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A Sympathetic Mind

By Slair 'Starbuck' Mongrel

11-21-2005

Slair Mongrel the hyena reclined nervously on the seat provided for him, rubbing his jaw with trembling fingers. The light of Dominaratal Shadescale's personal chambers was low, almost dusky, the perfect atmosphere for the dragoness' lair. Anticipation filled the hyena to the point that fear almost overwhelmed him, filling him with the feeling that he was definitely and royally screwed. It was such a pervading sensation it seemed that his perpetual inherent fear would cause him to freeze up at a critical moment. Silently he prayed he wouldn't. The walls were covered with curtains and tapestries showing the history of dragon-kind, including the rise and successes of the dragoness' own empire in the highlands of Brackenwaif. That the Amazonian dragoness had singled him out of a handful of others to be taken to her home came as surprise enough, but it was less astonishing than the purpose for which she'd brought him here.

The servants had encircled him at the public bath-house, their brown homespun cloaks giving them an air of menace. And indeed they were dangerous. Anyone who'd ever angered the dragoness knew firsthand how she dealt with traitors or ambitious would-be usurpers.

Silently they had led him towards the storm-enshrouded castle the dragoness claimed as her keep, faces hidden by the cowls of their cloaks. Looking to the soft soil underfoot, Slair had noticed that they had left no footprints behind, and their cloaks didn't even billow as they moved.

Slair fingered the Zippo lighter attached to the hank of knotted and re-knotted leather that hung around his neck for luck, for hope that he'd done nothing to anger the ruler of the region. By themselves, torches hung on brackets flared to life, startling the hyena to his feet. The tall, wide oaken doors at the far end of the large, quiet, cavernous chamber opened, revealing the silhouette of the intimidating dragoness, framed by the orange glow of a torch following along in her wake, floating in mid-air.

Unconsciously staring, Slair's mouth hung open, his eyes flaring wide in awe. Lowering his ears and bowing his head as the dragoness entered the chamber, the hyena whimpered in fear. She wore a robe much like those worn by her servants, unseen as they were. It seemed to fit her form, he noticed. Dominaratal had an hourglass figure, a lovely and alluring sight for a dragoness. She towered a full two feet above the six-foot-tall hyena, adding to the physical appeal she presented in her strong-willed demeanor. She growled, moving in front of the fireplace, turning her back to the guest whose attention she so easily captivated. Clasping her hands at the small of her back, long, sinuous tail swishing back and forth under her robe, she pondered for a few moments, staring into the red-hot coals of the fireplace.

Slair stared helplessly. Doubt and abject terror filled him. She would kill him, he knew if for no other reason than on a mere whim. And he would be able to do nothing to stop her. Dominaratal is a learned and skilled sorceress, a master of all kinds of dark and forbidden arts. Slair is a mere thief and conniver, and, an inherent coward of course. The dragoness would kill him, probably banish him to a lower Pit of the Hells, and be done with him for all eternity.

An uncomfortable silence grew, and still Slair admired the dragoness' shock of pure white hair nestled between her backwards-seeping horns and arrayed on her shoulders and down her back almost to the base of her spine. There, his eyes locked in another stare at her wide hips. They were far too wide for him to even measure, but he guessed they were as wide as his arm from wrist to shoulder. He only guessed what her legs looked like, joining the expanse of her bottom in a muscled and powerful pair of thighs that could break a horse in half with one powerful squeeze. And her tail, sprouting gracefully from her lower back, as long as he was tall, would be white on the underside, Dominaratal's deep purple scales lightening to the pale color of ivory.

There his thoughts were interrupted by a harsh pressure in his head, and his frame shook a little as he noticed that the dragoness had turned slowly from the fire, and was favoring him an indiscernible expression on her lovely draconic facial features. Slair could only guess by the feeling of pressure in his head and the light in her commanding golden eyes that it was anger. Pursing the lips of her beak-tipped muzzle she regarded the hyena with as much scrutiny as he a moment ago gave her gracefully powerful form.

