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Being so small had plenty of benefits, not the least among which was a little help with staying stealthy in the presence of larger creatures.

Tirk wasn't taking that skill for granted, as he skittered about the darkness of a cave that had seen plenty of foot traffic in recent months.

"She'll be back any second, probably with another, fresh load of treasure," he whispered. "And when she arrives, I'll be the one with loaded pockets!"

There were plenty of adventures in Tirk's back pocket: in his years traveling the vast wilds of Motven, he felt he'd earned the right to consider himself a bold and daring hero...but the world around him disagreed, for a vast plethora of reasons.

Chief among those reasons, however, was his species: no one believed that a mere kobold could be capable of the things that he claimed to have done, but the proof was in the pudding. He'd defeated the scourge of the hypnocrux, liberated the slaves from a horrific village, and captured the golden hoards from plenty of lesser dragons...but anytime he tried to bring up such exploits, he was told that he was too short to have such tall tales be true.

He was dearly tired of being underestimated, and where others saw the new dragoness that terrorized the countryside as a plague on their houses, he saw her as the perfect opportunity to prove his mettle to the people, all while lining his pockets with so much treasure that he'd never have to answer to another human, elf, or dwarf for as long as he lived.

The town that already took him as a shifty individual continued to rely on stereotypes for judgment, believing that a kobold was only capable of being a slave to a dragon, acting as a pet and a pawn, at best.

Just having the chance to prove them all wrong and overload his bank account in the process, Tirk was struggling to keep his grin contained when he heard the distant flapping of wings, echoing through the mouth of the cave.

"If this plan works, there won't be a book of legends in the whole world that doesn't have my name in it!" he thought aloud. "And I'll have enough money to buy everyone a copy...just so I can shove it right in their stupid faces and show them to underestimate a kobold!"

Tirk made the mistake of bragging to a few of the locals about what he was going to do, and those who didn't give him the look of a traitor laughed in his face. The expectation was clear: they thought he was simply making the pilgrimage to go worship his new god, but he refused to do anything less than capture the dragoness...and even that might not be enough, as frustrated as he was.

He'd tame her, if at all possible, having heard stories of those great human and elven heroes that were able to do the same. The knights who rode dragons into the sky and took them into battle were among the greatest warriors to ever live; not one of them was a kobold.

He wasn't afraid of trying to change the course of history, but every tiny, red scale on the creature's body was trembling as he felt the ground shake around him: he'd have been lying if he said he wasn't afraid of what might happen if this mission went awry.

Being forced to worship the dragoness would be the least of his concerns, if she was ticked off.

"Come on...come add the day's take to the pile," Tirk kept his voice as low as he could, knowing the heightened senses and intelligence of even the dumbest dragons were far above that of their human and elven counterparts. "You've got nothing to worry about...just drop it in..."

With a large sack of burlap in her gritted fangs, the dragoness landed on two legs, rolled down to four, and walked into the depths of her home with a sense of arrogance and control: she was the most fearsome creature to ever grace the countryside of Motven, and every village in the region was put on alert that she was nearly invulnerable to attack.

No hero was rising to the occasion to try and take her down, and none from the surrounding kingdoms cared enough about the smaller, farming communities to make the trip; they'd wait for the glory of defeating her to match the payment, but if they waited too much longer, there wouldn't be much of a countryside to rescue.

That was where Tirk, equipped with a long, thick cord of rope and a seemingly brilliant plan, came in.

"You do know that I can smell when someone else has intruded on my lair, don't you? If you really think I'm not aware of your presence, I do feel sorry for you...but I feel no remorse for what I'm about to do to you."

The sense of smell was so often overlooked that Tirk was left unaware of just how sensitive a dragon's olfactory senses could be: he hadn't budged an inch from his hiding spot, and he held his breath to keep from giving her a sound to follow, and yet, she knew that someone was foolish enough to visit her cave while she was gone...and his scent was too strong to be a lingering from someone who had come and went.

