The journey of an exile ch1: Choices
This is a story commission that I have written for Saphirafafnar( https://www.furaffinity.net/user/saphirafafnar/ )
Description: After falling prey to the temptation of discovering the pleasures of mating alongside his most beloved sister, the green dragon Khaeldran leaves his family in self-imposed exile to ensure that nobody suspects or discovers the taboo affection they bear each other.
Khaeldran(c) and Rhaedra(c) are my characters
***The journey of an exile chapter 1: Choices***
"Why do you have to be such a good hunter?" Rhaedra asked in that teasing way of hers, hazel eyes bearing into his. Her tongue strolled across the left and right of her slim snout to collect some of the blood marring her softer colored green scales, leaving enough mess for Khaeldran to clean up in the same way that they had done since their first meal as hatchlings.
But before Khaeldran had the chance to assume his rightful role, her nose horn poked right at the soft scales of his throat, its decently sharp tip cutting his breath away.
"Better that you don't speak," she said, settling a padded paw over his nostrils, the pink-mottled, leathery tissue scented as soft as its surface now that she had licked them clean. "I already know what will come out of that too elegant muzzle of yours. If you didn't prove me wrong, I'd have continued to believe you are a female like the rest of us."
He wanted to shake her off, to snarl and perhaps bite some sense into her pads, but he restrained himself at the last moment. At the back of his mind, deep down in a dark corner, a sliver of the bleak truth portraying his current situation persisted, nudging him towards the surface of this surreal landscape in a barely perceptible way.
He wasn't truly here, together with his dearest of his four sisters. He had not feasted on twin-tusk boars for weeks after fleeing their native territory, and he no longer had any family to bathe him after a hunt. Not after he had left all that he held dear due to a mistake that should never have happened for longer than he cared to remember.
Rhaedra's paw fell off his muzzle, planting into the ground as the leaf-green female leaned back on her haunches, her lighter-hued, bronze-flecked frills perking in indignation. Any other male might have found her terrifying, given the size of her spines and her thorny horns, but Khaeldran never took her seriously because of her paws. True, her toes housed claws sharper than his, but of all his sisters, she ended up as the only one with father's soft feet.
"Leave, then," she growled, pointing her leaf-shaped tail tip at the sky. "Your mind is already there, and you have indulged in this habit of ours for far longer than you had to. But we're no longer hatchlings, and I have to accept that despite your promise to me, mrrrrhm."
Just as she got up and prepared to head for a lake with a dour growl sizzling within her throat, Khaeldran grabbed her by the tail, behind the frilled tip, to stop her, then licked across the scales that his fangs bit into reassuringly.
"It will always be our post-meal ritual. No matter how old we grow, it shall remain part of us."
When Rhaedra turned her head, she regarded him not with the warmth he had grown so accustomed to, but with a sharp, almost critical glare that made his wings fold and his ears droop.
"Then prove it," the dragoness challenged him by fanning out her wings and frills. "Show me that it is truly how you feel, because I no longer trust your words on the matter."
Khaeldran froze. A similar dare had led him down this perilous a path before. It had tempted him to stray away from the familiarity of her muzzle and the safe softness of her paw pads and delve lower down her body, too close to the forbidden area between her legs. Her young honey had just begun to leak out of her, and regardless of his mental fortitude and reticence to give in to his sister's dares, Rhaedra found a way to slip through his defenses and convince him to explore his first female in the safest, most harmless of ways.
But once he started, Khaeldran found it impossible to stop. He had drunk too deep of her, enough for his addled mind to find solid logic in her request that they should be each other's first; that her most trusted and loved brother ought to show her how mating feels, even though its intricacies were foreign to him as well.
So, instead of wrestling himself out of her like they both agreed to so that his seed shot over the cold, uncaring soil, Khaeldran found her depths too tight, too stimulating, and far too intoxicating to leave them, and so he...he...couldn't...not in time...not before he started to turn soft over the hearty purr and fulfilled licks of his blissfully ignorant sister.
"It is a dream," he spoke out loud words that were meant for himself. "You are a dream for your future mate," he then corrected himself, unwilling to give up on this magical moment just yet. It had already happened once before, and he took the proper measures to ensure that such a union would not come to pass a second time.
Unless it took place in the realm of dreams, where the burdens of reality no longer applied.
"Such an uncharacteristic thing to say," Rhaedra purred, her featuring softening, eyes beaming with the affection in which Khaeldran had drowned one too many times. "You did not even meet him. Perhaps he is a scarred brute. Or maybe he is a petite whelp who hardens at the mere sight of me, yet who can never muster the same courage you have displayed by entering me."
