Scarlet & Gold
Scarlet & Gold
A cold chill had settled over the land of Kodoch, the icy morning mist swirled around the village. The horses, cows, and pigs huddled under their shelter while the villagers themselves struggled to stay warm in the stone huts, thankful for the good hunt that provided the comforting caribou robes.
Shivering in one of the huts, the only one with expensive steel bars set in the windows and a solid stone roof, was a young blonde haired woman. Amongst the dark haired, dark skinned Kodoches, she stood out with her fair complexion. Of course, she wasn't from these parts, instead being a prisoner of the village warriors.
Cylian clutched the moth eaten hide closer, desperate for precious warmth. Her fine silken dress and thin undergarments did little to protect her. How could these barbarians stand this cold? She thought. Or these damn furs? Cylian had been born and raised far to the south; her homeland was the powerful Cyranith Empire. Never had she felt such cold.
Suddenly the heavy oaken door of her cell swung open, allowing entrance of a single man, swathed in furs and leather; a wolverine hide covered his head, giving him a menacing look. After stiffly rising, Cylian peered into the hood, trying to see who this was.
"Silly girl," He said quietly. "You didn't stoke the fire." He bent and tossed a few logs in and began pushing the remaining hot coals around. "You southern folk don't think, do you?" Once he spoke, Cylian knew who he was. Gathis so far had been the only Kodoch to speak her tongue and she knew nothing of theirs.
"I didn't think about it." She said flatly, not wishing to speak more than she had to.
"Southern folk don't think, only northerners do. In the north you think, or die." Flames began leaping from Gathis' work. "There, keep a few logs on it and you should be comfortable. Mawta is working on breakfast." He referred to someone she didn't know.
"Barbarian," Cylian said, it was the only thing she called any of them, "do you have anymore blankets? Cotton or even wool?"
Gathis chuckled, choosing to ignore the derogatory remark. "Yes in fact we do. But why would we lavish them on you, a _prisoner?_Should we let our children freeze so a Cyranian princess can be more comfortable? If you were smart enough to use the fire, you would have the most comfortable room in Kodoch." He sighed calming himself. Gathis was more exhausted than this upstart girl would ever know. Carefully he drew in more elemental energy. The magic was powerful and must be used wisely.
"You're doing it again." Cylian said with distaste. "That heathen magic."
"Hmm, indeed I am. At the moment it's the only thing keeping us both alive."
"Monster. Freak!"
"Breakfast should be ready soon. I'll go fetch it." The ever patient Gathis left.
The past two weeks had been absolute hell for the unfortunate Cylian Lucideous. It hadn't been so long ago when her father, the highly respected Governor Burdon Lucideous of Gandoria, had told her of her future husband, Thalio Anchron. Her entire family was overjoyed; her mother had fainted with elation. Thalio was the esteemed Viceroy of Tyrania, the neighboring province. As the son of the Emperor's cousin, he even held sway in the capitol. Granted, his was over 50 years old and Cylian would be his third wife, but she didn't mind, for he was exceedingly wealthy. He was nearly twice as wealthy as her father as a matter of fact.
After gathering a generous dowry from the peasants, Cylian and her father set off for Thalio's palace with a contingent of twenty servants and forty of Governor's best palace guard. Usually, Cylian didn't enjoy traveling but with such an entourage and her father's best carriage it was quiet pleasant. They traveled slowly, imposing themselves on their subjects often and levied taxes when necessary.
Then, less than a week ago, the noble cavalcade came upon the Mountains of Kordan. The populace in the foothills warned them of Kregan Pass, that Kodoch raiding parties had been plaguing any Cyranian who stepped foot in the pass. The Governor, thinking his forces were more than adequate, decided to march on, any other pass through the mountains would be weeks out of the way.
Cylian had only seen mountains from a great distance, the new terrain fascinated her. It became colder and the lowland Cyranians were ill prepared, father and daughter huddled together for warmth. Finally they came to the road's summit, Kregan Pass.
"Ugh, what an ungodly place." The Governor said, rubbing his ringed hands together for heat. Cylian nodded in agreement.