"I'll give you a chance to show yourself and confess to any thievery of my hoard; I make no promise for your safety if you've been foolish enough to clutch even a single coin."

In the darkness of the cave, Tirk was on a level playing ground with the dragoness: he could see as well as any other kobold in the dark, but there were two facts that he took to his advantage, in the cave.

The first was the element of surprise, giving him a few chances to distract the dragoness before she was able to make a proper attack on him.

The second was an advantage that she was born with: being a green dragoness, her acid breath would easily lay waste to the entire collection of treasure that she'd gathered, and he was betting the little bit of a fortune he'd collected on his own that she wouldn't be so rash as to let out a torrent of acid at the pile of gold.

If she'd jumped to the same conclusion, she already would have assumed where he was...and Tirk took that as a sign that his current position behind a small boulder hadn't been revealed.

Like a proper adventurer, he was gambling his whole future on the plan that was coming to fruition, and the thundering steps of the dragoness told him that it was time to give everything a whirl.

" There you are..."

His tail was poking out behind the rock, but it was close enough to the pile of treasure that he'd picked it perfectly: he needed to get her attention before he could snare her properly.

A long strand of rope came from the other side of the rock; it was a distraction, but the dragoness didn't know that, and Tirk was already watching the first length of rope slide around her front legs.

The slack was hidden under the pile of gold, and dragging back through the mess caused a rattling sound to spread around the dragoness. A shape in the dark on the other side of her view made it look as though another pair of kobolds were in the cave, and the final gamble paid off when Tirk watched the dragoness move the other way, assuming that she could kill two birds with one stone.

What happened instead was just enough movement to tighten a cord of thick, nigh-unbreakable rope around her front ankles. She tripped and landed muzzle first, but her hind legs were already scrambling...claws raked through the stone floor of the cave as easily as fingertips brushed through a bowl of dried rice, but if Tirk didn't venture anything dangerous, he knew he would fall short just before he reached his ultimate triumph.

He went for her tail , first, taking the slack in his rope and wrapping it several times around the thrashing base, but he didn't go for those hind legs, even then.

"Get the fuck off of me, you little whelp!" she growled aloud, but she didn't dare cast her own acid breath upon herself, and she hadn't discovered the other two assailants.

When she reached that boulder and found the other two tails were actually just smaller rocks that Tirk had placed beforehand, she was furious , but her fangs stayed gritted when she felt a cord of rope slink around the whole of her jaw.

Trying to gnash her fangs before the rope was forced taut, the dragoness found that any movement of either jaw forced the rope around her tail to yank, and just before she became a wild, feral beast in her frustration, she settled her teeth, held her hind legs still, and took in a slow breath.

"You...you're a crafty little one, aren't you?" she asked, feeling his weight against her shoulders and a foot on the back of her neck. "I'd be more than happy to reward your intelligence with the promise of your life and your freedom, if you take these ropes off of me."

"My intelligence has been insulted more times than I can count," Tirk admitted, "But if you really think I'm gonna let you go...that might be the meanest insult I've ever endured."

The dragoness was shocked that the kobold could speak so clearly, but knowing that he was an intelligent creature, and knowing further what he was...she couldn't contain her grin.

"The outside world isn't kind to kobolds like you, is it?" she asked, barely able to part her lips enough to speak, and yet, her voice changed from the scathing tone of acidic vitriol to one as sweet and smooth as the purest honey in an instant. "But I know exactly how you feel...rejected by the world of the humanoids, forced to scrape and scrounge for what little bits of food and freedom you can...it's entirely unfair to you, isn't it?"

"You're not talking your way out of this."

She blinked. "What? Why...I have no idea what you mean, my dear. I'm simply commiserating with a soul that has endured some of the same trials and tribulations that I have! I'm not trying to talk my way out of anything."

"You were just offering to let me leave with my life and my freedom," Tirk reminded her. "You wouldn't be making claims like that if you weren't seething about the fact that you'd be trapped by a kobold."

