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The red dragon breathed in, held the breath within his lungs, and then slowly let it out again as he moved on to the second precept.\n\n[i]A Dragon Monk is disciplined.[/i]\n\nAs they were forced to be by the world around them, as their monastery required of them to be able to hold what they had been given by their ancestors. He shifted his weight slightly, maintaining his meditative squat as he shifted his tail a little further up his back.\n\n[i]A Dragon Monk endures.[/i]\n\nFor that was what they did. He breathed in again, holding it deep, knowing that he could turn it to fire if he had need, but he let it out. There was no need to make it warmer in the meditation hall.\n\n[i]A Dragon Monk is diligent in their efforts.[/i]\n\nThe soft hum of the other dragons around him rolled through, a great many of them breathing in and then breathing out at the same time. The slow breathing was part and parcel to the afternoon, the thing that they all did, the studies and focus that they all pursued. Brother Nathan joined them as he breathed out for the fifth precept.\n\n[i]A Dragon Monk is focused on enlightenment.[/i]\n\nFor what were they without that? No more than the meanest peasant, and no longer deserving of this great place. They could not cease their pursuit of a greater sense of self, a greater realization of the world around them, lest they betray all that had come before. Another breath, to the sixth.\n\n[i]A Dragon Monk serves a higher purpose.[/i]\n\nAnd out.\n\nAnd again.\n\nHe was aware as he breathed and repeated the precepts that all the other members of the order were doing the same thing. It was what they always did after their practice on the training yard, a means of calming their blood and bringing the raised pressure to fight, to be aggressive, to be mighty and dangerous as their dragon blood demanded they be, back to the calmness of a monk's life. Such was their way. It has always been thus.\n\nAnd yet, today, something was different. It was like an itch at the base of his wings, something that kept poking at his spine as if demanding his attention, trying to get him to do something about it. He didn't know what it wanted, but something was different in the world today, and it was enough to keep him from having perfect focus on the mantra that they all pursued. Here and there, there was a shift in the breathing exercise as someone or other fell out of sync with the rest of their brothers. Such things happened, but rarely.\n\nIt made him feel...uneasy, which, again, was not what these moments were supposed to be.\n\nBrother Nathan forced the thought down, bringing his discipline to bear. The second precept would have to suffice in lieu of the calmness that he was supposed to have at that moment.\n\nTime passed, and he rolled through the six precepts a good dozen more times before a gong sounded in the distance. The call to the meal hall was heard throughout the monastery, and Nathan, as well as all of the other dragons in the meditation hall, stood as one. They did not have to unfold their legs; their muscles were strong enough that they could rise from a squatted position with ease, despite having held it for the last hour. He stretched his legs, pushing his toes down and lifting himself higher, before standing normally once more. The stretch did him good, and he felt no stiffness as he walked out of the great hall into the courtyard.\n\nHe paused there, taking in the beauty of their home. The Monastery of the Dragon Order stood at the top of the great Esheen Mountain, a tall peak that overlooked the plains that rolled out from it in all directions. It was a natural watchtower, something that many lords had wished for their own through the years. The Monastery had stood strong against all of them, refusing to relinquish the lands that the ancient dragons had claimed as their own, and which had been handed down to those that would seek a way of peace and isolation.\n\nThe walls of the great monastery rippled out, made of living scales that self-perpetuated through a process that none of the monks, not even the High Abbot, entirely understood. Yet, the rippling golden scales that formed the walls were a living thing, spreading, shedding, and growing again through the years. There were days where the egg-shaped barrier around the monastery seemed to breathe, and when it did, not a brother in the ranks of the order could help but feel safe there, as if they were sheltered within the egg still.\n\nBrother Nathan moved forward, descending the stone steps from the meditation hall to the great courtyard, likewise egg-shaped in the center of the monastery. From there, one could access any part of their home, from the meal hall on the north side to the flatter, more modest sleeping quarters on the west. The great gate, the only way in and out of the monastery, lay on the east side, and faced the one road that came up the mountain, and it was bordered on either side by stairs that led to the top of the walls, stairs that had the red dragon's attention despite himself.\n\nBecause they had a visitor, and it was not the typical messenger from the far-off king.\n\nHe paused in the center of the gravel courtyard, shifting from one foot to the other as he watched the High Abbot descend with a black panther at his heels. The stranger walked with purpose, yet still carried himself with a smile and a chuckle that seemed to drift on the wind. Brother Nathan could hear it despite being a hundred or more meters away, and it sent a chill down his spine to hear such an unnatural thing.\n\nThe High Abbot, a great silver dragon that had been part of the monastery for longer than Nathan had been a member and whom everyone usually called ‘the Grandfather’ due to his seniority, turned at the base of the stairs. Something was said between him and the panther, and the panther bowed. Yet, even that seemed a gesture more in play or mockery than in truth. The gates opened, and the panther turned to leave, a great flowing robe flicking out behind him.\n\nBrother Nathan waited as the High Abbot walked his way. He bowed his head, and the silver dragon smiled.\n\n\"Brother Nathan. You should be at your meals.\"\n\n\"I was on my way, Grandfather, but I couldn't help but notice our guest.\"\n\n\"Yes, yes. He was a sorcerer that was passing through. Pay him no mind.\"\n\nA sorcerer? Well, that answered some few questions, though it raised more. The red dragon raised an eyebrow as they walked along, folding his hands behind him. The plain but tight garments he wore pulled all the tighter around his shoulders, making his chest and arms stand out more distinctively than usual. It was immodest, he supposed, but there was little to be done about it. The training that the monks went through to protect their monastery - and to fight for those that needed their protection - was sufficient to leave them all but bursting through their clothes at the best of times. It was something that they dealt with as best they could.\n\n\"I did not know that we had such guests,\" Nathan said.\n\n\"I would not have allowed him in, normally, but he seemed trustworthy enough.\"\n\n\"How so?\"\n\n\"He did not agree with the king.\"\n\n\"Ah.\"\n\n\"Indeed. And he was willing to stay for merely a short walk along the walls. He spoke much of his philosophy; I did not agree with it, but he had thought it through, and the thoughts of another scholar are no danger to one that has thought through his own beliefs.\"\n\n\"You are an icon to us all, Grandfather.\"\n\n\"I am merely older, young one. You will have such experience in due time.\"\n\nThe older dragon and younger reached the meal hall, a great building with a triangular tiled roof that reached a greater balcony at the top, where those like the High Abbot and his other, more elderly companions would take their meal. Nathan said his goodbyes and joined the line for the food that was being served for the day. All around him were other dragons, each dressed in similar greens, grays, and tans, their linens pulled tight around bodies that were never entirely meant for civilized clothing.