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Some kingdoms thought dragons were evil. There was even a kind of stigma against them here, where everyone rode them. Robert had always figured it was because of the uncanny intelligence; the nobles instinctively preferred horses, animals that they could feel utterly superior to, whereas riding a dragon required a certain bond, a fundamental respect for ones mount, or they'd deliberately get the rider into situations they'd rather not be in.

But well-trained and with mutual respect, a dragon could do so many things a horse never could. They were faster, stronger, and fiercer. A single squad of dragonriders could turn the tide of battle against most lesser armies, the mounts keeping their masters safe without needing to be commanded to.

Robert would never ride one, himself; they were for the royalty, the nobles, the knights and a few of their most valued squires. He was merely a low-born, one of the most common folk, and an orphan at that, destined to die young. Or at least, he would've been, had he not demonstrated his extraordinary ability to take care of these beautiful steeds. Most of the nobles had protested at letting a peasant like himself even touch their dragons, but more than a few had also noticed how calm they were around him, and as such, they'd argued his case.

He knelt down to clean and polish the scarlet scales of the wyrm before him, and it gave an appreciative rumble in response. The dragons liked him, and he liked them in turn. He understood how they thought, at least for the most part, and that skill had saved him from starving to death on the streets, back when his parents had both succumbed to an illness that thankfully left Robert untouched. It wasn't an easy life; not in the slightest. There were many dragons to take care of, leaving him with little free time, but it was a thankful kind of work, and each drake he fed, cleaned or treated would thank him with a lick, a rumble, or sometimes even a share of their meals. They did eat better than him, after all, and they knew as much. And unlike the nobles, they cared.

Spending most of his boyhood and these teenage years doing just that had left him with few human friends, and little in the way of courtly graces, but it didn't bother him. Not really. Well, perhaps it did, a little; he would've preferred having friends he could talk to. But lacking them, he got along with the dragons just fine; they understood him, and he understood them. He finished scrubbing and polishing the scales and frills of the red before him, and he gave him a pat on the flank. The dragon stood up with another grateful rrrf, moved, and another one took its place.

Most of the knights and nobility appreciated him, at least. They didn't talk to him much, as he was so far below their station, but they knew how useful he was in taking care of their steeds. Not so much for the younger folk; he had all kinds of insults thrown at him. Shit-shoveller. Dragonfucker. Peasant. Not that he wasn't a peasant, but it was the sneering tone that made it an insult. Most of the time, he'd simply nod and take it, unwilling to risk further abuse. If worst came to worst, he knew the dragons would defend him – they were just as loyal to him as they were to their masters – but either way he'd have to run, and he wouldn't survive for long as an outlaw.

The doors to the stables swung open, a dragon, a squire and some of his apparent friends all coming in. Speak of the devil. Robert noticed that the dragon was limping. Nothing serious. But she was whining, whimpering quietly with each step.

“You, stableboy, my mount hurt his leg," the squire called out. “Take care o- god it smells like shit in here," he choked out, his sycophant friends chuckling.

“Must be the dragonfucker. At least the drakes bathe," one of them replied. So very clever. The old adage of being rich if he had a penny each time someone made that joke came to Robert's mind.

It'd been a long day already, so he did something he really knew he shouldn't. But the words were out before he caught himself. “Take care of her leg, you mean?" he said.

“What? You think I don't know my own dragon?" he replied. “Listen to this-“ he turned towards his entourage, who were all looking at the dragon now before noticing that he was looking at them in turn. None of them said anything, realizing that it was indeed a female dragon that the squire was riding. His face turned crimson red and he shot a hateful glance towards Robert, who offered a wide grin in response. Also not the smartest thing to do, but he was feeling really good about it all, at least until the squire stormed out. No doubt he'd pay for this later, but what could they do? There was nobody else to take of the dragons as well as he did, and he barely got paid as it was.

Robert returned to his duties, trying to think as little of what had transpired as he could, focusing on the soothing repetition of cleaning drake after drake. Hard work, especially with mating season only days away – leaving the dragons rather fidgety and restless – but it put money on the table, and at least the mounts appreciated it.

For a few days after that, life went on as usual, until one night, the young stable boy found himself rudely awakened in his little cottage near the stables, pinned down by the squire and his friends. They'd quietly picked the simple lock and there wasn't much else in the way of security, and so the thing that he woke up to where their hands painfully wrenching his arms behind his back. Before he could scream for help, they'd stuffed a dirty rag into his mouth to quiet him, and carried him back to the main stables.

