for him. Not well at all.

A barely-perceptible shimmer was visible in the air around the white-cloaked woman as she crossed the threshold of the magical barrier that served as the first and greatest line of defense for Mirage City. As she stopped before his guardhouse, he became completely convinced it had to be that same woman he'd heard of before - ­ certainly matched the description he'd been given! Jet-black hair, ivory skin, full red lips, and strange, inhuman eyes - ­ sparkling blue like sapphires. The smile she gave him made his heart jump, and it was no longer out of fear. "Greetings. I seek entry into the city." A polite greeting, and one he knew exactly how he was supposed to answer. "I see. Do you have any identification or proof of access?"

The white cloak rustled, and he got a peek of what was beneath - a lot of bare skin, some minimalistic black armor, and a flash of crimson - ­ before a slender, long-fingered hand emerged carrying the Seal of the Sultan. It sparkled in the sun - ­ partly because it was carved from a single, semi-precious stone (in this case turquoise), and partly due to the potent enchantments woven into it. Checking to make sure he was wearing the enchanted bracelet that was part of the gatekeeper's regalia, he reached out his hand towards the seal and watched in satisfaction as the clear hunk of polished quartz set into it began to glow green. This proved that the seal had, indeed, been given to her by the Sultan himself - ­ if the Seal was ever stolen, or the proper owner killed, the enchantments would detect it - ­ and his bracelet would have glowed red instead. The same magic was imprinted into parchment or vellum when the seal was used to stamp a letter, proving its veracity beyond doubt. Very few people had such seals, and it was usually only the stamped letters that a simple sentinel like himself saw pass, but this certainly confirmed that this woman was who he'd suspected she was.

"It checks out. In the name of our Immortal Sultan, Haroun Al-Rashid, I welcome you to Mirage City." The ceremonial words felt strange and stilted in his mouth. He was used to greeting simple caravans, but those didn't rate the whole 'in the name of the Sultan' welcome. The beautiful woman nodded, smiling again. "Thank you. And now that I've proven my bonafides... might I assume that I can bring my steed with me into the city as well?" He nodded, automatically, feeling somewhat blindsided. Well, if she'd left her camel or horse or whatnot on the other side of the dunes, that would explain the whole 'walking on foot through the desert' aspect of her arrival, but why would she have done something like that?

Then she grinned at him, turned around, and whistled piercingly with two fingers in her mouth. A gust rose from beyond the dunes, sending dust-devils dancing, and an immense, black shape appeared - ­ sporting broad, bat-like wings, and scales so reflective that they were almost blinding. He barely even had time to parse the sudden appearance of such a terrifying beast before it landed heavily in the sands before him, right next to the mysterious woman, who was still smiling. "Don't worry about opening the gate..." she said, as she turned to walk towards the ferocious, jet-black dragon that was, apparently, her 'steed'. "We'll just fly right over the wall. Just make sure you pass word to the guards inside that we are welcome guests, not uninvited invaders." He nodded quickly, several times in a row, not trusting himself to speak. This white-cloaked woman really was a herald of strange days! Well, at least he'd have a story for the guardroom that'd be good for free drinks for a while...

Anitra grinned as she watched the palace-guards scurrying about the open courtyard in front of the Sultan's palace, while Blake gently landed next to the large fountain that stood in its center. During her previous visit, she'd had to sneak around in the dark of the night, avoiding the prying eyes of those very same guards - ­ now _they_looked like they wished they had somewhere to hide. Before she could dismount, however, a portly, shaven-headed man with an androgynous face and an emerald-green robe emerged from the palace gates and trotted towards her. The Chief Eunuch, Sadi - ­ and judging by the determined way he was heading towards her, doing his best to hide his nervousness in the face of such a great and terrible beast as Blake, he was carrying a message from the Sultan.

Instinctively, she looked up, and her sharp eyes easily spotted the balcony near the top of the wide, central tower of the palace - ­ the very place where the Sultan himself liked to stand, watching the city below. And there he was, leaning over the balustrade to look down at her with a broad, boyish grin. Catching her eyes, he winked and made a 'follow me' gesture before turning around and disappearing into the palace again. Then Sadi cleared his throat, and she lowered her gaze again. "The Sultan states that he will be happy to receive you in his private garden. I believe you... know the way." His feminine contralto, however courteous, had a noticeable edge of disapproval; he'd never liked her, and probably never would. Might have something to do with the way she'd infiltrated the palace on his watch - ­ specifically the Harem, which was his responsibility - ­ and made him look like a fool.

Nonetheless, she gave him a broad smile in reply. "I do indeed, Sadi. I'll just... fly right over there, then." Blake, listening in, gave an annoyed snort, bunched his legs and spread his wings. In a mighty jump, they were airborne again, sending Sadi skidding a solid foot backwards as the powerful takeoff-gust caught his voluminous robes. A few more powerful wingbeats took them around the broad, central tower, above the palace buildings, towards the small, isolated garden in the rear - ­ sandwiched between three buildings and the back wall of the palace complex - ­ that was the Sultan's personal retreat. She'd spent quite a bit of time there during her previous stay, some of it rather pleasant, and some of it... decidedly less so.

Landing there was no mean feat - ­ there wasn't quite room for Blake's full wingspan between the buildings, necessitating a rather jarring impact with wings partially folded. Taking off again would likely involve using the back wall as a jump-off point, so hopefully the Sultan wouldn't mind a couple of talon-marks on it. The garden was empty when they landed, though not for long - ­ moments later, a mob of servants streamed from the side-entrances, trying their best to avoid looking at the giant black monster that had appeared in their midst as they set up the Sultan's pavilion, decking it out with the requisite throw-pillows, pitchers of drink and snack-trays.

Seconds after they were done the Sultan appeared, flanked by the dazzling First Wife - ­ clad, as always, in a sapphire-blue dress of that diaphanous material favored by women in those parts - ­ and her large pet tiger, Rajah. Anitra, who had dismounted from Blake's back while the servants worked, grinned and waved at them while keeping a hand on Blake's neck. A reminder to them that they had nothing to fear from him - ­ though she needn't have bothered. Both of them were unabashedly ogling him like the rare beast he was - ­ perhaps not surprising, considering the love for rare animals indicated by the existence of the Royal Menagerie .

After a quick round of introductions - ­ during which the Sultan seemed to take inordinate pleasure in shaking one of Blake's talons - ­ Anitra was invited to join the couple in the hastily-erected pavilion for dates and fruit-juice, while servants were sent to fetch some solid sides of raw meat for Blake. Sinking down into one of the sinfully-comfortable pillows that the locals used in lieu of chairs, Anitra looked around at the silken pavilion, and suddenly snorted. "Say, your Sultanship... why d'ya get this thing set up here every time you go out? Why not just have a gazebo or something built here? Seems like it'd be easier." The Sultan blinked, then laughed. "You know, it hadn't occurred to me to do that! Every time I decide to go to the gardens, this pavilion is standing ready for me there... guess it must be quite the bother for the servants. Says something about how long I've been stuck being a Sultan that I couldn't think that far... pah."

He shook his head wearily, then shrugged. "But, I rather doubt you came all this way just to discuss outbuildings. So please, tell me how I can help you... and by all means, call me Aladdin. It is so rare that I get to speak to someone who is not one of my subjects, and therefore is not compelled by tradition and custom to shower me with various grandiose titles and honorifics. Some days, I almost can't remember the name I was born with..." The First Wife - ­ who was looking more awake than Anitra could recall seeing her - ­ interrupted his morose monologue, however. "Come, now... If you need a reminder, you can always just come to me. It's not 'Sultan!' I scream when we're together, is it?" Her voice was seductive as she leaned over to him, feeding him a date by hand. The smile the two shared held a deep and abiding love and tenderness, accentuated by the naughty undertones in their gaze. A relationship that had lasted for millennia, and remained as close as ever. Suddenly, she found herself wondering if her and Blake would be smiling at each other that way in four, five, six hundred years...

