Have it her way
#6 of Quickies
This is a quickie story commission I have done for kitsugen
Description: Forced to seek refuge into an abandoned mineshaft, a wolf and his assigned dragoness partner are forced to overcome their differences through the guidance of the strongest of instincts.
The characters featured in this story belong to me
***Have it her way***
Knutr never slapped a dragon's snout in thirteen years as a handler, but it had to be done, and it stung. Fierce.
Thyra hissed in retribution, snapping inches from his muzzle, but never daring to go closer.
"It's either this," Knutr grabbed her head with more compassion this time around, holding her panicked gaze to draw her attention from the darkening tunnel in which he planned to lead her. "It's either this or getting shredded out there. You've been in the sky longer than I've lived and I have my fair share of years getting my rump scraped by scales. I'm not ready to meet the ground in free fall just yet."
"So you order, master?" Thyra spat that foul, prohibited word at the height of her fear.
"So I order, so get a move on unless you want another motivation," he said, wiggling his hand.
The dragoness puffed a curl of smoke in his face, shoving him forward hard enough that he almost crashed on his belly.
"That hurt you more than it did me."
"Yes. In more ways than you can imagine."
Knutr couldn't quite explain Thyra's fear for the underground, but neither did he wish to probe for more from such finnicky creature. To her, every wrinkle, bump and rock felt as if her paws stepped on liquid fire, her steps downright erratic, her shivers unusually intense. When the light of the necklace imbued with the Elleryum coursing through his body began to flicker, Knutr lit his dragonflame lamp, its blaze basking the entirety of the mine shaft in its somber glare.
"I'd have expected more from a cave dweller."
"Our connection to caverns is as deep as your fondness for sniffing the undertail of every new person you meet."
Vicious, but not unexpected. He deserved this one for teasing her about the myths surrounding her kind, for no dragon had sought the shelter of the earth in centuries after the civilized races began harvesting the so-called blood of the world--Elleryum--for their newly established groups of spell casters. All it took was a traitor to its kind, and a gift previously given only to select dragons now reached the hands of almost every people on the continent. Quite amusing, to be born with an ability, yet never to be aware of its existence on account of ignorance.
Knutr made sure to keep an eye on Thyra's sluggish progress, his continuous glances adding to her ire.
"It's rock. Just rock. It won't swallow you."
Roars, growls, threats of all kinds--Knutr had heard this symphony one too many times in his life from dragons larger and more articulate than the sullen, spiteful Thyra.
"Says who, some pitiful weight on my back?"
Her tail sweep was supposed to catch him across the ankles, but Knutr jumped over it, ducked under the higher swing, and dodged the next thrust by simply stepping to the left.
"Are you done? Or do I have to grab my sword?"
She was done. He could see it in her smoldering gaze, that deep seething hatred for what he represented, for the restrictions his kind had imposed upon her since her first day into the world. Explaining how he played no part in that wouldn't do it any good but enflame her already strong emotions towards it.
Useless as their quarrels were, they at least loosened the dragon's footing enough to see them deep enough to start searching for a good place to settle. Thyra, as expected, remained on the lip of the descent, preferring the battering currents over his presence.
"I wouldn't spend my night in the chill, but have it your way."
The dead end he chose as their shelter for the night was little more than a shallow hole that the previous miners found no promise with. Everywhere he stepped, the ground was furrowed with the hits of pickaxes, with only the ceiling retaining its natural shapes.
While Thyra remained sentry at the entrance to their humble abode, Knutr unpacked what little comfort their saddlebags held, starting with an expansion of their lighting sources. Designed to last for weeks, the lamps using flame fluid from the dragons burned an ominous vermilion, bathing the chamber in an eerie glow similar to that of the setting sun. The blankets followed, two for him, four for Thyra to cushion her bulk.
"Pillow?" Knutr waved a bundled quilt at her, stealing it for himself at her lack of reaction. He could always make do with more of those.
With their room made presentable, Knutr went to the smaller bags holding his food. He made his way back with a selection of dried meats, hard cheeses and a fistful of assorted nuts to better sate him. The quartermaster doled out the portions based on the estimations given by the tacticians for a mission's time. Would their delay take longer, he'd need to rely less on the emergency rations and more on Thyra's benevolence to put herself at risk by going out there.
Not that she wouldn't have to do that, sooner or later.
"Glad you saw sense," Knutr took a bite from a wide piece of jerky and enhanced it with a little bit of cheese. "Nobody's going to come check these older mine shafts. Superstition and all. The furless think they'll grow a tail from exposure to the Elleryum. Not that we have any here to draw from."
