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This is a quickie story commission Nulkurrak has done for kitsugen

Description: At her wit's end with the male wyverns crossing her territory and desecrating her dens with their seed during their mating season, Zheradra traps one such specimen to give a good thrashing, only to discover that her victim is a little female at the height of her heat.

Zheradra (c) and the nameless wyvern belong to Nulkurrak

***Heated Encounter***

Similar to stalking narrow-minded prey, Zheradra skulked around the entrance of the occupied den, keeping her toes relaxed and her claws at bay so that her footfalls landed on the cushy surface of her plump pads. Rather than stop and reconsider her course of action by the side of the gaping blackness that now housed a potentially dangerous wyvern, the dragoness gulped down the tight apprehension lodged up her throat before strolling into the familiar darkness of her lair.

The soft snoring wafting from the bottom of the main chamber revealed the wyvern's vulnerable state far in advance of her eyes. The glare of noon's sunlight still veiled her sight in a blanket of shimmering greens and blues, a weakness that a savvier predator would have definitely exploited to better their chances at convincing the natural owner of the lair to leave them be.

Like all things in life, opportunities quickly faded for those not agile enough to seize them, more so for slumbering fools prone to getting themselves killed in their sleep. Her pupils wide enough to somewhat pierce through the gloom, Zheradra unfurled her wings, blotting out the shafts of light peering into her den, both to ready herself for her pounce and give the intruder an opportunity to retaliate. In response, the bundled wyvern's paws twitched and clenched, tail curling tighter around itself, its eyelids tensing in conspicuous ignorance with Zheradra's presence.

Interesting. She had never known a creature to fall prey to dreams in an instant while in foreign territory, yet this wyvern seemed to contradict everything she had learned of their kind. No longer in need to sneak around, Zheradra's steps lost their grace, her claws pattering ominously on her way to the wyvern's lighter colored feet. This particular breed had three long toes and a shorter dew claw, particularly useful for mounting, she reckoned. Her snout hovered an inch from the soft, beige underside of those curled toes, half-torn between testing the soft, appealing texture there or leave the wyvern blissfully ignorant.

The dragoness chose the latter, distracted by the surreally strong smells coming from between its haunches. Sharp, fragrant, almost choking from up-close, Zheradra's lips wrinkled with an instinctive snarl as she breathed in the pheromone-laden concoction, subduing her growl as much as she could while letting the potent odor swirl through her nostrils. This little thing was no male, but a female, her pungent odor betraying her secret long before Zheradra spotted the rivulets of trickling wetness sneaking past the sides of her fever-struck vent. Like in the case of dragons, female wyverns bore more neutral, earthy flavors, relying on that raw, blood-stirring aspect compared to the spicier musk of the males. Zheradra's own arousal seemed diluted by comparison, dwarfed by the curtain of wyvern heat slowly overtaking the humid, stale ambiance of her tranquil lair.

This revelation complicated matters. Fighting and throwing a male out of her den was one thing, but a female...especially one brought well past the boundaries of exhaustion in her efforts to keep their seed away from her far too appealing entrance...

Uncertain on how to proceed, Zheradra rounded the sleeping wyvern, taking in her features. Her face appealed to her the most, for it had the light, angular shapes that best defined a female, mellow yet imposing. Two pairs of horns, the bottom one roughly half the length of the other, curled back over her skull in a soft, elegant curve, flecked at the very top with a sprinkle of dark gold. A few short, stubby spikes lined the back of her jaws, a miniature copy of her horns in terms of color, small and endearing. The same curious pattern embellished the edges of her wing membranes, their top as dark as her scales with their inside a more welcoming tan color also present on her throat, belly and undertail, fading halfway on the length of her tail.

This one had two wing claws, one slightly longer than the other, their tips dotted with barely perceptible spots of gold, same as her talons. Zheradra considered leaving her to her dreams, the pang of guilt swirling in her chest all but preventing her from disturbing a fellow female caught in a predicament she had had to weather as well. She seemed too small to defend herself, her strong haunches and sharp talons her only means to fend off the stronger, more persistent males.

She is still a trespasser, in need to be dealt with accordingly, Zheradra reasoned, licking her lips in barely restrained curiosity from tasting her first wyvern.

