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Dignity for Honor

Hyranyr groaned as he rolled onto his side, wincing in pain while trying to hide it. He had been bedridden for days after the taking of the village beyond the pass, and while he was recovering, he felt that it took far too long. His many handlers were coming in and out of his tent, chatting among themselves while applying salve and bandages to his wounds, always repeating their incessant platitudes. This patronizing attitude upset him, yet he stomached it all the same, especially when a large silhouette filled the doorway to his quarters, giving him all the more reasons to behave.

When he turned to look, he saw Ilyniel standing tall over his many handlers. He immediately lowered his gaze, self-conscious about his sorry state. Since taking the village, he had spent the entirety of his days curled up in his tent, too weak to engage in his duties.

"Good afternoon, Hyranyr." She said, an air of dignity surrounding her and fueling her words. "Been having a fun time sleeping the days away?"

Hyranyr huffed, smoke billowing out of his nostrils to show his disdain. He didn't respond, as he worried that he might say something sarcastic or rude, and while he felt the need to atone for his inadequacies, he nevertheless didn't want to make light of it or risk upsetting those to whom he reported. Ilyniel was a high-ranking member of the regiment, and if he was insubordinate, he could be expelled; he couldn't imagine going back to that old coot Kylen. He had learned that he was much better than that.

"That good, is it?" She joked. "I have to admit that I am jealous. Dragon takes a few bumps, ends up in a hay bale, and now he gets to lounge around with two dozen hands massaging him and applying potions and salves to his wounds. I approve. If I weren't so keen on being on the front line, I'd love to spend my days being preened and cared for by dozens of worshipers!" She grinned as she stepped into the tent, her long and twisty body moving in waves to get close.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to be so useless." He grumbled, rolling onto his belly close to her while looking up, his chin firmly laid on the ground. The intent was to keep as low as he could to show submission and self-awareness, instead of contesting her claims or arguing with her.

Ilyniel looked down at him and slowly shook her head. Without breaking eye contact, she addressed the many handlers. "If you don't mind, I'd like to have some time alone with my friend here."

Each of the handlers shared a glance before quickly slipping out of the tent, closing the flap in their wake.

"Do you really need to be alone to tell me how disappointed you are?" Hyranyr asked, not moving from his position on the ground.

She scoffed gently and leaned over his shoulder to slice at the bandages, exposing his sore scales as well as the ointment that had been applied there. "Why in the world would you think I was disappointed in you, Hyranyr?" She asked, leaning in close to lightly prod near the wound to check for inflammation. "I'm actually quite proud of you."

He rolled his eyes and winced in pain again, the discomfort from her prodding near his wounds proving to be a little overwhelming. "I don't need your patronizing attitude, Ilyniel. I'm not a hatchling anymore, and I don't need constant validation that I'm doing well. I failed you, I failed our people, and I've been useless for days. You don't need to hide your disdain behind a veil of niceties."

"You seem so utterly certain of my ill intent, yet you don't seem to realize that I'm sincere." Ilyniel leaned in closer to get a good look at the swollen area between his shoulder and the base of his wing. "You did very well, and may very well have saved my life in the battle by sacrificing yourself to take out those defenses. Plus, given how much damage your body suffered, I'm sort of shocked that you're alive at all. That's very impressive."

"Yeah, I know, a few minor wounds were expecting to take out the new recruit, I persist onl-"

"Would you knock it out." She hissed, lightly flicking her tail at his snout - an act that lightly blew her most feminine of scents near him. "I've seen more skilled and battle-hardened warriors fall to wounds less severe than this. I'm genuinely impressed that you are not only alive, but recovering so quick. You did a good thing; one day I may even convince you that you're worth the compliments I offer you." She seemed almost indignant in her insistent push to compliment him, as well as exposed.

That declaration made him swell in pride as he fought a grin from spreading across his maw. He felt terrible for feeling great about the compliment, but also knew that she was being sincere based on her tone and how hard it seemed to be for her to say. He knew her only a couple weeks since being sold to the military, but he knew she wasn't the most willing to just dish out compliments. One had to earn it if they wanted her to recognize them. This swelling of pride also came with a swelling of his loins as her scent wafted over him and the once-unpleasant prodding of his wounds gave way to the aura of a pleasant massage. Knowing this, he shifted his legs to cover his loins, hiding them from her.

But Ilyniel was quite perceptive and had seen the exposed tip of his member before he covered it with his inner thigh. She laughed gently and kept working at his many wounds, kneading from one to another over his body to test and see which ones were closer to healing than others. Then, as she got near his haunches, she gave him a long, loving lick under his wing near one of his wounds, noticing that he squirmed a bit in such a way that more of his member seemed to swell and protrude from between his legs. Knowing this, she deliberately nuzzled and licked and kneaded more around his haunches to elicit more from him.

Hyranyr wasn't as keen on such actions, as he was still reeling from the faint memories of the last time he was with her. Given that he had just endured a dangerous and potentially fatal battle mere hours before she took his virginity in that barn, his mind wasn't fully into what she had to offer, and the whole event felt more like a fading dream than a memory. For that reason, he felt like he still had an opportunity to show her a proper good time for his first.

But he wasn't ready yet. His body was still sore, his muscles tense and stiff beyond what he felt he could overcome. If she touched him, he wasn't even sure he could get fully erect for her.

That was a lie. He was getting hard already, and tried to focus on something else to keep him from getting to that most embarrassing point, like the memories of the battle, or the ballistas launching massive arrows at him in the air. That should have been plenty to distract him.

And it was, until she nipped at his haunches while kneading at his hip muscles, idly licking him as she pored over his form to better investigate his every wound. The nibble made him moan and whimper a bit, his resolve already beginning to falter.