\n\nSuch was the reason for the monastery being established so long ago. Dragons had always been a threat, too lost in their instincts and their need to take and break the things around them. Each dragon was born a warlord in his own mind, and each of them had the power to fight many lesser species with ease. To be allowed to roam free, to throw oneself to the winds and trust only to instincts and desire, was to set the world to flame.\n\nAnd so, they gathered here, submitting themselves to the Six Precepts. Here, they were able to tame their baser urges. Here, they were able to be more than the beasts that they would otherwise become.\n\nBrother Nathan took his bowl of rice and river fish with a nod of thanks, joining one cluster of red and blue dragons in one of the meal pits. Many dug-out holes filled the hall, allowing one to settle into a sunken area where they could socialize briefly between one another. Most of the dragons were apologetic as they settled in, all of them aware of the slight smell that still clung to their scales after their long practice, but the apologies were all accepted and waved on, everyone knowing that they were going to be like that for a while.\n\nNormally, the pits were filled with conversation, but today? Today, they were all but silent, everyone looking contemplative, and the food was hardly touched.\n\nBrother Nathan settled between a blue dragon and a red one, looking at his own bowl. He hesitated for but a moment before saying what they were all thinking.\n\n\"Something's wrong,\" he said.\n\n\"You feel it, too?\" one of them asked.\n\n\"I feel...something.\"\n\n\"I wondered if it was just me; there was this...pressure during meditation. As if something was watching.\"\n\n\"Not just watching, but circling, like a noose.\"\n\n\"Or chaining us down...\"\n\nBrother Nathan had not meant for it to get so out of hand as that; there was no sense of true impending danger, or they would have seen something, he was sure of that. It had only been a sense of something off, something different in the monastery.\n\nHe'd thought, perhaps, that it might have been the sorcerer, but that felt impossible to him. There were things that magicians could do, of course, but such things were minor in the grand scheme of things, and required a weak mind to be able to fully affect another. The enchantments of sorcerers only worked if they were able to burrow through the willpower of their target, and to do that, one had to believe the illusions that the sorcerer presented.\n\nA monastery of trained dragons, of monks that had learned long ago that to control themselves was the only way to be accepted, was not so easy a target as that, and he refused to believe that someone could fool the Grandfather so readily.\n\nBefore he could say another word, one of the blue dragons in their pit - a particularly hawk-nosed male by the name of Brother Ethan - tapped his chopsticks hard against the edge of his bowl. The soft sound of wood clacking was nonetheless firm enough to get their attention and silence them.\n\n\"There is no threat to us from inside. The only threat that we need be concerned with is the ever-meddling King Claudius to the east.\"\n\nOn that, the dragons could agree on, and the conversation shifted from the unseen threat that they had all been completely sure that they'd felt but a moment ago to the lion that had been trying to drag them down from the mountain for years.\n\nBrother Nathan remembered the few times that the king himself had come to the monastery, always with the purpose of dragging them in for this war or that. Every time, he came with the claim that they were part of the kingdom and that, as such, they should come to answer his calls to war. Every time, the High Abbot had stated that they had claimed this mountain as theirs, and while they lay within the boundaries of the kingdom, they had long-since made it clear that their land was their own, sovereign and outside the reach of the king. Every time, Claudius was forced to leave without the monks that he so clearly desired for his wars.\n\nThat did not mean that the king did not fight his wars, however. The news of the world outside the walls still trickled in, if slower than some of the dragons would like. Nathan was one such dragon, as tapped into the world outside as he could be while maintaining the Six Precepts. Some would have argued that he was too interested in the world at large, but he would just point them to the Fifth Precept, that a Dragon Monk must seek enlightenment.That was usually enough to stop the argument before it began, and on the few occasions that it didn't, it was enough to make any of theirs rather specious in comparison.\n\nBrother Nathan looked down at his rice bowl, thinking of the lion king. The last time that he had visited the monastery with a request for aid had been five years ago, fifteen years into Nathan's life within the golden walls. The High Abbot had dismissed him, but the red dragon had been on the walls, and he'd seen the rage in the lion's eyes. That was a man that was not used to being defied. He [i]would[/i] flex his royal privilege, sooner or later.\n\n\"Remember the Sixth, everyone,\" Brother Ethan said.\n\n\"A Dragon Monk serves a higher purpose,\" they all recited together.\n\n\"And there is no lower purpose than to serve a king, save than to serve yourself.\"\n\nThey all nodded, and they went back to eating.\n\nYet, for all that, Brother Nathan could not entirely shake the feeling that there was something more than the king out there. He did not wish to believe that the sorcerer that had circled the walls with the Grandfather had done something, because that would mean admitting that there was some weakness in the armor of the Dragon Monks. If a sorcerer had been able to affect him - affect them - then there was something wrong with their way of life...\n\nAnd if there was something wrong with their way of life, then there was something wrong with them.\n\nBrother Nathan shook his head, picking up his chopsticks and going back to his meal. He would consider this later, after they were done with the daily chores.\n\n#\n\nThe chores were done in short order and great silence across the monastery. Whether one was sweeping the grand buildings, going through the courtyard to remove any filth that had been tracked in by the hunters allowed outside the walls, or merely taking care of the dishes from dinner, chores were generally a period of levity among the monks. They were allowed to talk, and there was none of the desperation to wolf down food that came during the lunch-time hour. They were allowed to be themselves, to take their time, so long as it was done before the evening meditations.\n\nToday, Brother Nathan was aware of the greatest silence that had fallen over the monastery since the death of the First Blue, the High Abbot’'s most powerful student. It had been of old age, something that struck down blues faster than other species due to inherent problems with their aging process, but it had still been a shock at the time.\n\nYet, even the grieving silence of that day felt different to the nearly - and he had to force himself to think the word - terrified silence of those brief hours. The faces of the monks were still, solemn, quiet. An outsider would have thought them no different to the monks that littered the rest of the land, but to one that had grown up among the other dragons, he [i]knew[/i] the difference. The stoicism was there to hide the fear that built beneath their breasts.\n\nAnd he was one of those that felt that same fear. The sense of pressure all around him, as if the golden walls had become something more of a cage than a comforting shell, had grown throughout the day, as if something had been laid and was growing. He did not like it.