FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Failing First Impressions

Part 1

For Anonymous

By Draconicon

Being a scout was not the worst job in the world, or at least, that was what Dradgien regularly told himself. It was better than some of the jobs that the Overlord offered to his underlings, and it was a hell of a lot better than being stuck back at base and waiting for the Overlord to get bored.

At the same time, it also meant going out into the hinterlands at the edge of all civilization, finding places that weren't claimed, and seeing if one could find something useful for the Overlord out there. It was not exactly a good life, and it was frequently boring, particularly when one either found absolutely nobody out there, or people that were insanely strong to be able to live in the wildernesses.

Dradgien was somewhere between the two, as a feral dragon. While not as huge as a great many of his brethren, he was large enough to be a threat, and his body was strong and lithe, with a number of horns that formed a frill and mane of spikes around his head. His dark scales often made him look like a shadow, according to some of his fellow scouts. While he didn't entirely agree, he liked the way that it made him blend into the environment while he was out and about.

This time, the Overlord had sent him to a forest supposedly rich in herbs and magical plants that would be a boon to the medical corp of the army. The black dragon had seen several different species that he recognized on the outskirts of the forest, plentiful samples of the healing fronds that some of the medics used. If there was half so much of that in the forest, with more different species of healing plants, then the Overlord would be right on the money.

But...There was something off about it all.

He couldn't quite put a claw on it, but he could tell that something wasn't right. The dragon descended from the heights, letting his wings slow and then stop as he glided to the forest's edge. He pulled them up in a quick flare, looking left and right before approaching the edge of the forest.

There. Right on the trunks facing out. There were marks in the bark, things that looked like what a feral stag might have done to mark his territory. Yet, there were no stags. Not on the breeze, at least, and he could smell things from a long way off.

He growled deep in his throat. If there was something else around here, someone else claiming territory, then his master would be most displeased. He needed to make sure that they were chased off before the rest of the army showed up.

Dradgien tilted his head back, sniffing at the spoor in the air. There were many scents, mostly of the wild variety, but he could tell that there was something else here, something that had come and gone and -

Whoosh, whoosh.

The spiraling energy of a portal nearly caught him off-guard, and would have cut into one of his wings if he had been standing any nearer to where it opened. The black dragon jumped away, coming down on all fours with his head laid low to the ground and his teeth bared in a growl.

Through the opening came a strange creature, one that looked...oddly motherly, despite the way that it was adorned. It wore little more than a loincloth across its waist, and its breasts were completely bared to the sky and sun. Antlers that were halfway between those of a moose and those of a stag pushed out of her head, and she had strangely thick fur for something that had obviously dragon-ish features in the face.

He had no idea what she was, but she was big, and she was thick in the chest and stomach. He wanted to think that it was all fat, but he could see the power with which she moved. There was muscle in there.

But still, he was a dragon. He could handle this.

"Whoever you are, go back in the portal and get out of here," the dragon growled. "This is the land of the Overlord, now."

"Hmm?"

She turned, lifting a ripped, ragged hood from her face. Eyes there started soft, then turned hard at his continued growl, met his. She frowned.

"And who is this Overlord, hmm? I don't think I remember seeing anyone else in my wood."

"It doesn't matter whose wood it was before. I'm his outrider. I'm here to claim it for him, under his authority."

"Oh, claiming under someone else's authority. How fancy. How lovely. How little I care."

He growled, but as she took another step away from the portal, it was an effort to keep that growl going. She was huge, now that he had a better chance to look at her. Beyond huge, considering that she was standing so much taller than him. Most two-leggers were about a head and shoulders above him, if he was standing normally, and if he extended his neck upwards, he was able to loom over them.

Not so with this female. She loomed over him, and the way that she glared, the way that she so carelessly dismissed him, told him that she had dealt with dragons before. He was going to have his work cut out for him.

He snorted, flexing his claws in a minor threat.

"You better care. The Overlord conquers everything. I'm just one of his scouts. Imagine the power of someone that can use a dragon as nothing more than a scout."