"Slair...Mongrel...." she murmured in her deep-contralto voice, remembering or perhaps recalling through her craft the hyena's last name. "It is not an improper surname for a thief. Not to mention a hyena." She spoke with a veneer of disdain, letting a sneer come to her muzzle. Slair sunk lower into the overstuffed chair in shame. Hyenas are of the reputation of sneaks and notorious liars, and Slair knew this would be no different from any other instance of condemnation. But it would be worse since it is coming from the tyrannical dragoness. Painful torture would be preferable to the punishment she could concoct for any transgression she thought he had committed. Slair was resigned to his fate.

"I have reason to believe that you have been harboring dangerous thoughts, Mongrel," she murrumbled threateningly. She paced in front of the fireplace, her footsteps slow and deliberate, the sound her toe-talons tapping sharply on the stone floor. "You have been thinking impure thoughts, Slair. This displeases me. This displeases me greatly."

The hyena shivered inwardly, worried instantly, not because she thought he'd committed an act he'd not actually done, but for something he'd thought. And also became utterly terrified. There was no way she could learn of his secret inner-thoughts, or of the dark and evilly secret imaginings that only nights alone after long hours of avoiding notice could justify. It was impossible. Unless....

"You're bluffing," he rasped, low but clearly. The dragoness' eyes narrowed and she rumbled angrily. "I haven't done anything to show I would be capable of subterfuge. I may be a coward, but I'm not a fool. So you have to be bluffing." Dominaratal squared her shoulders, pushing her considerable chest out proudly.

"You are a liar, Mongrel. Your thoughts have betrayed you. I know you harbor within your soul a dark ideal of me." She reached up and pressed a pair of talon-tipped fingers against her left temple and closed her eyes, concentrating. "Even now you think of your inner designs. It could prove dangerous. Dangerous not only to your continued existence but to my position among my subordinates, and this I will not suffer." Slair raised his ears, trying to listen for any sign of a voice reaching the dragoness' better-skilled senses. There was nothing, not a murmur. Dominaratal lowered her hand, and looked at the hyena again, evenly and without emotion, detached of all feeling one way or the other.

To his peril, Slair arrogantly raised his head, wishing the ruler of the region would simply stop beating around the bush and slay him if that was what she meant. He may be an inherent coward, but he'd rather meet his death head-on than cowering or begging for leniency. Death is not the thing that Slair fears. The loneliness beyond the ring of evil fire that marks death is. The eternal quiet, the unsympathetic, painful solitude of the Pits where not even one's own voice gives comfort brings to him considerable sadness.

Crossing his arms, straightening his back, the hyena asked. "What do you plan to do with me, then?" Dominaratal ignored Mongrel's question but turned back to face the fireplace. She shook with reserved laughter, Slair thought.

Oh yes, he thought. It is to be to the Pits with me....

Out of sight the dragoness' hand reached up to the clasp at the neck of her cloak, fingering the dark green stone of the brooch carved to resemble a knot of coiling and knotting serpents, the dragoness' symbol. She slowly took in a breath and held it in for a span of moments. Again she shook, her shoulders heaving up and in in the way Slair thought of as her cruel laughter.

"Your fate does not ultimately reside within the Pits, Mongrel," she murred , her voice seeming to promise eons of something worse than damnation if that is possible. Light shone on her purple scales, making Slair deeply regret that this would be the last time he would be seeing them. Resignation again filled him, but his pride would not flee.

"If you're going to have me put to death for whatever it is you think I did--"

"How long have you wanted to fuck me, Mongrel?" Dominaratal asked without turning, shocking the hyena with her candor and frankness. Slair struggled to gather his voice for a return.

"I don't know --"

"Don't insult me by feigning ignorance Mongrel. I know you've thought about it." The dragoness turned on one foot, glaring at the hyena. "I knew you'd thought about it since you came into the region. I could feel your mind, since you first saw me, when I had Adjutant Graf executed that day. You wanted me. Are you so arrogant as to think you would pass my notice?" Slair was put aback. He remembered that day well.

There was the sound of the executioner's axe falling, the sound of the blade biting into flesh, and that of a griffon's head falling into a wicker basket. There was the spatter and scent of fresh blood, and the cries of the eager zealots before the viewing platform. Slair, no stranger to seeing the ruthless killing those ambitious enough to stand in their way, wiped the sweat from his face. He turned and saw for the first time the personal palanquin of Dominaratal Shadescale, undisputed ruler of the highlands, and the dragoness who sat within. Then the dreams began invading his sleep, the feeling of coming in contact with her aura in the realms beyond conscious speculation. And of course the fantasies....

