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Chapter description: Knowing the humans better than his mate, Surodar strikes a bargain with them in the hopes of extending their stay on their lands despite the clock that is ticking on his dragon transformation spell.

All the characters featured in this story are original characters that I have specifically created for the purpose of the story.

***A (Fe)male dragon's woes chapter 3: The Promise***

They stopped in front of Trader's Gate, where Garen sent one of the guards to fetch them a full escort.

"Town's policy, dragon. Nothing more, nothing less," he said, leaning against the stone frame of the gate, behind a bulky guardsman who tried his best to stand still and look ahead, but failing at it quite spectacularly.

"Kreorg, loosen up." Garen gave his plated butt a kick, hard enough to make it rattle and the guard to grunt and stumble forward. Fortunately for him, he had his spear to help him readjust his balance. "You act like this golden one is the first dragon you've seen."

"It is, sergeant," he said, his voice hoarse from fright.

"It's a he, actually. Called--" he looked towards Surodar. "How do they call you?"

"Surodar," the dragon responded, shifting his paws uneasily.

That caught Garen's attention. "Oh, lift one of your paws. Go ahead, Kreorg, touch his paw pads. See how soft they are for yourself. Like a puppy's. Only, this one's a fire-breathing winged puppy that will slay the bandit scum that plagues the countryside."

Surodar settled on his haunches, offering a forepaw to the reluctant guard, looking left, towards the forest. While Kreorg worked his fingers around his toe pads and squeezed the claws out of their sheaths, Surodar's mind wandered back to Sarathra and her mysterious departure. Where did she go? Why? And how was he supposed to find her?

Garen chuckled in that raspy way of his as Surodar began to purr from the lavish attention the guard paid to his foot, slapping Kreorg's shoulder plates, pushing him away. "That's enough. Gods be damned man, you don't want to give him a foot massage now."

The sergeant's rough hands slid under Surodar's paw as well, his callused fingers groping at his light colored toes, squeezing them softly. "You're a curious fellow, aren't ya? Soft temper, just like your paws. Makes me wonder if you're not a spellcrafter yourself."

A chill ran down Surodar's spine, his toes curling inwards, claws poking halfway out of their sheath, pricking at the skin on Garen's wrist. Even then, the sergeant ignored the discomfort, switching towards his broad heel pad to caress it.

Surodar shook his paw free of his grip, earning another of those gruff chortles. "Ticklish, eh?"

"I'm not a spellcrafter. No human in their right mind would turn into a dragon for the purpose of mating with one."

"You're not wrong, Surodar. But you're not right either. Spellcrafters are a peculiar sort. They live at the fringe of civilization, taking commissions from people like me, willing to turn into a rat for the sake of a contract. But that's a talk for another time," he said, stepping in front of the gate to signal the five guards to form a rough circle around Surodar. They were the no talk, all business type, grumpy and silent, assuming their position without uttering a word.

"Walk at a stroll, Surodar. Keep your wings to yourself, and no growls, roars, or any loud sounds. The Trader's Gate is the closest to the town hall, so it's only a short walk."

Karad's Rest. A town that Naya had never imagined herself walking through as a dragon. Her paw pads produced soft, silent squelches upon contact with its cobbled roads, and the stone buildings, with their tiled roofs built of red clay, seemed smaller than before. Most of the citizens paused to stare at her, some with mouths gaped open, others through narrow eyes, darkened by frowns. Their awe proved to be short lived, for Karad's Rest had had other dragons as protectors in the past, during a time when spellcrafters belonged in the courts of kings, a rare commodity.

The children were the most excited and vocal bunch. Packs of tiny, giggling humans formed around Surodar's retinue, pointing and shouting their questions at him.

"Are you mean?"

"Have you killed humans?"

"Where do you come from?"

"Can you fly me?"

The guards--bless their ugly helmets--kept them at bay, protecting Surodar from the overly energetic, loud, tiny humans. They kept his limbs tense, their squeaky voice making him shudder due to their intensity. They couldn't know it, but during his walk, Surodar was more scared of the kids than they were of him. What if, somehow, he accidentally trampled one? Or buffeted his wings and smashed them against the passing buildings? This body still had its quirks, and Naya hadn't mastered them all in the few days she spent in it.

