FSE

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His armor glimmered in the sunlight, polished steel made from a forge that was now very distant. His mace swayed in its hilt as he walked. His chestplate clanked as he walked down the cobblestone road. He had no steed to his name. Nor a home for that matter.

The landscape of West Prussia sprawled out around him, a lush green meadow that occupied the valley he'd entered.

Smack in the middle of this unnaturally empty expanse was a castle, its stone fresh and mossless. Its corner towers soared high, each sporting brown, tattered flags. No one walked the parapets, nor the walls, nor the entrance gate. There was not even mud or grass near the moat, which had surely dried up.

There was still a great distance between himself and the stronghold when he stopped. He tapped the hilt of his mace and looked around himself. The wind blew and had to step to keep his balance.

“Dear," he muttered.

A racket broke out, claws scraped, and a deep, far-carrying growl sounded. From over the front wall, a scaly, blue creature emerged, climbing up and perching. It was set on him. It was a brilliant blue, a bright shade, like the kind he'd seen on banners and flags, like the dresses of royal consorts.

His breath caught, but remembered he had an image to carry.

The dragon unfolded its wings and flapped once, launching into the air. It moved with a speed that defied its great size. He figured it was as big as a horse from the farms back West. These thoughts cleared out, however, when it began to fly down at him.

Backing away, he watched as it drew nearer and nearer, larger and larger until it was upon him. But he stood in place.

The ground shook as the dragon landed before him, its forepaws spread wide in a pouncing stance. Its wings flared up, and it bared its sharp teeth. It was as if he had brought a dragon hunter with him to warrant such a reaction.

I'm in the shit if this doesn't go right, aren't I?

“Come looking for Lord Holbein, have you knight? You'll find his skeleton in the throne room," the dragon snarled. Her voice gave her womanhood away.

“Ah!" the knight pointed a metal-clad finger up. “I have no idea who that is, but I am looking for a princess."

“There are no humans left here. That'll soon include yourself."

He shook his head. “Are you not the princess, madam?"

The dragoness squinted. “Me?"

Shifting, he placed both his hands over his hilt, as was the proper position for speaking to royalty. Or so he'd heard. “You look like a princess to me."

The dragoness rose and walked toward him, paw over paw. “Why have you come?"

“To get to know you, princess."

“I'm no princess to you, you fucking human swine." She brought her snout, with teeth on display, inches from his armet helm.

“Then… who are you?"

“Your end," she snarled, blowing smoke from her nostrils into his visor. “I've taken every hunter I've met, and you will be my next-"

“I'm Sibylle. Not from around here. Mind if we go inside? I've been cooking in the bloody sun all day and-

She moved, and before he could react everything had gone black inside his helm, but he felt hot breath wash through. He reached up and felt scales around his head. Oh. Before he could push away, his feet came off the ground, dangling in the air as his neck was strained fourfold.

The dragoness shook him like a dog with a rabbit in its jaws before flinging him to the dirt. He landed with a crash and clamor of platemail clanks. He let out a prompt groan.

Alright.

He got up with newfound haste, freeing his mace and holding it before him. Its end was a steel ball, adorned with spikes on every side. A morning star. The visual of her flexing her jaw with pained eyes was split by the handle.

“Fuckin' armor," she said.

Shaking her head, the dragoness fixed back on him. With little in the way of telegraphing, she lunged, a claw of unfurled talons swiping his way. With no shield to block it, he leapt to the side and swung for her head. She ducked and followed with another swipe. This one went under his mace and his arms, rending through his armor and cutting three gashes across his stomach. He went to double over from the pain that had freshly erupted, but stopped himself. His guard could not be let down twice. He forced himself to stand, but it took nearly all his focus for this task alone, much less trying to predict the dragoness's next move. His sight felt tunneled.

The dragoness only stayed away, waiting. She had the upper hand, and yet, had become less aggressive.

Fuck.

She knew the more time went by, the more blood he'd lose. She didn't have to do a thing, nor risk being struck.

With a staggering gait, he charged the beast. It moved with an agility that outclassed any human, dodging his blow. Only the blow never came. He had raised the mace over his shoulder, seeing where the dragoness was going, off to his right. Lifting his front leg, he leaned forward and used his body's momentum to throw his weapon right at the scaly beast. Before the dragoness could stop, her claws digging into the dirt, the ball of metal thorns crashed into her nose, the spikes breaking scales, and blood streamed from each nostril.

She was knocked back by the force on her head, completely disorienting her.

He ran to retrieve his weapon from the ground, but he fell to his side, blood beginning to trickle over his armor. His chainmail underneath felt wet. He thought he might puke from the pain alone.