Dominaratal flicked him sharply across the muzzle, drawing him out of the forbidden reverie. She raised an eye ridge, crossing once again to the fireplace and waving a hand at the embers which flared to renewed life, creating a brighter atmosphere to the former dimness of the dragoness' audience-chamber. An anger rose within the hyena, and he gave it a voice.

"If you mean to kill me, do so," he said, bravely, arrogantly parting his thin coat to reveal the hilt of a dagger nestled in a sheath under his arm. "But I'll not give you the satisfaction of seeing me beg for mercy."

Dominaratal raised her hand and his knife flew from its place into her waiting grip. Sweetly and with a hint of amusement in her voice she said, "Don't think that you can threaten me, Slair. I am far beyond you in every way." The hyena looked back at her, frowning, letting the lapel of his coat fall closed again.

"Just thought I should show at least a little bravery in my life before I died," he said flatly. "I would've thought you'd respect me for it." Dominaratal murred softly, shaking her head and chuckling, eyes slipping closed to slits of bright golden color.

"I told you that your fate does not lie in the Pits, as you believe, Slair Mongrel," she purred, her voice so soft it was almost inaudible above the crackle of the fire. Slair sneered at the dragoness.

"What, you've thought of a fate more horrible and fitting?" He asked, tiring of this game. "What is it? Will it be an upside-down evisceration or perhaps burning alive from within?" Dominaratal pressed her lips together, closing towards him while drawing her hands deeper into the sleeves of her robe. Again she turned her back on him, a mere few feet from him. With a leap he could be on her and have his hands around her throat in less time it would take her to draw breath. Another deep feeling of pressure in his mind restrained him, the sensation that she would be able to respond much quicker than he. Slair simply sat, waiting for the blast of magical fires to begin welling up and devouring him from within.

Moments passed without a single word or move from either of them. In disbelief Dominaratal shook her head again. How could the hyena be so resolute in thinking he was to die for her entertainment when he could serve a greater purpose?

Still facing away from the hyena, she unclasped the brooch at the throat of her robe, and let it down her body. She was as he had imagined; the deep purple, rhombus-shaped, sleek scales shining softly in the light of the fire, invitingly supple-looking. She wore black lace stockings that ended just below the tops of her thighs, the flowery lines Slair immediately wanted to kiss and press his nose to. Snug open-toed leather boots came up to her knees, buckles hugging them firmly to her powerful legs. A pubic thatch of white hair the exact same shade as the shock between her horns was thick between her legs, so full and thickly grown that the color of her scales could not be seen through it. Her breasts were almost as large as the hyena's head, the thick, purple-as-black-colored nipples tipped with thick drops of milk. Inhaling, Slair smelled the drips, his mouth instantly watering in the desire to taste her cream. He wondered instantly what her milk tasted like, sweet or plain or even like nectar.

Slair cried out harshly as his body shook at the sight of the Amazonian dragoness, a noise of seeming outrage. Slair's body jerked rhythmically until his breath slowed again, his trousers tented and becoming slick from a sudden and unexpected orgasm at seeing Dominaratal this way.

She smiled, feeling through the empathy inherent in psionsics the lust and bodily need the hyena suddenly felt for her. It made her feel powerful, in control, as her desire to hold sway over beings had long ago instilled in her the need to dominate. She slowly leaned over, bent almost double to lean her muzzle close to his, placing a small kiss on his cheek.

I told you your fate was not in the Pits, Mongrel... she sent to his mind. Turning towards the chamber door, she motioned for him to rise and follow in her wake, her tail waving back and forth playfully, sometimes lifting to give him a sinfully sweet glimpse of the fat lips of her pubic mound and the star-shaped pucker of her tail hole.

Following, Slair's eyes slipped to the shining light of dark vision, but still he could not see too well. Telepathically, Dominaratal sent him instructions on where and when to turn or step over a loose stone. In a matter of minutes the corridor lightened again, a soft brightness coming from a tall doorway. "This is the entrance to my personal bed-chambers, Slair. No one from outside has ever been here," she purred, her voice echoing back to him and seeming full of her typical hauteur. "Consider yourself lucky."