"Sounds like you are healed enough to sample the joys of being touched" she said, her sweet voice dripping with saccharine tones. "This is certainly encouraging news." She then burrowed under his belly to flip him onto his back, forcing him into a position with all fours aimed towards the tent above them, front legs folded and held to his chest, hind legs squeezed together to hide his member from her. As she stepped forth to straddle him, he couldn't help but position himself to push her away. While he did this, she noticed the moist spot on his lower belly, his scales darkened by a puddle of precum he'd been leaking. "And here I thought I'm supposed to be the wet one here." She joked, pawing at his chest.

He wasn't ready, not even close. "Ilyniel..." He squeaked, cheeks flush with pink under his scales. "I don't think...I mean I...can we...I don't think I can please you, I don't want to disappoint you again. You d-deserve better." He covered his face with his front paws.

Ilyniel ignored his protests to step over him, straddling his hips with her tail up, vent exposed as she stared down into his eyes. "Don't you understand, Hyranyr? I could have any drake in this camp if I so chose, but I choose you for this exact reason. You're young, you're inexperienced, and it's just the cutest thing to see you try so hard to impress me. I don't get that with others, but you? You are...different." She leaned in close to nuzzle at his cheek, trilling deep from within her gullet as she whispered in his ear. "And I know you'll do anything to impress me, to prove your worth to me." As she spoke, she swayed her hips until her vent found his cock tip, allowing her to gradually press down and wiggle, forcing her lips to slowly swallow him.

Hyranyr threw his head back as his entire spine arched, body tensing despite his sore muscles as he pressed his hips up into hers. The pleasure was even more intense than he remembered, but that didn't stop him from whimpering in disdain, sensing his seed already gather at the base of his member, ready to erupt into Ilyniel.

"You have opportunities to learn, and I to provide them," she whispered in his ear, licking and nuzzling at his neck and shoulder as she eased her way down his ridged shaft, quickly kissing her lips to his as their tails entwined, a light growl escaping her as she quickly found his girth to be pleasantly cumbersome. Once he was fully inside her, she started grinding and gyrating her hips, clenching her pelvic muscles in such a way to pleasure him in gentle strokes and waves.

Despite being distracted by her intense lovemaking, Hyranyr found the lucidity to lean back into her, biting and nibbling and licking at her neck and shoulders like she had to him, only he found his tongue gently slapping on her scales and his bites missing their mark. He was a clumsy, inexperienced drake, one that couldn't possibly be good enough for her, yet he still tried.

Ilyniel giggled to herself, bouncing her hindquarters on his midsection, slapping her lips to his in an attempt to bring her drake to climax. She knew he wasn't going to last long - the look in his eyes and erratic behaviour a dead giveaway - yet she was impressed that he had already lasted nearly as long as the first time they were together.

"S-slow down." He cautioned, sensing he wouldn't last much longer at all. He could feel her supple walls slamming down on him, squeezing and tugging with expert precision. Hyranyr knew that if she didn't slow down, he would be done within seconds, and he lacked the strength to push her off.

She considered stopping for a moment, to give her partner a brisk reprieve, but instead sped up and started rapidly slamming her loins to his, each of their bodies creating a juicy splash of lubricant and precum, dotting their bellies with darkened spots of fluid from deep within them.

Hyranyr found himself quickly brimming to climax as his member remained sunken deep in Ilyniel's depths, her flesh squeezing and stroking him even as she remained mostly still. She licked and kneaded at him, nuzzling and nibbling at his scales as her sex aggressively constricted him. Though he'd been trying his best to extend their mutual pleasure, and to reciprocate her forms of affection by nibbling back, he soon found himself involuntarily throwing his head back and grinding his hips into hers as his orgasm erupted deep into the dragoness, his many ridges throbbing and pulsing with every shot of thick, pent-up seed that coated her inner walls.

Time and again, he whimpered and bucked, the apex of each motion shooting forth another, progressively weaker ejaculation. Moments of this passed in bliss as he grew dizzy, then barely lucid in the wake of his pent-up orgasm. He whimpered, lower jaw trembling alongside every heavy breath, vision going blurry as he struggled to keep himself from slipping into a well-deserved nap.

Ilyniel chose that moment to lean in and give him one final lick before stepping off his loins towards his upper body and chest, her sex giving one last tug of his shrinking member before pulling away with a juicy, guttural squelch. She clenched to force out much of the mess he'd made, trapping the rest deep inside her while she leaned forth to nuzzle into him again, resting comfortably in his front talons.

"Halbyr nyu...ah, hnnng ye." He was clearly speaking only in gibberish, as he had been mated senseless, but that didn't discourage him from trying. Many minutes passed with them together before he was able to think in full words and form a sentence. "S-so, did you enjoy that as much as I? Did I bring you to the peak of your pleasure?"

In response, she lightly chuckled as she got to all fours. Now standing, she left little trails of his seed dribbling out from under her tail, soaking his inner thigh, flank, and belly before she turned to the tent's door. "Trust me, Hyranyr, you'd know if you got to that point. The whole camp would know." She lifted her tail to give him one more look at the mess he'd made, the thick seed dribbling down to the ground.

"How will you, I mean, do you need any help with my...mess? I mean, it tastes terrible and gets stuck in the th-" midway through his inquiry and offer, Ilyniel offered him one last chirp and trill before slipping out of the tent. In her place came half a dozen handlers, each equipped with towels and rags and soapy water to clean him.

