A Mother's Final Lesson
This is a short story commission written for https://www.furaffinity.net/user/rezzek789/ and his mate
Description: With the coming of age of her only son, a dragon mother imparts one final lesson upon her beloved, now sexually mature hatchling.
*A Mother's Final Lesson*
After last night's dream--or nightmare, as the young drake began to consider the erotic dreams involving his adoptive mother--Vralan found it increasingly tedious to focus on anything else aside from the urgency of his departure, especially hunting. It required patience and a well-developed plan, two elements which Vralan sorely lacked while his mind was constantly preoccupied with the countless lies it took to conceal the perverse cravings of his instinct.
Then, there was the ever-constant fear that ceaselessly gnawed at his resolve. Even if Vyra somehow allowed him to venture past the borders of her territory, which dragoness would even take him? The obsidian and ashen colored plates adorning his body emphasized his durability, but that mattered little if he couldn't provide his future family with the basest of their needs.
I could always fish for them, Vralan thought, indulging in compromises his mother loathed with every fiber of her being. In her eyes, such shortcuts were not only shameful, but completely detrimental to a dragon's existence, for if the ponds and rivers dried, he had to rely on his mate's abilities to hunt, a truly deplorable outcome for a male to endure.
Even so, Vralan preferred to find himself at the mercy of a female, or perhaps bond to a male if the former rejected him, so long as it saw him outside of her reach. His heart shrunk to the size of a pebble for even considering this, yet the previous night left him not only completely rattled, but out of time and out of options.
"Until you become a father or hunt your own prey, I expect you to eat all that I give you to replenish your strength for your future attempt," his mother's grave remark broke his musings, his eyes returning to the half-eaten haunch in which he sank his claws halfway, puncturing the spotted hide. Strength...what had strength ever done for him but stoke his yearning for the only thing that he lacked? His mother took great pride in ensuring that not a night went by without meat in his belly, but her diligence turned him complacent, taking away the drive to fully immerse into the thrill of the hunt.
For if he failed, she'd simply provide for him, like she had always done. A most admirable level of dedication, to be sure, if not for Vyra's fixation on the development of his body, his malehood in particular. She often referred to it as a sign of maturity, virility, and a symbol of his might, and now that it began to show more and more often, she never wasted a moment in relishing the satisfaction of grooming him into such a fine specimen.
"You can have it. Flying in circles around a herd and having them scatter before I even make my attempt to descend upon them hardly works an appetite." Vralan pushed it in Vyra's direction, then stuffed his paws under his chest, a habit that he developed during his earlier days to prevent his mother from licking the blood off his pads. Back then, it used to tickle, but now, her attempts to preserve their rituals only served to accentuate his incompetence.
Displeased with his tone and actions, Vyra lifted her snout from one of her blood-caked paws to regard him with that severe look of hers.
"You dive in for the kill too quick, without giving the herd time to believe that you are simply a harmless bird in the sky. Don't let your impatience best you. Instead, consider the time you spend below the clouds an opportunity to single out your future quarry."
Vralan grumbled in acknowledgment, too preoccupied with the worries swimming through his mind to focus on her advice. While undoubtedly helpful, it had nothing to do with his most prevalent of concerns, that of the fire burning deep within his underbelly which coaxed his malehood to grow far more than usual. Vyra seldom spoke of its nature or trigger; instead, she mostly praised him for showing his readiness to mate in the clearest, most revolting of ways. Perhaps females saw the sexual maturity of a male differently, but Vralan despised his erection and everything it represented.
"You are welcome to stay in my territory for as long as you wish, but as a mother, I expect results. Not for my sake, but for yours and that of your future."
"And you shall receive them," Vralan said as he attempted to push himself up, only to remain settled on his belly and growl his irritation at his mother's sharp glare. Her territory, her rules. Debating this point would only lead her closer to the truth, so Vralan submitted to her will by shifting on his haunches to ready himself for their mutual grooming session.
"We'll start with you," Vyra said as she sat herself beside him, her lithe, graceful form reaching below his shoulder, now that Vralan reached adulthood. "You can return that favor after I finish off the meal originally intended for my son."
That was what she said, but her long stare hinted at a more sinister ploy. Her snout met his without the slightest hesitation, the smooth, tapered tongue poking past her pointy, angular jaws lapping the blood off his scales quickly and efficiently. She had done this more than a hundred times, and as a hatchling, Vralan always looked forward to their mutual grooming.
