The Knight

The city of Tra’Daa had was quite peculiar, it had always been since the founding by a group of wandering magicians that found the land rich in mana, filled with ores to be used to make catalysts for their constructs and spells and inhabited by a number of creatures whose parts enhanced even the shoddiest of swords to the point that kings coveted them. In a sense it was the richest city one could find in that side of the continent, in another it was the most chaotic and unorganized mess in the world. No planning or landscaping had been done other than what individual mages had thought would be fit for their needs, no walls had been erected other than bare brick walls that were coated in runes, magic circles and enchantments. The streets were crooked, turning left and right for no reason, crossing under houses or other roads out of nowhere, the houses themselves built based on whims and making use of what little space was left in between bigger houses at times.

The magic soaking into the ground both helped absorb the already plentiful mana in the region and fuelled the defensive arrays put in place over the years and decades. In short, Tra’Daa was a city that could not be taken by any army because it was just too chaotic and one could use tunnels and secret roads to end up on the other side, and too heavily enchanted with protections for archmages to tackle alone or in groups, not to mention the insane number of other mages ranging from apprentices to grandmasters living in the city itself who definitely wouldn’t stand by in case of an attack. It was precisely this jumbled mess that made such a weird place the perfect haven for those who wanted to practice magic and those who wanted to hide from anyone who knew tracking spells.

Dorian was counting on precisely that part: a team of hunters had tagged him, shot a magic arrow that turned him into a bright beacon during night and day, not allowing him a moment of rest. His armour was tattered, the metal plates tossed in some river after he had fallen trying to escape one of the dozens of attacks, his boots worn down, his gloves full of holes and the sword he had used for years rusted and corroded by ice and acid spells. It took him a day to realize that he had been tagged and even after a week he had not been able to get rid of the spell in any way. He had run through rivers, roads and large plains, his training as a knight and his body aiding him in barely staying a couple steps ahead of his pursuers despite their advantage. With no destination in mind he went for the harshest routes, losing his way a dozen times.

By some stroke of luck, or by the winds of magic that the wizards and sorcerers believed in, he found himself barely fifteen miles from Tra’Daa if the sign hovering above the ground was truthful in any way. It was his only choice. That or try going deeper into the forest where even the hunters wouldn’t dare go, not with all the creatures wandering just beyond the treeline. He knew he could stand his ground until he erased the tag, but they would at least have to think for a few hours. The city, however, was a safer bet. He hoped the sheer amount of spells in the air would either drown the spell attached to him by sheer mana pressure, the thousands of other tags around it making it even harder to pinpoint where he was. Or maybe it could start to feed on the mana around him and cause even more pain than it already did.

The guards at the entrance were no stranger to ragged, wounded, chased individuals. He was questioned, examined, held back for a while but eventually let inside. The mages always needed some guinea pig for their experiments, always wanting one more expendable hand and Dorian could be both if he survived the first night. Others barely acknowledged his existence as he stepped inside the walls and into the guts of the city, shambling through streets and alleys.

Less than a couple hundred yards in Tra’Daa the tag was already so feeble he himself could barely feel it on his skin, the constant hum of the damn thing that was siphoning his mana to feed itself was deafened by the roar of the magic winds and the thunderous thump of the Ley Lines deep beneath the earth. Dorian felt it shatter when he probably reached a mile deep, or at least that how long he felt he had walked for in the weird roads of the city. He stopped and looked at his thigh, where the wound of the magic arrow carrying the mark had nicked him beneath the armour, just in time to see the last of the runes fade in the air. With a sigh of relief the knight collapsed on the ground, tired beyond belief, his legs aching and covered in scrapes but hungry above all things. As a knight he had done his fair share of battles, survived a couple wars, duelled and ran for days with armour but no food or rest was enough to put a dent even in his confidence to be able to walk for one more mile.

With no little amount of grunting and cursing, Dorian stood back up, taking a few seconds to catch his breath, wondering where to go from that point, only to fall on his back a second later, the wall he had been leaning on just gone all of a sudden. He groaned in pain, his head throbbing after the impact with cold stone tiles, his vision blurry.

“Done resting on the front door?” As his eyes opened and tried to focus, the hazy, confused images slowly regained some clarity, a face bearing a recently shaved beard dominated his entire field of view. “You’ve been sitting there for half an hour, I was about to call for some nurse to drag you to some clinic and have you pay for the clients you might have scared away…” The young man scoffed, rolling his eyes before disappearing from Dorian’s sight. The ceiling came into view: wooden beams and stone, runes dancing here and there to act as lights, sucking mana from the wood which in turn sucked it from the ground it was sticking out of, fuelling the entire building.

“I apologize…” Dorian grunted again, pushing on his elbow to get up. Turning around caused his head to flash with pain, meaning the fall had been harder than expected but at least allowed him to have a better look of the interior of whatever establishment he was in: it looked like an inn, with counter and tables and all, a door opening to a kitchen where food was clearly being made and wine barrels and beer mugs but no customers at all. “I’ll be on my way as soon as I…” The knight sighed, realizing once again he had fallen so very low and all because of a small mistake he had written off a month ago. For someone who had been so careful as he had been, having years, almost two decades of diligent work, of nights spent worrying if anyone had somehow found out something, losing his position and being hunted like some thief after one minor slip-up was frustrating and infuriating. Unless someone had known for a much longer time and just needed the excuse. “As soon as I get my bearings together.”

“Then why not stay? We’ve got food, drinks, beds and the promise of safe haven from whoever or whatever has been chasing you for the past hundred miles.” Dorian looked to his right, the innkeeper, or maybe just the clerk, was leaning on the desk, smiling with the smile of a businessman who wanted to strike a deal.

“I have no money.” As much as he wanted to stay, he truly had nothing but the rusted steel of his sword and a broken armour to his name. Even if he had had the time to gather his money a week and a half ago, he’d have rather used those few minutes to run even faster. One mistake and all went wrong… And even if he had some money at all, this place looked expensive.

“Well, you’re a knight, correct? Surely you have had some training against wild beasts like barghests, harpies, selkies, maybe the occasional azeban…” The innkeeper started listing a number of creatures Dorian was only half familiar with, some completely foreign and some he believed to be completely made up on the spot. In the minute that young man spent spouting names, the knight managed to get up and sit on the first chair he could find. “So if you really want to, I could use the help of a strong guy to get me some teeth, hides and such and use the earnings to repay your tab. Maybe even dragon scales if you’re up for a challenge.” Dorian froze, staring at his gloved hands, or what was left of his gloves anyways. He flexed them, over and over again. An idea blossomed in his head. “What do you say?” Still, he took a few seconds to ponder: selling his sword to fight monsters to clear an inn tab sounded so wildly out of line with his life it was almost funny and he’d have laughed were an ambush three days prior not cracked a rib or two and made breathing somewhat of a chore at this point.

“You’ll have to give me a sword and armour.”

“Sure, we can put that on the tab too.” The business smile only grew after that sentence. Dorian groaned, expecting that every meal and moment spent in that inn would count as expenses added to his tab. But he still agreed.

