FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The air was warm and the room was dark. The cold-blooded scaly owner sat rather comfortably in his sand laden throne, with the steadily radiating heat of its charcoal briquette heater keeping him comfortable.

His twenty five foot long body snaked lazily through several layers of warm sand. His torso, broad and well-muscled, pressed back restfully against this coils. He amused himself by pouring sand from his hand over his coils. His palm scales were white which ran up to his fingertips, the white disappeared at the edge of his palms. His scales continued on in a strong crimson color, these scales thicker and more rugged. They gave way to his pattern, a black diamond with a white and smaller diamond inside of it. This color scheme repeated going from his coils' white underbelly to his primary crimson and on up to the pattern along his spine. The pattern from his palm and hand terminated at his elbow, from his elbow up it was all crimson scales. The scales of his lower jaw were white like his underbelly, with the upper portion of his head a diamond of his pattern. White covered most of the top of his head, with the black rim running over his eyes in points to his nose. The crimson covered his cheeks and ear holes to meet the remainder of his upper jaw in crimson to his white lower jaw.

As he yawned, cotton white flesh of his upper mouth was revealed along with the two fleshy slips that hid his hollow fangs. He covered his maw with that patterned hand again, showing the patch black nails swirled with the latent color of deep blood. The white from being so light and grey eyes held broadly open, the often fine slits relaxed open for remarkable low light sight. The nostrils usually well hidden in the black coloring gleamed opaque against the faint distant torch light, the heat sensing pits nearby. As the great Naga shifted himself for more even heating the end of his tail emerged, black rattle lumps with a mean white streak down the middle.

He reached up to calmly tug at the cord near his seat, sparks rained from above as the steel wheel spun against the flint edge. The sparks lit the trail of oil resting in a ledge lip circling around the room, steadily flickering blues and greens bathed the walls. In the light his eyes narrowed back to their fine slits. His long ebony tongue flicked out to taste the air, easily a foot and a half long with a forked tip.

Then, he realized he was lonely. His gaze drifted along the long, finely polished oak table to the arching stone passageways of the chambers beyond and he felt the dire pangs of his solitude.

He had plenty of treasures and aesthetic pleasures but he had no one to share them with. The feeling had well tugged at him before; it caused him pained frustrations that he thought he could fill with material objects. Yet, here they were again.

Finally he took to planning, his mind adrift with just who he should pursue. His thoughts eventually landed on the hovering concept of an older scaly female, his casually rolling wonder went to a dragoness. He knows them to range further in age than his kin, and amply hoped to be a more intelligent partner.

The whole prospect of how to lure one to his self was another matter. It could be as simple as a quest to some lair? No. Send out formal written requests? No. Set a carefully planned trap, and await some unsuspecting dragon gal morsel? Yes, most definitely yes, it fit his personality to the core.

But what to use for bait? Well he was after females, so what would attract the more fair gender? He had recently raided that sweets caravan, and those honey based chocolates should work great. What else though? Perfumes, that should work well, oh, and to appeal to the dragonic portion of her, he definitely should use gems and gold.

Slowly Shackles slipped from his warm roost amid the sand, his scales slipping against the heated lip of the stone basin that contained his sleeping sands. He progressed through the arched passageways towards his treasury, sliding among the smooth octagon obsidian tiles joined on all sides by radiant white grout. For sake of cleaning ease the entire floor was covered by crystal clear rough resin that dried rock hard.

He slithered amid the piles of gems and gold; steadily he progressed until he caught hold of a rather ornate wooden and steel chest. The shiny treated finish on the pale wood was intricately carved with flanks of polished steel woven in the shapes of leaves, he carelessly scooped up a fine share of gold and gems then proceeded to shuffle and fill the box with gold. He proceeded to bug it lopsided and close to a shelf that held various potions and perfumes. He tipped open a couple here and there, his tongue flipping out to taste the perfumed air.

The steady progress heralded by the slithering path amid the treasure slowly gave way as weight settled the piles. Shackles finally contented with the amassed bait, placing the three glass bottles amid the coins and gems he proceeded out of his treasury in a sliding path towards the lair entrance. Hewn stonework gave way to rough and uneven stone of the natural cavern and awhile after the perfumed oil flame troughs had gone from sight, the light of the early day filtered in from the cavern opening.

