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Lezarre had sensed an unusual hunger from his cohort this dark winter's evening, but that only served to fuel his insatiable lust for her. With the flick of one claw, the ribbon that tied together her tight-fitting waist strap surrendered and unraveled, the last of her garments hitting the floor as their mouths met again. His cream-colored bed- still in its usual confused shambles- enfolded the pair as he pushed his partner down upon it.

Nyreen was beginning to feel warm, and she could feel her excitement building all around her. Although she was not certain of how this night was going to end, even the suspicion- the hope of it- made it that much more electrifying. The large male pinned her down to the bed by her shoulders, his tongue making child's play of the most sensitive areas of her neck as she used her feet to bring down his leather briefs. Just from the way his apparel was being resisted, she could tell he was, at the very least, at half-arousal. With a slight kick, his briefs were on the floor at his ankles, and as he towered himself above her a bit more intimidatingly, his malehood stood more at attention, and she began to take it between her toes, her teasingly cold hide making it pulse.

Lezarre made a sharp grunt at first contact, and bent down once more to re-attend to his partner's neck as he shifted a little. He moved his hands from Nyreen's front and slid them behind her, taking gentle hold of her lower back as he shifted both their bodies up the bed a little, a slight creak from the frame emanating as he did so. He heard his partner sigh melodically into his ear when a twinge of slight pleasure made him bite ever so delicately as his hands traced along very distinct cuts on her back. She likes a bit of pain; that he already knew very well. But as she was already starting to play with him, better to return the favor now. He began sliding his right hand down her back, his claws scraping their way over her slightly more rounded rump before he took them around to her front. Her legs were bent and upright a ways; while she still had one foot playing with his cock, the other was caressing his side. He took his hand and put it beneath her thigh, squeezing it, tickling it, getting some electricity going. He gave her a slap; she cooed and smiled. Then, he took his hand and placed it on her loins, slowly working his way down her groin.

He wasted no time in inserting two digits into her hot, trembling cunt. Nyreen sighed merrily; oh, how she adored Lezarre's techniques. He always started with the quick entrance, followed by a bit of twisting that made her stomach leap. She flung her mouth open and crooned, her hands now on Lezarre's chest. He raised his head and licked his lips as he watched her shiver in delight, a twisted smile on her face.

"It never wears out, this body of yours," he said to her, fingers dancing within her. He could feel her clench every so often, with tiny bursts of pleasure no doubt. "Beautiful. Drives me crazy."

"And I never get tired of your undying attention," was her sultry reply, her blazing silver eyes staring right back into his. She suddenly bucked into Lezarre's hand when a spasm of bliss hit her, making her sigh. Not needing any more of a sign, Lezarre introduced another digit into her cavern before drilling at her a little harder. With this, Nyreen lied herself down a bit more to ride the pleasure, dropping her feet. Lezarre's member was pulsing, his arousal being sustained simply by watching the sexy dragoness writhe.

Nyreen was beginning to feel a rush. Her partner's fingers expertly pleasured her, as they have done many times before this, but there was something else. A thought. A fantasy. One that had been in her mind for days, and very prominently the last few hours. What if it happened? What if it came true? Lezarre had pushed it in the past before; she wouldn't be thinking about it so much if she didn't think he was capable of it. She could almost feel an icy heat from the semi-healed lacerations on her back, a constant reminder that the possibility was real.

Come on, fucker. Do something dangerous.

Lezarre could feel Nyreen beginning to rock her body to his drives, and noticed her arching her back every so often. He had one free hand, behind her; one free hand which he could use to send her a message he knew she loved to hear. That she was his, and her body was his to control.

Without even thinking about it, his hand was no longer free, but clasped around Nyreen's flawless, white neck. Out of pure instinct, her hands met his wrist, giving the impression that she wanted to free herself, but all she did was squeeze at his arm.

"Took you long enough," she said, her voice raspy with the pressure from his hand, and slightly tuneful from the pleasure still building in her loins.

"Why don't you tell me," Lezarre started, his voice laced with a strange, masculine hunger. "Exactly how badly you want it."

"Like you wouldn't- Mnn! - believe."

"Oh, sweet little piece of ass," he began to squeeze at her throat, his claws hard against the sides of her neck. "You can do much better than that."

Nyreen choked a little bit, a sharp bubble of pain suddenly appearing in her lungs from a cough she was unable to perform, but her body betrayed that feeling with bliss as the male's expert fingers continued to work her cunt again and again, swirling in a patternless way that made her push her feet down hard into the bed. Her hands clutched in a strangely delicate way on her partner's hard, green arm, as he looked down into her eyes again.