Embarrassed, Hyranyr tried to cover himself up so that he might maintain some modesty. Problem was, the handlers were instructed to help clean him off at any cost, and thus they didn't pause to let his member slip back up into his genital slit or have his wing cover his body. They brought in buckets of sudsy, steaming water with rags and towels to rub every scale on his body, even the ones around his slit. He tried to hide his face while he concentrated on what Ilyniel had told him, but was distracted by the sensation of hands caressing his opening as well as cloths being dragged along his length.

When he finally looked down, he saw one of the handlers with a gob of his seed between two fingers, which he sneakily licked before making a pained face and tossing the cum to the ground. None of the other handlers saw this, but Hyranyr did, and it made him laugh. His essence must have been potent, for the handler to make such a grossed-out face. Before they were done, he did hear the one who tasted him making a comment to a female companion, and they both laughed a bit. Hyranyr wasn't sure if he should take that as a compliment or an insult.

The cleaning didn't last all too long - mostly they just needed to wipe down around his haunches, belly, and between his hind legs. They still gave him a full-bodied wipe down followed by a rinse in hot water, but that wasn't enough to wash off his shame. He didn't like that they had so casually been brought in while he was covered in his own mess. He wanted to be mad at Ilyniel, because it was clear that she had planned this, but he couldn't stay angry with her given how much pleasure she gave him on two separate occasions.

Once he was completely cleaned off, rinsed, and dried, he shooed his handlers out of his tent to give him time to think, which allowed him to stew in his own thoughts for the duration of that afternoon.

All his life he lacked magic, lacked skill, and lacked purpose. When he tried, he failed regardless of what it was he was trying to do, and that certainly didn't help him. He knew, deep down inside, that much of his failure was attributed to his poor self-image, but he couldn't fix that without making progress in life or impressing his superiors. Hyranyr always chased his sister's lead, his master's hand, and now the general's command, and it seemed he couldn't help but fail.

Even in victory, he felt a failure due to having to spend the next week in bed being pampered by dozens of handlers who did everything for him short of holding him to relieve himself. He fell in battle, he failed at combat, and he couldn't even show Ilyniel the respect she deserved.

And yet, she still chose to mate with him. Not once, but twice now. Immediately after the battle, she had found him and rewarded him for his failure, and then again one week later after a week of laying in bed. Was this her way of poking fun at him? Was she only saying what she thought would lift his spirits so he could be used for her pleasure? Was she sincere? He had no way of knowing the answers to any of these questions, and knew that the only person who truly knew was Ilyniel herself.

Had Hyranyr possessed more confidence, he'd have burst from that tent to find her and demand answers, regardless of who tried to stop him or questioned his motives.

Instead, he took a brisk nap, but it didn't help much given the fact that his mind was a storm of self-loathing mixed in with enough encouragement to make him feel like he was prepared to make a stand. When he awoke, he had accumulated just enough confidence to take himself from his gloom and out of his tent to seek out Ilyniel.

However, the moment he stepped foot out of the confines of his tent, he was greeted with the image of the village he had liberated filled with dozens of other soldiers all stopping in place, turning to stare, and giving him a round of applause. Some crowded around him to ask him questions, others called at him from afar, and a few even tried to get a hug from him. This made him feel so awkward, as he had no idea how to interpret their crooning. To his ears, it sounded positive, but he knew that couldn't be right.

"Hyranyr! Welcome back, we've missed you!" He heard one person say.

"Many well-wishes upon your recovery, and thanks for your bravery!" Another boasted.

"So good to have you back, the regiment is not the same without you! Three cheers for the heroics of Hyranyr!" More instigated a cheer, praising his work while liberating the village.

None of this felt right, though. He was no hero, he was some fool who barreled headfirst into enemy weapons, thus negating his influence on the battle within minutes. He had been incapacitated for a week, was under trained, lacked any magical ability, and couldn't even pleasure a female properly. He was a failure in every way - at least in his mind - so of course that meant that this was all a ruse. A subtle jab at him to remind him how useless he actually was.

Panicked, he pushed through the crowd of faux admirers and spread his wings, catching some air to buoy him just enough that he could flap and hover over the village. Every flap made him feel sore in the wing shoulders and down his torso, even his tail - which he used as a rudder - felt stiff and uncomfortable as steered his way away from the village.

This couldn't be right, the villagers and soldiers were all mocking him. That was the only explanation he could think up, because he was not a war hero, he was not brave, and he was not good enough to please anyone else; he could barely please himself! All he could do was run away, or barrel headfirst into the enemy, both were equally useless to others.

Stewing in the mire of his own self-doubt, Hyranyr flapped his wings as hard as he could, climbing in altitude until he found himself a cave high in the mountains above the village. A cave was the proper place for a beast such as himself; barely more than a feral and just as useful. Upon landing at the cave's opening, he winced in pain and tested his wing, finding it to be far more sore than he had initially expected. In his rush to leave the village and his team, he had somehow managed to let the adrenaline override any pain or discomfort felt in his wing.

Hyranyr was frustrated with himself and with the situation, so he did the only thing he knew how to do when he was angry. He didn't go and badger Ilyniel, he instead just curled up in a ball on the cave floor, rubbing against the wall with his tail wrapped around him, once again finding excuses to pity himself rather than focus on the good.

He couldn't help it. Hyranyr was not useless, and his allies weren't teasing him, but he lacked the mindset to realize this. A life of being reminded of his inferiority had assured him time and again that all compliments come with a caveat, and that sincerity was only true if it was negative. This was a poor mindset to live with, but that didn't change how he felt.

This self-depreciation lasted for the better part of an hour until he felt the sound of scraping at the opening to the cave that he'd called his retreat. He looked up to see the orange, black, and cream colors of Tarenad's front leg grasping over the lip of the cliff, pulling the rest of his body up with great strain. Not an image that made Hyranyr happy.