\n\nBrother Nathan welcomed the gong that called all to their private quarters for the evening meditation, and he all but ran for his own. He passed by several other monks, jostling them and apologizing as he pushed around them. Something had all but possessed him, and he [i]needed[/i] the solitude that his quarters represented at that moment.\n\nThe quarters for the monks were not austere, nor were they ostentatious. They were merely functional, with a bed in one corner with a comfortable mat upon it, a single pillow, and a blanket that was soft enough for the comfort of sleep without being so overdone that one would be tempted to remain in bed. A cotton rug, white and pure for those that were supposed to embody that, laid in the middle of the room, set up for proper meditation before bed.\n\nHe shut the sliding paper door that was all that a monk was allowed for privacy and squatted down in the middle of the room, just as he had done in the meditation hall. He closed his eyes, forcing himself to breathe slower than he had been.\n\n[i]The meditation candle.[/i]\n\nOne was supposed to light a small candle before they started meditating, both as a means of telling others that you were meditating on the other side of the door and to remind oneself when the hour of meditation was over. The candle burned out in that time, and one would be told that they were done when the warm glow on the other side of one's closed eyelids turned to darkness.\n\nYet, he could not bring himself to stand up again. He needed the peace of mind that the precepts brought. It was a small break from tradition, but he excused it as a need to calm himself.\n\nAs he held his squat, standing on higher tiptoes than normal as the bottom half of his legs stretched hard to maintain the pose, Brother Nathan breathed in, held his breath, and slowly forced it out again. In, hold, out. In, hold, out.\n\n[i]Peace.[/i]\n\nThe precepts came to him again, and he ran through them faster than he normally would. He needed to hear them. He needed to remember to live them.\n\n[i]A Dragon Monk is generous to others.\n\nA Dragon Monk is disciplined.\n\nA Dragon Monk endures.\n\nA Dragon Monk is diligent in their efforts.\n\nA Dragon Monk is focused on enlightenment.\n\nA Dragon Monk serves a higher purpose.[/i]\n\nHe was supposed to take it slower than that, to observe each one and think about it between breaths, but he could not help himself but to rush through them. An unknown fear that was borne out of the strange pressure that even now compressed against his scales had been growing, and he needed guidance. He needed something to slow his heart and keep him from thinking about this...this [i]thing[/i] in the air that threatened his life as he knew it.\n\nBrother Nathan felt a stirring as he ran through them a second and then a third time, a little tingle that started at the base of his wings and started to run down his spine from there. He focused on that, meaning to examine it and let it go as he had always done in the past during meditation, but the tingling was...comforting, in an odd sort of way. Almost like an invisible hand running down his back, caressing him, helping him know that things were going to be okay.\n\nThe red dragon relaxed slightly, his wings losing the tension that had been keeping them so tightly furled. He rested his hands on his knees, letting his head lower until his chin rested against his chest. The firmness of his pectoral muscles supported his chin with ease, and he sighed to himself as he let that comfort continue down his spine, working all the way to his tail base and then around it, running through his hips.\n\nOnce more, he went through the Precepts.\n\n[i]A Dragon Monk is generous to others.\n\nA Dragon Monk is disciplined.\n\nA Dragon Monk endures.\n\nA Dragon Monk is diligent in their efforts.\n\nA Dragon Monk is focused on enlightenment.\n\nA Dragon Monk serves a higher purpose.[/i]\n\nIt was enough to stop the pounding of his heart, and he embraced the calming tingle that ran through his spine, already going from the base of his wings all the way to his...to his tail base...and through it...and under it...\n\nBrother Nathan bit his lips for a moment as he felt the tingle turn to something else just under his tail, almost like a feather tickling along his rim. He usually didn't think of [i]that[/i] part of himself except on the toilet, but now? Now, it felt...itchy, like it craved some sort of touch. The red dragon shook his head, telling himself that he would take greater care during his bath in the morning to clean it, trying to focus on meditation once more.\n\n[i]A Dragon Monk is generous to others.\n\nA Dragon Monk is disciplined.\n\nA Dragon Monk endures.\n\nA Dragon Monk is diligent in their efforts.\n\nA Dragon Monk is focused on enlightenment.\n\nA Dragon Monk serves a higher purpose.[/i]\n\nHe made his way through the Precepts again, but it was getting more and more distracting. He felt...something odd between his legs, almost like there was something throbbing. The dragons were under vows of chastity, and he had kept that vow since entering the monastery, but for the first time in years, he was...aware...of himself in an entirely different way.\n\nBrother Nathan bit his lips as he felt his shaft twitching slightly between his legs, trying to rise against the tight linens that he wore. The pose that he was in, the muscles that he'd gained in the monastery, made it impossible for it to 'rise' the way that it would have done in looser clothes, or even if he was standing, but he was [i]aware[/i] of his shaft trying to claim his attention, as if he were just a base beast that would listen to it that readily. He shook his head, trying to go through the Precepts again.\n\n[i]A Dragon Monk is generous to others.\n\nA Dragon Monk is disciplined.\n\nA Dragon Monk endures -[/i]\n\nHe couldn't quite reach the end of the third one before a little shiver ran up and down his spine. The 'itch' under his tail was getting worse, making him shift from foot to foot to try and grind his cheeks together, trying to keep from touching himself and thinking about it. He was trying to 'endure' that itch, but -\n\nThe tingle was getting stronger in front, too, making him all too aware of the way that his shaft was trying to rise up. The dragon gritted his teeth, trying to hold onto the third and second Precept, but the constant tingling, the odd heat in his loins, was making that more and more difficult with each passing second.\n\nEven as he tried to start from the beginning of the list of Precepts, he was finding it hard to remember just where it started. Was it the one about being disciplined, or the one about being generous? Or was it -\n\nHe groaned, finding the formerly comforting touch of that tingling sensation getting more and more distracting. That touch, which had been so much like a hand on his back to take away his fears, was becoming something else, something that almost begged him to move from this pose to something...something more base, something that would have been better suited to the weaker, submissive dragons of the old times. There were some that had failed to become warlords, after all, and those had been claimed either by other dragons or those that would like to make an example of such things. He knew what had happened to them, and -\n\nThrob.\n\nThrob.\n\nThrob.\n\nThe tingling was turning to something else, and he gritted his teeth as he pushed it down, clenching his hands into fists until it hurt. He did the same with his jaws, clenching until he was all but sure that a tooth was about to crack. Eventually, he focused on that more than the...the tingling, and he was able to stop thinking about how his shaft had gone from soft to hard, and how difficult it was to think of anything else.\n\nBut pain was not a solution to pleasure. The monks had been taught that when they first came to join the order, and he had been part of the teaching at one point. Some were so desperate not to give in and break their oath that they turned to self-harm to avoid the temptation to touch themselves. One had even found a sharp rock and had been on the verge of taking it further when they found him, stopping him before he could do it.