With a nod the innkeeper slapped his hands together and the door to the kitchen opened, the scent of food wafting out like a bomb. Dorian swallowed what little saliva he had left, immediately losing it all as a massive tray full of dishes was carried out by a kobold. Not a human, not a dwarf or even an elf, but a kobold of all things. The knight flinched once the reptilian creature gently pushed the meals off the tray and onto the table and didn’t reply to the big toothy smile of the kobold.

“Ah, yes, that’s Kor, my waitress.”

“It’s a kobold.”

“She’s a great employee.” The innkeeper scoffed. “We’ve got humans who let themselves be used for experiments just to make a quick buck and run away from this continent with a new face or some weird power, mermen, kitsune running brothels and banks alike, some trolls, orcs, an ent or two helping grow food in the fields by the forest… don’t try and be too shocked by a little kobold who tends to tables ok? At least she doesn’t make dents in the wooden floor like a centaur. Hoofprints on hardwood are a bitch even with magic to fix the problem.” Dorian didn’t answer, shooting a sideways glance at the little reptilian creature as she put a mug of beer next to him. “So, enjoy your meal. I’ll have Kor tend to you after you take a bath, we’ve got some great medical salves for injuries I get from a friend who works at the nearest clinic.”

“She’ll be the one treating me?”

“Sure, she’s not a trained nurse but she’s been around long enough to know how to heal anything that walks on two legs decently enough.” The innkeeper grabbed a beer of his own and took a swing. “And if you’re up to it and she agrees, you can get a massage and happy ending.” Dorian almost choked on a bit of mutton, sputtering most of it on the chair opposite him. “Kobold hands? They’re a wonder, truly: small and soft enough to make any man feel like they’re a satyr down there. Especially with some oils and a bit of warmup… Of course, you’ll have to pay her and not me. That’s something she does on her own time and she has the right to keep the earnings.” The knight took a few seconds to get his act together, looking at the innkeeper with shock. In the corner of his vision he could see the little kobold staring at him, the man noticing only in that moment the reptilian was doing what their species did best, namely, go around naked without a care in the world. She smiled at him, her long tongue slipping out till it reached her chest only to slip back behind her lips. Dorian gulped and looked everywhere but where she was. “Anyways, here’s to a lovely business partnership.”

“Call it extortion and it’d feel less weird.” Both men held their mugs in the air and then drank, the knight downing the entire thing in a few swigs. Still, Dorian couldn’t help but sneak glances at the kobold from time to time, the little thing going around handing more food to both of them, more beer and taking away plates.

“Well you can call me Fyr in the meantime if it makes you feel better.”

Before he realized, the knight was resting on a soft bed, his face half buried in a soft pillow, arms and legs spread wide, somehow clean and warm, clothes tossed in a messy, blood and mud-soaked pile on the floor next to the door. He was still drunk, but he could tell he had taken a bath and gotten undressed and taken one of the rooms as his own, not quite sure in which order just yet. The room was big, the bed wide enough for him to be able to rest comfortably unlike the barrack’s so called sleeping benches. A window blew cool air inside, the curtains fluttering and moving in much the same way as the steam wafting from his skin did.

In the moments of silence between one breath and the other, the fatigue of his escape crashed down on him.

“Seventeen years…” Dorian rolled on his back, facing the ceiling, his chest heaving up and down in an instant of lost control. “I did everything they asked me to do for seventeen years and as soon as I slip up once they were so glad to let me go…” He sighed, one hand trailing down on his thigh, fingers tracing the outline of a bite he had come to be so familiar with. He also remembered very clearly the face of the one who had caused it. “It was still worth it though…” Another sigh, the faint voice of someone apologizing and the image of something trying to stop the blood from the bite wound with inhuman, clawed, scaled hands. “I hope you’re ok Tia, wherever you are.” There was silence again. It had all happened so long ago he had forgotten that someone else might have not let the events of those days go. He had hoped, he had made sure to be careful, but he had clearly been wrong.

“Medicine time!” The door opened faster than his reflexes, addled by fatigue and his meal, so he was caught naked, arms and legs spread wide as the kobold waltzed in the room, with a small bag full of glass containers themselves full of all sorts of things that smelled of medicine. He barely got the chance to stand up when he felt her push his head back on the pillow, showing some strength her frame didn’t quite manage to convey properly. “Stay still.” His actions were once again interrupted, this time by the stinging pain of something cold, something that smelled weird and very sticky. He didn’t quite remember any medicine he had been smeared with being this pungent but it was somehow soothing and relaxing in a way, even the smell. Kor kept on rubbing the substance on his entire back until he couldn’t feel a single inch of free skin left. “So… why were you running?” Dorian turned his neck as much as possible, just barely able to see her in the corner of his eyes as she put away the bottle of medicine in the bag.

“Not sure it’s anything you should concern yourself with.” The man huffed.

“It could be if it means someone is after you. It might be a good idea to lose any pursuers in this city but even then, there are always some trackers that have managed to come up with ways to find people even in this mess of a labyrinth.” More noises of bottles against each other. “My boss… our boss, might be a mage himself but it’d be better to know if the newest employee will bring home assassins instead of ingredients.”

“Still not sure I’d tell you. No offense.” Dorian grunted. The medicine was starting to hurt for real now that it was seeping into the wounds on his back. His feet tingled and the taste of iron in his mouth had returned despite having been washed away by liberal amounts of beer before.

“None taken.” The little kobold slapped her hand covered in a different kind of medicine that made the pain even worse, as if the slap alone was not something that wouldn’t have made him wince and bite the pillow. “Everyone has secrets dear, I have them, the innkeeper has them… I’ll respect your wish… for now.” She chuckled, giving him another slap with her hands covered in medicine. “This should help you get better faster than if you had merely rested on the bed. Tomorrow we’ll do some exercises to help your muscles loosen and get back in shape since you’ve not eaten much for a while and overexerted yourself.”

“You sound like a nurse.”

“Thanks, I have a diploma!” Her chipper voice made the knight almost forget she was a kobold and not a human nurse from his barracks. “I have also met enough people on the run to know how to treat them right and how to make them feel at home.” Dorian slowly felt the pain fizzle out of his body, replaced by the pleasurable massage she suddenly started to give him. His muscles still ached, they still hurt here and there but it wasn’t as bad anymore. Covered in bandages the knight sighed with relief, only for his world to be turned upside down, quite literally, as the kobold flipped him on the other side after a good few minutes of deep massage. He was staring at the ceiling now rather than the wall or the pillow, and right between him and the ceiling he could see a scaly muzzle looking down on him. “So, I gave you medicine for the body, now it’s time for medicine for the spirit…” Her tongue slipped out of her mouth and licked her lips. Dorian couldn’t help but wonder just how a tongue that long could fit in a mouth that small. It was probably as long as her head!

“What do you mean?”

“Oh come on, you’re an adult, I’m an adult and I’m sure Fyr has told you I provide extra services for customers.” Her hips began to grind on his crotch. He felt the heat of her slit right on his skin since he was naked, her lips just barely kissing his shaft, smearing it with fluids. “First time is free and since you’re an employee you get the discount for the other times.” Dorian gulped. He had never gone to a brothel and the few relationships he had had with women had been all born from love, one most of all stood above the rest. “You don’t lose anything and even get a better night’s rest for it too.” Her smile grew wider and lustful. “Plus you smell really good and I want to give you a warm, wet, messy welcome to our little inn.” The knight could only sigh for a long moment.

