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This was a commission done for Dragcoin, who gave me a fair amount of creative freedom on this one: https://dragcoin.sofurry.com/

Description: In this kinky story, the dragon Temeraire must learn the wicked truths that hide behind dragon reproduction at the hands of a specialized team of breeders that equip him with a heavy harness layered with all sorts of sexual (and highly arousing) implementations.

*Temeraire's Trials 1: Harnessed Up*

“All I'm saying…No, suggesting," Laurence waved his hand with style under the curious eyes of his dragon." Is to try and open that big, scaly mind of yours to a broader palette of possibilities. There are so many more ways to serve your country other than diving head-first into battle. Or you can just rest your life away like that." Laurence laughed once Temeraire yawned sleepily and rested his head on top of a forepaw.

“Anything else?" the dragon asked, making his captain raise his eyebrow inquisitively.

“Is that a real question? I'll pretend I haven't heard it."

Laurence rested his back against one of Temeraire's scaly forelegs. The night packed a bit of a chill here in the wilderness of the countryside, but even the cold winds coming from the faraway forest were not sharp enough to slither beneath his military outfit. For many days he had been out here, surrounded by nothing but cold silence. Laurence was used to the life of a soldier; used enough to realize the value of the lives he had to protect. Temeraire's stood above them all. Strangely enough, even if the indomitable dragon towered above an ordinary human, Laurence still feared for the dragon's safety, especially with the arguments Temeraire brought to the table. Why wait here for a female to impregnate? Why not just do our duty to England by fighting for her, like we've always had?

The human sighed. Be prepared for anything had been the code he lived his life under ever since he was old enough to hold a weapon. He expected a day like this to come, when the country would ask them to swallow their pride for the greater good. He understood the meaning of sacrifice well.

But Temeraire? The dragon's silence eroded at the captain's confidence further and further. Over the past hour or so, Laurence had been trying to convince the stubborn black dragon of the good he was about to do. A silent yes could seal the deal, but, as always, draconic pride had a way of getting in the way of the simplest of plans.

“Are you going to say something or brood by yourself all night?" Laurence adjusted his position against Temeraire's haunch. He sat on a pair of large scaly toes, enjoying the gentle heat exuded through the onyx black scales.

“I figured you know me well enough to take a guess." Temeraire gently trailed his claws over the ground. He stared in the distance. Where in particular, Laurence couldn't know.

“I'd prefer something more solid than just a hunch." The young captain picked himself up with a groan. He reached a hand towards the dragon's head, still way out of his reach until the dragon lowered it on the ground. Their eyes met, briefly. For a moment Laurence feared he estranged the dragon with his insistence, then a stifled sigh escaped through his tense jaws when warm scales greeted his fingers.

“I'd never ask you to do something I wouldn't do." He gently washed his hands over the warm, moist scales that surrounded his twitching nostrils. “I hope you know that."

“Do I?" The dragon pushed himself further into the caressing embrace of his partner. He gave a lazy huff when Laurence found the sensitive tendrils under his chin. “Mrawhm, you sure know how to treat a dragon, Laurence. But tell me. Tell me one instance when the admiralty required you to breed for the good of the country."

“Well…that requires some digging." Laurence took a break from the dragon to scratch through his own rough semblance of a beard. Marriage was not something he planned for. At least not while the country was still at war.

“Cooking up quite the lie, are you?" Temeraire gave him an encouraging nudge. “Go on. I guarantee nothing can measure up to their current request."

“Is that so bad though?" Laurence allowed his hands to slide along the dragon's jaw all over again, then took a step back and crossed his arms once the dragon's eyes narrowed. “Temeraire, dear, you cannot honestly think the warm embrace of a female is worse than the cold bite of a spear. I have done things I am not proud of too, but such is life. Sometimes, we do what we want, and sometimes, we do what we're told."

“Have you done it, then?" The dragon pressed on.

“No, but like I said, I have been in dozens similar situations that-“

“Then don't presume to understand what is asked of me." Temeraire settled his head on the ground with a growl that left no further room for arguing.

A sudden feeling of guilt washed over Laurence. As he looked over the dragon's splendorous form, he was strongly, painfully reminded he wasn't talking to just any other winged beast. This was the hatchling he bonded with in the cargo hold of a ship. The dragon he's been through so many adventures with. The loyal companion he ate with, slept together with, flew upon the winds of freedom like no human ever could on their own. Temeraire was more than a friend. He was a creature that got closer to his soul than any other human he served with.

“I'm sorry." Laurence crawled over to the dragon's silent head. He crouched in front of the enormous snout, parting his hands to hug his beloved dragon. He shivered gently when the long exhale brought a tide of hot, humid air that sunk into his clothes. “You're right. I just…I'm the sort of man that always tried to do the right thing, and this…this just might bring us closer to the end of the war. Is that not something worth fighting for, partner?"

A soft rumbling purr was the reply he received. With each calm breath, the dragon's chest expanded to allow his nostrils to unleash the tempest of humid air upon him.

“What if that right thing is staring us in the face right now?" Temeraire's icy blue eyes shifted from Laurence to the starry sky above them.

“I can't leave in an unsanctioned mission. I gave the admiralty my word. They need us, Temeraire."

“See? That is exactly what worries me." The dragon shook his ebony head, tendrils flailing from one side to the other. “This conviction you have, that their way is the best way."

“I…not necessarily, but right now, I sure do believe that."

