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Camesha's Dungeon By Draconicon

There were many things that made being a slave to Camesha worth it. There was the fact that she cared for him, loved him for some bizarre reason that he had yet to figure out. He loved her back, and she showed him appreciation when he showed her his love and devotion. She knew how to press his buttons while always maintaining her dominance, always making sure that he knew that she was the one in charge. Camesha held his leash, and she was VERY good at making sure that he came when she called, and did as he was told.

However, there was just one problem.

It hadn't seemed like a problem at first, and maybe it really hadn't been a problem a while back. Finrod certainly hadn't noticed anything wrong until a few days ago, and even now, the dragon wasn't sure that there was anything WRONG, exactly. It was more that it was becoming...boring.

He'd never thought that he could say anything with his lioness mistress would be boring, but the more that he'd thought about it the last few days, the more he realized that things had become stale. The humiliations that she put him through barely made him blush anymore, and it was like the thrill had gone out of being the submissive one with her, like she was starting to lose her touch with him. The feeling of the thrill disappearing and boredom settling in its place was not an appealing one, and Finrod couldn't help but wonder what had happened.

After spending a few days thinking about it, he realized that he had to talk to Camesha about it, and bring it up with her, while there was still a chance to make things interesting again. Of course, he didn't know how she was going to take it, hearing that she was getting boring, that he wasn't enjoying himself anymore...but he figured that she deserved to know.

It was a Wednesday when he decided to break the news to her. Everything that he could do to make sure that she wouldn't lose it when he told her the truth had been done; he'd made her an excellent meal for when she got back from her errands outside of the house, made sure that she'd gotten a good blowjob under the table while she ate, and even had made sure to wear the maid outfit that she enjoyed seeing him in. By the time that she was done eating, he could tell that Camesha was in a good mood, and likely in the mood for more fun as well. It was as good a time as any to tell her.

Sliding out from under the table and sitting down across from her, the dragon picked up a napkin and dabbed some of her cum off of his face, the little bits that had escaped his mouth before he'd swallowed the rest of her load. It wasn't much, but it was something that he figured was better on the napkin than in his mouth.

The gesture did not go unnoticed, and Camesha's smile slipped, her mouth taking on a carefully neutral expression. "I would have thought that you'd swallow that, Finrod. What's on your mind?"

"Well..." He paused, then sighed. "May I speak freely?"

Her eyebrow went up. "Freely?"

He nodded. It was something that he usually did anyway, but there had been a few occasions in the past when he had actually gotten frustrated or angry with her, and he'd needed to ask to speak freely, outside of their relationship as mistress and slave, as a way to keep it from being contaminated by his 'insubordination'. This was just like that, he felt, and he didn't want to damage that part of their relationship while it was still salvageable.

"Well, I suppose you may," Camesha said, laying her hands on the table. She fixed him with an attentive stare, and waited.

Taking a deep breath, Finrod explained. "Camesha, I...I think that we need to do something about the mistress and slave stuff."

She started to open her mouth, but he stopped her with a raised hand. Her eyes went wide, but he ignored that. "Let me finish." He lowered his hand, and continued. "I think that we need to do something more. You're kind of getting...boring."

"....Boring?"

"Yeah...boring." He gulped a bit. "I don't want to insult you, but we keep doing the same things. It's like you're getting soft on me, and it's just not fun for me anymore. I mean, it's not bad either -"

"Considering how hard I feel you get in your panties still, I'd say not."

"-but it's not the same as it used to be. I mean, I used to wake up, and my first thought would be, 'What can I do to make mistress happy today?'" He shook his head. "Now, it's more concerned with me. I still love you, but it's like..."

"Like the leash is getting too loose, and you are starting to get more independent."

He nodded. "Something like that, yeah."

Silence fell over the table as Finrod waited for her response. He put his hands on his legs, watching her face as she considered what he said.

It was clear that she wasn't so happy to be told that she was getting boring, but he didn't see the anger on her face that he expected. He would have thought that she'd be angry, that she'd be getting up and grabbing him by the collar and telling him what the facts of the matter were, and that he needed to remember his place. Hell, he wouldn't have been too surprised if she had grabbed him and rammed her cock back in his mouth, and then lectured him on the proper place of a slave. He'd been prepared for that, and would have gone along with it, then done something about it afterward.

But he wasn't prepared for her contemplative silence, and how she was honestly considering his views. Happy about it, yes, but surprised as well.

A few minutes passed, and he was starting to get nervous, before Camesha finally opened her mouth. "If you're bored, then I guess I have a few ideas on how to liven things up."

An eyebrow went up as his curiosity was piqued.

"Yes, yes, I do have ideas." She leaned back, her arms folded under her breasts. "You shouldn't be THAT surprised, Finrod; just because I don't do new things all the time doesn't mean that I've run out of ideas of things to do to you." She turned in her seat, standing up, and walked quietly and slowly to his side of the table. Stopping behind him, she placed her hands on his shoulders, gently squeezing them. Her whiskers poked at the side of his head as she leaned down, and he shuddered softly as her lips brushed the side of his head.