Then she shook it off and cleared her throat. "Ahem. Very well, then, Aladdin. I've got a couple of reasons to make the trip here, but first things first... right after I left last time, I sent a girl your way with a letter. Might I ask what happened to her?" The Sultan - ­ Aladdin - ­ blinked as he tore his eyes away from his wife and got his head back into a businesslike mindset, then grinned at her and nodded. "Ah yes, the crazy naked woman! I'm not likely to forget anytime soon. I had my healers check her over ­ best they could say was that she'd suffered some severe damage to her vaginal interior, coupled with some sort of mental trauma, putting her in a rather obsessive mindset. Not surprising, considering what she's been through." He cast an arched-eyebrow glance at Blake, who just shrugged, before continuing.

"They threw some healing-spells at her, and came up with some potions... seemed to help her a bit, but... not much. So I gave her a job, like you suggested. Officially, she's now an Assistant Keeper of the Royal Menagerie. Unofficially, she sees to the needs of some of the larger animals, particularly those that lack a mate of their own species - ­ like Abu, whom she handles with nearly as much panache as you did. I also arranged for some suitable... toys for her. She goes absolutely insane if she doesn't have something inside of her regularly." He shrugged, scratching his short, well-kept beard. "That's about it. Do you need to talk to her? I can summon her, if you like."

Anitra nodded quickly, and got up to start rummaging through Blake's saddlebags. "Please do. I recently found out just what kind of damage she's likely to have sustained, and frankly, I'm not surprised that your healers couldn't do much for her. I brought some special salve that should do the trick... ah, there it is!" Triumphantly, she pulled out the jar of salve she'd had prepared back at the Dragon Utopia, and as she turned, caught a glimpse of a silent, fleet-footed servant disappearing around the corner of the palace, in the direction she knew (from experience) was where the Royal Menagerie lay. Presumably to fetch the 'Assistant Keeper'. The first thing to arrive from that direction, however, was a cart loaded with bloody chunks of meat - ­ Blake's dinner, presumably diverted from the Menagerie's carnivorous residents.

While Blake began to chow down, Anitra returned to the pavilion for another one of those sticky little pastries called 'Baklava', leaving the jar of salve on a pillow as she began to explain her other reason for visiting. Aladdin nodded and stroked his beard as she spoke of past lives, then winced. "Enchantments to seek lost memories of past lives? I know of a few, sure. But for it to work on a Black Dragon... our mages are skilled, wielding many secrets lost to the inexorable passage of time elsewhere, but I don't know..." Then he looked up, and glanced towards the side of the garden. "Ah, saved by the bell! I'll give it some thought while you administer that salve you brought." Sure enough, there she was, appearing through the same broad side-gate of the garden that she had once seen an elephant arrive by. Tan-skinned, curvaceous, black-haired, and quite beautiful - ­ when her face wasn't wrinkled by an odd mixture of fear, pain and... sudden desire? Anitra blinked in surprise, then followed the girl's gaze to Blake. Yeah... that'd do it. Some conflicting emotions there to be sure.

She gestured at the girl. "Over here. Come!" As her gaze shifted, the expression on her face became weighted more towards fear and apprehension, and even exposure to Anitra's best 'friendly smile' could not change that. Instead, she just glanced over at the Sultan, who nodded curtly - ­ only then did she approach, wringing her hands, eyes darting as if expecting a monster to leap out behind the pavilion. Well, a monster other than Blake, obviously. Sighing, Anitra shook her head and grabbed the tub of salve. "Stop worrying. I mean you no harm... this time. In fact, I'm here to... undo some of the harm you suffered when last we met. This medicine I have right here will make you feel better. Lie down and spread your legs - ­ I will apply it."

Her eyes were still darting, but the girl did as she was told - ­ if anything, the whole 'lie down and spread your legs' bit seemed to go over easier than anything else. She immediately hiked the simple, white cotton skirt she wore up around her waist, and reclined on one of the large throw-pillows, shapely thighs spread wide. Anitra whistled slightly at what she saw there. The woman was wearing a leather girdle that would not have looked out of place around Melora's waist - especially considering the circumference of the dildo it was holding in place. Carefully unhooking the four attachment-points, Anitra carefully pulled it out - it seemed to be carved from marble, but weighed practically nothing. Some unfamiliar material, perhaps, or more of the enchantments that seemed omnipresent in this desert city that time forgot. It was easily as thick as her arm, and while the first few inches above the base were lined with thick ridges, the rest seemed dotted with large bumps and dull spikes.

She moaned gently as it was removed, her stomach-muscles flexing visibly. Presumably, having that huge, heavily-textured thing inside her all the time, shifting and moving with every step, was the only reason she was able to move around normally. Kept the fried nerves in there from overwhelming her senses. As soon as it was gone - ­ its white surface glistening wetly in the sunlight - ­ she began to shudder and wince, gripping the pillow tightly even as pain creased her red-dotted forehead. Anitra, however, was ready - ­ and quickly removed the tub's lid, smeared the contents across her hand, and plunged it into the wide-open, dark-red orifice that the hefty dildo had just vacated.

The shudders were replaced by appreciative moans as she thrust her arm deeper inside - ­ to the elbow, just as easily as last time. This time, though, she was feeling around inside, running her salve-coated fingers over the burned-out tissue within. She found the edges of the cervix, torn open, with large patches of burned tissue between the bits. The womb itself was a total loss, a popped balloon lined with third-degree burns. At this point, the only purpose it served was to add a half-domed ceiling to the wide-open passage that her pussy had become. Small favors, though - ­ with the fallopian tubes burned shut and the ovaries cooked by the heat, she was presumably permanently rid of her periods.

A generous layer of the salve was applied to the ruin of her womb, before Anitra had to pull her hand out to scoop up some more. There was enough to go around - ­ lathered all the way up and down the stretched orifice. Bit by bit, the girl stopped groaning in discomfort whenever Anitra pulled her hand out. Finally, as Anitra finished the application by smearing a bit of the salve over her fleshy labia, she was just lying there, looking up at the roof of the pavilion with an expression of wonderment on her face while running her hand up and down the pattern of stretchmarks that lined her stomach from the groin to halfway past the navel.

Straightening up, Anitra looked around for something to wipe her arm - ­ which was, by now, rather thoroughly gooey from the semi-liquid mix of salve and the girl's free-flowing juices - ­ and found a pair of towels (one wet, the other dry) being proffered by a servant with an artfully neutral facial expression. She could not resist grinning as she cleaned off her arm - ­ presumably, the Sultan's personal servants had gotten used to assisting with cleaning after all sorts of sordid events. "That should do it... better let her rest a bit, now." She then declared, looking over at the Sultan, who was busy feeding his wife a small confection, even as she fed her pet tiger a chunk of red meat.