Temeraire released a short growl as his eyes found the human once more. “Why, Laurence? What prompts such change of heart after all we've been through together? We've won our fair share of engagements. Fighting is what we do best."

“Is that all we are? Soldiers in a never-ending war?"

Laurence closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He knew Temeraire would not have an answer for that, so his mind went back in time, to the earlier days of his career, when he was just an eager grunt eager to prove himself to his officer, just like the dragon he talked with.

“Ours is not to reason why; ours is but to do or die." The words came out of his mouth in a steady whisper dwarfed by the dragon's breath. He almost believed Temeraire didn't hear him up until he felt the dragon's soft tendrils slither over his cold hands.

“Where is that from?"

Laurence paused his caress to tap his head with his index finger, smiling as the dragon pushed his snout harder into his chest. “Come on, cough up the truth. A grunt like you can't possibly be smart enough to come up with something so sophisticated."

“Oh, is that what you think, your hugeness?" Laurence swiftly grabbed onto one of larger, silky black tendrils that hung from his chin. “Pray tell me, dear, what gives you the impression I'm anything but sophisticated?"

“Your barbaric paws." The dragon hissed as he tried to free himself from the oppressive grip of his rider.

“Your mannerisms. Your stench." He backed that last line with a snort.

“Is that so?" Laurence smiled. “You call a splash of pine needles over an assortment of scented oil stench? Why, I believe you need to take another whiff of our proper British army."

The dragon pulled, and growled, and shook his head until he managed to free himself.

“Your strident perfumes are hardly the pheromones of a female." He stood over the fallen human with a proud look about his face. “Admit it."

“Yeah." Laurence reached to tease him again, only to have the dragon sneak his snout out of his reach. “That's a valid comparison…befitting a beast of your stature."

“Befitting a what?" Temeraire lowered himself into a stalking position. “Dare say it again."

Laurence cursed at himself for his slip of tongue. “A splendorous, most wonderful dragon! I've had a- one of those moments, you know?"

No. He didn't. Not nearly enough to hold his blasted tongue. When he found himself swiped off the ground into the dragon's forepaw, Laurence knew his fancy suit was doomed to a most unfortunate death by dragon nibbles. He fought bravely; or well, as bravely as a pup could against a wolf bent on grazing every part of him, but even inside his fleshy maw, Temeraire seemed to have no weakness.

“Gah, we really need to work on your manners. Look at this. My suit is all ruined." Laurence flung off a blob of saliva from his soaked cuffs after more than a dozen of long, sloppy licks.

“It's still whole, at least." Temeraire inspected every corner of him with a critical eye. “See? I held back the biting!"

“You call this holding back…" Laurence tapped him between the nostrils, knowing how annoying that was for a dragon. “You're lucky you're you. If any other dragon slathered me in such uncivilized manner, I'd have them sent to the breeding pens in an instant. Though you'd probably like that, you ornery beastie." He added in a silent enough whisper as the dragon curled around himself to scratch his itch on the back of a forepaw. His steady rumble could be interpreted in a plethora of ways, but Laurence knew the dragon bore him no ill will once a wing jerked up in invitation.

“No. Don't bother." He said as he settled down. “Your breath's just as bloody moist as your tongue. Just keep it here." Laurence gently directed the encroaching snout onto his legs.

“I've ruined it." Temeraire's gaze drifted away with shame.

“Soaked it. There's a difference." Laurence patted him encouragingly. “Worry not. It'll dry in no time, and if there's stains, I can always give it over to the wenches to wash it."

“But…this is your best outfit, isn't it?"

Laurence's eyes softened under the regret present in the dragon's eyes. “It's just cloth, dear. It stains, it tears, it ages, but it can always be replaced…unlike some other things."

“This must be where you tell me how wonderful my wing is." Temeraire flared out both of his wings with pride.

“Oh, true. But a single wing does no justice to the scaly majesty that is the entirety of you." His palm gently traced over lustrous scales until it found a blue tipped frill to caress.

“Tell me." The dragon shuddered with bliss. “Fashion my exploits into a tale. And-and be sure to mention my physical attributes."

“And die of old age? That list knows no end," Laurence chuckled.

“Not if you stick to the best parts." The dragon lovingly snuggled his head into his embrace.

“And what would those be? Your little snakes here? Or is it these frills?"

Laurence didn't see the tail lashing in his direction until it was too late.

“Ow!" He groaned as the tip tapped him on the cheek again. “Give me that, you silly lizard." Laurence smirked once he caught onto the slim, frilled tip of the whipping menace. “See? Every part of you is now under my control."

The dragon threw him a playful look at that, as if saying is that what you really think? By the time Laurence realized what he planned, Temeraire grabbed him within his forepaws and squeezed the human against his chest so hard Laurence started coughing.

“I…wasn't…serious."

“What are you implying? That I should just let you go after besmirching my fine features?"

“Besmirch? I haven't besmirched anything, you bloody whisker-face!"

“See, that just begs for extra punishment." Temeraire tucked his wings in and rolled onto his back. Laurence's groans had little effect on him. With the prey firmly clutched in his claws, Temeraire beat his wings a few time to make himself even more comfortable, then brought his soggy, twitching nostrils inches away from his captain's head. “Now help me choose your rightful reward. Shall we get you really hot, or really wet?"

Laurence was in the process of prying away one of the dragon's claws when Temeraire's improper words hit him like a spear to the chest.

“What amuses you such? I wouldn't laugh if we were to switch places."

