FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The Elemental Portals

Book II – Medioterrae

Chapter VII – Off to see the Wizard

The rest did not notice the departure of Yup and did not connect the commotion at the bar with the disappearance of Darryl either as the ogre had charged out the back while Darryl was seen exiting by the front door.

“What is going on?" Paul Colliman asked as he strained to look around the bulky elf warrior, Ladread.

“Something about a thief pilfering the cash box and ducking out back." Annie, who was seated closest to the bar answered.

“Where are Yup and Darryl?"

“Yup left a couple of minutes ago with the busty red-head." Junafir giggled. “I knew that was his type by the looks he was giving me."

“Practically everyone that's female is his type." Ladread snorted. “Him and that reprobate dragon have spied on most of us since they joined the party.

A general outburst of shock and anger ensued but Ladread shushed them.

“Can you blame them? The dragon kit is frustrated by his search for a maiden and the dwarf can't get laid because he looks like everyone's grandfather. It's a wonder they don't both have blisters all over their hands after the way you lot carry on while 'foraging'."

“I seem to recall you two catching more than fish." Coyotka said, cocking one brow at the elf and the collie.

“Where is Darryl, by the way?" Paul asked to change the subject.

“He just left." Chris Cinereo answered. “He went out the front door in a rush." The grey fox who had once been contracted to assassinate James added.

“Must have found a maiden." James mused.

“In this place?" Annie laughed.

Her words rang out because a hush had fallen over the room. The dancers had wrapped up minute ago, literally, by covering their near-naked bodies with sheets and blankets as several of the tavern's patrons bid for the services of the prettiest. After they had cleared the floor someone had put up a placard on a tripod that read 'Magnus - the Magical Musician'. The room had gone silent in anticipation.

Coyotka noted that the remaining customers were mostly couples and older villagers who could only afford to sip on a pint of beer while they watched the entertainment. They had probably seen this show a dozen times over but still they waited with bated breath for the artist to appear. This Magnus must be pretty good, she concluded.

Purple smoke drifted across the makeshift stage. James was coming to recognize the colour a s being associated with magic on this world so he was not surprised when the billows parted to reveal a tall figure standing in the middle of the open space. At first he thought that it was a man in a costume, a deer costume, because terrans were so rare on his world, but then he saw the creatures ice-blue eyes move and he realized that it was no disguise.

The fellow was tall, made more so by the antlers that stuck up from the top of his head. They had three points each in a line from front to back and extended slightly in front of his brows. His fur was mostly a rusty shade of red, with a bit of a forelock that shaded his eyes. Under his muzzle however it was pure white, and that extended down his chest beyond the “vee" of his tunic.

He was standing with his hands clasped in front of him and James noticed that he was twisting a ring on his right hand while his lips moved. Another cloud of purple smoke formed behind the stag. It condensed into a lute, a lute that stayed suspended in md-air just above and behind the deer. With another twist of his ring the lute began to play by itself, each string vibrating as if plucked by a living finger and each note ringing clear and bright in the small room.

After a couple of bars of introductory music the stag lifted his head and began to sing. He had a beautiful tenor voice that rose and fell while the magical lute provided the perfect accompaniment. The song he began with was in a tongue that neither James nor Annie, the other human in their group, recognized but which all the locals and most of their companions seemed to. It was a ballad or sorts, and James could imagine broken hearts and unrequited love from the tone and pace of it. When the stag was done more than one eye in the tavern was leaking.

“That was beautiful." Coyotka sniffled through the applause that filled the room. “I haven't heard Atlantian that pure since the last refugees of that world passed through Cognitionis."

The deer-man waited until the clapping died down before launching into what sounded to James like a drinking song in old English. The locals joined in on the chorus and thumped their beer mugs in time, spilling much of their drinks to the delight of the owner, an older dark-haired woman, who sent girls to refill their mugs after the final chorus left most of the tables sodden. The singer followed it with a tune that made most of the local ladies blush and their husbands grin. Then he launched into a series of love songs that had them hugging their mates. James found himself clutching Junafir's hand and when he looked around he saw that Gael and Annie as well as Paul and Ladread were doing the same. Only Coyotka sat with her arms crossed, while Chris gazed at her with eyes as big as saucers as he reached out toward her tentatively.

After almost an hour the deer twisted his ring again and the lute disappeared in a puff of purple smoke. The crowd groaned, but the owner assured them that he would be back for a second set in short order.

Paul, who of all of them had remembered why they had come in the first place, leapt up before the deer could leave the stage.

“Care to join us for a drink, sir?" He asked the stag. “My friends and I would like to discuss something with you and we're buying."

“Would you be able to add a meat pie to the offer?" The deer asked,

“Sure." Paul signaled the nearest serving wench. “Nine beers, eight meat pies and a salad for the horse." he ordered.

He ushered Magnus over to their table, where the rest shifted around to make room for the deer-man.

Paul made the introductions. Magnus was quite friendly to all of them, and particularly happy to see the Terrans.

“My mother was Terran." He explained. “A red deer from the north country. “She met my father when he was there searching for gems with magical properties. You see, he was a magician from here on Medioterrae, one that specialized in gem magic."

“But magic does not work on Terra," Coyotka pointed out, “unless you are near a portal."

“That is true." Magnus admitted. “But there are ways to study gems to determine their magic potential, and he was an expert at that. When he found a few likely stones he would return to the portal he had come through to test them, and those that worked well he added to his collection. When he was done trading for gems he left Terra, because as you say his magic would not work there. By then he and my mother had fallen in love and she followed him here to Medioterrae."

“Did he teach you your magic?" Paul asked, waving his finger at the stage.

“He started to. He would often take me on his lap and show me the stones he was working on and talk gem lore to me, but he left on a quest when I was ten and never came back." Magnus replied, then his eyes dropped to his lap. “All I have if him is this ring."

He held up his hand to show them the silver orb with a small purple stone around his finger.

“That is the ring that summons the lute." James said.

“Oh! You noticed that? Yes, it is true. My father left this magic ring but did not tell my mother how it worked, probably because he expected to be back soon. When I came of age at fourteen she gave it to me, and I discovered it's ability to manifest a magical lute one day while singing for her. That was, gosh, eleven years ago now.

“Did you ever try to find out if you had some magical talent that allowed you to work the ring?" Paul asked.

“Oh yes. Mother suspected that I might become a Mage and apprenticed me to the local magic guild. I managed to learn the basic spells but nothing special. As for the ring, while the Mages identified it as a powerful magical token, making the lute appear is all that I've ever been able to make it do. I would have sold it to one o the Masters of the guild, but it does go well with my signing, and that's all I've really wanted to be since I was a fawn."

