Draconic Discipline 2: Warmth in the Dark
After his humiliating disciplining session at the tip of his leader's cock, Makaidos once again resumes his battles, eager to prove he is more than a Craven. Yet every war has a cost. Those who rise...and those who fall.
Description: After his humiliating disciplining session at the tip of his leader's cock, Makaidos once again resumes his battles, eager to prove he is more than a Craven. Yet every war has a cost. Those who rise...and those who fall.
Story written by me , Siranor
Commissioned by Makaidos on telegram
Art by CoLor https://www.furaffinity.net/user/coior/
***
Draconic Discipline 2: Warmth in the Dark
***
A familiar roar broke through the lingering silence, a sound imbued with the essence of a flock united. Makaidos's head turned instinctively toward the sound, his eyes narrowing as the silhouettes of dragons emerged under the moon's pale light. There was an aching familiarity to that roar, a call that reached into the depths of his very soul. It was the sound of his former comrades, the ones he...regretfully abandoned.
As they neared, the injuries that marred their scales became apparent in limping steps and tattered membranes. Battle-worn and weary, they carried the scars of the fight, the tangible proof of courage Makaidos lacked. Rising up further, paws placed on the battlements so he could obtain a better view, he found his heart throbbing with a mixture of admiration and envy as he watched them from his secluded perch, his status as Craven keeping him apart, an observer rather than a participant.
The wounded dragons, unlike his cowardly self, were greeted with affectionate nuzzles and concerned nudges from their kin. Their arrival set off a flurry of activity, each dragon embraced and inspected, welcomed back into the fold with tender care.
The envy dwelling within him became poisonous to Makaidos as he watched the tight-knit community he was once part of. The wounded dragons were ministered to with gentle licks, their wounds cleaned and their bodies soothed. The intimacy of the care, the unspoken understanding, and the love in those simple gestures reached across the distance, twisting in his gut like a beast.
The dragons' eyes sparkled with pride, and their roars were met with cheers. Their morale was higher than it could ever be, the support of all who joined them, a balm to their wounded spirits. They were heroes, while he...
He was a stained, defeated Craven.
If only he was there among them, sharing in their triumph, their pain, their unity. He yearned for the loving touch of a kin, the validation of words and tongue alike, the sense of belonging they so freely offered one another.
Yet...not all seemed lost. When a sudden movement caught his eye, breaking his reverie, his heart lightened. One of the dragons had detached from the group and was now making its way toward him. As the figure approached, its identity lightened a blaze of hope in his heart. Nalashar, his most trusted friend, had survived.
The warm rush of joy that surged within Makaidos as Nalashar landed beside him burned as bright as the sun itself. They nuzzled each other in a cacophony of happy growls, a connection that pierced beyond mere friendship.
"How?" Makaidos asked. "I but all abandoned any speck of hope..."
"A ruse. It was all a ruse. Their gryphons were old, ragged birds, the mages, simply farmers dressed as mages. They barely put up a fight."
"But..." Makaidos began. "The limping, the pain-"
"Some of their soldiers were real, Kai. A good half, at least. Those brave souls did not stick us with pitchforks." The dragon's attention wavered. "What is that I smell?"
"It's nothing," Makaidos quickly sought to cover himself. "Truly, no need to."
"I insist." Nalashar's nostrils flared as he leaned in closer to Makaidos, the warmth of their reunion fading under a new and unsettling discovery. His eyes narrowed as he detected the faint but unmistakable scent of seed from a place no dragon would wish defaced. A shadow crossed the red dragon's features, replacing the joy of their meeting with a question that needed no words.
"Makaidos," Nalashar picked his head up, staring right into the Craven's shamed stare. "What has happened? Why do I smell Velgaros's seed on you?"
Makaidos's heart sank, and his eyes dropped to the ground. The truth was a dark secret he'd hoped to keep buried, but now, he realized, had to come out into the light of understanding. He looked up into Nalashar's eyes, finding only concern and a need for understanding.
"It's... a somewhat twisted story, Nalashar," Makaidos stammered, struggling to find the right words. "After Safik branded me a Craven, I was strapped with a chastity cage and sent to the battlements to wait in silence."
Nalashar's eyes widened, his expression filled with confusion and disbelief. "A chastity cage? Those are reserved only for the lowest of the low. But why? And what does Velgaros have to do with this?"
Makaidos's voice cracked as the memory resurfaced, the humiliation and the pain as fresh as if it had happened moments ago. "Velgaros found me on the way battlements," he whispered, tears welling in his eyes. "He was cruel, demanding. He forced himself upon me, inseminating me with his strength before ripping off the very tool of oppression I've been forced to wear."
Nalashar's face turned grim, his wings stiffening as he processed the horrible truth. He reached out, his claws trembling, and gently touched the area where the chastity cage had once been.
"Such a stark punishment for doing the right thing...We got lucky this time, Kai...but if the peasants were not a decoy, we would've all been lost."
"You must understand, Nalashar, I tried to fight. In my own way," Makaidos pleaded, his eyes searching his friend for any form of moral support. "I had no choice once he clambered on me. I was powerless. He is our leader, and I...I'm just a Craven."
Nalashar's expression softened as he took in Makaidos's words, the horror of the event sinking in. "I know, my friend," he said, his voice filled with empathy. "I know choice rarely graces the punished."
"There is more...is it not?" his eyes widened as he encountered not only the evidence of Velgaros's cruelty but also the sharp scent of urine that clung to Makaidos. Disgust crossed his features, and he pulled back, the intimacy of the moment shattered by the harsh reality of what had transpired.
"Makaidos," he growled, "we should bathe in the nearby lake. It would be easier to clean you there."
Makaidos's eyes filled with concern at the notion. "I cannot, Nalashar," he sighed. "As a Craven, I am not allowed to fly from the flock. If I do, I'll be branded a traitor and something far worse will happen to me."
Nalashar's face twisted with frustration as he nuzzled his friend in support. "This is wrong, Makaidos. A commander should uplift their flock, not punish them like this."
With a heavy heart, Makaidos lowered himself to the ground, his movements slow and pained. He began the difficult task of cleaning himself, his tongue seeking out the tainted areas, the taste of urine leaving a salty bitterness in his mouth that made him long for the sweeter, thicker taste of dragonseed. The act was demeaning, a further reminder of his diminished status, and while he lapped away at the core of his shame, he could not help but feel Nalashar's eyes on him, judging what he became.
Nalashar's voice broke through Makaidos's thoughts. "Makaidos, I...acted harshly, on instincts betrayed by the immediate scent. The situation you're now in, it's...unfair."