As he reacted the cavern opening, his sight fell upon the dark back of venerable oaks that flanked either side of the cavern mouth. The ample reds, yellow, and oranges of autumn littered the forest floor, covering the normal brown cropping of deep forest refuse.

Shackles flicked his tongue out to taste the air, already the nearby squalling city was awakening. The hearty smell of cooking meats, wood fireplaces, and brine air drifted across his long ebony tongue. He swiveled his head about to find some place to set his trap, somewhere close to his lair, yet also close to the thoroughfare from which to draw his muse, and yet not so close as to attract unwanted company. He slid away amid the bramble bushes he often used to conceal the lair entrance, his travels took him over the roadway and to the dead lightening-struck oak.

He laid the chest amid the hollowed inside of the fallen tree's stump; carefully he opened the trunk and lightly unstopped a bottle of perfume. His best hopes aiming to attract the attentions of a sharp-nosed dragon lass. Leaving a the bait set amid the oak's remains, he set about slithering beneath the leaf strewn bushes of a small clearing, he hid the greater portion of his frame amid the tall bushes, then waited with mild anticipation.

He sat patiently for hours, he felt the carefree rumbles of merchants traversing the road with carts laden with goods and wares long before he heard or saw them. His ebony tongue flickered out now and again as he scented the perfumed silks or confectionary delights that the port city was known for. Occasionally the lupine features of guards or the large feline features of traders and artisans would pass him, their back bending legs holding them erect and alert as their caravans passed through his domain. They were right to be alert; he would often raid the poorly defended trade route for his own meaningless gain.

Occasionally the scent of woman would dance along his tongue; the sweet voices an angelic chorus to his normally solitary condition. His unseen eyes would follow them to drink in the curves of their figures, drawing in the brilliant colors of silks and cottons they wore.

He found appeal in the passing beauties, but chastised himself; he already knew his target and goal. So he steadied his nerves and waited, the sun raised high in the sky, and it placed the forest into a tranquil festival of shadows and lights. The coastal noon breeze picked up, drifting the fresh salted air across his tongue while the wind tickled the leaves overhead to stir a hushed chorus.

Finally he saw her. She was walking the trail towards the port city of Kan'Eth along the wagon beaten trail. She stood about 6 feet tall with a couple more inches from her curled dark peach horns. The scales along her body's narrow frontal scales a pale peach, her hair was worn long and its raven colored strands cascaded down her back to a point below her wing joints. Her wings were folded neatly, but one could tell the color scheme that applied. The muscular support of her winds scales were a tanned cream, whereas the membrane of her wings was a pale peach.

She walked along confident and surefooted; thought came to an abrupt stop. She paused and turned her head into the air to sniff curiously about in an attempt to discern something. Shackles at once pondered if she had caught the scent of him but was rewarded as she veered from the path towards his bait.

He couldn't help but be satisfied as she approached, her scaled and graceful figure wedged tightly into a leather adventure set. The outfit left her flanks so exposed that even the sides of her taunt restrained cleavage showed. The outfit left her back entirely bare, with only a scant loop of leather over her neck to secure it. Looking closer he could see several thin leather bindings around her waist that held up the front of her garb lightly. The outfit ended just above mid-thigh and the black leather boots with silver side buckles matched well with the black leather outfit.

He watched her catch sight of the chest corner and pause, he watched her approach it before giving a shrill cry of glee and close amazingly quick on the chest. He waited as he watched her stoop down and run the coins through her fingers. He slowly slipped from his hiding place as she examined the gems; he slowly rose up to his full height approaching under the cover of clanking coins.

She paused as she caught the reflection of him in the coin she was holding. Staying still for a breathe before swinging around into a low crouch and drawing her dagger. She watched him steadily, her dark pink irises fixed on him.

"So my sweet winged princess, what brings you to my humble hunting grounds?" Shackles let out with a cool low tone, his eyes watching on hers, looking for even the smallest telltale flick of warning.

"Sweet words from a cold blooded forked tongue." She watched him, eyes flicking left, and up to gauge which way to make a dash for freedom.

Shackles swished his tail loudly in the bush to her left; this caused her to glance heartily into the depths of it6 to await another unwanted visitor. She snarled unpleasantly, and tartly questioned, "Couldn't handle me by yourself, you big bas

---

."