Paul leaned in closer to study the ring. “That stone looks like the same type that Yup's blunderbuss is bond to." He quickly explained about the magical firearm and its tendency to produce edibles instead of deadly shot as she laid the weapon on the table.

Magnus examined the weapon and the purple sticks that made it fire. “Yes, amethyst. That would explain it. It's the same with my ring." He set the gun down and looked around at the mixed group of adventurers. “You see, it's all about the inherent properties of the gems. Amethyst gives you what you need, even if you don't know what that is. When it produced food instead of killing you it was telling the dwarf that he needed to keep you alive."

“What for?" Junafir injected.

The stag shrugged. “I have no idea. But it's the same with me. I always wanted to be a singer but can't play an instrument to save my life, so the ring provides accompaniment for me. Maybe if I needed to kill someone it would produce a magic sword or something equally deadly, but I live a pretty sedate life and my singing provides for my meager needs."

“Didn't you ever want anything else?" Annie asked, thinking of the scholarship waiting for her back on Earth.

“Oh, sure. I wanted to be a famous magician to honour my dad, but the best I could hope for would be to come a gem trader with the lore I learned from him." He sighed and his eyes went up to the ceiling as he imagined his future. “Eventually, of course, I want to find a nice doe and settle down to raise a few kids. Maybe open a music studio and teach singing to rich people's kids and aspiring troubadours. But I'll probably end up on Terra evaluating gems for export. You see, there are no does here and no market for music teachers on Terra, so I can only live half of my dream."

Junafir made a 'task-tsk' noise with her lips and patted the stag's hand. “There, there Magnus. Your mother followed your dad here so maybe you can have both. You just need to find the right doe."

The owner of the tavern called Magnus back to the stage for his second set at that point, but he promised to rejoin them when it was done.

His second set was livelier than the first and geared to drinking songs that would hasten the emptying of mugs among the locals. The crowd became more and more rowdy as the evening went on but James noted that the ogre was back on his stool with an expression so sour that no one dared get out of hand.

When the singing was done a few of the patrons threw coppers at the stage to indicate their approval. Magnus hastened to collect them before the departing crowd kicked them under the bar. When he was done the tavern owner added several more, his share of the take for the evening. After putting it all away in his pouch he joined the questors at their table.

“The owner will let us stay as long as we want, providing we keep ordering drinks.' Magnus explained.

Paul ordered drinks for half of them and one for the deer-man before bringing the blunderbuss out again.

“Do you think that you can fix it?" He asked.

Magnus took a loupe out of his tunic and screwed it into his eye. “I always carry my father's tools with me." He explained as he started a thorough examination of the gun. “They come in handy sometimes."

With the permission of the owner and under the suspicious eye of the ogre Manus inserted one of the gem sticks and used the amethyst on his ring to active it. There was a small 'pop' and a harmonica dropped out of the muzzle to land on the table. Magnus picked it up and gave it an experimental toot.

“Oooh! This will be good for the interludes between verses in the drinking songs." He said with excitement. Then he explained. “The lute is a little too soft for the break in the rougher songs."

“Like rock and roll." James offered.

“Or the blues." Annie added.

Magnus looked puzzled. “Blue songs? Rolling rock music?"

Both of the humans began to answer at once but Paul interrupted them. “They can explain later. Can you fix it?" He indicated the blunderbuss.

“Fix it? Why no. Nothing is wrong with it, per say, although it could use a bit of adjustment to make the spell stronger. Unfortunately, it was bound it to your friend's amethyst permanently and nothing can change that short of destroying the gem. Whoever did this was clearly out of their depth."

“Yup told me the fellow's name was Myrddin Wyllt."

“Ah! I've heard of him. A self-styled Wizard from someplace on earth. Father used to tell the most amusing stories about his flubs. One time he tried to build a fortress with magic but ended up with just a circle of huge stones in the middle of a big plain. Then he claimed that it was what he intended all along – as a calendar – hah!" Magnus chuckled.

“But you can make the blunderbuss work better?"

“I'll have to see the stone it's linked to, but I think I can."

Paul drained his beer. “Okay. Let's all meet at our inn tomorrow for breakfast and Yup can show you the jewel then."

Magnus nodded. “Which inn are you staying in?"

“The High-Stepping Horse, a block south of the square."

The stag's face screwed up. “Ugh. Make it after breakfast. Even us ruminants can't digest their slop."

* * * * * * *

The adventurers meet in the dining hall of the Inn at dawn. Most had slept well despite taking advantage of the soft beds. Even Yup looked refreshed when he joined the eight off-worlders.

“Up late last night?" Gael asked knowingly, having noticed the absence of a few of the dwarf's golden trinkets from his beard.

“Up often, more like it." Yup grinned. “I had to call a litter bearer to take the young lass back to the tavern. She was worn plumb out."

Annie rolled her eyes, but Coyotka grabbed her wrist when she caught her doing it. “Don't laugh, Annie. Dwarves have amazing strength and stamina. How else could they mine the granite hills of Medioterrae as extensively as they have?"

“Aye, lass. We may be vertically challenged, but we pack as much energy as an elf like Ladread here in a more compact package. Not that our, uh, 'package' is compact, if you catch my drift."

“You're in a good mood." James chuckled.

“Dwarves only mate every five years of so." Coyotka lectured. “In between the tensions tend to build up so the change of attitude afterwards can be quite dramatic."

“You got that right fur-butt."

“It's like he's drunk still." Gael noted.

“It should wear off in a few weeks." Coyotka suggested.

“What's for breakfast?" Yup demanded.

“We were warned that food might not be exactly healthy, so we took the liberty of ordering out." Paul told him. “It should be here soon."

“Oh? Won't the Innkeeper be offended?"

“He took it very well. Apparently, he's used to it and since the food is included in our bill he saves money when his guests eat elsewhere."

“I see a connection there."

“Possibly, but we don't have time to take him up on it. Look, here's the food."

“We should wait for Darryl." Junafir aid, looking around or the dragon.

“Oh, he's not coming." Yup said as he rubbed his alms together in anticipation of a meal that did not come from the wide end of a blunderbuss.

“He isn't? Why not?"

“Well last night he learned that the lass working the bar was a maiden." Yup said with a wink.

“Oh."

“Then he learned that the maiden's step-father was the bouncer ... the hard way."

“Oh! That must be the commotion we heard before the music started. Is he okay?"