Makaidos looked up, tears forming in his eyes. "The world is rarely just, Nalashar. But I can't help but feel like I've failed you, failed us all."
"Failure is just another attempt at walking a better path," Nalashar insisted, moving closer. He began to lick Makaidos's snout and neck, his touch gentle and encouraging. "You are still the brave and noble dragon I have always known. Velgaros's actions may have stained your scales, but never your spirit."
Makaidos closed his eyes, leaning into Nalashar's touch, the warmth of his friend's affection a much needed balm to his wounded soul. "I'm most grateful for the support," he whispered. "Thank you for being here, for standing by me when all others cast me away"
Once he finished his duties as best as his tongue allowed, Makaidos allowed himself to be led to a better, more comfortable place, far removed from the taint of the battlements. Amidst the remnants of a terrace that once echoed with human activity, the fractured stones beneath them told silent tales of grandeur lost and power unchecked. Above them, a pale moon hung just out of reach, casting ghostly illuminations across the ruins of a once-stalwart castle, now nothing but a skeletal remnant.
The night wind rustled through the decay, a soft mournful song that carried the bitter aftertaste of ash. Every whispering gust wailed a ghostly lament, a poignant reminder of the price of their war.
As moonlight played upon their scales, basking them in dim glow, memories of those fallen under Velgaros's command poured forth. Their wings, once spread with joy, now sagged down like their spirits, their muzzles weighed down, not with age, but with sorrow.
From the depth of silence, Nalashar's young voice rolled forth, flowing like rich honey. He spoke of Draakios, a fierce, relentless fighter, who met his end on the spears of human defenders. "He did not waver, not once," Nalashar growled a dim, sad whisper. "Even when they caught him in their trap, tearing off his wings, shattering his scales with frost lances, he roared defiance until he could roar no more."
Makaidos's cerulean eyes mirrored the night sky, dark with pain, glistening with memories of that loss and some. He clung to every word, feeling the weight of Draakios's final moments as if they were his own.
As the tale slowly slid into silence, Makaidos was compelled to reciprocate with one of his own. The memory of Kharelya, fierce and indomitable, consumed him. He recalled the horror as a catapult's shot found its mark, felling her from the sky. Her cries, once filled with fury, were silenced by pain, mutilated into something far worse once gravity extracted its revenge. "I wish we could have done more...not just for her...but for all those who we've lost."
Nalashar wrapped his wing around him, the comforting rock amidst the storm that relentlessly buffeted his scaled hide, "Her spirit truly ignited passion into all of our hearts. We'll remember her not for how she fell, but for how she soared in the skies during happier times."
Truly, times had been better before. And though exhaustion exacted its toll, a smoldering ember of rage still ignited in Makaidos. His tail twitched, betraying his inner turbulence. "Nalashar...Have we become the very conquerors we fight against? The humans stole much of our ancestral lands, yes, but...hunting them back, pushing them ever further away from lands they now call their own, that's..."
A heavy sigh escaped Nalashar, his gaze searching the shattered remnants around them. "I too have felt the shadows of doubt creep in whenever I attend our leader's council. Velgaros became unruly after..."
Their gazes locked, a confluence of pain, uncertainty, and perhaps hope. "Gharlsdarum," Makaidos breathed out, the name carrying with it a weight that both have thought about, yet neither could ignore.
"Gharlsdarum," Nalashar agreed in kind, the very name causing his scales to rustle and his flesh to visibly tremble.
In spite of all the pain he suffered this night, something drew Makaidos into the depths of those memories. He recalled Gharlsdarum, its cobbled streets teeming with artisans, the air pregnant with the scent of freshly baked bread, and fields vibrant with nature's bounty. A memory, now blackened by Velgaros's insatiable fury. The town's mayor, with tears in his eyes and courage in his heart, had stood in the town square, offering an olive branch to the dragons, a chance for peace in exchange for all the lives they had yet to claim.
But Velgaros's gaze had been dark as his scales that day, colder than the deepest winters, his heart set only on retribution. "Burn it," so he had ordered, setting blaze to his own flock's hope for a happier resolution.
The sun had barely touched the horizon when the dragons, dark silhouettes against the amber hue, descended upon the ill-prepared town. Their roars eclipsed the anguished screams below as flames danced wickedly, turning structures to ashes.
Yet, amidst the devastation, a hidden peril awaited. As Makaidos remembered the explosions, his heart raced. The townsfolk, in their desperation, had rigged barrels of gunpowder, turning their homes into volatile traps. Fire and smoke painted the sky once fires lit them up, the force from the detonations sending dragons, including some of Makaidos's closest allies, spiraling downwards, their once gleaming scales tarnished and scarred.
In the midst of this inferno, the haunting cry of gryphons broke through. From the neighboring city they came, wings slicing through the smoke, talons ready to tear into the wings of any dragon they latched on. The dragons, already reeling from the explosions, were ill-prepared for this new assault. Those mighty creatures dove, targeting the dazed and the injured with talons that discriminated little, rending through scale and flesh alike.
Recounting this, Makaidos's voice quivered, each word dripping with regret. Beside him, Nalashar too seemed to sag beneath the weight of that accursed day.
The vastness of the night deepened, drawing the two dragons into the heart of their musings. The ghostly remnants of Gharlsdarum weighed heavily upon their conversation, yet something more came from that regretful day.
Makaidos's mind wandered to the scarred faces he had seen amidst the assault, when he sought cover under the thick veil of smoke. A mother clutching her child, an old man staring at the flaming remnants of his life's work. If they had lived, would they ever see dragons without flinching? Would the mere memory of those scaled beasts forever darken their dreams?
"Have we, in our wrath, kindled a flame in their souls? A flame of vengeance, born of our own fires?" His voice fell to but a whisper, lost in the winds of the night.
Nalashar's gaze turned to the horizon, aimed at the several settlements they would soon have to fight against. The silver glow of the moon reflected in his fiery eyes, giving them an ethereal shine.
"We have sown a tempest, my friend, and now, we must battle its currents," he growled in pain. "In our quest for reclamation, we've forged enemies where there might have been allies, and tested the fragility of our own. Our actions, our choices... they've pushed the humans further into the embrace of the same retribution we seek to unleash upon them. This conflict might not be over. Not in our lifetime."
Makaidos felt a twinge of regret, a tightening in his chest. The gravity of Nalashar's words settled into his heart, pulling at the very core of his being. He looked at his friend, resolve firming his gaze.