As an adult, however, her once comforting tongue made him flinch and shift uneasily, for it carried more than her unbridled affection and devotion, especially when she often insisted on the tip of his snout, a place reserved only for mates.
"They showed up faster than expected," she immediately took note of his emerging members, an exotic sight to a dragoness mated to a male who only possessed one of them. Worse than her interest in them was her perception of his malehood, considering it just another part of his body, such as his paws or tail, and treating it with the same casualness. What she didn't understand was the taut warmth constrained within their core, or the tingles engulfing his plump, loose and relaxed sack which always caused it to stiffen. It took deep, calculated breaths to keep the ridges lining the base of his members from hardening, for if they did, Vralan's heart would start to race, and that ominous, stinging pressure would well within his underbelly, ready to erupt.
"You grew into such a strong and capable male. Now all you have to do is decide what to do with said strength," his mother said as she nuzzled the side of his neck, her eyes following the soft throbs traversing his spires.
He had always believed this part as a youngling, when the hardness was brief and his throbs few and barely noticeable. His malehood showed up every now and then, but they began to fully leave their enclosure a few months back, when his ridges swelled for the first time, and the spaded tip of both of his cocks bloated with a mystifying fire which addled his thoughts. It happened at night, while he stared under Mother's tail and pondered on his first mating lesson. The intensity of a male's love for a female, be it their mother or mate, is often revealed by the state of his malehood, she used to say. The bigger and harder he grew, the more flattered females would feel by that sheer display of affection and devotion.
So, from that moment onward, Vralan never hid that utmost proof of fondness for his mother, but neither did he flaunt it. He had simply accepted it as what his mother had taught him, and to this day, he felt no need to conceal this fundamental truth from her.
What he could no longer deny, however, was the horrifying sensitivity of his cocks, prone to twitch and bob whenever they made contact with any surface, pleasant or otherwise. Even now, with his sack squeezed between his haunches and the bottom of his inferior shaft leaned against the rough scutes of a hind paw, discomfort paled in comparison to the sheer tightness of his engorged meat, the subtle veins webbing across their surface pulsing with a purpose all too foreign to him.
"It is you who decides everything, Mother," Vralan plucked the truth from a corner of his mind and hurled it into the open. "What does my strength accomplish when it is always summed up into how long and tight my malehood grows?"
Vyra giggled softly at his impulsiveness, her lick across his nape slow and comforting. "That is but one of many ways to gauge the potential of a male. You already know that, just like you are perfectly aware that you are unlike any other male in this region."
Mother always emphasized the particularity of his malehood over the stark contrast between their coloring, or the almost impenetrable plates donning his body. Perhaps it was because darker colored dragons existed in these parts, protected by equally efficient armor. Yet, to his knowledge, none of them had two cocks housed in their genital slit, nor a sack heavy with fruit dangling beneath it. She had every reason to be fascinated with his features, but that didn't stop Vralan from growling his irritation with that obvious vulnerability.
"They are a clear sign of weakness, mother. Every time you or I lay our pads upon them, they twitch and tense, and my body grows suddenly stiff with a breath that I can't expel."
"That is because you are only supposed to shelter them inside a female. Your body knows that, so it is only natural that it rebels against the mistake you are about to do," she explained for the countless time, as if her lessons hadn't already sunk deep inside his head.
Never stroke them, for your paw pads are grimy and a single scratch on their vulnerable surface can visit great infection upon them. Never lick them, for his bottled strength would flow out of him, and no female ever takes a male that cannot wrestle them into submission. Never thrust them inside any orifice but that of a female, for that was their true purpose.
All in all, Vralan could do naught but endure through their constant harassment and pretend that he still believed in all of Mother's lessons. But not anymore. Not after the previous night, when he dreamt of putting himself inside her, which caused him to leak a thin stream of his strength in the form of a soft smelling, clear liquid. She called it a cleanser, claiming that his body would ooze it every now and then to keep his malehood free from impurities and to coat it in a protective layer. Were it not for his dream, he would have believed her, but every time he dreamt of mating, the cleanser oozed from his cock tips, followed by that molten pressure which he barely held back.
Oh, how he wished to share his concerns with her; to help her understand that keeping his strength contained within his body became more and more demanding, just like his dreams turned all the more crude. Yet he couldn't, for she might consider him weak of mind and frail of body, and thus keep him locked within her territory for even longer.