Grabbing the handle, he raised the mace before him, fearing the dragoness's counter, the chance to kill him while he was down.

As she recovered, standing to pounce, her wings unfolded and flapped powerfully. Loose dirt scattered off his metal frame, and the dragoness had become airborne.

Cutting a path through the sky-blue, she flew with incredible speed over the towers before circling back around. Even though he couldn't see her eyes, he could feel those murderous, slitted pupils upon him. It was said that a dragon's eye was as sharp as an eagle's.

There was no use running, she could outpace him in any direction. Even the possible safety of the castle was too far. He stood in place, letting his morning star rest upon the earth, though he clutched his bleeding abdomen. In seconds she was upon him, and before she went overhead, he saw fire part her maw. The accompanying roar seemed to push the flames out with more volume, and he was swiftly engulfed. The sound was piercing, and distinct, and Sibylle thought it was beautiful.

In her wake dust blew, and the wind sang with her speed. Fire dotted the fresh grass around him, and it licked at his armor. For a fleeting moment, the heat had been incredible, feeling almost like it would sear his skin beneath the steel. The flames on steel eventually died out, and the springtime grass failed to burn for long.

The dragoness flew above him in circles. He craned his neck to watch. Mid-flight, she stopped flapping and at once she began to fall. Slowly at first, until she straightened her body out, nosediving. With some space left before the ground, she let her wings out to halt her momentum, and flapped to keep herself in place, hovering. She was perhaps four men high.

“Still alive. Are you a wizard then?" she asked. It occurred to him that the growl in her voice was not put on, since she had sustained it the whole time he'd met her. Dragons must struggle to sound human when speaking the Prussian tongue.

“No," he called up, having to shout with the distance between them. “And despite the armor, I'm no knight either."

“I have no magic in my soul to take, foul wizard. Your enchanted armor won't save you. Leave."

“I can't, dragoness, we have yet to chat. There is a dragoness in the great city of Stone Henge, have you heard of her? She cured my vulnerability to fire, said it was humankind's greatest folly. And my, it had taken years to get to that point. But alas, I convinced her."

“What?" the dragoness said. Her tone shifted. “The draconic ambassador… She… cured you?"

Sibylle nodded. “Aye, and she bid me to find the draconic princess. Who still pervades me, it seems," he paused. “I must say, you do carry a certain resemblance to her, and just like you, she met me with impolite severity. But then, like her, you are also very beautiful."

The dragoness landed with a great sweep of her wings.

“Beautiful?" she repeated, as if needing to hear herself say it to believe it.

He nodded a knight's nod, tipping his visor.

She looked him over, more closely than before, with something more than suspicion. Wiping her nose with a paw, she examined the blood smeared on it.

“You nearly crushed my nose in," she said, using the grass to clean her paw.

“For that, I am terribly sorry. Nothing pains me more than the thought of harming a creature such as yourself. But I couldn't have you stopping me from aiding the dragons of this land. I need to stay breathing for that."

He grunted and took a knee, planting a metal-clad hand on the ground for balance. “Speaking of which-" he sputtered. Blood trickled past the hand clutching the plate over his stomach.

Slowly, he sat down, and then before long, laid down.

“What the fuck are you doing?" he heard.

“I need to rest, just a bit, dragon. Those claws of yours are much sharper than they first looked."

She huffed smoke out of her nostrils and turned about, beginning to walk back to the castle.

“Wait!" he called out, the resulting exertion and pain causing him to cough.

She looked back.

“Later," he groaned. “When I've recovered the strength, I'll meet you in the hold. Just stay somewhere on the ground if you would, that'd make things easier. I'll be in apothecary if there is one-"

He was taken again by a fit of coughs. “Just know dragon, I've come here for your sake. And if you allow it, I will see that dragons be restored to their rightful place as the world's peacekeepers."

She squinted at him with venomous skepticism. “Then know this, human," she said. “I haven't crushed your skull because you're clearly blessed. And if the ambassador trusted you, then there's a good reason. But that is the only thing keeping you alive. Push the line in any way, and I will split you open."

Sibylle nodded. And with that, the dragon left to the hold.

It seems you already have, he thought.

---

Later, as Sibylle had said, he managed to limp and stumble his way into the castle. The great wooden doors were no longer present at the entrance, so he had walked right through to the hallways and chambers. To him, it was a messy and confusing array, but somehow he found an apothecary. By some draconic magic he assumed, all the torches and lamps remained lit, despite being abandoned by humans. In the damp, dim room, on the dusty shelves, he found several round flasks, each mottled with cobwebs.