“Alright, I guess I can accept it if it’s free.”

“That’s what they always say, and then they come back for more.” She giggled, her thick tail reaching for his balls and cradling them gently. “Do feel free do moan, there’s no one here but us. Dry season and all that.” The kobold bent lower until her snout was less than an inch away from his nose and kissed the knight.

Dorian froze in shock, surprised by her actions, unable to stop the onslaught of tongue that was crammed in his mouth a moment later. She played with his, overpowered it despite her body being half his own, her saliva dripping down their chins since her stiffer lips failed to close against his. A good minute later she pulled back, leaving the knight panting, oddly heated up and tired, licking his neck as he caught some breath. She turned around completely, her tail hiked up letting the human stare at her vent, droplets of arousal dripping on his abs, her hands grabbing his semi hard shaft. The knight huffed, her hands were soft despite the pebbly scales covering the palms and oh so small. He looked over his shoulders and already his pride got a good boost: even mostly soft she could barely get halfway around his girth. The sight made his cock jump, a rope of precum flying in the air and landing on her snout, licked clean by her far longer tongue. Again his cock throbbed, hardening, pushing her already loose grip wider until both hands just barely met in the middle at the base of his shaft.

She waited for a few seconds, stroking him from base to tip, her tongue coiling over and over around his flesh, slathering every inch in saliva, slowly inching her rump away from him to the other side until she was staring at him from behind his length, her snout pressed firmly against the underside. She kept licking, jacking him off with her tongue and hands at the same time, her slick organ sliding over and under her digits, her mouth open and breathing heavily over his sack. Dorian was a knight, trained to resist hours of running in armour, marching for days and fighting with little sleep but no training could help him to resist the onslaught of the small kobold. Being pent up and tired beyond belief also didn’t give him any advantage over the ten inch tongue assaulting his uncut cock, slipping underneath his foreskin and teasing the pink head, scraping every last drop of sweat and pre on his sensitive flesh. He wated as she pressed her nostrils against the root of his cock, huffing and sniffing his scent, her tongue slipping away so that her small hands were the only thing pumping up and down, her mouth opening and taking in his balls. Dorian arched his back, feeling just a hint of teeth against his skin as she suckled upon his sack, her tongue protecting it as they rolled in her mouth and got a slick massage.

She stared at him with the look of someone who knew exactly how far and how much she had pushed him, how long he could last and she decided to push him until he couldn’t bear it anymore. Dorian huffed and grunted, clutching the sheets for support as she assaulted him in every way possible, her nose greedily huffing his scent as he worked up a sweat just trying to last one more minute. When he finally gave in, his shaft throbbed one last time and fired a thick rope that flew in the air, splattering all over her muzzle and his crotch, dense and salty over her tongue as she licked herself clean. Rope after rope, Dorian’s sack twitched and fired one more, turning the air a little more heated, a little more musky and her muzzle a little more messy until his cock flopped on the bridge of her snout, leaking a few last drops while she licked his balls clean, milking what little he had left before opening his mouth to let him see his load sloshing in there. She stood up, revealing the massive wet patch under her rump and spread her legs. Her vent was puffy, slick and heated, her hands making her moan once she plunged them within, the lewd sounds of her digits ravaging her sex echoing above his pants and gasps for air. The kobold didn’t swallow his spunk, she played with it, let him watch the strands, the columns between her tongue and the roof of her mouth while she masturbated over him, her legs twitching until she swallowed and moaned louder and louder. Her vent twitched and sprayed his crotch, a fruity scent spreading to fight the stench of sweat and sex around the two, her hands playing with the sensitive lips of her slit for long seconds.

She collapsed on his chest, heaving, her vent leaking her own brand of fluids over his beyond soaked crotch, her tongue lolling out on his skin, lapping beads of sweat as her tail curled around his leg and held herself closer to the human.

Morning came quickly and already the innkeeper wanted to have him work, light stuff but he wasn’t going to let the injured knight spend the time between then and full healing doing nothing. He’d take the chance to learn the workings of the inn and the city, all the profits made in between going as payment for the lodging and medicine.

“The inn is special in the sense that it’s not fixed to one location. The door at the front can be accessed by several locations according to the innkeeper’s will or if the customer wants to exit to somewhere far, far from here.” Kor led Dorian through the hallways, the inside of the building far more vast and complex than one could imagine. After several doors, the two ended up in a garden, the sky above bright and partially covered by trees heavy with fruits. The city was nowhere to be seen around them, even beyond the short wall that closed the garden. It was as if this small plot was planted right in the middle of an empty field, a forest visible from the distance blocking the horizon. “This is a grassland a few miles away from here, the garden is where guests can eat their breakfast and get some fresh air. You can’t leave from here since there are some spells blocking exit and entry. It’s good for keeping those who think they can skip meals in and get the beasts who want to get in to stay out.” She handed him a basket and a ladder. “I’m short so you go ahead and gather fruits. If you gather more than ten baskets you may sell them to the local market and use them to pay your tab… or you can keep them and pay me for another happy ending tonight, how’s that sound?” She cocked her hips and stuck out her tongue. Dorian gulped, swearing it had gotten hotter all of a sudden. She still smelled of sex as if she hadn’t taken a bath after leaving him the morning after, her vent still slick and coated in her arousal. “Or save up for a few days and be able to afford some more… fun massages.” Kor chuckled, using her tail to balance herself as she pressed her feet over his crotch and kneaded the already stiffening chub inside his pants.

“I’m good… thanks.” Dorian stepped back and blushed. The kobold rolled her eyes, mumbling about cheapskates, her legs still stretched, her vent spread just enough for the man to stare at the soft pink flesh within. He rushed to work, shoving his head inside a peach tree’s canopy to avoid looking even a second longer.

“As you wish. I’ll leave you to your duties then.”

Dorian adjusted his pants once he was sure that she was gone and then went on to pick fruits, one by one, basket after basket. As for selling them, he had no idea where to go: the city was wide and complex and after he had gone out with a couple of crates’ worth of weirdly coloured pears and litchee, the knight realized for the first time just how weird Tra’Daa was. In the first five seconds he was almost trampled by a minotaur big enough to be a troll, adding the offense of almost being smacked in the head by the hybrid’s low hanging nuts. A second later a wizard on a broom flew above him and crashed into a different wizard going the opposite direction, both of which trying to avoid a gold coloured pigeon after it had flown out of a window from one of the houses of the street. Dorian rushed inside the inn immediately and, full of shame, asked Kor to help him survive the trip to the market.

The profit, as the kobold pointed out so subtly, were enough to exchange another blowjob from her skilled mouth, or if the knight wanted, he could stick his cock between her asscheeks and hump till he blew his load on her back. The knight rolled his eyes at her words but kept them in mind, mostly for curiosity.

The next day things weren’t that much different: he woke up, ate breakfast in the garden, which Fyr added to the tab, collected more fruits and sold them. Then one more day and one more trip to the market. That night some customers arrived at long last, two elves that got drunk beyond what he had thought two beings a thousand years old should and tossed them out of the front door, restraining them until a few of what he guessed were policemen arrived and took them away. The bonus for acting as impromptu guard earned him a bit of an extra on his ‘pay’. Kor wasted no time in offering her services yet again. Dorian accepted.