"Certainly a place unfit for a human being. Really, Father, we should have gone around."
Burdon snorted. "I _will_not be late for the marriage ceremony. The Viceroy would be quite put out; I want to start this alliance on a good solid footing, dear. Besides it shouldn't take..." Suddenly screams could be heard outside the carriage, even the resounding _ring_of swords leaving their scabbards. The Governor stood and tore open the curtain.
"By Cyrano's balls, what is happening captain? Not other damn cougar!"
"No, M' Lord!" Cylian heard the terrified young captain. "T' is an attack on our flanks by the wretch Kodoches."
"Damn and double damn. Can we handle it?" Burdon demanded.
"We're taking heavy casualties, m' Lord. They're rolling boulders and burning logs on us, the fucking barbarians!" The captain screamed.
"Watch your language captain! There is a lady in our midst. Now go! Lead your men! Protect me at all costs. Tell our driver to make haste." Cylian heard the soldier's gauntleted fist strike his breast plate in solute.
"Father!" Cylian cried out, unable to hold it in.
"Quiet, girl, I'm trying to think." Suddenly the carriage stopped, jerking the nobles from their seats. "Son of a bitch! What now!" Burdon stood and left the coach, searching for the cause. Then the Governor's worried brow popped through the door after a moment.
"The driver's been shot, arrow through the neck. Cylian, quickly we'll make for the trees!"
"Oh, father!" Cylian whined as she was drug from the carriage. The carnage outside was too much for the young noblewoman to bear. Guards and servants lay everywhere, some Cylian had known since she was a little girl. Burdon and Cylian ran for the cover of the pines, both panting from the exertion.
Unexpectedly, an enormous black horse blocked their way, so quickly in fact that Burdon ran into it and Cylian into him. Atop the massive, snorting beast a man clad in leather armor held a saber to the Governor's throat.
"Halt!" He roared his eyes full of the fire of battle.
"Please!" Burdon squeaked in fear. "Please do not harm me!" Cylian clutched her father preying for deliverance. The leather clad man slid off the horse as others of his tribe encircled the aristocrats.
"Who are you and what is your business in Kregan Pass?" The saber slid into an exquisite shark skin scabbard.
"I-I am Burdon Lucideous, Governor of His Majesty's Province of Gandoria." Burdon answered slowly.
"And you?" The man pointed at Cylian.
"I am Cylian Lucideous, Daughter of Governor Burdon Lucideous and betrothed to Viceroy Thalio Anchron." She answered with a great deal more confidence than her father.
"I am Gathis of Kodoch, and Mage of the Firewalker Clan. Again, I ask what your business is."
"We are traveling to Tyrania, to meet my betrothed, until you savages interrupted." Cylian answered and several tribesmen chuckled, giving an indication that they understood Cyranian.
"Savages?" Gathis said mockingly. "We're the savages? When you massacre our people? Tell me, Cylian of Gandoria, do you know how your betrothed is paying for his wedding? With Kodoch blood! He raids our villages for our meager gold and slave labor, that's how!" all the tribesmen grunted and nodded in agreement. "Gahdan sorak Illan!" he blurted out in his own tongue. Several riders dismounted and pulled Burdon to the center of their circle and Cylian to the side next to Gathis.
"Governor Lucideous of Gandoria, as Mage of the Firewalker tribe I sentence you to the _Equan_for the remainder of your life. You are our enemy and so you are condemned."
The Governor groaned as he sagged to the ground freeing his writhing body from his Kodoch captors.
"Father! Please stop!" She demanded of Gathis. "I beg you!" Gathis paid her no attention. Cylian watched in horror as her father's muscles bulged and contorted. His languid body seemed to swell and grow while his face distorted.
"By Cyrano what are you doing to him?!!" the man's daughter screamed.
"He is receiving a just punishment." Gathis answered coolly. Burdon's fabulous silk robes began tearing at the collar as his neck grew and his shoulders widened. He struggled to stand on his new longer limbs, the new hooves clomping on the stone. In the fading sunlight Cylian saw fine palomino hair spreading across her father's body. The robe finally had enough with a concluding rip it fell away exposing the former Governor's new body, that of a fine young palomino stallion. Cylian could only gape at the new creature, its final transformations rolling through its powerful body. His upper lip curled drawing in a fantastic new scent, then for the first time, Cylian saw her father's member, though not as it once was, as it unfurled from its sheath. She blushed and looked away as the tribesmen laughed.