"Oh great, just what I need, a pep talk." He grumbled to himself, shaking his head and burying it under his wing again so he didn't have to watch his dragon companion arrive.

With a heaving grunt and a bit of a growl, Tarenad pulled the last of his body over the side of the cliff to slip into the cave alongside Hyranyr. "Why are you here?" His tone was soft, but his words were harsh and accusatory, something Hyranyr was not prepared to deal with.

"Why are you here?" Hyranyr grumbled.

Though tentative and resistant at first, Tarenad stepped closer to Hyranyr, holding his head up high to give an aura of authority. "I don't always feel comfortable back in the village, and by the looks of it, neither do you."

Hyranyr raised his head and shivered a bit. He wanted to talk, or to confide in a fellow dragon, but his natural defenses kept him contained and unwilling to expose his emotions. "I just don't fit. Isn't that obvious? I'm not a warrior."

"Neither was I, until I joined the military." He shuffled in closer, eyes darting around as if he didn't know where to look. "Nobody's a warrior, until they are. Having a purpose also helps. I fight for the people. Ilyniel fights for herself. But who do you fight for?"

His words were encouraging, but it didn't convince Hyranyr that he was capable of doing anything while in the military. He figured that, given his first performance while liberating the village, that one of these days he's do something stupid and end up with a lance through his heart. "You say we all need to find our purpose, but what if my place isn't here? I don't belong here, I'm too stupid to be in a war that I don't understand. You saw what I did, I flew headfirst into those ballistas, I'm only alive because of luck, and because our people took a full week to nurse me back to health."

Tarenad's eyebrow went up and he half-cocked a smile. "You really think that? You do know that we likely wouldn't have won that battle if not for your recklessness, right?"

"How so?" Hyranyr asked, eyes narrowed.

"Had you not taken such a direct route to their aerial defenses, neither Ilyniel nor I would have made it to the walls. Had you not taken out so much of their ground defenses, even our large regiment wouldn't have been able to breach their walls. Your foolish and gutsy attack on them broke open the doors for the rest of us. That's why people cheer you, they know that you're willing to lay down your life for them, and that makes you valuable." Tarenad spoke with a tone that was very matter-of-fact, yet his words were backhanded, insulting Hyranyr while also complimenting him.

As a result, Hyranyr wasn't sure what to say or what to do in response to that. Half of what his dragon companion said really inspired him, while the other half scared him.

But Tarenad wasn't done. "Those handlers that were eager to tend to your wounds? They did that because they saw value in you. The other soldiers who swarmed you before you fled? They were all fans of yours eager to show you how much they appreciated you. They swarmed you like that because Ilyniel didn't want them interrupting your recovery period. Some villagers wanted to give you meat or blankets to honor you for helping to liberate their village."

"Wh-why didn't anyone tell me this?" Hyranyr asked, a quivering sob catching in his throat. He felt as though a huge weight had been lifted, like his insecurities had been given a devastating blow and he was gaining confidence. What little he knew of Tarenad from his time at the camp was that Tarenad did not mince words or hold back, for better or for worse. He was known for just saying what he thought and telling truths even if those words would hurt. The fact that he was so casually telling Hyranyr this gave him hope.

Tarenad scoffed. "We did. You just didn't listen."

In retrospect, this seemed quite obvious to Hyranyr. He hung his head, shaking it gently. "I guess I just wasn't ready to accept that my foolishness could be so helpful." He confessed. "Now, if only I could find a way to please Ilyniel properly, maybe I could find the value in myself." It was an offhanded comment, but it seemed to get quite the reaction from Tarenad.

"What do you mean, please Ilyniel? Has she been courting you?" His voice was tenser now, like an interrogator.

This didn't bother Hyranyr, though, as he had gained just enough self-confidence to want to boast about having taken the most beautiful dragoness he'd met. "You could say that. She, uh, met me in the barn after the battle at the village, and while I was partially decommissioned after the battle, she had her way with me!"

"Did she now? Tell me more! What was it like?" Tarenad pushed, voice almost snakelike.

"It was nice. Quick, but nice. I wish I'd had more time to really focus on her, to give her the courtship she rightly deserves." As his mind drifted back to the dream-like memories of that first intimate encounter with her, his insecurities flared up again, reminding him that he lasted mere seconds. "If she makes another pass at me, I'll have to hold back more. She deserves more from me."

Tarenad scoffed at him once again. "Don't preoccupy yourself with such thoughts. Mating isn't about the journey, but the destination, which is always the same." He patted Hyranyr on the shoulder, tail lightly caressing his lower spine by mistake.

This made Hyranyr lean over, finally comfortable enough with Tarenad to give a gentle nuzzle of affection, to show he appreciated the advice.

Immediately, Tarenad hopped away, wincing with one front paw up; his serpentine body bent in such a way that it looked like he was recoiling.

"Wh-what did I do?" Hyranyr asked, scuttling away in shame to press his body to the cliff wall. "I didn't mean to offend, I just-"

"It doesn't matter," Tarenad assured. "Just don't...do it again." He paused a bit to think to himself, unsure of how to continue that statement. Instead, he turned to bound away to the edge of the cliff, halting mid-sentence.

Hyranyr stopped him. "Wait, don't go, I was just, you know..." He trailed off, lowering his gaze as he mumbled. "I was just starting to get to know you." He scraped some lines in the sand, nervous.

Tarenad bowed and saluted. "Good for you." With those parting words, he leapt off the cliff to land on another rocky spire, which took him down the mountain to the village, leaving Hyranyr to stew in his own thoughts.