Less than an hour after a new salve had been applied to his wounds, the human was on his bed again, the kobold kneeling in front of him as his cock thrust between her thighs, warmed by her hot slit as she bent over and licked his tip every time it poked through her thicker-than-normal legs. Her open mouth let drool drip over the bed, her breath heavy as his thrusts stimulated her vent until she reached her climax before him, clamping her thighs around his shaft and dousing his flesh in hot honey. Locked and teased, the knight grunted and came as well, his load shot straight into her mouth and across her snout again, the lewd kobold swallowing it as he watched, rubbing her palms on her chest with what was left of his seed. And again she curled up in his embrace, kissing him deeply, sharing the taste of his load, her tongue filling his mouth entirely.

“Can I ask one thing?”

“Sure Dorian.” Kor licked her lips, his taste still strong. Curled up on his chest like that allowed her to make full use of his heat, warming herself up just enough to relax.

“Why do you work for Fyr? I mean, this place barely has customers, there are hundreds of empty rooms and no one comes. How is he supposed to pay you… or me?”

“That’s a complicated question. Fyr has connection, he uses them to make the most profits even while customers are few but I can’t tell you who or what for now. Tomorrow maybe.”

“Why tomorrow?”

“You’re healed, we just need to do some physical therapy to know for sure, maybe get a few ‘tests’ to know how good a knight you are. Then you may accompany Fyr to harvest ingredients in the forest.”

“Is that how he makes his money? The inn is just a side business?”

“Yes and no.”

“You’re really not helping here Kor.”

“You’ll understand tomorrow.” She chuckled. “In the meantime do you want to know how a footjob from a kobold feels? Or I could even just press them against your face and let you feel them. Costs a bit more if you want me to get a bit of a sweat on though, but I’m told by some of my clients it’s worth.”

“I’m good.” He looked at her, she looked at him and at the still stiff boner between his legs. “I’ve got no money.”

“I can put it on a special sex tab just for you.” Kor licked his neck, her hand reaching lower and lower, drawing a line on his chest until he stopped her. “Fine.” She huffed. “I used to work with dragons once, you know? Squire for a dragon rider a few months of travel to the east. Then the knight rider found out I was tending to his prized stud of a mount in ways our contract did not include and he fired me.” Dorian stared at her with a confused expression. “I was getting railed by the dragon, hard.” He rolled his eyes and sighed, she huffed to show her annoyance. “What? Dragons are a kobold’s natural master, purebred ones at least. While I do not serve a dragon like some other kobolds because I do not want to eventually get on the bad side of some crusade to get said dragon’s hoard, I still appreciate every kind of dragon.” The knight stared at the ceiling, caressing her back. “They are great beings, they fuck hard and cum lots and they taste so good. I sucked so much dragon cock and huffed so many dragons’ sweaty balls I can tell if one has been near a dragon. . Purebred, feral… weredragons too. ” Dorian froze, the corner of his eye noticing she was staring at him now. “I guess you must have been a dragon rider because you reek of dragon all they way down to this bad boy between your legs.” Her feet curled, cupping his cock and balls, stroking and massaging them. “I get such a rush when I am with you…”

“Oh… o-oh yes, yes… dragon rider…” His heart started to race. He had forgotten why he had been on the run since the past couple days had been so relaxing. It was also her fault. She was too good.

As the next day arrived Dorian could not shake a sense of worry from his heart because of what she had said. How much she knew, what had she found out about him. What was she going to do to him after throwing him that piece of bait? He spent most of the morning doing small chores again, moving stuff, some deliveries that could have cost him his life for the umpteenth time. Then evening came and he was asked to come to the garden for his exercises.

“Good evening Dorian.”

“Fyr…” the two nodded at each other.

“So, for the past few days you’ve been healing and it’s going great. I can see you’re in almost perfect shape thanks to Kor’s touch, in more ways than one as per her usual.” The man giggled, shooting the knight a knowing glance and a thumbs up. Dorian felt that it was extremely unnecessary, mostly because Fyr had made sure the two had enjoyed themselves by repeatedly asking how many times they had done it every day. “But now we’re going to get to the juicy part and the reason why I hired you to work in this here inn.” Dorian stared at the man who smiled back at him. “Now, don’t jump on me and wait for a few moments, I just need to explain a few things.” The knight’s legs tensed, ready to dash and fight. “We know you’re a weredragon and that you’re on the run from hunters.” Dorian’s hand reached for the sword at his waist out of habit, realizing too late he had none. Still, he backed away slowly.

“How long?”

“Since you stepped foot though the gates of the city.” Fyr simply stated, but the knight felt his legs turn to jelly. He had come to Tra’Daa to hide, to make sure he’d be safe, and yet he had been observed the entire time? He could have been attacked any moment, any day and he’d have never realized why. Dorian paled, blood draining from his face as he started to sweat. “Please calm down.”

“I’ll give you ten seconds and then I’ll punch your face in and make a run for it.”

“You won’t make it ten feet out of this inn Dorian, trust me. I am the only thing that stands between you and being turned into a crate of potions in an archmage’s cellar.” Fyr kept smiling, barely fazed by the threats. He sat down and sipped on his evening drink as the moon rose above the three in the garden. “You asked Kor how we make money to make the inn keep functioning despite having little to no customers, right? Well, it’s a fairly complicated matter but it’s also really easy when it comes down to it.” Fyr opened his arms and waved at the garden. “Think about where we are and who you are.” Dorian looked at him with a confused expression. “Alright, what was the job as I promised you?”

“Go to the forest, harvest beast hides, teeth… scales…” Dorian froze. “Are you going to kill me and take my scales?”

“Oh, not at all dear Dorian.” The innkeeper smiled. “That was what would have happened had I not made a pact with the archmages and grand wizards of Tra’Daa. Long story short, I welcome beings into my inn, heal them, give them shelter and in exchange they pay with scales, fur, the occasional pint of blood and what have you. This way they get to live and the archmages get their dragon scales and gryphon feathers and all the other ingredients.” Dorian stood straighter, more confused but somewhat more at ease. “That is how we make money: by giving mages their precious ingredients without killing anyone or anything. Renewable market strategy so to speak.” Fyr chuckled. “I’m sure you had the same idea: you’d go into the woods, transform during a full moon and come back with scales, fangs and whatever to sell to me.” The knight twitched. “Happened a lot before I came around, you know?”

“So it was all word play? Me ‘hunting’ for ingredients in the forest, with me being the ingredient?” Dorian sighed and Kor chuckled from her end of the show, wagging her tail happily. “And this whole setup, the garden where no beast can come in and no ‘non-paying guest’ can go out, is it also to ensure your profits?” His expression darkened as he tried to open the door that led to the inside of the building and found it locked. “Had I refused to work under you, would you have killed me?”

“No, that’s dumb. Can’t have a weredragon return if I try to pry scales off his hide. This is a relationship based on trust and not force.”

“Is that why Kor had sex with me? To make me put my guard down and trust you?”

“Nah, that’s just her being a horny kobold. She told you about being kicked out of the dragon rider corps because she was found snorting feral dragons’ balls and having them blow their loads up her vent instead of inside hens in heat?” Kor chuckled louder, legs spread to show the knight her slick vent as she rubbed its lips. “She just loves dragons, or sex in general. I have her as a nurse cause she’s got a proper license.”