Very lucky.... the hyena sent to her in a sort of stupor. What I need to know is--

"Shut up." She interrupted him, not unkindly, "Don't ask why. Don't look a gift-mount in the mouth."

"Yes ma'am," he muttered obediently. She drew him with a mental command into her boudoir; dozens of candles sat with wicks blazing all around the plush-carpeted room, surrounding the immense four-poster bed with a gentle glow, and sticks of cinnamon-scented incense burned in censors at the four posts of Dominaratal's bedchamber.

The dragoness moved towards her bed, lying propped up on her elbows, the tip of her tail flicking back and forth like a conductor's baton. A satisfied, amused smile crept across her muzzle. Slair stood a few yards from her bed, staring.

"Well?" Dominaratal said. Slair snapped out of the far-and-away.

"Huh?" He blurted. The dragoness chuckled softly.

"Now that you have what you've wanted most for as long as you've been in Brackenwaif," she mused, "You don't know what to do? That is very amusing." She waved a hand, and Slair felt more than heard a series of snaps all over his clothes which fell in pieces to the floor. He struggled to cover himself, feeling the warmth of the room on his unclothed fur. Dominaratal scrutinized him as much as he had of her in his imagination.

"Don't," she commanded when he tried to tie a length of his torn coat around his waist. "Drop it. I've given you a look, and now you owe me as much." With a nervous swallow the hyena did so, lowering his ears and averting his eyes, feeling the dragoness' gaze traverse the wiry-muscled lines of his own body. She sent her approval and a soft murrumble to him, but still he burned with embarrassment. Dominaratal chuckled.

"You're so shy, Slair," she said, making a play of crossing and uncrossing her long, powerfully-muscled legs just to make him squirm. "You have the bravery to think of doing unspeakable things to me and yet you can't stand to be thought of in such a way in return. You are an enigma, Mongrel."

The hyena bowed his head as if admonished, though the dragoness was more mirthful than reproachful. "Look at me when I talk to you boy," she commanded firmly. Slowly his ears lowered flat against his head and he looked up. Dominaratal had laid back, one arm over her head, the other resting on her chest below the full mounds of her milk-dripping breasts. A small flare of heat centered in his lower stomach burned, and he strained to keep from reacting, reaching up to calmly push a strand of his neck-length, golden-brown hair away from his face.

"You want me," the dragoness said, not a question. Slair nodded, hating the fact that she was making him admit it, that she had ways of making him tell the truth.

"Then stop lying to yourself," she told him, "Don't assume that if something is in front of you, something rare, that it is untouchable. You can have anything you want if you set your will to it, Mongrel." She sent him a compulsion, the command to approach. His traitorous legs moved, his body rebelling, reacting, his penis rising from the forced flaccid state he'd tried to keep himself under.

"Even me."

"Yes ma'am," he whispered, both in rapture and abject fear. The dragoness reached out a hand to him as he neared, sliding her large, talon-tipped fingers over the fur of his lower stomach when he kneeled on the satin covers beside her.

"What do you want, Slair?" she asked, softly, her golden eyes extending her strong will to him, commanding him silently to speak his words. The hyena spoke without hesitation, without feeling abashed that he was so close to the naked goddess of his darkest dreams, and had an embarrassing erection to boot.

"...to do unspeakable things to you...." he husked. Dominaratal smiled widely, spreading her legs and opening her arms, welcoming him to her inner sanctum of trust.

The male hyena leaned down against her body, partaking of the sweet and smoky musk she exuded. Dominaratal guided Slair to a milk-dripping nipple which he instantly latched onto, suckling the dragoness' breast as a hungry wyrmling would. The dragoness crooned, rubbing Slair's speckle-furred shoulders, sending to his mind the permission to gently bite. The hyena gladly did so, alternately nibbling on the finger-thick nipple and sucking mouthfuls of her cream, pressing his erection against her upper thigh and whimpering in need. Dominaratal began playing with herself, rubbing, pressing, and parting her cuntlips, pinching the fat outer folds between her talon-tips and grunting to the hyena writhing against her as she breastfed him.