Wiping his fingers absentmindedly on his white shirt, he nodded and leaned back in the pillows again with a sigh. "Well, that's all well and good, but I fear I haven't had much in the way of bright ideas during the interval. I know of several methods - ­ artifacts, arcane rituals, complex spells... but I would not expect any of them to work on a beast so famously immune to magic. Still - ­ you probably know more about black dragons than I do... so if you like, I can tell you about the ways I'm familiar with, and you can judge for yourself?" She quickly nodded and got comfortable (right next to the snack-tray and a pitcher of fresh fruit-juice), listening attentively as the Sultan told her of the various means and ways he knew of, peppering the accounts with anecdotes from his adventuring days and millennium-long reign alike.

About an hour later, she'd learned a lot about past-life-exploration magic, and concluded that the Sultan actually was a pretty skilled storyteller himself ­ - but unfortunately, she'd also been forced to concede that his initial judgment was apt. All of the methods he knew of relied on direct application of magic, and all of those spells would fizzle out the moment they hit Blake's jet-black scales. He nodded sadly when she told him so. "As I feared. I am sorry I was not able to help you in your search, Anitra. I know well how frustrating it can be to hit a dead end when you are on an important quest..." As his voice trailed off, however, another piped in unexpectedly. "I know a method. One that might work on a dragon."

Surprised, Anitra turned around to see the former slavegirl, sitting up now, her eyes sharp and aware for the first time. "You do?" was the only thing she could think of to say in reply. The girl nodded, a faint smile on her lips. The pain and fear had disappeared form her face, leaving it startlingly beautiful once again. "I believe so, yes. But first, allow me to thank you for your help. I feel... better now. Whole, for the first time in ages." She bowed, then, from the hips, and Anitra felt suddenly embarrassed. "Oh, it was no big thing. I was the one who handed you over to Blake in the first place, so all I was really doing was fixing some of the damage I had caused. And it's not like you've been completely healed..."

She just nodded, however, smiling slightly. "I know. My body has been reshaped by Lord Blake's attention, and will remain so for the rest of this life. But the pain is gone, as well as the itching, and the feeling of aching emptiness no longer bothers me. I will tell you - ­ I have been bought and sold, raped and abused many times, by many people. But you are the first to show such kindness as to ease my burden, rather than merely add to it." She hesitated for a moment, then, and then quickly swiveled to bow in the direction of the Sultan. "Except for you, of course, Great Sultan. I am eternally grateful for the kindness you showed me in taking me in, and hope that you will continue to let me occupy the position you entrusted me with." He shrugged it off with a grin, clearly more used to effusive gratitude than Anitra was. "Think nothing of it, my dear. You have been most helpful in caring for the animals in my menagerie, and I will happily let you continue to do so as long as you wish. Now that you seem so lucid, however, might I ask for your name? When you first came into my service, you... did not talk much."

A thoughtful look crossed her face. "My... name? I have not had one in a long time. As a slave, I had no right to one. It was my owner's choice what to call me." Then her face brightened. "But ... I am not a slave anymore, am I?" The Sultan grinned, shaking his head. "No, you are not. You are a valued employee - ­ a servant at my castle." She smiled again, more broadly this time. "Then, I will tell you - ­ my name is Satyameva Mahajan. That was the name I had as a young girl, before they took me." The foreign syllables rolled somewhat awkwardly off her tongue ­- - it was clear that she had not used the dialect of her homeland in a long time.

Anitra cleared her throat. "Well, nice to meet you, Satya. Now, you were saying something about 'knowing a method'?" Satya quickly refocused her attention on Anitra, and now her smile took on a faintly mischievous cast. "I do indeed. I heard what you and the Great Sultan spoke of. Ways to look into past lives. Ways that might bypass the magical immunity of a dragon. I have seen such a thing - ­ and I will happily tell you of it and where to find it..." Her eyes now panned to Blake who, having finished his bloody feast, was listening in with great interest. "...if, in return, I might receive the attentions of Lord Blake one more time."

Blake and Anitra did a surprised slow-blink in unison. The Sultan whistled quietly. The First Wife giggled, quickly covering her mouth with a dainty hand. Blake was the first to find his tongue. "Are you serious? I find it hard to believe that you've forgotten how I basically baked your insides the first time..." She, however, just shrugged off the argument, an indifferent expression on her face. "I remember, yes - ­ the burning, boiling agony. But that was only the first time. All of the subsequent times, there was no pain. Only pleasure - ­ despite the condition I was in. I wish to know how great that pleasure might be now that I have been healed." Blake scratched his chin with a razor-sharp talon as he contemplated this. "Hmm... well, it's the blood that's the problem... so I guess as long as you don't bleed, there's no danger. And I don't suppose my size is much of a problem for you anymore..."

A quick, telepathic discussion took place between Blake and Anitra, and they quickly came to the same conclusion - ­ whatever Satya's reasons were for wanting to go back to that particular well, fulfilling her wish would be little trouble (and probably quite enjoyable for Blake), so there was little reason to refuse her. And if she actually turned out to have the answer they were looking for, well, that would be quite serendipitous. So after a moment's hesitation, Blake shrugged his mighty shoulders and pushed himself up from the ground. "Very well, then. If you really want it, I'll be happy to give it to you. But I do expect you to have something useful to say afterwards..."

Nodding eagerly, Satya jumped up and left the pavilion, pulling off her simple cotton clothes as she walked, revealing a very fit and entirely naked body beneath. Before Blake could start rolling over, however, she had slipped underneath him and started crawling beneath his belly, towards the place between his legs where his cock had begun to peek out of its sheath, spurred on by her obvious willingness. "I want to feel your weight, your power, on top of me again... and within me..." she whispered, and his sharp, draconic ears easily picked it up.

Her lips were soon locked around the tip of his cock, sucking eagerly while her hands caressed the shaft as it emerged from its sheath. It did not take long before he was fully erect and ready - ­ and as soon as she saw this, she turned around on her knees and lowered her head and chest to the soft grass beneath, shaking her ass in his direction. "Please... enter me... take me with all your might..." she groaned, and Blake licked his lips as he felt his desires begin to surge. He had no intention of taking her 'with all his might' - after all, they rather needed her alive at the end, so she could give them the information they needed, and despite the rather forcible adaption-process her body had gone through, she was still not as sturdy as Anitra. Still, that did not mean that he was about to ignore such an invitation...

Thrusting forwards, he easily found his mark - ­ after all, her pussy hung permanently open, gaping broadly. Between the remains of the salve and her swiftly-flowing juices, lubrication was not an issue either - ­ and he slid inside her with remarkable ease. She was, in fact, rather more loose than Anitra, since she lacked the DragonRider's supernatural elasticity. However, as he smoothly thrust forwards, feeling the remains of her cervix caress his cockhead and finally bouncing off the back of her womb, he was mostly struck by how well she FIT him. Her pussy had been torn apart, then melted into a new shape while wrapped around his shaft, ensuring that they fit together like key and lock. And judging by the way she was moaning underneath him, she felt the same way...

As Blake dug his talons and claws into the ground and began to thrust in earnest, the tan-skinned body of Satya practically disappearing underneath his black-scaled bulk, Anitra leaned back in the pavilion and tried to restrain herself from scratching her pussy. The erotic display before her was rapidly making her horny, and the fact that her pussy had been largely neglected (that is, neglected by really large cocks) for months now did not help. It just didn't seem fair that some mostly-ordinary human girl was now taking Blake's full size in her pussy, while the DragonRider Anitra couldn't! Curiously, she let her gaze wander across the other residents of the pavilion, checking to see if they were as aroused as she was. Judging by the way the Sultan and First Wife were staring at Blake and Satya, licking their lips and shifting on their pillows, they probably were... but then her eyes fell on the tiger. Rajah, that was his name, right? The First Wife's personal pet and fuckbuddy. _He_didn't seem to care much about the sordid display - ­ he was just eyeing the tray of bloody meat-chunks the First Wife had been feeding him from with idle curiosity.