“Yeah I’ve been… made aware of both of those things…” Dorian sighed deeply, slumping on a bench. All his strength left him and now only a sense of defeat and relief fought over his heart. “So what now? I take the exercises were just an excuse.”

“We’re still going to do those, got to know if you’re healed all the way. However, we’re gonna need you to do it in dragon form.”

“It’s not the right time, full moon’s due in two weeks. If I could have just changed I would have never gotten in this situation.”

“Don’t worry, we’ve got that part covered. You just need to relax and do your thing.” Fyr tossed a bottle of oils to Kor who walked over to Dorian and started smearing it on his skin. The knight was once more confused, his breathing heavy still from the rush of adrenaline from earlier, staring at the evening sky. Then the moon he was under blurred, swelling and filling up, turning from half full to a perfect round circle. “There we go, setting’s complete.”

“Wait wh… what…” Dorian gasped as heat flowed through his veins, warming his chest and making his heart race faster and faster. “This isn’t supposed to happen… it’s not even close to a full moon!” And yet he couldn’t stop staring at the one above him so hard he didn’t notice that his clothes were starting to stretch, slowly tearing at the seams and turning into fine strands as his body swelled.

“And that’s the magic of… well, magic. Just relax.”

Dorian growled, his throat swelling with a red hot glow, steam rising from his body as cracks and pops echoed in the garden. He took deep breaths, every time he exhaled steam wafted onto the ground, a cloud forming around him, bigger and bigger as he got bigger and bigger himself. A loud crack made his head snap backwards, his back arched, muscles swelling in his chest, broadening, thickening. His skin quickly started to turn blue, a bright cobalt that spread from the tip of his fingers to the tip of his ears, breaking into a billion scales that glittered like a mosaic under the magical moonlight. He growled again, teeth sharpening, his mouth turning into a muzzle to fit all the new fangs, nostrils sinking into the skull, closing and blasting one more cloud of hot ashy smoke. The knight looked at the two with slitted golden eyes, his point of view higher and higher, every second his muscles swelling to match the growth of his bones. Snaps and cracks, cracks and the heavier thud of his steps, then the deafening thump as his hips and shoulders snapped, forcing him to stand on all fours.

Kor looked from the side, her legs spread wide, her tongue slipping between her fingers as she licked them clean after plunging them into her slit, her tail filling their void, slick sounds of pleasure overpowered by the huffs of the weredragon. She looked at him with clear lust, her breath just as hot as his. Fyr smiled, adjusting his pants before standing up and leaving the garden, closing the door behind him.

Dorian grew and grew, bigger, wider, taller and stronger. Within two minutes he was once again as tall as he had been as a human, three minutes and he was towering at nine feet, twice as long without counting the tail lashing left and right, slamming into trees around him. She licked her lips and kept watching, the dragon too busy speeding up the process by staring at the moon to care that the kobold was twitching on the bench right next to him, her vent clamping down her digits after every orgasm. As the beast kept on transforming and growing, a strong, heady scent followed, a bit like sweat, a bit like the scent of a man that just had sex, musky and dense, virile even from that far. It didn’t take too long for them to notice that the dragon was forced to stand with his legs spread out a bit more than normal, and all because of something in between. While pure dragons had external genitalia, one of the many ways to prove their pure blood, weredragons had their equipment nicely hidden, maybe help from mother nature to aid in the transformation, maybe just a quirk of their species. This weredragon however, well, he seemed to be somewhere in between.

The two bulging shapes right behind his slit were not quite a ballsack and not quite like a regular slit, definitely male, definitely carrying spunk worthy of a dragon but big enough to make them look like regular balls. Kor licked her lips, staring at that pair with hunger when Dorian didn’t look back at them. For an internal pair to be showing and appearing to be external, they had to be absolutely massive, so densely packed with cum and so heavy it must have been uncomfortable for the dragon to walk without popping a boner. This close his scent was overwhelming, reminding the man of a locker room full of horny men after a game, and to her of a pen of feral dragons right before the start of the rut. He smelled of sex, of sweat and of lust, and yet he didn’t look horny or even aroused, as if his natural scent was so dense and potent to make him appear to be in rut. Kor made no attempts to hide her infatuation with that scent, her nostrils flaring as wide as the could get, huffing deeply. He had smelled good before as a human, now that musk she had just barely picked up with her snout shoved against the root of his cock was practically forcing itself down her lungs. And still her eyes kept going back to his backside, staring at his taint and the bulging shapes sloshing right underneath the scaly flesh. And still he was growing bigger.

A few minutes later he finally stretched, his back arched like a cat’s, wings spread and beating weakly to fan himself, pushing the cloud of smoke around himself, and, incidentally, also blasting Kor with all the musk and sweat he had not already subjected her to. The were dragon trotted, what was left of his bandages flopping on the grass, his claws leaving deep marks all over. Once he was done with his stretch, Dorian grunted and lifted his leg, staring at his backside and huffing with a hint of an annoyed tone, as if finding the two massive churning spheres still making him walk funny was not something he wished to see.

At that point Kor called for him to lay on his back and give him a closer look, her steps leaving behind a trail of fruity droplets that were lost in the cloud of male arousal and sweat he had just laid out for her to walk through. The kobold grabbed her bag and closed in, tapping with a hammer here and there to test reflexes, looking at the state of his scale and whatnot. She was careful, gentle and precise, not letting a single wound or nicked scale be forgotten. As the smell of herbs wafted into the air, Dorian relaxed, his muscles at rest and his breathing slow and steady. The faint feeling of warmth although had yet to fade completely, his chest hot and glowing. He looked over her, watching silently the kobold using her hands to rub salves and whatnot on the last of his injuries. She ran here and there, vaulting over limbs the size of her torso with ease until there were no more wounds to tend to and the medicine bottle had run dry, which she tossed on the ground along with the bag. The dragon looked at her with confusion as she did not leave, instead slowly inching her way to his front and grabbing one of his paws. There was some more staring, some deep, long looks between the two, one smiling, the other rather confused.

It was a touch at first, then a light pressure on his pads. Dorian wasn’t quite sure what to do: was it a massage? Why? Why now and why his paws? Kor kept on pressing her small hands on his pads, kneading and making the dragon feel quite conflicted about the whole thing. And then the lithe kobold opened her mouth, tongue lolling out, and licked his pads. Dorian gasped, shocked, weirded out, even more confused, unable to find words to describe what was happening. He merely watched, eyes wide open as the kobold sitting on his paw licked it, her tongue sliding over his pads, over his digits and left slimy messy trails of saliva everywhere. He could push her away, he could tell her to stop, he could get up and move at any moment and it’d be over and yet he didn’t, he let her stay, he let her rub her hands and shove her tongue in the crevices between his toes. She looked at him from time to time, her eyes full of that glint of excitement, sometimes hiding behind one of his toes, sometimes shoving her head in between and taking whiffs of his scent. Every time Dorian felt hotter and more embarrassed, and still he didn’t stop her. She licked, massaged, huffed and ground her hips on his pads, letting him feel the slickness of her vent as it oozed.

Before long he realized that the scent of herbs had been heavily suppressed by something far less fragrant, something far more lewd, indecent and somehow far more fitting to the situation. The heavy scent of sex, lust and his own excitement. Dorian blushed, part of him ashamed he was even enjoying something as… unconventional as having a kobold do that to his foot, some other part quite interested in what the little thing had in store for him next.