Pleased with his moment of introspection, Vyra's tongue resumed its duty, reaching behind his right leg to lick at a speckle of blood that soiled the scales adorning the lower part of his flank. Softer and far more receptive than his plates, they conducted the pleasant and moist warmth of her tongue straight through, triggering an invigorating shudder through Vralan that flared his senses and perked his cocks to awareness.
They were always so quick to react in spite of all of his intentions to keep them subdued. Wondering about his father diminished their fire, yet it never fully snuffed it out. Channeling his ire at his mother's unnecessary kindness with his failures only served to get his heart racing and pump even more blood down below. Worst of all, he couldn't even dream of a life beyond their territory anymore, for once the ridges adorning the base of his cocks swelled, all that Vralan craved for was a female to pour his frustrations into.
Or so his mother claimed, for nothing else could hope to diminish the burden welled within his sack.
"You should cherish your newfound strength instead of rejecting it," Vyra noted while her snout traveled to the upper portion of a haunch where he accidentally smeared himself with the doe's blood. "With it, new opportunities arise."
Vralan shifted his hind leg to the side to grant her better access, as well as revealing the entirety of his gender to her warm, contemplative cerulean eyes. She did not linger on them; instead, she stuck to the ceremonial grooming, sparing them only a few glances in passing, as if suddenly indifferent to his plight.
It took all of Vralan's patience to keep himself rooted in place and to resist the temptation of reaching for one of his shafts with his forepaw. He didn't care that his claws might wound him, so long as the soft, dark grey pads lining his feet could coax his liquid might out of him. It was a blood chilling, almost terrifying thought, attenuated solely by the chance to show his mother that whatever resided within him, it would not match her expectations when poured out into the open. She was a female. She just couldn't understand what it took to fight back his instinct; not when her kind simply stood still while the males did all the work.
"Did your mate's inner strength grant you the opportunities you anticipated?"
Vyra ceased her doings to shift onto her haunches beside him, regarding him not with puzzlement or irritation at bringing up the past, but compassion.
"It's not enough for a male to pour himself into a female to conceive young ones. She must also be ready to receive him. What comes out of a male is the very essence of his body, his unbridled affection manifested into what is commonly referred to as seed. Just like its namesake, it takes root inside the female, but for that to happen, it requires fertile soil to sprout on. Prior to our first heat, seed cannot find purchase, regardless of the male's efforts to make it happen."
Seed. She never referred to it as such, and neither had she revealed its purpose beyond the bond it established between dragons. Vyra noticed that too, becoming suddenly agitated with her lapse in judgment.
"That is irrelevant. Concern yourself not with the other names and purposes your essence takes, for the foremost one that I taught you carries the most crucial of meanings."
Although he tried to smother his growl, Vralan's impatience rumbled within his neck, mirroring the storm brewing within him. His so called essence did nothing but disturb his rest by filling his dreams with scenarios conceived by his mother, and their titillating nature also coaxed cleanser out of him. And so, every morning since he reached adulthood per his mother's words, Vralan roused to a soiled belly and impossibly hard, aching cocks, engulfed in the scent of utter disgrace.
If only he could get Vyra to agree with him...Instead, his mother considered his nocturnal emissions to be a clear indication of his readiness to finally fulfill a male's obligations. She called the throbs rushing through his shafts the sparks of his inner might, a vast, unbridled force that dwelled deep within him, one that he had to keep contained at all costs. True, it did keep him giddy with anticipation at making use of it, yet without his mother's leave to flee her territory, all that Vralan yearned for these days was to rid himself of this maddening burden through any means available to him.
Vralan didn't contest her vast knowledge on this matter. Instead, he shifted onto his fours slowly to avoid grinding his cocks against one another and force the top one to slap against his belly. Regardless of his planned, elaborate movements, the rearmost ridges touched one another, the jolting spark causing his sack to jerk and tighten and his upper shaft to slam against the dry, hard plates covering his lower belly.
Vyra's forepaw immediately reached for his malehood, ready to protect that prized possession of his, but the grime marring her pads prevented her from doing that. Her lips pursed in veiled irritation at her lack of foresight, tail tip swishing back and forth.
"They are mine, mother, not yours," Vralan said, already aware of the exact advice dwelling on her tongue. "It is I who shall be shunned by every female for being incapable of performing my duties. I who will deeply regret this mistake. I who may never experience the release that comes with the merging of two dragons during the ritual of mateship."