\n\nBrother Nathan remembered the lessons that they had been given. There were steps to take with it, things to do that would allow one to keep to the oath.\n\nThe first step - that of talking to another about it, to not be alone when the temptation struck - felt too humiliating. It was late, and it was the time of meditation. He couldn't just interrupt someone else to take care of this, and to say that he, a long-standing member of the monaster, was suffering from a problem that a youngling should have conquered, felt pathetic. No, that was not an option.\n\nThe second step, to take himself to the walls and be in public so that one might see him and catch him if he gave into temptation, was likewise off the table. If he went up on the walls, he knew from experience the places to sneak down and go for a quick swim, or to go for a hunt. There were too many places to hide, and he did not trust himself.\n\nHe went through the list of four other options - each one feeling equally impossible - before he reached the last one on the list.\n\n[i]If nothing else, you may succumb, so long as you beg forgiveness and take penance on the morrow. Then, you may be forgiven, for your body is not made to offend you.[/i]\n\nBrother Nathan opened one eye, looking down at the bulge in his clothes. It had grown hard and strong, a full foot of dragon flesh, an eighth of his height sticking out from between his legs. The tip of the tent it made had already gone dark, needy and wet compared to the rest of it, and he huffed through clenched teeth as he imagined the satisfaction that he would get if he touched it and took it further.\n\nHe remained in a squat, tensing his muscles between his legs, only to huff hard as he felt his shaft jump and drag along the fabric within. It was smooth, almost soft to the touch, and he panted as it was its own pleasure, not unlike what he imagined someone's tongue would feel like down there.\n\n[i]The...the third Precept...[/i]\n\nA Dragon Monk endures.\n\nYes, he remembered that one. The temptation was there, the urge to take it further, and he felt...yes, there was a bit of wiggle-room there.\n\nHe brought his hands in slowly, caressing his bulge from either side. He was so sensitive, and his toes curled, the claws of his toes almost pushing through the rug beneath him. His tail rose higher, making him all the more conscious of the itch back there, the odd tension around his pucker that was getting worse and worse with each passing second.\n\n[i]What is wrong with me?[/i]\n\nThere was no clear answer. But the Precepts demanded that the dragons endure, and while he could not [i]finish,[/i] he could endure waves of pleasure. He would not soil himself by breaking his vow, but he would tease the edge of it, keeping himself from losing himself in the distraction.\n\nThe red dragon's legs trembled as he touched himself through the cloth, idly pulling and tugging on the layers of linen and making it rub him. The constant strokes were enough to make him hiss and huff, and he closed his eyes again, clenching them tightly.\n\nDid he imagine it, or did he hear others doing something similar? The paper walls between the monks' quarters were hardly sufficient to keep sound on the other side at the best of times, and more than one had complained about the snores of their fellows. The breaking of this oath was easily reported most nights, but if they were all affected to some extent or another -\n\nNo, no, that had to be wishful thinking, temptation to take this further. No, no, he would not give in to that sort of thinking.\n\nHe kept his breathing as quiet and soft as possible, but it was hard with the constant stimulation that he gave himself. The Precepts and their order were all but forgotten as he teased himself, focusing his meditation onto mere endurance. He could not stop himself from touching himself, but he could hold back from the final consequence of pushing it too far. By pulling on the cloth, by not humping, by just squatting there and teasing himself - and drawing his robe occasionally between his ass cheeks to scratch that needy itch back there - he was able to keep from breaking the rules and stay within them.\n\n[i]A Dragon Monk endures...[/i]\n\nThere was something that almost seemed like it was missing there, something that felt like it was off. Not wrong, but not quite right, either, as if something had changed in the Precept.\n\nThat was next to blasphemy, of course, but as he was so close to breaking the rules to begin with, it was hard to be concerned. His hips twitched, his tail rose a little higher, and -\n\nGooooong.\n\nThe great gong in the distance that called one from meditation to sleep echoed through the monastery, and he gasped as he opened his eyes. He looked down, staring at the massive wet spot that he had left in his robes, and he covered his face in embarrassment.\n\n\"What have I done...\"\n\nHe shook his head, pulling off his clothes in rapid succession. His cheeks burned so hot that they hurt, but that was nothing compared to the tension that he felt between his legs. His shaft stood out as hard and proud as it had ever done in his teens, pushed forward still further by a sac that had not felt such need and churning fullness in decades. He groaned under his breath, huffing as he clenched his hands at his sides, but...\n\nThe other end. The itch.\n\nHoping that he was not unclean, he searched through his room until he found his water bowl. It was a curved thing of reflective metal, and while it was not a mirror, it would suit his purposes.\n\nBreathing fire over the candle that he should have lit an hour ago, he lowered it between his legs as he squatted over the bowl. He glanced down -\n\nAnd he stared. There, between his spread cheeks, was a hole that was not quite right. It was...raised, inflamed, and he might have called it 'irritated' if it wasn't for the fact that it was merely...sensitive. He didn't know how it could have gotten to this condition, but now that he didn't have clothes on, it felt...better. Not good, but better, no longer begging to be rubbed and scratched the way that it had been.\n\n[i]What is wrong with me?[/i] he wondered again.\n\nThere was no answer, and he realized that he could be seen like this. The candle was meant to sit at the front of the room, near the paper walls and door. Pulling it so close to him could send shadows of himself like this through the other rooms. He blew out the candle, hoping that he hadn't embarrassed himself too badly.\n\nSleep. Sleep would help him sort this out, and hopefully by morning, that compressed, tight feeling that had encircled the monastery would have faded.\n\nHe laid down, finding the usual shed golden scale from the walls left on his pillow as it always was. The wall shed on the inside every day, and the monks were given the scales to do what they wished with them every night. Yet, this time, the golden scale felt...different. Nathan turned it around, cocking his head at an odd, pulsing, purple glow on one side. It felt almost familiar, but...\n\nThrob.\n\nClench.\n\n\"Sleep,\" he told himself, laying the golden scale beside his head as he closed his eyes. It pulsed at the edge of his awareness, and the last thing that he thought was that it had a similar, comforting feeling to the tingling that had taken him to that horny place to start with.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n[b][u][center]The End[/center][/u][/b]\n\nSummary: A dragon monastery has a brief guest, but the effects are felt almost immediately.\n\nTags: M/solo, Monk, Corruption, Dragon, Panther, Fear, Lust, Edging, No Direct Touch, Itch, Need, Magic, Boner, Masturbation, Against The Rules, Series,", "description_bbcode_parsed": "Art by Hyenaface
Story by me, Draconicon
Commissioned by justacritic