"Imagine how little that matters to me when a dragon tries to use the power of his boss to sound important."

"I'm important! My boss is just more important."

"And that boss isn't here, is he? Now, I'm going to keep collecting my herbs, and you're going to leave me alone."

It was the first time that he had ever been so readily dismissed in his life, and Dradgien honestly didn't know how to deal with it. All he could do was stare, flabbergasted, his jaws working soundlessly as she walked by him and past the borders of the trees. She hummed to herself as she knelt down, picking up some of the floral goods, and then moved a few steps further in.

His eyes were drawn to her round rump, to the curves that were still there, though scarred. The more he looked, the more he realized her age, probably in her early fifties in human terms. Definitely older, and definitely someone that had had a lot of experience with fighting.

Common sense told him to leave it, to go back to his master and tell the Overlord that he'd need help clearing this from the woods. Fear, on the other hand, kept him rooted there. The last thing that he needed to do now was to put himself in the awkward situation of pseudo-failure. The Overlord had done horrible things to those that had slipped even that much.

He had to try.

Lowering himself to the ground, he disappeared into the undergrowth. There was no way for her to tell where he had gone, as he was a shadow, nothing but mist in the darkness that the plants cast about them. Dradgien moved, shifted, slid along the ground, silent as the grave, and not once did she turn to face him.

Yet, when he leapt for her - and he leaped as quietly as he had snuck - she still ducked just in time, sending him rolling forward and past her, slamming into a tree at the end of it all.

...Shit.

"Was that necessary?" she asked with a grunt, getting to her feet. "Did you think that would do anything, or were you just being a petulant little child?"

"I'm taking this forest," he insisted, even though he was squirming to get back to his feet. "Whatever it takes, I'm claiming this place for my master."

"You know what? I'm getting sick of hearing of a master that's not even here. And I'm thinking that your mother would be downright mortified by your behavior. You obviously need someone to teach you how to act."

"I need nothing!"

He started to drop, to hide again, only for her to grab him by one of the horns. He yelped as he was suddenly twisted around, flipped onto his back, only for that great hand to wrap around his throat and spin him around. Flipped over so that his tail faced her instead of his head and getting the air knocked out of him by the sudden slam into the ground, he didn't even have the chance to get his legs under him before he was airborne again.

This time, she had a grip on his tail, and she was swinging him around like a club. Dradgien shouted at the top of his lungs as he hit tree, ground, tree, tree, ground, tree, branches, and then the ground again. He coughed, sputtering, panting for breath that had been knocked out of him -

"Hmm. Not enough."

And then it started again, the swinging, the slamming, the battering, the bruising. He coughed and gasped as he was flung about, hitting everything around him, each smack knocking a bit more air and a bit more consciousness out of him until there was nothing left. He slumped down, his eyes going dark, and the whoosh whoosh of a portal taking him down to sleep.

Dradgien woke with the shape of curves before him, as well as a creamy color that he felt should have been familiar but wasn't quite. The feral dragon groaned under his breath, feeling pain come after awareness, and the pain took priority over the mystery of the curves and color.

His tongue ran around the inside of his mouth, tasting blood and feeling bruises against the inside of his jaws. A tooth or two was missing, and he doubted that had been completely by accident.

What...what happened...

He started to remember, slowly but surely. The appearance of the other creature, the way that she had taken charge by beating the crap out of him. Falling unconscious...

Falling unconscious, and the sound of a portal.

He lifted his head, only to groan immediately as he was hit with perhaps the worst headache of his life. Dradgien lowered his head once more, resting his chin on a cushion that just happened to be under him, and groaned and moaned repeatedly to himself in his surprise agony.

To a greater surprise, a hand rubbed the top of his head, followed by a soft cooing that didn't seem to fit in the slightest. He forced himself to open one eye again, looking up.

It was the creature. It was looming over him, one hand on his head, the other reaching through a sack. He grunted, trying and failing to pull back, slowly becoming more and more aware of the other things around him.