"Ha, ha, all right if that's what he wants. Gahdan sorak dayleka, Solor!" Gathis yelled. The circle of riders opened and a pubertal boy brought forth one of the tribes pack-horses. Much to Cylian's horror the beast was a mare and her 'father' was very interested. She closed her eyes and wept as the stallion serviced the bay mare while the tribesmen watched, clapping their hands in rhythm.
"It is over, Cylian." Gathis said. "It is harsh I know but it is the punishment. I'm afraid you will meet your own."
"So my father can fuck me?!!"
"No, it will be quite different than that. We will be bringing you to our village, but tonight we will camp here. I'm sorry, but you must be bound." He walked away and began talking with the other men while her captors bound her with leather thongs near an ancient ponderosa pine where she could be easily watched.
It was a fitful night for Cylian; she struggled to stay awake as awful nightmares filled her sleep. Dead soldiers and palomino stallions haunted her dreams. With no sleep the next day was terrible and much to her disgust the horse she was set upon was her "father's" lover, who the Kodoches began calling "Mistress". Burdon was no longer there or if he was he showed no sign of human intellect. The stallion was just another unbroken stud that awaited training and was led by Gathis himself with a makeshift halter.
The next several days were blurred in Cylian's mind; they were incredibly monotonous for her. They would rise and untied her legs then bind her to Mistress's back. The Kodoches rode hard and long only stopping for a short meal break at midday. They would ride until dark, feed Cylian a thin stew of rice and venison then tie her to a suitable tree for the night.
At long last the troop topped a hill and looked upon the small village of small stone huts with thatch roofs. Even Cylian felt relief; the harsh travel had been rough on the fair girl's body, accustomed to a life of leisure as it was. Without so much as a word the warriors pushed her into the cell and left her alone with the bedraggled caribou hide and a meager supply of jerked meat.
The opening of her cell's door pulled Cylian out of her stupor. She looked up and for a half moment prayed to her god that it was the army of Thalio, come to reclaim his bride. But alas, it was only Gathis, this time with a large, steaming bowl.
"Breakfast, Cylian." He said as he passed the earthen bowl and bone spoon. Despite her anger, Cylian took the bowl eager to eat until she looked at the contents. Red, white and blue lumps mixed in a creamy sauce with chunks of pork it appeared.
"What is this?" She asked rudely.
"Potatoes and smoked pork in _koumiss._Mare's milk. Eat, you need the strength." He said as he piled more wood on the fire.
"What are potatoes?" She asked, never having heard of such things. Gathis chuckled.
"Vegetables, we grow a few varieties of them here. They grow in the ground, like carrots or parsnips." He answered.
"They're not poisoned are they?" She said suspiciously.
"My Lady, if we intended to kill you we would have done so long ago, with out dragging you halfway across a continent. Here look." He took the spoon and shoveled up a blue chunk of potato into his mouth, a bit of _koumiss_dribbling on his chin. "See? My wife made them, I already had bowl this morning."
Cylian didn't like the thought of using the same spoon as he but her hunger got the better of her. Soon she was eating greedily while Gathis watched quietly in the corner. Once finished she began licking the bowl.
"Would you like me to bring more?" He asked. She stopped and looked away embarrassed. "N-no."
"Fine. I'll take the bowl and go."
"What of my father?" She said bluntly, not favoring him with small talk. Gathis sighed regretfully.
"I did not wish to curse your father with the _Equan_but it is the way of our people. Horses are sacred in Kodoch and in making more of them we... eliminate two birds with one stone so to speak. Your father is doing well, if you wish to see him look through your south window, he's grazing the meadow with the herd. I thick he is happy, if it's any consolation." Gathis answered.
"It's not. What are your plans for me, hmm? Rape? Torture? Cannibalism?" She spat at him, though not _on_him, she respected him that much.