The mayor, a pudgy man with a barrel for a gut and bald as an egg, awaited before the steps of the town hall, enclosed within the tall walls that surrounded the circular courtyard. He wore the red and black robes of Karad's Rest, his long sleeves threaded with silver runes, the cuffs marred with food stains. After all, his fingers didn't gain the look of plump sausages over one night. Two paladins flanked him, the envoys of the High Cleric, meant to remind him to pay his taxes rather than protect him.

"On your haunches, dragon," he said, his voice quivering in unison with his jowls when he stepped forward to handle the papers and ink he brought with him to Garen. "Is it only you?"

"There's two of them. The black one that we can't get rid of, and Surodar, the one sitting before your excellency," Garen said.

"Then go and fill in the papers. Can't expect the boys to haul my desk over just for a single dragon."

Right. As if he had other noble beasts seek his protection.

"You five, scatter," the mayor said to Surodar's escort. "He'll fly off once we're done, won't you dragon?"

Surodar nodded, but the mayor must have disliked something, for he stepped in front of him and snapped his fingers to force Surodar's green eyes upon that melon of a face. "Don't nod, talk. It's a binding contract, which means it binds you to us. I won't have you nodding your way through it, and then rain fire upon our town because the clauses displease you. Bratvard, do I have to be here for this? Isn't this all about smearing his paw in ink, getting his stamp, putting the official seal beside it and all that?"

"The law requires you, the mayor, to read the clauses out loud and the dragon to abide by every single one," one of the paladins replied from the bottom of his winged, golden helmet.

"Oh, very well. Go fetch Garen then. This is already taking longer than I expected." The mayor kept shuffling his hands under the confines of his sleeves; he kept tapping his foot, looking this way and that.

"Do I unnerve you?" Surodar asked, and the mayor scoffed.

"Grow ten times in size, sprout three pairs of horns, and have strong enough magic to obliterate my city with a spell. Then yes, you'd unnerve me." He stepped closer to Surodar, forcing the dragon to curl his head back a little, lest that gnarled nose bumped into his snout.

"I've trade routes to build. Alliances to organize. But I can't do that if bandits run rampant through the countryside. I need you, and your mate, and your hatchlings when you'll have them, to be our mercenaries. Is the reason I'm out here, sweating my guts out in this ridiculous robe."

A mercenary? But Garen said--he didn't mention any--

"Mayor!" one of the paladins called, pointing towards Garen, who returned with two clerks to help him carry the required documents, along with a blank vellum thick and wide enough for Surodar's paw print.

"Fine, let's get on with this." The mayor accepted a pair of ornate glasses from a clerk, unfurled a scroll, and began reading, giving Surodar no moment to think whether he did right or wrong in saying yes to the mountain of clauses that followed.

"Wonderful," the mayor said at the end, motioning one of the clerks to lay down the empty vellum before Surodar. "Now lift your paw. Let them smear it with ink, and then give the vellum a good stomping. Do that twice, for you and your mate. We'll assume that mated dragons speak on each other's behalf and all that."

After Surodar followed through the mayor's instructions, him and his paladins entered the town hall to complete the remaining formalities, leaving Surodar alone with Garen, who had to wait for the ink to dry upon the vellum's surface.

"Well, this concludes our little arrangement," the sergeant said, abnormally pleased with himself. "You and Sarathra are free to fly and nest wherever you wish, our town excluded to avoid misunderstandings. I'll talk the mayor into compensating the shepherds for the animals that go missing into a dragon's talons, so that your mate continues to enjoy mutton."

"Are we mercenaries?"

"Ah, don't mind that," Garen flicked his wrist dismissively. "A term for formalities' sake. We've our own army, Surodar. We have powerful allies. Although, if a war threatens to break loose and we're on the losing side, just know that your territory will count among the conquered lands."