She whispered to him, her words soft, velvety, but firm. "I can make sure that you'll never be bored again, Finrod...if you trust me." She flexed her fingers, her claws lightly playing over his shoulders. Didn't hurt his scales in the least, but it was still slightly intimidating. "Do you trust me, Finrod? Do you trust me to make things interesting again?"

"Of course I do, I just -"

"Ah ah." She chuckled, a near-purr sliding from her throat, her fingers tightening further on his shoulders, just enough to make him grunt. "I just need a yes, or a no, Finrod." Her lips brushed his ear with each syllable she muttered. "Do...you...trust me?"

Despite himself, a little shiver of arousal went through his body. His fingers curled, his own claws digging into his legs slightly. She was playing him like a harp, but that's what he wanted.

Slowly, he nodded. "Yes...I trust you."

"Good." She patted his back, suddenly back on her side of the table. "Then you'll do what I say right now, and tomorrow morning, we'll begin re-training you."

"Re-"

"No questions." She shook her head. "I have been a little too lenient with you, I think; at least it's not too late to correct that.

"You're going to go to the bathroom. In the medicine cabinet, there are several unmarked bottles, a green one, a red one, and a blue one. You're going to go and take one pill from the blue one, and one from the green one, and take them at the same time. One of them is a sedative, and will knock you out before long. You will get to bed before that happens." She lifted her glass, taking a sip of her wine before looking over the rim at him. "Do you understand?"

He wasn't sure that he did, in all honesty, but he nodded his head again, slowly stepping up from his chair. "I understand, Ca-"

"You understand...what?" The gaze over the glass turned steely, firm as her words.

"Uh, Mistress. I understand, Mistress," Finrod said hurriedly, turning around and walking away, down the hall.

The bathroom was right around the corner of the hallway, and he didn't have any trouble finding the bottles that she mentioned. Green and blue, she'd said, and he pulled them down, popping the lids and taking a single pill out of each one. Out of curiosity, he examined them, wondering if there was some clue as to what kind of pills they were.

However, neither of them were marked like anything that he had taken in his life. One was a blue pill about two centimeters long, but rather thin, marked with either a three or an E on it; the other was a green gel capsule, filled near to bursting with some sort of liquid inside of it. Neither had any clue what they would do, and for a moment, Finrod hesitated. Camesha had never included medication or drugs in their play before, and he was unsure why she would include them now.

But...he did say that he trusted her. If he didn't trust her now, then why was he bothering trying to get them to continue their play as mistress and slave?

Shaking his head with a sigh, he filled up the small cup of water that lay next to the sink, and popped the pills down his throat, rapidly swallowing them with the aid of the water. It went down easily enough for the size of the pills, but he took a couple extra drinks of water just to be safe.

Surprisingly, he felt the sedative effects almost immediately, having to lean against the wall as he started walking out. "What...what the hell?" he muttered under his breath. What was that stuff, liquid chloroform or something? It was certainly hitting him faster than anything he'd ever taken before as a sleep aid. As it was, he wasn't sure that he would be able to get to the bed in time.

He had to slide against the wall, his shoulder almost glued to it as he made his way out of the bathroom and down the hall. He grunted and groaned with each step, the world starting to spin around him as he moved. The hallways flowed back and forth, and the door to the bedroom spun like a fun house exit, like a barrel rolling slowly down a hill.

The dragon made it to the door before he collapsed, falling on his side as the door opened, half in and half out of the bedroom. It didn't hurt, oddly; there was no feeling of impact from hitting the floor, and he barely felt the pressure of his body against the floor. His head swam, and he barely had the energy to roll onto his back.

As his eyes closed and sleep overwhelmed him, he wondered, just what was going on?

SMACK!

"OW!" Finrod shouted as something blunt hit his ass, hard. "I'm awake, I'm awake!"

"Then open your eyes, slave."

Finrod groaned softly, following the lioness's command, his eyelids creaking upwards much like a drawbridge would, on a slow chain and just as reluctantly.

However, after they were open, he woke up the rest of the way very quickly. Camesha stood in front of him in a leather corset, her breasts on display, and with nothing on below the waist, allowing her hard, throbbing cock to be on display. She held a large paddle in one hand, and tapped it against her other hand rhythmically. She looked at him with a smirk as he took in her new look. "Good to see that the sedative finally wore off," she said. "Gave me plenty of time to get you out here and set up, though."

"Out...here? Set up?" he asked.

The paddle lashed out, not quite slapping his cheek, but definitely giving it more than a light pat. She spun it, using it to lift up his chin. "No questions, slave," Mistress said. And it was Mistress, not Camesha; the tone of voice was different, more commanding to Finrod's ears. "You are in Mistress Camesha's dungeon, and you'll stay here until you're trained to be a proper, grateful slave."