Courage, she called it. Khaeldran knew it by a different term, a more inelegant one that outlined naught but a base need, such as hunting, eating and sleeping. Instead of correcting her, he made his way to her snout so that he could rub cheeks with her.
"I trust you, Rhaedra. Be it a brute, a cowardly youngling, or a black dragon from the dark lands beyond the Great Ravine, you have made the right choice."
"And what if I didn't?" his sister insisted, nipping on his ear playfully, then licking at its olive inside to trigger that annoying, instinctive shake of Khaeldran's head. "What if I simply wanted to fill the empty life of a male who others would avoid? To be the glimmer of hope previously denied to them?"
She had one such side, a dangerously benevolent one that forced Khaeldran to outgrow their hatchling frolic faster than all of his sisters. As the sole male left in a family of females after father's untimely demise, the responsibility of looking after them fell on his wings, a weight that had since kept him grounded into the harsh reality of their world.
For the most part, at least. The more his mother urged them to leave their nest in search of their precious other half so that she could try her chance at happiness once again, the harder it became to keep all of his sisters focused on the importance of their choices and decisions. That, of course, led to him being the one to slip in a moment of great weakness. How ironic, that the male who urged caution and self-control at every turn ended up falling prey to Rhaedra's desire to see him happy and fulfilled by ridding himself free of his agitated, sweltering mating dreams.
"If that is your life's ambition, to mend the broken and provide a sense of belonging to misunderstood outcasts, then who am I to stop you?"
He knew that purr; that soft, intoxicating sound that wrapped its warm, electrifying coils around him to pull him towards the inevitable.
I have a choice, Khaeldran thought as his sister elegantly strolled in front of him, her tail waving from one side to the other in sluggish arcs meant to emphasize the translucent desire coating the soft, paler scales surrounding her sex.
I don't have to do this, he tried to convince himself when her tail flicked upwards to give him a furtive glance at the concealed isle where the same drenched scales from before progressively faded into smooth, rosy skin that outlined the puffy, aroused edges of her slit-shaped entrance.
She is my sister. Not my mate, but my sister, the young green dragon attempted to invoke the truest and strongest of reasons as to why he should avoid giving in to the will of the throbs wracking his too hard and eager shaft.
It did not help. Nor did it matter. This dream was his only connection to a family that he had abandoned for reasons that Rhaedra certainly considered selfish, and despite the regret that strangled his heart for being such weak-minded fool, Khaeldran's snout approached her sex.
She smelled far better than he remembered, her smooth yet potent fragrance lush with pheromones that bespoke of her fertility. Khaeldran deeply inhaled the maddening perfume of her first heat, his breath shuddering, his temples pounding, and his cock stiffening to the point where it felt as if his seed would shoot straight out of him. He only managed a quick lick across the dragoness' fevered lips before Rhaedra skipped forward, her tail hugging his neck lovingly.
"Mind yourself, my beloved. You are overeager, impatient and far too sensitive. It is far better that you seek shelter inside me, and pour within me all those worries and frustrations you have harbored for far too long."
She spoke too true for Khaeldran to mount any defense against the perverse lust that coursed through him. Upon reaching sexual maturity, Khaeldran began to trust the scent of his sisters more than he believed their words. Far too worried that they might let a young, inexperienced male inside them simply because he knew how to court them and where to lick them, he sniffed them for signs of heat whenever the opportunity arose, intent on protecting them from the brashness of their instinct. Of all of them, Rhaedra was the only one who not only teased, but playfully wooed him, aware of the effect her scent stirred within his underbelly.
"Look at yourself," she impishly chided him, loosening her hold on him so that she could glance between his legs and at how awfully erect he was. "Your tip grew so prominent that a single lick will be enough to coax your seed out, and your ridges..." she paused to let out a lustful growl at how the taut formations adorning the underside of his cock stood out. "Your ridges never looked so sharp and appealing. Why must you always deny yourself this simplest yet most meaningful of pleasures?"
He didn't respond. Not before his snout tip connected with the warm, soggy flesh of her rift a second time, causing Rhaedra's purr to raise along with her inviting tail. It uncoiled from his neck with the grace of a serpent, giving him free reign over her sex.
Lost in the moment, and with such a ripe offering presented to him, Khaeldran's first instinct was to absorb as much of her scent as possible; to learn as much about the state of her heat as his senses allowed, and to savor every pheromone-laden breath. His flaring nostrils desperately skipped along the length of her pussy, her smell stronger and rougher towards the end of her slit, where he was supposed to enter. The intensity of her aroma enraptured him, causing the drake's nostrils to kiss her lips in his desperate attempts to savor all that Rhaedra had to offer.