"You are to take part in the most hallowed rights of the Firewalkers, at the Festival of Orm. It will take place in three days, on the new moon. The rights are quite rigorous, so I suggest you rest and eat well, for your own sake." She could only glare at him.
"And if I refuse to any of this? If I don't participate in these heathen rights?" he smiled darkly.
"It's not really your choice. You _will_be taken to the Sacred Meadow, with or without your consent; you know firsthand how easily we carried you here from Kregan Pass, we can do it again."
"Your monsters, you know that!" She growled. "What else do you do? Eat babies? Turn our women to cows? Or just rape them?"
That was too much for the Mage. "Your_people killed my son! _You_call _me the savage? You call_me_the barbarian? When you sentence my son to death for the mere fact that he is not Cyranian? _You_and yours are the monsters!" Gathis left slamming the door behind him. In a vile rage Cylian rose and pounded at the door, irritated that the furious Gathis had the presence of mind to lock the door. She continued pounding not knowing what else to do until her hands hurt too much. Exhausted, she curled up in the familiar animal hide and dozed until a Kodoch bought in her supper of roasted beef and more of the strange potatoes.
Cylian spent the next day watching the horses in meadow and sharpening a pig bone she had found at breakfast. She wasn't going down without a fight. A woman brought in her lunch at midday. It was difficult to attack an unarmed woman, but she managed it jabbing the poor woman in the right arm. The woman cried out and fell; leaving the door open and Cylian took her chance and dashed for the forest. Unfortunately far too many villagers heard the woman's cry and rushed to her aid, sending mounted warriors after Cylian.
She was quickly caught and dragged kicking and screaming to her cell where Gathis was waiting.
"So'luth Illan, andraka." He ordered the warriors. Cylian shrieked when she saw the brutal looking knife pulled from a warrior's belt. This was the end for sure! She closed her eyes, expecting the cold steel to pierce her flesh but instead heard the sound of her soiled silk dress being cut away. She opened her eyes and found her proud breasts exposed for the entire world to see, only her thin loin cloth remained and that was soon torn away, leaving her lower body exposed to the fierce cold.
"I did not want to do this, but you leave me no choice. Under any other circumstances you would be subject to the Equan, but Mighty Culdrake requires your... services. Thankfully, your attack against Kayla was superficial, she will have a scar, but otherwise she will be well. I have bought in plenty of wood and your dinner is in the corner. Remember, Daughter of Cyranith, tomorrow is your day of destiny. Celeau!" With his order the warriors tossed her aside and left with Gathis following behind.
Furious, naked, and cold, Cylian picked up her dirty fur and wrapped it around her chilled body. It only covered one half at time and the thought of the filthy animal hide touching her bare skin disgusted her, but it was her only source of modesty. After devouring her pork and potatoes and throwing wood on the fire, Cylian lay on the cold stone floor and awaited her destiny.
* * *
Again the morning was cold. Fortunately, Gathis's advice served Cylian well; she had kept the fire roaring all night. She had been moderately comfortable during the night, even naked with an insect chewed pelt.
Early, too early, Cylian was woken by a loud rap on her door. "What?!" she screamed but received no answer. Looking out the window she realized that only the first rays of sunlight had broken the night. Stamping her foot in anger she sat down, angry that she couldn't a proper amount of sleep. All her life Cylian had risen when she wanted and that was usually when the sun was well over the horizon.
After fuming a bit, her door burst open allowing the entrance of half a dozen warriors and Gathis. "Please stand" He said looking her right in the eye. Slowly she stood trying to irk him but Gathis was simply too patient. He came forward, preparing to place an elaborate leather and gold collar around her graceful neck.
"What the hell is that?" She said stepping away. Gathis sighed, realizing that this wasn't going to be as easy as he had hoped.
"Think of it as a wedding present. Please, Lady Lucideous, there is an easy way and a nasty, hard way. I can assure you, you will not like the hard way."
"Fine you horrid barbarian." She stuck her head out allowing Gathis to locate the collar, taking care to keep her flaxen hair from the clasp. Tugging on the rope attached to the collar Gathis lead Cylian through the door into a throng of cheering villagers.