Trained...to be a...

Finrod's eyes flicked back and forth, taking in his surroundings. For the first time, he realized that he wasn't in Camesha's bedroom, nor was he on the couch in her apartment. He wasn't even in the familiar yet foreign small hotel room that he'd sometimes woken up in after a really bad day.

Instead, it was...well, a dungeon, just as Camesha had said. To his right was a rack, where one could be laid out spread eagle. A hole was cut into the back of it; two holes, one along the upper back - presumably for the wings - and another further down, where...Oh, that was going to be painful, he thought to himself.

He flicked his eyes to the other side of the room, his eyes going wide at the sight of the tools laid out on a small side table. There were many things that belonged in an S&M dungeon, from floggers to electrical pokers to more paddles, some of them with holes in them to allow for greater striking speed. The dragon shuddered at the thought of some of those coming down on him, knowing that he'd feel them even through his scales; they weren't protection enough to ignore something like that.

As his eyes flicked back to Camesha, he realized something else. His arms responded to his movements, but they couldn't pull away from their positions besides his head. The same with his legs; he could feel them, could try to move them, but something kept them from being able to move as well.

"Are you finally noticing your restraints, slave?" Mistress asked. "I knew you were asleep when I put you in them, but I thought that you would have noticed that you were restrained by now."

She lowered the paddle from his chin, and with the extra freedom of movement, he turned his head, looking back.

His wrists were held in a set of stocks, a wooden prison that held his head and wrists about level with each other, and prevented him from reaching around to touch anything. A few tugs against the wooden block proved that it was too sturdy for him to break free of, though he hadn't thought that Camesha would have put him in anything weak; she knew how strong he was when he really wanted to struggle.

Shifting his weight around, tugging on his other limbs, confirmed that the bondage reached all the way around him. His legs were restrained at the ankles, and his tail was held over his back. Probably was attached to the top of the stocks, keeping him from pulling it down to cover his ass or defend himself from behind, the dragon thought to himself. It would make sense. His feet were kept in place, both tied down to the ground by leather over the top of his feet, and the chains that were attached to his ankles, so he couldn't move his feet forward and back, or side to side; he was completely restrained, completely helpless.

Shaking his head in disbelief, Finrod brought his gaze back to his mistress. "Why...why are you doing this?" he asked.

Her eyes narrowed, and he gulped, hurriedly continuing. "No disrespect, Mistress; I just wish to know what I have done."

"It's obvious, I would have thought. You have no clue?"

He shook his head.

"I suppose that you really do need this training if you are this oblivious." She sighed, the paddle tapping against her palm as she started walking around him. "It's very simple, Slave. There are certain things that a mistress will not tolerate. Disobedience is the most common thing that we won't tolerate, as I'm sure you know. But complaints about how we treat out slaves is another one. A mistress may critique another mistress, but a slave my not critique his mistress. That is a hard and fast rule that I was surprise that you were foolish enough to break."

"But I asked - "

SMACK!

The paddle came down hard on his ass as the lioness stepped behind him, resting against his scaled backside for a few seconds before she pulled it back. "You will not talk, Slave, not while Mistress is talking," she said. "Am I clear?"

Hurriedly nodding, Finrod stifled his whimper. That spank had been tremendously hard, more than the play that he had felt from her before. This was serious.

Wood dragged against his ass as she continued walking around him, the thin side of the paddle rubbing slowly along his burning rear. "A new suggestion for fun is always welcomed; it means that we can enjoy ourselves more, and I can learn a little more about your limits, Slave. However, when you complain, when you talk about how this is not 'fun' for you anymore, then it is clear that you need to be taught a lesson.

"That is what's happening now." CRACK went the paddle, coming down hard on the back of his thigh, making the dragon whimper. "You're going to be punished for your disrespect, and your rudeness. Until I am done with you, you will accept your punishment without complaint, without whining."

He nodded his head again, though this time it was a bit less frantic than the last time. His leg stung from the smack, and he could already feel it burning a little bit from the impact. That in and of itself was a little bit strange; his scales were usually better at taking an impact than that. Admittedly, Camesha was stronger than the average lioness, partially because of the fact that she was a herm and had extra testosterone than most of her species, but still, she'd never been able to get a burn like that going in just one strike.

Was it something to do with the pills that he'd taken?

Before he could pursue that thought, the paddle pressed between his legs, pressing lightly against his cock. His eyes widened, and he stiffened, holding himself completely still as Camesha dragged the paddle up and down his shaft.

Scary as it was to have that paddle so close to his sensitive parts, he couldn't deny that there was some small bit of pleasure from having it there. It didn't make sense, but it was there, all the same.