“Dragons always have a soft spot for their paws…” Kor smiled, or maybe it was more of a grin. She hugged one of his digits, her hips rocking back and forth, her tongue still out and lapping beads of sweat from the gaps between scales. “Well dear, you smell quite ready so if you’re up to it we can move on to something more fun.” Dorian gulped. “Or I could reeeeallly drag this out, do all of your paws.” The dragon shook his head, blushing some more. For werebeast to feel this pressured by something that small, it was quite the sight. “Fine… let’s leave that for another time, with a discount possibly if what comes next is fun enough…” The kobold chuckled, giving the dragon’s paw one last good sniff, her body shivering for a moment before turning around and walking over to the slick, bubbling brook that was the werebeast’s own slit. Pre spilled out every second, a slick, musky river of lust that made his scale glisten even more, spreading on the grass like a musky puddle. “My…” Kor licked her lips, gently putting her hand on the puffy, swollen lips of the male slit. Dorian hissed, gasping to catch some air at the sudden feeling of a warm hand on his flesh, a gush of precum turning said hand in a sticky mess. “Oh stars above this is… messy…” She sat on his belly, facing his tail, her own lifted so that the dragon could stare at her, turning around to let him look her licking her fingers clean of his pre. “Lords above how long has it been since you got laid? You smell… you taste so damn pent up it’s insane…”

The kobold murred, the taste of his lust so strong on her tongue she shivered from it alone, her nostrils flaring over and over, taking in the raw scent of a male dozens of times her size. She leaned closer to his slit, now pressing her snout upon it and took a whiff, immediately shivering harder, her legs twitching, tongue slipping out to lap at every gush of precum from that puffy opening, her hands roaming on his lower belly. But that was not her goal: as much as she wanted to stay there, licking his slit and drinking his precum as it sprang forth like a mountain river from cracks in the rock, she wanted something far more unique. Just beyond his slit, she could see his nuts, resting deep inside him and yet showing like lewd prizes under a veil put there just to tease anyone stealing a peek. She rested her slit on his, feeling him spill pre into her depths, turning them even slicker with his lust as she bent down and shoved her tiny snout between those bulges. Kor took a deep, deep breath, her lungs immediately burning with a scent so heady and so strong right at its source she thought she’d shoved her head into a rag that had been used to clean a hundred dragons straight out of a breeding session. Each orb was far bigger than her head, her hands couldn’t even make a dent into them if she tried seriously, telling of the sheer amount of spunk packed inside. She licked them, nuzzled them, hugged each under the increasingly aroused dragon who carried them around. Her nose was full of his musk, her tongue tingling with his taste, roaming over his nuts, always finding a muskier, tastier spot, the crevice in between the best of all. Again she shoved her head in there, huffing, licking, greedily drinking of his stench. She could probably curl up and sleep in between them if she tried.

“MMmmhh…” Kor murred again, eyes rolling back for a brief moment before collapsing on him. “Lords above… you’re beyond pent up… a musk so strong… it’s a first even for me…” She moaned, her voice muffled by the fat balls she was buried in. “I have shoved my nose against dragons in the middle of their rut, licked their balls clean and still they smell like water compared to you…” Another sniff, her tongue lolled out, scraping beads of sweat bigger than her nails. “This is the fattest pair I have ever seen… were they outside they’d probably be four foot wide, no… more… gods above you’d look amazing with a regular pair swinging between your knees…” She could imagine it so clearly, thanks to the stench wafting into her lungs every breath she took: this blue beast, walking around with a sheath the size of his own thigh, balls as big as a catapult boulder swinging heavily with every step, a dozen dragonesses all crowding around them and still not being able to cover every inch of those mammoth orbs with their tongues…

“We-well…” Dorian gulped, doing his best to regain some of his dignity as a knight and failing so miserably it was almost funny, desperately trying to pretend he hadn’t enjoyed having a kobold sniff his foot and then his balls and slit, or watching her orgasm from the taste and smell of his need alone. “It’s true I don’t have time to transform and let loose more than once a year but… well, that’s how I am normally…” Her head rested on top of the two churning spheres, the vibrations of their endless, virile, insane production so strong she could feel them rocking her core. Had she not been unbelievably horny, had the musk not soaked to her bones and made her even needier than the time she had licked a dozen males clean after their turn with fertile females once the human she served had left, she might have fallen asleep at the lulling yet terrifyingly strong tremor of his cum factories.

“Oh my…” Kor moaned, her hands now circling around the puffy lips of his sex, prodding barely over an inch inside, marvelling at the slickness, the heat, the vice of his walls desperately trying to hold back as she teased and teased. “A dragon’s lust is something to behold, I know it firsthand but you take the cake.” She smiled, her tongue plunging down his slit for a brief, incredible moment. “I bet you can just go for hours and not even tire, but every orgasm you have in human form is but a fraction of what you can do as a dragon.” Dorian gulped, he knew something about those kinds of details from a dragon’s biology but not much. Kor resumed her teasing, shoving her entire hand inside his slit, reaching deeper and deeper only to pull back before her fingertips touched the tip of his shaft hidden deep inside. Precum bubbled out of the fat lips like running water and by the time the kobold had shoved her entire arm inside, the entire garden reeked of his lust, like a curtain of heated, musky, wet need. “You’re still so tense dear… relax… even if you knock me up by accident I’d call it a win for both of us. As long as I get to see, to taste, to bathe myself in years of pure dragon spunk, then I’d gladly let you pump all the eggs in me.”

Dorian growled, his slit tightening for a second, his lust escaping what little control he had over himself just enough to let the tip of his cock peak from his sex. Kor licked her lips, running her fingers on that single inch of dragon flesh, already about as thick as her thumb. And it was just the tip. The kobold opened her mouth and kissed his slit, that inch of shaft nestled in her maw, forcing her to gulp down precum every second as the pent up dragon tried to resist and keep his cool. Then she started to suckle on his cock, as if she was nursing from it, moaning, squirming, her hands forgetting the plump lips of his sex to tend to her own.

The weredragon huffed, his breath washing over her entire body, warming her up even more. He craned his neck, mouth open ever so slightly, tongue slipping out more and more, far longer than her own, far thicker and more nimble. She felt him come, she was prepared, parting the lips of her slit for him to taste and plunge into. The tight tunnel tried to grip his tongue, to hold him down, but he had strength and size, forcing himself deeper, deeper, her vent seemingly endless. No matter how much tongue he jammed within, he could shove more and she took every last inch, every last foot of the broad, thick organ until his maw parted around her rump. Kor had not stopped licking, suckling or teasing his own slit, not even as her belly started to bulge from the sheer length of dragon tongue wracking her vent, tunnel and egg chamber. Dorian suspected there was magic involved, a weird aftertaste deep under the overwhelming flavour of her lust and the clogging stench of his musk. Nothing so small should have taken something like that and yet she had and begged for more. He wanted to see just how far he could push her, how much she could take.