"You know... she said conversationally, breaking the silence in the pavilion. "Now that I think about it, I've never been with a tiger..." The First Wife immediately tore her eyes away from Blake and glared at Anitra, leaning over to hug the big cat's head. "Hey! Hands off, he's mine!" Anitra, however, was not so easily deterred, and sidled up closer with a grin. "Aww, don't be like that... lend him to me for a bit, won't you? I'll make it worth your while... or did you not hear from your fellow wives what kind of impact I made in the Harem?" A glimpse of curiosity appeared in her sharp, brown eyes, and she licked her lips before shrugging it off. "Pah. You think I haven't spent hundreds - ­ nay, thousands! - ­ of days and nights in that Harem, partaking of the pleasures of my sister-wives? I doubt you know any tricks I haven't seen already."

The Sultan's attention was now split between the hardcore dragon-fucking in front of him, and the developing discussion. He was grinning broadly while holding a snack-tray, snapping up crispy tidbits as he watched. Anitra flashed a grin in his direction as she carried on her argument. "Ah, yes... you slept through the night when I told your... I mean, our husband about all my adventures. Like that time I learned the sapphic secrets of the elusive Forest Fairies. Judging from the reaction of the lovely ladies in the harem, those techniques were certainly news to them!" The spark of curiosity returned, now burning brighter, and she bit her lip while running a hand through Rajah's thick fur.

The Sultan suddenly sighed, shaking his head with mock sadness. "Come, now, Jasmine... you'll happily share me with dozens of girls, but you won't share Rajah with even one? I'm going to start wondering which one of us you care for more..." She lifted an eyebrow in his direction, then laughed melodiously. "Well, that won't do at all... guess you're right anyway. I'm just being silly." Then she shrugged, looking at Anitra again. "Fine, then - ­ you can borrow him, just once. But I hope those skills of yours are as impressive as you claim." She was still petting his head with one hand, slowly stroking his headfur... but at the same time, her other hand had snuck underneath his sleekly muscular body, and was now stroking something between his hind legs instead. Like magic, the big cat suddenly started looking interested in something other than the snack-trays...

Anitra grinned and quickly pulled off her bright-red armored panties - ­ deciding, on reflection, to leave the rest of her armor on. Rajah was_probably_ well-trained enough that his long, scimitar-like claws wouldn't come out during the festivities, but he did not seem to be under magical control, and mating with someone other than his mistress would clearly be a new experience, so... no sense taking chances. The dragonscale armor would deflect his claws easily if it came down to it. The Sultan - ­ who seemed to be dividing his attention equally between her and Blake - ­ grinned at her, a visible bulge forming on the front of his plain white pants. "Say, oh my dearest wife... think there's any room for your 'husband' somewhere in this affair?"

Glancing at the bulge, Anitra licked her lips and returned the grin. "Oh, I think we can work something out... in fact, I suspect I might be able to give you a new experience. Which isn't something that happens to you very often, is it?" His eyebrows shot up at this, and an intrigued smile replaced the mischievous one he'd been wearing so far. "Indeed it is not. And I must admit, I have my doubts that you can. You told me about your adventures already, after all, and nothing you've explored in those was really news to me. Well, some unusual twists here and there, but..." Anitra interrupted him with a beckoning finger, tutting. "Come, now, Aladdin... it's not like my adventures ended with my visit to your fair city. In fact, it was a while after my visit here that I found myself introduced - ­ somewhat forcibly - ­ to a sexual variant that I'd never even thought of. Come, lie down on your back here, and I'll show you..."

The Sultan was clearly happy to play along, and lay down across two pillows with an eager smile on his boyish face. Anitra returned the grin as she pulled down his pants, letting his raging erection spring into the air like a spring-loaded trap. Considering what she was used to, the size was nothing to write home about... but by human standards, it was quite hefty. Certainly bigger than the slender tool Direza was equipped with when under the influence of the 'Conjure Cock' spell. Probably quite close to the size of that one, unfortunate, poorly-equipped Centaur who had broadened her horizons during her stay amongst them.

Leaning over, she quickly engulfed it in her mouth, letting the head poke down her throat while her tongue ran a pattern across the smooth surface. Honestly, it had been so long since she last orally pleasured a human-sized cock, she wasn't even sure she really remembered the right techniques - ­ but fortunately, that wasn't really what she was after right now. She was mostly just trying to get it thoroughly lubricated - ­ but from the way the Sultan's back arched, it was also quite the pleasurable treatment despite her shortage of experience in that department.

Straightening up again, she looked briefly down at his tool - ­ glistening with a solid layer of saliva - ­ and nodded with satisfaction before quickly taking up position astride his hips. He looked up at her curiously as she spread open her pussy with two fingers, guiding his cock with the other hand, and lowered her hips to bring the two closer together... then exclaimed a little "Oh!" when she pushed his slippery cockhead against her urethra. She grimaced a bit at the sensation - ­ she was sure it would fit, but all things considered, it probably would have been a good idea to stretch it a bit with her fingers first. The Centaur usually had, come to think of it. But that would rather have ruined the surprise - ­ and the Centaur hadn't known just how inhumanly flexible she was.

And so, gritting her teeth against the straining pain, she continued to push her hips down - ­ feeling the veiny contours of his cock with incredible accuracy as it stretched open the narrow corridor inch by inch. Underneath her, the Sultan was sucking in breath, his eyes wide - ­ unless his taste in women ran to the very young, it was unlikely he had ever experienced such a degree of tightness before, and based on what she'd seen during her stay in his harem, that didn't seem likely. Finally, his cockhead popped out of the urethra and into her bladder proper, the tiny sphincter there clamping down behind the bulbous head with enough force to make him wince - ­ but even so, she continued until their hip-bones collided. His pubic hair tickled her clit, and she could feel his cockhead pushing against the back of her bladder. The pain in her urethra was rapidly fading as her supernaturally flexible tissue adjusted to the girth.

With a "Phew!" she then leaned forwards, resting her armor-clad breasts against his chest and leaving their faces bare inches apart as she whispered "That's something new, isn't it?" His face was somewhat contorted as he felt the vise-like tightness of her pisshole around his cock, but he managed to nod and squeeze out a "Definitely!" Grinning, she then looked up at the First Wife, who was gazing down at them with a bemused expression, and nodded towards her rear. With a shrug, she began to guide Rajah around, keeping a firm hand on his neck. "I have to warn you..." she interjected as she pushed the big cat towards Anitra's rear end, and watched him sniff interestedly at her arousal. "Tiger-dick is kind of an... acquired taste." Anitra just grinned up at her again. "You wouldn't believe how many tastes I've already acquired - ­ and I'm always eager to acquire more."

The First Wife shrugged, rolled her eyes, and then patted Anitra on the back. "Up, Rajah. Ride!" The tiger glanced suspiciously from one woman to the other for a few seconds, then made a feline shrug and jumped up on Anitra's back. His broad paws landed heavily on her upper back, driving home his sheer size - ­ and making Anitra hope that he really was as well-trained as he seemed, considering that his claws were now positioned well above the upper edge of her armor. Well, it WAS enchanted, so there'd still be some protection, but not so much that she wouldn't feel 10 points of razor-sharp penetration up there, if it came to that. She had little time to worry about that, however - ­ she could feel him prodding at her groin, and had to quickly adjust her body to make sure he hit the right hole.