He wanted to pour more of his frustrations out into the open, but the debris sticking to Vyra's moist nethers cut him off. She had never allowed him to clean her down there. For the past few weeks, she even denied him the chance to lick as much as a droplet of blood off her jaw, always invoking the excuse that it was a mother's responsibility to care for her hatchling, but not the other way around, as she had learned how to clean herself long before he hatched. Vralan had always considered that to be a matter of pride until now, when a new perspective dawned upon him.
Vyra had always put his needs ahead of hers, always making sure that he never spent a day or night without meat in his belly. Her obsession with grooming only extended to him, and whenever a solitary dragon would cross the boundaries of her territory, she would always request that Vralan remained in their lair, away from possible danger. Her meticulousness used to bother Vralan a great deal, as did her completely unreasonable demands which kept his scales and plates absent marring, and his claws sharp and without any signs of wearing.
Now, however, the more he glanced at her blood caked paws and jaws, the more aware he became of what he meant for her. The very state of her genitalia acted as living proof of that, for it showed that, no matter her discomfort with the first signs of heat leaking out of her, it would always come second to his malehood and, implicitly, to him.
Vyra let out a great sigh as he settled onto her belly, her spread wing preventing him from doing the same. "Not until they go back in."
Vralan nodded absently, grateful for her quick thinking. He grew so preoccupied with the deciphering of his mother, that the overlooked the tightness of his shafts, as well as the occasional throb that still kept them alert.
"When your turn will come to raise hatchlings, everything that I do is going to seem far more natural. You will have mated by then; experienced sensations and emotions that cannot accurately be put into words. So, when your sons and daughters grow up and show signs of maturity, you will be overtaken with this burning need to ensure that their first union with the opposite gender is going to be perfect. You will wish with every fiber of your being to ensure that they are perfect, for they will undoubtedly be your biggest source of pride."
Warm tingles blossomed within Vralan's belly. They dispersed through his spine and hide in the form of soft shudders, calm and peaceful, soothing his agitated mind and tense frame. Bolstered by her words, Vralan shifted closer to his mother, intent on proving his affection to her, just like she did earlier.
As soon as his snout approached hers, however, the delectable scent wafting from her underbelly grew in sharpness and pungency, setting his nostrils aflame with that perverse, unnatural desire that plagued his dreams.
He drew back as slowly and quietly as he could manage, his faint snarl indicating the reason for abandoning his train of thought.
"Don't let that stop you," his mother urged, her wing settling over his shoulders, pulling him closer to her. "The moistness clinging to my scales bothers me just as much as the hardness of your cocks troubles you, but the only way to grow used to it is to take it in rather than reject it. Such is the way of our instinct."
"Rrrrrh," Vralan's neck thrummed with pent-up annoyance at being forced to not only put up, but accept the whims of his body. Still, Vyra defied her condition without as much as a complaint, so her resolve inspired him to at least attempt to resist his urge as well by settling on his haunches beside her forepaws, his jutting cocks less than a foreleg away from her calm, calculated eyes. She never minded their presence, so perhaps the way to mental peace was to stop fretting about their peculiar behavior as well.
"It's not their aspect or their number that fascinates me, my son," Vyra said, tenderly nuzzling at his haunch, once again alleviating some of the concerns circling his thoughts. "They used to intrigue me, yes, for my mate had but one, and no sack to house the conspicuous proof of the gender you so openly display. Used to tease him about his soft scales and angular, elegant features, and in return, he threatened to abandon me and seduce a male instead. It wouldn't have worked for him, of course, but we both enjoyed ridiculing each other's features. It made us all the more special in each other's eyes."
The young male pawed at the dirt, ill at ease with this topic. Curiosity nudged him to explore her sex as well, but unlike Vyra, he always refrained from doing that, for she was his mother, and him, her son. If she shared the same mindset, this wouldn't have weighed so hard on him, but every time she referred to his members, Vyra unintentionally brought back her deceased mate, never ceasing to compare him to Vralan.
"He should have been the one to teach you about the responsibilities of your gender, not me. Not a female who had been too absorbed in the sheer delight of our union to learn about the particularities of his needs and impulses..."
This time, Vralan offered her no comforting platitudes, allowing thick, unnerving silence to descend upon them. Vyra's paw found his first, her pink pads kneading at the scutes protecting the upper portion of his toes, earnest satisfaction blossoming in her cerulean eyes.