“Oh, you'd like me to get on top of you, wouldn't you now?" Laurence patted the dragon's scaly fingers. “Why, I believe you're holding me so tight for a certain thing you dragons do when the flames of passion slither under your scales."

“No, that's not…" Temeraire cocked his head back.

“No? Are you sure about that?" Laurence shuddered under the powerful vibrations of the dragon's growl. “This the prelude? Or we're skipping to the good parts?"

A gust of hot air ruffled through his hair like a tempest. “I wasn't talking about that!" Right after he spoke, the dragon's slimy tongue rolled over Laurence's flushed face. “You." Temeraire licked him again. “Aren't supposed." His tongue made a second quick pass that had the human spit out the excess slime from his lips. “Enjoy yourself."

“Bloody hard when you're kissing me!"

“I'm licking!" Temeraire finished his rant with a snarl that was supposed to be fierce, only, he looked even more adorable. “Why do you have to be such a nuisance? I could always brush you through the dirt or slap the wind out of you with my tail, but I always hold back, because…"

“Because what? Please, finish that sentence."

An awkward moment of silence ensued between the two.

“Dear God. It's right there." Laurence said. “Plastered all over your face."

The dragon swiped his wet tongue over his snout.

“No, not dirt, you silly creature. You're…you're into me, aren't you?"

“Of course. We're partners." Temeraire put on a show of false bravado by flaring out his frills. “What sort of dragon would I be, to let rank get between us?"

“I'm not talking about rank, but of something more…well, you know." Laurence leaned in closer for a whisper. “Intimate." He could see the surprise brewing in his dragon's icy blue eyes, so, with a proud smile of victory latched upon his face, Laurence leaned even closer to the dragon's snout; so close in fact he could almost kiss him. “Though, if you really want to get warm under the scales, I could tell you about one of your places I still haven't touched."

As expected, the dragon's vice grip unfastened in an instant, allowing Laurence to slide down on the hard, cold ground. “Easy victory." He dusted himself off over the dragon's annoyed growls. “Honestly, I expected more of a challenge from one who takes pride in demeaning us lowly humans, but I suppose not every part of you is clad in resilient scales."

“I…" already curled around himself, Temeraire further shielded his head under a wing. “I was just playing with you…"

“I know." Laurence approached. “May I?" he pointed at the dragon's haunch. Once Temeraire dipped his head in agreement, Laurence settled back on the ground, one hand rested comfortably on his knees, the other, around one of the dragon's impressive claws. “Don't ponder more than you should, dear. I used whatever tricks I had at my disposal to gain an edge over you. Although, if you're still inclined to hear me out, I can tell you a couple of raunchy stories of my days in the squads."

“You've already told me all your war stories." Temeraire gave a short, growly sigh.

“Not this sort I haven't. If I don't crack the ice now, somebody else will, and it'd reflect poorly on my reputation to have my dragon blush like a young maid once somebody mentions the word cock."

“Blushing is human specific."

“Oh, right. I forgot you dragons like to nibble on things when you're embarrassed."

Caught in the act, Temeraire licked his forepaw one last time and shifted his tail tip over his foreleg instead. “I wasn't nibbling."

“If you say so. Now, try to picture this regimen. Wake up before the sun rises over the horizon. Run with boulders strapped upon your back. Learn everything there is about aerial warfare. You know, I went through this grueling regimen alright, but it wasn't the fatigue or the strictness that got to me. It was that first water barrel I had to share with a dozen other people. Faces, really. There is no way to both keep to the schedule and memorize all their names on your first day…but you know what stuck?"

“Don't say it. Please."

“The cold bite of the water when it met my skin." Laurence laughed. “What? You expected something more suggestive than that?"

“No…" Temeraire growled silently.

“Oh, then it must be different with you dragons. Come on…you must've caught a peek, even by accident."

“No!" The dragon picked his head up at that. “I'm not…we're not so loose in that aspect."

“Poor choice of words, dear." Laurence teased him with another wave of fond strokes over his neck. “Why, I vividly remember how you reacted around a certain female that happened to be very interested in your-“

The leg he rested against suddenly shoved him forward, right into the clawy grip of a forepaw. This time, Temeraire didn't just hold onto him. He slammed Laurence with his back against the ground, then snarled at him.

“Charm…" Laurence finished his line of thought with a long sigh. “Your sense of guessing is about as awful as those french dragons we fought. However, let's say we were to be serious about this. There is no reason in the whole world to be ashamed of anything that revolves around the act of producing eggs."

“You're like a hatchling, tearing into his first piece of meat."

“I'm not the one drooling over said meat right now."

The dragon shook his head in dismay before he lifted his paw off the trapped human. “Were you a dragon, I'd share more on the subject, but since that is hardly the case, I will just find a quiet place to wait until the admiralty's envoys arrive."

“Good. A duty is a duty, no matter what shape it comes in." Laurence said as dusted himself off. “I suppose you want to be by yourself?"

The dragon walked a few steps in silence before he turned his majestic head around. “One rule."

“I know. No further teasing." Laurence slid his hand along his tail up until he reached his forepaw, which he patted fondly. “Now go. Let's find that cozy place of yours before my hands freeze stiff."

They settled on top of a hill. The warmth radiating from the dragon's curled body was a most welcome gift, but it was the leathery wing that stood like a mountain against the wind that made Laurence feel truly blessed to have a dragon by his side. The two of them waited in silence, each passing the time in their own ways. Laurence reflected over the past week, while Temeraire scratched lines into the ground. Probably markings or numbers. Laurence cared not to find out what.