She moaned slightly as his feline erection hit home, sliding between her labia and into the dripping-wet orifice beyond. It was smaller and tighter than usual, what with being squeezed partially shut by her widely-stretched urethra, but the well-trained tiger seemed quite untroubled by this, quickly pumping his powerful hips forwards and driving his cock home. It wasn't exactly overwhelming in size ­ barely larger than the one currently lodged deep in her bladder, really - ­ but there was another reason she was happy the arrangement wasn't the other way around. She could already feel them - ­ sharp irregularities around the head, like a rough texture. She'd already made the connection when he began to pull back for his next thrust, and those points raked across her insides like a natural shredder. Barbs! Dozens of tiny, bony barbs, covering the head.

Her pussy had taken a lot of abuse throughout her adventures, so these tiny, jagged tools of torture weren't about to draw blood. Nor was the pain beyond the point where her masochistic tendencies could convert it into just another sort of pleasure. Still, she could not suppress a certain amount of shuddering at the sheer intensity of the stimulation - ­ something her pussy hadn't gotten much of lately. The First Wife grinned as she squatted down in front of her - ­ naked, now, having apparently discarded her fancy clothes with remarkable speed. "Told you it was an acquired taste." Anitra, however, just returned the grin, showing her teeth. "Yeah. Reminds me of that time I got gang-banged by griffons. They had the same sort of barbs. I hope he's got staying-power to go with them!"

The First Wife nodded, her smile taking on a certain, dreamy quality. "Oh, he does. Tigers are great predators, after all, so they have little reason to rush. And Rajah here is... well-trained. Now, about the payment for his services..." Anitra nodded, and licked her lips as the First Wife's hands guided her head down between those slender, well-toned thighs, to a rose-colored orifice nestled among tanned skin and topped by a small, well-kept bush. Now, _this_she had no trouble remembering how to deal with, and her tongue quickly began to trace intricate designs on the sensitive flesh. Meanwhile, Rajah began to thrust faster and more insistently, moving his barbed cock with all the strength of an apex predator, and she began to move her hips in an undulating, circular motion - ­ pushing back against his thrusts, then down on top of the Sultan's dick, then forwards and upwards off them both.

It was quite the task, bringing to mind the oral arts she'd learned from Pfil and Pamila way back when, and applying them with a deft tongue, even as she began to soar on the pain-mixed pleasure radiating out from her groin. A simultaneous vaginal and urethral penetration was something entirely new to her, and on top of that was the unfamiliar sensation of the tiger's barb-lined tool. New sexual experiences always hit her harder even than old favorites, and she could feel the first orgasm start to build in her abdomen, even as the First Wife's moans rose through the octaves. Rajah was fucking her with long, powerful thrusts, showing every promise of having just as much staying-power as the First Wife had advertised - ­ and judging by the way the Sultan underneath her was flexing his hips to meet hers, he was enjoying the new experience too. With her face caught between the First Wife's thighs, however, she could only hope that Blake was enjoying himself just as much as everyone else seemed to be...

He was, indeed - ­ Satya's pussy fit perfectly around his tool, but it was still tight in an undeniably un-dragonlike way. The sensation of a tight human snatch wrapped around his cock was one he'd missed just as much as Anitra ever since they found out about her pregnancy, and now that he was finally getting it again, he made sure to enjoy it to the fullest. The cloud of pheromones and sundry sex-smells rising from the passionate-intertwined trio under the silken pavilion helped too, and as his nostrils flared, he pounded the fragile, human girl underneath him with greater force and power - ­ forgetting somewhat that she wasn't Anitra, at least on a subconscious level.

Not that she was sending any signals that might alert him to the need to slow down. In fact, she was moaning enthusiastically, and moving her body to meet his as much as her position allowed. Between the feeling of his cock fitting perfectly inside her, and it being the first sex she'd had since the burned nervous tissue inside her pussy had been repaired, the pleasure was intense, even mind-blowing. Not that her mind required much blowing at the moment.

The magical salve had done its job well, repairing the heat-induced damage to her genitals. It had not, however, been designed to deal with mental damage or trauma, so while she was lucid for the first time in months - ­ and free of the pervasive need to stuff her pussy in order to quiet the itching in the damaged nerves there - ­ she could not be claimed to be particularly sane. The pain and trauma Blake had inflicted - ­ partially unintentionally, partially not - ­ when he had first screwed her had left her fundamentally broken, her mind realigned along simple pain/pleasure lines. Now that the pain was gone, that simply left a single concept to consume her entirely...

Pleasure. It was all about pleasure. Not so much her own, though that was certainly a nice fringe-benefit, but rather that of others. Because she had pleasured Lord Blake and Lady Anitra, they had spared her, and even healed her. Because she pleasured the beasts of the Royal Menagerie, she had been given her freedom, a roof over her head, and food on her table. Even now, as her body and freshly-healed pussy shook under Lord Blake's assault, she knew she was causing him pleasure, and that mattered far more than the sickening shockwaves that his every thrust sent rolling through her already-battered internal organs.

Indeed, now that the pervasive itching wasn't bothering her anymore, she realized that she'd been far too selfish. She'd welcomed the elephant, the rhinoceros, the giraffe, and many other large, powerful animals in her pussy, but mostly just to allay her own suffering. From her long experience as a sex-slave - ­ and particularly her time spent with Lord Blake - she knew well that there were many other acts that brought males even more pleasure than such a simple union... and then and there, her mind wracked by pleasure as her body was shaken by the violent mating, she swore silently that she'd do better from now on.

And indeed, she would. In fact, in the near future, her name would become a colloquialism amongst the palace staff for 'working way too hard' or 'trying too hard to please the Sultan'. "You're going to turn into another Satya!" a servant might remark to another if he started pushing himself too hard in an effort to gain recognition. The hard workers of the palace, however, were often quick to point out that Satya's 'hard work' had had a real impact. The Sultan had started spending a lot more time in the Royal Menagerie, after all, and she was known to be favored by him, with various enchantments and potions being supplied to assist her in her 'duties'.

Not that even the hardest workers in the Palace staff could really match the dedication with which she threw herself into her task. She eagerly put her whole body at the disposal of the many lonely animals of the Menagerie, where before she had focused almost entirely on the larger animals, capable of filling her itching, aching pussy. For starters, any animal too lacking in girth to derive any real pleasure from the gaping orifice of her pussy was serviced by her asshole instead - ­ despite the fact that, while she was hardly a virgin there, that particular hole had seen no use since before her encounter with Blake. Considering how widely-stretched her pussy was, only the very largest of the Menagerie's residents were serviced that way - ­ the elephant, both of the rhinoceros, the giraffe, the hippopotamus, the gaur... leaving anything below that threshold to fill and stretch her tender ass, including the water buffalo, the bison and the zebra.

Not that it stopped there. Having watched Anitra's performance with the Sultan from underneath Blake's belly, she soon started practicing peehole penetration herself, albeit on a somewhat more human level. The smallest residents of the Menagerie, such as Capuchin monkeys or the prized Red Panda, were thus given free rein to ram their tiny peckers into her urethra - ­ ultimately enabling her to service every last animal in the expansive Menagerie with at least one of her nether orifices, never mind her overworked mouth. Still, even as she stretched her peehole and ass for the animals' benefit, it could not rival the lengths she put her mouth and tongue to in their service...

