The Frost and the Flame.
The Frost and the Flame.
By The Iron Basilisk.
WARNING this contains dragons involved in a serious bit of sexual play and should not be read by minors or the excessively anally retentive!
This is my first attempt at a M/M plot, so don't be too nasty about it.
The ice dragon stared across at the pair of greens that he faced. He growled deep in his throat and sneered. 'Coward! To fight with ensorceled slaves rather than your own two claws. You shame all of dragonkind!' for indeed, the second green was the slave of the first, a collar of eldritch power encircling his neck.
'Silence snow worm!' hissed the green who held sway the other. 'I shall have my slave battle you and when you are tiered from that battle, I shall finish you! Or perhaps... I shall enslave you as this worthless creatures replacement!' he laughed. 'Kill him my slave!'
The ensorceled green sobbed as he charged the white, knowing that the white would most assuredly kill him pointlessly only to fall himself when his hated master struck after he was exhausted from the fight.
The white, however, knew what he had to do. He lunged forward and ducked under the slashing claws and snapping jaws to come breast to breast with his foe, locking his teeth on the cursed collar as he hauled the green into the air by main force, his wings snapping out for balance as he then exhaled stream of near liquid oxygen that caused the collar to rime with frost.
'No!' Shrieked the master green as his precious enslavement collar froze and then shattered like brittle glass under the terrible cold. He lifted a scroll and spoke the words of a spell, a lightning bolt cracking from a talon to stab the white in the side. But it was too late.
'FREEDOM!' roared the green and leapt skywards and arrowing backwards in to a dive that struck his former master upon his back. He rent him with claws and teeth. The screams of agony shocking the beasts of the woods to flight as the former slave rent the life from his master. The green had little chance against the fury of his former slave, having given his foe the absolute advantage of gaining a grip upon his back. The ex-slave tore his throat out in a spray of gore. He lifted his head and roared in triumph. His eyes then settled on the white. He smiled around bloody teeth. 'You are weakened, white.' he said. 'I already have the hoard of this one, my former master. But methinks that I should wish more. You, shall tell me where your hoard is in exchange for your life!'
The white hissed in annoyance. It seemed that this green was no abused creature, but an evil fiend in his very heart. He prepared himself to fight. There was no choice. Blood flowed from the burned wound in his side, his every movement ripping it open more deeply.
The green suddenly looked up over the white's shoulder and his eyes widened.
The white tried to roll to the side but his wound slowed him as a great form landed with massive claws that fell to both sides of him. The green fled like a frightened bird and he slowly looked up to see a crimson dragon looking down at him from above. The beast had landed with his legs splayed over his shoulders, his hindquarters atop his own. The crimson was huge and far older than the white. Being nearly twice his sise and obviously of far greater strength, as was the nature of crimsons. His massive fanged jaws descended to touch his throat. His hot breath washing across his spine.
'Still.' he rasped. His distant thunder utterance bearing the power of enchantment. The white found himself unable to move, his body held ridged in the power of the crimson. The great serpent touched his hide with his tongue, gently cleaning the bloody wound on his side with a touch so soft that the white barely felt it. The crimson inhaled and then exhaled. A blue flame emerged from his lips and washed over the wound. The white inhaled in surprise and shock as the flame warmed him without harm. When he ceased to breath, the wound was gone as if it had never been. The wonderful warmth of his breath being the only thing left to remind him that he had ever been wounded. The great beast atop him then lowered himself onto his back until they were touching, his back to the crimsons breast the dragon then slid a splayed talon under him and cupped his chest gently, sliding the claws down his underside, his jaws moving across his shoulders in a sliding kiss as he nibbled and licked him with the tip of his tongue.
The white lay in the crimson's enchantment, his mind in turmoil. The Crimson was playing the mate to him, stroking and touching him, teasing and licking, his claws pressing with amorous intent against his body. He felt his body betray him and respond to his touch.
He was so... warm.