Like the chains around his forelegs and hindlegs, for example, pulled tight to iron manacles that wrapped around them and kept him from pulling back. He was forced to lie there he was, and he doubted that was by accident, either.

How long have I been out? he wondered. Did she knock me out for minutes? Hours? Days?

There was no way to tell. His stomach didn't start acting up when he was resting, and he doubted that the hunger in his belly meant anything beyond the usual grumble for food when he had been resting for too long. Dradgien forced himself to open his other eye, forcing himself to look at the thing that had caught him.

She was looking down at him, too, he realized, and he shivered as she pushed his head up and back, grunting in discomfort at the way that it affected his bruised spine and neck.

"So, you're finally awake. I thought I might have beaten you a bit too much."

"Where are we?"

"My lair, of course. Where else would I take a disobedient child except to their new home?"

New home. That was not promising, and if she was using a portal to get around, that meant that they were probably nowhere near the forest anymore. That meant that any other forces of the Overlord that came looking for him would have no luck in finding him, and likely would give up long before coming anywhere near to his position.

She had effectively isolated and imprisoned him, and she had done it better than any enemy of his master than he had ever dealt with before.

A shudder ran down his spine as he realized just how bad a situation he was in. A scout was not given much in the way of support, and if he didn't figure out a way free soon...

Hell, he didn't even know what she wanted. Best to start there.

"What do you want?"

"I want to teach you a lesson...and in all honesty, I want to have a bit of fun. It's been a long time since someone has come to mama's little cave..."

She reached down to her waist, pulling at the loincloth that lay across her crotch. As soon as it shifted, Dradgien gagged.

Oh gods... He coughed, his eyes watering from the strength of her pheromones and scent. Whatever she had down there, however untouched it was, it clearly had gone untouched in the wash for some time, as well. She reeked of the female scent, and her juices must have been mixed with sweat and perhaps more down there, soaking her fur and leaving her a raunchy sort of woman, the sort that would affect anyone, even if they didn't want that sort of thing in the slightest.

He could feel his cock unwillingly parting his slit down below, pushing against the ground at the strength of her scent. He squirmed, trying to pull his head back, but she held onto his horns, making him stay in place, making him hold position as she slowly straddled his face, pressing her sex right against his nose.

"That's it, little guy. Breathe it in."

"Mmmph!"

"Don't worry. You'll learn to like it."

He didn't have a choice about whether he liked it or not. She was so strong-scented that it was burning through his head, making his mouth water in the way that only a biological urge could do. He had never been exposed to a female like this before, and he had no idea of how to deal with her. All he knew was that she was affecting him, making it harder and harder to think with anything but the growing organ between his legs. All the blood flow to everywhere else was getting cut down, hard.

He groaned under his breath as she rubbed her puffy, dark pussy against his face, smearing him with her juices, with sweat and more that had collected down there. It took everything he had to hold himself together, to not gasp down more of it, to not shiver and shudder and scream from the forced exposure to those pheromones. It was so strong, so powerfully strong, that he was almost adrift in a sea of sexual instincts.

He humped the air twice before he got control of himself, and even then, he only got that control back because she pulled back enough for a bit of fresh air to reach his nose and mouth. He sucked it in as hard as he could, forcing the clean air down his throat, sucking for more and more as the seconds ticked by.

She was laughing, he realized. Laughing gently, true, but still laughing at his 'misfortunes.'

"That's the way. Let's make sure that you stay a good boy, though. I don't want any teeth down there."

As she reached into her pouch again, he looked around. They were in some sort of underground cavern, something that was large and spacious enough that he doubted that anyone smaller than a medium dragon would have difficulty moving around in there. She certainly didn't have any issues when she stood up, her horns more than five feet below the top of the cavern, and probably further down than that, due to his bad angle for measuring.

And more to the point, he was sure that this cavern was well hidden from the outside world. One more problem with anyone finding him and rescuing him, he supposed.

She eventually pulled something out of her pouch, something golden with a single red jewel on the band. It was a ring, he thought at first, but then she slid it down along one of the horns behind his head. He felt the tightness, at first, but then -

"NNNGH!"