"Trapped? I could break out of this pitiful trap and melt your very bones if I were so inclined," she claimed. "And if you don't let me go within the minute, you'll find how sincere a threat that really is..."

"If you could break free, you would have done so already," Tirk answered. "You've no reason to be settled beneath me, unless you're actually stuck there."

Clever little shit, she thought.

"You've got your theories, but I've got my facts...and the fact is that I'm willing to offer you your life, your freedom, and I'll even let you keep whatever bits of my treasure that you've pilfered...all you have to do is untie me."

Tirk shook his head, having stolen the grin from her face. "I don't think I'll be doing that anytime soon, but I've gotta ask...who is it that you worship?"

"As if I could trust a kobold to understand the finer points of worshipping an elder dragon god..."

"Were you going to offer me the chance to worship you?"

"It's worked on every other kobold I've ever met."

"Well...I'm not every other kobold," Tirk assured her, "And I'm getting really damned tired of being disrespected by every single person, creature and other living being that I come across. Kinda figured that capturing a dragon might finally be enough to get some people to show me a little respect."

At that, the dragoness thought she might have a final way out of her predicament. "You sincerely underestimate the evil in the hearts of humanoid creatures," she mentioned. "In fact, you'll likely make things worse by marching me into town...and it's bold of you to assume that you even could present me to anyone; you've got me tied up, but how do you intend to keep me docile outside the cave?"

In truth, Tirk hadn't gotten that far in his planning, and at the start of his quest, he was assuming he'd lose at least an arm or a leg, if not his entire body in the process of capturing the dragoness.

The only part of the plan he hadn't considered was what he would do if he actually succeeded.

"I'll wear you out instead, then."

"Excuse me?"

"You've obviously worn yourself out a little bit, pillaging and robbing treasures all day," Tirk suggested. "And then you came back and thrashed about in these ropes...it's safe to say that you're due for a little rest."

"You're so kind."

"But you were just talking about how easily you could escape, and by my mental notes, it's been about a minute."

"So you're smart, and a wiseass..."

Tirk was beaming. "I've been called worse," he confessed, "But I suspect you do have some energy left about you...and frankly, I've known your kind to work kobolds to death, forcing them to literally clean, cook, worship and steal to their own detriment."

The dragoness rolled her eyes. "You gonna get to the point, little guy?"

Holding the rope around the base of her tail and giving it a tug, Tirk slipped down from her shoulders and stepped around the side of her, moving with more confidence than such a small creature had ever shown around her before.

"The point is...being worshipped by the people of Motven would be great, but I've already done such wondrous things...and they've never cared or given me any credit. What could be better, then, than turning this into my hoard...and being worshipped by you?"

She would have scoffed at the idea, if not for the fact that he held her head and neck in such a unique and crafty knot: any sudden movements of her body would result in something far worse than some lingering whiplash in her neck.

"That's...really cute, little guy."

"It's Tirk."

"Right...you kobolds always have such simple names," she mocked him, feigning her lack of interest and ignoring the fact that he was stroking her side and rubbing the outside of her thigh with an open palm. "My own is Kalarissa Du-Thril, but...I suppose that Kala or Rissa will be easier for someone like you to handle."

"Rissa has a nice ring to it...nice and simple, but kinda pretty...kinda like you are," Tirk said. "I suppose that's the kind of name I'd be okay with saying out loud a few times in a row."

The stroke of his dull, short claws sent a pleasant thrill through the backside of the trapped dragoness, but when that shiver reached her chest, she realized what was changing about his words...and she gulped.

"You are not actually thinking of doing what I think you're thinking of doing back there," she growled, trying to look back over her shoulder. "I didn't agree to worship you, you know...and if any man is going to start playing around back there, he'd damn well better be worthy of worship from someone even greater than I am!"

"Who greater to deserve your worship and praise than the kobold that tricked you, trapped you, and now holds your horde?" he asked, grinning and leaning against her full, thick rump. "The very same horde that was stolen from the people who disrespected me, mind you...it was really quite generous of you to gather all of this for me."