"Well?"

Nyreen opened her mouth, "I fucking want it." She shivered in savage delight.

"Want what?"

"Fucking do it!"

Lezarre was very pleasantly surprised. Two nights prior, young Nyreen Brighton had not been so thrilled to have his hands on her throat. She fought it. She was frightened by it. But it was the look she had given him that night that made him do it; an almost pleading desperation. There was nothing more arousing to the male than to see this hot, young female silently begging for him to take her to the limit. Make her his little bitch. He had seen this look the first time they met, when he had seen her at the bar in the shady part of town. Dressed in black leather and red chiffon, the white dragoness caught his eye; he ordered her a drink, she humored him with conversation. Her naïveté was cute, her innocence was noteworthy, but his attention wasn't on her words. Rather, her flawless neck, her brutally attractive legs, her almost goddess-like abdomen. He needed to have a taste.

And that night, he had her. Despite her objections, despite her opposition, he had her. She fought him at first, sure, but he knew what buttons to push to calm her down. It drove him wild, to have his hands on a thing of such beauty. He didn't hurt her, that first time. She relented, and then she got into it. Even after all this time he still didn't know if that was just an act, but he liked to believe it wasn't. He liked to believe she at first didn't want it, but accepted it anyways and ended up liking it. And before the two of them finished together in the throes of orgasm, she had given him that look. Pleading desperation. He had never had such a powerful finish than then.

But this look wasn't that look. This look, that she was now giving him right to his eye, was different. There was a hunger there. Something carnal. Lezarre very much enjoyed freeing the inner animal in his sexy cohort; he was rubbing off on her, both literally and mentally it would seem. In many ways he was as much a vice for her as she was for him. This was as much invitation to proceed as Lezarre would need. He began to lower his body, increasing his grip on the female as he did so.

Nyreen had no objections whatsoever. Not really, anyways. Everything Lezarre did to her was, in one way or another, things that she's always wanted but never fully realized. Despite his narcissism and dominance, she felt like she was getting the long end of the stick in their partnership. And tonight, she was going to truly find out whether she had more control over him than the other way around. The thought of him...

Nyreen tried to scream in bliss, but it came out a raspy moan instead. Her body was on fire; her wings spread out over the bed, filling it with her gentle white. Lezarre was bending himself back, and his fingers were now rubbing all over the edges of her cavern, their attention being paid to the pulsing nub of her clit. Her breathing was staggering now, made all the more difficult by the hand gripping her neck. Her hands were now squeezing Lezarre's wrist very forcefully. During their last tryst, Lezarre had choked Nyreen after their session was over, and although she didn't know what to expect from him, she ended up climaxing again from just that alone. The kind of dizzy rush that the mind gets from the mix of fear, pleasure and pain make for an unexpectedly satisfying ending.

The dragoness was beginning to get this rush now. Her body was on auto-pilot, rocking on its own and shaking in bliss as the male started to put his weight on her. He made his way a bit downwards, his hand still tight around her neck. Nyreen closed her eyes now, focusing her mind on the weight around her throat.

Lezarre knew that Nyreen was close, and that she wanted more than just a firm grip on her neck. She wanted pain, and fear; things he intended on giving her in plenty. But to do that, he'd need his other hand, the one that could feel her cunt clutching and milking at his fingers. Her walls pulsed, squeezed, then slowed; then again, convulsing and undulating. He had no intention of letting her orgasm around his fingers. They weren't meant for that.

So as soon as Nyreen made one very large breath, Lezarre removed his hand from her sex and joined it with its twin around the dragoness' unspoiled neck, all the while sliding his hips from their lowered position until he could feel the welcoming heat, moisture and tantalizing familiarity of Nyreen's cunt around his throbbing cock.

Nyreen screamed, but no sound emanated. No air escaped.

Lezarre's entry spread her walls, and he went deep, perhaps all the way, sparking so much pain and pleasure she could have very well been hit with a gunshot. He eyes shot open, and over her in his dark, ravenous grin Lezarre stayed. He was frighteningly still. So concentrated on keeping Nyreen's air within her lungs, he did not move. He only grinned and stared.

Nyreen's climax was very powerful. She bent her back, bringing her chest up as far as she could go, her legs and wings instinctively stretching as her cunt flashed with pleasure as hot as magma within her; her muscles betrayed her, convulsing and twitching all around.