"I tried to fill the gaps to the best of my abilities, yet some of them still linger to this day, unresolved matters that constantly remind me of my limitations." She paused to look at the sky, searching for relief that wouldn't come.
It was then that Vralan settled his free paw on top of hers, stroking her encouragingly. "You are a better dragon than me in every regard, and a far more patient one as well. If it wasn't for your teachings, I would have undoubtedly wounded myself down there while searching for a poor substitute compared to what the union with a female offers."
Her smile warmed his frigid hide, pushing back the nefarious doubts gnawing at his heart. "And that is the reason you should heed your heart over your instinct. Our desires provide us with lofty goals to aspire to, yet they seldom grant us the right way to achieve them. Like you, my maddening yearn to no longer be alone saw me under the wing of a most caring male, but we have both disregarded the perils encroaching upon our territory, and our hubris prevented us from doing the right thing. A lesson in humility for which he paid for with his life..."
Her mournful croon rattled Vralan down to his very bones. Vyra seldom spoke of her mate, of the reasons and circumstances that brought the both of them here. He never pressed her for the truth, for the fear of the unknown perils lurking beyond her territory chilled him more than the icy gusts of early winter blowing from the east.
He spread his wing over her lithe form, a grey, dreary shroud cast over her resplendent hide. The smaller female immediately snuggled against his side, her satisfied purr mingling with the storm brewing in his chest.
"They will shrink and flee into their den soon enough. They always do."
Vralan smothered his growing irritation aimed at her sheer fascination with his genitalia, intent on finding out whether she wished, for the first time, to talk about her instead of him. He prompted her to do so with a nuzzle, rubbing his nostrils against hers, the slate-colored horn tipping his muzzle tempting the female to bite at it playfully.
"My mother often warned me that youth is a dragon's greatest enemy," she said after lowering her head against his chest, chin rested on top of his forepaws. "I wished to prove her wrong. To amass all the experience she said I lacked. What danger could humans pose to us, after all? Most can't even climb a tree, let alone threaten our rule over the skies. And so, my recklessness led me down a path paved with more mistakes than any dragon has the right to make."
Her solemn sigh stilled Vralan's breath. But for the soft rustle of their scales and wings swishing against one another, the two dragons lied perfectly still, until Vyra's forepaws converged upon his right one, holding onto it tightly, as if the Everstorm itself threatened to rip her apart from him.
"Is it any wonder, that I happened upon your egg while seeking to fill the emptiness growing within me with the blood of those who stole all that I held dear? It wasn't vengeance that drove me to track and burn this foulest of prey, but a keen desire to prevent them from inflicting the same misery upon the rest of our kind."
Her eyes drifted towards him, the short, dainty claws tipping her paws digging harder against his scutes as the memories of those terrible times returned to haunt her. "You were nothing but food to those bloodsoaked barbarians hailing from the southern marshes. They have slain the group meant to enslave you, all so that they could steal everything they carried, your egg included. The ironclad humans would have undoubtedly used their magic to bind your will to their whims, but these savages...they saw a meal, not a living being, and that is what made my ambush particularly efficient."
Vralan swallowed what little moisture dwelled in his maw to wet his parched throat, dried by the nerves rushing through him. The smoothness present in Vyra's words terrified him, for she spoke of a massacre with utmost ease, unmoved by her doing. He had only heard fragments of this story before, and they all depicted her valiant efforts to rescue him from the clutch of primitives. Now, the truth was no longer clear. If these barbarians lacked the proper tools and weapons to challenge their way out of their marshes, then they posed no threat to the extremely durable shell of a dragon's egg. The tales of how they ate their enemies also hinted at much easier options to fill their starving guts than to break his egg and feed but a few individuals in their party.
"With your egg now under my care, I expected remnants from my old life to return to me, for dreams to reemerge from under the blanket of grief that had smothered them. At first, the mere shape of your egg provided comfort to me, but as more nights passed, its size grew bothersome, and the grey, foreboding ripples adorning its shell discomforting. They reminded me of the storm still raging within me, a cold darkness that might sweep you away if left unchecked."
Vyra's features hardened. Soft, barely perceptible wrinkles formed along her lips, threatening to bloom into a snarl undoubtedly aimed at her own nefarious doubts.