With that said, Garen folded the vellum, tucked it under an arm, and clambered the stairs leading into the town hall, leaving Surodar alone with the phoenix-shaped fountain sitting a few steps behind him, producing the most pleasant of sounds to his keen ears.

He did good by coming here. Sarathra would have lost her temper when the term 'mercenary' came into play, but Naya tended to agree with Garen. No town would have chosen to expand its trading routes if safety was a concern. If worst came to worst, him and his mate still had the option to fly away. After all, if Karad's Rest was conquered, the documents he signed with his paw print would be rendered useless.

They had options as dragons, whereas the humans, not so many.

And now, Naya had exactly two. Her human side craved to fly to her humble abode, to wait out for the spell to end and return to her ordinary life, that of a spellcrafter.

But that would leave Sarathra alone, with a clutch to raise on her own, just like her previous one.

This choice was no choice at all. Surodar launched himself into the skies, beating his wings hard, giving everything he had in order to be reunited with his mate as fast as possible. His heart skipped a beat when he found her sunbathing, belly up, wings sprawled along the bank of the river in which she used to fish.

Her amethyst eyes cracked open at the thump that heralded Surodar's landing, drifting towards him lazily.

"That didn't take long. I half expected them to chain you to a table, legs sprawled, so they could tickle your paws in search of new methods to slay dragons."

"I'm not that ticklish!"

Sarathra chuffed. "Yes you are, especially in the hinds. Come closer, and I'll show you just how ticklish you are."

Surodar approached her, but not because he had a point to prove. A film of slick sheen covered her sex, oozing that potent and intoxicating fragrance. One whiff, and Surodar's slit already tingled, his meat spilling from its dainty nest. He released a muffled whining sound as he nuzzled her neck, kissing her snout a few times, shaking his head out of her forepaws so that he could slide his snout further down her belly.

"Impatient, are we?" Sarathra rolled onto her side, her haunch flowing over her sex, covering that alluring sight. She sprang onto her feet, sparing a glance between Surodar's legs, trilling in that soft, almost erotic way of hers. "You've been thinking of me as well, haven't you?"

More than she suspected, actually. Surodar's stomach churned due to nerves, and his wings shuddered in their sockets. His tail curled inwards, tucking between his legs, tail tip flicking restlessly.

"Always. I--I'm not the mate you think I am," he said, his heart pounding, every scale on his body tingling with the urge to spill forth the truth and save this lovely creature the impending heartache of discovering it on her own.

"No you're not," she said, rubbing her body against him like a cat.

Surodar's stomach sank, and for a few, tense moments, all he heard were the thundering beats of his panicked heart.

"You are clumsy. You don't know how to hunt. You have the paws of a cat, not those of a dragon, and I know very little about you."

Then, just as Surodar was about to snap and confirm her suspicions, Sarathra's silken tongue washed over his snout, bathing him with warm fondness.

"But you're mine, mate, and the thought of you is enough to get my underbelly moist and warm."

Surodar froze. He wasn't prepared for this, nor did he want to perpetuate this lie any longer.

But then, Sarathra's tongue found his cock. She licked along his ridged base, encouraging the rest of his meat to come out, his shaft tightening and throbbing due to those hot, pleasurable strokes of her smooth appendage.

He should have told her the truth, but instead, Surodar whimpered and mewled, his haunches quivering and thrusting forward out of their own accord.

Sarathra emitted a playful growl, licking her muzzle in a drawn-out, salacious way, wagging her tail like an eager dog.

The first time, Surodar had been unable to control his instincts, the temptation of breeding too much for a virgin male. Right now, however, he willingly followed his mate to a bed of grass. He eagerly stared at her as she showed her readiness to mate by flopping onto her back, her amethyst eyes bearing into his.

His conscience screamed at him to stop, to do the right thing for once, but Surodar couldn't; not when his mate lured him in with a gentle warble.

He aligned his body with hers, nostrils flared to suck in her fragrance. Then, in one quick thrust, he spread her slick folds apart, her pussy squelching from the too fast, too deep thrust. Sarathra roared, her body stiffening all of a sudden, her muscles clenching all around Surodar.

