Cream of the Crop
Forward Note: This is a very cute and adorable short story I wrote for my bestest friend in the entire world, The Secret Cave, as a Christmas present. It is based on an artwork he drew of Istaryl, a picture that desperately required its tale to be told. We have both agreed that Istaryl is not a very good cook, but now, we have a unique glimpse into the kitchen to find out what exactly is going on in there ;)
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Story is done by me, Cheetahs
Istaryl belongs to me and The Secret Cave
Cream of the Crop (Gift story written for The Secret Cave )
The North Wind had washed over the Pinebosom Valley, blanketing it with a thin layer of snow in its passing. To every drake in the Stillpine Village, that signaled the start of the preparations for the upcoming Feast to the North Wind. To Istaryl, that damned blizzard brought nothing but frustrations and regrets. If he and Karyl had succeeded in their hunt, they wouldn't have been here to celebrate some stupid, nameless gust that brought nothing but hardships for his kin. He wouldn't have been forced to become Undrethyl's apprentice cook, sworn to serve others at the expense of his thinning patience.
He wasn't even a good cook! In fact, Istaryl might have very well been the worst thing that had happened to "Dragon's Lair" inn. Tucked in his bed, Istaryl brought his knees tighter against his chest, a tremor dashing through his muscles at the sight of his dingy apron. He hated that thing. Would that he could burn it to a crisp. Alas, he now worked under Undrethyl's tutelage, which meant he donned what his master told him to wear and cooked whatever his patrons requested.
What a dreadfully dull existence.
"Istaryl. Wake up. It's well past dawn."
Dawn? What dawn? Not a speckle of light dotted the sky, heavy with clouds ready to crap their frozen load over Istaryl's world. The red drake buried his head into his pillow, folding it over his ears to muffle Undrethyl's persistent calls.
As if that ever stopped the perverted newt. Ill-mannered as always, Undrethyl entered Istaryl's room without knocking, already clad in his brown innkeeper's robes and wearing his silver inlaid bracers, as custom degreed during the Feast to the Northern Wind. Istaryl kept his pair hidden under the bed. He'd only wear them during the actual festivity, and not before nor after.
"Mrrrrr, look at yourself. Like a hatchling refusing to leave mother's nest. Only, that isn't a nest, and you're not really a hatchling, so up you go," he said with a convincing flick of his hand.
"It's too early," Istaryl whined, scrunching his muzzle in displeasure. "I'm your apprentice not your slave."
"We are all apprentices to other dragons and slaves to customs," Undrethyl noted, grabbing Istaryl's apron from its hook and hurling it onto the curled red dragon. "Cheer up, my slave of an apprentice. You bake today."
Wait...baking? Istaryl flung himself out of the bed, fumbled into his apron, rubbed the drowsiness out of his eyes and joined Undrethyl as he left the room, hope in his terrible cooking skills restored.
"What do I bake? How much? For how long?"
"We've got a village to feed, Istaryl, as well as the cream of our tiny society to satisfy. Be creative, rrrr?"
Undrethyl's heavy paw fell onto his head to rub at his ears, much to Istaryl's chagrin. Cream of their tiny society, he said, which was an obvious allusion to cream pies. Why oh why did it have to be cream pies?! Obnoxious, drippy, flat, hard crusted little devils!
Lost in his thoughts, Istaryl didn't even notice that the stairs ended. Undrethyl gave him a reassuring pat on the back, an encouraging nod and a mug of steaming Wildvine coffee.
"Inn's yours until the break of dawn. Have to embellish the Grand Lodge."
"But you're an innkeeper!" Istaryl reproached his queer choice of task. "Why would they possibly need you to weave garlands, work metal and carve runes?"
Undrethyl flaunted a sardonic grin. "There is more to an innkeeper than it meets the eye. One day, I might reveal my secrets to you, but today is not that day."
When was it ever?
A cold gust crept through the half-opened door in Undrethyl's wake, spreading a diaphanous swathe of snow over the lacquered parquet of the inn. Istaryl sighed in veiled irritation, threw a nearby dingy towel onto the floor, stepped on it and swirled his paw around to clear up the snow while sipping his bitter drink.
The wildvine coffee tasted as ferocious as its name implied. It made Istaryl snarl, hiss and growl, its sweet and aromatic undertones too addictive to give up on it. Once his mug was empty and his senses roused, the drake entered the kitchen, enunciating the necessary incantations to ignite the Runewoven ovens to a dull smolder. Biscuits, tarts, pies, bread and everything else turned out puffier if the clay was already lukewarm. Besides, it felt good to practice his fire magic in private. Of all the possible ways to enkindle his affinity to his element, it had to happen inside a kitchen while cooking. Ridiculous....