“I would suppose so. He high tailed it out of town the way we came in with the ogre hot on his heels. The ogre came stomping back an hour or so later looking like he found out his mine shares were bogus, and without blood on his hands, so I assume that Darryl got away. The dragon did promise to meet up with us on the border of Muspelia, east of someplace called 'Spider Valley' or some such."

Paul saw the elf's ears prick up at the dwarf's words.

“You know this place, Ladread?"

“Uh, yes. It's a valley ... at the conjunction of eight small rivers ... hence the name."

“Sounds like a scary place." Junafir said, gripping James' arm.

“Noooo ..." Ladread said, her eyes shifting back and forth quickly in thought. “It's quite nice, really. In fact, it's perfect." She added under her breath.

Before Paul could ask her what she had said Magnus arrived. Paul introduced him to Yup and the dwarf relinquished his amulet for the deer to examine.

After a few moments with the loupe Magnus put the amulet down. “Yes, there's the problem. You see the crack in the middle there?" He indicated a spot deep inside the stone where the light bent slightly as it passed through. “Myrddin used a poor-quality gem. It corrupts the spell. It still gives you what you end, but not in the form it should be most times I'll wager. Live chickens instead of cooked ones, loose oatmeal instead of oat cakes and the like I think you said. And as I suspected, the bond is permanent."

“So, we're screwed." Jimmy frowned.

“No completely. I can moderate the flow with the high-quality stone in my ring, but I would have to be near it when it was fired to help direct the magic."

“Magnus." Paul said, leaning forward. “Why don't you come with us?"

The deer's eyes went wide. “Come with you? To hunt a dragon? No ... I ... I couldn't."

“Why not?"

“I'm not that kind of magician. I'm just a musician that knows a bit of lore and has a magic ring. Besides ..."

Paul raised his brows and stared at the deer in silence.

Magnus held the stare for a few moments before shaking his head to break contact. “Alright, dammit. My father was that kind of magician. He went on quests, short ones mostly, but sometimes long ones, grand ones. The last quest he went on was into Muspelia to retrieve some relic that a dragon named Aldreda had taken from the former Lord of Lyonesse ... and he never came back from it."

“A holy spear?" Paul guessed. “A spear said to have pierced the side of a Prophet named Jesus?"

“Yes, something like that. Numerous questors passed through looking to equip themselves with magic gems for to battle the dragoness with, and to solicit my father's help. One day the offer was too good to turn down."

“We're on the same quest, Magnus. We're going to Muspelia to take the relic from Aldreda. Maybe," he said as he leaned across the table and gripped the deer's forearm, “we'll find some trace of your father's fate along the way."

Magnus stared hard back into the collie's eyes before he shook his head. “Professional questors and champions have tried before you and all have failed. What makes you think your band of ... of ... of I don't know what ... can succeed?"

“We have some things that they don't." Paul assured him. “A dragon, albeit a young one, that will be there to scout out the way and advise us as to how best to take her on, an elf warrior, and these ..."

Paul placed his sword on the table with the sapphire on the hilt pointing to Magnus. At a nod the rest of the group placed their bejewelled weapons there too.

“Oh! Oh dear!" Magnus said as he put his father's loupe back on and picked them up one by one. “I have never seen gems as pure as these. Their magic potential is incredible! If my father had seen them he would surely have acquired them, whatever the cost. Have they been enchanted already?"

“Not that we know of." James answered. He explained the origin of the stones and about the powers they had displayed so far.

“They best Terra has to offer." Magnus marvelled. “The clarity, the sheer size of them! And the quality of the weapons they are mounted on, pure serendipity. In the proper hands you could take on all the dragons of Muspelia with these."

“Oh, really?" Ladread asked, looking concerned. “But we don't have anyone to enchant them, or time to practice their powers if we did now, do we?"

“Oh, I can do the enchantments, that's simple enough. It's some of the little magic that I can do. I've just never had anything near as good as these stones to do it on. Now, let me see. Fire for the ruby, not that it will affect the dragon but it will shield you from her fire. Water for the sapphire, to quench her fire and cool your comrades. Lighting for the diamond, to stun her, and wind and rain to drive her back. Starlight for the star sapphire, to light your way and fend off the scavengers that lurk in the caverns dragons inhabit. I can even add some healing power to Yup's amethyst."

“What about my emerald?" Annie asked, rubbing the Jewell on her spear.

“I can give you control over feral animals and the growth of plants, like the elves have," he said, nodding towards Ladread, “but I doubt you will find either very useful inside a dragon cave."

“Do it anyway." She said. “We still have a long way to go to get there and it could come in handy.

“Alright."

“One more thing." James interrupted, drawing a pouch from his tunic. “What can you do with this?" He said, placing the large black pearl of his uncle Rory on the table.

Magnus recoiled. “Ghagh! Get that thing away from me!" He cried. He would not speak again until James had hidden the pearl in its pouch.

“Those things are cursed." The stag said as he wiped the nervous sweat from his brow. “They are not real jewels at all, and anyone that tries to enchant one as if it was will find the spell corrupted, especially with the black ones. The others are harmless enough on their own, good for dissolving in wine for love spells and prosperity and such, but an enchanted black one is nothing but bad news."

“Is there any way of telling whether it is enchanted, and what that enchantment might be?"

Magnus shrugged. “Maybe on the worlds where such thins come from, but it's beyond my skill."

“Keep it under wraps until we find someone who can examine it properly." Paul suggested. “So, Manus, I take it that you will join us?"

The dear shook his head as if he could not believe what he was about to say. “Yes, I'll come. If just for the chance to work on such stones. I always wanted to go on a real adventure, besides, that is the way my father went when he left, so maybe we will find clue as to his fate."

“Alright then." The collie looked around at the rest. I suggest that we move out as soon as possible. Form the sound of it our rendezvous with Darryl is a ways east and north of where we are now. We'll have to backtrack a few days march to get back on the main road but with luck we'll catch up with him in five days or so. Meanwhile Magnus can work on the ..."

He stopped speaking when Ladread put a large rough hand on his arm.

“Or the deer can place his enchantments on them in a restful campsite while we wait for Darryl to catch up to us."

Paul wrinkled his brow inquisitively. “And how will we manage that?"

“Well, my dear, Did I not say that my people know these forests and valleys better than any others that live here? As it happens, I know the quickest way to the place he will meet us."

“Oh? Which way is that?"

“Straight north from here and then we bear east as we approach the border with Muspelia."

“Wait a minute." Yup, who had only half been paying attention spoke up. “Won't that take you through ..."

“Yes." Ladread said with a grin. “Through Spider Valley"

Magnus's eyebrows shot up so high they disappeared between his antlers.

