Heat's Whims chapter 1
This is a story series commission I'm doing for SaphiraFafnar
Description: Zheradra's heat has reached peak levels. She can no longer rest, summon the will to hunt, nor do anything much other than languishing in her lair. The local dragons all seem futile prospects, but there is one that might serve her needs just fine.
Zheradra(c) belongs to me
Xigfeldo(c) belongs to https://www.furaffinity.net/user/saphirafafnar
***Heat's Whims Chapter 1: Unrest***
Zheradra never expected heat to be that bothersome while on her own. Alnavir, the human who raised and named her, had ensured that she did not have to endure fretful nights thanks to the use of his arm and fingers, but nooo, she wanted to prove herself to him! To show him that she could live as any other dragon in the wilderness for a year; that she did not depend on him for shelter, protection, food and other redundant delights.
Better yet. She wouldn't rely on her kin either, however helpful or pestering they might be if some form of redundant courtship was to happen.
How wrong she had been. As a dragon, securing and defending a territory from her smaller, less intelligent competition came the easiest. Hunting posed some difficulties at first, but her training with Alnavir eventually secured her enough meals to sustain herself initially and later on, to thrive. Her heat, however, took her completely by surprise. Without Alnavir to help her tame it, Zheradra's sweltering vent itched, leaked its honey and burned so bright that she could seldom keep her eyes closed for more than a few moments at a time. Her eyelids instinctively flung open, and her head kept jerking towards the source of her frustrations, intent on soothing herself with her tongue.
But to what end? She could lick off the arousal, but more would flow later. By using the paw pads on her forepaws, she could stroke and rub herself to climax, yet that took so long, and felt so unfulfilling compared to what Alnavir accomplished! So, today, she decided to just ignore her need completely and push it to the farthest corner of her mind in the hope that the sensations at the base of her tail would diminish.
They didn't. In fact, they became stronger and more demanding, until Zheradra finally scrambled onto her feet and left for Xigfeldo's territory after a night with barely any sleep. Much as she disliked relying on another for such intimate issue, Xigfeldo's species, personality and even more curious gender made him surprisingly fit for this task. As a maned dragon native to a continent Zheradra had only heard of in Alnavir's stories, he had no ties to any other dragons living in the vicinity, and because he possessed both male and female parts, he understood how to soothe such needs better than anyone.
It was only during flight that Zheradra's pulsing need dwindled to a faint speck of what amounted to a blaze just an hour or so ago. Her eyes strained on navigating through the darkness, her wings stinging with the effort to press on against the stubborn currents, Zheradra employed all her available resources to track down Xigfeldo, relying on landmarks to reach the first place where she first encountered the onyx-colored dragon, atop a crag bordering her territory.
"Your patience with your heat must be significantly thin," Xigfeldo teased as he landed beside her while the dragoness still recovered her labored breath, as tall and imposing as Zheradra, if not more so. Belonging to one of the rarer breeds, he had a long, tapered muzzle with cheeks edged by clumps of fur as dark as his scales. His agile limbs and sleek constitution, although built for alacrity, gave him enough strength and weight to win a brawl against not one, but two dragons of Zheradra's smaller size.
"I'm not here to pester you about your choices, however confusing they may seem to me," he responded to her snarl with a shallow, amicable smile, inviting her away from the cliff and to the grassier, more even portions.
How did he even find her in the cloak of darkness, without the sun's rays to reveal speckle of her crimson scales or a flash of her golden stripes? Not even Zheradra fully understood where she was, stopping on what should have been Wolfmaw Crag to survey the landscape.
"Your smell," the black dragon's golden gaze pointed at her curling tail, as if that hopeless maneuver could help diminish its intensity. "If the wind carries it in the right direction, expect company. Though I suppose you've taken care of that early in the conquering of this territory."
"Hrrf," Zheradra snorted, noting the flattened patch of grass where Xigfeldo had undoubtedly lied down for the night. It was as if he had expected her, knowing that she'd succumb to the whims of her instinct sooner rather than later.
The truth of his debauchery, of stalking her like some vulnerable prey, stiffened Zheradra's muscles, her frills wide with in threatening display.
"You sought me," Xigfeldo coolly reminded her of the truth of their encounter. "Consider my foresight a beneficial coincidence instead of jumping to conclusions. Appealing as your scent is, my interest in you is of a more...protective manner."
Zheradra growled in derision at how ridiculous that sounded. She needed no lofty replacement for Alnavir, merely guidance on how to tame the urge that no human could accurately answer to. Xigfeldo, however, possessed both genders. Surely he, of all dragons, could help sate this burning need dripping out of her at this very moment.