Lezarre was very happy, to feel Nyreen writhing beneath him, her sex reacting in an almost panicked sense around his member. God, it was something else. Like a vice-grip made of hot, wet silk, teasing his cock as it flailed in pleasure. The warmth of her body rose and filled the room, blanketing him. His hands stayed as they were.

After a moment, Nyreen's spasms became less rampant, so Lezarre began the work he had been so patiently waiting to start. Using his tail, Lezarre tapped on the floor, searching for something he knew would be lying there. He swept it around, all the while keeping his body completely still, watching his partner continue to instinctively buck into him and struggle.

Soon, he found his prey; long, cold and leather. The strap, from Nyreen's outfit; the exact strap he had intended to use during their last session before Nyreen had gotten cold feet. But not this time; this time, he was going to use it properly. Like a leash, this strap will teach the young female who the master of this tryst is.

"CHRIST, YES-" were the only words Nyreen was able to bellow while Lezarre momentarily let go of her to get the strap around her neck. She hadn't even thought about it; perhaps it was unreasonable to think Lezarre could do it with just his hands the entire time? Either way, she intended on enjoying this. She was going to give him a show. Give him a taste of the power; maybe he'll even take it all the way. That thought sent electricity through her bones, even after her climax. In her afterglow she was hardly able to take in any air before the strap was looped around her and tightened with extreme strength.

She most certainly could not breathe, that much Lezarre knew. How much air she had in reserve was another thing entirely, but Lezarre was too far gone to care. He celebrated his new leash by giving the freshly climaxed female a very firm and hard hump as deep as he could go, his waist meeting her rump. She grunted, and he grinned again, one hand firmly holding onto the end of the strap. He twisted it a ways around her head so it wouldn't get in the way, and then tested its turgidity with his teeth, biting slightly into her skin as he did so. She whimpered, her hands brushing against it, feeling that it is in fact real, and this is really happening.

They both felt a jolt of excitement.

Lezarre began to slowly buck into his partner, his dark green hips meeting her sexy white every time. Her caverns weren't convulsing as much any longer, but he could still feel her muscles spasm beneath him as he continued his work. He kept his eyes on hers, watching her come to terms with the tool around her throat, letting her adjust to the feeling. He wanted her to feel everything at once. When he was satisfied that she was well aware of the situation, he took her hands and put them behind her head.

Nyreen grunted slightly when she felt a tug on the strap; using the other end, Lezarre bound her wrists together. The strap wasn't that long, so Nyreen found her hands awkwardly close together behind her head, but at the same time she understood that keeping her comfortable isn't exactly something Lezarre is known to do. Regardless, in an attempt to make a frustrated grumble, no air escaped her lungs. Nothing moved at all, just a strange _rrrf_instead. A wave of fear wrung through the young female.

He actually tied my neck... I can't escape, even if I wanted to.

Nyreen didn't know which was more arousing. The fact that her very dangerous and sadistic partner had done what she had only recently begun to fantasize to her, or the fact that she had this very dominant and masculine male practically wrapped around her finger. She found it inexplicably gratifying that he was doing everything she wanted him to, all the while believing he was hot shit. Poetry, she believed it was.

Lezarre was in his own little paradise. As soon as her hands were bound behind her and she could no longer fight back, he picked up the pace. He didn't see any sense in talking; he hated talking to someone who didn't talk back, whether they were capable of it or not. All of the communication he needed was in her eyes. He could see her hunger and her lust. But he wasn't going to get off on that. He needed something more from her. Something once in a lifetime.

The male's pulsating member entered at a steady rate, but not so much to her complete depth any more. He angled himself upward, letting her get a very sharp snap of pleasure that made her body wiggle beneath him. She was moving her head awkwardly, as if she was struggling to swallow a pill, adjusting to the feeling of being unable to breathe. Her neck was arching back and forth, the strap making a strange stretching sound each time.

Having no intakes of air has a strange numbing sensation on the body at first; to everything, of course, but the pleasure. Pain doesn't exist in the first few moments of breathlessness. There was only her sex, being generously treated by her large male partner, and the strap. That's it. In her bliss, Nyreen managed to keep her eyes open, watching the dominating male rock himself back and forth into her body, his member penetrating her overstimulated cunt again and again. Deep down, Nyreen truly did have a fear of Lezarre; he was very large, very handsome, but dark. There was a demeanor there that was threatening to her.