"Looks like you're starting to get a little bit hard down here, Slave," Mistress said as she dragged the paddle along his engorging length. She put just enough pressure on it for it to be sandwiched between the paddle and his stomach, and with that pressure, he could feel his blood pulsing through it, pushing into it and making it harder, and harder, throbbing more and more with each passing second.

She encouraged that, stroking him with the paddle, the smooth wooden surface of the pain-inflicting tool giving him just enough pleasure to moan. It didn't make sense; the paddle was something that should be giving pain, discipline, punishment, not pleasure. Yet, for all that, he was still getting hard, still getting erect at the slight touches from the wooden thing. It did not take long at all for him to get a full erection, and it was hard enough to stay up and hard, even as the lioness pulled the paddle away.

The sight of her cock made him jump as she walked back around the stocks, brushing the tip of it against his cheek. Warm, slick pre rubbed against his cheek, and he could just see the shimmering line that it left on his scales as she pulled away. What little light there was in the dungeon reflected off of it, shining a little into his eyes, and the musky smell from it filled his nose, reminding him of his situation, and somehow making his cock feel that much harder.

Stopping in front of him, she swayed her hips lightly, each little sway slapping his face with her cock. Never hard, but definitely enough to leave a feeling of impact on his cheek each time. "Heh, by now I'm sure that you can feel the effects of that other pill," Mistress said.

He looked up at her, puzzled, and she chuckled, slapping his cheek again with her cock. "You know what I'm talking about. The pills that you took back home, Slave; there was a green one, and a blue one. The blue one was the sedative for you, and was what kept you knocked out for that long. The other one is the one that's making you so sensitive, so excited, so eager for everything here." Mistress paused, then shrugged. "Well, at least it's making your body ready, and that's really all I need for the moment."

That explained it, Finrod realized. If she'd made him take an aphrodisiac or something like that, it would explain all of his body's responses. And it would make it that much harder for him to rationalize not wanting what she was doing to him, no matter what it might be.

Smack, smack, smack went her cock against his face. Each hit left behind its own little dab of pre, slowly marking his face with her excitement, gradually covering him with the scent of her arousal. Before long, he couldn't so much as take a breath without either tasting or smelling her pre, and it was having one hell of an effect on him. His body burned with growing need, and it took all of his self control to keep his tongue in his mouth, to keep from sticking it out and offer its services to his Mistress, to get her off with his mouth so that he could have more of her musky cum.

She chuckled as he whimpered, pressing her cock tip against his lips for almost half a minute before pulling back, leaving his lips stained with her pre, making it shine like some clear, strange lipstick. Finrod shivered at the comparison, his cock bouncing underneath his stomach in excitement.

"Looks like your body is just about as excited as it's going to get without me doing more," Mistress said with a small nod of her head. "Now, it's time to give you the punishment that you earned; time to teach you a lesson about respecting your betters."

The paddle went flying over her shoulder as she threw it away, clattering on the floor, forgotten. The lioness turned towards the tray, her eyes flicking between the different tools on top of it, and Finrod couldn't help but look over at it himself, his curiosity morbid, and his body oddly excited at the prospect of being punished.

Immediately he noticed that she was ignoring the different dildos and toys that were on top of the tray, instead looking more favorably at the paddles, electric wands, and whips that made up the other side of the tray. The thought of those slapping over his body should have disturbed him, made him wince...but it didn't. Finrod fought that thought, finding that he at least didn't look forward to it as much as he looked forward to the thought of something in his ass, but it was still strange to him. His body shouldn't...usually wouldn't...crave punishment like this.

Hand stretched out, Mistress wiggled her fingers as she moved her hand from side to side, her lips moving slightly as she considered the various tools that she had at her disposal. Now and then, Finrod whimpered, mostly when she seemed to consider the electric wands, not sure if he could take that. The electrical punishments were something that he had never really endured before, and he had no idea how they would feel, but he had seen them before on some videos, and the people that were being punished with it never looked like they were enjoying themselves. Never.

Eventually, the Mistress settled on something that was half-hidden by some of the other tools. Her fingers wrapped around the exposed leather handle slowly, the smile on her face growing as though she relished the feel of the thing under her fingers, and Finrod couldn't stop himself from gulping in trepidation as she slowly pulled the item out of the pile.

His scales went a little pale at the sight of the whip in her hands. It was made of leather, with multiple ends to allow for the best possible flogging. Finrod shuddered at the thought of it coming down along his back, or anywhere else, but even as the instinct to squirm away filled him, he squashed it down again. He knew it would be futile, not to mention stupid, likely to earn him even more punishments.

The thought of trying to squirm back didn't go unnoticed, he realized, as the Mistress turned to him with a chuckle. "You're learning, Slave, you're learning." She chuckled, lightly patting her palm with the leather ends of the...he could only call it a weapon, in her hands. "Make sure that you keep learning, or you're going to be here for a very, VERY long time. Remember, you only get to leave when I think that you've learned your lesson for your disrespect and your rudeness to me."

