A Present for the Dragon
This story was a gift, as was the highly modified anthro mouse, to a cyber dragon of my acquaintance. I tend to prefer the character of clockwork and leather, while he has a fondness for nano-tech and stainless steel. I hope this does the interplay justice.
Posted here for the enjoyment (I hope) of a wider world.
"So sweet. Always my favorite arm binders, wrist to opposing elbow behind you puts your tits out there so nicely."
The rodent held her chin high, never dropping against her clockwork and vaccuum tube posture collar, shuddering only slightly as the dragon's cold cybernetic claws closed on the nipple of the breast cupped in the more metallic of his forepaws. At some mental command from the dragon, the claws became suddenly hot, the trans-molecular coating approaching plasma as the searing sizzle fought with her own healing. The ages of practice helped the dragon quickly find the perfect balance between burning and regeneration that kept the rat at the height of sharpest pain. Her breathing grew sharply deeper, but still regulated as the tears flowed down her cheeks. Even as the breath began to rasp in her drying throat, the only other sound from her was a building crackle and static from the voice augmentation speakers set into her collar.
"Lynn said you were impeccably trained ... a shame really. Enigma's mental language pickups must be fighting with the regeneration nanites, I'm hearing more feedback than usual in those speakers. Lynn will probably need to re-tune them for the additional input. ... I had hoped to pick up a little more scream." He released his hold on her breast and turned to leave the workroom, thinking about a unicorn that might be healed enough for another skinning.
..{Fucker}..
He stopped short, hearing what he thought was a clear word in the receeding feedback static. Turning back to the female still bound kneeling for his return, he tipped his head slightly in thought. She wasn't looking at him. She always looked at him. Now her eyes were averted, staring at the opposite wall. As he walked over slightly into her field of view she blinked but held his gaze now. "Did you say something, slut?"
From a dry rebuilt throat, creaking with hours of disuse, she spoke, "Fuck me."
..*+FuCk yOU+*..
There it was again, he thought, recognizable words in the static, grown quiet without the stress but still there. He bent to gently slide his tongue over the fading scar on her nipple before he split it open with his teeth, greeting the cry of suprise with a rough grip on her other breast and driving his claws into her femhole, using these handles to lift her from the ground. He held her over his head thusly, her arms and feet still bound behind her, before throwing her on the table-top, releasing his hold on her tit to slap it hard enough to lift that shoulder off the table before dragging her toward the edge of the table with the claws buried in her. Finally, her released that grip intime for her knees to slip off the edge of the counter, her legs spread as her feet were still pulled back under her. Simultaneously he rammed her cunt down on the cock now throbbing from his sheath and wrapped his paw around her collar, bending her severly backward over the edge of the table. "Is that better, slut?" he growled.
"Yes, Master, thank you for--" The dragon snapped his other paw over her jaw, clamping her mouth shut on her speech.
...*/roUGHer fucks froM HouseCATs}*...
The dragon grunted, the cracking of the rat's vertibra drowned out by her whines of pain and the hard slap of the dragon's thrusts brusing her strained thighs. Still, the dragon paused still felt the strains of her thighs as she flexed herself to milk his cock. At least he felt them until the current hit her clit.
He could arc weld with the current between his index and thumb claw, but he didn't want to destroy her sex, at least not yet, just disrupt it. Twitching and writhing, she soon lost all control of the muscles of her lower body, the only messages from her lower body shooting up through her agonizingly wretched spine was the fractured pulling and tugging of her own muscles against each other, impaled on the dragon shaft that only throbbed thicker and more rigid with the sensation of her involuntary spasums around his male-ness. Unable to orgasm under the onslaught, she cried streams of warm salt ears on the table top, spikes of howling, warbling wails echoing in the room like a radio tramsission lost in the wake of solar flares, even as she ground her teeth on her own tongue hard enough to make it bleed.
The fine sensation was far too gone for her to tell if the dragon emptied seed in her before he threw her back to the ground, sweat-soaked and tear-stained, a pile of whimpering and white noise. He looked down at her several moments before speaking, "You will need adjutment, but perhaps we have been looking at the wrong registers. That program was intended to make your speaking clearer, since your vocal apparatus was so damaged ... but we seem to have another channel entirely. You may be more fun to break than I thought." He turned to leave again, and this time only smiled when her heard a single pop in receeding wall of static.
....{try}...