For the male animals, she'd always start by 'fluffing' them orally, licking and sucking to get their variously-shaped and variously-sized dicks fully out of their sheaths, fully hardened, and fully lubricated. Then, after they'd had their fun in one of her available holes, a subsequent tongue-cleaning was dished out, complete with ball-polishing. If they remained hard at that point, she'd then usually suck and lick them to another orgasm, swallowing their cum regardless of the taste, texture and amount. Female animals who lacked a mate - ­ a minority, but they were there - ­ mainly received cunnilingus with a side-order of finger-banging... or fisting, for the larger specimens.

On top of that basic service, any display of dominance on the part of her bestial lovers would cause her to indulge in subservient and humiliating displays in a near-instinctive desire to please them -­ never mind that these displays tended to be mostly a matter of her own perceptions. Whether it was a female animal responding to arousal by peeing - -­ a not-uncommon method for getting your hormones into the air and thus displaying your readiness for mating in the natural world - or male animals emptying their bladders after the rough exertion of pounding one of Satya's available holes, it was not uncommon for her to receive a mouthful of urine towards the end of one of her oral treatments. Which she inevitably responded to by gluing her lips to the dick or pussy in question and drinking down the sharp-tasting liquid without wasting a drop, before moving her mouth to the nearby anus and demonstrating her submission to their (mostly imaginary) desires with a deep, sloppy rimjob.

She took no breaks or holidays, pausing her sexual exploits only to sleep and eat (the latter of which often wasn't much, depending on how many voluminous loads of animal cum she had swallowed.) Only the enchanted accessories gifted to her by the Sultan, and a steady stream of specialized potions and salves, prevented her from developing severe chafing in several sensitive spots, and for that matter winding up with a permanent stomach-ache. The only real breaks she took from her days of pleasuring animals was when she was visited by guards or male members of the palace staff who were sufficiently unconcerned by her daily duties (or just sufficiently desperate) to take advantage of the fact that her eagerness to please didn't stop with animals. Indeed, she was just as happy lavishing sexual attention on the menfolk, letting them draw whatever pleasure they could from her loose, overworked asshole and busy tongue. 'Visiting Satya' soon became a nudge-nudge-wink-wink term for being hard-up for female company, especially amongst the palace guards.

All of that, however, was still in the future - ­ for the moment, she was eagerly moaning underneath Blake's massive body, her body trembling from the impact of his mighty thrusts, her eyes locked on the foursome in the silk pavilion... and her mind empty save for a flurry of pleasure and the deep sense of validation it brought with it. And when a surge of thick, hot dragon-cum flooded her ruptured womb, there was no boiling, no pain - ­ just a sensation of hot fullness, and a rhythmic, gooey noise as the sound of Blake's uninterrupted thrusts became more obscene. She barely noticed the climax that rolled through her, driven by the freshly-healed tissue of her pussy - ­ it was, after all, entirely secondary to her purpose. Just the knowledge that she was giving such pleasure to such a great beast was the greatest joy she could imagine.

Meanwhile, Anitra was busy enjoying her third - or possibly fourth, the count was a bit fuzzy - orgasm. The spurs on Rajah's pointy cockhead were scraping all across the insides of her pussy, stirring and stimulating it, even as the Sultan's long, slow thrusts into her urethra made her clit sing with every movement. Indeed, the near-painful intensity of the combined assault was doing a marvelous job of matching the sort of intensity she usually enjoyed from massive pussy-penetrations - ­ the very penetrations that she hadn't had for months, and wouldn't get for many more. Mostly, it was the way the Sultan's thick cock in her peehole narrowed her normally spacious pussy, forcing it into closer contact with the tiger's heavily-textured tool. But regardless of the hows and whys, the fact was that she was enjoying herself immensely, and considering the enthusiastic way she was translating that enjoyment into her oral assault on the First Wife's by-now sopping pussy, the fourth member of the miniature orgy was having an excellent time of it too.

In the throes of ecstasy, however, she became perhaps a bit _too_enthusiastic in her own movements, and as she pulled forwards in the same rhythm as Rajah, his pointy cockhead popped out of her pussy despite the friction added by the spurs. The tiger growled quietly as he felt the coolness of the air around his sensitive tool, and quickly readjusted his hips to thrust forwards and recapture that delightful hot, wet tightness again. But at that point, Anitra was already thrusting her own hips back and down in order to impale herself on the Sultan's cock - ­ which was sliding in and out of her urethra easier than ever, both due to the tight orifice loosening up under the strain, and the added lubrication of the cumload currently sloshing about in her bladder.

The result was predictable - ­ Rajah missed his mark, and instead hit another well-trained, easily-accessible hole a bit higher. Anitra's practiced sphincter put up no resistance at all as the heavily-textured tiger-cock pushed inside - ­ being accustomed to far girthier visitors, as it were. Rajah didn't care - ­ it was warm and reasonably tight, with the coating of pussy-juice he'd carried with him from the previous hole providing decent lubrication, and that was all he really cared about. Anitra, meanwhile, shuddered as the tiny bone-spurs on his cockhead now dug into her sensitive intestines rather than her more well-worn pussy... but with her mind being already flooded with pleasure, her masochistic tendencies were fully engaged, turning the resulting pain into just another flavor of sensual delight.

Certainly, when Rajah reached his climax a few minutes later, she did not at all mind the change of venue. His thick cum was swiftly absorbed, and her heart began to beat faster as The Quickening set in. It lacked the kind of raw power she usually got from magical beings - ­ to say nothing of dragons - ­ but it was still a nice 'high', sharpening the sexual pleasure she was feeling while revitalizing her... and it carried just a bit of the raw, predatory essence of the tiger with it. The First Wife, who had long-since stopped holding Anitra's head in place between her thighs and leaned back to rest her weight on her hands, effectively thrusting her groin into Anitra's mouth, moaned in surprise as the inhumanly-fast DragonRider suddenly shifted her arms - ­ shifting them from being planted beside the Sultan's shoulders, to tightly gripping the First Wife's hips, pulling her forwards while redoubling her oral assault with a new edge of predatory aggression. More moans soon followed, growing rapidly in pitch.

Rajah, being a well-trained and virile creature, obviously didn't stop at one climax. In fact, he'd already deposited his first cumload in Anitra's pussy, before switching holes - ­ she'd simply been too caught up in the more potent stimulation she was receiving from his dick-spurs and the Sultan's ongoing peehole-fuck, to really notice. The fact that her body swiftly expelled the non-draconic cum, effectively turning it into just another layer of lubrication on Rajah's cock, hadn't helped there either. Now that he was in her ass, though, the Quickening made his orgasms hard to miss - ­ even as his increasingly emptied balls spaced them further and further apart.

He came four times, before both his virility and his stamina was spent - ­ and while it hadn't taken him more than five minutes to reach the first, the third and fourth had been a solid twenty minutes apart. All in all, Anitra spent more than three quarters of an hour under the big tiger's muscular, fur-covered body, with her ass being the recipient of his rough loving for most of that time. Anitra, buoyed by three Quickenings (albeit individually weak ones) was still in fine form at the end of it all... but the same could not, perhaps, be said for the rest of the party - ­ starting with Rajah's tired snort as he rested heavily on top of this seemingly insatiable female.

The Sultan, stuck underneath her, was groaning in something approaching pain. His balls had been milked dry, with their contents now filling Anitra's bladder to the point where the resulting fluid pressure added additional sensation to the experience as it squeezed down on his cockhead. And yet, she was still riding him, her urethra squeezing his cock so tight that it basically couldn't go soft. His First Wife, meanwhile, was shaking from the stress of maintaining her awkward position - her legs, in particular, would have long-since collapsed underneath her if Anitra's inhumanly-strong hands hadn't been holding her hips so unshakably in place. Hoarse sighs escaped her lips as Anitra's tongue continued to lavish attention on her over-sensitized genitals.