Then came the magic. The tingles hit him first, forcing a barrier between his body and his brain, forcing his mind to go and take a back seat compared to the rest of his instincts. His eyes felt like they went half-closed at that point, closing and slitting, and his nostrils flared, his body going against his better judgment and trying to huff up more of the pheromones in the air.

"You see, little boy, I'm more than ready for the disobedient ones," the creature said, smiling as she stroked his head, turning it to look up at her again. "I know how you boys think. You think that you can make me happy and then run off, go back to the old, bad ways again. If you think that I'm going to let you do that, then you have another thing coming, I'm afraid."

"Mmmph?"

"Now, now. Don't talk."

And just like that, his mouth seemed to slam shut on its own, holding itself tight even as he tried to speak. The fact that she had taken control of his mouth, that she had forced his snout to obey her rather than him, was more than a little terrifying, and he whimpered under his breath as he fought against that magical power.

"Now, we're going to loosen these chains. I think we can trust you with a leash and collar, but that ring will make sure that you don't do anything stupid, like trying to run off or trying to torch my pussy. Understand, boy?"

"Mmmph. Mmm-hmmm," he said, not entirely meaning to, but something pulled it out of him.

"Good, good."

As the manacles came loose, the urge to run built up, but no matter how he tried to move his legs, fore or hind, they refused to do what he ordered them to. Instead, they seemed to be bound and paralyzed, forced to go along with the commands of his captor, made to follow the orders that she gave him through the ring.

Oh gods...

She turned him around, putting him on his back so that his legs were in the air and his cock was completely exposed. She reached down with one hand, giving him a few good strokes before pulling her fingers back, holding her drenched digits to his face.

"Now, give them a cleaning, like a good boy would."

He had no choice. He had to lick his own juices off her fingers. His face blushed, his cheeks burned, but there was no way to avoid it. He licked them clean, dragging his juices off of her fingers, tasting the salty bitterness that he had rammed down the throats of other females before.

Each lick was a reminder of how little power he actually had, how far and how fast he had fallen, and it was as humiliating as he could imagine. More than that, the fact that his cock stayed hard was completely down to the pheromones that she was continuing to fill the air with, a hot, bitter, metallic sort of smell that matched with the needs that a dragoness would fill him with if she was in heat.

It didn't help when the creature pulled back her loincloth once more, her fingers rubbing over her sex as she used her other hand to pull a leash free. The way that she fingered herself, the way her juices ran sloppily down her legs, made it clearer than ever that she was enjoying his humiliation, his squirming, his forced way of learning her lessons.

"Now, you are going to be a good boy for me. A good boy for Mama Damaris. Aren't you?"

"Yes."

"Say it, dear."

"I will...be a good boy...for Mama Damaris..."

At least he had a name, now, though that would do little good in the grand scheme of things. But there was a name. That was something, right? Something.

"Yes, that's it. Good boy."

She smiled, clicking the leash to his collar before standing over him. The fact that she could loom that much, the fact that her smooth-felt horns just made her look all the more bestial and all the rougher, the fact that she was covered in more battle scars than any dragon he knew...

Somehow, she was both sexy and terrifying, and he didn't know which one to lean on more. He just knew that he wasn't in charge, and no matter what his preferences were, he wasn't going to get what he wanted.

Damaris lifted one of her feet, pressing it down on his cock. He groaned, his eyes rolling back.

"Hump my foot."

The great beast blushed, but his body was already moving, already grinding upwards. Like some little hatchling, he was made to hump against her, his body thrusting forward, his hips rising off of the stone floor and slapping his length against her sole. Every now and then, he managed to slide up and hit the curve between her toes, sliding into that space and fucking it, and it felt almost painfully good.

She laughed, shaking her head as she tilted her foot one way and then the other, forcing him to fuck the spot between her toes in different ways, forcing him to keep shifting how his hips moved in order to keep getting stimulation.

"Hehehe, that's it. Look at you. Little hatchling. You grew up without knowing your manners, and now you need to learn them all over again. But don't worry. Mama Damaris knows how to treat little ones like you. You'll learn. Oh, you'll learn."

