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There was a little village nestled in a ridge between a group of low-lying hills and a nearby forest, one rich in lumber, game, and small freshwater ponds for fishing, sheltered from the sun by the thick overhead canopy. Only after the village had first been established and settled, though, did the inhabitants learn that all of these weren’t the only things that the forest hid from them: dragons were known to lurk in the further reaches of it as well, four-legged drakes that ranged in size from that of a small child to two or three times the height of a full-grown human adult.

Other kinds of dragons were known elsewhere around the land, but after the initial panic of a hunter almost shooting one by accident - the arrow’s flight was stopped by the creature’s thick scales - it was discovered that the ones living in this particular forest maintained a fairly solitary and peaceful relationship with the nearby humans, only attacking if someone strayed too far into their territory or threatened one of them.

This was exactly why Garmin, villager, craftsman, had no worry or fear when he went out one autumn morning to gather more firewood from the forest. There was always lots to do in a small village, especially one that often served as a stop for travelling merchants, so it was something that he both intended and prepared to undertake on his own, which also meant it would likely count for a whole day’s work with many breaks in between as well. He knew the location of a clean spring relative to the area he usually entered the forest for when he got thirsty, which undoubtedly would happen along the course of the day; he could also stop in for a quick swim, too, as he predicted he would get hot even on a fairly cool day like this.

This forest stood a bit of a distance away from the village, one long enough that Garmin ended up having to switch the shoulder on which he rested his axe three or four times before he could see the first of the line of trees. It was far enough away that, were anything unfortunate to happen to him, nobody back home would notice unless they came out here as well. He figured it wasn’t too smart to go alone, but he’d made this trip once every other week for the past couple years, and nothing had happened in that time.

And at first, nothing seemed to be too out of the ordinary. Garmin descended the last hill overlooking the forest with ease, again shifted the axe on his shoulder, and prepared to bring it down so he could more easily maneuver between some of the closer-knit trees. After all of this, he thought, I’ll head home and check the stew I put on this morning - a wonderful collection of things, made out of fresh beef from the neighbor, potatoes imported from another province, carrots he’d grown behind his house -

Garmin was so involved in thinking about his dinner tonight that he didn’t hear the sounds of quiet footsteps in the short grass behind him, and as such couldn’t prepare or anticipate the sudden contact of something on his back pushing him down. He shouted out and tried to put his arms out to break his fall, but instead just ended up flinging the axe about a foot and a half away while his chest scraped against the hard earth with his head soon to follow.

A little dazed following the sudden fall, at first he couldn’t understand why he was unable to get back up even though he tried. Then, as the throbbing pain on the right side of his forehead started to fade somewhat - gods, that’d hurt the following morning - Garmin became steadily more aware of how the weight on his upper back had yet to be lifted. In fact, that weight felt like it came from two sources, one on either shoulder blade - and each of those sources had an elongated shape, with some number of points at one end… in fact, they felt like…

Heart suddenly beating quite a bit faster, Garmin tried to reach out to grasp some part of the axe, but couldn’t quite do it - and each time he moved too much, an ominous low growl rumbled a little distance above his head like the sound of the earth groaning under its own weight. Already he knew just what sort of situation he was in, but he didn’t want to believe it until he saw it; so, of course, he obstinately refused to lift his head higher than a few inches off the ground, because past there it looked like it was something black and scaly holding him down.

If he screamed or shouted for help, he had no doubt that one of those feet holding him down would quickly silence him. So, instead, he just continually tried - and continually failed - to grasp at the handle of the axe, which felt to get a little further away the more he needed it. But - just what would he do with it in this position? If a dragon’s scales couldn’t be pierced by an arrow that would have killed almost anything else…

Thank the gods, though; just as Garmin was steeling himself to make another attempt at getting up, the weight on his back lifted and he felt the two feet step off of his shoulders. He seized his sudden opportunity, rolling over onto his back and then scrambling away closer to the axe, more for his own comfort than anything - but, right as he managed to close one of his hands around the base of the handle, the dragon above him swung around so that its tail flicked around near his head. A strong back leg settling into the earth just under his shoulder caused him to lose hold of the axe again, especially with one of the dragon’s claws digging into his side.

Garmin struggled and tried to move, but a firm tugging on his shoe prevented him from moving. Through the dragon’s legs (and continuously moving his head to avoid getting thwacked by the large tail), he could see sharp yellowish-white teeth chewing on the end of his shoe… deer leather moccasins, a pair he’d just made earlier in the week. Was that why this beast jumped on him? Because he smelled like deer?