"What's going on?" Cylian demanded.
"I told you, the Festival of Orm. This year's rituals are particularly important. Today is the Autumnal Equinox as well as the new moon, a time of ending as well as beginning. Grand Culdrake ends his long slumber, and wishes to begin a family, as his father did with my great grandfather. The Firedrakes and the Firewalkers are intertwined; we provide for another, we are kinsfolk, Dragon and Man."
"Dragon?" Cylian said with awe, and then shook her head. "Creatures of stories and lies."
Gathis smiled sadly as he led hear to an alter set before his house. "Perhaps your father will believe me." Cylian looked away, the remark stung. His point was well taken, however. Gathis climbed the small alter, and with Cylian by his side spoke to his people at length. Cylian understood nothing, of course, but watched the small crowd. Several of the young men gawked at her nakedness, some rebuked by their mothers and wives, others sneaking away for a better look. Cylian just smiled proudly, trying to take away their joy of her shame. Gathis concluded his speech amongst cheers from his people. They clapped and chanted; then began collecting bags and canteens.
"What is this?!" Cylian demanded of her captor.
"The march to the Sacred Meadow begins." He tugged on the rope. "Come, we are needed at the front of the line." Cylian followed in protest, knowing an all out fight with the man was pointless. The villagers organized themselves quickly, families and friend grouping together to talk and hike. Gathis went the front with a woman Cylian guessed was his wife; she even caught sight of Kayla rubbing her bandaged arm. The woman just smiled and nodded, making Cylian feel very uncomfortable. Gathis hollered to the group and they gave deep grunt in unison and they were off.
"Let's go" He tugged on the rope but Cylian didn't move.
"What no horses? Not even a fucking donkey?"
"This is a sacred day, and our beasts have earned their day of rest. Besides, the trail is unsuitable for riding." He tugged again, a little harder this time.
"Fine, fine, I'm coming."
Any pack animal would have had trouble on the trail. It was steep and rocky, and while it was deeply rutted from centuries of footfalls, the pilgrims often found trees and boulders had fallen across the path forcing either a climb over or around. It was doubly difficult for poor Cylian, she was naked and bare foot and the time in the cell atrophied her dainty muscles. They stopped often, however, for she was not the only one who struggled with the ascent. There were young children, elderly, pregnant and infirm among them, a testament to how sacred this event was to the Firewalkers.
At these breaks Cylian would prod Gathis for answers; she became nervous with lack of knowledge. What was this? What was her part? She tried to think back to her tutoring as a girl, of what she learned of Kodoches. But she only learned that she and her tutors were woefully ignorant of other peoples of the world. When Gathis only provided cryptic answers or simply didn't respond she turned to the villagers but they only smiled kindly, or placed a gentle hand on her shoulder then turned away.
While it was cold, the arduous hike kept everyone warm, even the nude Cylian, but she did take notice of the chill.
"Is it always cold Kodoch?" She murmured to herself but Gathis overheard.
"In summers it is as warm as nearly anywhere, uncomfortable even. Then you should see the low plains below us, the heat is unbearable."
"Sounds nice to me. Is-is that snow?" she said looking up at the magnificent mountain peaks.
"Yes, beautiful, isn't it?" Gathis stopped and looked himself.
"Yes, yes, I suppose it is. I've never seen snow. I am confused about it however." she admitted.
"Bewildered over snow? Perhaps I can help."
"From what I've learned, it needs to be cold for snow, right?" she asked, realizing that this trip was bringing her closer to Gathis and that frightened her.
"Yes, otherwise it is rain." He answered, stepping over an aspen log.
"That is an awful lot of snow for how long it's been cold, summer only just ended." She said stepping over the same log and taking Gathis's hand for support without realizing it. She was a bit embarrassed when Gathis laughed but still listened for the answer, waiting while he helped his wife over the offending log.
"The snow on those mountains never thaws; they are so high it never melts."
"I've always been confused by that." She stated.
"What's that?"
"Why it's colder higher up. Isn't it closer to the sun?"
Gathis shrugged. "It just works that way." He knew the answer, but was afraid her Cyranian learning would keep her from understanding thinner air. Culdrake will teach her much, he decided.