Her steps carried her around the stocks and out of sight again. The leather rubbed against his side, and he could feel that it was rough, strong, not the softer leather that she would wear as a corset or something else. This was leather that was designed to punish, to drive home a point, not something that would feel good against the skin or scales of another person. And with her strength, and the sensitivity that he had at the moment....

He shuddered, more so as the leather rubbed along his butt cheeks, right over the spot where she'd spanked him just a little while ago. "You...you're going to..."

"Oh, and here I thought you were learning, Slave." She sighed. "A pity, that; I was going to give you a little break. But now you're just adding to your punishment."

The whip came down hard on his backside, and the dragon lurched forward in the stocks, shuddering at the feeling of the thick, almost sharp pieces of leather lashing him hard. They not only hit him, but dragged along his scales, pulling the burning sensation of the impact along with them, as if it was a lotion to be rubbed into his scales by the leather. The crack of the impact filled his ears, muffling the little whimper that slipped past his lips despite all of his efforts to hold it in.

Sna-CRACK! Sna-CRACK!

Two more whippings, one across his ass, the other across his back, one following immediately after the other as the Mistress swung the whip around expertly, slapping the leather ends along his scales and then dragging them along for a few inches before pulling the whip back. The ends of the whip brought fire in its wake, and not a fire that he was familiar with. His back burned from the sharp impacts, and his ass trembled at the growing fire along his scales.

The snapping cracks of the whip echoed through the dungeon as it came down along his body. The Mistress did not seem to have any target in mind, but rather the idea to spread it along his body as much as possible. Pain blossomed along his back, his ass, and the backs of his legs, the whip flying fast and furious. Its shadow flickered in the soft light of the dungeon, letting him see it past his stocks just before it came down again on him. Not that the warning helped him in any way; it just allowed him to anticipate the hit, not brace for it.

Again, and again, the whip came down, and he had to grit his teeth to keep himself from whimpering, crying out. However, his entire body started to shake, and only his bondage allowed him to stay upright. If he was allowed any slack, he would have slumped down, fallen to the ground. His hands were curled into fists, the points of his claws digging into his palms, giving him something else to focus on, something else besides the lines of fire slashing across his scales with every move of the Mistress.

For perhaps a minute, he thought that he was starting to get used to the pain, used to the feeling of fire running over him. It stung, but it was getting to be somewhat bearable.

But then Mistress surprised him. The whip came, not from above, but from below. The whip lashed across his chest, slapping and whipping his stomach with the thick material, battering away at a spot that was not used to it. His stomach tensed as the whip curled around, slapping against it, some part of the whip managing to get all the way to his nipples in that strike before she pulled it back.

Unable to hold back at the burning that came with it, Finrod let out a little whimper. It was soft, but the crack of the whip didn't muffle it. He knew that it was a mistake as soon as he let it out, but there was no way for him to pull it back in now.

"Did I hear something, Slave?" the Mistress asked. "I think that I heard something. Did I hear something?"

Finrod was so tempted to just lie, to say that she hadn't heard anything. But...but that would be what a bad slave would do. A bad slave tried to avoid punishment and discipline by lying and sneaking around it. A good slave actually admitted their flaws, and would work to get better with their mistress. And he was supposed to be a good slave, or at least be learning to be a good slave.

He lowered his head, shuddering lightly as he nodded. "I...I did make a sound, Mistress," Finrod admitted. "I...I whimpered...from that last whipping."

"I see." He heard her tug on the whip, stretching the leather a little bit before letting go. The sound of the leather slapping against her palm underlined her words as she spoke. "And what did I tell you at the start?"

"You...you said, no whining, no complaining, Mistress."

"That's right, Slave." She pressed the leather against one of the hotter spots of his ass, and he hissed at the pressure on the sensitive spot. "And you just made another sound. Tsk tsk tsk, you really must be a glutton for a punishment like this," Mistress said.

Sna-CRACK! The whip came down again, and Finrod had to snap his jaws shut to hold in the whimper. The various 'tails' of leather at the end of the whip lashed over the hot spot, and added fuel to the burning under his scales. He blinked rapidly, clearing away any sign of pain there.

"Tell me, Slave; do you think that you've learned a lesson from all of this?"

He nodded his head, almost hurting his neck in his hurry to answer. "Yes, Mistress, yes, I have."

"And what lesson is that?"

What lesson? That was new. Finrod blinked as he tried to come up with something to say, some answer. The Mistress had never asked him to explain the lesson he'd learned before; there would either be no lesson, or she would explain it to him herself at the end of the session. It was another strange thing here, something else that was new, different.

His hesitation was not the answer, apparently, as the Mistress sighed. "Well, it looks like you haven't learned your lesson just yet. I suppose that we'll just have to continue until you do."