Flipping up his visor, he twisted a flask to find it was labeled: Angel's Clot. He brushed off the dust and webs, uncorked it, and began to drink it down. After a few gulps, he let off, sighing happily. It tasted just as good as anywhere else he'd had it. Looking down at his wound, the gashes almost immediately closed up, heavy scabs forming over them. It still stung like all seven hells, but at least he'd live.

Wandering back the way he came, he noted the thin trail of blood he'd dripped on the rug-laden floors. He additionally noted the massive gapes in his armor he'd now have to repair.

Bollocks, that.

Happening upon an entrance-way along the stonebrick hall, he turned to find a great room beyond the threshold. It was as deep as it was wide, with longtables sporting chairs on either side, and huge, iron cauldrons of fire illuminating the walls. At the wall furthest from him, at the top of some steps, were two thrones. The left was empty, but in the right sat a skeleton, propped up, with a crown at its feet.

“Time takes the mighty," he muttered.

“I took the mighty," another voice replied.

Sibylle spun around to find the dragoness behind him.

“Bloody fuck! Do you just fucking sneak up everyone?"

She walked past him and into the massive throne room. “Mind your language, human. You're speaking to royalty in her palace."

With a lingering, but less prominent stagger, he followed. “Royalty, you say? So you are the princess after all?"

She looked back at him, stopping at the close end of a longtable. “Sit with me," she said.

As she planned her rump on the floor, he pulled a chair out across from her and slumped into it. “I'll get to the point," he began. “I need to join the dragons properly, and as you know, that means that we need to mate-"

“I have a question, human," she interrupted. “Why exactly did the ambassador believe you mean to help us?"

Sibylle recoiled. “Well… like I said, it took years. But giving her information on several kings, court masters, and advisors did help my case. I also offered her a few assassinations, on the house."

“So you murder your own kind?"

“Only the ones who became rich off the work of poor hands, and those who mean to keep the order of society how it is. I don't despise my kind at all. But dragons are more just, and fairer. I'm going to put the power back in reasonable hands."

The dragoness nodded. “You speak like a dragon. Perhaps you did spend time with the ambassador. And so you think that because you say the right words, I will give you the rite of passage to dragonkind?"

Sibylle picked up an empty goblet and examined it. “I know your father died at the end of a hunter's spear, as well as much of your family and lineage. I know the dragons' territory shrinks with every year, pushed back higher into the mountains. I know the humans broke the truce to sustain both of our kinds together. They don't want you around anymore. They're going to kill you all."

She stared wordlessly into his eyes, her expression losing its previous air.

He continued, “You lied to me about being royalty because you're afraid of alerting a larger force to this location. You've defended this place by yourself for far too long. You want to take the fight to the humans, but you simply lack the number of souls amongst your kind. You need a new strategy."

Leaning in, he set the goblet down. “I will help you, princess. But you must allow me into your ranks."

She shook her head. “The gall for you to spew that at me. To tell me how weak we are, I could crumple you like foil right now. Where do you think you got all this from, hmm?"

“Other dragons, usually the smaller ones that love my coin. But also the human militaries themselves. They also know how vulnerable you are. They're going to act on it."

He pressed his hands together. “No dragon can sabotage the humans from the inside. I can. All I need is your well-wish, princess."

She tilted her snout up slightly.

“If this all succeeded, and you were the last free man, you'd join your kind, and be ruled by us."

He nodded.

“In fact, I might kill you in the end, for having harmed a royal."

“I look forward to such a day," he said.

An amused smile took over her face, and acceptance was on the horizon. He took off his helm, set it on the floor beside him, and lent his hand to shake.

The dragoness flipped the table to the side, sending every manner of supperware flying across the room, and nearly knocking Sibylle from his chair. She lunged and grabbed his neck with one claw, her scales choking his exposed skin. She brought his face to hers.

All he could feel was the want for air, not able to get quite enough, and he could see the predatory glint in her slitted eyes. Her eyes were white, oddly enough, only the pupil being black.

“It isn't just about humanity's corruption. Loneliness brought you here. I know being alone is like torture to you humans. And a human that finds dragons beautiful and condemns his own species is surely an outcast. If I don't accept you, you will have no one. And you will never satisfy your… preference… for dragonesses, will you?"

He tried to pry her claw away, but it might as well have been iron.

“Admit it," she hissed, baring her razor teeth.

Fuck, he thought. Not only was he losing breath, but it was like she was explaining the last five years of his life. Everything he'd planned, researched, and done had been for the ends she described. He-

“Admit you want my body, nay, need it. Say that you need my company and companionship or your life is worthless. That the essence of all your desires hangs on my answer, that you need me just as much as dragonkind needs you. You have no more power over me than I do over you. Admit it, or I'll cleave your head with one bite."

