In the Dragon's Hoard
Once upon a time, when the world was more magical and more fantastic than today, but also wilder and more terrible, there lived a young princess in a faraway kingdom whom they called the Moon princess. It was not a very great or significant name, it was merely that the princess liked to climb to the top of the highest turret on warm summer nights and look out across the shadowy land below. People on the ground would sometime spot here if the sky was clear and the moon shone, and so they called her the moon princess.
On one of those warm summer nights, the Princess slipped out of her bed and quickly pulled on a slip and threw a shawl about her shoulder. Her parents, the king and queen, did not want her to go off to the tower alone. They had used to let her go as long as one of the guards followed her, but as she got older they grew more and more restrictive with which men she could be alone with. After she turned sixteen they had even forbidden her to be alone with the old, grey haired sergeant; so if she wanted to go to the tower not only did she need a guard to look after her, but she also needed to get a chaperon.
She had quickly learnt that whoever she asked to chaperon her would either be far too busy or too tired, or would insist on bringing along a maid, or food or warm clothes - until it was more like a royal picnic than a solitary respite. So she would sneak off, without neither guard nor chaperon. That was how the dragon snatched her away without a challenge.
The princess had been standing by the battlements, staring at the flickering lights of a distant village. The light dimmed, as if a
cloud had passed in front of the moon, and there was the deep sound of large wings, but the princess was too immersed in her reverie to notice.
Suddenly, a massive shape swooped down and large talons grabbed the princess by the shoulders and lifted her. The princess shrieked, thinking that she had been pushed off the tower, but then she saw the castle receding under her. Her screamed died //from the shock, and panicked and bewildered she looked up - to see the night-black underside of a dragon. She screamed once more. Far beneath her she could her the clangor of the alarm bells, faint through the howling of the wind and the sound of her slip flapping. When she looked down again and saw the craggy mountains in miniature, far below her, she fainted.
She woke in a strange bed, wearing neither slip nor night-gown. The sheets shimmered like gold, but were like spun cotton to the touch and the drapings around the bed was of heavy red velvet, immaculately dusted. Confused and bewildered, the princess wrapped the golden sheet about her body for modesty, and pulled the drapes aside with a hand that trembled a little.
She gasped as saw what lay before her - the dragon's treasure hoard; a huge mound of gold and gem stones and priceless works of art and craft, at least fifteen feet high in the middle, and thrice that across. A faint golden shimmer seemed to emanate from the hoard, and she could see no other light in the cave - for that was where she been brought by the dragon: into the deep mountain cave where he had his lair.
There was the hoard and the bed, and besides the bed stood a small, round table and a large, exquisitely carved wardrobe made from rose wood. On the table she found a crystal goblet filled with red wine, and a single green apple, and in the wardrobe hung a thin slip of the softest, almost insubstantial cloth. Having nothing else to wear, the princess put it on, and the way the cloth hugged and accented her still youthful curves made the princess blush furiously even though there was nobody around to see her.
The dragon was nowhere to see, and the princess could not find any exit she could reach - the room seemed more a vault than a cave, sheer black rock enclosed it on all sides, but daylight was let in from a small hatch many yards up on one side.
She struck the stone walls with her fists and kicked it, and rummaged through the hoard to find anything to help her climb up to the opening, but she found nothing. The opening was too far away, and the rock too smooth to be climbed. Exhausted, she curled up on the bed and wept in her fear and loneliness.
The day passed slowly into evening, and evening turned to night and there was the deep sound of wingstrokes - it was the dragon returning to his lair. He swooped down and landed ontop of his hoard; large, fierce talons carefully set down between countless treasures.
The princess cowered before the beast, for it was a terrifying sight. Of size he was like a winged lizard the size of a stout horse and with a tail that more than doubled its length and which was covered in sharp, jagged spikes. His head was set on a long, thick neck and was as large as a grown man's torso - his dreadful maw was filled with scores of sharp teeth and was parted now in an expression much like an evil grin. Of colour he was blood red along his chest and stomach, and his head and tail and across his back he was a red so deep it might as well have been black. His eyes were large snake-eyes, the size of ale cups, and they were glowing with the same golden glow as emanated from his hoard.
The princess backed away, but the dragon followed, cunningly herding her into a small wedge between the hoard and the wall of the cave. The princess pleaded with the beast, begged it to spare her, but the dragon's eyes shone with evil anticipation and it lowered its neck and brought its large, wedge-shaped head forward towards the princess. She could see thin wisps of smoke rising from its nostrils and its breath was hot and dry against her exposed legs and arms.