Spurts of scalding dragoness climax erupted from her depths, ramming against his throbbing erection, splattering onto his slit and belly. Stunned, with his own cock burning with the need for release, Surodar remained still, his claws dug into the ground, his back arched forward so that his slit connected with Sarathra's.

His mate scrunched her eyes shut, wrinkles forming along her snout as she snarled her pent-up desire, her toes clenching and relaxing in unison with the spasms wracking her depths. That gentle kneading motion filled Surodar with an eerie warmth. He felt light-headed, as if riding a high. Not a physical, but an emotional one, Sarathra's quick orgasm connecting with him on a deeper level than he deemed possible.

This dragoness needed him so bad, she had her orgasm from the very first thrust. Surodar had no idea why she loved him so much, or what he did to deserve her trust. The one thing he knew, with every fiber of his being, was that he wanted to please her; to do his utmost to satisfy his mate.

As soon as her inner muscle relaxed around the golden dragon's tapered cock, Surodar sucked in a deep breath and began pounding her as fast as he could, breeding her with the efficiency one could expect from a dragon. His claws drew furrows along the ground, toes spreading for extra balance. That erect, throbbing shaft plunged in and out of Sarathra's swollen vent, the ridges dragging along her quivering lips, massaging her sex in all the lewd ways.

Surodar's muscles burned. His lungs felt aflame with the effort to keep the air locked within his chest, so that he could fully focus on where to aim his cock, and how deep to pierce his mate. When he could no longer endure the maddening pace, the golden dragon snarled through gritted teeth, his lustful hiss slowly reducing to a dull panting.

Under him, Sarathra's snout scrunched as well, her lips parting to reveal rows of sharp, glistening fangs. She lashed out with her forepaws, digging her claws into Surodar's shoulders, spreading her legs further apart to give him full control over her body. To keep him going, she gave him a few licks on the cheek, but her tongue was half numb, and her wings once again twitched in their sockets as her second orgasm threatened to engulf her.

"Hrrrrrarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr," she roared in Surodar's face, snapping her jaws inches from his snout, clawing at his shoulders hard enough to pierce through the scales and scrape the sensitive hide underneath.

In his heightened state, pain felt euphoric, just like the fiery pressure gathered at the base of his cock, ready to explode.

"Mraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaawwl," Surodar yowled, shoving his entire girth into Sarathra, their two slits slamming together. Seed flooded her cunt, brought about by the abrupt lurches of Surodar's cock. Sarathra clamped down upon him, forcing him still, as if to enjoy every wave of thick, hot cum that her mate gave her.

Spent, with his limbs shaking too hard for comfort, Surodar fell upon Sarathra's belly, the dragoness crooning her surprise at that.

"Such a strong, valiant male. One mating, and he falls limp."

"This one was...it was too intense," Surodar said through his panting breaths, relishing the warmth of her scales pressed against his

"It was. It felt as if we both feared the same thing and yearned for each other more than usual as a result." She flicked her tongue between his nostrils, then shifted her snout to his ear to whisper, "Promise me you are never going to leave my side; that you will never ejaculate outside of me."

"I promise," Surodar said, only to paw at her snout when he realized he pledged an additional thing that he felt strangely comfortable with.

"You do?" Sarathra nibbled on his toes playfully, eyes shining with mischief. "Because you might be tempted to employ your paws on yourself while I am off hunting. They are soft, after all, and your tongue can moisten them."

"They will never replace you," Surodar said, licking at her throat. "I have never pleasured myself before I met you, and I have no reason to start now."

"Now that's a proper male," Sarathra trilled, lounging her head back to surrender herself to Surodar's affection. "You will make a wonderful father. I know it."

Surodar's heart skipped a beat at the implications of a female spellcrafter becoming the father of a dragon family, yet instead of ruining the moment, he continued to let his tongue speak on his behalf, focusing on the elaborate strokes that made Sarathra purr oh so brightly.

***End of chapter 3***

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