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Bzzzzz.

Sroth moaned with lust at the pleasant sensation of the vibrating cockring, its movements resonating through the plastic sheath that trapped his hard cock and transmitting the stimulation all up and down its length. Moaning again, he thrust forward eagerly, shivering a little with arousal and clenching his claws in their mitts at the feeling. Oh, it felt good... He continued to hump at the air for a little while, but whined unhappily when it did nothing to increase the stimulation; the vibrations were constant, unchanging no matter how hard he rocked his hips back and forth and no matter how much his body insisted it should work, certain from the pressure of the sheath and cockring wrapped tight around his penis that he must be penetrating a dragoness, and if he'd just thrust then it would feel even better... His mind conjured the image of himself mounting Saya, and he moaned in a mixture of lust and worry as his imagined form was bound just as he was now--except for the sheath that denied him pleasure. Though he didn't think he'd mind if she saw him helpless like that, if he got a chance to mount her and was actually able to feel it...

But his lust grew less and less satisfied with the sensations as the moments passed, demanding more and more strongly that he thrust harder, give himself some stronger stimulation in order to feel even more pleasure, and to climax... He moaned again, then tried to raise his bound forepaws to touch himself, but the anchors binding them to the floor of the van kept his belly firmly out of reach, and with the spreader bar between his hind paws also tied down he couldn't move his hindquarters enough to be able to get those mitts on his paws against the sheath no matter how hard he tried. His tail was also bound out of reach, leaving only his head, and he curled his neck around to nuzzle at the clear plastic sheath. But he couldn't press very hard against himself just by nuzzling, and the bridle strapped around his snout wouldn't let him open his mouth to get his jaws around the sheath--not that it would have worked anyway. The plastic was too firm, and no matter how hard he rubbed his cheeks against the sheath and thrust at his own head he couldn't feel any more sensation through it.

He whined longingly and struggled again to raise his paws even though he knew it was no use; he'd lost count of how many times he'd tried over the course of this horrible 'game' to touch himself, and no matter how hard he'd tried, no matter how much freedom he'd had, not once had he been able to feel anything against his cock--just the constant tightness of the sheath and cockring that trapped him and kept him hard, and now the vibrations that wouldn't go away and only made him want to touch himself more. All he could do was stare at his arousal through the sheath, right there hanging from his belly but impossible to touch, and continue to thrust towards his snout as he waited for the van to stop. Maybe the vibrator would turn off while he performed his remaining tasks, maybe it would be turned higher, maybe there was only one task left--he was already quite securely bound, after all--and then he wouldn't have to suffer this torment any longer... The thought of the orgasm that was his promised reward for winning the game made him shudder with need, thrashing in another useless attempt to free himself as he waited for the van to stop.

Fortunately the ride wasn't a long one, though his lust and the light stimulation that fed it made it impossible for him to concentrate enough to keep track of how much time had passed. Oh ancients--how long had he been bound like this now? It felt like it had been a day since he'd woken up in that clearing and discovering he'd been abducted, tied up, and had that sheath and cockring on him... Had it been morning when he'd woken up? What time was it now? Did it even matter, if the knowledge wouldn't tell him how much longer he'd be trapped, stimulated and unable to orgasm?

The doors behind him opened, and the anchors released his paws. "Climb out," said his captor through the earpiece, "and I will explain your fifth task."

Now that his paws were free Sroth couldn't help but roll onto his side and press his forepaws against his belly, getting the sheath between the two closely bound mitts, squeezing hard and thrusting powerfully into them. He strained for a few moments to feel the higher pleasure his body craved, but howled softly past the bit in his mouth in frustration when he couldn't feel anything but those unchanging vibrations. None of the squeezing, none of the rubbing, just the constant tingling as the vibrator continued to buzz... He pressed his paws still harder against himself, moaning as he watched the mitts deform slightly, felt something against his paws, but none of it made it through the sheath to his cock. No, he needed it so badly...

"Am I going to have to give you a shock collar," the voice said, "or will you obey my orders? Get out of the van."