Any protest that he might have had died in his throat as the whip began to crack again. Sna-CRACK, sna-CRACK, went the whip, snapping the air a few times before it began to flay him again, flogging him with the powerful blows that the lioness rained down on him. Blunt and burning, they fell over his back, and rose under him to hit his underbelly. Several times, the whip somehow managed to get between his legs, never high enough up to get at his balls and cock, but more than enough to get at his thighs.

Those blows, the ones along his thighs, were the most painful. The leather strips at the end of the flogger were long enough to wrap around his legs a little bit, and it felt almost like the burning of a jelly-fish sting for a second or two before they pulled back. The burning remained behind as the whip pulled back, and his jaws began to hurt as he held back all the shouts, screams, yelps, and whimpers that wanted to escape.

Random as the blows were, the Mistress delivered them with a ferocity and grace that was shocking to feel. Finrod couldn't see her, but the shadow of the Mistress loomed over him on the floor, and he thought she looked like a great warlord, a warrior fitting her species. It was...magnificent in one way, and utterly fearsome in another.

She suddenly twisted, and the whip cracked against his side, reaching along his ribs almost to his armpit. The blow made him shout at the unexpected location, a yelp that escaped him before he clapped his jaws together again. He clenched his eyes shut, shaking his head lightly to try and force himself to focus again, to hold in any more sounds.

But it was too late. The Mistress had heard him, had seen that he reacted to that spot, and it became her favorite new spot to work on. The flogging continued, one side, then the other, running along the sides of his ribs, occasionally coming down directly on his armpit. The blows to his pits didn't leave behind as much fire, but the blow itself more than made up for that. His mouth hurt almost as much as the rest of his body from the force that he exerted on his jaws to keep them closed at that point, and even with that, a few little whimpers still managed to slip out when she worked on his sides, when she brought the pain to his pits and arms.

He couldn't keep his eyes open, not even a slit; he tensed everywhere, his muscles stiffening as he held himself as rigid as possible. It wasn't to stave off the pain, but to keep himself from making a sound, to keep himself from letting anything slide from his mouth. The order was to keep quiet, and he was going to do that, no matter how much pain the Mistress rained down on him. If he could do that, then he was a good slave. If he could hold back the whimpers, if he could silence his yelps through the burning flogging, then he was a good slave.

He would be a good slave.

He would be a good slave.

He would be a good slave.

The phrase became a mantra, a repeating sentence that filled his mind and fought against the pain. It did not drive it out, but it allowed him a way to focus through it. A way that he might make it to the end of the task without breaking the Mistress's orders.

He wasn't sure how long it lasted. All he knew was that he was covered with the burning, throbbing sensations of being flogged, and the next, he had a soft, furred hand lifting his chin up.

Finrod opened his eyes, seeing the face of his Mistress right in front of him, looking at him with a little smile on her face. "It looks like you suddenly found a way to keep quiet, Slave." She smiled, stepping back, her erection throbbing in front of her as her tail twitched behind her. She tapped the flog against her palm again, the soft thwack-thwack of the leather hitting her hand a slightly more gentle undercurrent to her words than the violent cracks from before. "Now, have you learned your lesson for true this time?"

He nodded.

"Then what is it?"

"It's...to be obedient...to put the mistress's commands above all else...no matter how hard it is for this slave," Finrod whispered, his breath coming in ragged bursts as the pain pushed at his self control. "The lesson...is to do what the Mistress says...to be an obedient...good slave...no matter how hard it is."

The leather-clad lioness smiled a little wider, nodding her head. "Yes, you've got it right, Slave," she said. She threw the flog over her shoulder, letting it land somewhere off in the shadows. Probably near the paddle. "You have learned that very well. I was hoping that you would learn it a little sooner, of course, but then again, some slaves are slow learners. I suppose I should be happy that you learned your lesson at all."

He didn't respond to that, merely lowering his head. She would have another order before long, he was sure, or failing that, another lesson. He wanted to be ready for it; after having to take the whipping, the flogging for as long as he did, he wanted to make sure that the next one didn't last as long. After that, he honestly wasn't sure that he could take a prolonged punishment again.

Her footsteps were soft, but just audible as she stepped up to him again. Her cock rubbed against the side of his face, leaving yet another line of her pre along his cheeks. "But you still took a very long time to learn all this lesson. Much as I'm glad that you learned the lesson, you made Mistress rather tired, having to deliver all of those blows, giving you so much discipline as I did. So, as punishment, I'm going to have to fuck your ass."

That was a punishment? Finrod thought that was something more resembling a reward, considering how much of the aphrodisiac was still in his system. Despite the pain that he felt from the flogging, his cock was still hard against his belly, dripping down to the floor below. It had been easy to ignore while the Mistress was punishing him, but now his libido was begging for a different kind of attention.