Oh, thank the gods, he thought again, and briefly wriggled around to kick off first one shoe and then the other. Really, he should have known: dragons are only known for playing with their prey after taking that prey to their den. If a dragon attacked and didn’t kill someone after multiple opportunities to do, it was much more likely than not that that person would live on to see another day, unless they died of shock or something.

These dragons had some manner of intelligence, too. Garmin lay his head back on the grass, eyes closed so he wouldn’t have to continue staring at the dragon rump a good foot and a half above his head, waiting for this big beast to finish gnawing on his shoes. Their intelligence wasn’t quite enough to grant sentience, but it seemed damn close: scholars and researchers had clearly determined that the dragons were as conscious as humans and acted in much the same ways, and hybrid offspring (as in, the children of dragons who had kidnapped and claimed humans as playthings) perhaps operated on an even higher mental level than their human brethren. Garmin had known one of these humanoid dragons before-

Cool scales suddenly pressed against the side of his face, and he opened his eyes to see that dragon rump much, much closer than he remembered it being, close enough so that he could feel the overlap of the scales and the gentle heat emanating from the dragon’s tailhole, against his face right above the corner of his mouth. He spluttered and tried to move his head away, but - he doubted that this dragon even noticed his struggling, because if anything, that rump only pressed down more firmly on him. Still he could feel its head and neck occasionally brush against his foot or leg while it played with his shoes, but - as for everything else… his senses gradually became more and more consumed by the scent of dragon.

As a hunter a few months out of the year, Garmin knew fully well that some beasts carried on them a particular scent, a kind of musk, that allowed the skilled to easily recognize it. Dragons were one of these. They had a strong, powerful scent despite their reptilian nature, something that anyone kidnapped by one would firmly attest to. Here, Garmin felt the truth of that fact firsthand, as each of the dragon’s little movements shifted the flesh of its pucker closer to his nose and mouth. Certainly the scent of a predator, and one that made the much-smaller human shiver all over - a dragon’s scent could only be picked up from areas of revealed flesh, which again were usually only known by those who had been kidnapped. He could easily smell it for himself here, though, and it…

...it was… somewhat pleasurable, perhaps. Within a matter of seconds Garmin had forgotten whether he was continually trying to move his head to evade either the unpleasantness of having a dragon rump on his face, or his own curiosity to learn a little more about the scent that washed into his nose. Rich, spicy, almost intoxicating… dragons maintained their status as top-tier predators even with such a strong scent simply because that scent only leaked out of so few places, two of which could be found quite close together on the lower underside of the body.

The kidnapped always reported at first disliking the scent but then quickly getting used to it and even desiring it, to the point where some researchers theorized that it had mind-altering capabilities. Garmin could understand a little bit of this, especially as he finally gave in: he brought his hands up, one on either side of the dragon’s tailhole, and pushed up a little just so he could shift his head back to center, so he could lean up and brush the tip of his nose over a spot on the scales just below the tight pucker of flesh. He closed his eyes and breathed in, breathed the heavy musk and again shivered, though this time for a different reason.

He wondered if this was how most of the kidnapped came to enjoy their captivity. Somehow a small number of them managed to overcome the mind-altering capabilities of a dragon’s scent (if that part of it were true) and instead enforced their own influence over the beast, effectively turning the tables and becoming the warden for their own prison - dragon riders, these few were called, probably not for the actions that occurred inside the recesses of the dragon’s cave but for a more obvious and less salacious reason. It was an old practice as well as one that had mostly died out long ago, as human culture changed and started to frown on interbreeding between species - since such a relationship almost guaranteed a sexual side as well, with the rider-dragon pairs capable of it usually having offspring of their own.

It seemed dragons had no preference in choosing between male or female humans to serve them, or whom to serve. Garmin thought about this as he drew his nose further down, down across the break where tough scales gave way to softer ridged flesh and where the scent strengthened. It would be unfortunate if this one in particular decided to carry him off, as he’d rather not have twenty inches of dragon flesh in his rump - but… certainly by now he should have started to feel the captivating effects of the musk, wouldn’t he? Especially considering how he had thoroughly buried his nose against that scent’s source and breathed deeply in multiple times, more than when he travelled to this province’s capital to visit the spice fair - in fact, the dragon’s musk reminded him of that, though certainly with different undertones.