However, he noticed the restlessness that took hold of him. Laurence noticed it in the suave shudders of a wing. In the swishes of his tail tip.

Even in the very air he breathed. He took a few whiffs, and, sure enough, Laurence caught onto a spicy tint that stood out from the dragon's usually dull scent.

It's probably some lingering spices from a caravan, his tired mind whispered into his ears. Yawning, Laurence prepared to settle into a napping position. He first rested his hand on the ground for balance…

Then froze when his fingers brushed past grass laden with lukewarm lubrication. Laurence had an inkling of what that was. He could ignore it.

But something inside of him made his fingers brush together to test the silky consistency of the fluid, lukewarm and nice, almost like saliva. The captain blushed fiercely when he realized what he touched, and sneakily wiped himself on his pants. No word came out of his mouth as he laid down on the ground. Not even a gasp. He just stayed there and breathed steadily until Temeraire shifted his leg. Laurence could feel his sharp claws digging deeper into the soft ground. He could tell what Temeraire suffered from the shiver that ran through his powerful muscles. He was not just restless.

He was aroused. And a quick peek at the glistening tip of his malehood confirmed that.

Dear God, Laurence cursed the perverse curiosity that forced his eyes to wander in a place he never gazed upon before. Please. Let this pass unperturbed. You know I never ask much of you. He's just so very dear to me, and something like this can…

“Laurence?"

“Y-yes?" The human mentally cursed his stutter. “What's on your mind, dear?"

“This endless waiting. Are you sure we got the time right?"

“Yes. I am quite certain of that. Lay down your head for a while. I'm sure they'll come. And probably so will you."

That lone stray thought kept the captain in a constant state of tension. Weird, forbidden, perverted thoughts assailed his mind. He found himself not just repeating the discovery over and over again, but picture scenarios he never thought before, of Temeraire accomplishing his male duties with not only dragons, but humans too!

Laurence snapped his eyes open when he invariably found himself in one of those heated scenarios. His breath came out ragged. Heat flushed his skin.

And embarrassment kept his eyes shut, for he could not bear to look his dragon in the eye and straight up lie about this shameful moment of weakness.

“Laurence, you're…"

“I'm alright. Do you hear or smell anything? They should be upon us any moment now."

“I think I caught something." Temeraire pushed off the ground to better catch the wind in his nose. “There. Sunward. Four dragons, all male, and twelve other humans. None of them bear any weapons, and they're carrying something large. A harness of some kind."

“Must be one of those missions..." Laurence once again found his eyes wander where they should not. This time, he sighed with relief once he saw no hint of flesh poking out of his dragon's inconspicuous vent. Everything was just like how it should be.

Everything was going to work out alright.

The landing of the four dragons was accompanied by soft growls and silent chatter. Laurence walked ahead of Temeraire to greet what appeared to be their officer, a graying man with ruffled hair and a beard that grew in patches over his pockmarked face. At his side stood a woman with short cropped raven hair that, from a distance, looked more like a man. Both of them wore standard black outfits that stood out from the standard military colors of the other humans.

“Claes Ashford." The man saluted Laurence with a hearty shake of hands, then gave a slight bow in the direction of Temeraire. “You have come a long way from the squads, captain Laurence. It pleases me to see a man who doesn't forget his roots."

“You already know who we are. Congratulations," Laurence looked over the group of men and women that started to unload strange equipment off the four brown mature male dragons. “Correct me if I speak mistakenly, commander Ashford, but was not your detail supposed to escort a female?"

“We have not received such orders, captain Laurence." Ashford said. “Our mission has always been of one of collection. If you will move out of my way please."

“I'm afraid I don't understand." Laurence put himself in the man's path. “We've been told to-“

“Your original orders have changed," The raven-haired woman flicked a sign in the air, and immediately, the soldiers mobilized to surround a confused and unsettled Temeraire.

“Laurence?" the dragon curled around like a threatened cat.

“Wait. Hold on! I said hold!" Laurence moved in front of his dragon like a stoic guardian. “What is this mission about? I want to know all there is before we submit ourselves to any of this… whatever it is you're doing."

The two in charge, officer and commander, exchanged a look. Claes then stepped forward. “My apologies for getting straight to the point, captain, but the orders we bear come from the very top. I'm sure you know what that means. You are a respected captain that rides upon the back of a well renowned dragon. So I give you my word. No harm will come to him."

“What about discomfort? Do your orders contain anything about fitting that thing on my dragon?" Laurence pointed over at the strange harness that bore several grotesque implements like rings and something that even looked like the replica of a dragon's phallus.

“Dragons have been known to endure worse," Ashford gave a meek smile. “Now move aside, captain. Or have you been away from civilization for so long that you've forgotten what rank means in the British army?"

Laurence half-heartedly stepped back towards his dragon. “I don't like this. Don't like it one bit." He whispered to Temeraire, whose nostrils twitched to take in the scents.

“I smell unscented oil, wood, and steel. Laurence. What have we gotten ourselves into?"

“I don't know…but as much as I hate to admit, we have our orders. Treat this like any other battle. We've been through worse odds and survived. Right?"

Temeraire dipped his head. Laurence reached for his snout, giving a long sigh once the dragon ruffled his hair with his breath. Temeraire nuzzled him insistently, as if he never wished to part ways with him.