"If the wait proves costly, then let us be the change, Nalashar. Let's show our kin, show the humans, show everyone that there exists a world beyond this dance of destruction. A world where dragon and man might coexist, not as enemies, but as keepers of their own lands. All we have to do is fly away, yet we keep contesting territories few dragons would wish to nest on."
"I'm afraid that might be too late," the red dragon answered. He offered a loving nuzzle before he curled around, readying for sleep. "Rest near me, friend, for tomorrow, our wings shall soar again upon the currents of conflict."
*
Golden rays pierced through the morning mist wafting through the valley, bathing the crumbled castle in a soft, luminescent glow. All around, dragons readied themselves, their mighty wings casting shadows on the scarred earth below. The atmosphere buzzed with an electricity made from many forms of emotions, from eagerness to anxiety and finally, resolution.
The dense forest, which sprawled towards the horizon, would be their battleground. It wasn't like the open fields of Gharlsdarum. Here, the tall timbers and underbrush would hinder their expansive wingspans, limit their fire-breathing prowess. But challenges often bred innovation, and these dragons were nothing if not adaptable.
Makaidos watched from a distance as they weaved between tree trunks, their large forms surprisingly graceful. They practiced silent communication - a flick of the tail, a subtle tilt of the head, ensuring that even in the heart of the forest, no dragon would be alone. Velgaros's strategy seemed clear" to strike with precision when the time came, using the trees as allies, not obstacles.
But the humans were not sitting idle. Even from this distance, Makaidos could see the gleam of the watchtowers, hear the distant hum of activity. They'd erected walls, higher and sturdier than ever, and atop them stood archers with steely determination in their eyes. On the ground, warriors shared their knowledge, instructing villagers on the weaknesses of dragons, on the pressure points behind their thick scales.
After surveying the human fortifications, Makaidos and his kin found refuge in a secluded clearing, the tall trees sheltering them from the ever-watchful eyes of gryphon scouts. The ground bore the scars of previous meetings, claw marks etched into the earth like ancient runes. Silence hung in the air as the dragons gathered, each tense, anxious for the battle ahead.
Makaidos's heart pounded as he took his place, feeling the phantom weight of the chastity cage that marked him a Craven still press down upon his sensitive vent. The familiar faces around him seemed distant, their eyes avoiding his. He could feel the sting of their unspoken judgment sink beneath his scales like arrows every time a furtive gaze turned in his direction.
Velgaros, their leader, began to speak, his voice low and measured to avoid detection. His words were clear and decisive, but Makaidos's attention was drawn to his eyes, those piercing crimson orbs that seemed to see right through him. There was a darkness there, a challenge...and a reminder of past sins.
Once the words gave way to silence, the charged tension became almost suffocating as Velgaros's gaze settled on Makaidos. "Tell me, Makaidos," he whispered, his voice dripping with disdain, "Will you cower and moan at the tip of a human's hard spear like you did throughout last night's education lesson?"
"I will do my duty," the dragon replied, his voice barely above a whisper, "as all here must."
Velgaros released a cold hiss. "We shall see, Craven. We shall see."
Throughout the day, the air grew heavy and moist with anticipation. Each side fortified themselves, dragons honing their plated metal armor to a shimmering, impenetrable finish, while humans oiled their spears with poisons and ran through drills. The imminent clash loomed over both factions, threatening to unleash its storm of swords and fangs.
Things turned even more tense as Velgaros's sneer cut through the tension, his crimson eyes becoming thin slits focused on Makaidos. As the powerful black dragon stretched his wings, the world seemed to dim beneath their span. They were vast, like twilight descending early, and when he elevated himself to his full grandeur, the sunlight danced upon his armored scales, creating a shimmering glint of dread.
From the periphery, Nalashar, having observed the standoff, summoned the strength to step forward. Each stride brought him closer to his friend's side, his silent solidarity a shield against a leader who would abuse his own flock, if given the chance.
Upon being challenged, the black dragon's attention flickered to Nalashar, the transition marked by a deep growl that could very well betray their position. Their surroundings vibrated with the threat in that sound. Gleaming teeth peeked through snarling lips, and his eyes, molten with rage, promised a storm.
Nalashar, for all his bravery, seemed dwarfed under Velgaros's domineering stance. Doubt flickered across his features, and his muscles tensed, every fiber of his being poised for evasion. He cast a sidelong glance at Makaidos, a silent question hanging between them: had they made the right choice by joining this fight?
Feeling the oppressive weight of Velgaros's ire once more upon his back, Makaidos dipped his head at his commander. Beneath layers of apprehension, he tapped into a reservoir of resolve. He returned Nalashar's glance, then hoped for the best.
Velgaros perceived their silent pact, and with a scornful exhale, his fierce demeanor momentarily dulled. He sized them up one last time, wings tucking neatly to his frame. "Stay united, if you wish," his voice felt cold, dripping with the promise of possible retribution. "But after the dust settles, Makaidos, you'll face me. Fail to prove yourself, and you'll regret it."
And with a swish of his tail, Velgaros departed.
As the sun rose high in the sky, the plan unfurled. Two groups of dragons split into separate formations. One was to glide high above as a distraction, and the other to slink through the forest, exploiting any gaps in the human defenses. Makaidos found himself in the latter group, his heart pounding in his chest as they moved stealthily through the dense underbrush.
The forest felt alive with sounds, but the dragons moved with surprising grace, their bodies contorting and twisting to avoid breaking branches or rustling leaves. Makaidos felt the weight of his Craven status cling to him with every step. He would prove himself, not just to Velgaros, but to the whole flock as well.
Their progress felt slow, as the dragons constantly pausing to assess their surroundings, to ensure they remained hidden from the prying eyes of gryphon scouts.
Yet above, distraction the distraction seemed to be working. The other group's mighty roars and the thunderous beat of their wings drew the humans' attention skyward. Makaidos could hear the distant cries of alarm, the clatter of weapons being drawn, the frantic orders shouted by commanders. The humans were reacting, but their focus was diverted, their defenses spread thin.
As they quickly pushed through towards the forest's edge and reached the outer walls, Makaidos could see the gleam of watchtowers, the wary eyes of sentries scanning the horizon. The gaps in their defenses ripe for exploitation.
Makaidos's heart raced as they prepared to breach the walls. They were ready. The moment had come.
Makaidos charged headfirst into the chaos, his blue-scaled body weaving and twisting to avoid the deadly swipes of his own brethren as they dove for the kill. With every beat of his powerful wings, he descended lower, skimming above the treetops before finally diving into the forest. Branches whipped past him, leaving shallow cuts on his already scarred body, but he paid them no mind, driven by the need to prove himself to Velgaros.