He whimpered, but managed to stop humping his paws and after some struggling got his four paws back under him, standing shakily as he twitched and jerked, fighting to control himself. This was going to drive him insane if it went on for too long... He shuffled slowly to the bumper of the van, as he had before, then again took that awkward hop outwards to get his hindquarters clear of the bumper, but this time his arousal flared again right when his paws were about to leave the ground and he humped forward at the same moment his paws pushed him back. He flailed in the air for a moment, then one hind paws came down on the bumper, the other found only air, and unable to recover his balance with the spreader bar holding his hind paws apart he tumbled out of the van.

Crying out, he landed heavily on his back in the grass of the clearing, all but his head out of the van. He paused a moment to recover his breath and make sure he was all right, but nothing seemed to be hurting, so he groaned, rolled over--with effort, as the spreader bar made that more difficult as well--then got back to his feet. After a moment he heard his captor chuckling and felt his face flush, turning his head to scan the clearing. How was his captor watching him, to be able to see him so clearly at all times? Was there a camera in the van, or on him, or many of them scattered throughout the parks he was performing these tasks in, or was he actually the driver and was very good at following him without being noticed, or...

"You've been taken to another park in order to attempt your next task. See that red line in the middle of the clearing?"

Sroth waddled slowly over to the center of the clearing, slowed by the spreader bar as well as the short chain linking his forepaws, and lowered his head to examine the line for a moment, then looked left and right: it extended all the way across the clearing in both directions and continued on into the trees, curving slightly back towards him.

"The line forms a circle through a section of the park, which contains two intersecting paths. Somewhere within this circle lies a large strip of black cloth, identical to the cloth on that table to your left, and your task is to find it and bring it back here--the piece of cloth is your next piece of gear: a blindfold. And before you try it, no: picking up the cloth on the table does not count."

He hobbled to the table and looked closely at the large piece of cloth... Then he shivered and moaned with arousal as his lust returned to the front of his mind and had to struggle again to keep from thrusting--and from ignoring all else in his need.

"This task has no time limit. However, this circle is not empty of other people, and there is nothing in place to stop them from finding the blindfold and taking it themselves, even if they don't know what it is; if someone else finds the blindfold before you do and carries it outside of the circle, then you will fail the task. Of course nobody else is actively looking for it, but if it was left out in the open, say, on one of the paths, then someone might feel compelled to take it..."

He whined softly at the thought of failure--though he was already suffering constant vibrations, so would failure just make them stronger, but still not enough to get him to climax, and mean more time bound like this? He shuddered at the thought; it was bad enough as it was. But thinking about his arousal only reminded him of how much his body was still insisting that he thrust, and he couldn't help but begin to rock his hips again, lowering his head and closing his eyes as he imagined himself mounting a dragoness, thrusting his hard cock into her and slamming his belly against her over and over again... Shivering all over, he collapsed and began to hump the ground, moaning as he felt his belly rubbing against the grass but felt nothing where he wanted to, which only made him hump harder as he tried to do something he could actually feel through the sheath, anything to increase the stimulation as his body demanded. He was dimly aware of his captor speaking, but was too consumed by his lust to listen and continued to thrust as hard and as fast as he could, but it was no use...

"Stop! Stop that and listen to me, you stupid creature!"

Sroth growled at the insult, and while he managed to slow himself down he couldn't stop entirely, still desperate for the stimulation his body wanted so much more of.

"I will never understand why your kind thinks you deserve to be treated as our equals," the voice said, emotion audible for the first time: irritation. "How can you possibly be on the level of humans when you all behave this way? It is so easy to control a dragon by exploiting its carnal instincts and desires, and such behavior makes you much more similar to other animals than to humans..."

He snarled, stopped thrusting and stood. He'd show this human, he'd show that he could control his desire and that dragons were humans' equals, by completing all the tasks and-- and... Moaning softly, he sagged, head drooping, as quickly as he'd stood. Completing all the tasks would prove nothing, not when he'd only agreed to play when given the promise that he'd be allowed to orgasm if he "won." That was manipulation of his lust in its simplest form... The only way to prove to his captor that he was above such carnal desires would be to refuse to play and then somehow resist the torture of being stimulated powerfully, relentlessly, by the vibrator and denied orgasm, without begging for mercy or thrusting or losing control of himself--and he already knew that was impossible.

His captor was right.

"Which is of course why it shouldn't be illegal for people to keep dragons as pets or slaves, but at least the government hasn't been able to stop the black market yet. Anyway, are you listening closely enough for me to finish describing the task yet?"