The Enlightenment of the Monastery
Chapter 1
for justacritic
by Draconicon









A Dragon Monk is generous to others.

The first precept rolled through Brother Nathan's mind as it always did during the public meditations in the afternoon. The red dragon breathed in, held the breath within his lungs, and then slowly let it out again as he moved on to the second precept.

A Dragon Monk is disciplined.

As they were forced to be by the world around them, as their monastery required of them to be able to hold what they had been given by their ancestors. He shifted his weight slightly, maintaining his meditative squat as he shifted his tail a little further up his back.

A Dragon Monk endures.

For that was what they did. He breathed in again, holding it deep, knowing that he could turn it to fire if he had need, but he let it out. There was no need to make it warmer in the meditation hall.

A Dragon Monk is diligent in their efforts.

The soft hum of the other dragons around him rolled through, a great many of them breathing in and then breathing out at the same time. The slow breathing was part and parcel to the afternoon, the thing that they all did, the studies and focus that they all pursued. Brother Nathan joined them as he breathed out for the fifth precept.

A Dragon Monk is focused on enlightenment.

For what were they without that? No more than the meanest peasant, and no longer deserving of this great place. They could not cease their pursuit of a greater sense of self, a greater realization of the world around them, lest they betray all that had come before. Another breath, to the sixth.

A Dragon Monk serves a higher purpose.

And out.

And again.

He was aware as he breathed and repeated the precepts that all the other members of the order were doing the same thing. It was what they always did after their practice on the training yard, a means of calming their blood and bringing the raised pressure to fight, to be aggressive, to be mighty and dangerous as their dragon blood demanded they be, back to the calmness of a monk's life. Such was their way. It has always been thus.

And yet, today, something was different. It was like an itch at the base of his wings, something that kept poking at his spine as if demanding his attention, trying to get him to do something about it. He didn't know what it wanted, but something was different in the world today, and it was enough to keep him from having perfect focus on the mantra that they all pursued. Here and there, there was a shift in the breathing exercise as someone or other fell out of sync with the rest of their brothers. Such things happened, but rarely.

It made him feel...uneasy, which, again, was not what these moments were supposed to be.

Brother Nathan forced the thought down, bringing his discipline to bear. The second precept would have to suffice in lieu of the calmness that he was supposed to have at that moment.

Time passed, and he rolled through the six precepts a good dozen more times before a gong sounded in the distance. The call to the meal hall was heard throughout the monastery, and Nathan, as well as all of the other dragons in the meditation hall, stood as one. They did not have to unfold their legs; their muscles were strong enough that they could rise from a squatted position with ease, despite having held it for the last hour. He stretched his legs, pushing his toes down and lifting himself higher, before standing normally once more. The stretch did him good, and he felt no stiffness as he walked out of the great hall into the courtyard.

He paused there, taking in the beauty of their home. The Monastery of the Dragon Order stood at the top of the great Esheen Mountain, a tall peak that overlooked the plains that rolled out from it in all directions. It was a natural watchtower, something that many lords had wished for their own through the years. The Monastery had stood strong against all of them, refusing to relinquish the lands that the ancient dragons had claimed as their own, and which had been handed down to those that would seek a way of peace and isolation.

The walls of the great monastery rippled out, made of living scales that self-perpetuated through a process that none of the monks, not even the High Abbot, entirely understood. Yet, the rippling golden scales that formed the walls were a living thing, spreading, shedding, and growing again through the years. There were days where the egg-shaped barrier around the monastery seemed to breathe, and when it did, not a brother in the ranks of the order could help but feel safe there, as if they were sheltered within the egg still.

Brother Nathan moved forward, descending the stone steps from the meditation hall to the great courtyard, likewise egg-shaped in the center of the monastery. From there, one could access any part of their home, from the meal hall on the north side to the flatter, more modest sleeping quarters on the west. The great gate, the only way in and out of the monastery, lay on the east side, and faced the one road that came up the mountain, and it was bordered on either side by stairs that led to the top of the walls, stairs that had the red dragon's attention despite himself.

Because they had a visitor, and it was not the typical messenger from the far-off king.

He paused in the center of the gravel courtyard, shifting from one foot to the other as he watched the High Abbot descend with a black panther at his heels. The stranger walked with purpose, yet still carried himself with a smile and a chuckle that seemed to drift on the wind. Brother Nathan could hear it despite being a hundred or more meters away, and it sent a chill down his spine to hear such an unnatural thing.

The High Abbot, a great silver dragon that had been part of the monastery for longer than Nathan had been a member and whom everyone usually called ‘the Grandfather’ due to his seniority, turned at the base of the stairs. Something was said between him and the panther, and the panther bowed. Yet, even that seemed a gesture more in play or mockery than in truth. The gates opened, and the panther turned to leave, a great flowing robe flicking out behind him.

Brother Nathan waited as the High Abbot walked his way. He bowed his head, and the silver dragon smiled.

"Brother Nathan. You should be at your meals."

"I was on my way, Grandfather, but I couldn't help but notice our guest."

"Yes, yes. He was a sorcerer that was passing through. Pay him no mind."

A sorcerer? Well, that answered some few questions, though it raised more. The red dragon raised an eyebrow as they walked along, folding his hands behind him. The plain but tight garments he wore pulled all the tighter around his shoulders, making his chest and arms stand out more distinctively than usual. It was immodest, he supposed, but there was little to be done about it. The training that the monks went through to protect their monastery - and to fight for those that needed their protection - was sufficient to leave them all but bursting through their clothes at the best of times. It was something that they dealt with as best they could.

"I did not know that we had such guests," Nathan said.

"I would not have allowed him in, normally, but he seemed trustworthy enough."

"How so?"

"He did not agree with the king."

"Ah."