"You weren't mine, Vralan, and no matter how hard I tried to put that fact at the back of my mind, it never truly stayed there. Everything about your egg reminded me of the opportunity that I've missed rather than fill me with hope and gratitude at the end of a long string of suffering. During one such moment of distraction, a basilisk snuck into my lair and somehow reached the alcove in which I placed your egg while hunting. It took an actual threat to your existence to convince me to become a mother, for the desperation I've felt in that moment stung deeper than even the death of my beloved mate."
For a short, tension-filled moment, she did nothing but absently stare at the ground, her claws, tail, wings and eyelids completely still. Then, just before Vralan had the opportunity to lean his head against her neck, she blinked and turned her head to face him, favoring him a wan smile.
"Youth has truly been my greatest enemy. So many mistakes in such a short timespan..."
"Mrrrrh," Vralan comforted her with his deep purr that she often spent hours listening to. His wing pressed tighter against her slender frame as he lowered his head to rub his cheek against her throat like he used to do as a hatchling.
"Rrrrrih," she thrummed appreciatively, her paws latching on the sides of his neck, caressing the sensitive area where his plates interwove.
"I've left everything behind, and have carried you beyond the reach of any human. Little did I know that, in my intent to protect you, I'd seclude you from your very kin, but that mattered little at the time. Unlike me, you understood the necessity of lingering within our lair from your very first days. I had to drag you outside by the tail to show you that no predators lurked nearby, that no human scent permeated the air, that you were completely safe."
She twisted her neck so that her eyes bore into his. "That was--and still is--my most prevalent concern, for there is nothing that I cannot offer you."
Vralan poked his forked tongue out to drag each of the two ends across each of her nostrils, poking at their insides to tickle her. After all this time, Vyra still snorted and retreated her head as if bitten, ever surprised by his treachery.
"The freedom to venture past the boundaries of your territory is one of them," Vralan said, now that he helped his mother snap out of her incursion into the past.
"Mreh," she growled at him to dismiss this foolishness while licking her snout one too many times to dispel the itch. "Were you a parent, would you trust the word of your hatchlings to accomplish all the things they couldn't while under your care? When, if something goes wrong, you can still intervene and make it right?"
He expected that, so he nuzzled the base of her throat and dragged his snout behind one of her ears to lick at the soft, leathery tissue there. "I cannot hunt, but I can fish, and if the need for combat arises, I will either fight a smaller opponent or flee a bigger, more experienced one. There are alternatives, mother, but you never consider them."
"And that is solely because my son doesn't know how to hunt, fight, or even mate."
Vralan's tongue froze upon her ear, his pride gravely wounded by that arrogant remark. Nevertheless, he shrugged it off like an errant leaf settled on his wing, if only to maintain Vyra's musical purr strong and steady.
"You are a fine male in every regard, but as of now, you are simply...unprepared to leave my side," she spoke with low, hushed words, her tail coiling around her haunches so that her elongated fins covered any sign of her femininity. That only served to confirm Vralan's suspicion, that she was as susceptible to his licks as he was.
"I can learn the two on my own, but the third...I cannot...not with my paws, or tongue. Not without a female's guidance," he added in between his licks, each shorter and more hesitant than the last, now that Vyra's purr amplified beyond its usual hue.
"I am pleased to hear that." She elegantly wove her head past the reach of his tongue so that she could rub it against his strong chest. "Your malehood is your legacy, my son. No risk should ever come to it, especially not from yourself. A female's insides are silky and moist, the perfect sanctuary for a weary male to find the release he desperately craves for."
Every muscle in Vralan's body shuddered from the intensity of her words, from the alluring way in which she expressed a fact well known to Vralan by now, but never experienced. He drew in a deep breath to lessen the pounding of his heart and the tightness of his cocks, but self-control alone couldn't completely hide the obvious truth from Vyra's contemplative gaze.
"My mate used to be the same. All courage, no tact. Desire long contained clouded his mind, rendering him prone to foolish acts, if only to rid himself of that nefarious lust that had worn him thin. I first had to drain all that pent-up seed from him before our romance began, otherwise he would have forever gauged me as a female, and not as his mate."
Vyra slowly rose to her feet, her purr deepening as her forepaws alighted upon his back, gently pushing at Vralan suggestively. Caught in the thrill of the moment, he obeyed her instructions, the young male licking his muzzle nervously as he surrendered his belly to her. He suspected her ploy, but his naivety prohibited him from acknowledging it. Not her. Never her. She was not only his mother, but his teacher, so whatever she had in mind involved a way to finally soothe that which had consumed Vralan for too long.