It felt like the dragon had mostly bored of playing with his shoes, but - I’m not done yet, Garmin thought, and before he knew what he was doing, had set his lips against the dragon’s tailhole in a sort of carnal kiss. Instantly all motion from the drake stopped, probably out of simple surprise; Garmin curled his lips in a faint smile and then slid his tongue into the ‘kiss’, tracing it over the firm ridges of puckered flesh and pressing it against the center where resistance was the weakest. Still the scent lingered strongly in his nostrils, and now that he had the physical taste on his tongue as well, it seemed only stronger, more powerful, more wonderful… he was glad that this took place so far from the village, because out here he felt no pressure against taking pleasure in the scent and taste of the dragon’s rump.

This was all a guilty pleasure, sure, and one that Garmin had had no idea about. The dragon shifted and spread its back legs as if it enjoyed having the human’s lips and tongue against its tailhole, just as Garmin enjoyed the act itself; slowly, gradually, he managed to pull himself up into a sitting position so he could more easily dig his tongue into the warm flesh, with the dragon moving forward and lifting its rump to accommodate him.

He’d always wondered if dragons were warm-blooded, having never spoken to two researchers who agreed on the matter; now, though, he could easily tell, as sweet moist heat superior to that of his own mouth surrounded and squeezed around his tongue, and then even more so as he wriggled it further in. For some reason, Garmin no longer felt too worried about being pinned to the ground by a big drake just earlier; now the beast had its rump lifted into the air for his tongue and its head lowered down close to the ground, scaly neck against the side of his leg.

He couldn’t tell if it was the clear body language or something else, but now Garmin could tell that this dragon had no intent at all of frightening or eating him - and then after feeling the human’s lips and tongue on its tailhole, that innocent playfulness had melded into something with a much more sexual tone to it. Of course the human, tongue-deep in dragon rump, felt it too; now that he was sitting up of his own accord, he could reach one hand down to rub himself through his pants. Whenever he drew his tongue back in the slightest, the dragon responded by in turn pressing its rump back against his mouth and face, again reinforcing the scent of musk in his nose.

He couldn’t quite explain it even to himself, but it felt like… like this act served to attune him to the dragon, to open a window into the beast’s thoughts and feelings for him. Perhaps this was the mind-controlling part of the dragon’s scent that was finally taking effect, but… it was odd: Garmin still felt fully in control of his own actions and thoughts, and in fact felt as if it was the other way around, like it was him taking control of the dragon, or least getting somehow closer to it…

Garmin closed his eyes and brought his other hand up along the dragon’s belly, feeling for the genital slit; however, a cock already hard and dripping a little brushed against the side and back of this hand when he had moved it up enough. It was strange: he could definitely pick up feelings and intentions from the dragon’s mind, as well as little fragments that wove together to make loose words in his mind - please and want and serve. The human brought his tongue out of the depths of the beast and into his mouth briefly, then flicked it back out and swirled it around the rim of the dragon’s tailhole; this brought on more fragments of want and desire and please, especially this last one.

This, of course, gave him an idea. Still the weight of the front of the dragon’s body held down his legs, and he didn’t have much room to rub at himself through his pants - so he planted another kiss against the periodically clenching and loosening tailhole, dragged his nose up towards the base of the tail, and then issued a command through his mind: Get up.

Nothing happened at first, but just as he prepared to try again, the large beast did as asked: it shivered a little, drew itself up to all fours, shivered again, and looked back at Garmin with bright yellow-amber eyes the likes of which he’d never before seen so closely. This huge dragon looked almost like one of the livestock animals back in the village, docilely waiting for direction or instruction - and this time it was Garmin who was in control. Maybe it was too early to think about, but he could definitely make a sort of harness and reins to go with this dragon… just imagine how everyone else in the village would react if he came back from his firewood expedition riding a dragon-

-riding a dragon. Long-dead tradition of a few select people who could turn around the dragon’s mind control capabilities and instead found themselves in control. Could it be…?

He looked around before standing up and fiddling with the fastenings of his pants, then put one hand out against the dragon’s scaly hide for balance. Present yourself to me, beast, he willed; a second later the dragon again lowered its head to the ground along with the front half of its body but kept its rear and tail raised in the air, tailhole in full view and easy access for Garmin. Saliva dripped down out and around it, down towards the beast’s length, where it mixed with clear pre. The dragon actually had its chin lowered to the grass and dirt, showing full submission; it twitched a little when Garmin came forward and placed his hands on either side of its rump, rubbing the head of his hard cock against the slickened tailhole.