She kept flicking his cock back and forth, using the angle of her foot to smack it or adjust it as she saw fit. The humiliation of humping someone's foot was all the more keen as he realized that there was no way for him to stop. Even as his hips started to hurt, even as they got tired from the horrible angle of grinding and thrusting, his body kept following the last order.

Hump her foot. Hump her foot. It echoed through his head, demanding that he do it, and he didn't have the willpower or the resources to fight back, to slow down, to do anything that might have given him the slightest hint of relief.

All he could do was hump and thrust, so that was what he did. Dradgien groaned under his breath, slumping his head down against the rocks.

Being in the backseat of his own mind, of his own body, was terrifying and arousing at the same time. The Overlord had done this once or twice, pushed him to the side to allow for a possession moment. The first time had been to show off the Overlord's power, the second to allow the Overlord to talk with troops through his mouth.

But this was something different. He wasn't being controlled from inside, but outside. He could still see, still think, and he was made to go along with whatever Damaris wanted.

He was right on the verge of exhaustion, his hips about to give out, when she finally told him to stop. The black dragon slumped down to the ground again, huffing, puffing, panting.

"Heh, you have some staying power, I'll give you that. I can say that's the mark of a future 'good boy.'" The antlered creature smiled as she sat down, spreading her legs over his crotch. He felt the heat and the puffiness of her sex against him, and his cheeks burned as she started sliding forward and back. "Of course, it's one thing when you can last for a while under a foot. Let's see how long you can last under mama's pussy."

She slid forward, back, forward, back, her great heft and weight making her jiggle every so often as she did. Her tummy wobbled, her breasts bounced, and her puffy pussy seemed to grow all the more engorged every time that she ground against his cock.

He could feel her scent sinking into his scales, forcing his cock harder and harder with each passing second. Dradgien groaned as her juices slicked up his cock, forcing it to get wetter, slimier, almost like he was dragging it through a swamp.

And then, she finally shifted her angle. One slide forward, catching his cock with some fold or other, then sliding back -

"MMMPH!"

And then, he felt her. The sheer warmth of her insides, the heat that churned and pulsed and squished around him in a way that a dragoness did not. He could feel the age difference between them, the wrinkles and the texture to her inner walls so different from those of his own species.

More to the point, he could feel how loose she would have been to most other species. Even to him, even with all he had to offer, she felt more open, and only the control that she had over her muscles kept her tight enough for fucking. He grunted, biting his lips as much as he could with the control she had over him, shivering and huffing as she grabbed his hindlegs for leverage.

"Let's see just how long you last, my pet..."

He puffed under his breath, feeling her sliding up his cock again, feeling how she clenched down with such supreme control compared to the dragonesses that he had felt, compared to the kobolds that worked him over. Sure, others were tighter, but this woman had something else. Something insanely strong as she worked him -

Squish.

The slapping feeling of her pussy coming back down his cock was so different, so hard, so firm. She was in control, and she wasn't afraid to let him know it. She slammed her hips down, she ground his hips into the rock, she forced him right back down and kept him there as he grunted and squirmed.

Up again, and he saw the rivers of her juices running out of her pussy, running over his cock and into his slit. He could feel how hot and wet she was, how much she needed him. In a way, it almost gave him confidence.

Confidence that was taken away as she slammed down on him again, forcing him right back into the ground, splashing her juices off his crotch and towards his face. Some droplets landed right over his nose, and he arched his back, trying and failing to thrust into her as his instincts came to the fore.

"Ah ah."

She pulled on his leash, pulling his head back up, forcing his back to bend the other way so he couldn't thrust. Not once did she shift her position, or let him get off the ground, or pull herself up so that he wasn't being crushed. No, she maintained all of her control as she dragged his head up to look her in the eye.

"You aren't going to move. You're just going to sit there. I want you to hold very still for mama. Understand? You hold still, or you're going right back between my thighs and drowning, hmm?"

"..."

"Do you understand, boy?"