Breaking free from the tree line, he soared swiftly over the wall and landed heavily in the city plaza, his claws sinking into the cobblestone, sending cracks spider-webbing outwards. He found himself surrounded by terrified humans, their eyes wide with fear as they took in the sight of the dragon that had just invaded their home.
Makaidos bared his teeth, a deep growl rumbling in his throat as he unleashed the full extent of his draconic fury upon the hapless townspeople. His claws lashed out, slicing through flesh and bone with ease, spraying blood across the stone beneath his feet.
Nearby, several of his kin joined in the gruesome task, their jaws snapping shut around soft human bodies, tearing them apart with sickening crunches. The screams of the dying filled the air, mixing with the roars of the dragons and the cacophony of battle echoing from beyond the plaza.
Despite the horror unfolding around him, Makaidos couldn't help but feel a perverse thrill at the power he wielded. The fear in the eyes of the humans only fed his frenzy, pushing him to tear apart victim after victim in a desperate bid to sate his hunger for reaffirmation. A bullied dragon truly proved a terrifying sight to behold if he wished to prove a point.
As he lunged for another kill, he caught sight of Nalashar, who had also descended upon the plaza. His friend's eyes met his own for a brief moment, and Makaidos saw a flicker of concern and sadness in their depths.
Shaking off the momentary distraction, Makaidos continued his rampage, his tail swinging with deadly force to shatter the ribcage of a nearby soldier. The man crumpled to the ground, choking on his own blood as he struggled for breath.
Upon being shot at by a few scared archers, Makaidos's wings beat the air, sending gusts of wind that hurled the bodies of his victims across the plaza, painting the cobblestones with streaks of red. The stench of death and blood filled his nostrils, yet the conflict was far from over.
As the battle raged on around him, Makaidos found himself growing increasingly numb to the violence. He tore through the flesh of another human, the warmth of their blood seeping into his scales, and felt nothing but the cold, empty satisfaction of knowing that he had done what was required of him by his leader.
Yet, he pushed onward, ending more lives, smashing more buildings, doing more and more to prove a point that seemed increasingly moot. Soon, his body grew weary from the strain of the relentless streak of destruction. As the shadows of the smoke stretched across the plaza, the bodies of the fallen piling around him, Makaidos began to wonder if he would emerge from this nightmare as anything more than a monster.
"The skies! Take to the skies!" A dragon roared.
They looked up to see their brethren locked in fierce aerial combat with a flock of gryphons, their vicious talons and beaks tearing at the dragons' vulnerable wing membranes.
With a determined snarl, Nalashar launched himself into the air, with Makaidos following closely behind. As they drew nearer, they could see that the battle was far from one-sided. The gryphons fought with unmatched ferocity, powerful wings carrying them through the air with grace and agility that made them formidable opponents even against larger dragons.
With no chance to exchange thoughts nor tactics, Makaidos dived into the fray, his teeth and claws seeking purchase on the gryphons' feathered bodies. He struck one with his tail, sending it spiraling towards the ground, only to be raked across the face by another's talons.
Nalashar roared, spewing a torrent of flames at the gryphons, who scattered to avoid the deadly fire. The dragons followed suit, their fiery breaths lighting up the sky in a display of searing heat hot enough to set ablaze a gryphon within seconds. However, Makaidos could only watch with envy, knowing that he could not join in the fiery barrage due to his inability to breathe anything at all.
Yet, defenseless, he was not. Once he lunged at one, grappling with it in mid-air as their bodies twisted and turned in the vicious struggle, he used his other tools to finish the job. The gryphon's beak snapped at his face, its talons digging into his scales, drawing blood.
Yet, despite the pain, Makaidos refused to give in, even if his body kept aching from the sustained punishment, he still had the will to keep fighting with all he had. He sank his teeth into the gryphon's neck, ripping through feathers and flesh, throwing its lifeless body towards the ground.
Nalashar, meanwhile, faced own battle, his flames searing the feathers of the gryphons that dared to come too close.
The sky turned into a storm of slashing talons, gnashing teeth, and searing flames, as both sides fought for dominance over the other.
Makaidos felt his strength deplete further with each kill as exhaustion started taking its toll while the gryphons continued their relentless assault. At one point, two gryphons flanked him, their sharp talons raking and rending his already battered body. He roared in pain, his vision blurring as blood oozed from his wounds.
In his weakened state, Makaidos struggled to stay aloft, his wings quivering with the effort. He fought on, had as he could, ripping one gryphon's wings apart with his paws alone, while his teeth and claws finding purchase on another gryphon, tearing it from the sky in a spray of blood and feathers.
Nalashar swooped in, his flames searing the air as he fought to protect his friend. Yet...the two of them were not enough. Their flock wasn't enough. Even with the impressive kills they made, it became apparent that the situation turned truly dire. Too many dragons were plummeting from the sky, their once-mighty bodies crippled by the relentless assault of gryphons that seemed to sprout from every corner of the land. The sheer ferocity of the winged fliers took everyone by surprise, including the usually collected Velgaros.
Makaidos and Nalashar found themselves caught in the midst of the desperate struggle, their hearts pounding as they fought to protect not only themselves but also their brethren. The gryphons seemed to be everywhere, their sharp talons and beaks tearing into the dragons with a viciousness that left even the fiercest of their kin reeling.
Amidst the chaos, Makaidos caught sight of a horrifying scene: Velgaros, the black-scaled leader of their kind, was spiraling towards the ground with four gryphons latched onto him, their bodies entwined in a deadly embrace. These gryphons seemed willing to sacrifice their very lives, all to bring down the fearsome dragon leader once and for all.
Makaidos hesitated, his heart torn between the instinct to help a fellow dragon in need and the bitter memories of Velgaros's cruel treatment. He glanced over at Nalashar, his friend's eyes reflecting the same confusion.
"What is our move?" Makaidos roared as he flapped closer, his voice barely audible above the din of the ongoing battle. "Do we save him, or let him fall?"
Nalashar's eyes narrowed as he weighed their options. "Graah! Our kin, he may be, but he has caused us nothing but pain," he roared back. "Should he live, would our flock be better off?"
Makaidos shook his head, the raw pain of his wounds and the torment inflicted by Velgaros clouding his thoughts. "It is hard for me to know," he admitted. "yet if he dies, our entire flock dissipates."
Nalashar hesitated, his gaze flickering between Velgaros and the ferocious battle raging around them. "Perhaps his death would bring an end to this madness," he suggested on a wavering voice. "But if we let him fall, are we any better than him? Letting our own die because that suits our needs?"