Sroth whined softly and bobbed his head, hips jerking again as his lust continued to eat away at his mind.

"You'd better be. Some additional rules: you may not leave the designated area, you may not try to get anyone to help you find the blindfold, you may not attack anyone for any reason--even if they have the blindfold. ...though I suppose if you see someone with the blindfold then you are allowed to try to communicate with them to get them to hand it over. Finally, you can only complete the task by bringing back the cloth I've described; you'll know it when you see it. Do you understand your task?"

He bobbed his head again, looking at the ground. Every time he obeyed he was only proving his captor right about his kind yet again...

"Good dragon. The blindfold has been placed; you may begin."

Groaning, he raised his head and swung it around, looking for a path that would lead out of the clearing, but when he didn't see one he decided to follow the boundary line until it led him to one of the paths. Pausing to sniff the cloth that was apparently identical to the blindfold he was looking for, he internalized the scent as best he could, then began to follow along the line as quickly as he could. He tried to hop along as he had when hurrying down the trail during the previous task, but he had to weave through the trees without a cleared trail to follow and his restraints made it hard for him to change direction, so he could only hop once at a time, change direction, then leap forward again, moving more slowly and probably looking even sillier this way--but at least it was faster than walking.

He tried to think as he tracked along the inner edge of the boundary: where was the blindfold most likely to be? The intersection, he thought instantly; that was where the most people would be able to see him, which meant it would be the most humiliating for him to have to go there and be seen by so many people--and if there was one thing his captor loved to do, it was humiliate him. But if the cloth was in the intersection then it was also likely to be seen by a lot of people, and the more people saw it, the more likely it was to be picked up and taken by somebody. And if someone took it... He shivered again at the thought of failure, stumbling and just managing not to fall over. He had to get to the intersection as quickly as he could.

But he was distracted by something else: was the human really right about dragons, that they were little better than animals? What little of his pride was left roared no, but that he'd been brought so low by his captor's torture was evidence to the contrary. The human had to be right... Dragons could be controlled through lust, hunger, fear-- But wasn't the same true of humans? he realized. Humans had surely tied each other up sexually long before any of them had started doing it to dragons, and a human's will was nowhere near as strong as a dragon's... So there was no way they couldn't be influenced in the same manner! All he had to do was look at the news, he thought, to see stories of what humans would do to each other purely out of fear of another human, or for food, or...

His captor was wrong after all, he thought, purring a little to himself, and after a moment he was able to raise his head again. Now he could focus his attention on the task, now that he knew his actions didn't prove the human right... If only he could tell his captor what he thought.

After a minute or so of hopping along he smelled human and dragon, then saw a break in the trees ahead, and a moment after that began to hear footsteps and voices. One of the paths! He emerged from the trees without hesitation--just being seen wasn't nearly as bad as being seen sucking himself, as he had in the previous task--to find there were only a few people on the path, just a dragoness and six humans. The dragoness took one look at him, growled, then spread her wings and flew away--though he thought he caught a whiff of female arousal as she flew off, making him shudder and thrust at the emptiness beneath his belly a few times, groaning at the sensations of the vibrator, before he managed to control himself again. The humans gaped at him for a few moments, then scattered in both directions, a couple of them shouting angrily back at him as they went.

"That's disgusting! We shouldn't have to see that here!"

"Go back to your cave and hump something there where we don't have to watch you do it, you beast!"

He ignored them, though his face heated up a little in a mixture of anger and embarrassment. To his right there was the boundary, and following the path to his left would lead him to the center of the circle--he could even see the intersection from here, just a hundred yards or so ahead. He set out immediately towards it, scanning both sides of the path for the blindfold and sniffing the air, trying to catch wind of the scent he'd memorized back in the clearing--but who could tell how many other pieces of cloth would smell just like that one... It was a good sign, at least, that he hadn't smelled anything similar yet.

A few more people and another dragon passed him as he approached the intersection; it seemed these paths weren't nearly as busy as the previous ones he'd been forced to walk on. But none of them confronted him and he was able to shut out their exclamations, and he saw no sign of the blindfold as he arrived at the intersection. It wasn't anything special, just an open, slightly wider paved space, and though there were some humans and dragons gathered there they hurried to leave once he'd stopped there--though he noticed, oddly, that there weren't any children, and he thought humans liked to take their young to parks to play outside... And in fact, he hadn't seen a single child yet. He was certainly glad of the fact, so he didn't have any angry parents confronting him, but it was still strange...