“Well, dragonfucker, I think it's time for you to learn the difference between drakes and hens, yourself," chuckled their leader, his voice dripping with smugness. Robert couldn't do anything; he struggled, sure, but he had five or six equally strong boys holding onto him.

Then, they tore his clothes off, one by one, and for a moment Robert was panicking, afraid that he'd get raped, but none of his assailants made any move to strip off their own clothes in turn. But once he was fully naked, his still boyish body in goosebumps in the chill night air, they bent him over one of the breeding racks, quickly tying him up. Robert struggled against the leather straps around his wrists and ankles, but they were so tight he could feel them almost cutting off bloodflow. He tried to focus on something, anything, still sure that they were going to violate him in some way, but that never came. Not from the humans.

“We'll send someone in the morning," the insufferable young noble laughed, unlatching the gate to the stables and pulling it open. “Hope you'll learn to not talk back to your betters, idiot."

Without any further words, they left, their laughs and remarks fading into the night. Robert was drooling around the filthy rag in his mouth, trying to spit it out but not succeeding. It tasted like the dragons smelled. He was fairly sure it was one of the rags he used to clean them. But what was the point of all this? He didn't have the faintest idea. Eventually someone would find him, and for treating him like this, even a squire would be punished; perhaps stripped of his apprenticeship, or at least having it prolonged until he learned the appropriate knightly manners.

It was then, though, that Robert heard someone approach behind him, rumbling with curiosity. One of the dragons. It wouldn't hurt him, he knew that for certain, so if that was what his tormentors were hoping for they'd be disappointed. He felt the cold scales brush against his naked side as the drake circled him. It was one of the younger, smaller ones. A blue he could remember taking care of when it sprained a leg, once. Out of all the dragons, it was probably the one most affectionate with him as a result, those slit eyes sparkling with curiosity about the stable keeper's precarious situation.

The drake circled him twice, and suddenly, Robert felt something wet and warm slurp along his bare, vulnerable ass, all the way from his sack to his tailbone. He squirmed, mumbling out muffled words of protest, but the dragon simply churred and then did it again, sending a shiver down the stable boy's spine. Fine, he thought. It doesn't feel terrible. In fact, it felt kind of good, but when the drake suddenly reared up and mounted him, the terror was renewed. There was nothing he could do when he finally realized what the was planning, what the plan had been all along, the soft and warm belly-scales pressing against his back.

He felt something hot and stiff nudging at his thigh. His cock. He's going to mate with me. I can't believe my first time will be with a dragon.

It wasn't that the dragons hadn't tried being amorous with him. They didn't much care what species they mounted, not like humans did. And now that it finally had the opportunity to do it, it wasn't going to let it slip. Thankfully it was a smaller and younger drake, so Robert reasoned it might not hurt too much, despite the increasing ache of his pucker slowly yielding as the drake pressed against it, harder and harder. Warm, wet heat spread over his opening, the dragon trilling happily as it felt his body opening, slowly letting him inside. There was a twinge of pain, a shudder and a sudden stretch as the bloated head of that bestial shaft slipped into him. Pop.

It hurt, but not for long. The dragon licked his neck as if to soothe him, as if it understood what discomfort he was feeling. More affection than a human would show. Robert tried to pull away but the rack he was on was designed to hold dragons, any size from pony to massive draft horse, and he was merely a human. He couldn't move an inch as the azure drake thrust again, more of his cock slipping into the warm confines of Robert's body. And it bumped into something inside him that make him see stars, moaning out as a pleasurable spasm forced the air from his lungs. The dragon replied with a satisfied, low grunt-growl as the human clenched around the very based of his shaft when he hilted himself into him.

With his cock snugly within the human's warm confines, the dragon stopped for a moment, as if to savor the moment, and then began to rut with a steady pace, the extreme tightness eased by the copious precum splashing into his keeper each time he shaft throbbed. Robert felt every moment of it, every ridge as it sawed through his tautly stretched, aching hole, sending shocks of pleasure through his body. He felt every throb, that eager animalistic maleness bucking against his inner walls, the cum-vein flexing and then a comforting, soothing warmth splashing somewhere deep inside him.