The two dragons exchanged a long, anguished look, as they watched Velgaros and the gryphons locked in their fatal dance, plummeting ever closer to the unforgiving ground below.
Makaidos gritted his teeth, fangs gleaming with the weight of his decision made. "We save him," he declared with fiery fury. "Not for his sake, but for ours! We won't become the monsters he tried to mold us into!"
Nalashar nodded, his expression resolute. "You're right. We are better than him," he agreed with a sharp growl.
Bonded common goals, Makaidos and Nalashar surged forward, their wings cutting through the air as they raced towards Velgaros and his gryphon assailants. As they neared the tangled mass of bodies, Makaidos and Nalashar each targeted one of the gryphons latched onto Velgaros. With a fierce snarl, Makaidos lunged at the gryphon's wing, his teeth sinking into the flesh and feathers, ripping the appendage clean off. The gryphon screeched in agony, its grip on Velgaros loosening as it flailed, bleeding profusely from the grisly wound.
Nalashar, meanwhile, unleashed a torrent of flame upon another gryphon, the intense heat searing its feathers and flesh to charred blackness. The gryphon's agonized screams echoed through the air as it writhed, engulfed in the inferno.
"Fight, Velgaros!" Makaidos roared, his voice full of desperate determination. "Show them that the commander of the dragons will not fall so easily!"
Velgaros snarled harshly at the sound of a Craven's voice and lashed out with renewed ferocity. He twisted his massive head, sinking his teeth into the neck of a third gryphon, tearing it free from his body with a sickening crunch. The creature's lifeless form tumbled through the air, its blood painting the sky in a crimson arc.
Nalashar continued his fiery assault, the gryphon he had targeted now little more than a charred husk, its life extinguished by the relentless heat. He turned his attention to the final gryphon, which was still clinging to Velgaros with the tenacity of a dying beast.
Makaidos swooped in. The razor-sharp claws of his forelegs sliced through muscle and sinew, leaving a trail of viscera in their wake.
"Finish it!" Nalashar yelled, his voice cracking under the strain of the battle. "Don't let it escape!"
With a final, brutal swipe, Velgaros tore the remaining gryphon from his body, his claws ripping through its abdomen. The creature's entrails spilled out in a gruesome cascade of gore, shriek lost in the gurgles that followed.
With the fall of that last bird, the trio of dragons exchanged a brief, tense glance, knowing that they had survived the ordeal together, despite the animosity between them.
The battle around them began to subside, the surviving dragons regrouping, their spirits bolstered by the sight of their commander's victorious stance. Weakened and demoralized, the feathered reinforcements retreated into the distance, their shrieks of pain and anger fading into the distance, leaving the town completely unguarded.
Velgaros directed his flock to burn the town to cinders, commanding the surviving dragons to regroup in one decisive attack. His massive form, though battered and bloodied, remained imposing as he marshaled the remnants of his once-great flock to action. The dragons, their spirits worn thin by the carnage around them, hesitated, their gazes drifting to their fallen and wounded brethren, who lay strewn amidst the burning town below.
Safik, a dragon of sun-touched scales and fierce determination, challenged Velgaros midair, his voice tense with anger. "We cannot leave them behind to pluck a town already brought to its death throes!" he roared, gesturing towards the dragons suffering below. "They fought for us; we must do the same for them!"
Velgaros's response was dark as his scales, his eyes narrowing as he glared at Safik. "The survivors come first," he growled, his voice cold and unyielding. "The wounded will only slow us down, and we must move quickly if we are to regroup and rebuild our strength."
Safik's face twisted with disgust at the notion. "I will not abandon them!" he declared, and with a swift flick of his wings, he gathered a handful of other dragons who shared his sentiments, diving into the smoke and flames below to rescue those they could.
Makaidos and Nalashar exchanged a glance, torn between their loyalty to their commander and their desire to help their kin. Ultimately, however, they were forced to follow Velgaros, their bodies still healthy enough to fly, even if their hearts grew heavy with the weight of their decision.
The remaining dragons, lesser in number by a noticeable amount, followed Velgaros to a safe landing spot away from the burning town. As they touched down, some more gracefully than others, one dragon's descent turned disastrous. The injured creature crashed into the ground, its neck snapping with a sickening crunch, life extinguished in an instant before the shocked eyes of his own kin.
Velgaros forced the others to look away from the grisly scene, commanding them to just...let faded life be. "Do not waste your energy on the dead," he snarled, his gaze sweeping over the survivors as if taking inventory of his remaining assets. "Our losses will only increase if we carry their weight behind us."
He moved among the dragons, inspecting each of them personally, noting their wounds with an appraising eye. The flock that had once numbered over two hundred strong now amounted to a mere few dozen, some in better shape than others.
As Velgaros continued his grim assessment, the dragons exchanged uneasy glances, their spirits weighed down by the harrowing events of the day. The once-fierce warriors now bore the scars of battle, both physical and emotional, tainted by the struggle they survived through.
The dragons huddled together for warmth and comfort, their breaths mingling in the cold night air. They whispered to one another, their voices barely audible over the distant crackle of the burning town, sharing their fears and doubts about the other fights to come.
Nalashar moved to Makaidos's side, wings low, head even lower. "How are you faring, my friend?"
Makaidos sighed heavily, his body aching from the strain of battle. "I am alive," he growled softly, "but I cannot help but wonder at what cost."
Nalashar nodded solemnly, his gaze distant as he stared towards the smoldering ruins of the town. "We have lost much today," he agreed, "and I fear that our losses may continue to mount if Velgaros remains our leader."
Makaidos nodded in agreement, the shadows of doubt creeping into his own heart. "He is single-minded in his pursuit of vengeance against the humans, blind to the suffering he causes our own kind. Even now he...keeps doing that.".
Together, they watched as Velgaros continued his inspection, his movements harsh and unforgiving. The black dragon's once-majestic form now seemed twisted and cruel, a reflection of the darkness that started to overtake any ounce of good that may have resided beneath his blackened scales.
As the surviving dragons tried to cope with their losses, many struggled with the physical and emotional pain they had sustained during the battle. Some dragons, unable to fly or move properly, lay on the ground, their once-mighty wings shredded and torn. Others, had lost eyes or limbs,left to grapple with the reality of their new limitations.
The once-proud flock truly turned into a pitiful group of broken creatures, barely able to support one another as they licked their wounds and tended to the injured. The air was filled with a cacophony of pained cries and whimpers, a far cry from the fierce roars that once defined them.