A white was always cold, they could never be warm, there icy heart never bathed in the heat of life. And of all things in the world, they regretted this the most. But the crimson's body burned with the fires of the inferno of his creation. The fires of his being could not be deniyed. the white felt that warmth radiating from his breast as it pressed to his back, leaving streaks of blessed warmth behind as he stroked him.
"So cold..." murmured the crimson. "Your body, so cool, as if you held the heart of winter in your breast.." the dragon wrapped his arms around him and pulled him into a true embrace, attempting to bring as much of his body in contact with the white as he could.
The white realized that as with there cold, so it was with the crimsons flame. To be burning forever and never to know a moment of cold, to never be chilled by a breeze, to feel the frost or the tingle of snow. The exhilaration of a cold mountain stream... But he was a white, cold incarnate and his frost could give the crimson the one thing he could never have, the cooling of the raging fever that was his existence. And the crimson gave him in return the blessings of his warmth. The white reveled in the heat of him, sighing even under the spell, enjoying the affections of the crimson with every fiber of his being. His bliss became interest and then lust as the crimson held and caressed him. His mating rod rose from it's sheath as he lay helplessly held in the embrace of fire. The crimson touched his organ and he hissed in pleasure. His claw was so hot that it drove him to buck into his hand as he enveloped it, his mind not even noticing that the spell that had held him still had lapsed. The dragon held him with his gentle seduction, held him with the fires of his passion. The crimson stroked the whites member as the white pressed himself up against his fiery lover. Tring as best he could to become one with his fiery being. Crimson lifted him then, pulling him back into his lap, to lie against his chest. He then lifted him and the white felt a burning hot point of flesh press against his anal entry. The white gasped as he realized his intent. The crimson would use him as a female! He wished to resist, to fight. But the heat of the dragons organ melted his resolve, his rear opening under his gently pressure. The crimson groaned and spurted a stream of pre-cum into the white and the white gasped in ecstacy as the burning hot liquid splashed within him. The warmth spreading thru his body like a raging inferno. The crimson could hold himself back no longer, the incredible coolness of the white driving him to madness and he entered his unresisting body fully, pressing his organ as deep as it would go within him. They both cried out in roars of sudden pleasure as the white felt that burning brand of molten iron within him and the crimson felt his organ gripped by the infinite frozen wastes of the whites being. They just lay there for a moment, trembling in mutual discovery and surprise.
'So cold...' whispered the crimson.
'So warm...' murmured the white.
They collected themselves and the white was the first to speak. 'Take me, my Flame.' he said, reaching back to stroke the crimsons cheek.
'Yes, my Frost' he replied, pressing his cheek into his talon.
The crimson lifted the smaller white and then pressed himself deeply within him, beginning to bounce the smaller dragon in his groin. His massive member plunging to the whites deepest depths. The crimson leaned his head forward and spread wide his jaws and then engulfed the whites member, pumping it into his infernal maw. Reveling in the icicle that was his member. The white roared and groaned at the sheer beautiful pleasure that the crimson's organ gave, the heat, the stroking upon his very center. The crimson pounded into him faster and faster as he was held in his embrace. With a final ecstatic thrust, the crimson spasmed and his seed flooded the white, molten burning life gushed within him and he writhed in the incredible pleasure that it bought. He was truly warm! The crimsons passion had gifted him with the breaking of the frost within his heart. Filling him with his lusty flames and the ecstacy drove him to give forth is own gift, spurting huge gouts of freezing froth into the crimsons maw, to be swallowed as fast as it was given, his forked tongue rasping across his member to wring him of the last of it.
The two gasped and relaxed, radiating the contentment that only a good bout of mating could give. The crimson lifted his head, and breathed out a cloud of fog and frost, licking the icicles from his lips. He embraced the white in his arms, leaning down to press his lips to the whites neck.
'Stay with me, my Frost.'
'Always, my Flame.'
THE END
Well, I hoped you liked it. It was my first M/M piece of fiction and I hope it offends no one.
My thanks for reading it.
The Iron Basilisk.