"I did not -

"But you did," Tirk cut her off. "Maybe you didn't realize that you gathered all of these treasures for my benefit, but it was one of the sweetest offerings I've ever seen. I'd be more than happy to reward your efforts now, if you're ready to receive your payment..."

In her life, Rissa was used to taking, and only taking: when she wanted something, she stole it, claimed it, or if she couldn't have it, she destroyed it.

Despite having captured her and tamed her, Tirk was still asking her permission for what had become an obvious and sexual affair; she didn't fathom that any man could be so respectful when he had such control over a situation, and yet, his fingertips only brushed along the obvious mound of her womanhood, refusing to touch it directly.

Considering her very life was forfeit by his clever trap, this was one of the better outcomes that she could have hoped for.

So I fuck his little brains out, wait for him to fall asleep, and then I eat the little bastard for daring to put me in such a situation, she thought. Nice to have a man that understands the importance of providing a lady a meal before you bed her...

In her mind, she was still dealing with a small, weak simpleton: no kobold could be properly worthy of her, but after laying waste to so many villages and raining down on the farms with her acid breath, she wasn't attracting too many suitors to herself.

To have a willing kobold standing behind her and breathing over her folds, making his lust entirely obvious...it was actually _quite_the turn-on for Rissa, and living her entire life free and unbound, there was a hint of kink that she'd never known before to be tied to the ground and trapped in place.

"You have won this day, haven't you?" she asked, keeping her gaze over her shoulder and her eyes sharpened on the smaller creature. "You win my cave, my hoard, my adoration, and now, my body...has there ever been such a heroic kobold before?"

"Nice to know that you're capable of such flattery, but it's not getting you free anytime soon," Tirk replied. "But since you said I've won your body..."

Two pawtips eased into the gap of her petals and slipped past the only smoother flesh in a sea of scales: the vulnerable, deliciously warm folds of her sex were exposed to the kobold and spreading a little wider at his urgings, and much to Rissa's unexpected delight...he wasn't just ramming his body into her own without a warmup or consideration.

He was savoring the experience, spreading her womanhood with a slow, delicate drive of his digits and a press of his muzzle against the nub of her clitoris. She'd never been able to properly touch it before, given her quadrupedal anatomy...but their difference in size made the spot seem tiny to Rissa.

To Tirk, it was so easy to find that he could curl his whole tongue around the hood and slather her most tender area with as much of his spittle as he wanted; just as it was promised to him by the written legends of the men who claimed to survive such an act, the nethers of a dragoness contained a nectar sweeter than any flower or fruit one could find in any corner of the world.

As she became quickly addicted to the pleasure the kobold could offer, he fell prey to her exotic, delicious juices: mental clarity would decide who was truly the dominant power when their evening came to a close, but for the moment, neither one had forgotten who was holding the end of the rope.

"I must admit, I find it...q-quite a relief that you don't treat me as many other champions do," Rissa's voice was somewhere between the sweet, flowery fluff that she'd offered before and the sincere corrosion that came from her natural tone, but the underlying theme was a pleasure that she had never contested with before. "They win something and put it...on a shelf...a-and forget about it..._bythegods..._but you t-truly care about my bodice, don't you?"

"As long as I've waited for a dragoness to worship and pleasure me, I want to make it clear that you are not to be discarded," Tirk explained. Standing behind Rissa's trapped body, he was shuffling out of the loose, leather slacks and tattered shirt of chain mail that acted as his only protection...but he certainly couldn't claim his prize while wearing such things. "Prove your loyalty, and soon, you'll be allowed to receive my cock without being tied down..."

But what if I like that part? She thought, and immediately, her head shuddered. Perish such thoughts, Kalarissa...this little bastard isn't fit to lick your ass, much less to taste your treasures...even if he's really quite good at that...