“Spa- ... spee- ... spid- ... oh my!" Was all he got out before he fainted dead away.

Chris was looking a little green too, so Gael got him to help carry the stag outside for some fresh air.

“Dwarves, Elves, Dragons and Wizards." James mumbled. “This quest is starting to sound like a Tolkien story."

Paul shrugged. “I think its more like 'The Wizard of Oz'."

“Oh?" Annie said with interest. “Have you read that story?"

“No, but I saw the movie." He explained that on occasion Arthur Douglas would bring a television and DVD player close to the portal and treat his family and employees to a movie. “It was one of my favourites." Paul added. “Much better than that one with the Hobbits; no dogs in that one."

“It was one of my fav's too." Annie told him. “And I can see the similarity. I'm Dorothy, the girl that needs to get home. This Myrddin fellow we keep hearing about is the incompetent Wizard, James is the romantic Tin Woodsman, Junafir is the big cat that finds courage and Coyotka is the scarecrow."

“Scarecrow?" The coyote exclaimed, offended, before looking down at her rather unkept fur and dirty clothes. “I know it's hard to keep up a high level of hygiene on the road but I hardly look like a scarecrow."

“It's not the looks, it's the ... uh ... verbal resemblance."

Coyotka narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “And what exactly does that mean?"

“The scarecrow is the, uh ... brains of the group." Paul injected. “Always, ah, enlightening the others with examples of his ... deep thinking."

“Oh, an educated fellow, was he?"

James had to stifle a giggle and Annie elbowed him before saying “Well, he did have a PhT by the end of the story."

Before the university educated coyote could ask what the 'T' stood for Paul rushed in with, “And I would be Toto, the leader of the group."

It was Annie's turn to laugh. “Toto? The dog? No, no, no. Dorothy was the leader."

Paul looked shocked at the suggestion. “The girl? Other than accidentally killing the witch what did she ever do? It was Toto who faced down Missus Gulch, Toto who found them food when they ran away from home, Toto who fought the lion and exposed its cowardice, Toto who escaped the witch and brought help, and Toto who exposed the false wizard."

Paul sat back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest. “I suspect he even saved Dorothy from a perilous balloon journey with the incompetent wizard by jumping out of the basket at the last second. Clearly the dog was the wisest and bravest and most caring of them all. The rest would not have found their strengths without the sterling example of the canine to follow, much like us." He concluded, getting to his feet and walking off towards the exit.

Ladread barked a short laugh before getting up to follow him. “Looks like someone needs his ego stroked, or something similar." she said over her shoulder with a smirk.

“Do you think he's putting us on?" Annie asked, in a bit of shock at Paul's sudden exit.

James shrugged, but concern was written on his face. “I really don't know. He can be pretty deep sometimes."

Junafir drained her glass and gestured for James to do the same. “This is the same guy that went around the village for a week wearing nothing but a dog collar we're talking about, right?"

“Yes, but he had a reason for that."

“Yeah, because the town hooker told him to." She said, wiping the milk foam from her whiskers with her arm. “Who he was seeing while he was boffing my mom."

“He is right about one thing though." Annie said thoughtfully. “He is our leader, and we're still very inexperienced." She stood up and looked to the door. “I think I'll ask Gael to start sparring with me again tomorrow."

Jimmy stood up too as Annie left. “I could use some refresher myself. I hope Paul is not too offended at us to recommence the training."

Junafir took his arm and walked to the door with him. “He'll get over it, but it's in his genes to feel responsible for everyone in his care, so go easy on the old dog, James. Remember, you're a Douglas, and Paul probably expects you to take charge as soon as you're able so he can go back to being your dependable servant."

“I never thought of it that way." James admitted. “But what if I don't want to be in charge?"

“We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

* * * * * * *

Darryl managed to escape the ogre, but just barely.

The road out of town was narrow and overgrown with trees so he was forced to run for the first half a league with the big bouncer getting closer with each of his long strides.

“This is why dinosaurs went extinct." He panted as he felt the hot breath of the ogre on his tail. “At least the ones that couldn't fly."

Finally, he saw an opening in the canopy and leapt for it, beating his wings frantically to gain altitude. He felt the ogre's greasy fingers try to get a grip on the end of his tail before slipping off and blessed the fact that the creatures loved deep fried foods so much.

He was not out of the woods yet though, so to speak. He could only fly so far and if the ogre tracked him from the ground he would catch him when he landed to rest. So, in order to confuse the beast, he flew west for a ways before turning south again. Then he searched out a tall sturdy tree, but not too sturdy, to hide out in while he caught his breath.

He spent almost an hour playing cat and mouse in the forest before the sounds of the ogre crashing though the undergrowth subsided. Darryl kept close to the treetops for as long as he could fly before landing on a limb and listening for a full five hundred breaths before deciding that the ogre had really given up.

There was just one problem, with all the twists and turns he had no idea where he was or which direction the road was.

“Guess I'll sleep on it." He said to himself as he made himself comfortable against the trunk of the tree.

In the morning, stiff and cold from a night in the elements, he climbed up just high enough to get a bearing on the rising sun. The main road was somewhere in that direction, and the one that they had followed to get to the town was between him and it. Darryl decided to make his way east in short flights until he found one of the other before the sun got too high. He could hunt for breakfast along the way.

He found the trail they had used halfway though the morning. He considered continuing by air to reach the main road sooner but he was almost exhausted from all the flying and had no idea how far away it was. The safest course was to follow the trail back to the main road on foot and then follow it north to the border of Muspelia.

“It's not like I have to hurry." He said out loud, comforted by the sound of his voice. The rest will either come back on this trail or use another that avoids the Valley of the Spiders. “Not like they would be crazy enough to go through the place." He added. “The locals are sure to tell them to steer clear when they ask how to get back to the main road."

He did not go much further that day, just far enough to assure himself that the ogre was not tracking him. He had heard that ogres had a unique way of dealing with young dragons they called 'The Yuletide Cracker' And he did not want to find out what it entailed.

I took Darryl a full two days to reach the junction with the main road and he was slightly surprised to find someone else camping there, a cloaked and hooded figure that was sitting by a small fire in the triangular clearing of the intersection.

Whoever it was was seated so that they could observe all the approaches so they must have seen him; iridescent blue dragons do tend to stand out against the dark pine forests of the region, but they did not give any indication that they had.

Darryl stood there observing the figure. After a few minutes it reached out with one hand, one small dark-skinned human hand, and picked up a branch to throw in the fire.

Neither spoke for many heartbeats.

“Is that a brace of rabbits you have?" The figure finally spoke, in a voice that was higher pitched than Darryl had expected, and one which had a strange accent.