And stew he did, for Hyranyr had a lot more to think about now that he had a new perspective to mull over, and a reassurance that the admiration sent his way just may have been more sincere than he initially expected.

Suddenly, life in the military seemed worth living, perhaps even worth dying for.

Hyranyr spent the next few hours alone in the cave high above the village, pondering and thinking to himself about his future and his slowly shifting sense of self-worth. That deep-rooted insecurity was never going to fully go away, but Tarenad's assurance that he was well liked helped, and that mixed with Ilyniel's actions towards him made him feel like he was more than just a military grunt.

By about the time the sun went down and the horizon faded from orange to a dark blue with the sky being dotted with stars, Hyranyr had finally worked up the confidence to once again rejoin his people and spend some time talking to Ilyniel about the thoughts he'd been struggling with all day. His wings and back were still sore from the ascent to the mountain cave, but gliding was far easier than flapping, so he would be fine.

The dragon stepped out of the cave and curled his talons over the cliff to look at the village on the other side of the pass, eyeing the many people milling about and wondering how many of them would applaud him upon his return. He then spread his wings to catch a breeze and hopped away from the cliff side, gliding all the way down to the ground level for his regiment, muscles straining and soreness being amplified with every adjustment against the breeze.

Upon landing, a few dozen different villagers and soldiers gave him a rousing ovation, clapping and cheering for his arrival before returning to their jobs plowing fields and sharpening blades. Hyranyr was actually impressed with how many had admired him, and that gave him even more self confidence that was needed to approach Ilyniel.

It wasn't until he folded his wings that he realized that he didn't actually know where Ilyniel was spending her nights. She used to sleep in her custom tent, but he hadn't seen that from his perch on the cliff top ever since the regiment moved to occupy the village, and it hadn't occurred to him until this moment that he didn't know what barn or garage she called her quarters. It wasn't until he remembered where it was that she'd taken him after the battle that he realized where she likely was hiding.

Hyranyr trotted through the village down one of the paths towards the largest barn nestled in between two cliffs overlooking an orchard with seared trees, slipping past other soldiers and locals on his new quest. As he arrived, he noticed that there were no guards watching over the swinging twin doors, nor were there any handlers coming or going. Could this mean that she was completely alone, or did it mean she wasn't here at all and that he had misjudged her interest in this location?

Either answer would have bolstered his confidence, so he bounded forth to pull at the doors, opening them both at the same time. Inside, he saw Ilyniel laying on her back on a pile of furs and pillows, her golden scales and peach mane glistening with the reflection of the many lanterns that illuminated her abode. Hyranyr stopped in his tracks.

"I was wondering how long it would take for you to seek me out, Hyranyr." Her sultry voice ran deep through him, making him flush with adrenaline and desire.

There were no handlers or guards in the barn, which helped to alleviate any fears or reservations he had about seeking her out. If there were no others around, there was no chance of him being reminded about his previous inadequacy in her bed. "I don't know what you mean, miss Ilyniel. I was unwell and needed some time alone." He explained, confidence draining with every word.

Ilyniel rolled to her feet and stood next to Hyranyr, smiling and purring in that distinct, rumbling way only a dragon could. "I know that, but I assumed your desire for intimacy would lead you back to me, where you belong. Not off into the mountains away from your people. But that's okay, I forgive you." She stepped forth and wrapped her body around his, her long form slithering under his tail and past his flank. "But now you're here, and I'd like to thank you for that."

Hyranyr gulped; he knew what that meant, yet no amount of internalized confidence was enough to prepare him for it. He wanted to say something suave, to show how brash he had psyched himself up to be, but instead said, "Wh-what for? What did I do to earn your thanks?"

She stepped out from beside him, rubbing her spine from the base of her skull to the base of her tail under his chin before leaping away with her tail up, exposing herself. "You're so cute when you get bashful. I thank you for your allegiance, reward you for your loyalty. You're the only drake in the camp, and for that reason I feel a kinship with you."

"What about Tarenad?" Hyranyr asked what he thought was a pretty innocent question.

"Ugh, don't get me started on Tarenad." Ilyniel scoffed as she lowered her tail and flopped down on her pile of furs. "That fool, for all his skill, doesn't know how to treat a lady."

This declaration made Hyranyr think back to what Tarenad had told him in the cave. "Wait, what's so bad about Tarenad? He seems to want what's best for us, and wants to see me succeed."

Ilyniel rolled her eyes and sighed, splaying out on her pile of furs. "Try not to think about it. Just come spend some time with me, I could use your warmth up here in the heights of the mountain." She patted the space next to her with her wing, rolling onto her side in the process to expose her belly.

Such an open and warm looking invitation could not be denied, so Hyranyr bowed and crept forth to lay next to her, nuzzling up into her belly with his head on her haunches. "Like this?" He asked, happy and eager to leave the discussion of Tarenad and Ilyniel's opinion of him in the past. As hoped, the two were able to relax and enjoy the company of each other for many minutes until Ilyniel let slip more information about the other dragon in their camp.

"He's just not a pleasant dragon." She opined, stroking at Hyranyr's neck.

"Who?" He asked, given the sudden change of topic after many pleasant moments of cuddling.

She hissed. "Tarenad. He's something of a spiteful whelp with the mindset of a hatchling. He doesn't have the faintest idea how to please a dragoness, and from my experience would rather watch than participate. Foolish drake." She scoffed, practically spitting when she called him foolish. "I truly hope that you disregard any advice he's given you concerning your time with me."

"Wh-what do you mean? I'm not sure I follow; what makes you bring this up?" Hyranyr asked.