The dragoness' cream was thick and sweet, filling him up and giving the feeling of contentment, of grogginess, but fortunately her sharp and deep-voiced cries left in him the promise of other delights. Dominaratal lifted his head with a palm under his chin and moved his mouth to the other full breast, where he suckled just as hungrily. Slair rubbed his hands up under the pliant mounds and down her flat, toned stomach, one hand joining hers at her pubic thatch, fingers seeking out the moist inner folds, drawing from the dragoness a low, murring groan as she ground her pussy against his joining hand.

"Such a hungry Mongrel," between breaths said she, stroking his head fur. She lifted the leg the hyena had straddled, rubbing her knee against his raging cock. "And a horny one, too. You filthy-minded thief." Slair at last drained the last of her milk, drawing off the nipple but licking and nibbling at it, ears laid back at her mocking words.

Another compulsion from the dragoness had him kneeling at the head of the bed while she lay on her stomach, rubbing his thighs towards his cock. The hyena clenched his hands at his sides when she grabbed his length, pressing the tip of her beak to his ball sac, squeezing him just below where his knot would expand.

Dominaratal inhaled the hyena's slight scent, murring a breath over his length that made him whimper again, a sound that assured the dragoness that she was in control of his actions. With a grin she opened her maw, releasing another hot breath, extending her long serpentine tongue, its forked tip coiling once and twice more around Slair's thickness. The hyena whined in painful ecstasy, tilting his hips forward eagerly. The dragoness played with him awhile; tightening the hold her tongue had around his member like a python constricting its coils, wiggling her butt a little out behind her, pushing her head forth until Slair's cocktip barely touched her lips and drawing away again.

For the hyena it was sweet torture, as for the dragoness it was merely play, teasing to incite him to beg direly for relief. A few more squeezes and Slair's hands came up to rest on her horns while he tried to thrust into her muzzle.

"Please...please, I can't stand it...please suck..." He murmured and closed his eyes as a flush lit his face. "Please suck my cock...." He turned his head away with eyes still shut, ashamed of being forced to admit such a desire. Dominaratal let her eyes appear angry, though the thought she sent only felt to him as if she was.

I did not give you permission to touch me, Mongrel.

He reacted as if burned, eyes opening wide and ears down, fearing her wrath. Instead, she engulfed his cock with her muzzle, murring noisily, sucking on him as eagerly as he had of her milk. Her tail swishing in a wide arc, Slair again touched her horns, pushing his hips forward each time she engulfed his cock.

The dragoness let him build up a rhythm, coiling her tongue tighter around his girth when she pulled her mouth off him, giving a little thrumming murr as he hilted in her muzzle. His whimpers melted into quiet grunts and his thrusts became unconsciously more forceful. Dominaratal gave a mental smile, coiling her tongue excruciatingly tight around Slair's cock and letting the length free of her mouth. The hyena whimpered, trying to inch forward on his knees to seek the warmth of her muzzle, but a firm thought from her restrained him. He felt vulnerable kneeling there, with an aching erection and the fading sensations of near-orgasm making him quiver all over.

The dragoness commanded him to stay absolutely still, not even to touch himself. She twisted around so her bottom faced him while she lay with her chest on a pile of pillows. One hand came down the middle of her legs, spreading her 'lips, revealing the light-lavender color of her inner folds, sending Slair into shudders, his cock dribbling a stream of precum onto the satin coverlet. She lifted her tail, a wonderful invitation if not for the standing mental command to stay still.

Dominaratal fingered her thick-coated sex with a pair of fingers, grabbing her butt with a free hand and wriggling her hips in glee of both physical kind and in sadistic kind from torturing the hyena. His pained whimpers were music to her ears, and she could feel the tremors in the bed's springs from his shivers.

I know you want to mount up, you little bitch, she sent. But you will not. Her tail came to his muzzle, poking his nose teasingly and making him chuff a sneeze, which was uncomfortable enough whilst sporting a hard-on. Slair stared at the expanse of her hips longingly, humping the air and licking his lips. Her thatch was becoming slick and juicy from her self-ministrations, her scent a sickly-sweet mélange in his nose.

Need began to overwhelm him as he watched the dragoness play with herself in front of him, mocking his every thought with images, visions of things forbidden him. Dominaratal ground her palm against her sex, her murring moan almost too much for Slair to handle. He watched in fascination while an aching throb from his cock forced a loud moan from him as he struggled to keep his hands at his sides.