"Mriiiiiiih," Khaeldran whined, dabbing his snout against her bare, throbbing flesh, uncertain whether to lick or not. The heat oozing through her convinced his tongue to finally loosen, all so that he could soothe that portion of his sister which clearly suffered from the toll of heat.
"Mrrrrmmmm, eager. Too...hrrrhhh...too eager," Rhaedra barely wrestled those ominous warnings out of her while caught in the fetters of pure bliss. Khaeldran felt her muscles ripple with great longing while caressed by caring tongue; he tasted her desperation on the thick yet smooth honey trickling from her vent, and he smelled her dire need to be bred. Rather than speak words that would fall on deaf ears, the dragoness' tail found his neck again, hugging him as tight as she wanted him to hug her.
Khaeldran didn't think. The way Rhaedra's tail grip softened and hardened in an enticing, almost erotic massage seduced him beyond the defense his frail resolve hoped to mount. So, he simply acted according to the will of the burning, overpowering lust that had welled within his throbbing erection, rearing on his hind paws and hugging Rhaedra by her middle with his fores while his tip probed for her entrance. With every missed thrust that glanced against her underbelly scales and slid frustratingly close to his mark, the nubs surrounding Khaeldran's spaded tip flared harder and ached with renewed urgency. If he didn't find his way inside her within the next five strokes, his pent-up seed would burst forth regardless of where it landed, as was the case for any male who had not been with a female in months.
"Take it slower. Breathe. Relax your uptight wings," Rhaedra said between the loving licks she planted on his scrunched snout. "Then again, you always rushed head-first into the pleasures life offers."
Such a sweet, serene, arousing voice. It wasn't just her scent, the sight, the appeal of her soggy sex, and her willingness to invite him into the depths of her being that aroused Khaeldran to such extent. He had known Rhaedra all his life, and had groomed every scale on her far too familiar body so many times he lost track. They hatched together, and in an irrational, almost perverted way, he believed himself the only male capable of satisfying her needs, for who else could ever know or love her more than he did?
She wanted to whisper more of her allure into his ear, but her words faltered when his tip finally kissed her lips. The slick, inviting warmth of her folds tugged on the deepest, most intimate part of Khaeldran's instinct, urging his back to arch and his hips to buck so that he plunged the entirety of himself into her.
"Grrrrh," Rhaedra growled and moaned at the same time, her head resting against his throat, so that the two different tonalities of their purr could intertwine. Khaeldran couldn't see her face, but he definitely imagined her eyes squeezing shut at how good it felt to have her wet emptiness filled by him. Her muscles twitched and shuddered around him erratically, as if to savor every taut, fleshy nub crowning his tip, every pointy bump adorning the bottom of his shaft, and every ridge lining the base of his fully erect shaft.
Having his most private part of his body completely engulfed by the softest, most intimate part of her being, as well as pressing his body against hers in such profound and meaningful of ways, caused Khaeldran's pent-up, over-eager seed to shoot far quicker than he meant it to. Against his will and expectations, the river of pleasure he had tried to hold back flooded his very senses, causing his tip to bulge to refuse shortly before his essence exploded into Rhaedra.
Khaeldran did not roar. He moaned, whined and whimpered, his hips jerking weakly against the thicker, stronger haunches of his sister as he attempted to both enhance his climax and satisfy Rhaedra to the best of his abilities. The warmth and strength of his spurts did a far better work in stimulating her, however, causing her muscles to rapidly clench and relax around his throbbing shaft to ease the flow of seed out of him.
Completely overwhelmed by the sheer bliss of his second mating, Khaeldran's efforts to do a male's duty ceased, his forepaws focusing on hugging his sister as tight as he could, hindpaws frantically seeking for better purchase so as to keep his member lodged as deep into her as possible. During that moment of utter abandon, it mattered not that his seed risked getting her heavy with his clutch. Such worries drowned in that ocean of pure elation, where nothing else but their union mattered.
"Mrr...mrriiiih," Khaeldran whined one final time after his senses began to recover from the too demanding toll mating took on them. This was when the reality of their union dawned on him as well, bringing forth those dark, menacing, inevitable clouds that he could never hope to outfly. The storm was upon him, and all that he could do was accept its ancient truth, that no dragon could escape it, but weather it.
Khaeldran did that by remaining inside Rhaedra, so that her far stronger scent dwarfed his and thus blissfully covered the fact that he filled her to the brim with his young yet fertile seed.