When they had first met, she had no intention of going home with anybody. When he approached her, it was clear what he was after. He had looked her up and down enough times for her to get it. Still, she fought it. She struggled against that compulsion to accept the inevitable. But it was inevitable. He was gorgeous in his own way; a dragon so menacing you couldn't help but admire him. His muscled arms and chest stuck out through his garments, and his voice so forceful Nyreen wondered how she fought it for so long.

She pushed him away. Swatted his hands when they stroked her thighs, lashed at his tail as it teased her rear, shoved his body away as he leaned in close. But then, there was a shout. Either it was Enough teasing, whore! or it was Stop pretending, slut! or perhaps it was neither. It didn't matter what he said. His aggression radiated through her core; there was no stopping him, which she knew then. She relented, and let him have her. But it wasn't all unwilling. When his warm tongue made its way up her neck , when his hands weaved down her back... when his member entered her that first time, it was immediately mutual. Collaborative. She wanted to control him just as badly as he wanted to control her. But she had a different tactic, a much more female tactic. Let him think he's the one with the power. She never realized how close to the limit she wanted to go until that first time with him that night.

And until tonight, never realized how badly she wanted to cross that limit.

Nyreen shook with pleasure as Lezarre grunted again, his entries getting forceful out of instinct. The young dragoness could already feel the pleasure beginning to build once more, and it was taking its toll on her. Without breath, her body began to burn. Her muscles were hot, and tightening, making her feel as though she were being compressed from all directions. Yet, she could also feel the power of each of her partner's thrusts, the pain of the tight strap on her neck, and the bliss building inside her loins.

Her mind was reeling, which disoriented her. Every so often she felt like she was falling; her body could not tell which way was up, or down. There was only back and forth, to and fro, the rocking of both the scaled bodies as they had their carnal session. Lezarre barked a loud groan, one of his hands now bracing himself against the bedframe, the other on Nyreen's shoulder. She tried to keep her eyes open as much as possible; watch keenly as the male's breathing became erratic and labored. Watching him breathe made her ache for it. Her lungs began to seize inside her, begging for release. The air trapped within began to feel heavy, making it feel more like she were drowning than suffocating.

Either way, the weight began to manifest into pain, making Nyreen's eyes well up. She could barely comprehend her own body's movements; her wings were flailing slightly, and her hips were bucking again and again, trying desperately to escape out of the invisible coffin it felt as though she were in. Her loins betrayed this by pulsing with ecstasy, making her already weakening muscles jolt with heat and electricity. She couldn't tell what was going to enthrall her first; the pleasure or the breathlessness. She could no longer keep her eyes open; she turned her head to the side and in her struggles forced herself into the sheets beneath her.

Lezarre was overwhelmed by what he was watching. Tears in her eyes, the dragoness was lying flat, her body reacting completely by instinct now. He could see with each thrust her muscles jerk beneath her skin. Her body was very, very warm; her impeccably white hide had reddened, and even the skin on her face and neck were blushing beneath the scales. Only a matter of time. He could hear her struggling to make noises through the strap, but it was all for not; just an assortment of clicks, a gurgle here and there and an odd _hlck_sound.

The male gasped in delight when a twinge of pleasure hit his groin. His body was moving very fast, his hand was clawing into Nyreen's shoulder. He watched as she kicked around, reacting to the pain when his claws drew blood. But even despite this, her cunt continued to pump and thrash, her body trembling but still rocking to his rhythm. He could feel her hips hitting him back; he knew that she was experiencing pure delight. That's what turned him on the most; that she got a kick out of it. But this is farther than he had expected to take her, and he wasn't stopping now. He wanted to see it.

He wanted to see her die.

He held himself back a bit, trying to wait for the moment of truth before he let himself get past the point of no return. His cock throbbed, leaking copious amounts of pre-seed into her undulating depths. He had only ever climaxed inside Nyreen on their first night; she had admitted that she was fertile and managed to avoid being inseminated using quick thinking. She assured him that he had not impregnated her, much to his relief.

He didn't know that this was a lie, but that didn't matter right now.

Each night since then, he had come up with creative ways to finish without the aforementioned risk. He always loved how her skin tone matched the color of his seed, like she was meant to wear it. Perhaps that's how he'll finish tonight. Sounds reasonable.

He continued his treatment, all the while watching Nyreen carefully. She was beginning to make a sour face, a result of her tongue swelling inside her mouth no doubt. Her legs were now bent around Lezarre's waist, seemingly beckoning him. He didn't resist this, obviously; he took his hands and put them on her legs and held them up, spreading her more open and giving himself a broader picture to admire.