But for Laurence, it wasn't the touch or the look in his eyes that unmanned him. It was that weak, uncertain growl that came out of his maw once he looked over the harness. In many ways, this felt worse than an actual physical injury received during his service.

“Alright. Let's get to it." Ashford commanded once Laurence gave him leave.

Temeraire emboldened himself for the upcoming inspection by flaring out his frills. “You may approach."

As soon as those words were uttered, the humans closed in like a lasso, measuring different parts of him and writing their observations down on scratchpads.

“My, what a delightful specimen." The short-haired woman measured him up with utter fascination. “You are far more beautiful than words can ever describe. I am Nishka, and I'll be in charge of this operation."

“Pleased to make your acquaintance, Nishka." Temeraire lowered himself on his belly to allow her access to his body. “If I may ask, what are your plans with me?"

She started from his neck, her lithe hand flowing across his scales like the licks of a gentle sea. “A bit of this, a bit of that…nothing to really growl about. You and I are going to be done very fast. All that's required of you is to stay calm and comply with my requests."

“I can do that."

“Good. Move onto your side for me. Or roll on your back. Whatever feels more comfortable."

Temeraire looked at Laurence while he exposed his belly before the army of researchers. Nishka waved another sign back to her troops, and right on cue, four soldiers brought buckets of water, while a fifth unstrapped a blanket of some sort from one of the dragon's supply bags.

“We are going to start with a simple cleaning procedure." She said as she soaked the large swath of cloth into a bucket. “Legs spread, eyes up. I have to warn you, the water stings."

Temeraire hissed when the large swath of cloth fell not upon his leg, or even his inner haunch. Instead, it dropped straight on top of his sensitive vent.

“That's it. Hardest part is done." Nishka spoke while she rubbed the dragon like she would a floor, with large circular motions aimed for speed rather than comfort. Temeraire's lips trembled with discomfort, and when a hiss broke out of his jaws, Laurence found it unable to keep his irritation contained.

“Could you slow down a bit? That's my partner, not a dumb horse."

“Have you ever witnessed a dragon grooming?" Nishka huffed with effort, continuing her job unperturbed. “I have to be more thorough than he is with his tongue, so, unless you've spent your life stacking books on the breeding habits of dragons, I'd advise you to keep your opinions to yourself."

Laurence clenched his fists in anger. It wasn't right, for an aviator to turn a blind eye to his dragon's discomfort, who hissed when his vent was scrubbed over and snarled when Nishka dipped the cloth into the fleshy, inner parts of his rift.

Laurence prepared to intervene a second time, then Nishka wiped her face with the corner of the blanket and hooked it upon two of the dragon's claws.

“Rinse him." She said to the closest two men, then flicked her hand over to a third. “Envald, bring me the oils, and throw in the herbal tincture. Captain Laurence here seems to think I've irritated his dragon's privates."

“Oh, not to worry, sir, no worries at all." The old alchemist known as Envald rummaged through his satchel. “Dragons are well used to bites and scratches, even down there. Nishka saw her fair share of injuries. Trust her to treat your dragon fairly."

“I'll try." Laurence said curtly, watching how Nishka oiled up his dragon like a precious possession. He clenched his jaws when her petite hands often disappeared into his vent, the squelches of flesh mixed with the stranger breed of hisses coming out of his jaws a bit too much to bear.

Laurence tried to look away. To ignore the strange sounds his dragon made, the scent of herbs, the looks of the other soldiers that whispered to one another and grinned far too often. It all seemed a scene cut from a perverted play, with Temeraire as the main protagonist.

“Nobody's holding you here against your will, captain Laurence. First times can be hard when your dragon happens to find himself on the receiving end of our country's needs." Ashford came over to Laurence's side. “My Hyranyr was much younger when he first stepped into a breeding pen. He had no knowledge on how to do the deed, or how to even slink his way under a female's scales. His seed? Pah. A watery disgrace that had yet to acquire the proper consistency of maturity. He had been injured, shamed, refused, yet he came out of there with two females burdened with eggs, exhausted, but proud. I had him collected on the very next day."

“Touching tale. I suppose this is where you tell me what an awful job I've with my Temeraire." Laurence lifted a finger to interrupt Ashford. “But this is war, commander Ashford, and our job is to fight, not skip the courting games of dragons."

“Not everyone is born with a sword in their hand." Ashford gave him a sympathetic look. “We all do what we must for our country. Wouldn't you agree?"

“It's only that…I…" Laurence bit his lip when his dragon slammed his tail against the ground. Nishka went more than elbow deep inside him, doing God knows what inside a place no human should've been in. “THIS is not something I was trained for."

“Yes. I forgot." Ashford rubbed his patched bush of a beard. “You prefer to compare sizes with the French and dodge bullets in the skies."

“I'm a soldier." Laurence started to lose his temper.

That didn't work well with Ashford, a seasoned man twenty, thirty years older with far more experience. “You're a member of the British army. Act like it, or see yourself removed from this operation."

Leaving was not going to help Temeraire in any way, so Laurence swallowed his pride, clenched his jaws, watched the squelching show put on by Nishka with a look even sourer than Temeraire had on his snarly face.

Yet…something was different this time. Laurence had been so caught up in his own vitriol that he barely noticed how the dragon's growls changed their pitch. No longer sharp and jagged, they became smooth and soft, like the trickling of a serene river.

“Laurence…"

Temeraire's weakened voice immediately prompted the captain to act. Laurence ran over to his dragon's upturned head, brushing over his snout to comfort his dragon in whatever ways he could. “What's happening, dear? Tell me. Tell me everything."