"Rrrrrh," she rumbled her fulfillment, licking over one of his half-closed eyes to tease him. "Your eagerness flatters me more than anything you will ever say. I find it regretful that as a male, you can never experience the utter satisfaction of being claimed with such enthusiasm, and of being filled so quick and so thoroughly that your heart swells close to bursting. It...it always makes me feel like you have anticipated this moment so much, that when it is finally here you are overwhelmed with its sheer greatness."
The rich, excited purr rippling through Khaeldran's throat amplified the affection she bore him despite it being laden with regret on his side for failing to bring her to her peak. He did that with his tongue prior to their first mating, so his failure to accomplish that in the same way other males did weighed harder on him than she suspected. His upbringing made him too good at shrouding his emotions and intent, to a point where that tiny portion he kept secluded from Rhaedra began to grow to uncomfortable levels.
He'd tell her of his failures. One day, he would confess his sacrifices, frustrations and worries to his entire family. But for the time being, he cherished her licks and savored her content hum too much to spoil the moment.
"What is there for us to learn?" Khaeldran repeated the first question she posed after their first mating as he attempted to lick her at the same time she did, thus causing their tongues to meet. "Perhaps I know you so well, that we skip to the end of our mating before it even begins."
"Mrrh, always turning your weaknesses into strengths."
Before he had the chance to react, Rhaedra's body shifted forward. His limp forelegs acted too late to prevent her from fleeing his embrace, and gravity did the rest. He unceremoniously fell on his fours, dazed and confused as he watched trails of smooth, gooey seed dribble down Rhaedra's sex on their way to meet the grass. His heart skipped a beat when she lifted a hind leg and twisted her neck to steal a glance, only for it to settle back down when she lounged and rolled in the grass in pure fulfillment.
"That is why I love you more than life itself, brother. No matter your lacks, your mistakes, or the misfortunes that befall you, there is a bright flame that burns within you, one which stokes the faltering ones of others. You might be weak, but you help others feel strong. You shoot your seed quick, but you make your dragoness feel like your most treasured of possessions."
She stopped with her forepaws tucked to her chest and her legs spread to the sides in an almost comical position, all so that her entrancing eyes bore into his.
"You will abandon me one day. Could be this very night, when I sleep, a moon or a year later, but a moment will come when you will have to choose between the love you bear me, and the guilt that will slowly consume you."
He...he would never do such a thing! He cherished Rhaedra with every fiber of his being, and had lived his entire life with her! Why would she speak of such false and vile things?
"I know you just as well, my sweet, overly concerned and pent-up brother," she said as she beckoned with her tail for him to join her, which he did in the span of a breath. Her soft, padded forepaws hugged his neck, holding him tight against her chest while she licked him over the tip of his snout, where only his mate ought to.
"It won't be enough to you that I accept the risks and outcome of our union. It's not relevant that I procured myself a mate to protect ourselves and retain our territory, and it will hardly matter to you that I was ever willing to entwine my life with yours. I understand what it entails to be the sole male in a family of females, just as I am perfectly aware that your sense of duty towards me will eclipse everything else."
No! That wasn't true! But for an inexplicable reason, Khaeldran lacked the strength to correct her erroneous judgment. It all felt eerily familiar, as if he had lived through this very moment before, and had paid severest price to ensure that Rhaedra lived the life she deserved, and not the one they both foolishly fantasized about.
And so, he simply savored the sluggish caress of her tongue over the pebbly scales lining his nostrils. Those soft dabs of her toe pads against the tips of his ears, and the exquisite way with which her fangs nibbled on the softer hide covering his throat to show him just how tender she could be with the same teeth that could end the life of another dragon.
"I love you," he wanted to say, had his too vibrant purr not prevented him from it. "I will always love you, and everything that I do is in your best interest."
His sister's words still echoed in his head when Khaeldran roused to the cold, lonely reality of his current situation, one where he apparently shot his seed all over himself instead of filling his beloved sister to the brim, as was a male's duty towards his female.
Half numb and disoriented, the green dragon blinked back the haze of blissful ignorance, his eyes skipping to the edges of his vision to take in his surroundings before they fled back down to the sight of his forepaws. An agitated pounding thundered in his chest as a wave of unbridled shame washed over him, so strong it almost made him dizzy. He knew it to be true. Why look at it, when the wind revealed the location of each patch of liquid humiliation? Why confirm that which his nostrils already stung with, to the point where his lips pulled into a disgusted snarl with his weakness?