"At least give my words some consideration. No dragoness wrestles herself from the comfort of her den to visit a stranger on the cusp of morning unless she has a pressing need, yes?" Xigfeldo flicked his crest. Whether it was the cool predawn breeze or his uncanny ability to control it, Zheradra could never tell.
"Mrrrrm," Zheradra rumbled her acceptance with his ploy, remaining up on her feet, wings tense and ready to see her to better company.
"Independence does not happen overnight. Not to humans, not to the furred bipeds, not even to dragons. Relying on others is what differentiates us from mere beasts," Xigfeldo rushed this next part, much as he loathed being hurried, upon noting her crest, flared in dismay.
"Why else are you here, then, if not for companionship that may lead to something more?"
Zheradra's growl had a defeated tint to it, a clue that failed to make it past the uncannily astute black dragon.
"Understanding oneself is the hardest of challenges," Xigfeldo said, retreating to his patch of flattened grass, giving her the required freedom to make her own choice. An easy one, for sure. She came here expecting a more physical approach, not a seminar like that of a human scholar.
"Perhaps Zala is a better choice for you. She's young, spontaneous, more deeply rooted into her instincts, whereas I..." the at least a century old dragon proceeded to roll around, kick his paws, and grab at his tail like a juvenile awestruck with how impressive his tail tip tuft had grown. "Tend to look deeper into things."
If only his tongue pierced her as deep as she wished... Though her limbs primed with the urge to launch her into the sky and head back to her den for another sleepless night, Zheradra's wings hesitated. She cared little for lofty, unnecessary platitudes and even less so for that squeaky bundle of never-depleting enthusiasm with dragons that Zala was, but both of them helped take her mind off her state. Perhaps utter boredom truly was an elegant solution to her problem!
"Is that why you brought her with you? To incessantly pester other dragons until somebody turns her into a meal?"
"Mmm," Xigfeldo's motions came to a stop, his slender toes curled in thought. "They may try. She's surprisingly agile."
Zala, that most lascivious and pestering brat. Zheradra had never seen her like, nor hear accounts of that species of Plainstrider called a Salazuchi. She looked closer to Xigfeldo than to any of the dumb yet tasty flightless birds that made up that species, but since her limited knowledge couldn't place Zala, Zheradra accepted her limitations.
"So am I," Zheradra stepped in front of Xigfeldo, bowing in challenge. For this to work, the initiator had to hold the gaze of their opponent until a response was given, but she floundered. Like always, Zheradra could hardly restrain herself from stealing a glimpse of his sex. The pink line that elegantly pried open the plates of his underbelly gave nothing away, as did his mellow scent. To her untrained nostrils, he smelled as gentle as a female. Looked like one, even, gracefully proportionate.
"Rrrrrm, I have no doubt about that," the black dragon's familiar thrum, always to flare into existence whenever Xigfeldo pondered on some matter, caressed Zheradra's hearing. "But I still encourage you to first seek the familiar, then the exotic. Zala does love stealing the attention of your nobler kind, even if it isn't the positive sort. That is what makes her so intriguing!"
Zheradra never met a dragon so unwilling to frolic with another. It was a struggle to even keep males at a distance if the circumstances prevented her from outflying them, but Xigfeldo seemed to draw perverse satisfaction from toying with her so. Zala might have been his protégé, but she was no dragon. She wasn't even...
No. Wait. The gifts. Her persistence. She...she grew infatuated with a dragon who rejected, tail slapped and roared her out of her den on a daily basis?!
"I'm not one to get between the curiosity of a female with another," Xigfeldo practically beamed, continuing his side to side, surprisingly entrancing swaying. "Give her a chance. Or at least sate her burning novelty with you. It may very well be the most pleasurable experience you've gone through."
"Graarrh!" Zheradra bared her fangs at the mere suggestion of such an outlandish thing. "I'd rather eat whatever her scrawny haunches hold."
"Assuming you would catch her. Her kind hunts in packs, but like you, Zala prefers to be solitary when fending off the needs of the body. She wishes to eat you too, just...in a different way, limited to a particular portion of your underbelly."
That got Zheradra's scales tingling, however nonsensical it sounded. Then again, it was Xigfeldo who had guided Zala into Zheradra's territory, as if aware that the need of two very different females might bring them together. As a smaller predator accustomed to presenting her belly to the larger, intelligent, terrifying kind, Zala's pink feet went up in the air as soon as Zheradra tracked her down, whining her apology for invading her hunting grounds. Her heat saved her a singed crest that day. Not the one summoned by the show of swirling lilac flames she could conjure and mold into dazzling balls, but the spicier type. The never-ending stream pouring from the depths of her aching vent longing to be filled.
"It's not uncommon for a dragon to find solace in the embrace of another species," Xigfeldo gave voice to the nagging concern that had plagued Zheradra all this time. "Her claws are careful, her tongue skilled, and her purr soothing. At least use her for a pillow, if not for the other pleasures she provides."