Thyra made herself comfortable on her spot, the smooth underside of her four-toed hind paws facing Knutr while her head took in the work of the miners.
"Gets better the closer you get to the Elleryan basin. The quarries there have ten times as many tunnels as you have claws on your paws, and they use completely different carving and extraction tools. Depending on the number of geomancers, you might even have a cavern shaped into a hall to house the king. They actually did that in Hrennar's Hollow thanks to their proximity to the only thing it can make such a feat possible."
"As if they'd let a whelp like you walk in the footsteps of those mild, soft-footed, simple creatures needing a bridle to navigate their way through your world."
A crass exaggeration, to be sure. The imperial line of dragons best adapted to their surroundings, integrating themselves into the society they became a part of. Unlike a grunt like Thyra whose purpose was to fly wherever her superiors pointed her to, the magic-blessed dragons had a responsibility to their community that went beyond simple orders. Nobody had to convince them to lend their abilities to further the cause, for their best interests lied with those who sheltered them from a world bent on enslaving them to their nefarious uses.
"A lot of assumptions about your partner," the wolf chuckled at how easily she dismissed his manipulation of the energy thrum emitted by the Elleryum veins. "I may yet surprise you."
"You don't."
Although bundled in a defensive ball that left no room for supposition as to how eager she was to have his eyes on her, Thyra's amber gaze still took him in. Maybe she was wrong. Perhaps she missed a vital clue. Knutr so enjoyed tinkering with such rigid minds, rife with possibilities.
"You're as mangy as the rest of them."
That definitive, almost defiant snort put a stopper on their short-lived conversation. Knutr's appetite faded along with his words, the wolf struck by sudden melancholy at remembering his last encounter with Karellya. He ought to have been a big cat, prone to spending his seed quick. A few minutes worked for most other species, but his knot needed time to drain. Only once had fortune laid their hand on them and kept Knutr inside his dragoness long enough for the final embers of lust to fade. Most often than not, he had to yank himself out while soaring on the gentlest tide of elation and crawl his way to the secret passage Karellya's magic carved for him.
All so that her grooms and servants--sorry, jailors--could ensure that no male dragon somehow snuck inside to plant his worthless seed into her ever-receptive womb. Death by her magic unmanned most others, but Knutr found that preferable over a life of cowardice. He just needed to keep up faith. They both did.
But faith alone couldn't quell the need throbbing to life within him, nor pacify the itch swarming through his sack and groin. All too used to his solitary life, Knutr reached for his forming bulge, grabbing and stroking his sheathe through his pants absent mindedly until the rustle of Thyra's shifting wing reminded him of his elevated company.
"What are you doing?" She asked, as if the ridged horns pointed at him had eyes of their own.
"Turn around and see," Knutr challenged her. His spit stuck in his throat when Thyra's strong yet supple bulk actually rotated in his directions, her nostrils flared to take in the traces of his lust.
"As I expected. Males of lofty words hesitate when their dim courage is confronted."
Fine. Have it her way.
His head blazing with nerves and determination to shut that dainty muzzle of hers, Knutr began undoing the laces of his coat, sparing no pause to handle his vest and undershirt. The pants dropped to his ankles just as fast, revealing a speckle of pink tipping his fuller sheath, now that he rubbed some pleasure into it. To give Thyra even more of a reason to turn around and mind her business, the wolf pulled on his sheath, letting an inch of his half-erect member slide into the open, the dragoness' eyes and nostrils immediately widening a notch.
"Is this good enough for you? Or will you watch the entirety of it?"
The dragoness released a heavy scoff, laden with equal amounts of distaste and reluctance to give in. But for some reason, she submitted to his will. Her! A dragon with no regard for propriety, social etiquette or decency! If anything, that further enhanced Knutr's longing to be with his mate, in mind if not in body.
In complete disregard of Thyra's awake, shifting tail, shuddering frills and short, heavy, equally lustful breaths for an erotic scenario of her own perhaps, Knutr made himself comfortable on his side and began fondling himself. Light pulls and shallow squeezes over a soft rhythm kept his cock eager for more and his knot tight within his sheath, sheltered from the urge to cum once pushed into the open. While in that state, Knutr conjured a foreplay scenario, a parody of the real thing. The actions were fragmented, his ears never seemed to register her words, and his attention seemed focused on the wetness between her legs, as if that was all that mattered.
"Ghhah!" Knutr gasped, tearing himself out of his trance. Even with this imperfect picture, his seed already threatened to burst out of him in remembrance of how tight and soft and warm and wet she felt.
"Already?" Thyra mocked him with her rumbling laughter, a sound that Knutr never expected to hear from a morose, ever growling dragon like her.