She pulled out from under his head to knead at some of her furs to make a pillow to lay upon. "I saw him follow you to that cave. I bet he filled you with all manner of bad advice. The drake can fight, and he knows how to handle combat, but he has absolutely no ability to be diplomatic; his life away from other dragons has corrupted him, left him impotent." She then turned to Hyranyr with a soft smile. "But you, you seem eager to learn, to understand. That's why I'm so keen on sharing myself with you. I sense great potential in you, not only as a warrior, but as a lover, if that's what you desire."

Hyranyr couldn't help but bow and blush, wings trembling as he felt a swell of honor build in him. "Y-yes please." He begged. "I would greatly love that."

She leaned in and rubbed her cheek to his, trilling gently. "I'm glad to hear that. So tell me, what was it that the fool Tarenad told you about lovemaking?"

He gulped and lowered his gaze, realizing that it didn't matter what he said because she'd be upset. "Well, he told me that all dragons have a place in this world and that as a drake it's my duty to pass my seed onto a female, regardless of how little time that takes."

"Hmph. Typical Tarenad. Well, I'm sure you know that is horrendous advice, for there are few greater joys in life than to bring pleasure to a dragoness. Seed is nice, but it's the climax, not the journey. Look, I don't wish to dwell on his bad advice too long, but I will say that your goal in life shouldn't be to 'deposit seed', but to pleasure your partners. Why do you think I care so much about bringing you pleasure? I do that because I find you endearing and I hope that one day you will return the favor. Do you understand?"

After a nervous gulp, Hyranyr nodded. "I do." It was clear that Ilyniel didn't like talking about Tarenad unless battle strategies were discussed, so Hyranyr planned on never bringing him or his advice up with her again, not even the good advice about every dragon needing to find their place.

Ilyniel smiled and patted Hyranyr's shoulder with her wing, pulling him in close. "Good, because I was thinking of something I could do for you, something to help you learn how to better be in control of your body, to help you last longer. I want to feel you in me, Hyranyr, and I want you to last as long as I do." She lightly pushed him away with her hind legs as she rolled onto her back, completely exposing her belly and sex. "I think that, if you're on top and in control, you can dictate when to take a break, when to hold back, and when to finish."

"O-oh, I see." He whimpered to himself, barely noticing in time that he was starting to drool at the sight of her exposed vent. This was a huge turning point for him because it proved to him just how much she cared for him, and that his poor performance didn't matter as long as he tried, and he cared. Tarenad had given him bad advice, but the fact that he'd said such things proved to Hyranyr that, at least to some, quick sessions were normal and therefore he was in some ways normal. Furthermore, Ilyniel was keen on helping to train him, to urge him forth, to teach him how to last longer. Like everything else in life, pleasuring one's partner took practice and dedication, two things that Ilyniel seemed to be dedicated to offering Hyranyr. She cared, she wanted him to be dedicated to her pleasure.

With the dragoness splayed out before him and his confidence bolstered, Hyranyr stepped over her with his hind legs hovering over hers. He knew how to mate, yet still found the positioning a bit awkward as his member slowly slithered from his slit, drooling precum all over her belly, tail, and inner thighs. "Forgive me, Ilyniel." He cautioned as he glanced down between them, trying to best to aim without grabbing himself.

Ilyniel's tail wrapped around his to comfort him. "Don't worry, you do what you need to, I'm not leaving you until you're done." She offered his cheek a nuzzle and a lick before leaning back, legs spread and hips angled up at him to perfectly receive him.

The caress gave him the confidence he needed to press his hips to hers, adjusting and grinding as he did so until he felt his tip slip between her scales and into her depths. The heat of her flesh enveloped him, filling him with a warmth that spread from his groin to both his chest and tail, making every scale stand on end in pleasure. A gentle whimper came from within as he dug his front claws into the furs beneath them both, growling deeply as he started to pump into her.

She reached out and stroked at his chest, feeling his muscles and smiling at him despite the fact that his eyes were closed. She lightly bucked up into him, while deliberately holding back in order to not take too much control from him. Her depths were soaking with her arousal, the flesh malleable and needy for a drake, two things she knew he wouldn't fail to notice.

In truth, Hyranyr was quickly overwhelmed with the pleasure of her body and the sensation of being in control. He could feel how wet and malleable she was, two things that came into play with every brisk thrust he offered her. The moisture between them seeped out from her vent to soak her belly scales, forcing a gentle slap and squish to be heard every time he bucked.

What started erratic and disjointed quickly refined into a more rhythmic thrust that lasted only a few minutes before once again devolving into a series of uneven shudders and jerks highlighted by a series of whimpers. Hyranyr grunted and growled at himself as he felt his pleasure bubbling up too quickly to subdue, resulting in him quickly bursting his own seed into her alongside one final thrust and grind. The mess from the both of them spurted out from between her flesh and his to paint his belly, drooling down onto her tail in the process.

Embarrassed, Hyranyr lowered his gaze to look between them as he tried thrusting again. His shrinking member refused to stay inside her and instead squirmed out with another flow of his cum, another source of shame as far as he was concerned. "I-I'm sorry, Ilyniel, you were just so...so slick, so soft." He fantasized as the last wisps of sensation shot through his flesh. "I couldn't help myself."

Ilyniel stayed in place as she grumbled at herself, smiling at him still. "I told you, Hyranyr, don't worry too much about it. You lasted longer than the last two times, so you're learning. I have a few more ideas for what we can try in the morning, but for now, just come here. You need your rest." She opened her wing and extended her forepaw, inviting him to cuddle with her.

The shame of having failed to pleasure her once more may have slowed his willingness to cuddle, but the warmth she offered was too much to resist, so he crawled over her body and nestled up next to her, wondering what sort of lewd plans she had for him. No matter what they were, he was happy to give it a try.