“Mraawwhhh, don't…"

“Temeraire?" Laurence's heart skipped a beat. “What's she doing to you? Talk to me. Please."

Temeraire couldn't, even if he tried.

“Nishka!" Laurence stomped his way towards the woman that was just about to pour a bucket of something right on top of his vent. “What in the blazes are you doing to my dragon?"

“A harmless test, you beast." She tried to wrench her hand away from Laurence's steel-like grip. “Let go."

“Put. That bucket. On the ground." Laurence growled.

Nishka looked past him, undoubtedly at a bunch of soldiers that already moved to immobilize the threat in this very moment. Yet, instead of barking orders or playing Laurence's game, she just softened her voice. “Listen here. I had more dragons in my care than Ashford had men in his squads. If there's anything I know how to properly, it's handling dragons. And by that, I mean every part of them."

“Fine. I'll take your word for it. But if you harm even a scale-“

“You're harming me right now. Do you see me bare my fangs at you?" Nishka hissed.

Laurence let go, suddenly feeling foolish. This was the British army he addressed. All of them were on the same side.

“You're always free to lock yourself in a library if you think you can do better, captain Laurence." Ashford said from the side.

“Can I…stay with him, at least?" Laurence looked in Nishka's direction, who gave a quick shrug.

“I only need one part of him. You can have the head, paws, wings, and everything else."

Right after she spoke, she tilted the bucket, allowing a steady stream of steaming water to trickle over Temeraire's genital opening. It couldn't be uncomfortable, for the dragon's melodious growl was too warm, too right to denote any sort of discomfort.

“Lau…Lawwrrrrence…" He called out again, voice breaking under the wave of stimuli that assailed his senses.

“I'm here," the captain ran back to hug the dragon's snout. “They're almost done, dear. Only this bucket remains."

The dragon's lips trembled and curled, various hisses mixing in with the heat churning inside the depth of his throat. “That's not…arrrhhh…not what…worries me. I want…I want you to…keep away from…"

“Anything." Laurence stroke over the underside of his rumbling jaw. “Deep breaths, dear. Take a deep breath and tell me."

“Don't…look…" Temeraire managed to stutter before a long, steamy, whiny growl split his jaws apart. Saliva dripped from his forked tongue in the same way water trickled down his bulged vent.

Laurence blushed fiercely. Temeraire must've been under a great deal of pleasure. He never heard such sounds come out of him…up until now.

“I can't…I can't do that." He hugged his dragon's noisy snout. “We promised each other to stand together through good or bad. Why's embarrassing any different?"

“Laurence, please. I don't want you to…awwwrrr…think any less of me."

“Never." The human hugged him harder. “Nothing you say or do will ever see that happen. Do you understand me, partner? We're together in this. You and me. Just you and me, like it's always been from the beginning."

“My. What touch you have with your words." Nishka said from her fours. She appeared to be done with the bucket, moving back to the spongy blanket. “You should consider becoming an orator. That is, if you'll still be here once your beautiful dragon reaches full mast."

“Run? What do you take me for? A scared rabbit?"

“Hah, you certainly won't be the first that turned tail and ran." Nishka chuckled, massaging Temeraire with obvious expertise. “The army doesn't teach you this sort of discipline. There is something about dragon sexuality that conflicts with a common soldier's views, as proven by your unwillingness to stand aside."

“I'm only seeking to protect my dragon, as you and Ashford and any aviator would do in my stead."

“Well, you are soon going to learn you can't protect him from what drives me, you, them, and any other creature to survive. We think we understand the pull of instinct, but in that regard, dragons are way ahead of us."

Upon saying that, Nishka plunged both hands inside the dragon's squelching vent, the rhythmic contractions putting a smile on her face.

“It's starting. I'd advise you to look away, but I know determination where I see it. Just…don't scream too loud."

Laurence would have laughed in any other circumstance. But when Nishka dropped on her knees before the dragon's genitalia to welcome Temeraire's emerging tip into her water-soaked blanket, all of his thoughts got stuffed in the back of his mind. Truth was, he never expected to see his dragon's penis. Not from up-close. Not like…this.

Temeraire thrust into the blanket. Snout all scrunched up, Temeraire throbbed, on, and on, and on, making the blanket shudder and Nishka groan out trying to hold him in.

It was obvious how much he wanted to achieve the peak of release. His claws curled into the pads of his paws. His wings fluttered just as erratically as his tail lashed behind him. Each pulsation of hot blood must have showered him with hot pleasure, for with every throb, more of his pink flesh got pushed out of the vent. Nishka moved over towards his front to allow her grip to naturally flow along the tapered length of the dragon's hardening cock. Temeraire's tool was neither as smooth as Laurence expected, nor as simple in design like a bull's. It had a spaded head flanked by soft barbs, and behind it, smooth ridges ran along the underside of his penis all the way to the base, where the ridges became more prominent, most likely to encourage deep penetration.

And the longer he throbbed, the harder and bigger he became. Pink quickly gave way to red. Blood vessels swelled under the heat of sexual excitement. Within less than half a minute, Temeraire grew to the size of a young human, hissing softly when his monstrous erection slapped wetly and needily against his own scaly belly.

“Quite a thing to look at, isn't it?" Nishka encased the spaded head within her cloth, smothering it with oils. “Just one last step and you and your dragon will be free."

“What?" Laurence asked, to which Nishka waved another sign in the air.