The dragon opened its maw, and the princess felt her knees fail under her. With her back against the wall she slid tracelessly down onto her rump. The beast dipped it's snout under the hem of the princess slip, and brought its head forward under it. The hot breath filled the slip and enveloped the princess from knees to shoulders. It felt like she was standing naked besides a large bonfire.
The dragon pushed her legs apart with its snout and something wet and very warm touched princess thigh, moving up towards her crotch with evil deliberation. When she realised it was the beast's flickering tongue, a shudder of revulsion went through the princess and she tried to crawled away, but she was already sitting with her back against the wall and there was no escape.
The tongue lapped slowly down along the princess' slit, and the princess gasped as realisation dawned on her. She wept and cried out, begging the dragon to give mercy and begging God for succour, but neither was granted. With evil deliberation the beast forced its warm tongue in between the princess' nether lips and up into her cave. The princess tried to push the dragons head away, and to push her legs together - but her strength availed to nothing, the dragon hardly noticed her struggling. She could only sit there helpless, sobbing in shame and with tears running down her cheeks, feeling the dragon's warm tongue slide back and forth within her with evil delight.
After long minutes the dragon pulled his tongue out of the princess' cave and pulled his head out from under her slip. Her body was covered in sweat from his hot breath, and the thin slip clung revealingly. Her crotch was uncomfortably hot, simply from the invading touch of the dragon's warm tongue. She was still crying from shame, but sobbed now in relief, believing that the dragon had sated his evil, at least for the present. It had not.
The dragon gripped her about the ankle with his maw, the rows of sharp teeth holding it firmly, and he pulled the screaming princess out from the wall like a dog would pull a bone from under a bench. Images of gruesome death flashed through the princess' mind, but the dragon let go of her foot and only a few scratches bore evidence of the deadly teeth.
The beast moved forward and stared down at the princess. She stared back up into the dragon's eyes, and the sense of power and age and deep, malicious evil that shone in those eyes wrapped itself like a claw around her heart. She froze in fear under the gaze from those eyes, and could barely even whimper frightfully when the dragon placed a fore limb heavily on her chest and with surprising carefulness hooked a talon under the neck of her slip.
The dragon brought his talon back and the slip tore with a loud ripping sound, presenting no more resistance to the dragon's claw than a cobweb would to a human's finger. The sound of tearing cloth jarred the princess awake from the paralysing fear and she shrieked loudly and when she felt the dragon's heat radiating on her naked stomach and thighs she instinctively pressed her legs together.
The dragon growled at her, a deep menacing rumble as of lead boiling hard in a pan of copper, but the princess was in the grip of hysteria and just shook her head wildly, keeping her legs pressed together, no more able to part them by conscious thought than she was able to sprout wings and fly away.
The beast moved back and used his snout to wedge in between her thighs and force her legs apart. Then he pushed his neck and chest against the floor, preventing the princess from closing her legs again. He slithered forwards, much like a snake, until his scaly neck pressed down against the princess' face and an insistent hardness, feverishly hot, pressed against her crotch.
The princess shook her head and wept, but did not manage to speak or cry out except for an almost whispered prayer, just a single word: "No." It was not granted. The dragon bucked his sleek, sinew-strong body and placed a claw on the princess' shoulder, holding her steady under him, and he pushed forward with great might, forcing his dork in between her nether lips and inside. It was as thick as a woman's fist at the tip and as long as from a grown man's fingertips to his elbows, and the princess screamed in horror and disbelief and pain as the dragon pressed it past her chastity and to the very bottom of her sheath - even then almost two-thirds of the dork was still left outside.
The princess screamed with horror, pain, shame and denial, and the dragon's eyes flickered with evil amusement and delight. He waited until the screaming faded and was replaced by pitiful weeping and deep, shamed sobs before he started to move inside her with slow, strong, deliberate thrusts of his body. The princess sobbed harder with every painful stroke of the thick phallos inside her. It was too thick, too warm and the dragon butted it hard against the end of her sheath every time he pushed back inside. Every stroke was a renewal of the shame, so slow and deliberate that the princess had much time to think about it and be shamed and feel sullied, even through the constant aching and the almost burning heat.
The beast ravaged the princess for a long time at that sadistically slow and measured pace, until she no longer could cry from lack of tears and her eyes felt dry and burning as if someone had rubbed salt and tinder into them, and her throat was too thick even to sob, and all she could do was wheeze with painful, whimpering breathes each time the dragon forced his dork back in against the bottom of her cave.