He knew her to be rough and hard on the outside, but the more time they spent together, the clearer it was she had a soft spot for him, and the more affection he felt for her.

Those thoughts stirred in his mind as the two cuddled together, with sleep eventually taking them both.

The next morning, Hyranyr was awoken by the startling sensation of falling off a cliff, jerking his whole body to get a grip only to find he was still laying on the pile of furs in Ilyniel's tent. A flush of embarrassment washed over him as he realized his instincts had taken over, making him look a fool.

"You're cute when you sleep." Ilyniel joked. She was off to the side, sipping a steaming morning tea with a soft smile on her face.

That could have been taken as creepy or endearing, and Hyranyr had no idea what direction to go with it so he tried his best to shake it off and focus on something else. "So, uh, you said last night you had plans for me. Do we, you know, get to do that?"

She took a deep, long sip of her tea, letting the steam billow up around her muzzle. "You're so impatient, young Hyranyr. Allow me to fully wake before we talk of plans and the future."

"S-sorry, miss. I didn't realize-"

"Oh, stop being so apologetic, dear! I was kidding. Yes, I have some great plans for you today, but we cannot make them reality here. The boss is giving us a few days more to relax and rest before demanding we return to training for the next mission, so I've decided to take you out to the Ockish Plains, a nice golden yellow meadow far from here, away from prying eyes." She gave him a wink and downed the rest of her tea before tapping him on the tail. "Get ready, we're leaving as soon as possible."

The prospect excited Hyranyr more than he could process, which made his rushed and haphazard preparation for departure even more challenging than it needed to be. He was anxious, curious, and excited in equal measure with a hint of apprehension in the mix giving him doubt. Why would she need to keep this hidden from the others? What sort of plans did she have that required such secrecy? Everyone knew of the things they did together in the past, so what made this different?

These questions swirled around in the dragon's mind, only to be quashed by the positive emotions that Ilyniel was emanating. She seemed sincere, and nearly as excited for what she had planned as Hyranyr had become, and that assuaged his anxiety enough to let him get over his fears and worries. For once in his life, he was purely optimistic with only a sliver of self-doubt.

Both dragons left their building nice and early - so early, in fact, that a cool blanket of fog was still covering the land and obscuring the foothills of the mountains below them - to be on their way to the Ockish Plains. Everyone else at the camp was still asleep aside from the captain, who could be seen sipping his own tea just outside the barracks, ready to wake the recruits. He offered them a tip of his hat to give them his blessings before they disappeared into the fog.

As the morning progressed, the mist dissipated alongside the rising of the sun. Before long, the morning was right and truly upon them and they were so far away from the camp that even Tarenad's keen eyes would not be able to see them. Together, they had made their way to the bottom of the mountain on the south side, far away from the army and far away from their regiment. All the while, Hyranyr struggled to not ask a dozen questions about what she had planned, why they needed to be alone, and why she chose now to take him to this special location.

Instead, they talked about the terrain, her history with the army, how important it was to have a mate in her life, and what she planned on doing after the war. One thing that stuck out to Hyranyr was how intense she got when she mentioned how possessive she could become with her partners. How important it was to her that she have a dragon mate, and how significant it was that dragons not lower themselves to mate with lesser creatures, such as bipeds.

This struck Hyranyr as out of character and more than a little peculiar, but the imminent promise of sex and physical attention allowed him to drown it out. Through the entire trip down the mountain to the Ockish Plains, he had kept his spirits up through the power of arousal and barely held desire. His member remained semi-swollen in his slit, kept inside by sheer force of will and an active need to not embarrass himself in front of Ilyniel.

In a moment of oddness, Ilyniel just stopped next to a lake, in a region with no particular features aside from some scattered, moss-covered boulders and short grass. "We're here." She said, turning to stop Hyranyr from taking another step.

"Wait, what?" Hyranyr balked, unsure of how to respond. "I thought you said you were taking me somewhere beautiful." He glanced around trying his best to find the aesthetics that Ilyniel sought.

She shook her head and leaned into him, pressing her chest to his as her neck wrapped around him. "We're here, and the beauty is not in the landscape, but what it holds. You." Her words made Hyranyr's scales stand on end. "I'm sure you have many questions for me; I can practically feel your curiosity, you know." She then pecked at his shoulder, turning it into a nuzzle and lick.

Hyranyr knew that she was right, yet he stumbled over his own thoughts as he came to realize that she was inviting him to ask. Instead, he gulped and opened his maw to speak, but only a light chirp came out marred by the tightness in his throat and the swelling in his loins that had distracted him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't hear you! That's alright though, I know what you want to ask. You want to know why we're here and what it is that I plan on doing with you that requires so much privacy. Well, I'm somewhat ashamed to admit it, but I'd love to try to pleasure you with a part of my body that many consider to be demeaning." She brushed past him, pushing her haunches up against his shoulder as her tail pushed up into his neck, cradling it as her tail tip brushed by his chin.

His thoughts first went to anal, which was something that shocked him considering he had barely gotten used to the idea of traditional sex, but he didn't feel prepared for that.

She continued, still slithering around him with her long, supple body. "My entourage, they wouldn't respect me as much if I used my tongue on you, for it is dragon tradition to be more traditional. Poor choice of words, I know, but it's true. Did you know that? That it's considered demeaning to orally pleasure one's drake, and even more so to swallow his seed? You're relatively new to our kind, but I'm sure you can understand that."