As night fell, the dragons huddled together, seeking warmth and comfort in each other's presence. Some dragons, their injuries too severe to heal, passed away under the watchful eyes of their kin, their last breaths heavy with the sorrow of their final moments.
A heavy silence hung over the survivors as they mourned the fallen, sharing stories and memories of their lost brothers and sisters in hushed tones. The once boisterous flock was now a sea of bowed heads and flickering tails, the dim glow of their scales barely breaking through the darkness of the night.
The mood shifted dramatically when Safik returned, his sand-colored scales covered in soot and ash. Behind him, a procession of injured dragons dragged themselves forward, some pulled by their tails, others on makeshift sleds fashioned from broken branches and torn fabric.
As the survivors saw Safik and the injured dragons he had saved, their spirits changed, briefly. Grateful for the return of their kin, they nuzzled and embraced the weary wyvern, offering him their thanks and affection. Despite their own pain, they understood that Safik's actions had given them a small glimmer of hope.
Safik, though tired and battered, remained stoic, ensuring that each injured dragon received the care and attention they needed. He refused to rest until he was certain that every dragon had been tended to. Dragons who had once fought viciously for dominance now worked together, tending to one another with utmost attention.
However, not all dragons shared in the camaraderie. Velgaros chose to isolate himself from the flock. He watched the others from a distance, his eyes flickering with suspicion and uncertainty as they embraced Safik, together with his band of cripples and hopeless causes.
As the wounded dragons started being treated and cared for with more than tongue strokes, the flock began to erect makeshift shelters from the surrounding materials, creating a temporary haven for their battered kin.
Dragons who were still able to fly took turns keeping watch, ensuring that no threats would catch them off guard. Though their numbers were diminished, vigilance was of utmost importance if they hoped to survive the challenges that lay ahead.
Nalashar and Makaidos, their bodies still battered from the battle, waited for a moment when Safik was alone. They moved cautiously, not wanting to draw the attention of the paranoid Velgaros.
When they finally approached Safik, he was sitting quietly, his sand-colored scales a stark contrast to the darkness around him. His gaze was distant, his mind seemingly lost in thought. The two males hesitated for a moment, not wanting to interrupt his contemplation.
It was Nalashar who spoke first, his voice soft and tentative. "Safik," he began, "we need your help. We cannot continue to fly under Velgaros's leadership. He has led us to ruin, and we fear for the future of our kin."
Safik turned his head around. His emerald eyes met Nalashar's, his expression unreadable. He listened silently as Makaidos added, "We know that you are loyal to the flock, Safik, yet, we have to decide how our future looks right now. We need to separate ourselves from him before our numbers diminish any further... and we need your support to do so."
The silence that followed their plea felt heavy and painful.
Finally, Safik spoke, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I understand your concerns, and I share them. Velgaros's leadership turned rotten, and I fear what the future holds if we continue to follow him. But we must be cautious, for his wrath is great, and his reach is long."
Safik paused for a moment, eyes clouded with the sadness of loos and the pain of even more conflicts on the horizon. "A solution must be found, but now is not the time," he said quietly. "We are all weary in body and wounded in spirit. Let us focus on healing ourselves and mourning our losses before we act."
With a nod of understanding, the two dragons left the wyvern to his own pains as they sought to ease their own.
After ten minutes of walking, they settled into a secluded glade, where they continued the process of tending to their wounds. With gentle care, they used their tongues to clean and soothe the painful gashes and cracks that marred their once-pristine scales.
After their wounds were tended, the two dragons turned their attention to each other. They pressed their necks together, exchanging slow, tender licks as they sought to offer reassurance and affection, the softness of their touches standing in stark contrast to the violence and chaos they had recently experienced.
Makaidos and Nalashar's gazes locked, their eyes shimmering with a multitude of emotions. The pain of their bodies, the weight on their minds, it all seemed to drift away when they approached one another, warmth of their breaths intermingling. The forest around them too fell silent, as if even the nocturnal creatures paused in anticipation of this tender moment.
A low, rumbling growl emanated from deep within Makaidos's chest, expressing his yearning and desire for something sweeter...a balm for his aching heart. When Nalashar responded in kind, their growls harmonizing in a symphony of affection, he was overjoyed. Their snouts inched even closer, the tips of their noses touching ever so slightly.
As their snouts met, they both let out gentle sighs, the sensation of their scales pressing together sending warm shudders across their tensing muscles. Their eyes closed, and they gave in to the moment, their mouths opening just a fraction.
The clatter of teeth meeting teeth filled the air as they carefully adjusted their positions, finding the perfect angle for their intimate connection. The warmth of their maws enveloped them, their tongues brushing against each other hesitantly at first.
The hesitancy soon gave way to a more confident exploration, their tongues gliding and entwining, tasting each other's essence. As the intensity of their kiss grew, their growls became more urgent, the rumble of their emotions echoing through the quiet forest.
"I never knew..." Makaidos murmured breathlessly, breaking away from their passionate kiss for just a moment. "I never imagined this simple moment would feel so...relieving...."
Nalashar nuzzled his snout against Makaidos's, whispering tenderly, "Nor did I. We've fought so much lately, that we forgot how to love."
Their mouths met once more, their teeth clattering gently as they lost themselves in the sensation of their connection. The warmth of their connecting maws enveloped their very souls, creating a haven where only they existed.
As their tongues danced and twined together, they reveled in the newfound intimacy, their hearts swelling with love and devotion to brighter, pleasant things. The weight of their shared pain and loss seemed to lessen, if only for a moment, as they found solace in each other's sweet embrace.
With bodies pressed close, scales against scales, the ridge of their spines aligned in a comforting symmetry. The bliss of each caressing lick turned to be a discovery of sensations long buried under the scars of battle and betrayal. Makaidos in particular felt a tremor run through him as Nalashar's snout trailed down his sinuous neck, the warm wetness of his tongue exploring every scale on the way down, big or small.
A soft whimper escaped his throat as his dearest's attention moved lower, licking and nuzzling along his chest and belly...heading to one particular spot. Makaidos's heart quickened inside his chest, one careful paw landing on the top of the red dragon's frilled head as his snout moved closer to his vent, a mixture of anticipation and fear surging through him. The ghosts of the cage seemed to loom large, a shadow that threatened to steal this moment from him.
"Not...not there," he stammered, his paw instinctively moving from head to vent in order to guard his most vulnerable spot behind a clawed gate.