The men mobilized. An army of breeders, researches, and doctors started poking, prodding, and sticking their hands in places Laurence never ever thought of touching with his own hands. Two of them crawled around the vent, scooping up translucent lubrication into their test kits. Another had a measuring reel he used on the ridges, writing careful observations in his little notebook.

But Nishka had other plans than just stand idle. Three of the brown dragons brought over a large cylindric object that even Laurence could identify as a semen collection device. With only hand gestures alone, Nishka had her dragons fit the sleeve over the first quarter of Temeraire's erection.

He didn't want it. Not at first. As much as he flapped his wings, growled, and snarled his objections at his brethren, even Temeraire was not beyond the primordial pull of his instincts. Once the soft lining of the device swallowed his tip with a wet plop, the onyx dragon took hold of the device with his own forepaws, then thrust, eager to sink more than just the tip of his eager, rock-hard cock into the semblance of a female's soft insides.

“His tip. We only want his tip!" Nishka barked at the two brown dragons that tried to wrestle the device from Temeraire's desperate grip.

“He's holding far too tight." They growled.

“Damn it!" Nishka cursed. “Nazgor, go for his throat."

Laurence paled when his dragon's suave moans turned into a sharp, heart-wrenching yowl of pain. Strong, burly hands grabbed onto him before he could make any move on the dragon, holding him like a prisoner watching his comrades face torture for their country.

“Nooo! Let me go. Let me go, you bastards!"

“That's just a restraining bite. No danger." Ashford's voice came from behind. “Think, Laurence." Ashford slapped him, the hit only serving to annoy him further.

“I'll get free, and then I'll-“

“Remember the fights. The real fights, blazes take you." Another harder slap made his cheek burn cherry hot. “You only believe he's in danger because you need someone to vilify, as that is the only way this makes sense."

The commander's words went on deaf ears. There was a war inside Laurence. A fight that only left him when the brown dragon let go of his Temeraire. Right when that happened, a louder growl unlike any other erupted from Temeraire's throat, who shivered and snarled as his member spasmed with the sharp, definitory pulses of ejaculation. Laurence's jaw effectively dropped when he saw his dragon's humongous cock slide out of the collection device to splatter the remainders of its translucent goo over Temeraire's heaving chest, where the doctors were hard at work collecting the precious samples.

“Good work, everyone." Nishak had one of the brown dragons lick the sweat off her brow. “Ozruk, Felaris. Feel free to clean the rest up. You've earned as much."

The two males immediately started lapping up Temeraire's semen with their forked tongues, often bumping into each other as they fought over their prize. Laurence had no idea what was so special about that fluid. Nothing could explain the clattering in their jaws, or worse, the hardening of their members. Even fully unsheathed, the two erratic males paid no mind to their erections, lapping up the lubrication like starved dogs until the only source of it remained on Temeraire's cock.

“Not there." Nishka stopped them with a raised hand. “Go and relieve yourselves of your urges if you need to. I need only one of you for the last step."

As the dragons left with their malehoods hanging loose and dripping pre-seed on the ground, Laurence became even more enraged at this act of perversion.

“Wasn't that enough?" he pointed a finger at the one responsible for it all. Nishka.

“For the first two steps, yes. Quite enough."

“What else? What else is there to do? You have collected all that you wanted."

“Is that so? In what world does this look like semen to you?" Nishka upturned the collection device, allowing thick strands of clear fluid to pour down upon Temeraire's twitching cock. “What we achieved here are only the preliminary tests for the main procedure. Claes, ready the harness. The quicker we're done, the faster we'll get our captain here reunited with his intended."

Like before, and the countless times before that, Laurence found himself thrown to the side, watching how the four dragons carried the harness on top of Temeraire's back. Each of them took a side, linking together the sturdiest metal links, while below, the researches took care of the finer detail.

All while Laurence stood there like a statue, silent and unmoving, cold to any emotion but resentment towards this group of men who treated his dearest, a rare and beautiful Celestial, like any other beast of burden. Maybe even worse. After the main straps had been tied, the doctors started bringing out their weird devices. First came a set of three metal rings that Nishka clasped around Temeraire's unsheathed erection. The largest secured his base, coming between two prominent ridges that flared at the contact with the cold steel. Two others came afterwards. One to hold the brunt of his cock by the middle, and the last to squeeze him just behind his spaded glans.

“Hold on. Pause for a moment." Laurence spoke over Temeraire's hisses. “How is that any useful for your little research project?"

“They're not for us, but for him." Nishka shot him a quick glance while she worked on adjusting the smallest ring. “The rings will protect his member from a rough meeting with the ground during the journey."

“What journey?" Laurence frowned.

“Let me take care of that." Claes led Laurence back to one of the lounging bronze dragons.

“This is getting out of hand, Ashford. What else are you hiding from me?"

“Very little. The harness…let's just say it's too heavy to allow flight. We made modifications to ensure both the comfort of your dragon, as well as the package he carries."

“You mean his seed? Is that how the admiralty views him? Like a walking bag of semen?"

“Mere details." Claes brushed off that comment. “Once the device is inserted into his anal cavity, you'll be given leave to depart."

“God no! Ashford, you deceptive son of a mink!" Laurence ran back to Temeraire to find his dragon onto his side, with Nishka's entire arm buried inside his painfully well lubricated tailhole.

“Get out!" Laurence stomped his way towards her. “You take your hand out of my dragon this instant!"