"My ambition has clouded my judgment, leading me to believe that, somehow, you will find your own way. But how could you, when it was I who failed to give you proper guidance?"
The soft, pink pads of her toes caressed at the insides of his haunches, spreading them to the sides so that his malehood stood fully exposed to her. "This is simply another lesson, my son, one which I have delayed for far too long."
"Nhhhhrhhhh," Vralan half growled, half whined from the ticklish sensation of the pebbly scales donning her snout that rubbed against the smooth, leathery surface of his sack. All it took was a soft, barely perceptible nudge against one of his heavy spheres for a jolting spasm to traverse his cocks, forcing them to spit out two droplets of cleanser from each tip.
Vralan's hind paws lashed at her shoulders, grabbing onto them for support as he squeezed his eyes shut to hold back the tide welling within the rock-hard ridges lining the base of his cocks. She didn't understand how much focus it required to keep himself together, or how detrimental her licks across his plump sack were. The slick caress of her slimy serpent only served to make his bloated malehood churn and shudder from the prospect of impending release, a reaction that, in her ignorance, she considered to be of positive nature. He would have pointed otherwise, had he the strength to do so, but the constant growl simmering in his throat robbed away that chance from him.
Blessedly, Vyra stopped just in the nick of time, her nostrils blowing hot gusts of air upon the leathery surface of his ballsack as she continued to stare at the fruit nestled within reverently.
"A male's first release is always the strongest. The fulness of your pouch empties in rapid, mind-addling spurts, each of them amplifying the state of utter bliss you'll find yourself trapped in. it is a great and terrible moment for me to steal away your first ejaculation, to fill a womb that will most likely not quicken with all that great load you've amassed."
In his strained state, Vralan failed to grasp the meaning of her words aside from the part where she mentioned release. His throbbing cocks gave him no respite, and the pounding of his temples made it impossible for him to think of any other things but the urgency to free himself of this immense burden.
"Rrrrrrihhhh," he whined while his hind paws kneaded at Vyra's shoulders pleadingly, his tail coiling around her neck and tugging at it to prompt her to follow through with her plan.
She hesitated at first, her uncertain gaze dancing between him and his cocks, her maw opening to deliver words that never came. When her silver tongue failed her, Vyra relented to her son's persuasion, grabbing each of his hind paws in her maw to guide them away in order to make room for her body to sail on top of his.
"Keep your eyes closed at all times, for you only need to feel, not see," she said before touching her snout against his, her purr bright and full of passion. Enthralled by the closeness of their bodies, as well as the thickening scent wafting from her soggy underbelly scales, Vralan stared at his mother with wide eyes, frozen in time by the onrush of emotions cascading through him.
Vyra's amused warble made his heart flutter, and the tongue that drifted across his eyes to urge them to shut melted some of the ice that encased his senses, for it reminded him that Vyra was more than a dragon, more than a female on the cusp of her first heat.
She was a mother. His mother. The same creature who soothed away his fears since his very first days as a hatchling with the same tongue that now beseeched him to trust her just one more time.
It was now Vralan's turn to surrender to her reassurance, the mystery of her plan delightful and terrifying at the same time. The darkness of his shuttered eyes amplified the young drake's impatience now that Vyra's tongue fled him. He could feel her legs shifting against his sides, but other than that, nothing else happened.
Until, all of a sudden, something grinded against one of his cocks, a silken, soggy surface that forced every muscle in Vralan's body to knot from the sheer overwhelm of being caressed down there for the first time. It wasn't the intense warmth emanating from her heat-stricken flesh that stole Vralan's breath away, but the abundant slickness that forced the head of his bottom cock to slip into her far too sudden for his virgin, unprepared senses. Whatever instinctive vocalization his body wanted to utter remain blocked in the back of his throat as the young male found himself entrapped from all sides by tight, ridged, silky walls. She molded around him perfectly, holding his most sensitive organ in a snug embrace that threatened to unravel the very control he held over his body.
Nothing he had ever felt came close to the fulfillment of being inside a female, to feel the tremors wracking her flesh seep into his own rock-hard meat, and for his throbs to finally be contained. His other cock jolted and swung erratically, poking at the tip of her lips and at the scales surrounding her femininity in its desperate attempts to find purchase, its struggles contrasting with the stillness of his second cock whose ridges flared to their very limit.