"Indeed. And he was willing to stay for merely a short walk along the walls. He spoke much of his philosophy; I did not agree with it, but he had thought it through, and the thoughts of another scholar are no danger to one that has thought through his own beliefs."

"You are an icon to us all, Grandfather."

"I am merely older, young one. You will have such experience in due time."

The older dragon and younger reached the meal hall, a great building with a triangular tiled roof that reached a greater balcony at the top, where those like the High Abbot and his other, more elderly companions would take their meal. Nathan said his goodbyes and joined the line for the food that was being served for the day. All around him were other dragons, each dressed in similar greens, grays, and tans, their linens pulled tight around bodies that were never entirely meant for civilized clothing.

Such was the reason for the monastery being established so long ago. Dragons had always been a threat, too lost in their instincts and their need to take and break the things around them. Each dragon was born a warlord in his own mind, and each of them had the power to fight many lesser species with ease. To be allowed to roam free, to throw oneself to the winds and trust only to instincts and desire, was to set the world to flame.

And so, they gathered here, submitting themselves to the Six Precepts. Here, they were able to tame their baser urges. Here, they were able to be more than the beasts that they would otherwise become.

Brother Nathan took his bowl of rice and river fish with a nod of thanks, joining one cluster of red and blue dragons in one of the meal pits. Many dug-out holes filled the hall, allowing one to settle into a sunken area where they could socialize briefly between one another. Most of the dragons were apologetic as they settled in, all of them aware of the slight smell that still clung to their scales after their long practice, but the apologies were all accepted and waved on, everyone knowing that they were going to be like that for a while.

Normally, the pits were filled with conversation, but today? Today, they were all but silent, everyone looking contemplative, and the food was hardly touched.

Brother Nathan settled between a blue dragon and a red one, looking at his own bowl. He hesitated for but a moment before saying what they were all thinking.

"Something's wrong," he said.

"You feel it, too?" one of them asked.

"I feel...something."

"I wondered if it was just me; there was this...pressure during meditation. As if something was watching."

"Not just watching, but circling, like a noose."

"Or chaining us down..."

Brother Nathan had not meant for it to get so out of hand as that; there was no sense of true impending danger, or they would have seen something, he was sure of that. It had only been a sense of something off, something different in the monastery.

He'd thought, perhaps, that it might have been the sorcerer, but that felt impossible to him. There were things that magicians could do, of course, but such things were minor in the grand scheme of things, and required a weak mind to be able to fully affect another. The enchantments of sorcerers only worked if they were able to burrow through the willpower of their target, and to do that, one had to believe the illusions that the sorcerer presented.

A monastery of trained dragons, of monks that had learned long ago that to control themselves was the only way to be accepted, was not so easy a target as that, and he refused to believe that someone could fool the Grandfather so readily.

Before he could say another word, one of the blue dragons in their pit - a particularly hawk-nosed male by the name of Brother Ethan - tapped his chopsticks hard against the edge of his bowl. The soft sound of wood clacking was nonetheless firm enough to get their attention and silence them.

"There is no threat to us from inside. The only threat that we need be concerned with is the ever-meddling King Claudius to the east."

On that, the dragons could agree on, and the conversation shifted from the unseen threat that they had all been completely sure that they'd felt but a moment ago to the lion that had been trying to drag them down from the mountain for years.

Brother Nathan remembered the few times that the king himself had come to the monastery, always with the purpose of dragging them in for this war or that. Every time, he came with the claim that they were part of the kingdom and that, as such, they should come to answer his calls to war. Every time, the High Abbot had stated that they had claimed this mountain as theirs, and while they lay within the boundaries of the kingdom, they had long-since made it clear that their land was their own, sovereign and outside the reach of the king. Every time, Claudius was forced to leave without the monks that he so clearly desired for his wars.

That did not mean that the king did not fight his wars, however. The news of the world outside the walls still trickled in, if slower than some of the dragons would like. Nathan was one such dragon, as tapped into the world outside as he could be while maintaining the Six Precepts. Some would have argued that he was too interested in the world at large, but he would just point them to the Fifth Precept, that a Dragon Monk must seek enlightenment.That was usually enough to stop the argument before it began, and on the few occasions that it didn't, it was enough to make any of theirs rather specious in comparison.

Brother Nathan looked down at his rice bowl, thinking of the lion king. The last time that he had visited the monastery with a request for aid had been five years ago, fifteen years into Nathan's life within the golden walls. The High Abbot had dismissed him, but the red dragon had been on the walls, and he'd seen the rage in the lion's eyes. That was a man that was not used to being defied. He would flex his royal privilege, sooner or later.

"Remember the Sixth, everyone," Brother Ethan said.

"A Dragon Monk serves a higher purpose," they all recited together.

"And there is no lower purpose than to serve a king, save than to serve yourself."

They all nodded, and they went back to eating.

Yet, for all that, Brother Nathan could not entirely shake the feeling that there was something more than the king out there. He did not wish to believe that the sorcerer that had circled the walls with the Grandfather had done something, because that would mean admitting that there was some weakness in the armor of the Dragon Monks. If a sorcerer had been able to affect him - affect them - then there was something wrong with their way of life...

And if there was something wrong with their way of life, then there was something wrong with them.

Brother Nathan shook his head, picking up his chopsticks and going back to his meal. He would consider this later, after they were done with the daily chores.

#

The chores were done in short order and great silence across the monastery. Whether one was sweeping the grand buildings, going through the courtyard to remove any filth that had been tracked in by the hunters allowed outside the walls, or merely taking care of the dishes from dinner, chores were generally a period of levity among the monks. They were allowed to talk, and there was none of the desperation to wolf down food that came during the lunch-time hour. They were allowed to be themselves, to take their time, so long as it was done before the evening meditations.

Today, Brother Nathan was aware of the greatest silence that had fallen over the monastery since the death of the First Blue, the High Abbot’'s most powerful student. It had been of old age, something that struck down blues faster than other species due to inherent problems with their aging process, but it had still been a shock at the time.

Yet, even the grieving silence of that day felt different to the nearly - and he had to force himself to think the word - terrified silence of those brief hours. The faces of the monks were still, solemn, quiet. An outsider would have thought them no different to the monks that littered the rest of the land, but to one that had grown up among the other dragons, he knew the difference. The stoicism was there to hide the fear that built beneath their breasts.

And he was one of those that felt that same fear. The sense of pressure all around him, as if the golden walls had become something more of a cage than a comforting shell, had grown throughout the day, as if something had been laid and was growing. He did not like it.