Sunset was beginning to threaten by the time the pilgrimage reached the Sacred Meadow, and most of the men prepared camp and women built fires, many fires, enough to light most of the small park.
"Huhrut Illan toduk atta!" Cylian jumped when Gathis suddenly burst out. "I'm sorry Cylian, but you will not like this." She began screaming when half a dozen men seized her and began carrying her to the center of the meadow.
"What are you doing?!!"
"Please, Cylian, calm down..." The terrified woman saw what appeared to be a pyre prepared in the middle of the field.
"You're going to burn_me _ALIVE!!!" She kicked and screamed but the warriors were much too strong.
"Please, Cylian, calm down, we are not..."
"Oh Mighty Cyrano save me! Burning me like a witch! You filthy dark skinned bastards! Oh you'll all rot in hell, hear me! IN HELL!!"
Due to her fighting, Cylian fell from their gasp onto the pyre but they quickly apprehended her and began lashing her body to the altar, her arms and legs spread wide. Cylian was openly weeping now, the tears rolling down her face.
"I-I was beginning to trust you." She moaned.
"I know. I hope you will forgive me."
"You will receive no forgiveness from the next world as long as I am there, you bastard."
He rolled his eyes in exasperation. "You are not going to die, lovely Cylian."
"Rot in hell." She looked away, realizing the entire village had encircled them, watching intently. She gasped when she felt something cold splash on her stomach. Cylian turned her head and saw Mawta had began rubbing a cold, slick green substance over her body.
"Sorry so cold." The pretty middle aged woman said. "Had to use spring water, very cold."
"You speak..."
"Of course, most Kodoch do. I slave of Thalio 'til Gathis save me. Trust us. Trust Gathis. You like change, you like Mighty Culdrake, he good dragon." More silliness about dragons, Cylian gulped and nodded trying to get the woman to leave. She heard Gathis's wife give a raspy sigh then said. "You no like this, I sure." The woman held a large white porcelain jug and poured a dark liquid into her hand. Mawta then rubbed Cylian's vulva, deeply and then invaded the prostrate girl's body.
"HEY!_Stop that! _Oh! Stop... oh, yes." Mawta smiled as she toyed with Cylian's clitoris, then, just as the younger woman was about to orgasm, she stopped. Cylian was disappointed but would never admit it.
"You make many good eggs now and very slick love tunnel. Culdrake happy, many little baby dragons."
Cylian stared at her, dubious of Mawta's sanity. "You're mad." Mawta chuckled as she picked up her potions. "I leave you alone, you be in strong heat soon, little crazy." She spun a finger by her ear as she left. Cylian snorted, disgusted by the Kodoch woman's insanity.
Mawta's prediction proved to be correct. The heat started deep in Cylian's abdomen and spread quickly throughout her body, but concentrated in her loins, stimulating her vaginal juices. The horniness unbearable, but being strapped down she could do nothing to satisfy it. Her legs were just too far apart to grind together for a slight pleasuring and her hands were well above her head.
The chanting of the villagers drew her attention away. "Culdrake! Culdrake! Culdrake!" they yelled with deep respect.
Cylian would have never believed it if she hadn't seen it. In the darkness just low enough that his belly could be seen, a great dragon flew over her. She gasped in awe as the glorious creature landed in front her, his scarlet scales glistening in the firelight. He was slightly larger than a draft horse in his body though his neck and tail made him much longer. Contrasting against the deep scarlet scales his belly was creamy yellow and low down his genital slit oozed with need. Even someone such as Cylian, who knew nothing of dragons, could see he was deep in rut.
"Grolos, Gathis." The great creature rumbled, his voice deep and guttural, but easily understandable.
"Grolos, Gatta Culdrake!" She heard Gathis answer and saw him bow in the corner of her eye, which she couldn't take off the beautiful dragon before her. He stretched his wonderful wings as he spoke to Gathis, their span awe inspiring.
"Grolos, Pyroganus!" He pointed at Cylian. "Illan? Cyranian Illan?"
"Jutta, Culdrake, es Illan."