And through all that, Blake - ­ who was used to keeping pace with a Quickening-empowered Anitra - ­ had continued pounding Satya's snug pussy. The girl's ass was still high in the air, but held there more by his thick shaft than her shaking legs, and the fierce fucking had actually pushed her several yards across the grass, leaving green stains on her tits and face. She was quietly drooling into this soft, green cushion now, her eyes open but staring emptily to the side, her mind lost in the overwhelming pleasure and pain. That sensation - ­ of her body and mind alike being pushed to the breaking-point by a single, almighty fucking - ­ was one she'd be forever trying to recapture in her future career, but never quite attaining.

But in the end, as Rajah tiredly backed up - ­ his spur-covered cockhead tugging at Anitra's sphincter on the way out - ­ the (metaphorical) spell of the orgy was broken. As the weight disappeared from her back, Anitra pushed herself up with a sigh, relinquishing her grip on the First Wife's hips. The woman staggered half a step back, then collapsed on the throw-pillows with a fatigued groan, legs splayed wide to let the cool air caress her puffy, red pussy-lips. Then, finally, with her hands on the Sultan's broad chest for stability, Anitra pulled her feet back under her and began to lift her hips - with both her and the Sultan wincing slightly as his broad cockhead was pulled from the embrace of her cum-filled bladder and out into the tight, narrow corridor of her urethra.

When at last he slipped free of her peehole's tight embrace, his cock began to shrink and soften almost immediately - ­ while Anitra struggled to squeeze the tiny orifice back together again before the multiple cumloads he'd deposited in her bladder could escape and utterly cover his groin. She managed to still the flow, though not completely - ­ small globs of the white slime were regularly dripping out and running down to stain her still-wet labia. The Sultan, looking somewhat frazzled, pushed himself up on his elbows and looked around as Anitra stepped off of his body, his eyes at once tired and elated. Clearly, it wasn't often that he got to have new sexual experiences, however tiring.

Blake, seeing the foursome slide apart, snorted and halted his own thrusting. His cock was still hard, even though he'd just shot his third load, but the ride had started to get a bit too... slimy for his liking, anyway. Satya's body had no room for his cum, after all - ­ his cock, by itself, took up every cubic inch of space within her. So every load he'd pumped into her had simply been forced out around the edges by his continuous thrusts, creating a slick layer between her widely-stretched pussy-walls and his cock - ­ even as most of it simply leaked out and pooled between her legs. However, as soon as he took a step back, pulling his thick tool from her pussy with a slobbery sound, the near-catatonic girl sprang into action - pushing herself up from the drool-stained grass and spinning around on her hands and knees, eagerly throwing herself forwards to begin licking the cum-layer off of Blake's cock even as her freshly-vacated orifice gaped broadly between her legs.

The First Wife, starting to recover, pushed herself upright on the pillows and glanced over at Anitra, who grinned back at her. "Well, I'll admit that was an... experience." She commented dryly. "Especially a little while in when your tongue suddenly became more... raspy. Felt just like when Rajah goes down on me, only with a lot more skill behind it. Guess that's the famous power of The Quickening in action!" Anitra blinked a couple of times at this, then experimentally stuck her tongue out and ran a finger over it. Rough, alright - ­ just like a tiger's, designed to lick the meat right off the bones of his victims. She hadn't realized she'd gotten_that_ in the package, or she would've eased up on the tongue-work some... but fortunately, the First Wife didn't seem to mind, on account of apparently being used to it.

The beautiful, tanned woman - ­ so much older than she looked - ­ then let her gaze fall on where Blake was now leaning back on his hind legs, giving Satya space to properly clean his cock, and then let her eyes pan over to Rajah, who had gone back to sniffing at the snack-trays. "You know, taking him up the ass wasn't part of the deal..." she then said, with mock seriousness. "He'll be all messy, now. You really should follow her example and clean up after yourself." Lifting an eyebrow, Anitra glanced over her shoulder to eye the limp ­ but still unsheathed ­ tiger-dick dangling under Rajah's stomach. Sure enough, the spur-covered head had swept a fair amount of mostly-white gunk with it on the way out...

Putting a hand on her abdomen, she felt her cum-filled bladder pulse - it was still making its way out, albeit slowly, despite her best efforts. Then she eyed the First Wife again. "Well, I suppose I could clean him up... if you don't mind cleaning up after your husband, yourself. Sound fair?" Her eyebrows shot up in reply, then creased. "Well..." she said, her eyes focusing on Anitra's increasingly gooey cunny, and the steady flow of cum gurgling out above it. "I suppose it'd be something new to try..." Then, biting her lower lip, she nodded. The Sultan - ­ having swiftly recovered from his earlier ordeal - ­ looked from woman to woman once or twice, then grinned and quickly pulled himself out from between them so as to take up a better observer's position at the back of the pavilion. The First Wife looked after him with a curved eyebrow, then sighed and shook her head at his boyish grin before pulling herself to her feet and walking (somewhat shakily) over to where Anitra was positioning herself to reach under Rajah's belly.

With her legs widely spread, she was lying back over a couple of pillows, holding her torso a bit up from them by wrapping an arm around the tiger's broad back - ­ pulling her head up close to his dangling cock. It smelled predictably rank - ­ the thick layer of goo that his spurs had swept along as he pulled it out was mostly cum, but there was, of course, also a fair bit of her own ass-slime, and even a few traces of red. Apparently, the spurs had managed to tear some tiny rends in her intestines here and there, though considering how LITTLE of the red was in appearance, those minor cuts clearly hadn't lasted very long before her Quickening-enhanced healing-factor closed them up.

Either way, she'd spent too much time walking the ass-to-mouth route by now to be overly bothered by it, and she didn't hesitate to lift her head the last bit, closing her lips around his shaft as she took the gunky cockhead into her mouth. He growled appreciatively above her as her tongue began to caress the spurs that had so effectively stimulated her earlier - ­ heck, her pussy was still tingling a bit - ­ cleaning off the accumulated cum... and other stuff. At the same time, she could look past the dangling shaft to see the First Wife crawl in between her legs, sampling her own cum-stained pussy with a few quick licks before covering her peehole with a luscious pair of moist lips.

Anitra shuddered in pleasure as she felt the cum being sucked right out of her bladder, and slurped down by a hungry mouth. She was rapidly getting to enjoy that sensation greatly - ­ though, it helped somewhat that the process had so far been performed on her by the former High Priestess of Lolth/Empress of the Drow People, and the millennia-old Queen-in-all-but-name of a secretive, magical city. Somehow, that seemed to add a... certain bit of spice to the proceedings. Of course, this particular 'Queen' seemed to be a lot more experienced than Direza had been when she first met her - ­ having undoubtedly explored numerous sexual kinks in search of variety throughout her long, long life. Which might explain why she didn't seem to mind the sharp 'flavoring' her husband's cum had picked up in Anitra's bladder...

By the time the First Wife had finished slurping up the somewhat yellow-tinged bladderful of cum, Rajah's feline cock had also been thoroughly cleaned, and now gleamed with spit. The tiger had seemed appreciative enough of Anitra's efforts, his cock occasionally jumping in response to her oral treatment, but he clearly wasn't about to get it up for another round today. He also, apparently, did not mind the current roughness of her tongue - ­ perhaps he'd gotten head from some pretty tigress before? It made for an amusing - ­ if improbable - ­ mental image, at least.