Dominaratal fingered herself, her ass wiggling more and more with each passing moment, her scent reaching even her own attuned senses. Again she sent the hyena a thought. He moved toward her with an eager light in his eyes and kneeled forward as she lifted her tail over his head, and she felt his tongue moving around her pucker, lifting her butt towards his muzzle.

"That's right, little bitch," she murred, putting a hand on the back of his head and pressing his muzzle deep between the purple full-moons of her bum. "Lick Mommy's asshole. Lick it like a good boy and Mommy with treat you nice."

Slair could just barely taste her vaginal juices, but that was merely the icing on the cake. The hyena enjoyed every moment of licking her anus, around in clockwise and counter-so circles, poking his tongue tip at the star's center and feeling its slight give. She dragoness quivered, fingering her sex swiftly now, her head arching back on her long and graceful neck as she bared her teeth a little with every passing moment.

Slair was unaware of the dragoness' mounting climax, was centered only on the task at hand and gleefully carrying it out; lapping furiously at her tail hole, kissing the pucker and sucking the tight ring with his lips, forgetting for the moment about his own still-throbbing problem. Dominaratal pulled his head-fur hard, drawing both his muzzle up and his attention.

"Mount up, you bitch," she snarled. "And I'd better fucking well cum hard!"

That was all it took. Slair was on his knees again, nestling behind the wide-hipped dragoness, grasping her waist, thrusting his hips forth and missing the entrance to her sex in his eagerness. Taking a slower approach, he glided into her folds, feeling the slick velvet of her, the bramble of her pure white pubic thatch against his fur.

He pounded his hips back and forth, fast and hard, grunting aloud in his exertions. Dominaratal was silent a moment then squealed out loud, pushing back at the hyena furiously, and Slair could feel her sex convulsing to grip his shaft firmly, milking him for everything. He doubled his efforts, pounding more hard and deeply into the dragoness' pussy.

Dominaratal's tail curled around Slair's hip and between his legs, the thinner tip pressing up into his ball sac, reaching deep to manipulate his prostate. The hyena snarled as his claws dug into her scales, the wet slapping of their meeting hip; the only noise besides the dragoness' own near-feral cries drowning out every other sound. The dragoness bucked beneath him, and she sent him yet another mental command, which despite his dire need for release he was glad to acquiesce.

Dominaratal turned to lie on her back and Slair straddled her tail while she lifted and pressed her legs together, the hyena sliding his cock in the slit between her thighs just above the hemlines of her lace stockings. Slair held her calves up and fucked the inside of her legs, his cock sliding along the folds of her sex, rubbing along a clitoris as big around as the hyena's ring finger. Again the dragoness' tail curled around his hips, pulling him deeper against her with every thrust.

Dominaratal sucked the fingers of the hand she'd fingered herself with, the other squeezing the mound of one breast, pinching a dark-purple nipple between talon-tips. She crooned in delight, squeezing her thighs together, feeling her lower belly being covered with the mix of Slair's precum and her own dripping sex.

Slair was so intent on rutting the dragoness' thighs that he didn't hear it when she let out a deep-voiced bellow, but felt it deep in his chest like a change of air-pressure, the strength in her flexing legs grasping his cock in a vice grip. He felt a snap inside his stomach, like a lead weight being pulled out of him through his cock and let out a ululating bay as his spend spattered all up Dominaratal's stomach to her heaving breasts.

The dragoness had clawed long tears in the satin sheets, and Slair's come had slid over her scales and made a mess of them. Slair gasped while holding her legs together against him, settling back onto his haunches. His mouth was dry and the breath seemed to constrict in his chest. His semen glistened on Dominaratal's scales, which the dragoness touched with a finger and brought to her mouth, sucking it clean. She spread her powerful legs again and Slair kneeled down without being commanded and lapped the mess from her stomach.

She rubbed him behind the ears and still gathering her breath, the dragoness said, "Good boy, Mongrel. Sleep. You're tired." She nuzzled the top of his head, murring deeply. The hyena lie against her a moment longer before moving down to curl up at the foot of the bed. It just seemed the appropriate thing to do. Sleep overtook him after a few moments, and no dream marred the euphoria of such an interesting orgasm.