Darryl looked down at the rabbits he had caught earlier in the day. He had expected to have to eat them cold as he had left town without any means of making fire other than rubbing sticks together, and he had no patience for that.

“Yes, they are. I would not be averse to sharing if you are any good at cooking them."

“Why don't you just fry them with your fiery breath?"

He spread his arms to display his immaturity. “I'm barely an adolescent. It will be at least another twenty years before I would be able to produce more than noxious smoke."

“Really?"

“Yes, of course. You must not know much about dragons."

“No, I don't." The figure pushed back the hood of their cloak to expose a human head; a girl's head, with dark hair and startling blue-grey eyes set against dusky skin. A triple row of scars slanted across her face, strangely enhancing her exotic beauty. “I'm new here." She showed her other hand, and the small, loaded crossbow it was holding. “You may approach."

Darryl was fascinated by her eyes. They were as vibrant as some of his scales with deep black centres. He had never seen a human with skin that colour either although some of the ones in Lyonesse were so dirty it was had to tell what colour their skin was. He wondered if she was from the strange exotic lands rumoured to be south of the equatorial dessert, and if so, how she had come to be here.

“They don't have dragons in your land?" He asked as he sat down by the fire opposite her.

“Not anymore. There was one many years ago that was so mighty it cracked the ground when it was felled by a great hero."

“Why?"

“Why what?"

“Why did the hero kill it?"

She paused, staring at him as if the answer should be obvious. “It was terrorizing a village, eating all their livestock and burning their houses."

“Well, that was pretty dumb." He said as he began to dress the rabbits with his claws. “You would think that a big dragoon like that would be able to hunt wild game for itself. Was there a famine?"

“A famine? Uh, no, not that the stories mention."

“If there was a famine he ... or she ... might have been desperate enough to eat farm animals, but that doesn't explain the house burning."

“Well, it's what dragons do ... isn't it?"

“Not around here. If a dragon runs out of food they just change territory until the stock replenishes. If they want a cow or a couple of fat sheep along the way they just barter for them with some gold from their hoard. Dragons around here don't attack you unless you attack them first." He added with a pointed look at her crossbow. “Maybe someone attacked the one you speak of before they could introduce themselves." He looked back up at her. “Oh, where are my manners? My name is Darryl, Darryl D. Dragon, and yours is ...?"

She looked confused. “Our legends don't speak of small articulate dragons."

“And mine don't talk of small dark-skinned female warriors with such beautiful ... I mean ... such startling eyes."

She uncocked the cross bow and it disappeared inside her cloak. “Don't assume that I am unarmed." She said, her brow wrinkled fiercely.

“Perish the thought."

The cloaked girl relaxed a bit. “Alright. My name is Nahal."

“A pleasure to meet you, Nahal. Do you want me to save the skins for you?"

“What would I do with them?"

“Humans I've met like to make foot coverings and mittens from them. It gets very cold in the mountains north of here and I thought that you were headed that way."

“I am, but I lack the skill to treat hides. I intend to trade for anything I need as I go."

Nahal did not elaborate as to why she was headed north so Darryl filled in the silence as he skewered the rabbit carcasses with a couple of green branched and angled them over the fire.

“I'm headed north too."

“By yourself?"

“I was with a group of humans and Terrans I met while hanging out in the woods one day, but we got separated. I have to meet them a few days walk from here on the border with Muspelia."

“Humans and Terrans? That's a strange mix."

Happy to have someone to talk to, or at least listen while he talked, Darryl explained about the quest to recover a holy spear head in exchange for his captive pet and use of Morholt's portal. He even went as far as to describe and name his companions. He could see no harm in it; his newfound friends had said that they were being chased by a pair of Terran assassins, not a single human girl.

“James Douglas you say?" Nahal was careful not to overplay her hand, even though the dragon seemed not to suspect that she was from Earth. “Strange name for these lands."

“Oh, He's not from this world. He and Annie are both from Earth, although she looks almost as fierce as that elf warrior, Ladread."

With a little coaxing from Nahal Darryl told her everything he knew about James and how he was running from his uncle. “A fox named Rory Douglas." He said between bites of fresh roast rabbit. He saw her wince slightly at the name. “You've heard of him?" He asked, puzzled.

“Rory Douglas? No. I just don't like, uh, foxes; tricky, sly creatures."

“James is half fox, but he looks all human. I know, I've seen him all over. But we have a grey fox in our group, Chris Cinereo, a former assassin from Terra that has made some kind of pledge to James. His former partner, a red fox named Sevade, and another Terran assassin they don't know, have been chasing James." He liked the rabbit grease off his claws. “His uncle wants him dead."

“Family, eh?"

“Yeah." He sighed, remembering how his mother had kicked him out of the cave with only a bit of gold to start his horde only a short time ago. “Family". Them he cheered up again. “Hey, I've done all the talking and hardly let you get a word in. Your turn. Tell me about yourself."

She gazed into the fire for a few moments. No one had asked her about herself before. The clients at the brothel had no interest in conversation and the only thing Rory Douglas ever asked her was whether she thought she was fooling him when she collapsed from pain and exhaustion during one of his marathon sex sessions.

“I don't have much of a story." She said, surprised at how honest the answer sounded. “I grew up in a small village and left when I was still a child. I've seen many strange lands since and travelled many a strange road since, but I have to fulfill a promise before I can rest."

Darryl's face fell. He had heard that same tone come out of his own mouth. “Hey, I know how it feels, Nahal, being out on the road with no friends or family. I would be wandering round aimlessly still if I had not met James and his friends. They made a promise to me and I made one to them, so that is my purpose now, even if our cause seems doomed sometimes. This promise of yours, will it be difficult to fulfill, do you think?"

Nahal looked him directly in the eyes. “Things are looking up lately."

“Must be lonely though."

“Being alone has it's good points."

Darryl nodded. “You've been abused."

“Wha- ... what makes you any that?"

“I can see it in your eyes, and then there's the, uhm, scars ... A small person like yourself in a world of brutes like this one. I bet you didn't leave home of your own accord. You were probably sold or taken by someone who wanted an exotic plaything. And your scars, they're fresh but well healed. Someone hurt you but didn't want to get rid of you, so they patched you up nice."

“You're not far off."

“Care to talk about it?"

“No."

“Alright, but be assured that I pose no threat to you. Dragons may be mad about a couple of things like gold and such, but we are noble creatures that would never use threats or force to take what we want."

Nahal smiled for the first time in a long, long time. “You sound like the heroes in our stories, but you're a dragon."