Brother Nathan welcomed the gong that called all to their private quarters for the evening meditation, and he all but ran for his own. He passed by several other monks, jostling them and apologizing as he pushed around them. Something had all but possessed him, and he needed the solitude that his quarters represented at that moment.

The quarters for the monks were not austere, nor were they ostentatious. They were merely functional, with a bed in one corner with a comfortable mat upon it, a single pillow, and a blanket that was soft enough for the comfort of sleep without being so overdone that one would be tempted to remain in bed. A cotton rug, white and pure for those that were supposed to embody that, laid in the middle of the room, set up for proper meditation before bed.

He shut the sliding paper door that was all that a monk was allowed for privacy and squatted down in the middle of the room, just as he had done in the meditation hall. He closed his eyes, forcing himself to breathe slower than he had been.

The meditation candle.

One was supposed to light a small candle before they started meditating, both as a means of telling others that you were meditating on the other side of the door and to remind oneself when the hour of meditation was over. The candle burned out in that time, and one would be told that they were done when the warm glow on the other side of one's closed eyelids turned to darkness.

Yet, he could not bring himself to stand up again. He needed the peace of mind that the precepts brought. It was a small break from tradition, but he excused it as a need to calm himself.

As he held his squat, standing on higher tiptoes than normal as the bottom half of his legs stretched hard to maintain the pose, Brother Nathan breathed in, held his breath, and slowly forced it out again. In, hold, out. In, hold, out.

Peace.

The precepts came to him again, and he ran through them faster than he normally would. He needed to hear them. He needed to remember to live them.

A Dragon Monk is generous to others.

A Dragon Monk is disciplined.

A Dragon Monk endures.

A Dragon Monk is diligent in their efforts.

A Dragon Monk is focused on enlightenment.

A Dragon Monk serves a higher purpose.

He was supposed to take it slower than that, to observe each one and think about it between breaths, but he could not help himself but to rush through them. An unknown fear that was borne out of the strange pressure that even now compressed against his scales had been growing, and he needed guidance. He needed something to slow his heart and keep him from thinking about this...this thing in the air that threatened his life as he knew it.

Brother Nathan felt a stirring as he ran through them a second and then a third time, a little tingle that started at the base of his wings and started to run down his spine from there. He focused on that, meaning to examine it and let it go as he had always done in the past during meditation, but the tingling was...comforting, in an odd sort of way. Almost like an invisible hand running down his back, caressing him, helping him know that things were going to be okay.

The red dragon relaxed slightly, his wings losing the tension that had been keeping them so tightly furled. He rested his hands on his knees, letting his head lower until his chin rested against his chest. The firmness of his pectoral muscles supported his chin with ease, and he sighed to himself as he let that comfort continue down his spine, working all the way to his tail base and then around it, running through his hips.

Once more, he went through the Precepts.

A Dragon Monk is generous to others.

A Dragon Monk is disciplined.

A Dragon Monk endures.

A Dragon Monk is diligent in their efforts.

A Dragon Monk is focused on enlightenment.

A Dragon Monk serves a higher purpose.

It was enough to stop the pounding of his heart, and he embraced the calming tingle that ran through his spine, already going from the base of his wings all the way to his...to his tail base...and through it...and under it...

Brother Nathan bit his lips for a moment as he felt the tingle turn to something else just under his tail, almost like a feather tickling along his rim. He usually didn't think of that part of himself except on the toilet, but now? Now, it felt...itchy, like it craved some sort of touch. The red dragon shook his head, telling himself that he would take greater care during his bath in the morning to clean it, trying to focus on meditation once more.

A Dragon Monk is generous to others.

A Dragon Monk is disciplined.

A Dragon Monk endures.

A Dragon Monk is diligent in their efforts.

A Dragon Monk is focused on enlightenment.

A Dragon Monk serves a higher purpose.

He made his way through the Precepts again, but it was getting more and more distracting. He felt...something odd between his legs, almost like there was something throbbing. The dragons were under vows of chastity, and he had kept that vow since entering the monastery, but for the first time in years, he was...aware...of himself in an entirely different way.

Brother Nathan bit his lips as he felt his shaft twitching slightly between his legs, trying to rise against the tight linens that he wore. The pose that he was in, the muscles that he'd gained in the monastery, made it impossible for it to 'rise' the way that it would have done in looser clothes, or even if he was standing, but he was aware of his shaft trying to claim his attention, as if he were just a base beast that would listen to it that readily. He shook his head, trying to go through the Precepts again.

A Dragon Monk is generous to others.

A Dragon Monk is disciplined.

A Dragon Monk endures -

He couldn't quite reach the end of the third one before a little shiver ran up and down his spine. The 'itch' under his tail was getting worse, making him shift from foot to foot to try and grind his cheeks together, trying to keep from touching himself and thinking about it. He was trying to 'endure' that itch, but -

The tingle was getting stronger in front, too, making him all too aware of the way that his shaft was trying to rise up. The dragon gritted his teeth, trying to hold onto the third and second Precept, but the constant tingling, the odd heat in his loins, was making that more and more difficult with each passing second.

Even as he tried to start from the beginning of the list of Precepts, he was finding it hard to remember just where it started. Was it the one about being disciplined, or the one about being generous? Or was it -

He groaned, finding the formerly comforting touch of that tingling sensation getting more and more distracting. That touch, which had been so much like a hand on his back to take away his fears, was becoming something else, something that almost begged him to move from this pose to something...something more base, something that would have been better suited to the weaker, submissive dragons of the old times. There were some that had failed to become warlords, after all, and those had been claimed either by other dragons or those that would like to make an example of such things. He knew what had happened to them, and -

Throb.

Throb.

Throb.

The tingling was turning to something else, and he gritted his teeth as he pushed it down, clenching his hands into fists until it hurt. He did the same with his jaws, clenching until he was all but sure that a tooth was about to crack. Eventually, he focused on that more than the...the tingling, and he was able to stop thinking about how his shaft had gone from soft to hard, and how difficult it was to think of anything else.

But pain was not a solution to pleasure. The monks had been taught that when they first came to join the order, and he had been part of the teaching at one point. Some were so desperate not to give in and break their oath that they turned to self-harm to avoid the temptation to touch themselves. One had even found a sharp rock and had been on the verge of taking it further when they found him, stopping him before he could do it.

Brother Nathan remembered the lessons that they had been given. There were steps to take with it, things to do that would allow one to keep to the oath.