"I do find your shapely rump so intoxicating to look at. The curve of the limbs, the ripple of the muscle, the strength of the tail--you're the striking picture of a female I'd shoot my seed into from the very first thrust."
"Mrrmmm," the dragoness released a faint, almost intrigued growl as she rolled to face him, retreating a hind leg out of the way of her sex, tail tugging on its edge to reveal slick, inviting flesh to him. "What about now?"
Knutr's cock surged upward, slapping against his lower belly, his curse adding to Thyra's deep, resonant purr.
"I wouldn't have taken you for a deviant." Her haunch fell over the appetizing sight of her vent, yet it failed to muffle the bite her strong scent carried. So, she did not say that in jest. She truly hadn't allowed tongue, tail, toy, nor water to wash deeper than the superficial surface of her sex, oblivious to what happened inside.
Or so Knutr assumed, given the potency of even a single whiff of her teasing aroma.
"Why? Afraid I'd invoke my rights as your handler and ask that you receive me inside?"
"Would you?" She shot back at him, her snarl not one of rage, but a subtle tease to dare him to do it.
They both turned away from one another, aware that the professional courtesy between dragon and handler had long been extinguished.
"Rest. I won't have us killed because your poor wings ache."
"Shoot your seed. I won't have my guide distracted by the memory of a dragon's insides when the battle grows thick."
"How would you even know?" Knutr foolishly tried to ease suspicion away from an action that carried mild to severe punishment, depending on the dragon he had been with. By falling on the defense, he had all but confirmed Thyra's suspicions, a mistake that could have cost him dearly, was she a choleric personality.
Knutr dwelled on that matter far less than he should have. Kallerya once again returned to his thoughts, tempting him with various poses, inviting sounds. At times, she even grew tired of his indecision, leaping on him to lay claim to her desires. Though he continued stroking himself for several minutes, the wolf always paused when his fingers reached his knot. He wouldn't moan, grunt and whimper with Thyra here to give her the satisfaction, bothersome as his persistent erection felt.
Whatever he must've dreamt faded from Knutr's sluggish mind when roused by the silent moans creeping from Thyra's location. The dragoness must had shifted to him in her sleep, her hind legs shuddering and kicking, tail tip twitching uncontrollably, eyes scrunching and relaxing in unison with her snarls and whines. The wolf would have branded that a nightmare had her strong, aromatic smell not completely engulfed their whole chamber.
Without bothering to hide his taut sheath and shapely tip peeking out of its den, Knutr pushed himself up and went a few steps to the side to assess what got Thyra so riled up.
The dragoness wasn't just soaked. She was completely drenched in the faint, translucent arousal meant to prepare a male for entrance and more. Though dragoness arousal had a pungent odor in itself, their climax smelled even stronger, and in Thyra's case, that was all too apparent. A few sneaky droplets of the cloudier, milky fluid snaked their way past her vent, her muscles constricting and shuddering as if a male was already pleasuring her. Their potency made the wolf's head swim, causing him to reel back to his bed while coughing in the shelter of his palms, dizzy with the arousal induced by the sharp-scented and inebriating honey.
"Should've washed your male-forsaken vent, you ignorant fool," he mouthed to himself, the throbs rushing through his shaft as bothersome as they were teasing.
Bundled back into his blankets, Knutr slipped a handkerchief over his nose and tried to get some shut eye, but Thyra's sudden vocalizations breached through his focus, making his nostrils aware of how rich her smell was, of how unnaturally strong the odor of her arousal was. He had been around enough females to get accustomed to their natural scent, but Thyra's surpassed them all. It was as if she had never pried her vent open to tease her insides with her tongue, or insert a toy into herself, or probe around with her tail. Her uptight demeanor hinted at a gross disregard for her instinct to breed, but no female had made it this far up in age without at least getting acquainted with their private parts.
Between the blinks of his drowsy eyes, Knutr watched the dragoness' erratic paws twitch and clench as if trying to grip onto an invisible partner. During the more noticeable quakes of her walls, a few more rivulets of fluid wormed their way out of her depths. All the while, her lips danced between snarls and hisses and mellow whimpers, filled with an assortment of emotions topped off by a severe longing to be with a male.
How many times had she been through this? No dragon had resigned to its fate better than she did, abandoning all alternatives that could provide her with a measure of relief. Her stubbornness--or better put, resilience--impressed Knutr enough to dispel his fatigue, reminding him of the price dragons paid for hatching with a modicum of control over the Elleryum thrum.
"Thyra!" Knutr called, heart pounding in his chest for interfering in such a private affair.