“In our stories the dragons are always the heroes. It's the humans that are the evils ones, the men anyways." he added quickly. “The women in them are pure creatures that ... ah ... that are really nice and ... uhm ... friendly."

She laughed again. “Oh, I know that look." It was true. Young men whose friends had brought them to the brothel for their first experience often had that look when they were too shy to say what they wanted from the girls. “You said that dragons went mad for gold 'and such'. What 'and such' were you referring to?"

Darryl ducked his head, but it did nothing to hide the ruddy glow that was spreading across his face.

“I'd rather not say. You wouldn't trust me if I told you."

“I won't trust you if you don't tell me."

“Well, young dragons ... they have certain urges, you see ... that have to do with ... mmm ... ade ... nins ..."

“Sorry? I missed that last bit."

“Maidens!" Darryl almost shouted. “We like maidens. I like maidens." He dropped his head again and began hyperventilating. “It's a pheromone thing. As soon as adolescence hits things go all wacky with us. The old dragonesses will have nothing to do with us and the young females dragons only want to mate with the big mature males. Young male dragons are left to wander the world seeking out human females who still have that certain scent of innocence, and I'll tell you, they are very hard to find in this part of the world." He paused, having realized that he was talking too much. “I, uh, guess that it is different in your part of the world."

She felt pity for the poor creature, as well as an urge to laugh. “No, it's not, I'm sorry to say. Not for many, not for me especially."

“Wha- ... what do you mean?"

“Let's just say that I'm no maiden."

“Oh no! They did hurt you, didn't they, and against your will, the eggless bastards."

“Yeah, well, now you know why you didn't go crazy over me when we met. Damaged goods."

Darryl's whiskers fell limp and his brows drooped in shame. “No, Nahal, it's not like that. I am attracted to you ... I mean ... you seem like an honest, capable woman of good character with a strong will. You would have to be to survive in this part of the world on your own. I respect and admire that."

Darryl paused. “Look, you are heading north and I'm heading north. I may be a dragon, but I was almost torn apart by an ogre the other day, and it would be nice to have someone watching my back. And don't you worry about me asking advantage of you; while you travel with me I will defend your person and your honour to the death." He finished by striking his chest with his fist, a sign of truthfulness among the dragons.

It brought a sad smile to Nahal's face. “I have no more honour to defend."

Darryl held up his hands in protest. “Oh, but you do. Honour can't be taken from you by force. They may damage you physically, hurt you mentally and ravage you emotionally, but you keep your honour deep inside until you need it."

She remembered what she had done to Sevade, and what she was going to do to an innocent boy to exact her revenge on Rory Douglas and his goon, Mister Ross. She was fairly sure that she had used up whatever honour she might one have had, but she did not contradict the dragon.

He could tell that he had failed to reach her. “And don't let all that hype around 'maidenhood' worry you." He continued. “Maidenhood is not a physical state so much as an emotional one. I have run into a few human girls who would tease and play around and do anything but that one thing, yet they were no maidens, and I had no desire for them. But an older widow woman I met soon after I left home told me that when she and her husband, uh ... did it ... each time was like the first time."

“And did she, uh, 'do it' with you?"

Darryl's blush was his answer.

“And how was it?"

He smiled and gazed up at the darkening sky in remembrance. “Just like it was her first time, she said. It was mine, and I've never felt the same way since, but one day I hope to."

That made Nahal smile, but it quickly faded. If she was going to have her revenge, she needed to convince Darryl to take her to his friends and get them to let her join their quest, and the dragon may have just given her an opening to do that.

She excused herself while Darryl banked the fire against some green logs that would reflect the heat back toward then while they slept. She went to a nearby creek and stripped down so that she could wash all over. The weapons she had brought from Terra and those she had taken from the fox Sevade made quite a pile. She considered using the small portal to contact Rory Douglas, but she did not. She had used it the night after killing Sevade, admitting that she had killed the fox but only saying that he had been dying of internal injuries and was slowing her down. She was not very surprised to find that Rory Douglas was not too upset by that development. Even though she was travelling alone he old her that he would tap on the inside of the portal's case when he wanted her to contact him but only to reply when it was safe to do so.

She had not shaved since leaving Rory's castle and now her body was covered by a fine layer of fuzz, except around her pubes where dark, straight hairs were growing sparsely. Maybe they would curl as she got older, maybe not, but she would never shave them again for anyone, she vowed.

The cold water raised goosebumps on her skin and made her nipples hard, but she welcomed the sensation. She was going to need to recall it if she was going to seduce the dragon into leading her to James Douglas.

She had spent so much time in the company of the scheming and deceitful since being taken from her village that it never occurred to Nahal to simply ask Darryl to take her to his friends.

She put all the weapons in her pack then added most of her clothes. Under her assassins cloak she wore nothing but a light shirt and her cotton underpants. When she returned to the crossroads, she found Darryl sitting to one side of the fire with nothing to wear and no bedroll to sleep in.

I might as well get at it, she told herself, then she whipped off her cloak and rushed over to the dragon.

“Oh, you poor cold-blooded creature." She said as she draped the cloak over his shoulders. “You must be freezing in this cold mountain air."

“Oh no, not really." He replied as he tried to pass the cloak back to her. “That whole cold-blooded thing is a myth, really. Adolescent dragons produce enough heat internally to keep them warm even in the high mountains of Muspelia, although it does drain our energy a bit. That's why we wander the human lands of the south after we get kicked - ... after we leave home. Adult dragons can heat a whole cave system quite effectively."

“Maybe I should snuggle up to you to keep warm then." She said, shuffling up against him and pulling the cloak over both of them. “Oh yes, that's nice and cozy."

To her surprise it was cozy. She had expected the dragon's scales to be cold and slick, if not actually slimy, but they were warm and dry and, and comforting.

“I felt you flinch." Darry said, then added hastily, “Don't worry, every human does it. You see us and think of snakes or lizards but we're really not the same, especially dragons my age. We're still growing into our dragon form and our scales are more flexible, like big solid bird feathers. Once we're adults our scales become hard as diamonds and almost impermeable ... as long as we're in full dragon form anyway. But shape shifting is another talent that only comes with full adulthood."

She almost asked what he meant by that last bit but it did not seem important to her task at the moment.

“Well, you certainly are warm, and soft." She said, taking him by the arm so that his hand was resting on her thigh under the cloak.

“Uhm ... yes. You ... you too."

She snuggled closer not as close as a woman had ever come to Darryl but awfully close all the same.

“Tell me about this woman you made feel like a virgin." She said as she rubbed his arm.