She did. Zala herself came up with the initiative, undoubtedly used to the light weight of Xigfeldo's head leaned against her chest. The best part of bundling up with the Salazuchi for the night had to be her claws. The ones on her feet, short and supple, provided the most enticing scratching at the harder scales of her haunches, but the real prize were those long claws adorning her middle finger. Just feeling those sharp, natural weapons able to eviscerate prey trail over her rustling neck scales filled Zheradra with the most calming of shudders, a vulnerability that Zala understood far too well and took advantage to slowly whittle away the dragoness' doubt of exposing herself to her tongue.
"She is...resourceful," Zheradra admitted, the webbed spines cresting her nape folding a tad, struck by melancholy. Torn between accepting Zala's overbearing and frivolous ways or disregarding them for the unnecessary distractions they provided, the red dragoness settled on her side, rump facing the wind. The chilly current lapping at her folds bothered her more than it soothed her warmth, the contrast too great, its ethereal touch bereft of any satisfying friction.
"I don't seek companionship, much less the permanence of a bond." Zheradra's flame-shaped tail tip swished restlessly through the grass, mirroring her unrest with how her instinct begged her to forsake her struggle without giving it her best.
"But...what else do you think follows?" The sleek as a shadow dragon passed by her haunches without tilting his head in the direction of that tempting source of persistent pheromones. "How do you envision the life of a wild dragon? It's tame, uneventful, predictable until the very end when nestled within the more secluded and peaceful parts of the continent."
Xigfeldo lowered himself next to her, the paw shifting over hers steady, lacking any sort of trepidation or hesitation in making physical contact with her wrist. "I gave it up long, long ago, right after I learned of how accomplishing traveling the world feels."
How convenient, for the winds of fate to carry him right into her territory, one for which she bled for. Even in the dimness of predawn, Xigfeldo's eyes took note of her mistakes, forever etched between her scales like pink, disgusting worms.
"Fighting was never something I understood either. Most dragons have better ways to settle disputes, and even if it comes to physical engagement, fangs and claws aren't the only means of deciding who wins and who loses. Every conflict I ever sparked ended in a draw, the mutual benefits quite...satisfactory for the both of us."
Just not in her case.
Zheradra couldn't bring herself to reveal the truth of her thoughts. Of how dire her urge to let him be the one to groom her grew. The duality of his gender further added to that, making him able to play whatever role was needed at the time. There must have been a reason as to why he hesitated, hidden in his enigmatic golden orbs, or perhaps shrouded in the pleasant warmth oozing from his paw and into her, but Zheradra's limited experience with other dragons made it impossible for her to dig up the answer.
And still, his methods beckoned to Zheradra. They pushed her closer to him until their flanks met in a gentle rustle. The pads of her forepaw slid over the small scutes protecting his slender toes, offering him the same proof of acceptance that he favored her just moments ago.
"I did not come to you to seek wisdom regarding Zala. I came to you to seek...you..."
"And why is that?" Xigfeldo's snout was just inches from her, still, regal, confident. "Is it because of my species? My gender? My charming personality?"
The second. Maybe the first. Definitely not the third. Xigfeldo sensed that in her, removing his paw from her clasp to tuck it under his chest. "I am not in the habit of taking advantage of females pushed to the brink, logical as the choice seems to you at this time."
Take advantage? If anything, he had it completely backwards, the crest-flicking, eerily calm and calculating rooster.
"Is Zala a trial?" Zheradra subdued the fires of anger smoldering within her by approaching this matter from another angle. "A test to find out if my choices are my own, and not driven by mere impulse?"
"That is a truth better left to the discovery of the seeker, for there is often more to learn from the journey than its destination."
Infuriating, heat-resistant wretch! Any other male in the valley would have flown for four days to find and bring her a bite of the tastiest of meats, belonging to the reclusive crystal-horned goats. The stronger, more ambitious sort might even return with the whole goat for the chance to smear their shaft with her abundant wetness, but not Xigfeldo. Right next to her, almost within her grasp, and he did not even deign her sex fit to be looked at.
"It seemed...appropriate that you first experience these sensations with a female to which they are equally foreign. I cannot provide you with an authentic experience, therefore I rely on her to impart that knowledge onto you," Xigfeldo forwarded her one of his cryptic remarks, the fluff tipping his tail sailing in the wind. "It should come as no surprise that my understanding of my neighbors is quite thorough."
Yes, he had the age advantage. True, his species was of a regal breed. But that was exactly why his presence set Zheradra's frills erect, pulsing with subdued anger. This calm arrogance of his just...it made her want to wrestle him into submission! But he'd let her win, the sly, slimy eel, all so that he wouldn't get involved in what happened next.