A blur flew overhead, crashing down in front of him in the form of a lithe bronze dragon.

“Stand down, captain, or I'll be forced to subdue you."

“Subdue this!" Laurence threw his overcoat over the dragon's horned head, but the creature swiftly blasted it away with a wing. Next thing he knew, Laurence got swiped off the ground by a pair of clawed limbs.

“Cease struggling. You'll only get yourself hurt."

Laurence knew he had no semblance of a chance against a fully grown dragon, even one a few heads shorter than his Temeraire.

“I'm calm. Loosen those sickles before you get them all bloodied."

“Don't try anything." The dragon growled in his ears.

He left no room for interpretation or hope. He did not even stir once when his superior, Niksha, pumped her arm in and out of an orifice that was not supposed to be penetrated by anything or anyone. Nor he fell for the growls of discomfort of a fellow dragon.

Just like the others, this dragon had his own orders to follow. And that sickened Laurence just as much as the likeness of a phallus carried by the jaws of the three other dragons. Temeraire looked with fright upon the thing, tail shifting uncomfortably behind him.

“is that truly necessary, captain Nishka?" The Celestial spoke as calmly as he could under the circumstances. “I am perfectly able to spill myself in the other device you've attached to my harness."

“I know, dear." Like a poisonous serpent, she moved to not just look him in the eyes, but caress him with the same affection Laurence often displayed.

“Then why can't we just do that?"

“Because we have orders from above. Orders we all have to respect down to the letter. Now try to relax. Think of something that brings you peace. Or someone that makes you happy."

Temeraire could have chosen the sky, or a fellow dragon. Instead, his icy blue eyes drifted to Laurence, looking him in the eye even as the cold metal prodded at the entrance of his tail.

He growled.

And Laurence's heart sank inside a sea of shame and guilt once the hard tip of the metal phallus stretched his dragon's tailhole apart. He could not bear to look upon is proud partner when he was violated by that…thing. Every growl, hiss, or shudder reminded him of his inability to protect him.

I'm sorry, my dearest. You deserve better. I'm so, so sorry for putting you through this…

“it's…too big." Temeraire scratched at the ground as his anus clenched hard around the thing, trying to resist against the intrusion of a foreign object that just kept on pushing.

“Not bigger than your own proud member. Try to relax. It slides in easier when you don't think about it." Nishka motioned for the bronze dragons to continue.

“But it can't possibly fit! It…it hurts!"

“Not for much longer. Push in the first spine."

“Hraaawwwrrrrr!" Temeraire lunged forward as the first of the upwards facing protrusions sunk into his soft, exposed ass-hole. Nishka urged her dragons to keep going, and the metal cock sunk further still, each of those little crests forcing a growl out of Temeraire's restless throat.

“It's..mrraaahhh…It's pressing against…something deep." The dragon leaned his weight on his front legs as his member heaved with a potent squirt of cloudy fluid.

“Oh, we've gotten to your prostate already?" Nishka collected a sample straight from his tip and smelled it. “Rich and smooth." She waved back to her bronze dragons. “Keep on going, Felaris. We're almost there."

“What's… a prostate?" Temeraire growled between the increasingly vigorous spasms of his nethers.

“You don't know?" Nishka walked over to his snout. “It's an organ deep inside your tail that produces one of the necessary components of your semen. Well, by that, I mean it has the largest contribution, but it's also a very erogenous spot for males, if not one of the most, sexually speaking. The fuller it is, the more sensitive it becomes…and yours must be on the verge of exploding."

Temeraire moaned when her slick hand rubbed the cloudy, pheromone-laden fluid over his nostrils. Temeraire closed his eyes to take an eager breath, then shuddered all over when another spine sunk into his tail. His wings shot up at that. Claws tore into the ground for purchase.

Temeraire yowled his desperate need to the skies, his harness jingling as his member emptied itself of two more copious jets of rich fluids.

“That should do it, Felaris." Nishka said proudly as she dabbed a hand into the pool of precum.

“Shouldn't it go all the way in?"

“Not if you wish to see his precious celestial seed wasted all over the ground."

The dragon acknowledged her with a nod. He circled around Temeraire to apologize for this unfortunate act of necessity, only to be snapped and growled at.

“He'll get used to it." Nishka said to her dragon. “We're done."

She then addressed the whole crowd. “Pack up your notes, supplies, and whatever you've left behind. And Ozruk. I think it's about time you part ways with your new lover."

“He's not my lover." Laurence pushed the dragon's pestering snout away. Ozruk had been trying to apologize for succumbing to the nefarious effects of a celestial's pheromones for a while, but to Laurence, explanations no longer mattered. He stood by himself, watching his Temeraire pace from here to there while the researchers took further notes on his harness. Apparently, they needed to make sure all the implementations held for the journey ahead. Once they were satisfied, they shook hands -or rubbed snouts in the case of dragons- and departed.

“She said I must keep it inside me at all times, even when we rest, to help with the-“

“Did she say where we have to go?" Laurence cut in.

“West. But the harness is too heavy for me to fly."

“I know. They told me as much." Laurence walked over to his snout, trying hard to ignore the pole of meat trapped between the three metal rings. “Lead the way then. The quicker we're done with this, the faster we can return back to our normal lives."

As Temeraire took his first awkward steps into the unknown, Laurence thought of nothing but the wet stains left on his pants by Ozruk. A badge of shame that would remind him of this moment for the duration of this night, and all the nights to come.

End of Part 1

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