She was cut short as Shackles plowed into her like a spring-loaded trap, his torso slamming into hers firmly enough to make her drop the dagger as he took her from her feet. Only momentarily stunned, she began to fight back, her strongly packed arms pushing him away. Shackles scrapped for purchase against her body while trying to avoid grabbing her clothes or wings. Eventually she got her legs involved wedging them against his torso and pushing him away. He leaned into the push, watching her scales begin to sheen with sweat.

Quickly working to free his tail from the brush, Shackles let her push him off. Just as she thought about scrambling away, he hauled her up into the air. His tail wrapping around her legs as she gave a meep and squirmed, steadily the thick coil raised her into the air higher.

She flopped about a bit, all dignity removed as she attempted to pull his coils off of her trapped thighs. "Let go of me you damn jerk!" She pounded on his coils with her clenched fists as he raised her further into the air. She huffed her cheeks out and glared indignantly at him upside down with her arms crossed.

Shackles let his tongue slip out with a brief flick as she glared at him, more feeling than hearing the low rumble deep inside her as he held her aloft. "You are event cute when you pout."

She let out an outraged yelp, smacking his holding coil with full strength causing him to flinch, "You have some damn nerve! Grabbing me up like some prize, and then flirting with me!"

"Oh, but my dear you are my prize." He slowly righted her as she blushed, though he didn't know if it was from being upside down or something else.

She grumbled as she was righted, still flowering at him but it seemed to lack some of its former venom. "I am not some tavern wench you can just get handsy with."

"No, you most certainly are not." His tongue flicked out as she glowered at him, and he could feel her heart rate slow as she no longer felt in mortal peril.

She watched him, occasionally giving a squirm to test just how tightly he was holding her. He let her pry a little more room for herself before binding tightly about her. She gave a little squeal at the sudden grip before rasping out, "Hardly the way to treat a lady."

Shackles gave a short huff of amusement, and coiled her around to sitting on his coils, on coil around her waist to keep her there, "Better?"

She pushed on the holding coil, failing to get free she glared at him. "Yes, but only a bit. Let me go!" She swung her legs against his coils and growled.

Shackles watched her squirm inside his grip, he felt the blows land, and then he smiled, "My name is Shackles, pleased to meet you."

She watched him for a bit, then finally huffed back, "Mine is Jessarin Orchard-Horn, now will you let me down? This is rather debasing." She turned her head away from him.

He let his holding coil slip from her waist, and she almost immediately hopped down and tried to flee. He pursued her as he watched her vault over several coils before enfolding her stomach down on the ground under the weight of several of them. She gruffed and growled, giving a surprised yip as he pulled her up into his arms. "Mmm, no more trust for you."

"You really expected me to stay?" She grumbled as he tucked her into his arms, making her kiss her knees with his left arm behind her head, and his right holding her legs up at the knees. He stopped briefly to close and lug the chest up, he put it right between her knees, and then he proceeded right along on taking her back to his lair.

He proceeded along with her wedged tightly to his chest, his grip steady as they entered the natural cavern mouth of his lair. Eventually the warm perfumed air reached his tongue, and the oncoming scent and glow made her head poke up. She pressed against his chest with a growl. "You best not be thinking anything crude."

"Only the crudest actually" he replied in a simple matter of fact tone. Steadily he slithered his way into the reaches of his lair, heading into the treasury. He gripped the chest she was holding, but found her adamantly glued to it.

"This is to cover the tithe for your manhandling of me." She glowered at him with a pout, entirely serious about keep the chest.

"Alright, might as well put you with the rest of the treasure then." His tongue flicked out to slip quickly over her face. She blinked in surprise at that, then more so as he set her down amongst the piles of gold.

She glanced around herself incredulously as he left her there, a touch flustered. Amid healthy sums of gold, she was torn between wanting to polish herself with it and thinking of running. "At least you have one thing I like."

Shackles didn't miss a beat, "Oh, my wonderful eyes?"

Jessarin paused giggling softly, what an absurd snake. "No, silly boy, piles of shiny wealth." She leaned back amid the gold, and he smiled at her as she relaxed.

Shackles paused to observe her with casual enjoyment; his eyes alight with mischievous fire. "Oh? I thought your standards were higher, but if I can have you for a night for half the pile then consider it a deal."

As Jessarin listened, each passing word just made her more and more flustered. The thought did pass through her mind to accept his deal; it wasn't exactly a small sum. She raked her digits through the metallic measures of wealth, well knowing that even half of it was enough to keep her well off for several dozen years. "Let me think on it."