With his eyebrows furrowed, eyes glazing over, face red, he nodded.

She let him go, dropping his weight into the chair. “Wise choice."

---

He plunged his cock between her lips again, her lubricant already coating him. Despite her body being scaled, her nether region was actually quite smooth, sporting hide rather than hard keratin. In effect, it made fucking her deliciously easy. Holding one of her digitigrade legs over his shoulder, he straddled the other one, leaving her spread wide for him. He could have thrust as fast as he wanted into her tight, slick entrance, but instead, he enjoyed himself. He watched his own glossy shaft penetrate her, watched her lips pull on him for the backstroke, and push in for the forward stroke.

It had been a hasty trip to this room, where he now plowed the dragoness into the bed. She was not one for small talk and bush-beating, she had said.

“Fuck," he cursed, feeling himself throb just from the sight of his cock being swallowed up by her pussy. The position itself was perfect for him, he was the one leading the pace, holding her up for his access. Over this terrible, strong dragoness, he was in control.

She was laid out on the bed, her larger body taking up much of the space, but the room itself was wide and tall, which was a signature of any royalty's bed-chamber. The curtains ran crimson, and the air smelled of sex. It all invigorated him. A powerful, alluring beast like a dragoness, all for him to take at his pleasure.

And pleasure was certainly the word for it. Her inner flesh held to him, tight as a vice, feeling as though it was milking him with every contraction. Whenever he hilted himself, pressing his balls to her crotch, he could feel her soft, puffy innards mold to the crown of his tip, rubbing and stimulating him as he ground his hips. With his knees on the sheets, he drove into her, trying to focus on the sensation of his cock gliding into her smooth depths, the heat of her core making him want to stay inside her. She was so wet. His own crotch was already damp, especially around the base of his cock, which practically dripped with her essence.

Fuck.

He couldn't even say it out loud. He had to focus, had to struggle to even stay in the moment, otherwise his mind would waver from the overwhelming euphoria of fucking a gorgeous dragoness.

She laid her head back, her body squirming as she was taken. This was no longer the one who had clawed his guts and taken him by the throat. She mewled in deep, draconic growls. Her hindpaws would occasionally curl, the talons somewhat too close to Sibylle's face for his comfort.

Nonetheless, the rite of passage was a wondrous thing.

He was only a mortal man, taking what his body desired most. Feeling over the scutes covering her thighs, he let one hand trail to her lower abdomen, feeling her texture. Some scales were rough, but some were smooth.

She could be harsh, and she could be merciful. Right now, she was a damned saint. He hadn't had a good fuck in years, and now he was having the best of his life. How quickly everything had changed…

Initially, he had feared being ill-equipped to please a woman of her size, but he found that her walls actually seemed to adapt to his shape and length, which seemed to please her just as well as it pleased him. From her lidded eyes and her surrendered pose, she definitely looked to be enjoying herself.

Her pussy held his shaft with an exquisite grip, clenching on him with her egg-laying muscles, seemingly at random, so that he could never predict when the next spike of euphoria would come. It only made him want more, so he thrust harder. And so the friction grew, his hard cock plunging into her soft, plush walls.

Yes, he could feel it now. Something he had suspected. She was using her vaginal muscles purposefully, not at random after all. Each clench came in a peristaltic wave, putting pressure over the sensitive underside of his shaft, right below the tip, and then all the way down to the base. It had the effect of pulling him inside, very willingly on his end, no matter where he was during each thrust.

His lust kept burning and growing like wildfire alongside his nearing climax. One could only last so long in such a beautiful partner. She could make him cum without him having to do any work, he was sure. To think that a man like him deserved such pleasantries. He might have laughed in any other case.

He continued working himself into her and reached down to the top of her vent. Tucked just beyond her lips was not a nub, but bumpy, wet skin which made up a dragonesses clitoris, or what constituted as one for dragonesses anyway.

With two fingers he traced over the texture of it, his fingertips immediately becoming slick, and the dragoness' body becoming rigid. Her back straightened out as she writhed and let out a low growl. If he hadn't been fucking her, he would have assumed she was about to kill someone. Her reaction was accompanied by another series of constrictions around his hard cock. Instead of subsiding after a while, however, they kept going, and he grit his teeth. He wasn't going to last under this kind of stimulation.

“I'm close, human," she said, her forepaws flexing over the sheets.

“I-" he stammered, gathering all of his focus. “I'm close too."

With this admission, things were on course to their mutual climaxes.