Perhaps it was more prudent to first gauge her personality. To discover the reason for making herself at home in one of her dens instead of locating a more crammed but emptier one. Though it seemed obvious to her, leaking from the rift hugged by her puffy, exposed lips, this wyvern might just surprise her in more ways than one, so it paid to keep her options open.

Zheradra attempted to rouse her guest by nuzzling the side of her haunch, then licked it when the light touch failed to trigger a reaction. As expected, that got the wyvern's startled attention.

A sharp, panicked yelp burst out of her little snout, followed by a swift twist of her body that immediately surrendered the pale of her belly to the superior predator, wings and limbs limp under the scrutiny of the towering dragon.

"The entire middle of this chamber used to be covered in pelts," Zheradra eyed the conspicuous patch of cold, dark stone in which the wyvern sprawled in the absence of her best and widest of pelts. "I had to toss them away, one by one, as they fell prey to the nightly pleasures of your kind. At least you had the acumen to keep your dripping folds away from what remained of them, so that merits some consideration."

The way her paw jerked back at the first touch of Zheradra's tongue upon the tip of a toe told Zheradra all she needed to know about her new friend. Docile as a doe, skittish as a rabbit, and fierce only in terms of her smell. No more strategy was needed to pry anything else, yet she still couldn't abstain from giving the other paw a try, just in case.

That one jerked back even further, enough to almost connect with her snout, the agile little thing.

"You're not simple, I hope," Zheradra voiced her most immediate concern as she circled her quarry in search of other venues. Her wings, perhaps? Those wide membranes connecting the frame of her wing looked even more impressive from up-close, making hers look paltry and ineffective by comparison.

"Because things would get dull between us very quick."

"Simple?" She spoke at last, her tone as subtle as her fine underbelly scales. "I'm...I'm simply passing through."

"Offering your belly to the first stranger that sneaks up on you while you're asleep doesn't much seem like you simply want to traverse this dangerous part of my territory as fast as possible. Was I a male, I'd argue that you might have an ulterior motive for surrendering to a dragon."

"What...what motive?" The wyvern's tapered tongue dashed across her lips, a gesture that many creatures did to temper their fright. "I do not wish to fight. I have never fought. I'm...no good at it, so I...I try to..."

Try what? The sensible course of action in her case was to remain home, where she was safe, not engage in whatever madness drove the other wyverns through these parts.

Though she normally preferred to take her time in understanding the motives and personality of those she took an interest in, this wyvern was an antsy, peculiar creature. Her distrust posed the greatest challenge for Zheradra to overcome, so instead of dragging things out for the sake of pleasant foreplay, Zheradra cut straight to her foremost thought.

Since the wyvern already surrendered herself to her will, there was nothing stopping the dragoness from stepping over to her hindquarters and beyond, the membrane of her splayed wings warm and pleasant to the pads of her paws. The wyverness' head further recoiled, expecting some fierce display of dominance, only for Zheradra to turn and have her own moist vent stare her down instead. While in this privileged position, she reached down with her snout to place a quick, teasing lick upon the wyvern's drenched, swollen folds, no longer able to withhold her curiosity.

The wyverness immediately stiffened, her maw gaping in shock while Zheradra reeled on her feet, dizzy from the sheer strength of her smell and taste.

"Hrrrrhhh!" Zheradra loosened a simmering growl, the taste of wyvern only now registering in full force. Light shudders shook her jaws, the tart, stale flavor of heat overpowering upon the first tongue that licked it. Her wings shook ever so lightly, toes clenching to suppress lustful growl raking at the back of Zheradra's throat, begging to be unleashed.

The wyverness must have noticed something was off, for her wings swung against Zheradra's flanks, the soft blows barely an inconvenience. All it took was an icy glare from Zheradra for her companion's wings to fall back into place, yet the same couldn't be said of her rebellious paws that kept trying to get a hold of anything they could grab onto.

"Leave me be," the wyverness drew upon hidden reserves of courage, her words carrying the bite her maw was too cowardly to deliver. "Stop...whatever this is supposed to be. It's degrading for me, nauseating to you and...and..." she again licked her snout in nerves, or perhaps in veiled interest with Zheradra's next course of action, given the encroaching swirls of a single paw that threatened to brush against her waiting, eager sex.

"Lounge back. Close your eyes. The only thing I expect to hear from you next is your roar as I free you from this terribly taxing burden."