"Mrrah!" Thyra snapped to awareness, head jolting up, fiery eyes cracking open to regard Knutr with the venom she expected to face from her glare.
"What do you squeak so loud for, little rodent?" Thyra's haunch and wing immediately fell over the source of her shame.
The wolf's heart shrunk into a tiny speckle, his mind frozen with deep, penetrating shame when the dragoness' pupils turned to his lower body, where his erection greeted her.
"Similar dream?" Her voice sounded much softer than he anticipated, the anger marring her lips fading into dishonorable realization of who was truly at fault here.
"Seems so," Knutr lied for her benefit, blood surging faster through his temples when the dragoness' eyes found him again, calm and tempered.
"Mrh..." she growled in consternation, tucking her wing, then raising her hind leg to present familiar picture to him.
"Finish yourself off," the dragoness' head slumped back down, leaving him to his chosen course of action. "Not your fault you were born the weak gender."
Knutr's awkward chuckle made her toes fan out and her frills flare in what could have very well been excitement at entrapping her first male in her erotic web.
"It will go away on its own. There is no need to needlessly tire your leg and get it to cramp."
The lowering of her leg signaled good tidings, but her sharp glare, terrifyingly serious, begged to differ. "There is every need. You kept your seed in you since five days back, and now you're surrounded by a...by..."
"By a strong, delightful smell that might keep me up all night, I know," Knutr picked up from where she left off, the relief in her stiff, petrified posture clearly noticeable.
"I don't need a dozing dummy on my back, so milk every drop out of yourself."
"And how is that going for you, all growling and mewling like a cat caught in her first heat?"
Though it took a little to collect her trembling, adrenaline-fueled paws under her, Thyra actually pushed herself up, the rivulets of premature climax and arousal far more obvious when drooling towards the floor. "Do not make this about me. This battle is not unknown to me, but you are clearly shook."
"Can you blame me?" Knutr got onto his feet as well, one hand pointing between her legs while the other stabilized his cock to keep it from lurching in obvious want. "What male could ever settle for his hand when they are presented with that?!"
"Then..." the dragoness faltered, her apprehensive lick over her snout terribly endearing. "Enter me. Finish inside me. I'm soiled as it is."
Knutr never prepared for such brazen display, let alone request. Thyra did not even wait for his approval, already stepping next to a rise tall enough to compensate for Knutr's lesser height, head tilted to the side in disbelief.
"Do you require soft words? Affectionate licks? Those specific words your kind can't stop blabbering about?"
"How about a little decency?" Knutr's hands went to his ears, clutching them as he often did when caught in the throes of anxiety. This wasn't just a dare. No dragon in her state, wrapped in a miasma of raw need, would have made light of her condition. The way her juices flowed like strings of honey, too thick to just drop instead of forming those gooey, immensely arousing strings....
"For you? Or for myself?" She stomped at the ground nervously, the blush in her frills obvious. Her heart must have raced to the high heavens as well for inviting her handler inside her, and to feel her first cock spread her. "Come over before I regain my sense."
The uneasy patter of her claws tapping the ground and the restless flick of her crest and tail convinced Knutr to come around her side and climb his designated spot. His brow furrowed instantly, eyes scrunching shut from how much more powerful her scent was from up-close, its thickness as heavy as the texture of her climax.
"With uhm...hand or...." The wolf tried to breathe through his mouth to keep his senses from soaring to his orgasm from her smell alone.
"With your cock, like a male should." Thyra raised her tail higher, her impatience obvious in the tremors surging through her ruddy flesh. Her folds puffed up from the arousal built within her vent, the color as appealing as the glistening wetness waiting to engulf his erect cock.
"Go ahead," she turned her head around, a shallow, secretive whimper escaping her upon finding his member so eager. "Grab onto the tail if you have to."
"I'll...the haunches are fine," Knutr licked his lips anxiously, dazed by the strength of her pheromones. Normally, he'd take his time massaging his charge, tease her with his tip, get acquainted with her warmth and her fluids, but this time, he simply shoved himself in, the momentum carrying him all over Thyra's back.
The dragoness' muscles immediately tensed, her flesh molding to the feel of his invading member. Though small in girth, even a tickle was enough to make her tail jolt in excitement, her whole frame quaking as if a dragon entered her.
Knutr knew, from the moment of penetrating her, that it would be impossible to pace himself and recover, let alone halt to a stop. He was a young recruit again, his awkwardly sensitive member living its fantasy when embraced by the sweltering kiss of his first dragoness. Just like then, the immense delight of having his drenched sheath shoved all the way back by the light ridges lining her insides gave him no respite. It flared his instinct to breed, to pummel his female, to do his utmost to free his knot from its taut, oppressive prison and lodge it inside.