In the reverie of his mounting pleasure, the hind leg he had been straddling slipped out from beneath him, and both her legs clasped behind his back. He had time only to wonder before she twisted her body, flipping the man over on his back while she rolled atop him. Although she was the size of a horse, her weight did not bear on him painfully, for she kept most of it off him. Instead, her forepaws were planted on either side of his head. Her long, spiked tail sashayed behind her, and her head hung low, close to his face. Again, in the piercing gleam of her eyes, he could envision nothing but predatory instinct and will.

Her visage was perfectly sleek and streamlined like it was carved with the purpose of instilling fear and commanding respect. But beneath that, a dragon was more. They were a person like any human. They had wants and needs. And right now the dragoness wanted him.

She had managed to keep him inside her throughout the motions, and now she ground her hips against his (with surprising restraint, given that using the full brunt of her strength, she could break him).

His cock was pushing against new and previously unexplored flesh, some angles being particularly gratifying. And Gods, when she would clench… sometimes he swore he would momentarily see stars.

He couldn't look away from her dancing, swaying hips, the circles they drew, the back and forth grinds. She growled and pushed down hard on him, indenting the mattress somewhat.

“Is this what you wanted, little human?" she asked.

He breathed the sweet air between them, trying to maintain his gaze. He knew what she was trying to do.

“Wanted my body for yourself? Wanted to come into my castle and try to control me? I remember every word you've said."

She leaned in closer, pulling herself off his cock until only the tip remained wedged between her tight lips.

The wrinkles of a snarl formed on her snout. “Call me beautiful again."

Gods, the wrath of a dragon's ego.

He wanted to back within her depths, he hated the lack of friction and constant, intense pleasure. He needed it back, he needed to finish.

“Why?" he said. He couldn't help it. Even though he could've said it, with no weight on his conscious, he had to get back at her; he felt the need to show that he wasn't just a plaything.

“Because I fucking said so, and because I'm the only one who can bring you happiness. All of your dreams and desires lie behind the gate of my permission. Now call me beautiful."

That may be.

“You aren't just beautiful, dear," he said. “You are gorgeous, a truly stunning sight to any creature, man or dragon. Powerful too. But you don't own me. And besides your claws, your teeth, and your strength, you can do nothing to hurt me."

The dragoness did not respond but kept staring, as if waiting, inviting an alternative response. Sibylle did not breathe. He felt like he couldn't. The dragoness from the fight had come back. The one who had torn his skin.

Her head shot forward, jaws opening to flash her many teeth for a second before they were at his neck. Of course, he tensed, as anything with a beating heart would. Singing pinpricks on his skin caused him to draw a sharp breath.

If he moved sightly in any direction, it would mean her teeth would sink deeper. And by the Gods, when she lowered her hips, plunging him back into wet warmth and bliss, it was hard to keep still.

She began a rhythm that drove him up a wall. Just slow enough to tease him, but fast enough to generate delicious friction. Sliding up and down his sensitive shaft, one that had been going for so long, he was nearing the fever point. Her entrance squeezed and squeezed again, a tight circle around his cock at every level, from tip to middle to base.

When he hilted within her clenching, plush walls that massaged and coaxed him, he wanted nothing but to feel the movement of them sliding. When he was exposed to the air, however, he wanted nothing but to return to the cozy hearth of her innards.

Somewhere beyond her pension for violence, in her motions, bringing herself up and down again, bringing him pleasure, he found kindness. She wasn't slamming him into the bed, she was controlling herself. She wasn't taking him as she wanted. It was partly for his sake.

He reached up and stroked the sides of her body. “Your scales are so smooth, princess."

She growled, a reptilian and cold-blooded resonance, but he didn't stop.

“Such a pretty color. Royal blue. It suits you perfectly. Gods, you feel so fucking good. Everything about you…"

He swore he felt her shiver, her whole body. It was a subtle thing, something that might have gone unnoticed in the throes of sex, but he felt it.

He began to throw his hips up to meet hers, bottoming out inside her as his balls pressed to her crotch. He was rewarded by an even stronger clench, those inner muscles working him over in smooth, pulsing waves.

His eyelids became heavier. “I'm…" he trailed off.

She stopped his thrusts by sitting her weight down on his hips. He struggled to keep at it, but he was immobilized.

He gasped, and his legs tightened when her walls constricted his cock with inhuman strength. Those egg-laying muscles; used to give birth to mighty dragons, and she was in complete control of them. There was no more in and out movement, just her pussy spread wide on his cock, a wet squelching emanating from where their hips ground against each other. It was divine, purely magical. Nothing else had come close to this experience in his life. And it brought him right to the edge.

With her pussy still milking him, he grunted, grabbing onto her body as his cock jumped. His delivering vein throbbed, balls tightening as he unloaded inside the dragoness.