And just like that his last shred of resistance broke. A simple desire to see how much cock a small kobold could take, but it was enough to let his body take charge. Kor was not as prepared for what came after: first a second inch, then a whole foot and then two, the werebeast growing hard in her mouth, turning her throat into a tight sleeve for so much cock she couldn’t believe there was more and more and more still resting in his slit. The beast felt his own tip through the slick walls of her womb, gushing precum in her stomach, so tightly caressed by kobold flesh. Kor hung like that for a few minutes, letting him ravish her vent with his tongue, letting him use her throat to dump his precum down her gullet, letting him lift her up and see as her belly swelled with pre alone. Just as she was about to push herself off, he started thrusting.

She felt the ridges on the underside of his cock slip in and out of her mouth, the sheer girth of that shaft enhanced by nearly a dozen of those thick ridges that made it pleasurable for him and her alike. His tongue was still so deeply lodged in her egg chamber, her mouth spread in a wide O around him, her body lifted far above ground, but not too far from his belly as her own swelled, sloshed, filled and grew, the mass of precum alone making her look as if she had been pregnant with a massive clutch. She could taste the seed, she relished in it, she swallowed what little came up from the pressure of his pre, she lapped that cock as best as she could, the deep rich taste it had and lost herself in it. If even a drop of this stuff ended up in her womb she’d be so heavily pregnant it’d take her out of commission for months but she wanted to feel him inside her egg chamber, she wanted to feel him dump every last drop of spunk inside her and she wanted to know just how big she could swell from his eggs. Lost in the train of thought, the kobold failed to sense the signs of an orgasm, too full already, too busy picturing herself as big as a house, too busy slathering that slab of a cock with her tongue, her hands massaging what little they could encompass. But the best thing was that, whenever he thrusted all the way down, her snout bumped into his nuts. Over and over again, her snout was assaulted by the stronger, denser musk that wafted from those orbs, their churning harder and harder, a small earthquake reaching the surface right in front of her eyes and inside her gullet.

His orgasm came as a surprise, a punch to her gut so hard he came. The first cumshot felt like tar, impossibly dense and impossibly heavy. Her belly had grown to several feet wide already, worthy of a broodmother of a bigger species and that single first shot in a single second had made her swell to double the size. The next second tripled her circumference. Then again, again and again, her throat dancing with every thrust, every pump every dozen gallons racing, bloating that cock as it desperately crammed her gut so full of cum she couldn’t imagine she’d ever be back to normal even with potions. And all the while he was pumping her full, the werebeast kept on eating her out, drinking her own orgasms, his tongue wriggling in her chamber, hitting every spot she had by sheer size, her taste heavy on his tongue as his taste was overwhelming every taste bud on hers.

He pulled out after a few minutes, by then Kor was little more than a balloon sloshing with his spunk, her eyes rolled back in pleasure. The slick sounds of ridges popping out one by one overtook the sounds of his orgasm for a few seconds, her moans audible at last, only to be instantly drowned by the first spurt outside her body. The splash echoed in the garden, like a waterfall crashing down on rocks and trees, painting swathes of land white and coating them with impossibly thick seed. Over and over, pump after pump after pump, as if the countless gallons weighting the kobold down weren’t enough already. The weredragon rolled on his side, tongue lolling out at long last, slick with saliva and the kobold’s fluids alike, his paws reaching for his cock and stroking it, making it shake left and right with wild abandon, the spray of his seed messier, sparing no tree or blade of grass for dozens of feet around them. Kor simply laid there, ten feet above ground, her mouth leaking cum by the gallon, doing her best to hold it in.

He just kept on cumming, now standing up so that he could grab his shaft with one paw and thrust in his own grasp, ridges popping along the pads she had licked and worshipped before. Dorian grunted, huffed, his spunk splattering on trees without any end in sight, his reserves endless and always thick and dense as the first shot. Fortunately, or unfortunately, even a dragon had to stop at some point, in this case, ten minutes later. The garden was silent, mostly silent, drops of cum falling into puddles of the stuff that flowed into small lakes. The air felt heavy, stuffy, thick and unbearably hot to the point even Dorian was sweating heavily, beads of sweat big enough to fill a human’s cupped hand running down his scales, coating his thighs and adding to the steamy cover that his lust had created.

He turned around and looked at Kor, who had managed to hold her meal down to some degree, her lips smacking as she tasted his spunk thoroughly, relishing in the thickness of it.

“Now that was an orgasm worthy of a dragon…” Kor chuckled, resting her hands on her belly, patting it from time to time, something that made it wobble ever so slightly, hundreds of gallons of pure spunk sloshing madly in her guts.

“Can we go again?”

“Wait… what?” Kor blinked a few times, looked around herself again: the garden had been hosed with spunk, the air reeked of dragon seed and was so heavily laden with musk she knew she’d smell it for the next month or so, her belly was ten times her size if not more and firmly planted in a foot deep pond. “You’re not done?” He nodded. “Oh I’ll be damned…” For a moment she thought she might have bitten more than she could chew but the mere idea that this dragon had ruined her and the garden so much and still had more to give was magnificent. Her vent ached so empty while her stomach was so, so full.

“I’ll pay but… I can’t… stop now… it’s been so long I can’t just stop now…” Dorian huffed, his paw still gripping his cock, cum oozing out in a steady stream despite him having stopped cumming. As he let go of his shaft, it sunk under it’s own weight, so heavy not even the steel hard flesh could stand alone, beads of sweat, saliva and spunk clinging to his ridges. The not-so-little kobold chuckled, her womb already tingling in anticipation. She wasn’t even in heat and she was sure he’d knock her up ten times over if the taste of his spunk was any indication of just how packed with swimmers it was. Dorian didn’t say anything else, staring down at the cum balloon of a kobold, shifting the weight between his feet in a moment of nervousness as she weighted his words. There were a hundred reasons why she should have said no or at least asked to wait a few hours for her belly so shrink, but every time she looked at him, every movement of his cock, so immensely heavy, so deliciously thick.

“Oh come here and fuck me, stud. I don’t even care if you knock me up at this point. I just want to see, to feel you cum inside me.” Kor murred and patted her belly one last time.

The werebeast took that as a signal, his eyes locking on her backside as he circled around her. The air around him was even more dense with lust, a second skin made of pure musk and need that she hadn’t felt even when an entire stable of dragons went into rut. Her hand reached for it, brushing her fingertips on it, scraping thick wads of cum just before he was out of her reach. Once again she felt his tongue slide inside her vent, not wasting a single moment to plunge as deep as it could go only to abruptly pull back, leaving a void in her tunnel that was filled with a couple feet of hot, throbbing dragon flesh. She moaned, the sheer heat of it reaching her core almost instantaneously, adding to the heat of his spunk sloshing in her belly, which started to wobble wildly from that weak thrust. For a moment she thought he’d take it slow, enjoy the tightness of her vent, sample each foot crammed into her like fine wine but no, the next thrust brought his hips against her haunches, a single push managing to put every last one of his ten feet of rock hard dragon flesh into a kobold barely half as tall. Kor screamed, her lungs emptying as she came with enough force to make the dragon huff at the increased tightness of the sleeve he had claimed, her legs twitching madly, her vent impossibly stretched far too quickly. She was glad she had taken potions to ensure her safety but even with those she felt the sheer heft of that cock as if she hadn’t taken any at all. His ridges danced in her tunnel, expanding, contracting, scraping against flesh far more sensitive than her throat, her womb on fire as the first gallons of precum spilled inside. The bulge of his tip reached her chest and then went well beyond, allowing her to stare as it squirmed, every spurt of thick pre expanding her belly further.