Nalashar's eyes met his, understanding and tenderness welling inside their amber depths. "Mrrhhh, feeling adventurous, then? how about...here?" His claw trailed down to Makaidos's tailhole.
The blue dragon couldn't help but gasp, the sensation so unexpected, so overwhelming. His body responded in its own accord, his eager pucker rippling with pleasure at the slightest hint of stimulation upon a place more sensitive than any other.
"Rrrh, seems I found exactly what you need," Nalashar retracted his paw back so he could lubricate his probing finger adequately. "One simple taste, and we are done. Promise."
Makaidos's breath caught as Nalashar's claw found its mark. A sensation unlike anything he'd ever felt before surged through him upon the insertion of that curved, dangerous thing. His body arched, wings fluttering in response, and he couldn't suppress the moan that escaped his lips once the meatier finger attached to the claw followed suit. It was pleasure, pure and unbridled, yet laced with a type of anxiety that made such dangerous taste all the more intense.
Nalashar's gaze remained locked with his, the fiery depths of his eyes reflecting both desire and compassion. He moved with gentle determination, his claw exploring deeper, each movement amplifying the pleasure building within Makaidos.
"The way you tighten, the heat of your depths...I hope my claw won't sting. If that happens, will you...let me know??" he rumbled, focused on providing the most tender pleasure he could.
Makaidos could only nod, words escaping him as he was swept away by the bliss. The world had narrowed down to this moment, to Nalashar's touch, to the bond that was blossoming between them. He felt open, exposed in a way he rarely had before, yet he also felt safe, protected by the only dragon he trusted with such intimacy.
The act was slow, deliberate, focused on shared exploration rather than a mad rush to satisfaction. Nalashar seemed attuned to his every response, adjusting his touch to draw forth moans and whimpers, each one enhancing the magic nature of the moment they shared. Makaidos's body quivered and trembled, and he found himself lost in the rhythm created by the simplest of gestures.
After a few more passes, Nalashar's maw found his again, their tongues entwining, the taste of each other mingling with the sounds of their pleasure. Makaidos felt a yearning, a need that went beyond the physical, reaching deep into the core of his being. He got more than confirmation when a soft growl rumbled in Nalashar's throat, the sound vibrating through Makaidos in turn, resonating with the pleasure coursing through him.
"More..." Makaidos pleaded, pointing towards his empty, hungry tailhole. "Deeper..."
Nalashar obliged. And, as the intensity grew, Makaidos felt a rippling warmth spreading through him, radiating out from where Nalashar's claw insisted. It was as though the throbs of heat were unlocking something within him, something beautiful. Something...foreign. He surrendered to it, allowing himself to be swept away by the rising tide of pleasure.
Nalashar's movements became more insistent, his touch more demanding, yet always guided by a deep respect for Makaidos's pleasures.
"Raahhh...mrrrhhh...there...keep hitting...that spot..." The blue dragon's breath came in ragged gasps, his body arching and writhing under the smooth curve of his friend's claw sliding over the surface of his notoriously sensitive prostate.
The stimulation was unlike anything Makaidos had ever experienced, a fire that blazed too brightly, too intensely. He needed a moment to breathe, to gather himself, to-
"Stop, Nalashar....please, pause," he panted, voice trembling with the enormity of the budding orgasm.
With a gentle yet deliberate motion, Nalashar removed his finger from Makaidos's tailhole, his eyes widening as he observed how quickly the tunnel he braved clenched, yearning, wanting.
"You seem to thirst for something more, my friend," he remarked, licking his snout at the appetizing sight.
Makaidos's cheeks flushed with a heat that had nothing to do with embarrassment. "I want you, Nalashar. I want you... inside me," he admitted, growling with primal need. And with those words, he clambered over the surprised red dragon, positioning himself to fulfill his desire in a reverse way that allowed his rear to face the dragon's head, and the other way around.
"Kai...this is a most appetizing sight, but I thought you wanted my-"
"Mrrrhhh..." Makaidos's answer came in puffs of hot air as he lowered his head to Nalashar's vent. Smelling. Sampling. His tongue found the moisture that had already formed there within seconds. He licked at it, his movements slow and deliberate, savoring the taste inside his clattering jaws, the texture making his tongue wet with delight. Nalashar's body responded, his folds quivering, as if they were all too eager to welcome Makaidos's exploration.
Makaidos's tongue slid between the folds, tracing their contours with smooth, short movements before his curiosity forced him delving deeper. Nalashar's body trembled at the act. A low growl escaped his throat, wings fluttering as the sensations converged towards his hidden places. They were discovering each other anew, their nethers fascinating as the day they met.
"Kai...take-take it slow..." the red dragon pleased, watching with lust in his eyes as Makaidos's tongue assaulted him with outright thrusts, each one more forceful than the last. Makaidos's entire being was focused on that sensitive, scale-less rift, on drawing forth more of the sweetness hiding within, on stirring the satisfaction his friend's hisses clearly portrayed. Nalashar's growls grew more insistent, his body writhing under the delightful slurps attacking his moist male-vent, his mind consumed by the bliss of humping a fellow male's snout.
Makaidos lost himself in the rhythm, in the taste and feel of Nalashar. His entire world had narrowed down to this moment, to the intimacy of penetrating his partner in every way he wanted.
And with each thrust, with each rub, with each slurp of those arousing juices, Nalashar's vent quivered in response, his pleasure building, cresting towards something inevitable. His growls became more urgent, his movements more frantic, his need more tangible. They were in sync, moving together towards a climax that promised nothing but outright bliss for both of them.
"I... I can't keep it inside anymore," Nalashar warned, his voice thick with emotion.
Those words of want throbbed inside Makaidos's nethers, a plea for reprieve and a promise of release tightened in the same vent. His nostrils pressed into the red dragon's seeping vent, inhaling the heady aroma that not only served to heighten his own excitement, but allowed him to secure the red's member between his lips too. His heart thundered in his chest as his partner grew inside his maw, each throb of Nalashar's firmer member resonating with a blossoming excitement within his own vent. T
Nalashar's growth continued, and with every throb, Makaidos's own eagerness increased. He felt alive, awakened in a way he rarely tasted since Velgaros's became the overzealous dragon they knew today. Pre dripped from his own peeking penis, splattering the ground with the same sweet need his swirling tongue had access to.
Once the red dragon's hips surged with the need to bury his almost fully realized erection deeper, Makaidos wrapped his tongue around it, tasting, exploring, savoring. His head moved in an up and down motion, each one eliciting a fresh whimper from Nalashar, and if he really liked it, the red would even yowl, each sound a sweet symphony to his ears. The scraping of claws on his haunches, the musky aroma filling his senses, all of it served to embolden him, to drive him further into the abyss of pleasure he sent his partner into.