"Yes..."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, Mama."

"Good boy."

She patted his cheek, giving him enough slack to slide back down to the ground. No sooner was he flat on his wings again than she'd resumed her riding, slamming her hips down against him hard enough to knock the air right out of his lungs.

Up, down, up, down, squish, squelch, squish, squelch. The sounds were so loud, so wet, so completely naughty, and it was hard to think of anything besides that constantly writhing pussy wrapped around his cock. She was tormenting him. She was breaking him.

Up, down, up, down, forcing him to penetrate her, forcing him to fill her up. Every time that he managed to see her face, he could see the pleasure that it was giving her, the bliss that came with his cock deep inside of her. There was no question that Damaris needed this sort of fucking, no question that she was enjoying it.

Each thrust made another wet squish, another hot splash of her juices. Every little slick rivulet of her fem-juices puddled around the base of his cock before running either down between his legs or up against his stomach. The fragrant nature of it was marking him, erasing his own musk, turning his cock into nothing but a dildo for her.

Up and down, up and down, his hips aching, complaining against the hard ride that she was putting him through. Her fingers interwove with his toes, using his hind paws as a handle to ride him.

Up and down, up and down, drawing him deeper, sometimes stopping at the base to grind on him and push her puffy, juicy clit against his scales before pulling herself up again. Up and down, up and down.

Dradgien gasped for breath, his head slumped back against the ground. He wanted to fight, to claw, to burn, but -

"Be a good - ah - good boy. Stay down. Stay down and stay hard."

It was impossible to fight against the control she had on him, impossible to do anything but lie there. Even as he was getting pulled towards the inevitable conclusion, his hips didn't twitch the way that they always did when a female was between them, didn't do anything like they were supposed to.

He laid there, feeling the bubbling need rising higher and higher in his cock. How long had he lasted? Five minutes? Ten? It had to be at least ten, right? Maybe even fifteen. Up, down, up, down, up, down. He groaned as he felt the slipperiness getting worse and worse, feeling like he was getting slammed into some sort of swamp beast more than anything else.

And yet, for all that he complained, he was about to cum. Dradgien held back for those few more seconds that he could, but it was too much, too fast. Finally, he moaned, cumming into her depths.

Damaris didn't stop moving, and if he hadn't been told to be good, he would have been screaming. Those slippery walls went from being too loose, too smooth in places to being the worst possible thing. Like a handjob that went on too long or a blowjob that became too aggressive when climax was achieved, she kept fucking herself on him, forcing him into her depths, using his cock as a piston to force all of his seed as deep as it could go.

And she did - not - stop! Dradgien was screaming in his head, some bit of the scream coming out through clenched teeth and lips, and Damaris smiled.

"I told you to stay hard, little boy. Now, don't go soft just yet...Mama has a lot of riding to do."

The hours dragged on, and through them all, he could do no more than squirm.

In the first hour, he screamed as much as his clenched teeth would allow him, going from bliss to hell and back again. She never stopped riding his cock, never stopped grinding down on him. The only bit of relief came when she slowed down on hitting her own climaxes, but that only happened twice in the first hour.

During the second, she twisted around, riding him backwards. He had a perfect view of her ass, but that was hardly a good thing, considering it made him harder and more eager, and thus all the more sensitive.

After the third hour, he lost count of how long she kept riding him. He was pretty sure that he slid in and out of consciousness, too, awake, then asleep, then awake again, never quite aware of what was going on, never quite sure what was happening except for the fact that Damaris was using him like the toy he was.

The feral dragon wasn't sure how many times he came, but at some point, he started shooting blanks. He could feel the ache of the orgasms starting to replace the pleasure, could feel the pain start to replace the ache.

At some point, the ring on his head stopped being able to suppress his screams, but they did him no good. When he finally started shouting, when he couldn't stop, the only relief he got was her swampy, sweaty, smelly pussy shoved down on his face, his own loads coming out of her in a flood down his throat.

For the mostly-broken dragon, that was fine. Anything that gave his cock a break was completely fine with him.

The End