His mind soared, his eyes cinched shut, reeling through the miasma of his climax. It was unimaginable pleasure, a euphoria and satisfaction so strong that blocked out all other stimuli. He could only feel himself shooting his seed into her depths, painting them white. Her inner core spoiled his cock with its sauna-like heat, all the while continuing to clench and unclench, coaxing every drop of cum he could spare.

When opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was her scaly neck lying on his shoulder and well behind his head. As the dragon still supported her upper body, he looked down between them to see his cum leaking slowly from around their joined parts. He was struggling to even catch his breath, and from the rise and falls of the dragoness' chest, so was she.

“Very… nice. That was very nice, princess."

He could still barely process it. He'd done it. He'd laid a dragoness!

A new form of satisfaction washed over him, this one from sheer accomplishment, the end of all his efforts thus far. To think he'd almost failed when fighting this dragoness.

She crooned a higher tone than her usual growls, a noise he had only heard for the first time. “It was nice," he heard her say. “But I'm far from done with you. It will take more than that to sate a dragoness."

Concern filled his mind. Already?

With a start, she hoisted herself off of him, beginning to climb off the foot of the bed. Once on the floor, she turned to face him. “Come here. Now."

Already it is.

He sat up and newfound energy within at the prospect of more of whatever she had to offer, although he wasn't exactly sure if he would be able to keep up. Scooting toward her over the sheets, he noticed she still had that fire in her eyes, one that never seemed to go out. Perhaps it was in her soul to be voracious.

“Sit on the edge," she said.

He did, his feet dangling off the floor. It appeared the royalty even liked to sleep high.

Her attention turned shamelessly to his manhood, and she made no attempt to hide it. Without another word, she placed her forepaws on his legs and spread them. He winced from the weight this put on him.

“Do you believe dragons kiss, human?"

“What?"

“Do you?"

He shook his head and bit his tongue. “No."

She dove in and put her lips on his, the combination jarring and completely incompatible, but nonetheless, the dragoness slipped her tongue into his mouth briefly. And just as quickly, she pulled away.

“They do," she said.

His eyes had gone wide as he wiped his mouth, barely realizing what had just happened. But something else came over him, a sudden spiraling within his belly. Something that was already in him, but now growing stronger, bigger. Lust. And to accompany it, virility. He could somehow feel it.

“That's magic you're feeling," she said. “Right from the tap of my body."

Reinvigorated, that was it. And ready to go again.

Naughty dragoness knows what she's doing.

Still spreading his legs, she lowered her head and nuzzled beneath his soft shaft, her tongue peeking out to lick his balls. After some playful exploration of his sack, she traveled upward, her tongue circling up and around his cock as it rested on her scaly snout. It spiraled around him with slow deliberation, her eyes on his, making sure he was watching. Her forked tongue then circled beneath his sensitive crown, completing the coil she'd made around him. He had expected some slight discomfort from having freshly blown his load, but he felt only raw, burning lust.

Her tongue began to slide down his stiffening cock, and his blood pumped harder. In turn, her tongue slid back up, always keeping tight to his shape. It was like a hand pleasuring him, only one that was warmer, and wet, and soft. And by the Gods, in all his days of human affairs, he'd never had anyone do this. The fact she was pleasing him just her tongue alone was incredible. In minutes he was hard again.

Such a powerful creature, hard to kill, easy to be killed by, and yet here she was, his cock upon her muzzle, being stroked by her tongue that slickened his skin. The familiar electric pleasure of sex refamiliarized itself with his senses, his manhood being treated to a rare delight.

He was brought back to the moment when her head pulled back, holding his cock in place as she gazed upon his length. Casting her eyes on his once more, clearly gauging his reaction, reveling in his bated expression, she opened her mouth wide. Within laid teeth of course, but also the remainder of her dextrous tongue, and the pink, wet roof of her mouth.

He crossed two fingers on his right hand, but did nothing to stop her. It felt a sin to indulge in this much pleasure.

The dragoness leaned in and let his cock rest over her cushiony tongue, and his breath caught. She let her slender muzzle close over him, her draconic lips forming a poor seal around him. He sighed and rested his hands on her snout, her maw once more treating his cock to that relaxing warmth. He should have known the mouth of a dragon to be hot.

Wasting no time, she pushed her nose into his crotch, taking him right to the base before she sucked deliberately. He groaned, the pleasure lancing unexpectedly. Having his entire cock lavished upon always did the trick. She reared back, wet suckles sounding out as his shaft was exposed before she took it all back in, continuing to repeatedly slot his cock between her lips. He could only watch with low eyes and grit teeth as she bobbed up and down on him, sating his mad lust, giving in to his body's primal desire.