To first prepare her for what was to come, the dragoness' snout alighted upon the exposed folds of the wyverness, touching their moist surface to savor the feel of slick flesh upon her receptive lips. Their warmth surpassed hers, as did the hefty smell of the film of arousal, fresh or otherwise, spread across the surrounding area of her entrance. A little more accustomed to the nature of a smell grown stronger with each passing day of neglect from the young, ignorant female, Zheradra breathed it in through short inhales to better analyze it. Earthy flavors, unaccountable in their strange hues, combined with the roughness of a first heat, blending into a potent concoction that stirred her blood with its unique aroma.

Not even a few agitated heartbeats spent between the wyvern's legs, and the haunches of the timid creature already began spreading further. Zheradra barely touched her, and still, the wyverness' imagination of what was to come sent her tail into erratic swishes, tailhole clenching rapidly in anticipation of finally being pierced.

Not yet. Not before Zheradra introduced her to the addictive nature of well-placed licks.

"Yawwrrrrr!" her wyvern companion tossed her head back as far as it went. The clack of her horns against stone told Zheradra as much while her tongue swept over her generous folds, bathing their plump, shuddering form with warm affection. The copious amounts of gooey arousal stuck to her tongue like liquid webs, each flick messier than the last and twice as addictive. There was something primal about bathing the vent of a wyvern who never licked herself, a gripping, sizzling excitement that flared her lust and muddied the thoughts, until all she craved for was more of that addictive juice.

That frenzy only lasted for a few strokes. The thicker, drier patches of heat coating the outer regions of her sex provided no fuel for Zheradra's own fire that boiled deep within her underbelly muscles. To sate her wild thirst, she had to probe deeper for true value, the hard smells trapped between the wyvern's lips beckoning to her.

Zheradra's forepaws pushed against the wyvern's stubborn haunches, holding them at bay while she attempted to poke her tongue through her tightly sealed folds, the twin tips of her tongue meeting difficulty with the surreal tightness of the wyvern's virgin pussy. To give more heft to her attempts, she pressed her snout tight against her sex, tonguing the narrow crevice separating her lips until her clamped muscles relented.

Sharp, keening cries came from behind the dragoness, muffled by the throbs cascading through her temples. With the wyvern's much warmer insides exposed, Zheradra's tongue speared right into her taut depths, instantly assaulted by fierce grips and sudden clenching of her powerful muscles that sought to strangle the invading appendage. Only, she was no male, to be pushed over the edge and surrender his seed. The wyverness understood that better than anyone, writhing under Zheradra's oppressive bulk while the dragoness slurped, snarled, hissed and feasted on the thicker, heavier, far stronger product of her heat.

To better facilitate her entry, Zheradra's toes hooked on the edges of the wyvern's pussy, soft pads spreading her entrance open for the pleasure of her hungry tongue. With her flesh bare before her, the dragon's snout bucked into her target to lap at the silky, lightly ridged insides of the wyvern, reaching as deep as she could go to collect the mucous, cloudier arousal present in the deeper reaches of those slightly textured walls.

This abrupt, repeated entrance came not without cost. As the jerks of the wyvern's body picked up and her mewls of elation dimmed, the intensity of the spasms traversing her companion's insides became far too apparent, leaving her with but one option.

To plunge her tongue as deep as she could to provide enough girth for the wyverness to clamp down upon when her orgasm finally hit her.

That happened almost instantly, for her inner emptiness had never craved for something as intensely as the urge to be filled. A mighty shrill followed a second after, accompanied by the mad flutter of wings, kicking paws and thrashing tail. Her very pussy lurched against Zheradra's snout, as if begging for reprieve from the swirling motions of her tongue that did its best to prolong the blaze of glory she experienced. The desperate milking motion of the wyvern's walls increased the intensity of Zheradra's own shudders, their ominous build-up making her entire body tremble with the acute awareness that she sat dangerously close to the precipice of release.

As the wyvern's tremors died down, Zheradra's were just picking up, urgent in their demand to be quelled. The wyvern's zesty taste flooding her maw further enflamed the prickles of yearning gnawing at her insides, driving the dragoness to rub herself against the wyvern's scaled chest to keep that addictive glow smoldering through her nether lips alive. While the rougher texture of scales appeased to her smooth flesh that begged to be rid of that persistent itch, that superficial pleasure failed to fully satisfy her. Like the wyvern, she required something tight and firm lodged inside her, and the little female had just the thing.