The first step - that of talking to another about it, to not be alone when the temptation struck - felt too humiliating. It was late, and it was the time of meditation. He couldn't just interrupt someone else to take care of this, and to say that he, a long-standing member of the monaster, was suffering from a problem that a youngling should have conquered, felt pathetic. No, that was not an option.

The second step, to take himself to the walls and be in public so that one might see him and catch him if he gave into temptation, was likewise off the table. If he went up on the walls, he knew from experience the places to sneak down and go for a quick swim, or to go for a hunt. There were too many places to hide, and he did not trust himself.

He went through the list of four other options - each one feeling equally impossible - before he reached the last one on the list.

If nothing else, you may succumb, so long as you beg forgiveness and take penance on the morrow. Then, you may be forgiven, for your body is not made to offend you.

Brother Nathan opened one eye, looking down at the bulge in his clothes. It had grown hard and strong, a full foot of dragon flesh, an eighth of his height sticking out from between his legs. The tip of the tent it made had already gone dark, needy and wet compared to the rest of it, and he huffed through clenched teeth as he imagined the satisfaction that he would get if he touched it and took it further.

He remained in a squat, tensing his muscles between his legs, only to huff hard as he felt his shaft jump and drag along the fabric within. It was smooth, almost soft to the touch, and he panted as it was its own pleasure, not unlike what he imagined someone's tongue would feel like down there.

The...the third Precept...

A Dragon Monk endures.

Yes, he remembered that one. The temptation was there, the urge to take it further, and he felt...yes, there was a bit of wiggle-room there.

He brought his hands in slowly, caressing his bulge from either side. He was so sensitive, and his toes curled, the claws of his toes almost pushing through the rug beneath him. His tail rose higher, making him all the more conscious of the itch back there, the odd tension around his pucker that was getting worse and worse with each passing second.

What is wrong with me?

There was no clear answer. But the Precepts demanded that the dragons endure, and while he could not finish, he could endure waves of pleasure. He would not soil himself by breaking his vow, but he would tease the edge of it, keeping himself from losing himself in the distraction.

The red dragon's legs trembled as he touched himself through the cloth, idly pulling and tugging on the layers of linen and making it rub him. The constant strokes were enough to make him hiss and huff, and he closed his eyes again, clenching them tightly.

Did he imagine it, or did he hear others doing something similar? The paper walls between the monks' quarters were hardly sufficient to keep sound on the other side at the best of times, and more than one had complained about the snores of their fellows. The breaking of this oath was easily reported most nights, but if they were all affected to some extent or another -

No, no, that had to be wishful thinking, temptation to take this further. No, no, he would not give in to that sort of thinking.

He kept his breathing as quiet and soft as possible, but it was hard with the constant stimulation that he gave himself. The Precepts and their order were all but forgotten as he teased himself, focusing his meditation onto mere endurance. He could not stop himself from touching himself, but he could hold back from the final consequence of pushing it too far. By pulling on the cloth, by not humping, by just squatting there and teasing himself - and drawing his robe occasionally between his ass cheeks to scratch that needy itch back there - he was able to keep from breaking the rules and stay within them.

A Dragon Monk endures...

There was something that almost seemed like it was missing there, something that felt like it was off. Not wrong, but not quite right, either, as if something had changed in the Precept.

That was next to blasphemy, of course, but as he was so close to breaking the rules to begin with, it was hard to be concerned. His hips twitched, his tail rose a little higher, and -

Gooooong.

The great gong in the distance that called one from meditation to sleep echoed through the monastery, and he gasped as he opened his eyes. He looked down, staring at the massive wet spot that he had left in his robes, and he covered his face in embarrassment.

"What have I done..."

He shook his head, pulling off his clothes in rapid succession. His cheeks burned so hot that they hurt, but that was nothing compared to the tension that he felt between his legs. His shaft stood out as hard and proud as it had ever done in his teens, pushed forward still further by a sac that had not felt such need and churning fullness in decades. He groaned under his breath, huffing as he clenched his hands at his sides, but...

The other end. The itch.

Hoping that he was not unclean, he searched through his room until he found his water bowl. It was a curved thing of reflective metal, and while it was not a mirror, it would suit his purposes.

Breathing fire over the candle that he should have lit an hour ago, he lowered it between his legs as he squatted over the bowl. He glanced down -

And he stared. There, between his spread cheeks, was a hole that was not quite right. It was...raised, inflamed, and he might have called it 'irritated' if it wasn't for the fact that it was merely...sensitive. He didn't know how it could have gotten to this condition, but now that he didn't have clothes on, it felt...better. Not good, but better, no longer begging to be rubbed and scratched the way that it had been.

What is wrong with me? he wondered again.

There was no answer, and he realized that he could be seen like this. The candle was meant to sit at the front of the room, near the paper walls and door. Pulling it so close to him could send shadows of himself like this through the other rooms. He blew out the candle, hoping that he hadn't embarrassed himself too badly.

Sleep. Sleep would help him sort this out, and hopefully by morning, that compressed, tight feeling that had encircled the monastery would have faded.

He laid down, finding the usual shed golden scale from the walls left on his pillow as it always was. The wall shed on the inside every day, and the monks were given the scales to do what they wished with them every night. Yet, this time, the golden scale felt...different. Nathan turned it around, cocking his head at an odd, pulsing, purple glow on one side. It felt almost familiar, but...

Throb.

Clench.

"Sleep," he told himself, laying the golden scale beside his head as he closed his eyes. It pulsed at the edge of his awareness, and the last thing that he thought was that it had a similar, comforting feeling to the tingling that had taken him to that horny place to start with.










The End


Summary: A dragon monastery has a brief guest, but the effects are felt almost immediately.

Tags: M/solo, Monk, Corruption, Dragon, Panther, Fear, Lust, Edging, No Direct Touch, Itch, Need, Magic, Boner, Masturbation, Against The Rules, Series,", "writing": "", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "", "pools_count": 0, "title": "The Enlightenment of the Monastery 1", "deleted": "f", "public": "t", "mimetype": "image/jpeg", "pagecount": "1", "rating_id": "2", "rating_name": "Adult", "ratings": [ { "content_tag_id": "4", "name": "Sexual Themes", "description": "Erotic imagery, sexual activity or arousal", "rating_id": "2" } ], "submission_type_id": "1", "type_name": "Picture/Pinup", "guest_block": "f", "friends_only": "f", "comments_count": "0", "views": "235" }