Mistress chuckled at him as he looked up at her. "Do you really think that this is a reward, Slave? Do you remember the pain in your ass cheeks from the flogging AND the spanking earlier?" she asked.

The reminder brought the pain back there surging forward. He gasped as it slipped under his defenses, and whimpered a bit. The thought of something going INTO his was very pleasant, but the thought of a person's crotch slapping against his ass cheeks - which would happen if a person was fucking him, no matter who it was - made him whimper in anticipation of the pain. It would hurt all the way through, though with the chemicals in him, doubtless he would still find a way to cum from it. Even the current level of pain was hard to reconcile with the erection between his legs; cumming as something rubbed against his ass, making the burning and bruised areas that much more sensitive, would be far harder to rationalize.

Stopping him from speaking with a slap of her cock across his lips, the Mistress looked down at him. "Now, you did learn your lesson, so I'll give you a little mercy, Slave. You will have the opportunity to get me slick with your spit before I ram my cock up your ass. You have no choice of whether it goes up your ass, but I'll give you the chance to make the entrance a little easier." She slapped his cheek with his cock before presenting it in front of his face. "Make your choice, Slave. Mistress doesn't want to be kept waiting."

"Please...please, don't fuck my ass," he whimpered. He looked up at her pleadingly, his eyes going cross-eyed for a second with her cock in his face before he looked past it. "Just...use a toy, or your hand, or something; please, please don't fuck me....I don't think I can take it, mistress...please...just let me...."

He stopped as the slight hints of disappointment started to form in her eyes, and he looked back to her cock. The lesson he'd just learned...that he needed to serve the Mistress with all of his ability...to learn how to be a good slave no matter how hard it was...to take what was given to him, and give the Mistress what she wanted...most of all, to be obedient. He had just learned the lesson, and now he was forgetting it?

He was a good slave. Now he had to act like it.

Finrod lowered his head again, looking at the floor. "Slave will take it dry," he muttered softly. "After complaining, Slave must be punished properly."

The lioness nodded her head, patting his head lightly. "I'm glad that you see it the same way that I do, Slave," she said as she walked around him. She dragged her hand along his side, her claws occasionally grinding against his scales, making him flinch for a moment before he got control of himself.

As she put her hands on his hips, Finrod took a deep breath. This was going to hurt; there was no doubt in his mind that this was going to hurt. He didn't want it, not now; if there was any choice in the matter, he would have asked to wait, to allow him a chance to heal, to get better. But this was a lesson that he needed to learn; Mistress had needs, and he needed to be available for it no matter how he felt at the time.

Her claws dug into his scales for additional grip, and he winced as he felt her cock pressing between his ass cheeks. There was that massive amount of pre leaking out of her - to the point where he wondered if she had been taking the aphrodisiac as well - but that was only going to slightly cushion the feeling of her sliding into his ass, and then only over time.

It slid along his ass cheeks, sliding between them. Gradually it slid up the valley between the cheeks, moving closer and closer to his eager hole. It found it before long, and the lioness shifted her stance. The head of her cock rubbed against his hole, getting angled for it just right...and then rammed in.

The only mercy to the sudden thrust was that all the pain of entry was over at once, rather than being stretched out over the time that it took for it to get in normally. As it was, it still brought a high pitched yelp from between his clenched teeth, whistling through the dungeon as his eyes bugged wide. Her cock...it felt so much bigger when it wasn't slick, when his ass wasn't ready for the darn thing. It made him want to shout, want to mutter under his breath, but he kept his other complaints unvoiced.

Besides, all the pain from her cock's sudden dry entrance into his ass were blurred out as she pulled back a bit, then shoved the rest of the way in, her fuzzy crotch rubbing against his rear.

He had no idea that fur, no matter how soft, could hurt so much against a spanked and flogged ass. His eyes were as wide as they could possibly get, and Finrod wasn't sure how much tighter he could clamp his jaws together before the bones cracked. It was like wires rubbing against his rear, a wire scrub brush grinding and scraping against his scales. He whimpered to himself, yet still found himself pushing back against her, much as his bonds would allow him; the drug in his system kept him massively excited, no matter how much he tried to fight against the artificial eagerness.

The Mistress patted his back lightly, and he barely suppressed a wince at the touch to his bruised body. "That's it slave...just accept your place...accept your Mistress's cock like a good slave, and you'll find it that much easier, that much more enjoyable."

That was all the rest he got, as the Mistress started to pull back out of his ass. Her cock, already starting to get slicker from leaking so much pre, and being covered by it in the tight confines of his ass, slid out a little easier than it went in. She thrust forward, and it was a little easier still. Back, and forth, back and forth, each one a little easier than the last, a little smoother than the one that came before it, a mix of the pre leaking out of her cock getting soaked into her shaft, with the loosening of his hole another part of that.