When he finally mustered the necessary willpower to accept the outcome of his decision to fly far, far away from the embrace of Rhaedra, Khaeldran slowly, timidly turned his head around, if only because he needed to know the extent of the cleaning he required.
Half of his member had yet to flee back in his slit, his ridges still reasonably stiff, the nubs encircling the edges of his tip somewhat deflated. His wilted spade laid limp in a small puddle of his essence that turned thicker and stickier from the cold, a clammy sensation that Khaeldran only now began to notice.
The Ivory splotches marring the softer, lighter colored scales of his ribs or the dark green plates protecting his belly fared the same fate, and the strings of seed that had pelted his wing resembled tiny white snakes that clung to the olive membrane.
The pungent scent of his loneliness hung all around him like a smothering veil, a constant reminder of how a simple dream of his sister was enough to trigger his climax, now that he no longer had her to help tame his lust with her skilled, silky paws.
A plaintive whine fled Khaeldran's throat, his jaw hanging limp at the sight of his stained self. He wanted to whimper in disgrace at finding himself in such a sorry state, or roar his anger at being brutally torn from that realm of happiness and fulfillment. He did neither while he inspected himself in silence, his snout approaching different patches of seed, yet always drawing back with a hiss at the musky tang of too great a craving. After more than a moon without release, his body had betrayed him in the most vile of ways, turning his greatest of mistakes into one of the most fulfilling dreams he ever had. He missed Rhaedra so, so much, and for a split second, he wondered what she would make of his current condition. Would she find it amusing? Deplorable? Or become overtaken with guilt for allowing his lust to reach such a critical point without interfering?
Khaeldran did not know, nor did he dwell on that for fear of turning tail and fleeing back into her comforting embrace. That temptation always hovered at the forefront of his mind, conjuring worry after worry, reason after reason to cease his self-imposed exile and finally accept that what he did was natural. That such intimacy happened between siblings, and that Rhaedra was not in heat, contrary to what his perverted dream portrayed, and thus highly unlikely to bear his eggs. But if she did...what then? Would she lie to her mate and have him believe it was his clutch? Tell him the truth, or live a lonely, scorned existence, abandoned by everyone who had once loved her?
No. Better not dwell on that. He made the best choice for the both of them, and it was too late to reconsider. He would return to her, but years later when the memory of their accident would be swept away by the necessities of the hatchlings she raised at the side of her loving mate. And he...he would keep searching for...for...
The goal did not matter. Only the journey did. And right now, in the predawn chill of autumn, Khaeldran's foremost concern was to leave behind the scene of his disgrace and wash away the too strong a scent he carried before a wyvern tracked him.
Without even swiping away the more accessible gobs of sticky, ivory seed, Khaeldran began to climb his way out of the hollow in which he rested for the night, weaving his way between the thick trees with rich canopies, perfect for hindering the landing or advances of a bumbling, wing-shuffling wyvern. As soon as he made it within a clearer portion with enough room to comfortably unfurl his wings, the green dragon took to the skies, cringing at the appalling feeling of thick, persistent seed slithering down his scales before dislodging from his frame.
Cold, humid winds battered him, carrying traces of sleet that pelted at the nictitating membranes shielding his eyes. They blew from the heart of the wyvern territory to the north, a frozen, desolate landscape of tall cliffs and icy canyons in which dwelled their mysterious allies, the mountain leopards. Rhaedra would have loved to meet a wyvern, to visit a settlement of bipedal felines known for their enchanted leathers, and venture past the canyons and deeper into the valleys of the nomadic Icetalon drakes.
Khaeldran never harbored such curiosities. He did his best to avoid any encounter with any creature, intent on finding a secluded territory between the borders of two human kingdoms. Nobody would bother him there, and the further south he went, the gentler the climate turned, and the richer the prey.
Since a bigger body of water risked inviting the early rousing wyverns for an easy meal, Khaeldran settled for a brook worming its way down a slope. Barely thicker than his torso and shallow enough to only pass his wrists, the green dragon struggled to roll, wriggle, squirm and trudge through the frigid waters to clean himself. Where the water did not reach, his paws, wings and tail did, which he promptly washed off that foul, persistent slime that left a jarring, sticky feeling between his toes.
Trembling, agitated and fatigued from the prolonged flight sessions that pushed him to his limits in the hope of reaching his destination without crossing paths with any creature that posed a threat to him, Khaeldran scrambled for the nearest patches of bushes to curl behind. His coloring, together with the dappling shadows caressing his frame, often hid him in plain sight, so the young male sheltered his head under a wing and drifted off into uneasy slumber.
***End of chapter 1***
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