Then the dragon made a loud, deep hissing sound, and through eyes blurry and exhausted from crying the princess saw him part his maw wide, and she saw a bright blue flame burned in the back of the dragon's throat. The dragon roared mightily, and for miles around wild birds took flight and the few people who lived in those godless lands shivered and hid. The beast's presence in her cave twitched, and what felt like fire spread inside her, flooding into her depth with great force, splashing back out around the thick dork and also pressing far deeper into the princess' secrets than the dragon had managed to force his thick member.
It was the dragon's seed, coming from within him and much hotter than the feverish flesh of his dork, shooting into the princess in large spurts. It was unbearably hot, almost scalding, and the princess screamed louder and more heartbreaking that she yet had, despite her exhaustion and lungs aching from previous screams, but under the dragon's roar even the princess herself could not her the scream.
Through the pain the princess vaguely felt the dragon withdraw his massive dork, then of a sudden the pain numbed and a deep, unnatural sleep fell on the princess and she slipped gladly into the unconscious darkness.
When she woke again the next morning, she found herself back in the bed, naked under the golden sheets. For a moment she was confused, then the memories of the horrible night flooded over her and she cried out in fear. After the fear the shame rose and drowned out everything else and she buried her face in the pillow, weeping for her shame and her befoulment. Then, when the tears had stopped, she wondered, for her body did not ache and her groin did not hurt, and the scratches and bruises she had gotten from the dragons bestial treatment had all but faded. When she carefully probed with a hesitant finger, her eyes closed with the shame of it, she found that even her chastity had healed over night - it was only a little sore to the touch.
There was a fresh apple on the table, and the crystal goblet had been filled again and in the wardrobe hung a new slip; or the same, but mended without sign of the damage and stains. The princess almost despaired then, as it seemed she was caught in a never-ending nightmare, but then she remembered the songs and stories that the minstrels had performed at the castle and she found her hope again. Her father was sure to send knights out searching the land for her, and no dragon could stand against a bold and righteous knight - of that all the poets agreed.
No daring knight came to save her that day, and when night fell there was once again the sound of huge wings and the dragon returned. Once more the princess backed away in terror, and once more the dragon caught her and had his way with her and spent his burning seed inside her.
The next night was the same, and the night after that, and the one after that, and one by one the days became weeks and still no brave knight had come to save her. The princess had found a golden harp among the treasures in the dragon's hoard, and during the day she would play and sing songs of undefeatable warriors, knights without equals and of brave widow sons who gained fortunes. At night the tender tones and soft voice gave way to fearful cries as she backed away or tried to dodge the dragon and then hoarse sobs and shrieks of pain when he unerringly caught her, followed at last by deep silence of the enchanted sleep.
Then, one day towards the sixth week of her imprisonment, the princess finished playing a song and paused and turned her head up towards the opening far above. She thought she had heard cries, and a faraway din of horses and weapons. She put her hands over the strings of the harp to silence then completely and listened intently. She heard something, far in the distance, but she was not certain what. Then it faded completely.
Nervous and uncertain, the princess was about to start another song when, still in the middle of the day, there came the dreaded sound of large wings. The dragon flew in, and landed on top of his hoard as if it was night; magnificent and dreadful. The princess gasped in horror and sank to her knees, shaking her head, for in his maw the dragon carried a large iron shield. The paint was scorched and blistered, and the shield itself had been dented and along one edge partially melted, but the princess could still make out the blue stag rampant - the heraldry of Sir Lavyne, the noblest, most loved and most skillful knight in the kingdom. The poets had lied.
All hope faded in the princess' heart, and when the dragon dropped the shield with a loud, echoing clatter and started forward towards her, his eyes burning with triumph and wicked anticipation, the princess did not, like she always had, try to run away or to hide. Staring at the floor, she lifted her slip up above her waist, turned her back to the dragon and bent forwards on her knees, her naked rear raised and her salmon-coloured slit shamefully displayed and open. She wept when the dragon climbed over her back, and cried in misery while he ravaged her. It was a very long time until night and the relief of the enchanted sleep.
The days passed much as before, but the princess no longer song of knights and battles and uncommon fortune. Instead she sang sad, longing songs of spring rain and warm fireplaces. When the night fell and she heard the beating of large wings she would sob and put down the harp and kneel down with he back against the entrance. Then she would press her face against the soft furs and pull her slip up over her hips to bare her sex to the dragon, and the dragon would lumber forward to her and and climb on top of her to ravage her brutally and spend his burning seed inside her. Night would come then, and with it the enchanted sleep, and the princess would wake to another day, healed for the dragon to ravage her once more.