Where a kobold like Tirk would have picked up such skills was beyond her understanding or guesses, but right then, Rissa was delighted to be on the receiving end of a practiced tongue and a rapidly thrusting pair of digits.

His cock, as she soon felt, was more than the average kobold was packing...and feeling it throb against the inside of her thigh, she continued to lose herself to the forbidden fantasy of letting a smaller, weaker creature dominate her body.

She knew just by a single prod that it would be large enough to satisfy her, but her pride was still too strong for her to confess such a thing, just yet.

"If that...little jab...was your cock...you don't need to tie me down," the dragoness was bold and boastful, even in the face of her defeat. "I won't squirm in the least from something so pitiful..."

"It'd be easier to believe that you were truly loyal to me if you weren't letting your frustrations out, little by little," Tirk snickered against the gathering juices of her excitement, his lips spreading a little wider and offering the bud of her clit a brief, tantalizing suckle. "Not to worry...give it a little more time, and I think you'll find yourself a willing vector to be the loyal pet of a legendary kobold like me."

Legendary kobold? Has such a phrase ever been uttered before?

Keeping such thoughts to herself was a double-sided ploy: she didn't want to get herself into further trouble by kicking the hornet's nest, but beyond that...she had to admit that she was already on the verge of climaxing from the skillful workings of the kobold's tongue.

He was able to touch her in ways that she never could have managed on herself, and no mortal that had been there before him ever bothered to show her body that sort of care and consideration.

She might even let him live , provided he was willing to give her such treatments more often.

"You'll find that m-most dragons," she paused, finding it foolish to open her muzzle, "Aren't used to...being..._littlebastardyou'remakingmecum..._being pets for a-anyone, regardless of their stature!"

Tirk didn't bother trying to contain his grin. "Sorry, I didn't catch that whole part in the middle there...think you wanna run that by me again?"

It would have been difficult for Rissa to answer with any words, but feeling the tip of his unique, draconic length brush against the tender, parted folds of her womanhood, she didn't dare to part her lips.

She was hesitant to breathe: sucking in a tight gasp and looking away from Tirk for the first time, she gazed straight ahead and tried to think of anything but the orgasmic quiver that was spreading throughout her trapped bodice.

You will not break me like this, Tirk. You will not change my mind...I am a proud, strong dragon...queen of her hoard and servant to none, and you are the one serving me by fucking me! Don't you dare twist this any other way!

Rissa truly believed that about herself, even then, as her deadly, furious claws raked at the floor of the cave and tried to find purchase, but nothing would soothe her, once she knew the pleasure of feeling Tirk's length plunge into the fiery heat of her passage.

A single thrust was enough to force her fangs into a tight grit, and a second forced her body to quiver against the thick cords of her bondage, and a third finally came with enough weight that his orbs slapped against her full, thick thighs from behind, revealing that perhaps his greatest gift was the one between his legs.

That he could reach such a depth with such a small, nimble body would prove useful to her in more ways than enlisting his help to pillage the farms that dotted the countryside, but that was more of a fantasy than she realized...she still hadn't come to accept the reality that Tirk was already living in.

"I was a little...w-worried at first," Tirk admitted, letting out a passing breath. "You're so much bigger than I am that I thought...m-maybe this wouldn't work, but...h-holy fuck , does this ever work!"

Hearing a man cry out for her so eagerly was the kind of praise that Rissa was used to hearing, but she couldn't recall how many years it had been since any man was burying the entirety of his cock into her body, much less one that worked so hard to find himself in that position.

The larger dragons that had their way with her never showed such compassion, but they didn't care about keeping her under dominance, either: they got their rocks off and went on their way, leaving her with a hollow sensation in the aftermath and a desire for companionship, no matter where it would come from.

"You're truly...t-too kind, master," Rissa whispered, but there was no keeping her voice contained in the echoes of the cave. "Would you consider...j-just maybe loosening my ropes a bit?"

"From hating me to calling me master in such a short time...you really think I'm gonna let you free, just yet?"