Sroth growled to himself and looked around the rapidly clearing intersection, but there was no sign of black cloth, though it would stand out pretty well against the lighter gray of the asphalt. He shuffled to the center of the open space and looked around, then checked behind a bench, a trash can--ugh, it smelled rancid--the other two benches at the edge of the intersection, but it wasn't there. It had to be here, surely his captor would put it somewhere where he'd have to show himself in front of a lot of passersby... Maybe right off the edge of the woods? He hopped over to the base of the trees in one corner, saw nothing, then walked a square around the intersection, peering into the woods and behind the nearest trees as he went, but saw nothing. Where was it?

Another wave of arousal hit him and it was all he could do not to collapse on the spot, the urge was so great. He still couldn't keep himself from humping at air for nearly a full minute, but at least he managed not to thrust at the ground or take his paws or snout to himself... He fought for a little while with his lust, and once he'd regained control of himself he returned to the middle of the paths. It had to be here! Where had it been hidden--or had it been moved? He hadn't looked too closely at the bystanders, and one of them could have easily taken it... Or it was hidden too well for them to find, but did that mean he wouldn't be able to find it either? He scanned the intersection again-- No. He couldn't have.

His eyes focused on the trash can.

It only made sense, he realized after a moment, and walked over to the bin. The smells would hide the scent of the cloth from him, and to let people see him rooting through trash, especially bound as he was, would be incredibly humiliating... The trash can was inside a concrete cylinder and had a plastic top; he'd have to take off the top and pull out the bag--somehow--if he wanted to look through its contents. But surely it was in there! Growling to himself, he reared back on his hind legs and put his forepaws on the edge of the concrete, then thrust his paws under the lid and threw them upwards, tossing the lid off, but he lost his balance in the motion and his forepaws slid off the far side of the cylinder. He fell back onto all fours straddling the trash can and it was all he could do not to hump it, the top of the concrete pressing against the scales of his belly and almost making it feel like there was a dragoness beneath him. Shivering as the vibrations also encouraged him to let his imagination take over, he hurried to rear up and waddle backwards before he could give in to the temptation to grind himself against the trash can.

Now the top of the bin was off... but how to lift the bag out? There was no way he was going to stick his snout inside to root through its contents, so he had to find a way to get the bag out and dump out everything that was inside. He looked inside first, but if the cloth he was looking for was inside, it wasn't on top--that made sense, to make sure he'd have to really dig through it to find the blindfold... If he wasn't tied up then he could have just used his claws to grab the bag, but the mitts wrapped around his fore and hind paws took that option away. He couldn't use his teeth either, because of the bridle, but they were probably too sharp anyway. The concrete might have eventually crumbled if he'd been free to kick it, but that wasn't a possibility with the short chain and spreader bar restricting his movement so much. Maybe his wing-claw?

Not being able to unfold his wings made it harder, but eventually he managed to contort his body enough to jab the claw at the foremost joint of his wing into the edge of the garbage bag. Once it was securely in there he stood up straight again--it worked, the bag rose with him!--then reared back enough to raise the bag out and shook it off his wing onto the ground. Growling a little to himself at his success, he squeezed the bottom of the bag between his forepaws, upturned it and dumped its contents out onto the ground, shaking it to make sure everything came out and checking the inside of the blue plastic bag to be sure, then looked over what he'd found.

There were a couple newspapers, some empty bottles, a few bags that held mostly-empty food containers, three apple cores... He moaned and moved the newspaper aside with his nose, but beneath it was just another open, empty container. The blindfold wasn't there! How could it not be there?

"Ew, gross!"

"What the hell's going on here?"

Sroth raised his head to see four humans staring at him, and his face flushed yet again with shame as he saw their disgusted expressions. They stared at each other for a few long moments, then one of them said, "let's get out of here," and the four of them left as quickly as they'd appeared.