_"Ah"_The dragon turned to Cylian who shivered as she felt his eye bore into her very sole.
"My_Illan_," he rumbled in the tongue of Cyranith. "You are perhaps the most beautiful creature I have laid eyes upon." Cylian blushed; finding herself sexually attracted to him as well, confused as to why and at the same time didn't care why.
"As you are the most beautiful _I_have seen." She said, absently eyeing his genital slit, where his mammalian like penis made an appearance, just peeking through, and then darting back.
Culdrake smiled, looking like a goofy teenage boy. He crept forward, bent down and breathed deeply over the quivering Cylian's love mound, his hot, sultry breath making her shudder as it swirled around her genitals. His scarlet eyes rolled back in delight with scent, his long, slick penis falling from its protective sheath.
"You are indeed my Illan. What is your name?" He gently ran his talons through her hair.
"I am called Cylian." She answered in an anxious voice.
"A lovely name, for a lovely dragoness, but are you frightened my love? Here I will free you, Illan." With a tiny _snick_the leather thong sliced easily under his talon. "Much better."
"Thank you, Master Dragon, but what does _Illan_mean?" She said, folding her arms.
"Ah, call me Culdrake that is my name. _Illan_is our word for a dragon's love, his soul mate, the one and only, and you are mine, and I yours." His long, flesh colored penis was rigid, draconic pre-cum dibbling from the flared tip. He desperately wanted to take her but held back. While very old in the terms of humans, he was still a very young dragon, a virgin just as she.
Slowly, gently, the dragon positioned himself so his oozing pecker tenderly massaged Cylian's vaginal lips. Culdrake was startled when she moaned and jerked away, frightened that he had hurt her.
"Nooo," She muttered, "Please, do it again, deeper." He glanced at the watching, crowd as her repositioned. He could hump her at the Great Arena in Cyranith with a full audience, dragons simply didn't care. But he had heard that humans were conscientious of such things. Oh well, she'd be of his kind soon enough.
He pushed hard. She was so tight! How could he ever fit! Cylian watched the mammoth cock enter between her legs and felt glory as he entered, but she too was frightened of his size. It hurt for only a moment and with a pop her body shifted, her pelvis grew and he slid in with ease.
Cylian wailed with delight as her body continued to change, fair golden scales erupted around her groin and spread. Tiny buds of wings sprouted from her back, flapping wildly in a sign of ecstasy. The changes advanced rapidly as the lovers caressed one another, hands and feet grew talons. Cylian's increasing body mass allowed to better pleasure her lover.
She was terrified when he blew his fire upon her, afraid it would burn her delicate skin but instead it provided another source of pleasure, as her skin had hardened into impenetrable golden scales. Once her face had grown out to a muzzle Cylian attempted it herself. At first her fire flared pathetically, her second effort proved successful and Culdrake was roaring with rapture as he pumped his _Illan_full of his hot seed.
Gathis tried to pull his people from the scene of the Dragons' mating, but there was nothing doing and the Dragon's themselves were too enraptured with one another to care.
"It's beautiful isn't it?" Mawta said from behind his shoulder.
"It is but I wish our people would leave it alone." He answered.
"It's only curiosity, not perversion. Still, I suppose you're right, they do deserve _some_privacy." She said, drawing him closer in the chill. Suddenly the Dragons uncoupled, glanced at the horde of villagers once, and with flap of their mighty wings took to the air, the younger of the two struggling a bit on her new wings. Tonight would only be the first mating; they would spend the next month pleasuring one another, consummating their very long lifetime relationship.
Mawta stood one her tip toes to kiss her much taller husband. "Perhaps, we should... find some privacy of our own. It _is_the Sacred Meadow, you know."
Gathis smiled devilishly. "You're right, it's only proper."
Mawta smiled, filled with joy. Gathis had been so obsessed with the Dragons for months now, ever since his grandfather came to him in a dream, telling him of the importance of this year's Festival of Orm. She had been very patient, but a woman did have needs.
"Come Gathis, I made sure our tent was in very private spot." She smiled and pulled on his tunic. Gathis grinned and followed after one more look at the night sky.
fin