Shackles watched her with mild cunning, his tongue flicking out now and then to scent her warm aroma. The almost narcotic allure of her scent all the sweeter as she was content to let him watch on. "How about a bath and dinner before you decide?"

Jessarin perked a brow, cautious of scaly men with luring treats, "A private bath?"

Shackles nodded, leaning back on his coils much the same way she was laying on the gold, his tongue flicking out again, "Yes, a private bath."

Jessarin lifted her arm to arch and unfurl and furl her fingers, in a noble dismissal to being service. "Prepare my bath then."

Shackles chuckled and pulled her from her golden roost, he ushered her along to a vast chamber. In its center the grand 10 foot by 30 foot pool that stood as his bath, the flooring made of pumice, and the rim of basalt. A vast cast iron cobra around the burning brazier cast light through the chamber.

Jessarin let out a low whistle at the sight; she went over and ran a hand up one of the basalt pillars that supported the roof. "It must take forever to fill this thing with pails."

Shackles gave another one of those hissing laughs again, "Hardly, why use a pail when a better means exists."

Jessarin turned to look at him in interest, "How so?"

Shackles began turning a hand wheel and the wall on the wall which unleashed a torrent of water through the cast iron cobra. The metal hissed loudly as it greatly heated the water coursing through it. Instantly steaming hot water spilled from the cobra's mouth cascading down into the bath. The incoming water cooled as the heat from the cast iron was leached away. "See?"

She nodded slowly, Shackles did seem to have his tastes, "marvelous, now if you would just be on your way."

Shackles nodded sharply, letting a low hissing chuckle out. He pulled open a hollow in the basalt column nearest the door, inside were a number of batch gels and fine salts. He left her to her own device as the room began to fog; he turned the hand wheel closed as he departed.

Jessarin looked over her shoulder to make sure he had departed before beginning to unhook her outfit. She unbuckled her boots and stepped free of them, and then slowly worked over the lacing on her top to loosen and eventually slip off the tight black leather. She slid the garment to the ground and stepped clear, her perky breasts remained high and firm as she hooked her thumbs into her panties to slip the simple lace garment off. She tested the water lightly with a toe before adding a dash of salts and a tip of oil to the bath. She slowly sank into the lavish bath before beginning to relax and enjoy herself.

Shackles busied himself with cooking, namely grilling sweet meats and making herb root stew with potatoes. His casual demeanor allowed him to briskly and quickly complete the work, cleaning as he went. He poured smoky sugar bar syrup over the meats, and added the drippings to the stew to make it more wholesome.

He then slithered back to the reaches of the bath; he collected up her discarded leathers, and then left black and silver silks in their place. He left her to bathe, hearing her singing softly amid the basalt pillars as she relaxed. So he took his leave, his tail swishing softly behind his back to make his rattle buzz lightly, "Dinner is ready."

Jessarin moved calmly to a polished oak seat, laying her tail across her stomach which lay bare, the silks covered her chest and the better portion of her thighs. But they left her mid drift exposed, "You sneaky, sneaky snake."

"I think they look good on you." His jaw pulled tight to lightly curl the corners of his mouth, the closest he every got to a smile.

"Still mad at you." She combed out her hair with her fingers as it began drying.

"So with that settled, enjoy dinner." He smiled as he laid forward the trays, also including trays of dates, candied fruits, and assortment of caramel-coated nuts.

With that, dinner began. There was only a minor amount of small talk where Shackles learned that Jessarin was 50 years older than him, putting her at 275, still rather young for a dragoness. He had also learned that she was headed for Dragons' Roost by way of chartered ship to find a clan before her service years.

"So where I am sleeping?" She asked while stretching her arms and wings out before a yawn consumed her features.

"Your chambers are this way." He held out his arm to guide her, already half lidded with comfort and tiredness from a warm filling meal. He led her amid the maze of his lair to a room sprawling with cushions and a large down mattress, and then he pointed out the privy facilities across the way.

"Thank you; now do be on your way." She purred and patted his jaw, and then she went about setting up her roost. Oddly content with thin sheets amid the constant warmth of his lair.

Shackles gave soft airy chuckles and went on his way, a gentle smile sounding his maw, "As you wish princess." On his way back to his sleeping throne, he threw a lever to engage his façade walls, effectively sealing off his lair. He decided he would sleep well tonight.