“Uh? Oh, no. I couldn't. It's not right to talk about past lovers, even to other males."

Great, she thought, I had to find a chivalrous man ... er, dragon. But in her experience even the nicest boys really only wanted one thing, and by the time she had been sold to Rory Douglas she had been an expert in giving it to them.

She curled one of his whip-like whiskers around her finger and brought her face close to his. “Don't tell me, let me guess. Did you kiss her with your sensitive, blue lips?" She brushed hers against his and was surprised at how warm and alive they felt.

“Once or twice maybe."

“Like this?" She pressed her mouth against his and it was not long before his lips parted as he began to kiss her back in earnest. He kept his tongue in his own mouth though, perhaps afraid that the long, forked, prehensile appendage would scare her off if he thrust it down her throat all at once. She kept hers in check too, but did nibble on his lip a bit.

When she pulled back he was breathing hard, just like the inexperienced boys in the brothel. She took his near hand and guided it down between her legs.

“Did you rub her through her clothes ... or under them?"

“I ... uh ... we ... we started dressed, but the next time she ... she took off her undergarments first ... because of the claws. They can be drawn against soft, resilient flesh without piercing the skin if one is careful but they can slash a pair of cotton panties to ribbons."

“Oh, I like the first part." She breathed as she pressed the pad of his middle finger against the mound of her sex. “There was something I did once, the 'Ecstasy of the Razor'. It was very dangerous but very, very sensuous; only for true connoisseurs." Actually, she had done it twice, once with Rory Douglas, who did not care whether he cut her or not, and once with Sevade, who really was an artist with his knives. To bad he wouldn't let her use the razor on him; she would have showed him how it felt to have someone shave his orange and white ass while pegging him with a ... but she had to concentrate.

The body is a strange thing. It can react to protect its owner even when that person is terrified or being forced to do something they hate. Many rape victims report feeling aroused because their glands produced protective lubricants, and some even experienced orgasms. A willing, if not enthusiastic, agent in this seduction, she felt herself grow damp under the pressure of his finger on her. She guided it back and forth a few times before releasing it and was pleased that he continued at the same slow, steady pace.

Maybe he isn't completely inexperienced, she conceded.

She began rubbing his tummy, which was paler than his sides or back and covered with wide, thick scales. Somewhere in there, she supposed, must be an opening for his penis to come out. The myths and legends of her people did not peak of such things, but she assumed that it would be in roughly the same place as most other creatures. She ran the tip of her finger along the seam between each plate until she felt him twitch. Moving one lower did nothing, so she went back up one and got the same response as the first time.

“What excites a young male dragon?"

“Uh ... young female dragons ... old female dragons ... and human maidens."

“And maidenhood is only a state of mind? In that case I choose to be a maiden, because I've never given it willingly to any man, boy or dragon. Do you believe that I'm a maiden, Darryl? Do you?"

The dragon looked down into her intense gaze. He could tell that she wanted this very badly, but he could not figure out why. yet after a few more strokes on the opening to his penile pouch he did not care.

“I ... I believe you, Nahal. I believe you."

Good, she thought, and her expression softened as she went to work.

Darryl saw her face relax and assumed that it was because she wanted this fantasy as much as he did. He stopped resisting.

She seemed as curious as a virgin, he thought, examining his body with her fingers and lips as he rubbed her harder. He had no nipples like the mammals but there were sensitive spots under his arms, and she found them readily enough. His testicles were stored internally, so she could not squeeze them, but the folds of skin at the top of his thighs were almost as responsive. His lips, the underside of his chin and his whiskers were all susceptible to manipulation too.

When his penis appeared she gasped, just like a virgin might. He did not know it was because the girl was not from Medioterrae and had never seen a preserved dragon penis as most of the humans from this world had. His was average, for a dragon, which was much larger than the average human's. The head was shaped like a long, tapered mushroom, and the shaft was thick with muscle with a double row of bumps on either side. It was dark blue, darker than the darkest scales on his body. So dark that it almost looked black.

Dragon erections did not depend on tissues being swollen with blood, they were always erect, even when inside, and their durability was not limited to a single ejaculation. In the past, when dragons were wilder and virgins more fragile, many a human maiden had died of exhaustion after suffering though a string of seemingly endless orgasms. Darryl's mother had warned him to take care and pretend to need a 'breather' between acts, if the lady was still up to it.

Darryl needn't have worried for Nahal's sake. She had survived gangs of relentless customers, Taliban men that believed that women, and young boys, were only there to serve their needs and foreign soldiers that came in strength in case of an attack while they were pleasuring themselves. She was impressed by his penis for its size and exotic appearance, but she had larger and more dangerous items forced inside her.

This could even be ... fun, she thought, fleetingly, before getting back to business.

She wrapped her fingers around the thick shaft. “My, what is a maiden to do with such a thing?" She said, playing her role.

Darryl turned red again, but squirreled up his courage and spoke, if barely above a whisper.

“Well, … uh … some of them … ah … kiss it."

“Like this?" She lowered her head as she licked her lips. She let her wet, warm lips part as the narrow tip entered her mouth and continued until the whole head was inside. The she pulled her head back, squeezing her lips around the head as she withdrew.

Darryl shuddered. “Oh yeah … I mean … yes, just like that. The others … they, uh, kiss it a lot."

Nahal hid her knowing smile as she took his cock back in her mouth. Each time she dipped her head she took more of it in, and soon she was able to lick the underside of the head with her tongue. After a dozen more the tip was tickling the back of her throat and the wide shaft was stretching her lips to their limit.

He was still rubbing her between her legs through her underwear, which were soaked from the fluids her body was producing, anticipating more rough sex like that the foxes had been subjecting her to lately. But this time was different. This time her clit was swelling too, far enough to escape the fold of flesh that hid it. Darryl had found that hard little knob of tender skin and was rubbing it in little circles each time his finger came in contact with it. The widow that had taken him in must have taught him well, Nahal thought.

Not wanting to ruin the illusion of innocence by taking Darryl's whole penis into her mouth and throat, Nahal pulled her head off it.

“It's too big, Darryl. How could it ever fit ... you know ... inside me?"

“The human female anatomy is amazingly flexible." He assured her.

“I'm afraid." She whimpered convincingly, recalling a time just after she was sold to the brothel when she had been afraid of such things.

Darryl put his free had to her head and looked deep into her eyes. “Don't be afraid, little one. I would never hurt you. We can go as slow as you want, or not … not at all." The last bit took a bit of effort to get out. She was making such a convincing maiden that he was being driven almost mad with desire. Inside his abdomen his balls were swelling and throbbing painfully in anticipation.