"Close..." the red murred, eyes squeezed shut under the throbs of bliss. "All...you took all of me..."
Squirting more from his own growing erection, Makaidos focused his attention on the nubs underneath the member, as they rippled with the same sensitivity that made the spaded tip especially sensitive. Each touch was met with a shudder, a gasp, a moan, and soon...Makaidos found himself unraveling the layers of his dear friend, drawing forth his pleasure in surges, painting his tender penis with all the love he could, suckling upon his very essence.
The red dragon flapped his wings as desperation set in, the sensations building, cresting, threatening to overtake him. Makaidos could feel the saltiness of his upcoming ejaculation against his tongue, a taste that sent him spiraling further into bliss. He knew what was coming, the sweeter wave of seed that would follow the harder throbs.
And he was ready, longing for it, craving it.
Nalashar's resilience began to falter, his body shuddering, his maw snapping between growls and moans of satisfaction. Makaidos lost himself in the sensation, the pleasure, the connection. So much so that when his friend's finger penetrated his tailhole again, he found himself shooting his tail up as if struck, his touch probing deep, poking his prostate.
"Nrrfff..." Makaidos licked the fluids from his snout and kept focusing on his goal even as his own climax was building up, a wave forming within the clenching depths of his own vent, ready to crash over him. Nalashar's touch unnerved him, for he seemed to know exactly where to press, where to probe, where to drive him to the very edge. He could feel his body responding, his excitement growing, his need, turning red.
When his finger found its mark, hitting Makaidos's prostate, the blue dragon thought he might shatter from the pleasure.His constricting tailhole clenched around Nalashar's finger, the sensation something akin to explosions of intense bliss. Explosions they were creating together. Each movement, each thrust, was calculated, a thorough penetration splattered with pleasure and need.
Makaidos's body writhed, his mind lost to the bliss Nalashar was bestowing upon him. It was too much and not enough all at once. While he shuddered with bliss and whimpered with need for more, Makaidos felt the full might of the red dragon's climax. With a yowl and a small gust of flame that almost singed the very butthole he so eagerly teased, Nalashar reached his peak. The sensation was indescribable for him, yet very nuanced for the one who provoked it, for the taste of his partner surrendering everything inside his mouth proved the greatest, thickest, most abundant gift a dragon could ask for.
With no way to spit out the fluids without abandoning his partner to the cold embrace of the night's breeze, Makaidos gulped down the streams eagerly, each swallow full of want, of need. The thick, tart taste felt somewhat unfamiliar, not fully to his blue's lineage enjoyment, yet this was Nalashar's most treasured essence, and that...made every part of him precious, made his very seed something Makaidos wanted to savor, to remember.
He could feel Nalashar's body trembling, the release of his pent-up semen a physical manifestation of everything they'd been through, everything they were to each other. It was not just a climax, but a surrender, a yielding that spoke of trust, and love, and everything precious two dragons could share with each other.
Yet the insistent penetration of his tailhole, the grinding of padded finger against his prostate, especially that tense flexing Nalashar did when he reached his peak felt...too much. After only four gulps of Nalashar's rich seed, Makaidos threw his head up and roared his own bliss, thick, ivory essence dripping down his jaws as he unleashed his own hard lances over Nalashar's chest.
Their wings shuddered, the air filling with the sound of their pleasure, their rawest need made manifest. Their paws grabbed at anything they could, finding purchase on rocks, on soil, on each other. Their claws raked along scales, leaving trails that spoke of passion...all while the throbs of bliss consumed them, binding them together in a way that solidified their kinship.
The aftermath of Makaidos's climax was a beautiful chaos. His own spurts kept coming, painting Nalashar's crimson scales with ivory streaks, each jet of essence stronger than the last.
While he spurted, he struggled to take his friend's member back inside his shuddering mouth, as it continued to jerk and move with the aftershocks of Nalashar's climax. His own body was still trembling, still lost in the pleasure's throes, and the sensation of the hard flesh against his tongue was both tantalizing and overwhelming.
He tried, oh how he tried, to suckle the precious essence from the source, to taste Nalashar as fully as he could. But the movements proved too erratic, too wild, and he found himself failing, earning all of those missed spurts on his face instead, the taste salty and rich on his lolling tongue.
After the stream tapered off, Makaidos attempted to lick his partner's leaking tip, but Nalashar's voice stopped him. "We can clean up later," he declared lovingly as he nuzzled his snout along the tail he so teased.
They turned around to fall face to face, their eyes locked, their breaths mingling.
They shared another loving kiss, meeting with a softness that contrasted with the wild intensity of their previous passion. As their lips clashed together and tongues ventured in the opposite maw,, Nalashar tasted his own seed upon Makaidos's tongue, and seemed to...enjoy it.
"It's strange," Makaidos broke apart the connection, his voice soft and filled with wonder. "Tasting your seed, sharing something so personal, so... primal."
Nalashar's eyes twinkled with amusement, "Is it THAT unpleasant?"
"No," Makaidos said quickly. "Not unpleasant. Just different. New. A taste of you I never had the chance to sample."
"And you?" Nalashar asked bumping his snout against the blue snout lapping at his own. "Do you like the taste of us, huddled together, like this?"
Makaidos considered the question, his tongue flicking out to taste his own lips, to savor the lingering flavor of his partner's creamy essence. "I enjoy it greatly,," he said finally, eyes sparkling with conviction. "It's a part of you...and now, a part of us. How could I not love you, my dearest of reds?"
Slowly, deliberately, they began to lick each other's snouts, a mutual grooming that was as much about affection as it was about the purging of each other's lusts. Their tongues moved with care, with purpose.
As they cleaned each other, they both savored the taste of their shared pleasure in silence, content with everything that transpired. No words were spoken, for none were needed when feelings spoke volumes already.
***The End***
Ever wished you could do something naughty with my dragon Siranor? If so, please check these ychs I have available:
(m/m anal fluffy love) https://www.furaffinity.net/view/53310379/
(M/M scaly 69 messy) https://www.furaffinity.net/view/53337140/
M/M dom sub dubcon bondage mating dragon in heat https://www.furaffinity.net/view/53396889/
If you enjoy taking a peek into the worlds I create through the arts I commission, please throw this a fav and let me know what you think in the comments! On the other paw, if you wish to show your appreciation for my writing and encourage the commissioning of more tasty arts, you can Support me with tasty treats here https://ko-fi.com/siranor0720