Vralan's heart hammered at his throat and chest, its beats so loud and intense the young male felt almost nauseous due to nerves. Every dream and scenario he had conceived in anticipation for this moment paled in comparison to this feeling of utter unrestraint, where all the control he held was relinquished to the dragoness who had complete dominion over the most prized part of his body.
His breaths came in short, ragged, panicked bursts as Vyra tried her best in securing his other shaft within her by rocking her body back and forth, aiming and then thrusting her pussy at it to receive it inside her, but Vralan's cocks already swelled to the brink with his seed, the spade-shaped tips too broad to fit her simultaneously. Still, she refused to give up, the constant pushes against Vralan's already hilted cock stilling his frame in anticipation of traveling deeper inside her, only for that promise to be torn from him when she almost lifted herself off him, with only her folds to still caress his taut malehood.
Something snapped inside Vralan in that moment, a desperation that claimed every fiber of his being. His haunches pressed tighter against her smaller ones, and his forepaws seized her sides right under her wings, pressing down hard against her while his hindquarters bucked to shove his cock deeper inside her. The sudden, unexpected motion caused his eyes to bulge in both panic and surprise, a sentiment that Vyra also shared.
Recognizing that her son teetered on the edge of climax, the dragoness abandoned her quest to shelter both cocks inside her, pushing down on his already entrapped one until his ridges plopped into her one by one. Every time they did, a frail whimper escaped her, joined in by Vralan's thin, barely perceptible yelps.
The whole world shrunk around him, reduced only to the molten pressure slithering through his cocks, pooling up at the base of his tips, ready to explode at a moment's notice. He could've let go. Should have let go, but for a bizarre reason, he attempted to hold it back. He resisted it by clenching his toes so hard his claws bit into his soft pads, drawing a speckle of blood. His jaws slammed against each other, his twitching lips slowly contorting into a snarl laden with all the lust and frustration he harbored.
He might have been able to ride out this terribly delightful storm if Vyra remained content with keeping him sheltered inside her, but the dragoness' tongue dragged over the top of his snout, disarming his focus, rendering him vulnerable to the gentle rocking of her hindquarters. At the same time, she brought a saliva-smeared forepaw down upon his naked member, clutching it between her pads, shifting her paw up and down his tip to further weaken his futile resistance.
With both of his cocks stimulated beyond the limits of his comprehension, the young male's head swirled from the potency of that almighty pleasure. Soft squelches accompanied the entrance of every ridge into the depths of Vyra's body, her fevered lips coating the entirety of his shaft in their intoxicating juices while her muscles groped and squeezed at him relentlessly. Her paw mirrored that kneading motion, sticking right on top of his infuriatingly sensitive member, the softness of her pads amplified by the film of saliva coating them.
Driven to the brink of his sanity by the overpowering pressure gathered within his cocks, Vralan relinquished the feeble control he held over his inner might, allowing it to explode right out of him. His head swung back from the might of the first burst, jaws hanging open to let out a cry that failed to come. His body never felt so taut, unresponsive, with his paws and tail jerking out of their own accord while his molten essence brutally fled it through rapid, sudden, repeating spurts. He had no control over the quantity of seed that his cocks spat, and neither could he calm the spasms wracking his twin shafts. It all felt so surreal, so outlandish, and so incredibly satisfying.
The seconds it took to spend himself stretched into infinity under Vyra's guidance, her pads and sex directly influencing the flow of seed. She squeezed him in unison with his throbs and released him right after, thus maximizing the overwhelming euphoria settled over the young male. Towards the end, when the jolts traversing his cocks began to subside, she pushed her pussy tight against him, squeezing his balls and ridges for several delayed lances of thick, pent-up cream. Her paw did the same, switching over to his ridges to stimulate them while his tip spewed his batter wherever it pleased.
When his senses finally returned to him, the first thing Vralan did was gasp for breath and blink back the tears of exertion that welled in the corners of his eyes, his vision blurry and unfocused. Everything felt stiff and slow now that his inner might was expended, the scent of their mating weighing the air around them with an earthy, heavy odor.
"Keep your eyes closed and rest," Vyra urged, settling her clean paw over his face to prevent him from facing the outcome of what transpired. "It is customary that the male rests in the embrace of his mate after spending himself for the first time.
"You're not my mate," Vralan would have said, had he the strength to do so. Vyra further ensured to keep him silent by fitting his other cock inside her, now that his spaded tips began to deflate, her silky insides pulsing with such comforting warmth that Vralan found it impossible to resist her.
THE END
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