With the cook hands away to help with irrelevant and gaudy decorations that nobody looked at, the task of arranging the utensils, preparing the ingredients, selecting the proper recipients fell to Istaryl.
First, he conjured cylindrical flames to engulf the vat filled halfway with light red firewater for the funnel cake. While waiting for the firewater to bubble and simmer, he began preparing the thick batter for the almond biscuits and the Brownpine nuts tarts. In a different bowl, he mixed the ingredients for the thinner and creamier batter meant for the pies.
Being an apprentice cook was grueling work during the initial stages. It was a back and forth dash to get this ingredient and that utensil, a struggle to read the barely intelligible scrawling on the recipe parchments, as well as a humongous effort to keep his frustrated roar from shaking up the whole inn.
Istaryl coped with his stress by thinking of Karyl, his mate, and Garyl, his...other mate. A fierce blush tinted Istaryl's cheeks as he thought back on that fateful day. In a fit of frenzied lust, he mated the brother of his actual mate, and all because Undrethyl and Karyl planned this outcome. For the first couple of days, he had been appalled by their audacity, by Karyl's sheer nonchalance and Garyl's playfulness. After Garyl left on his customary ambassador errands, however, Istaryl began to miss the stoic yet placid drake. His personality contrasted with Karyl's, ever in the mood for japes, an aspect that Istaryl found most pleasing about him.
With the batter for the funnel cakes ready, Istaryl poured it into the firewater in circular patterns, caring not one bit for its aspect. It would end up in a dragon's stomach, not on a pedestal, so what difference did it make? He gave the biscuits, tarts and pies the same treatment, carefully folding them to keep the cream from spilling.
And still, it somehow found a way, dripping through cracks and nooks that appeared out of nowhere. Enraged with his inability to keep his pies intact and their flaccid texture, Istaryl shoved them into the oven, flung his apron into a corner and stared in disbelief at the ivory snakes slithering down his chest. A particularly thick one raced towards his genital slit, reaching its destination before the drake had the chance to sweep it off him.
Great mother of irony!
"Looks like you need some help."
Istaryl leaped into the air in unison with his heart at the sound of that deep, familiar voice. Karyl. Thanks goodness it was him!
"I'm fine. Actually, the best thing for you to do is--hey, mind your paws you mangy apricot!" Istaryl rushed towards the kitchen entrance, grabbing his mate by his side horns and pushing him back.
Karyl growled in protest, but stepped back nonetheless, his claws clacking softly on the cold stone floor of the kitchen.
"I can make a mud pie with all that filth," Istaryl said, his ears flattened in exasperation at yet another task he had to fulfill.
"That sounds like something you can get remotely good at," Karyl teased, flashing his pristine fangs in a toothy smile as he eyed the red drake's disheveled form. "That's quite a lot of pent-up passion you're wearing."
"It's Olemba seed cream. Tan colored, in case it escaped your notice." He gathered some of it on his finger and shoved it right into Karyl's mouth, wiping himself on that overly smooth tongue of his.
Karyl licked it off, nuzzling Istaryl's hand, rubbing his cheek against it as he purred comfortingly. "I'll have to lick the rest of it off you."
"I have one too many things in the ovens."
Karyl edged ever closer to Istaryl, a predatory grin spread on his face.
"Not now, you filthy, haired, overgrown newt," Istaryl said, stepping back, eyes darting back and forth to make sure his swishing tail didn't hit a dangling ladle or something. "Take one more step inside my kitchen, and I'll hit you so hard in the slit you'll never eeeeeeeeeeeeep!" Istaryl shrieked as his back met a wall. Before he had the chance to sidestep and evade his mate, Karyl's dirty paws seized his hips, that slobbering tongue assaulting his naked, vulnerable belly. Wide, sweeping strokes glanced off his white scales, tickling him to no end, forcing him to writhe and squeak like a hatchling during his first tongue bath.
"I'm just cleaning you, my mate," Karyl purred between his elaborate licks. "Seems like you spilled your cream all over your body."
Before Istaryl could do so much as yelp, Karyl pressed his snout against his slit, sneaking his tongue through his crevice, reaching deeper into it than necessary. Istaryl's knees buckled, hands grabbing onto his mate's horns for leverage. Being penetrated in such sudden and forceful way shook Istaryl's senses, the flood of pleasure screwing his eyes shut due to its intensity.
"Karyl, eno--enog--enuffffffffffff," Istaryl cried out over the sizzling of the firewater and the crackling of the numerous enchanted flames. The ovens, as well as their contents, remained impassive to his plight.