Even as she bobbed, however, her tongue still maintained its spiral around him, soaking his sensitive flesh in heat and slick saliva. While she came off him, her tongue slid down, and vice versa, providing a contrast of sensation that drove him right up a wall. His toes curled against the side of the mattress, and nothing remained in his focus but the tight cavity of her maw, his world reduced to the moment. And second by second, he grew closer to spilling, knowing that it would be down her throat. His last climax had been mind-numbing, and the chance to cum within her body again was an intoxicating prospect.

Everything about her was attractive, amplifying his already heightened pleasure. Her power, her sleek, scaled body. Her eyes, the intelligence and undying fury behind them. Her forepaws were on his thighs, gripping him possessively, forcing his legs open, making him endure the greatest oral service of his life.

He began to rock his hips in time with her bobs, just gently, however. Being seated and held down, it was hard to make any difference, but when he did thrust forward, he felt his tip rub harder against the ribbed roof of her maw. So he kept doing it, trying again and again to gain just that much more pleasure.

Cursing, he surprised himself at how close he already was. And he praised her for it. He praised her tongue, her maw, and her beautiful body. He praised her ferocity and everything that made her a true dragoness. Not just the claws and the wings, but the mind between her horns. That power-hungry, prideful, cunning, fearless mind.

He was there. He was already there. When he told her as much, she did what he expected and feared. She went faster, suckled more frequently, and massaged the underside of his cock with her tongue, pressing him tightly within the confines of her hot maw.

It was more overwhelming than he could have known. Doubling over, his balls tightened and his cock jumped within her maw's embrace. It was no other orgasm before. This one wasn in an environment of pure novelty and rare circumstance. And by the Gods was it devilishly blissful. Each lance of his cum down her gullet was a burst of pleasure pulsing through his veins, filling his head with rising clouds. He rode high on the immense euphoria of unburdening his seed in a wet, warm place, like a dragoness' maw. Especially a dragoness' maw, one was good as this one's.

His fingertips flattened against her scaly snout, holding on for dear life. As the spurts of his cum began to die down, his eyes opened slowly. He didn't even remember closing them. One moment he was on the brink, the next he had only seen white. But coming back to reality, he saw that his cock was still stuffed in the dragoness' jaws, and he felt her tongue still coaxing every last drop from his spoiled cock.

Wincing he tapped her muzzle. “Please," he said. “Sensitive."

With a look of annoyance, as if she been eager to do nothing but make sure she had milked him dry. He certainly felt milked dry, she'd practically sucked the soul from his body.

“Skies above, you're ravenous, princess."

She chuckled, tilting her head and opening her maw wide. Dollops of cum laid on her presented tongue, strings of it dripping from some of her teeth and the roof of her mouth. He'd made a complete mess of her maw, and it was the most arousing sight a man could see. The spoils of his efforts.

With a clack, her jaws snapped shut, and he watched her close her eyes and swallow, just as she had previously swallowed around him.

He shook his head. “You're a demon, Lust herself. You must be."

She smiled as best a dragon could. “I can be, if that's what moves you," she said.

Nodding, he caught his breath. It did move him. “Kiss me again," he said.

She pushed down on his legs and rose to his level, her face before his. He didn't hesitate to reciprocate when she planted her lips, and he even moved his hands to the underside of her jaw, stroking gently, closing his eyes and feeling her tongue invade her mouth.

Breaking off, she pushed off of him and onto the floor, proceeding to leap back onto the bed beside him. Quick as magic ought to be, lust sizzled in him like burning coal dropped into water. He did not cool down, however. It just kept burning in his loins, and he looked once more upon her feminine body with primitive hunger. Her sexy curves, those powerful haunches and shapely rear. She walked behind him before lying down, her tail raising teasingly as she turned her head to eye him.

Even though he knew her game, he had no choice but to play it. He needed to feel her again.

Like a drunk man, which he surely was in a way, he clambered over the bed until he was behind her, beholding her. She laid as a dog would, legs tucked almost beneath herself, her profile flat, but at the same time, this left her nether region exposed and accessible to him. And especially with the way she flagged her tail over her back, out of the way for his viewing pleasure, he could have easily slipped in right then.

Between her round, smooth-hided haunches, her thin vent leaked her own precum, shining with fluid in the candlelight. It was the same pussy he had once plunged himself into, and now he was lucky enough to be able to enjoy this delight twice. Those blue scales, her shapely ass, her bedroom eyes, her feminine body; he was already hard again.