Time passed, day by day, week by week, year by year. So slowly that she hardly knew it the princess changed. Although she only ate a single apple a day, she did not grow gaunt or thin, but her hips widened and her breasts grew large and heavy and her backside became rounded and plump, all like they should. She never saw the sun, only the golden glow from the dragon's hoard, and her shin became pale like fine china, and her hair darkened to a colour that was almost as gold.
Then, one morning she woke to a change. Something warm was pressing softly against her breasts and her hand rested on a silken smoothness. When she opened her eyes the Princess cried out in surprise, because in the bed with her slept a naked maiden, her supple breasts touching the Princess' full ones, and the Princess' hand resting on top of the girls hip.
The princess' outcry woke the maiden and equally surprised she cried out herself, and the two women hurried out of bed on opposite sides, both of them flushing with shame because of their nakedness. There were two silken slips hanging in the wardrobe now, and the two of them dressed hurriedly to hide themselves from the other.
They spoke then, and the maiden, who was the daughter of a lowly farmer, told of how she had gone outside to sleep in a haystack and that she had dreamt the sound of huge wings in her sleep, but otherwise knew nought of how she had come here. She believed herself to be still sleeping, until the Princess told her of the Dragon and of how she herself had been snatched and carried her away from the tower and of how the dragon later had killed the knights sent to rescue her. The maid knew her then, having heard the stories of how the King's only daughter had been stolen away by a dragon, four long years hence.
The day passed quickly, now they were two. The maid told the Princess of the events in the land for the last years, and the Princess played the harp and song for the maid, and told her about the enchanted sleep and the cup of wine and the apple, both of which there was two now. But when the maid asked about the dragon, and of why he had stolen them both, the Princess looked away and would not answer.
Night came, and soon they heard the beating of the dragon's wings. Trembling and missing the notes on the harp, the princess looked to the maid for a moment and then to the floor. Her shame so much greater now that her surrender and rape would be witnessed, she stood unable to act until she heard the dragon's talons clicking towards them. She sobbed loudly and raised her slip above her hips and lay down with her rear raised in vulgar invitation to the dragon.
Horrified with the sight of the dragon and the dawning realisation of what the Princess' act meant, the maiden backed away as far as the golden chain let her. But when the black-scaled clambered over the trembling body of the princess and put a taloned fore limb over her neck and the princess cried out in fear and shame, the maidens horror turned to fire in her heart and she grabbed the harp and ran at the dragon, thinking to swing the harp like a club and drive the beast off.
The dragon merely tossed his head and struck the maiden with his snout, crushing the harp and sending her sprawling against the wall of the cave. She crumpled up on the floor, the breath knocked out of her, and could only watch in fear and shock as the dragon arched its body and pushed his dark red phallus forward against the princess' exposed sex.
The princess screamed against the fur in shame and pain when the thick, warm phallus was pressed into her cave, the dragons strength easily forced it past her once again whole chastity. She sobbed and whimpered the forceful thrust of the dragons massive member, dreading the release of his burning seed that she knew was coming. But the dragon did not spend inside her that night. He ravaged her as hard as he always did, but then he pulled out of her and climbed off her back and started slowly over towards the maiden with a look of evil anticipation in his eyes.
The maiden watched with wide, frightened eyes as the dragon lumber towards her, knowing now why he had captured her and what he intended to do with her. She screamed when he came closer, and cried out to the princess, begging for aid. But the princess did not come to the maidens rescue. She lay curled up on the floor, sobbing in shame and pain and with relief that she did not have to take the torment of the dragon's hot release. The relief she felt shamed her further, since she knew that her relief meant the young maiden would receive the torment in her place. When the panicked maiden's screams turned from horrified to pained, the princess pressed her hands tightly over her ears and wept. It was a long time before the enchanted sleep came and brought silence to the cave.
If the princess' strength had been like the moonlight, faint but undiminished until finally vanquished, the maidens was like a torch - hot and red, but soon dimmed. To begin with, after the first horrifying night, the maiden would try to fight and battle the dragon when he appeared, yelling and screaming at the princess to get up and help her. With malicious amusement, the dragon would defeat the maiden's feeble efforts night after night.
After a few nights, the maidens struggle was just a token, and shortly it had ceased completely. Soon, every night when the dragon returned to its lair it was met with the sound of soft sobbing and the sight of two naked, pearl-pale rears raised towards the ceiling in shameful invitations and display. Every night, the dragon accepted them both.