His malehood, however, did not. It fed on his weakness, and thrived on his failed attempts to stop his mate from eating his slit out as if it was a prized Foloin nuts cookie. The hungry slurps drew his crimson spire out of its hiding, the swelling, hardening organ throbbing for attention. No matter how much Istaryl wanted to cover himself, he couldn't. He simply froze in place, disoriented, trapped in a surreal realm between dream, duty, and reality.
"I think you deserve a reward for all the hard work you're putting into all this," Karyl rumbled lustfully, running his tongue along his smooth shaft.
Istaryl didn't even have time to process the words of his mate, much less reply to him. All he had to offer was a yelp, followed by a shuddering moan, ended by a grunt as Karyl took Istaryl's entire length in his maw, held securely by his long tongue. It all happened so fast, that Istaryl blinked several times, as if to make sure this was truly happening.
The tingles of fiery pleasure slithering through his member proved as much, and Karyl remained still for the time being, nudging Istaryl's tapered tip with the back of his tongue, gazing into the eyes of his mate, mischievousness dancing within those vermilion spheres.
Without warning, Karyl pulled back, tongue slowly unraveling, leaving Istaryl's shaft wet with saliva.
"I can stop if you wish ..." Karyl paused to lick the puffy sides of Istaryl's lips, forcefully spread around his fully engorged cock. Unable to resist that temptation, Karyl licked it up to the tip before continuing. "But I will be gone for the better part of the day, and I wish not to let my mate filled with liquid, creamy frustration."
Istaryl's tongue tangled in his mouth. His cheeks filled with molten blood, and a myriad of thoughts swarmed through his head. Unable to trust his words, the red drake merely nodded, leaning his head back as he released his pent-up exhale. This was happening. This was really happening!
And it was infinitely more awkward than Istaryl expected.
"Ghaah!" he groaned, his muscles tensing up, hips jerking upwards out of their own accord to plunge deeper into the slick confines of Karyl's maw, forgetting all about those too sharp teeth while caught in the fetters of pure lust.
Not that they mattered. Karyl knew how to safeguard Istaryl from them with the help of his mobile tongue, how to tease him with a slow, bobbing motion of his head, meant to keep him on edge. This mischievous, feral dragon sure knew how to give a blowjob, as proven by Istaryl's shuddering frame, pursed lips, and scrunched eyebrows whenever that tongue squeezed his cock, dragging him further inside.
Thanks to his lengthy muzzle, Karyl had an easy way maneuvering Istaryl around. At first, he mostly used the roof of his mouth and tongue to stimulate the red drake, forcing his tapered tip upwards, allowing him to thrust and sink further down his gullet without the peril of grazing his sensitive shaft. Then, he started suckling Istaryl's tip, insisting upon the pointy head, making Istaryl claw at the walls and floor in sheer elation.
Pleased with his reaction, the dragon folded his tongue around Istaryl's member, squeezing and softening his grip in unison with the undulating, up and down motion of his muzzle. This way, whenever he took in Istaryl, the grip of his tongue made Istaryl feel as if he sank inside a tight passage rather than a loose maw, only to ease back out a moment after and recover.
The speed of Karyl's strokes left no room for recovery, however. He must have realized Istaryl teetered on the edge, for he relaxed his tongue and spread his jaws further for the upcoming deep throat.
Sparks ignited within Istaryl's slit, his member swelling and hardening at the same time with the seed that threatened to erupt out of him.
"I--I think I'll...nghhhhh," Istaryl moaned, the pleasure too deep and intense to retain his voice. Karyl gave him no moment of respite either. He sped up his pace, stimulating Istaryl past the point of no return before seizing him with his tongue and tugging at his member, pushing his tapered tip into the tight, silken confines of his throat.
Istaryl broke loose down Karyl's throat with the might of an avalanche. Thick seed lanced against Karyl's shuddering tunnel, which his mate gulped down effortlessly, his tail wagging with obvious excitement while Istaryl moaned his guts out from how good it felt to cum inside such warm, tight, and wet confines.
Just before his orgasm faded, Karyl pulled back, allowing the red drake's final jets to flood his mouth, his cheeks ballooning from Istaryl's pent-up frustrations. He took a second before swallowing it, making sure to lick Istaryl's shrinking member of any remaining droplets before cleaning his muzzle.
"You should put this cream into the pies. If I enjoy it, the others shall," Karyl said, gently patting Istaryl's thigh with a forepaw, smearing more of his mud onto his scales. "Now, what exactly do you need help with?"
The ovens crackled. The firewater bubbled audibly. Steam rose from everything and everywhere around them, too much and too thick.
"Everything!" Istaryl growled, desperate to save his sweets from a grim fate.
** ***THE END*****
End note: This story is based in the same universe with Hidden Desires, so if you missed that one, check it out here: https://www.sofurry.com/view/1087119
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