He went back to the trash immediately. No, it had to be here, he'd dumped it out and everything... Whining unhappily, he carefully separated and examined every piece of trash that could have hidden the cloth beneath or inside it, but it wasn't there. So had it been taken? Had someone seen it lying around somewhere and taken it before he'd managed to get to the intersection? His captor hadn't said he'd let him know if the blindfold was taken, or even if it was taken outside of the boundary... For all he knew he could already have failed, and be searching fruitlessly for something that was impossible for him to find.

The thought of suffering the vibrator for so long--how long had the voice said? A week or two?--only made the light stimulation he felt seem stronger, and again his lust demanded that he thrust against something. This time his worry of having failed distracted him too much for him to resist the urge and he pressed his belly against the ground, humping the pavement as his arousal consumed him and striving to grind hard enough this time to actually feel it... But even the pavement wasn't strong enough: no matter how hard he tried he couldn't feel anything more than the vibrations that had tormented him since the end of the fourth task, and he moaned in denial as he was unable to control himself. No... He couldn't be trapped like this for that long, it was too horrible...

He had to keep looking! If there was any chance the blindfold was still there, he had to look for it, no matter how long it took! If he found it he'd be able to move on, he wouldn't be trapped here, he'd be a step closer to that reward... He shuddered as he thought of the ecstasy of orgasm, but managed to stop thrusting and stand again after a moment. He still had the other three paths to search, where it would be out in the open and force him to be where people could see him to search, and to find it... And if it was on a path then he had to look before someone else could take it!

Growling to himself, he turned towards the second path and hopped down one side of it, watching the ground both on the edge of the path and in the first few feet of the woods beyond that. Hopefully it wasn't hidden behind a tree right off the edge of the path, or it could take hours to find... He tried to smell the cloth, but the scent was there then the other smells around it were too strong; he couldn't pick out what he was looking for. A few bystanders gaped or shouted at him as he passed, but he ignored them, focused entirely on finding the blindfold. There was no sign of it, though, and once he got to the red line that ran across the path he started back towards the intersection, examining the other side this time.

He arrived back at the intersection without seeing it, so he went down the third path, again unable to find the piece of gear he sought. Please let it be on a path, he thought as he waddled back along the other side of the third path, moving more slowly and looking behind a few trees closest to the edge of the path. Searching the woods for it could take hours, hours of torture with the vibrator teasing him, and he didn't think he'd be able to last that long... Moaning, he hopped down the fourth pathway, searching frantically for the blindfold, but yet again there was no sign of the black cloth. Whimpering quietly, he reached the boundary and turned back to look at the other side of the path, wishing his captor would just say if it had been taken away, give him a hint, encourage him, something, but the human remained silent. He began to hobble slowly back to the intersection, too worn down to keep hopping, and looked dully into the woods as he went, but he couldn't see or smell anything like the cloth he searched for, and the determination that had flared so strongly just a few minutes ago was already being washed away by his hopelessness and lust...

His whimpering grew louder as he approached the intersection for the fourth time, and when he reached it again without seeing the blindfold he couldn't keep himself from beginning to cry. It wasn't there! The woods would take hours to search, and the vibrator was still buzzing away on the base of his shaft, making him rock his hips forward every few seconds even though he was able to keep from breaking down entirely and just start humping the ground again... but it wouldn't be much longer until he lost control entirely, if he didn't find the blindfold soon. Why, why did this have to happen, why couldn't he just go home... Sroth sobbed and started back up the first path, head low and tears dripping down his snout. Why did his captor have to be so cruel to him, put him in such an awful position, trap him so securely and force him to humiliate himself like this? A couple humans saw him, shouted, and turned away, but he didn't care anymore, just kept waddling along, wet eyes focused on the ground in front of him as he found a small trail and followed it into the woods.

He searched along that trail for a little while, but finally the combination of despair and arousal was just too much for him to take any longer and he collapsed, the relentless stimulation driving his lust out of control as he thrust into the ground out of instinct, his body insisting that the pressure and light sensation on his cock meant he had mounted a dragoness and his mind far too clouded to get himself to stop. So he sobbed and continued to hump the dirt beneath his belly, moaning and shuddering as his belly-scales felt the dirt so well but his shaft felt nothing, just as it always had, just as it would for at least another week until his captor finally let him go... He craned his head back and howled his misery as loudly as he could, shivering and crying harder as the bridle-muffled call went without answer. Letting his head fall, he just laid there, motionless on the ground except for the rocking of his hips as he stared blankly into space, losing himself to his body's unfulfilled desires and unable to summon the will to keep searching. It was hopeless, he was trapped, he'd failed, only his captor's mercy--if he even had any--would ever see him freed...