“Oh no. Don't stop. I want you to do it." Nahal made a show of rushing to remove her underpants and pulling off her shirt so she was as naked as he. Then she crawled into his lap, wrapped her legs around his hips and rubbed her sodden twat against his stiff cock. “Make love to me Darryl. Make me a woman."

She began to kiss him before he could answer. He had leaned back as she moved in and her added weight made him tip backwards until he was laying on his back with his tail between his legs and Nahal on top of him. She put her hands on his scaly chest and rolled her hips to slide her mound along the length of his cock. The mound split as her moister spread along his shaft and soon her clit was bumping along the raised ridge of its underside.

“Help me, Darryl." She moaned. “I don't know how to get it in."

Darryl managed to suspend disbelief long enough to reach down and raise the tip of his cock up enough to let it penetrate the split mound the next time she rolled her ass far enough up along it. She paused and let out a little cry as the head entered her, the kind a virgin might make as her hymen was split, even though there had been no barrier to its entry. The she sighed and let more of it slide inside.

She moved forward until only the tapered tip remained inside her, and then she moved back along him again, taking a little more inside than the first time. She did that again and again until the lips of her sex were pressed against the broad scales of his abdomen, grunting and gasping with each extra inch she took as if it was an effort to squeeze it all in.

Once she had it all inside, she sat up and used her legs to raise herself up and down on his rod. An occasional swing of her hips or twist of her waist ensured that every bit of his bumpy cock reached every soft spot inside her. While she slowly rose and fell on him she fondled her small firm breasts, squeezing them between her fingers and tugging on her nipples while she bit her lip and moaned with her eyes closed.

Darryl could see it all from where he lay on his back, the way her muscles clenched and relaxed as she rose and fell on his cock, the way her nether lips curled up inside her on the way down and then stretched out behind her on the way back up. He could even see her clit sticking out between them and his thumb was drawn to it. Placing his hand on her waist, carefully avoiding piercing her with his claws, he rubbed it again as she rode him. He put his other hand up to one of her breasts and took over the job of kneading it.

The sight, the sound and the smells coming from her all combined to add to the illusion that he was deflowering a maiden who was experiencing love for the first time. It helped to heighten his desire, and he longed to throw her on her back and have at her, but one did not treat a proper maiden that way, or so he had been taught. A true gentle-dragoon let the lady set the pace the first time … then threw her to the ground for a good ravishing, once they had recovered from the passion of the initial encounter of course.

Meanwhile, he was close to cumming. Despite his glib tongue incidents with parents or guardians like that at the tavern were far more common than a successful seduction, and it had been a while since he had met any accommodating widows, so the pressure was building quickly. Darryl did not have to worry about recovering quickly though so he did nothing to impede his orgasm.

Her slow gyrations took him to the edge and held him there for a long moment where he forgot to breathe, and when he came, he did so with a gasp and a jolt that surprised him. The release was like nothing he had ever felt, blasting out of him and soaking his shaft inside her. Several smaller shots followed.

She felt it too, an explosion of hot goo that spread inside her and leaked out onto her thighs as he pumped more and more into her love canal. It was more than any of the men … or foxes … she had ever lay with and she briefly wondered if there was a chance of pregnancy on this world but quickly dismissed it. He was a reptile, she was a mammal, how could such a thing be?

Normally she would stop at that point, perhaps after a faking a quick orgasm, having given the customer what they wanted, but this day she did not. It was partially because she wanted to ingratiate herself with the dragon so that he was sure to bring her to James Douglas, and partially out of curiosity, and maybe something akin to desire.

His cock had not gone limp and dropped out of her like most men, nor was it staying inflated because of a knot that prevented full thrusting, so she was able to keep up her movement on it and even speed up without it losing any of its resilience. That and the rough scales of his thumb on her clit were causing her body to react in a way that it only did when overstimulated, as when the madam allowed a gang to take her. She decided to chase this sensation down to its conclusion.

Dropping down a bit she put her hands on his chest to support her while she inched back, raised her ass up and rolled it frantically. He had to abandon her clit but the angle she had adopted made it ride along the top of his shaft as she rocked and rolled her hips above him. Her breasts were close to his long snout now and he was able to kiss and suck them without lifting his head too much, and when he bent it back he could kiss her mouth too, using his clever tongue freely now.

It was not long before the tissues inside her swelled up to grip his cock like a hand inside her. Muscles she had forgotten about began to undulate on their own as if milking him for more cum, wresting the last few drops out of his shaft. Then everything went tight, and she was suspended in time, balanced in the edge of a precipice that she could not force herself over.

Nahal dropped down chest to chest with the dragon. Her head was beside his head, her face in the dust as she wrapped her arms around his neck and hooked her ankles over his knees. Then she began to push herself down hard on his cock, pulling up and driving herself back down as fast as she could, rubbing her body against his, squeezing his hot shaft inside her and dragging her engorged clit across the scales of his abdomen before slamming it into the base of his cock.

The cry that escaped her lips as her insides turned to liquid fire was not faked, nor was the sudden spurt of hot fluid that washed the last of his cum from her thighs.

Her movements slowed as the intensity of her first voluntary climax faded, like a gauze curtain going down on an erotic scene. Then they became uneven as several minor orgasms shot through the curtain, making her shudder against him. When they finally stopped, she lay exhausted, but filled with a warm glow, breathing heavily on Darryl's chest.

“Nahal," He said as she stared up into the darkening sky, “That was the most wonderful thing that's ever happened to me."

“Even better than the first time with that widow?"

“Even better." He raised an arm to draw her head against him. The feel of her hair on the side of his scaly head was nice, and the smell of the soap she had used to wash it cut through the lingering scent of sex. It was a comforting combination, and it emboldened him to ask a delicate question.

“Nahal, did I … did I make you feel like it was your first time?"

Her voice was slightly muffled as she was still facing down at the ground when she answered, “Yes, Darryl. Yes, you did."

They lay like that for a time with Darryl gazing up at the stars as they appeared in the sky one by one, dreaming of their next engagement, while Nahal kept her face turned away from him so that he would not see the tears that were streaming from her eyes, wishing that she had been lying to him just now.

Paul Collieman © Collifan

Gael Tholkes © MarcusXLight

Junafir Pawstone © Frostlupus

Chris Cinereo © Kyroo Echos

Yup Thatchwatyahurd © Kyroo Echos

Constance “Coyotka" Jotkowska © Coyotek

Darryl D. Dragon © Major Matt Mason

Ladread © White Tiger Hunting

Aldreda © White Tiger Hunting

Magnus © Thwaitesy