The night bled through into the hours of dawn without incident. Shackles arose earlier than usual as the heat of his bed ebbed off. Apparently he forgot to feed it more charcoal last night with all of the excitement. He made note of that while he crawled from his fine sands, returning shortly to feed a dense charcoal briquette into the fire basin beneath his throne.

He then stretched out his arms and whipped his tail griplessly across the floor several times. He paused to comfortably roll his shoulders as he went to confront the new thing amid his underground lair.

Turns out she was still asleep, his tail flowing him into the room until he was sitting high on his own coils. She woke slowly, her hair mussed in a bed-tangled fusion. Her eyes blinking at him slowly as she propped herself up, her maw pulled a long yawn as she looked around.

Shackles let out a soft chuckle, "Sleep well?"

"Like the dead." Jessarin replied as she stretched out some, the silks she wore to bed slightly askew from nighttime shifting.

Curious as always, and enjoying the sight of her stretching out, Shackles reached out and caught her around her mid-drift, his strong fingers kneading into the coiled fibers of her torso. His grip steadily getting stronger as he pushed against the tension holding the bands of muscle taunt. She began to push back against him as his fingers massaged up her back, the constant circular motion of his digits causing a ripple amid her scales as his hand climbed higher. She was almost laying her weight into him as his grip around her reached the point that her wings met her back. As her back arched and her wings drooped, he reached her neck, she craned it up tense as he began unknotting her shoulders only to melt as he continued to massage her neck.

"Keep it up and I'll go right back to sleep." She rumbled pleasantly, relaxing in his grip.

He smirked his snakish smirk again, then he let go of her neck. Just as she was doing a plaintive whine, be nudged her onto her stomach and massaged down her lower back. She rumbled into the silk cushions deeply as he made it down to her tight rear, her tail lifted and the silk came free as he massaged her rump. She was murring contently and pushing her rump into his tight grip, slowly relaxing back down as he moved on to her thighs, calves and ankles.

"Now the front you handsy devil." She purred and slipped her legs from his grip, slowly turning over and taking her upper silk off.

He smiled his snakish smile and began at her shoulders, his firm grip heated by her body and his working hands. He stared calmly into her eyes, his caressing grip finding her perky breasts and massaging the muscle beneath. All the while casually cupping her breasts and running over the tender nubs of flesh that made her nipples. He smirked again and quit his cupping rubs to cascade his grip in a tight massaging roll down her flanks just as she started to press back into the chest rub. This drew a plaintive growl from her, but it receded as his hands caressed over her taunt stomach and down along her thighs. His fingers nimbly avoiding her more sensitive inner thighs even as she worked to put them in his hands.

Then he stopped all together, his grip slipping away and leaving her growling.

"You play evil, evil games." She half- heartedly glared at him.

He pulled her up to her feet, pressing her heated nude body against his slightly cooler frame. He grinned roguishly as his hands went behind her and between her thighs to rub softly against her inner thighs.

She pressed harder against him both trying to press back into the caress of his grip, and pull away from it as his digits skillfully danced against the upper reaches of her inner thighs. He came close to but never did touch her sex; the glistening lips of her heated sex did wet his fingers with proof of her need. He hissed long and pleasantly while drawing back his fingers.

Shackles slowly drew his fingers up, then he slipped his tongue agilely around to clean her nectar from his digits, "As sweet as the owner."

She blushed and pressed up against him need fully grinding into his scales, she almost relished their rougher texture against her body. The contrast gave her shivers as she gripped her claws against his hide, softly she bit against his neck, "Stop teasing me!" She followed it with a playful growl edged with need.

He smiled again and slowly slipped her arms off; he ran his fingers over her arms slowly. He grinned right before shackling them behind her back, he hissed pleasantly as she gave a surprised groan. Shackles then smacked her tight rear a couple of times, holding her tail up as he struck her bottom. When she was biting her lip against the sting, and her inner thighs slick with arousal.

He let her fall back onto the pillows and left, chuckling a bit as he departed.

Jessarin sat stunned for a while, when it was apparent he wasn't coming back soon she began to pleasure herself with her tail. The thoughts running through her head as she toyed herself to climax was how he might feel in her, and all the wondrous things she would make that exotic tongue do for her.