"Nhhahhhh!" Knutr cried out when the most vulnerable part of his member broke free, welcomed by Thyra's tightening muscles. She squeezed him so hard, so quick that his seed threatened to explode out of him right then and there. It took everything he had to keep himself on the edge of madness, to subdue his pent-up essence from spurting into his partner's depths as he continued to hump her rump.
"Ohhhhh sweet....heavens...." the wolf's claws bit into her muscular haunches, the motion of his hips picking up out of its own accord. Juices, fine and thick alike, splattered about, her wet flesh squelching audibly with each mighty shove into her soaked vent. Wrapped in her silken arousal, his completely freed knot sailed in and out of her with barely any difficulties, the dragoness' size posing difficulties only during entry.
That was Knutr's favorite part. The one where Thyra's entire frame quaked as he forced his twin lobes of hard, almost on the verge of ejaculating knot past her tugging folds. Repeated entry ought to have made that easier, but the desperate clenching of her muscles interfered with the fluidity of his thrusts, the squeezes so intense the wolf gasped and whined whenever she clamped down upon him.
Not that it deterred him. Quite the contrary, even. Since she left him no room for the semblance of a rhythm that could see them both soar to their peak at the same time, Knutr's breeding instinct fell prey to innate selfishness. His hips slapped against her, knot pounding at her quivering lips until they gave in before sailing his way balls-deep into her. He wasted no more than a second in there, her grip too intense, the warmth too great to withstand. Was it Karellya, Knutr would have surrendered himself to her flow right away, but a pervasive stubbornness of breeding this virgin female overtook Knutr, keeping his jaws tight and his knot flared with seed up until his strength failed him.
"Gr....grrrrhhhh...." Knutr's guttural growls clawed at his throat, begging to be let out in a final, explosive howl. His knot had never known such sharp, potent stimulation, accustomed to slowly being milked to completion. But Thyra's size left no room for that, the width of her vent accommodating enough for his knot to pop through with just the right amount of friction to squelch its way in, splattering her stale juices about as it did.
"Grawwwh!" The dragoness' serpentine neck shot for the roof, her feral cry echoing through the entire mine shaft. Knutr's breath caught, the clench on his cock so potent he splattered upon her back, teeth grinding together in an effort to retain his senses while his seed cascaded out of him in mighty, nigh debilitating spurts. All the while, his paws awkwardly danced for purchase, ensuring to keep his groin pressed against her vent, to squeeze every inch of him into her even as the scalding spurts of her climax spattered all over his lower half.
The smell. The rough, pungent, debilitating reek of pent-up loneliness almost undid him. There were so many nuances to it, and high above it hung the prominent sting of pheromone-filled longing. The wolf felt his mind and balance reel, the potency of his orgasm threatening to shatter his senses. His cock never ejaculated with such strong, noticeable spurts, nor had they felt as if he spewed his very soul out of his body.
By the time his seed began to waver, Knutr was as much of a mess as his heaving partner. Thyra's eyes, so full of spite and tension were now half-closed and glazed under the blanket of obvious satisfaction.
"Plop!" came the wet sound of his still erect, still spurting cock once the tie between them had been severed. With no regard to the rivulets of juices cascading down her shuddering vent, the dragoness slumped on her side, eyes closed and panting in relief.
"I'm..." Knutr's wobbling paws almost tripped on one another on his way to her. Thyra's hind paws jerked, but her tail made no motion to swat him aside when he shoved himself back into her, groaning in glee at returning where he belonged. "Not done. It takes....a few minutes."
"Does it?" Thyra rolled on her back as much as her spines allowed, regarding him with narrow, satisfied eyes. "Or is this a trick you employ with females to spend as much time inside them as you can get?"
"Does it bother you?" Knutr lifted his head to face her, one eye still shuttered in pleasure.
"Hrrf, I don't mind what I can't feel."
She turned away from him them, as if afraid to be so exposed while in his presence. Knutr smiled at that, the arch of his lips faint and lifeless after such extraordinary climax. He was completely drenched in her slime from middle downward, smelling like a triumphant male who managed to end the loneliness of this spectacular creature.
He could see it in the tightness of Thyra's jaws that she struggled to contain her questions. The motions of her frills best indicated her state of mind, alternating between excited perking and subdued sagging.
"I enjoyed you," Knutr whispered, voice barren of energy. "I enjoyed you greatly."
Thyra's picking purr was a reply on its own, but the dragoness failed to find her words, eyes awash with uncertainty.
"That makes one of us," she reverted back to her hard self, even as her inner muscles embraced him with all the passion they could muster.
***The End ***
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