Rissa blinked. She felt a series of deep, hammering thrusts that shook the disbelief from her face, but even as the kobold pounded into her body and filled her with even greater pleasure, she tried to keep her disposition again him, refusing to believe that something so small and weak could ever hold power over her.

It was the passion that he showed her, and the pleasure that he gave her, however, that ultimately began swaying her words from an attempt to get free of his grasp, to an attempt to bring the beast out of him, eager to know the fullest extent of what he could really do when he let loose.

"You grace me with s-such powerful love," she did all she could to keep her words regal and pure, like the queen that she was...but there were hints of lewd, brash arousal sneaking into the raspy breaths that rolled over the edge of her lips. "And still keep your wits about you? What a magnificent...little bastard you are...ooohnfuck..."

Hearing any woman approve of his love with such sounds would have been a thrill for Tirk, but to know that a dragoness who commanded the respect of the entire countryside was absolutely overwhelmed by his cock was the kind of ego stroke that he'd always thought he wanted to experience at the behest of the villagers.

Earning it by conquering Rissa's body and working those impassioned cries from the depths of her body, instead, proved to be a far greater reward than any of the humanoids could bestow upon him.

"You've already gotten off once," Tirk murmured, revealing that he understood everything that Rissa had declared thus far, even when she mumbled such things under her breath. "You'd probably be well on your way t-to another by now if you'd just own up to how much you love...b-being tied down and fucked hard..."

For someone as small and weak as an average kobold to show such confidence and resilience in the face of an overwhelming power like her own, Rissa couldn't help respecting the little guy.

To admit that she was quickly becoming addicted to his unique blend of a skillful touch and enduring, pumping hips was a more difficult task, but no one dared to come near her cave when she was around...and stroking Tirk's ego wasn't the worst thing she'd ever done.

"If you w-wish to be my master...if you truly wish to hear me confess such a thing..."

Tirk's paws did their best to grip the full, wide backside of the dragoness, smacking open palms upon full, jiggling flesh. "Did I not make that obvious?"

"Stop g-going so easy on me, then...you w-want to conquer a dragon? Fucking conquer me already!"

Truth be told, she was stroking her own ego, at that point: she couldn't imagine Tirk was giving it his all for such a long time without being taken by the throes of orgasm.

Her gamble paid off, however, when Tirk reached up and wrapped his arms around the base of her tail, holding the wide, plentiful base and using it for leverage to pump his hips as fast and as hard as he'd ever moved before.

"A wonderful suggestion, Rissa," he countered, giving up on pacing himself. "If you are my pet, t-then...there's no better way to claim you than this...n-no better way to put you in your place than to fill you with my seed!"

There was no denying the pleasure that had already taken her body by storm, but to feel the kobold giving his all to her haunches and slamming as deep as his shaft would reach, each pump coming faster than the one before...

...It was a miracle that Rissa lasted as long as she did.

"No...n-no...I won't..."

Her voice trailed off as a host of panting breaths left her lungs, complete with the lethal drip of acidic saliva moving between the gaps of her fangs. There was no more forcing anything: only the inevitable loss of herself to a mere kobold, as her inner muscles clenched around his impressive length and held it, eager to feel the wash of his juices within her body.

"Fuck it...c-cum inside me, you little mongrel! Breed me!"

Even Tirk was shocked to hear such a request, but his length was already throbbing against her inner walls; painting them with his cum happened so quick thereafter that his gasp failed to catch up with the pace that his body bestowed...but it didn't stop there.

As the mess of his yield spilled back down his shaft and soaked her inner thighs, Tirk could feel the dragoness relaxing against the floor, her tail still lifted and her womanhood satisfied.

Even when that one moment of lapsed judgment left Tirk slumped over her back, she didn't flick him away with her tail, melt him with her breath, or even sit her rump upon him and declare herself his new queen.

She had to save her energy for the pillaging that would take place the next day, with her new master taking his just desserts from the world that scorned him...