Once Anitra and the First Wife had thus finished up, Blake glanced down at his own groin where Satya continued to lavish oral attention on his still-hard erection - ­ this being the main reason it hadn't started to deflate yet - ­ and cleared his throat. "I do believe it's thoroughly clean now, little one. So perhaps you would like to tell your story now, hmm?" She looked up at him, at first uncomprehendingly, her eyes foggy - ­ then blinked a few times and winced, stepping back from his cock, seemingly reluctant to relinquish her hold on it. "Oh... yes... of course, Lord Blake." Her voice was a bit hoarse from all the groaning and moaning she'd been doing, but it still made both Anitra and the royal couple perk up their ears. The Sultan and his wife might have been more _idly_curious than Anitra and Blake, but they were clearly still interested in what she had to say...

Still buck-naked, her inner thighs caked with cum, Satya kneeled in the soft grass before Blake, her eyes still somewhat unfocused. "I was born in the land of Ganarãjya - ­ a place of hot jungles and great wealth. The people there worship Sargonnas, the Bull-Headed, and hold the cattle who carry his image to be holy. I... spent some time in the Temple of Sargonnas when I was young. Another belief is the importance of past lives, for Sargonnas is a god of vengeance and justice - ­ and has a long memory. Those who find themselves pursued by ill luck or otherwise appear to carry divine disfavor without apparent reason come to the priests, who help them look into their past lives and see if there is a debt from thence they have not repaid. An insult that was not answered, vengeance never carried out."

Blake nodded patiently, hoping that there was more to the story. Holy magic had no more luck penetrating the scales of a Black Dragon than any other kind, after all. As Satya continued, however, his eyebrows rose in interest. "However, Sargonnas is connected to fire and wrath, to heat and wild forces. He does not have dominion over past lives, and thus, nor can he grant his priests the ability to reach into them. They found another way - ­ a secret mixture of herbs, burned at the altar. Those who breathe in the smoke that rises from it are transposed into their past lives, and usually find the answer they seek there." Anitra, who had risen from the pillows of the pavilion and was now pulling her bright-red dragonscale panties on as she half-walked, half-jumped towards Blake while listening to the story, grinned eagerly.

"Well, there's our answer!" she declared, and Blake nodded. "We go to Ganarãjya, and convince the priests at that temple to brew up a hefty bundle of that herb-mix. It should at least have a _chance_of working." Pausing on the grass, she swiveled and bowed towards the pavilion. "Well, it's been grand, you two. I shall remember your hospitality!" The Sultan moped as he pulled himself upright on his pillows, closing his pants (which had been hanging open so far.) "Are you sure I can't convince you to stay a bit longer? For dinner, perhaps? Or even overnight?" Anitra, though, just shrugged it off with a grin. "Sorry, oh husband my husband, but I've got what I need to continue my quest now... you know how it is with us adventuring-types. But I'll be sure to come back and visit some other time - ­ and maybe introduce you to a couple of friends of mine while I'm at it."

The flame of curiosity burned brightly in the Sultan's eyes at that, but with a shrug and a laugh, he waved her off. "Very well, then. Onwards on your grand quest, and the best of fortune to you!" The First Wife also smiled and waved as Anitra climbed up on Blake's back, grabbing the saddle firmly. Meanwhile, Satya continued to kneel on the ground, looking up at Blake with an expression reminiscent of a lost child. She wasn't sure what was up with that girl's apparent obsession with him - ­ it clearly went a lot farther than just forgiveness for the pain he'd caused her. But hopefully, now that she'd been healed, she'd be able to figure things out on her own.

With an agile jump, Blake went over the silken pavilion, and grabbed on to the tall marble wall behind it. For a moment, he perched there, hanging from the wall - ­ then his powerful hind legs propelled him backwards, even as he twisted in the air and spread his wings, barely clearing the palace roof. Then, wingbeat by wingbeat, he clawed his way up into the sky, until he once again could soar on the powerful thermals rising from the sapphire-blue lakes beyond the city. The desert air was still, and while his wings remained unmoving, they were able to talk without resorting to telepathy.

"So you're thinking of bringing Direza and Melora next time we visit them?" he asked, curiously, as he looked back along his long, serpentine neck to where Anitra was seated. She shrugged, flashing him a half-smile. "Maybe. I'm sure he'd love 'em. He's clearly a big fan of unusual creatures..." Blake snorted at this, looking forwards again as he flew slowly towards the invisible barrier that separated Mirage City from the outside world. "I noticed. Honestly, I'm not sure why we didn't bring them this time around - ­ it was hardly a dangerous expedition."

This made Anitra grimace, and she grappled for the right words to describe her reasons for leaving the two behind at the Dragon Utopia. "Well... I knew the Sultan would love 'em. Maybe a bit too much. He's friendly enough, but he's got a kinky streak a mile wide - ­ I should know. If we'd turned up with those two in tow, and he'd turned out to actually possess the information we were looking for, he would've almost certainly 'requested' some kind of services from them in return. And while I'm sure they'd both do whatever he wanted them to for our sakes, I... didn't want to put them in that situation."

Blake seemed to chew on that one for a minute, then shrugged, the rippling of his shoulders traveling down his broad wings. "I'm still not sure I get it. You didn't seem to mind me handing out sexual favors in return for that information." Anitra shook her head, once again finding herself somewhat challenged by the need to explain the human perspective to her huge, decidedly-inhuman lover. "Well, sure - ­ but you chose to do that. You could've said no, and if you didn't actually kinda' want to fuck that girl, you WOULD have said no. On the other hand, if we'd told Direza or Melora to do something like that... they would've done it regardless of how they felt about it."

Another rippling shrug. "Of course. They're very obedient. Considering the way you enjoy tormenting Direza, I thought that was part of the appeal for you too." With a sigh, Anitra gave up on the complicated, moral-ethical explanation, and settled for something more straightforwards. "Right, right... but this way, if we need another favor from the Sultan, we can bring them then. No point pulling a card out of your sleeve if you don't have to, no?" This, at last, made Blake nod thoughtfully. "Ah yes, you've got a point there. Well, it's not like I mind traveling alone with you, anyway. Having three people on my back rather limits my aerobatic abilities, you know!"

With that, he tucked in his wings and began to dive, picking up speed until the wind whistled deafeningly in her ears, and only then flattened out his trajectory as they sped towards the Dragon Utopia.That may not necessarily be a bad thing! Anitra exclaimed telepathically as she clung to the saddle. Actually, if they've done well at the... 'homework' we left them with this time, I'm thinking we could bring them on the next trip. Ganarãjya sounds like it'll be more of an exercise in diplomacy than bloodshed, so if anything, bringing a couple of servants should help convince people that we're _ important _. A telepathic grin - ­ faintly menacing - ­ was the first reply, followed by something far more frightening. Oh, well, if you say so, Anitra... guess I'll just have to get in all my aerobatics-practice on the way home, then!

She shrieked in mixed fear and elation as Blake began to flap his wings powerfully, suddenly rising almost vertically into the sky before halting his wingbeat and keeping them unfolded in a slow backwards somersault leading into a steep dive. There was nothing out here in the desert for him to hit (other than the ground, of course), so the odds of anything going wrong was remote. Still, she found herself instantly glad that she hadn't taken the Sultan up on the offer to stay for dinner. I'll get you for this when we're back on the ground! she declared, getting no telepathic reply... but she could swear there was a faint laughter being carried to her ears by the rushing wind.

THE END

Another tale is already in the works - get hyped for Chapter 3 of the DragonRider Legends: Jungle Heat!