And he realized that he was hard as rock, too. Every hump rubbed his cock against the worn leather of the breeding rack. Dazed with pleasure, he hadn't even noticed that he was moaning, but he was. Despite the pain and humiliation, he was moaning like a bitch in heat as the dragon claimed his ass. The stable was, luckily, far enough that nobody heard him. Nobody except the other dragons, all stirring from their slumber to the wet squelches and needy moans.

It didn't last long. Robert recalled seeing the dragons mating with each other. It only took them a few minutes to finish, preferring to mate several times rather than for long like humans did. He felt that shaft swell inside him, stretching him even further, his mind inflamed with pleasure as he imagined himself as one of the dragonesses, rumbling and growling with need as they prepared to receive their mate's seed. He felt the drake throb, felt his chest vibrating against his back as he huffed and purred, and then, a deafening victorious roar as the first rope of thick, warm dragonseed erupted into his receptive body.

He could almost hear it. Splurt, splurt, splurt. He certainly felt it, and it felt like gallons, a pleasant warmth spreading through his inside as she was inseminated, that sticky, plentiful seed filling every nook and cranny within him. Some of it gushed out around that quivering maleness as the pressure became too much, staining his thighs and splattering onto the ground below. But most of it stayed inside, leaving Robert feeling bloated, utterly full, his belly ever so slightly distended from the sheer volume of sperm pumped into him, almost making him look a month pregnant.

The blue dragon gave his neck another affectionate lick and climbed off, before curling up next to his new, thoroughly bred mate, and Robert let out a sigh of relief as a steady stream of cum ran down his legs, easing the pressure within. It wasn't long before another dragon peeked out of the stables, though, drawn by the scents and sounds. That relief was short-lived, as the next dragon mounted him in turn, sloppily spreading his cum-oozing hole wide once again, this one even bigger than before.

Robert came almost immediately as that even bigger shaft bumped into that wonderful spot inside him. Another load moan escaped his lips as those ecstatic spams tore through him, his ass clenching and squeezing around that second cock that threatened to leave him gaping. His cum smeared against his bare stomach as he spilled, his own cock tightly sandwiches between himself and the rack, but he didn't care. He gave in. He wanted more, it felt too good to fight.

At that point, all of the dragons seemed to be awake. Several gathered around the mating pair, and with lust-glazed eyes, Robert could see they were all fully erect. He'd never really looked at dragon cocks, at least not as something beautiful and luscious, but something had changed inside him. He couldn't stop staring at each wonderful draconic shaft, all fully erect and bobbing as they restlessly paced around him, waiting for their turn. Some were ridged, others smooth, some tapered and others blunt. A few even had swellings at the base of their shafts, just where they pushed out of those puffy slits. Robert found himself drooling at the sight as the beast on top of him thumped against him, driving that beautiful maleness into him at a feverish pace, keeping his senses aflame with lust. All of those erections were for him. Eager to plunged into his ass the moment the previous one left. There was perverse sense of pride to it, and he couldn't wait to let them mate with him, squeezing around his current mate, trying to spur him into orgasm so the others wouldn't have to wait much longer.

Soon, that dragon, too, had left his wonderful cum inside him in a series of quivering, throbbing spurts. And then another, and another, until he was utterly bloated with their blissful, loving deposits inside him. He looked pregnant. Felt pregnant. And it felt like heaven.

He lost count of how many took him and how many times he'd cum, himself, lost in a constant sea of release. Towards the end he was entirely caked in dragon musk and cum, the last of the drakes even knotting him, something the others hadn't managed to do, shoving that swollen knot, almost the size of his fist, into his raw, stinging ass. Though it also did something else as it laid on top of him, dumping yet another load into him. It slit the straps holding Robert in place, freeing him.

The stable boy didn't remember how he made it back to his cottage, but he did regardless, waking up still gaped and leaking, his modest bed soaked with dragonseed. Something changed between him and the dragons that night. From that point onwards they'd try to mount him at times, and he would let them, wanting to feel them rut and fill his young body again and again, taking care of not only their scales and wounds, but also their lusts, quickly becoming a communal hen for each and every drake to sate their desires on.

Someone must've realized what was happening, sooner or later, if not from the constant smell of draconic musk around him, then from those happy, satisfied grins on their faces. But nobody said anything; he kept them happy, after all. And he loved every second of it.