His work was panning out perfectly. Nyreen felt the last bit of healthy air metabolize within her, and now her body began to burn. Her muscles were failing, she could feel it in each of her limbs. She could feel the rotting of her insides beginning, and she couldn't seize her situation, her mind stupefied by the struggle. The burning wasn't painful, and her body weakening wasn't painful either. But it was frightening; a new level of fear that Nyreen never saw coming.

There's a peculiarity in how the mind deals with this situation. Nyreen no longer had any sense of direction, and even though her mind was begging for her to struggle, fight, and breathe, her limbs could not respond properly. Her wings fell flat onto the bed, her arms went numb, her legs went limp. She still had an overwhelming sense of everything she could feel. Every pump of her partner into her awaiting depths sent tremendous surges into her chest, which increased the burning sensation. Nyreen realized that the pleasure and the breathlessness had become one and the same. One constant force all throughout her. She could neither fight it, nor embrace it, her body was no longer her own. All she could do was struggle to breathe, and move her hips up and down along the steel-hard cock of her sadistic partner. Flashes of colors and lights plagued her vision; she opened her eyes, and still they were there. Everything was falling apart. This was real. This realization turned into fear, and her fear fed her pleasure.

Never had she ever had such an absurdly powerful orgasm in her life.

It was like being electrocuted. She could feel the surge flow through her body, shaking her, jolting her every muscle, artery and bone. And as her muscles quaked, they burned and struggled. The climax leeched every last ounce of energy her body had into an explosion. Her chest reached up as high as she could, and her mouth gaped open in a silent wail.

Lezarre felt it. He felt her sex slow down to a crawl only to suddenly shudder with every ounce of power he knew she had in her. He felt her legs suddenly return to life, shaking and twisting as she did in his hands. Her entire body thrashed beneath him, and he was vapor-locked. He could not stop what he was doing. He couldn't.

Nyreen went on as long as she could before the pleasure was reduced to numbness. Her climax rained down on her in powerful waves, but she was incapable of riding it any longer. It was killing her, and she could feel it very astutely. But in that moment, she knew her goal was accomplished. She put on the show her merciless cohort didn't know he wanted.

And a show it was. Lezarre was completely unaware of how fast his thrusts had now become, watching his captive writhe as her orgasm took the life out of her. Her hide, face and neck now a deep purple. Her chest was jerking awkwardly, and her mouth hung slightly open in a desperate and vain attempt at that last breath. Her legs and wings began to get stiff, her muscles bending to try and preserve themselves hopelessly. Lezarre's point of no return had come and gone already, but he only slightly noticed. His mind was so wrought with bliss, with power, that he surrendered all control. He watched as her life dwindled before him, barely hanging on at this point.

Nyreen was frightened. Incredibly frightened. But she had no power. There was nothing she could do. It was over, the show became too much for her to handle. She didn't know what was going to happen, she wanted so desperately to get out, one way or another. She wanted to breathe.

Lezarre watched as Nyreen's beautiful abdomen heaved up and down fruitlessly for air. So desperate for air. Her perfect belly rose and fell, rose and fell, again and again without any luck.

So perfect was this sight, that against his better judgment Lezarre allowed his cock to explode its seed inside Nyreen's cunt. Oh, it was indescribable. He'd probably never get off this well ever again; his body trembled in delight, his muscles twisting and undulating so much they almost hurt.

Even despite it all, Nyreen felt this too. Felt him have his glorious moment. Heard him roar out loud, deep and masculine like he always did. She felt him put his hand on her abdomen, riding out his orgasm as he felt it continue to collapse under his palm.

He was mesmerized. As he filled her with his seed, he was fixated on watching her body give up. Watching her fleeting attempts to regain her life fail, he knew this is what was right. What they both wanted. Pushing it past the limit.

When his orgasm subsided, Nyreen's abdomen was no longer moving. He lied down and placed his ear to her chest. This part he was going to savor. Her heart- her vibrant, young heart- was withering. But he could hear it very clearly. It wasn't a struggling sound, or an imperfect arrhythmia. No, it was actually quite beautiful. It simply grew slower, and quieter, in an almost delicate way. Lezarre thought this was kind of bittersweet, but perhaps he was just being cute in his afterglow. He closed his eyes and held his breath to listen for the moment.

After a very short moment, the sound stopped. Just for a second. And in that second, Nyreen was gone.

Then, air.

Air!

Air!!