That was about as much a preparation as she was going to get. His forelimbs planted themselves to each side of her head, sinking into the ground, rending stone and dirt into fine powders, his muscles bulging in preparation of what was going to be a mad rush. He pulled back, foot after foot after foot scraping her walls, making her cum every time a ridge thicker than her legs popped lewdly out of her vent, his cock so long it never left her womb even once it had been pulled out almost completely, never ceasing its mission to fill her even more. And he pushed forward, the sensation of being spread, filled, stretched and used renewed and strengthened, a cluster of orgasm wracking her body in a short few seconds before he pulled back yet again and started to pick up speed. The cum in her gut sloshed, wobbling like a balloon, gushing out of her nostrils and mouth with every thrust, every impact of his haunches on her rump, slowly emptying her. However, she didn’t shrink in size, rather, she started growing, the cum she spilled from her muzzle replaced twice over by his precum, bubbling hotter and hotter in her womb. And again she fell deeper in love with the orbs that were pumping all that inside her, crashing down against her rump like boulders every second, heavier than before, denser than before, bigger and bigger still.

She was utterly lost, his cock crammed inside her, his seed filling her, his scent heavy around her nostrils and his taste still on her tongue, renewed every time she opened her mouth to breathe and lick his scales covered in salty sweat. Buried under a mountain of dragon muscle, pumped with dozens upon dozens of gallons of hot precum that would have knocked the entire city up by itself, feeling his bulk on her back, his cock inside her, Kor wished her contraceptive potion would fail, she regretted even taking it now in case it might work.

Dorian huffed, his tongue lolling out, drooling on the end of his lover’s belly that poked from his front legs, strands clinging to her stretched scales, her insides churned by his cock over and over again. She was tight and stretchy at the same time, a glove tailored to fit his shaft to perfection, every crevice his ridges caressed, every inch he stretched even more by shoving the last few inches of his cock inside, the perfect his slit kissed hers in a lewd, messy union of puffy, slick lips. His muscles started to burn in a lovely way, proof of just how much he had been putting into his thrusts, as if the holes where his paws were and the crater he had dug as every push moved the swollen kobold farther away from where he had first pinned her down. Yards of pristine grass had been uprooted, the ten foot wide trench made by her belly slick with what little had leaked from her slit and the gallons and gallons she had spilled from her mouth. The dragon was so heated up he could barely believe that he hadn’t set fire to something by breathing too hard on a tree, but maybe the sheer dampness his cum shower had brought to the garden was mitigating the heat of his body. Time was lost to him and her as he dumped more and more and more precum in her womb, the immense load he had shot before now eclipsed by the flow of pre, her womb swollen to twelve feet and then some, pushing him upwards ever so slightly now. He felt as if he could have kept fucking her, using her like this for the entire night, forgetting about the ache in his thighs and the burning of his lungs as oxygen laden with so much musk and sweat he could taste his own undertail as if he had been curled and licking his tailhole after a run.

He wanted it to never end, she was so perfect for his cock he couldn’t imagine anyone else but his first lover to rival such a stretchy hole. But his body couldn’t take as much as his mind and gave up, betraying him: his hips thrust forward one last time, their slits kissing, the base of his cock swelling almost as if he had a knot, his breath stolen from him for long seconds as a tide prepared to rush out of his length. Kor didn’t feel him shudder and shiver, but she did feel him twitch for a while, and then she felt him grow inside her, as if the ten feet of pure draconic cockflesh weren’t enough already. She came hard, still unable to see the tip of the mammoth cock but knowing it had grown bigger, thicker longer with the promise of something amazing just for her. He felt the first shot of his second orgasm rise from his depths all the way to the tip slowly, or maybe it had happened in a fraction of a second, he wasn’t quite sure how long a second was supposed to last anymore. He knew that it had no right to feel this good. Every inch of his cock bloated further once the ride rushed out of his utterly packed nuts, ridges doubling in size as blood concentrated there, his heart thumping hard enough for Kor to feal each individual beat before the impact of his cumshot stole her breath as well and knocked every last shred of restraint in her small body. Dorian’s cocktip had been lost in a sloshing mountain of kobold womb, but the spurt stretched it further still, the impact audible through a dozen feet of precum roiling like a tide. One short, endless second later her belly was pushing him upwards, thirteen feet, fifteen, seventeen, twenty and more, the dragon barely acknowledging the fact that he was quickly starting to stand on his hindlegs while his first cumshot was still going strong. A second spurt followed before he was done with the one before, doubling his pleasure and the flow of cum, tar thick but forced out at impossible speed and amounts by the sheer volumes still waiting behind. Her womb swelled to thirty feet and then a third cumshot raced out of his loins, knocking him and her off balance, his body collapsing on top of hers, his chest smothering her entirely but resting on her still swelling egg chamber. He couldn’t do anything, every ounce of energy he had left after fucking her into the ground for dozens of yards now concentrated on dumping every last drop of cum into her.

Forty feet tall, even more wide, the first two pumps started to abate, only for the one still going to strengthen and force his cock to widen to accept hundreds of gallons every couple of seconds. The impact of every last one of those gallons could be still heard clearly atop their grunts and moans. Fifty feet tall her womb swelled, Dorian felt his fourth cumshot push out. He was resting atop a mountain of his own making, the warmth of his cum sloshing beneath him, like a bed made of living, moaning kobold who screamed for more and more still. Maybe ten seconds later or an hour, he felt another load being dumped, followed by two more in quick succession, unbelievable amounts of cum rocketing out of his tip and into his lover. Her orgasms couldn’t be counted, too fast, too many, too mind-numbing to be counted even if she were to try while his could be counted easily, just not how many pools of cum he was pumping out. Sixty feet above ground, the weredragon slowly fell asleep, his cock swelling over and over within her stretched vent.

Waking up was almost as shocking as discovering he hadn’t softened much or finding that it was morning and the sun was up. He was jerked awake by the moaning beneath him. He stood, or tried to, thus finding he was still buried as deep as the moment he had passed out from fatigue, the ground below him soft, warm and scaly. Dorian was still in dragon form for some reason, despite it being morning and not anywhere near a full moon, but the fatigue left in his body made him yawn and flex his muscles, making his bed moan louder. He felt a little bit rested, still sore and sweaty but his wounds ached no more. A quick look told him he was far, far from the ground, his lover grown to a ridiculous size, dwarfing trees and even the inn itself, wide enough to have knocked some of those trees down. Deep inside her he could feel his cock leak and throb to life, steel hard and possibly thicker than he remembered given how pleasurable making it twitch and jump in a vast ocean of warm cum. A smiling human watched him from a window, some fifty feet away, holding a steaming mug of something whose fragrance was lost in the reek of sex and sweat. Dorian smiled meekly back before wondering just how much he’d have to pay the man to repair the damages he had caused. His wry smile was short lived, dying once he realized that his nuts had not shrunk at all, still as heavy, as dense and needy as when Kor had shoved her face in between and snorted their scent. He craned his neck and gave the kobold beneath his chest a pleading look. She licked his snout and kissed him.

“Does the employee discount cover this by any chance?”