The drake had a few more questions about why this was such a big deal, and why she felt the need to do this here instead of in the privacy of her barn, but was cut off before he could say a word by her tackling him and forcing him onto his back, pinning him there as she positioned herself over top of him with her tail up high and her vent directly above his snout. She was moist around her opening, the flesh there tender and succulent. Hyranyr still wanted to speak, but found himself entranced by what was before him, his eyes wide and jaw gaping in a whimper.

Ilyniel was relishing her dominant nature as she squatted down and spread her legs, forcing her opening to nearly touch Hyranyr's snout. "Go ahead, sample my scents Hyranyr. The more you do, the faster you'll get hard for me, and I am craving the taste of dragon meat."

Deep down inside, Hyranyr felt that something was off, for Ilyniel was acting far lewder than their previous encounters. Up until that point she had been cordial, composed, and in control, yet now she seemed almost lost in her lust, a victim of her own desires. Regardless, these thoughts couldn't take hold in Hyranyr's mind, as the scent of the dragoness was washing over him, smothering him with a sharp yet fragrant aroma that he assumed to be her estrus. Perhaps that was why she was being so forward with him.

The last wisps of his caution were blown away within seconds of having her pussy hovering above him, and the very moment his reservations left, so did his tact. He immediately pecked forth, nuzzling at her opening as his crotch bucked up, the scales of his slit peeling back to allow his member to swell and emerge directly into Ilyniel's grasp. He barely even noticed when she wrapped her talons around him due to how preoccupied he was by her slit.

He grabbed at her haunches with his front talons to hold her in place as be buried and nuzzled his snout up into her, his tongue slipping betwixt her scales to sample at her fluids, eager to coax more of her lubricants into his open, hungry maw. His sentient thoughts were all but quashed, leaving only a feralistic beast of a dragon hungry for cunt.

Ilyniel was not only impressed with his sudden burst of vigor, but was proud of him for finally coming out of his shell and allowing himself to be the beast that she knew he held within him, trapped behind his insecurities. This enthusiasm needed to be rewarded, and thus she extended her neck so that her tongue could cradle his tip and lap at his tapered shaft, squeezing gently.

Hyranyr's feral instincts were growing more and more intense with each passing moment to the point his ravenous tongue-lashing became a full tongue fucking, with his neck bobbing up and down to thrust his appendage deep inside of her while also writhing like a tentacle and pressing out against her walls like a corkscrew. He paused every few motions to suckle on her lips while flapping his tongue about inside her in an effort to have her burst all over him.

He wasn't sure if it was luck or skill, but before long Ilyniel's body began to tense in his talons, her every muscle clenching as her spine undulated in waves. Her depths quivered and squeezed down as hard as they could against his tongue, followed by an explosive eruption of her feminine ejaculate spraying all over his muzzle and neck.

The drake never paused or stopped his motions, not even as her slimy, silken fluids burst out over him and she released his cock to rear her head in a carnal howl of pleasure. He noticed, for only a moment, that her orgasmic fluid was gooey and slick like cum, but more viscous and a grayer shade than his own seed, which was a pure, opalescent white. He licked at her, sucking and swallowing every bit of her mess that he could, while his own member began to throb and tense up in waves, indicating that he was as near orgasm as her.

Ilyniel caught sight of this and lowered her head again, her body still trembling with the prolonged application of pleasure brought forth by Hyranyr's tongue. Though her orgasmic delight was quite the distraction, she was able to muster enough self-control to take his cock entirely within her maw, her own tongue wrapped around it to squeeze and tug with prehensile precision.

Though Hyranyr had lasted notably longer than their prior encounters, he was still relatively inexperienced and quickly felt his climax build within him, culminating in a burst of thick, copious dragon seed that splashed at the back of her maw, causing her to gag and retch a bit. His own tongue lashing grew erratic within her, the twitchy nature of his muscles triggering a second burst of her ejaculate to soak him, the gooey strands of it dribbling down his chin over his many scales.

A moment passed with both of them tensed up due to their collective, synchronized climaxes, but then the moment passed and they both flopped upon one another in a heap. Ilyniel was having a hard time with the pungent nature of Hyranyr's seed, which was a remnant of his many years without experience and build up, but she still felt obligated to help clean him up, for he remained doing the same by gently lapping at her folds to clean her of her own mess.

Hyranyr's mind slowly regained its composure as he carnal instincts relaxed, having been satisfied. The gentle tingle of his orgasm coursed through his body, and his member remained hyper sensitive to her tongue's touch. With the rescinding ferality of his sexual urges finally leaving his mind, he was able to speak and think properly once again, and with it came his subtle guilt and self-depreciation. "Ilyniel, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to finish so soon, I know you wanted to make me la-"

"Hush, Hyranyr. You did fine." She assured him, talon wrapped around his member to keep it in place as she licked up the last of his seed. "You did more than well enough; two orgasms are twice as much as my highest expectations. You're very, very good with your tongue, you know."

He blushed, casually looking away from under her tail as the heat of embarrassment filled his cheeks and neck.

"But you have to promise me something."

"Anything." He agreed, without inquiring further.

"You have to promise me that as long as you're here with me, in the military, sharing my bed, you'll never spill your seed anywhere but within me, be it maw or vent. I would not want a single drop of your essence to be wasted, do you understand me?"

He nodded, still somewhat buzzing with the residual pleasure of his orgasm, persisted by the overwhelming aroma of her sex.

She gave him another lick. "Under pain of death, you understand; I expect you to not touch tongue or cock to any other dragon or dragoness but me. I will ensure you are kept satisfied, but in turn you must pledge yourself to me. Promise me that." Ilyniel was as serious as could be, but Hyranyr's mind was still fogged by the afterglow of climax.

Which was why he put little more thought in before smiling and nodding. "I promise."