Still refusing to bend to his scholarly tendencies, Zheradra diffused some of her tension through a low, aggravated growl, her attention diverting to the valley sprawling before them.
"You find me infuriating, no doubt, but my resolve stems from the empathy I bear you. Did you know that Zala's kind uses the back of their tail scythe to stroke their partner's privates? It is a rite those who are to be mates employ with one another, where they pit their deadliest weapon against their partner's most vulnerable region. If their chosen flinches, the motions shift just shy of the sharp tip to further test their commitment. If their fear bests them and they recoil, the courtship ends, for if a Salazuchi cannot trust their mate, there can be no love between them."
And how did the rigors of an entirely different species apply to Zheradra, of all things?!
"What a brazen yet futile display," Zheradra tried to disregard this knowledge as yet another paltry detail, but deep down, her stomach churned with guilt for rubbing off on her only companion, literally and figuratively. This Salazuchi trailed her like a kobold, as if dazzled by her magnificent presence, never wishing to leave her side. The truth was far simpler, of course, rooted in the reality of loneliness, an affliction that Zheradra never quite understood.
She was fine on her own. She needed no other to encumber her progress.
"May I?" Xigfeldo's stronger words made Zheradra flinch to the present, one where the enigmatic black dragon's paws almost touched her a second time when he further closed in the distance separating the two.
"Do as you please," she snorted a puff of white smoke, tucking her limbs closer to her body to make room for him.
Xigfeldo, however, pushed himself up, walking ahead to the edge of the cliff, allowing the gusts of wind to carry his crisp and invigorating smell right into Zheradra's nostrils. Flames above, but did she wish to spread him open and feast on all that his female sex had to offer, all while humping his snout to force him to do the same!
That short moment of distraction was all Xigfeldo needed to rear a few steps back and surprise her with flinch-inducing nips on her nape scales.
"You're so tense. So lost within the vortex created by the whims of your instinct."
That...almost sounded pleasant. Or maybe his licks made it so, the wet, gentle swish of his tongue dragging over scales awakening Zheradra's purr, a low and timid sound filled with unexpressed longing.
"See how easy it is for a dragon to sneak past your defenses?" He said while continuing over to her frills, bathing them in such warm affection that her head swayed with the movements, entranced with what his tongue could achieve. "I can continue all the way to the base of your tail and you wouldn't even be able to stop me."
"And why would I want to stop you?" She tried to keep her words as smooth and even as she could despite the shudders rocking her entire frame, converging upon her already pulsing and clenching vent. "I sought you. I chose this."
"Would you still, was your sex cooler and drier?"
He backed away then, a few soft, barely perceptible twitches tensing his lips into the type of snarl Zheradra knew all too well. Not quite immune to the spell of her pheromones, was he?
Though this discovery provided her with her best argument yet, Zheradra remained silent, brooding over the coldness creeping into her slickened frills. It contrasted with the blaze roaring within her underbelly, requiring but a simple trigger to squirt forth into the world and empty her of all this unbearable burden.
She wasn't as weak-minded as Xigfeldo considered her. Heat hadn't once pushed her to make a bad, regrettable decision. Not once had she raised her tail for the snout wishing to sample her smell, luring it with the irresistible appeal of her soggy lips. Her thoughts remained her own all along, unperturbed by the nagging itch, by the honey dribbling out of her, spurring her into action.
There was, however, a bothersome tension haunting her; a weight, anchored to her body, keeping her belly glued to the grass, stubborn and unmoving.
No such issue encumbered Xigfeldo. His movements as subtle and captivating as before, the black dragon leaned onto his side, taunting her with suggestive sways of his tufted tail tip. This time, another detailed presented itself. A wet speckle, small and glistening, caught by the emerging sun's rays.
What was this display supposed to stir within her? Envy with his masterful control over his craves? Nagging lust that ought carry her to the source of his honeyed scent caressing her nostrils?
"It's not going to come out," Xigfeldo giggled at her unflinching gaze locked between his haunches. "The impulse is there, yes, but I can choose whether to accept or reject it. I have always been closer attuned to my female side, so the fire of lust burns brighter within the folds of my tunnel than throughout the length of my shaft."
Against her will, Zheradra's tongue instinctively swished over her lips, betraying her great curiosity at sampling the taste of such a curious specimen. Xigfeldo did what was expected, bringing a wing over his graceful form to blanket that source of perceived evil.
Games, games, and more games. Her frustrations flared to the limit, Zheradra leapt onto her feet and took wing, lest she pounced on that terribly attractive dragon and drew his cock out with her very tongue, if only to feel it rub and enter her sizzling vent. Her choice limited to but one outcome, the dragoness veered for the drier canyon spanning westward of her valley in the hopes of finding herself a Salazuchi to harass.
***End of Chapter 1***
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