But as pleasant as her thrusting into his ass was, as good as the feeling of her cock rubbing over his prostate felt, that damn slapping of her crotch against his continued to make him whimper. It was like being spanked by that wire brush, savaging his sensitive ass scales. He whimpered, unable to stop the sound from leaving him, but the Mistress didn't seem to care about that now; either she understood, or she wanted to get her pleasure before punishing him for making a sound while she fucked him.

It kept going, in and out, in and out, slamming in and grinding. Finrod whimpered, his head lowered, even as his cock throbbed against his stomach. He could feel the pre leaking out of his cock, spurting against his stomach before leaking down, dripping into the puddle forming on the floor. The dragon's body was so confused; turned on, yet in pain, wanting more yet wanting it to stop at the same time.

She gripped him tightly with her claws, and if he had been unbound, he had little doubt that she would be dragging him back and forth along her cock, almost like a fleshlight. As it was, she was pulling herself forward and back, as if he was a stationary little toy for her breeding pleasure. He shuddered, moans drawn out of his mouth alongside his whimpers, pain and pleasure blurring at the edge of his fading awareness, the burning of his ass mixing with the pleasurable heat building in his prostate, pushing him towards his orgasm yet chaining him back from it at the same time.

Suddenly she sped up, and it was like the spanking got worse. He growled, whether in pain or pleasure he no longer knew, and took her cock up to the hilt with every thrust, taking whatever she wanted to give to him. Whimpers, moans, growls; they fell from his lips with no effort on his part to hold them back anymore. By now, he wanted nothing more than for this to end; whether it was for the pain to stop, or the pleasure to climax, he didn't know, but he wanted it to end.

A new heat filled his ass as she hilted herself in him again, filling his ass with her seed. He groaned, slumping forward as his own body finally gave up the ghost. His cock throbbed, emptying his load on the floor and on his stomach, as he slid slowly into unconsciousness.

Finrod moaned softly as he woke up, the feeling of a soft hand stroking him the source of his pleasure. He grunted, his hips twitching lightly as his eyelids flickered open.

He looked down, seeing a tawny, soft paw on his cock. Tracing their way up the arm attached to it, he eventually found himself looking up at Camesha...at Mistress. She smiled at him, leaning in and giving him a little kiss on the cheek. "Looks like you learned your lesson in the dungeon very well. So, I thought I would give you a little reward. A little handjob, since you only got to get off down there with pain, instead of the pleasure that you usually get."

A small smile crossed the dragon's face, and he kissed her back, then leaned back on the bed. Any thought that it might have been a dream, despite what his Mistress said, was wiped away by the slight bruises that he still felt despite laying down in bed. At least the pleasure from having her hand on his cock was enough to get him to ignore them for the moment; she was kind, most of the time.

As he moaned, his eyes closed to enjoy the rapidly speeding up handjob, Finrod thought back to the 'rape' at the end of the dungeon. It was something that he hadn't expected, but it had been extremely sexy in its own right. He hadn't WANTED the pain part of it, but it was something he'd try again. It was new, different; he wanted to explore it sometime, if Camesha was open to the idea.

She must have been stroking him for a while before he woke up, because it didn't take him long to reach his orgasm. A few thrusts into her hand, and he came, spurting his load all over her fingers with a satisfied moan, slowly lowering himself back down on the bed afterward. He smiled contentedly -

-then grunted as Camesha put her hand against his mouth, pushing a bit of his cum against his tongue before he realized what she was doing. He looked up at her in confusion, and she chuckled. "What, do you expect me to clean it up myself? Lick my hand clean, slave; I don't need your cum on me."

He nodded, turning his attention to her hand, slowly licking his cum off of her. It went down without trouble, and he smiled a bit as he finished licking it off. It was...good...to have things back to normal between him and her.

Though, he couldn't deny that a small part of him wanted to go back to that dungeon sometime. It was weird; he'd never really craved pain and punishment like that before, and he was still pretty sure that he could blame most of that on the aphrodisiacs that he'd had in his system at the time. After all, nobody that he knew - outside the people that were kind of considered a little nuts anyway - really liked to be hurt by their partners, not outside of spanking and mild 'punishments' anyway.

But...he couldn't lie. He was a good slave, after all, and good slaves do not lie unless their mistresses or masters tell them to. And he could not honestly say that he hadn't enjoyed some part of the dungeon.

Of course, he thought as he felt the soreness in his ass return, that didn't mean that he wanted to go back for a while. Just sometime...after he'd recovered. Maybe.

Camesha chuckled, and he looked over at her. "What?"

"Oh, just taking a guess at what you're thinking."

He smiled. "Oh, really?"

"Yes, and if you're thinking what I think you're thinking..." She leaned forward, stroking a finger down his cheek, until it rested under his chin. "If you're thinking what I think you're thinking...do you really think you have a choice about when you go back?"

He blushed. "A good slave doesn't."

"Yes, and you're a good slave."

Finrod smiled. That was all the praise he could ever want.