He scooted up on his knees, and with her size, his height allowed his cock to be level with her pussy, as if they were made for this. He liked to think they were, that this sordid heaven was meant to be. He took himself in hand and guided his tip forward. It pressed against her soft, plush lips, and he had to push his hips before she finally parted open, allowing his rock-hard length to slide within her depths.

He moaned; no restraint and no dignity, just pleasure unabashed. He almost felt shameful for it, how uncontrolled it was, but he simply could not help it. She felt too good. Her insides were hot, and they gripped his cock so tightly, yet whenever he pushed in, or like now when he pulled out, her puffy walls let him slide past while still maintaining an electric friction. Even the underside of his tip was pressed against and stimulated, making him shiver suddenly, and the hairs on his arms stood.

Reaching down, his fingers ventured into her slit even as he fucked it, proceeding to rub feverishly at her draconic clit. Her body shuttered, and he was rewarded by more violent and sudden clenches of her vaginal walls.

He fucked her soft folds over and over, his crotch once again becoming spattered by her juices, his balls, sometimes dripping with the excess that leaked from her spread passage. It always felt like it was trying to close on him, yet his cock kept it open, hugged on all sides by warm flesh, constantly clenching around him, coaxing him to release. By the Gods, he wanted to. Somehow, after being drained twice, he felt like he had all of himself to give, another load ready to be emptied inside her sexy body.

He drove forward with his knees planted in the sheets, his chest leaning over her tail base, hips slapping against her plump rear with every thrust. He watched her pussy as he fucked it, watched as he spread her open repeatedly, and he could even see a peek of the pink flesh within, the same flesh holding his sensitive cock, treating him to the very greatest heights of pleasure.

After some time, the dragoness began to rock her hips back against his. “Deeper," she said. “Cum as deep as you can, human." Her voice was thin and high.

Not needing to be told twice, he hilted himself, balls pressed to her crotch as they began to tighten up. His tip rubbed against a deep, rapidly shrinking place, a spot inside her he could only reach by grinding his hips. He let his moans be heard, as they would do for praise in this state where he was speechless. His cock throbbed in time with the peristaltic clenching of her passage.

The dragoness lifted her head and cried out, eyes cinched shut and mouth left ajar.

Fuck! She's cumming!

Her pussy felt as though it shrank two sizes. The tightness was so sudden and severe that he feared it might be painful. However, the sensations being lavished upon his throbbing shaft only amplified, his pleasure taken to another level entirely as constriction after constriction milked him. Each spurt of cum was complimented by a squeeze of her wet, soft walls, making him cum harder and with greater volume. Soaking her insides with his seed, he almost certainly deposited a great portion of it directly into her womb.

In this barrage of stimuli and beautiful euphoria, he clung to his remaining sense and kept rubbing her clit, the soft skin dimpling under his caress. His actions only prolonged and intensified her orgasm, making her egg-laying muscles truly drain him for every last drop he was worth. His body felt like it was floating, and his thighs burned.

His head hung down, his chest heaved, and sweat trickled down his shoulders. His lungs drew in breath greedily. After a while, the sensations of real-life began to return, and he regained his bearing. He took two good handfuls of her ass and squeezed, reveling in her softness. Looking down, he pulled his hips back slowly, savoring the post-orgasm oversensitivity of his cock as it was pulled on, her flesh reluctant to let him leave. His tip popped out, a string of his cum connecting them. Almost immediately, her cunt began to fill with white before it dripped down, his copious seed beginning to dribble down her crotch.

That is beautiful.

The dragoness turned her head to the side, her long neck allowing her to eye him.

“Did I satisfy the princess?" he asked.

She let her whole body go flat on the bed, finally able to rest. “Don't expect to be idle much, going forward. As long as you're with me, I'm going to use your body and your mind for all they're worth."

“You sound satisfied to me."

---

It was not the last coupling of their first night together, for both their hungers lingered, building back up slowly. In the following months, the dragoness kept true to her word, and there was nary a night that Sibylle went without being drained of his seed.

It made his covert work difficult, but even he had to admit guilt in enabling the dragoness' lust. With his connections in the human empires, Sibylle aided and planned multiple attacks on every capital, eliminating key figures and sabotaging logistical networks. With an enemy on the inside and the outside, internal distrust became rampant, and many governments crumbled.

There were still many people left, for only the royalty and aristocracy were targeted.

Once, Sibylle stood atop a tower overlooking a great city of marble, seeing chaos below in the street as minor lords and their peoples were left to fend for themselves. He knew the reign of the dragons was revived, and only a matter of time remained between its true arrival and now. He looked to his right, observing his good partner, the princess of dragonkind. Sometimes, he felt uneasy remembering her choice words in the castle that fateful day.