After a few minutes motion caught his eye, and he blinked a few times to bring his vision back into focus in time to see a squirrel dart across the trail not far ahead of him. He moaned sadly as he watched it move, happy and free while he lay bound and helpless so close by... Grinding harder against the ground, he whined in need--but the squirrel noticed him at the sound, paused, then turned and ran a little farther down the path before darting up a tree and disappearing on its far side. Sroth looked at the tree glumly, eyes scanning its boughs for the little creature, but it wasn't there, when it would be so easily visible if it would just come out onto that low branch that extended directly over the path, the one with a strip of dark cloth hanging from it-- He froze.

The blindfold!

He sprang to his feet in an instant and tried to run over to the tree, forgetting his restraints in his excitement, tripping on the chain that held his forepaws together and falling hard onto his chest. But he got right back up and hurried more carefully over to stand beneath it, raising his head to sniff the black cloth as if it might disappear if he looked away for even a moment. But it was there, it was solid, it was what he was looking for, and he just had to carry it back to the clearing to complete the task! Again the mitts that sealed away his claws stymied him for a moment, as he wasn't sure just how to carry the blindfold, but he managed to part his lips enough to pull it off the tree, then draped the cloth across his snout and began to hop away down the trail. It was leading him in about the right direction, he thought, so he could just turn towards the clearing once he reached the boundary line...

He didn't have to leave the trail at all, as it happened; he rounded a bend in the trail to find himself facing the front of the van that carried him from task to task. So he hobbled around one side of the vehicle and into the clearing, and nearly purred with happiness as his captor said, "congratulations! You have completed your fifth task."

Sroth shook the cloth off of his snout, shivering and rocking his hips back and forth as the release of worry about the task allowed his mind to focus more of its attention on his arousal and the stimulation that fed it. Please let me be close to the end, he thought, whining plaintively and thrusting still harder. I need to orgasm...

"Now if you'll close your eyes and hold your head still, the driver will come put that blindfold on for you. I don't want to see your eyes open back up for a moment, or you'll be punished for it..."

He whined again and squeezed his eyes tightly shut. Maybe if he was on his best behavior he would be allowed to climax sooner...

After a moment he heard footsteps coming up from behind him, and it took all the will he could summon to keep from opening his eyes out of curiosity. He settled for focusing still harder on the vibrations, thrusting even harder at nothing as his body demanded he find a dragoness to mount, and he felt human hands on his face, then cloth, and finally he felt something wrapped tight around his head right over his eyes. He opened them again to see only blackness, sighing with relief and bringing his lust back under control--a little--as he managed to avoid punishment, then paused, confused: how was he supposed to get back into the van now? He couldn't see where it was!

"Good dragon," the voice said smoothly. "Let the driver lead you back into the van and help you get anchored in, then he'll drive you to your sixth task."

He bobbed his head, then felt something tug on one of the straps of his bridle, trying to pull him forward. He whined softly as the tugs made the bit in the back of his mouth dig a little harder into his gums, stood, then followed his guide in a half-circle, then forward, his steps even smaller now that he couldn't see where he was going. After a little while the pulling stopped, then a gruff voice said, "step up."

Sroth raised his paws and moved them forward to find the back bumper of the van, then slid them in far enough to give his hindquarters room before hopping the rest of the way into the back of the van. Hearing the driver's voice removed any possibility that the van driver was his captor; their voices were far too different.

"A little farther forward," said the driver, and he hobbled a half-step farther into the van. "Good; hold still." There was a pause, then a click, and he tried to raise his forepaws to find them tied down, as expected. "Hindquarters forward." He obliged, stopped, then heard another couple of clicks as the spreader bar was also locked into place. "Good dragon." There were footsteps, then the slam of doors, and he was once again alone in the back of the van. Just him, his restraints, and the vibrator that teased him.

He shuddered with arousal and once again began to hump the air, moaning with desire, as the van carried him off to his next task.