Pushing her hindquarters off the wyverness' chest on jittery paws brimming with equal amounts of nerves and lust, Zheradra guided her sex against the wyvern's snout, making her demand painfully clear. She serviced her, so it was only natural the wyvern took her turn as well.

It might have taken a few curious, timid nuzzles bereft of exciting licks, but just like in Zheradra's case, her companion's hunger for the exotic outmatched any notion of pacing she might have held. Addicted to the subtle, fragrant touch of the thick film of arousal engulfing her smooth sex, the wyvern's tongue launched into a volley of feverish licks, lapping away as much of her juices as she could. Sharp, desperate sniffles broke past her flared nostrils, now pressed tight against her entrance while her tongue tried bold, far too sudden tactics.

Zheradra never expected to be penetrated so fast and so deep, so much so that her hindquarters jerked and bucked into the source of her unexpected gratification. A rough, shuddering growl broke loose from the dragoness, head jerking upward, already preparing to roar in overwhelm at being so thoroughly conquered. Yet the smaller female failed to press deeper, limiting herself to the more shy, hungry licks across the shallow, wider portions of her walls, feasting on the tendrils of slimy arousal with audible gulps.

So close. She was so close! If only...a little further...

Her chest compressed by the breaths the urgency to climax caged therein, Zheradra started to thrust and hump the wyvern's snout, its angular shape so fulfilling in the spreading of her lips it coaxed a sharp cry of bliss from her. Her desperate actions stunned the wyvern, taken aback by the roughness of the lust-addled dragoness. That only lasted for a few sways of her hips though, for at the fourth attempt, the customary whines and hisses returned, her snout turning away from its task.

No...no! Not now! Not when she was about to...

Zheradra's first reaction to her problem was to return to the familiarity of her earlier method by reaching with her tongue for the wyvern's pussy. As expected, the first climax didn't fully drain her, but merely broadened the sensitivity of her quivering folds, her flesh as eager to receive wet attention as ever. She did not penetrate this time. Her intent was to control, to guide the wyvern's snout back into position, to teach her that pleasure begot pleasure.

The little addict immediately set to work, her musical warble interrupted by growls of lust and whimpers of pleasure while she feasted on the insides of Zheradra's soppy sex. The squelching sounds of wet flesh pressing against scales wafted through the cavernous chamber as Zheradra resumed that instinctual humping motion. Though fluid at first, their elegance began to dwindle the hotter the fire amassed within her underbelly burned, turning rougher, less controlled, almost wild.

Feeling herself close to finally slipping, Zheradra sought to further fan her flames by parting the wyvern's folds open with her paws and shove her snout against her entrance, breathing her choking heat in as deep as she could within her chest.

That did it. The hit of raw pheromones slammed so hard against her senses her gathered lust burst out of her in a fiery, stinging squirt. Zheradra yowled in overwhelming bliss, shoving her vent against her companion's tightly sealed snout, rubbing her shuddering folds against it to prolong that unimaginably potent sensation of raw exuberance.

As soon as her high dwindled enough for her gasp to explode from her slack maw, Zheradra willed her bulk to tilt left and crash on her side, numb with the soothing afterglow and guilt both. She kept her eyes shut for the moment, still reeling from the surreal scenario, wondering whether it was all a fantasy or if she actually rubbed her sex against the wyvern's face, all to stoke her perverse pleasure. Her heavy panting mirrored her disorderly emotions, deep and fatiguing in their complexity.

She had to make amends. To apologize, to lick her clean, to...

Zheradra's eyes snapped open, stirred by the rustle of soft scales against her chest. The wyverness' shy eyes met hers for the briefest of moments before her gaze dipped while her head tried to work its way under a forelimb. Zheradra eased it to the side, and in the next second, the little female dug her petite head under her jaw, warbling in puzzling fulfillment.

Zheradra had no answer to the curious display other than pulling her closer and licking the side of her neck, as her first partner had once done when she used to be the little scared female.

"You've grown to enjoy the attention of one's tongue, I take it?" Zheradra tried to take her mind off that gloomy memory by steering herself back to the present.

"Mrrr, a little," the wyverness grumbled, still irate with her breach of custom. "But you're a dragon, and a female at that, and I...I could learn a few things from you."

Such as how handle her heat, for one, Zheradra wanted to say, but kept that thought sheltered behind her fangs. Not yet. Not until she handled it for her a few more times.

***The End ***

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