You are mine.

The dragon’s eyes drifted closed as the human first began to push into it - which also sent a light shiver through him as well. Never before had he done anything of this sort with a beast like this, and… gods, not even a full inch in and he could already tell why those who had lain with dragons hardly ever returned to sexual contact with other humans. The sensation, the heat, the moisture… Garmin had no hard time finding somewhere to grip onto along the dragon’s sides, what with all of the overlapping scales, while he continually sank into the beast.

Out here in the open, sure, he had a chance of being seen, but that didn’t really matter to him right now. Nothing did other than this dragon and the pleasure he felt, as well as the heavy scent that still lingered on his upper lip and was brought back in full force each time he inhaled - the scent of dragon tailhole and of a musk that he now knew to be submissive to him. Of course being much larger than him, the dragon showed little discomfort when Garmin had hilted in it with its tail lifted against his belly and chest, but it still drew pleasure from being fucked as well, given the occasional clench and twitch the human felt around his length. He moved a hand down and lifted the tail a little more so he could get a good look at his cock, six-and-something inches inside a dragon’s rump, deeper than where his tongue had been just a few moments ago. Good.

If he made reins, he could easily make them long enough so he could tug the beast more firmly back against him while driving forward into it… for now, though, all he could do was grip onto tough scales and slowly piston his hips forward and back, forward and back against the cool underside and into the warm, warm interior of the dragon, moist and slick already from both saliva and natural lubrication. Maybe next time he’d learn just what a dragon’s tongue and maw felt like… if it was anything like the rump, then Garmin already knew where he’d get his future releases.

The size difference between the two made it so that Garmin had to will the dragon to lower its backside a little for him to be able to comfortably thrust in and out of it without having to stand up on his toes or hold on tightly for fear of losing his balance. Also thanks to that size difference, he could quickly get up to the speed he desired instead of having to wait for the dragon to become accustomed to his cock sinking in and sliding out of it; beside, he could just command the dragon to take the fucking like a good pet should. Already he didn’t have to tell it to enjoy it: even if he slowed or stopped his thrusts, the dragon picked up the rhythm and shifted back against him.

Please was broadcasted clearly into Garmin’s mind, stronger as he leaned in closer and thrust in further. Either as a plea or as an act, he was happy to oblige. Please and serve, again and again, and then maybe once something that felt a little bit like faster and harder. If he wanted to be a good caretaker, Garmin figured he should oblige his pet’s wishes and wants, and natural human interest demanded that those wants coincide with his own as well, which they did.

Already considerably worked up from sniffing and licking at the dragon, Garmin quickly felt his climax approaching, and as such slowed down - just as before, he wasn’t done yet. The dragon had a different idea, though, and before Garmin could issue the command to stop, the beast had already drawn forward and then pressed roughly back against the human, hard enough to briefly knock him off balance and then also push him over the edge of his pleasure, which shot through him in a few shuddering waves corresponding with each spurt of cum deep into the dragon. He wasn’t quite sure what was going through his thoughts, then, but his pet continued pushing back against him, squeezing each last drop of his load out while keeping its eyes on his face. Not only this, but Garmin could also feel periodic tight clenches around the base of his cock, accompanied by all-over shudders through the dragon

Panting afterwards, Garmin slid out and promptly fell back into the soft grass, quite exhausted. The dragon did not move, but rather lowered its rear down; Garmin looked up, saw the slick tailhole dripping now with his cum, and breathed a tired laugh. Streaked out across the ground under the dragon’s cock was a few ropes of cum, weighing down the grass - that must have been what he’d felt. I could get used to this.

This whole ‘dragon-rider’ mind control thing probably had its limits, though. After taking a moment to gather himself (even though he still shivered all over from the force of the orgasm), he managed to tug his pants back up his legs and hoist the axe back up onto his shoulder; after all, he’d originally set out to gather firewood, not fuck a dragon, and he felt that he wouldn’t be able to get this dragon to cut the wood for him.

He looked up at the beast, which in turn looked patiently down with him. “What am I going to do with you?” he murmured, more to himself than anything-

Keep, came the answer. Bright eyes slowly blinked. Use. Please.

Well, that was an option.