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Thankfully, he offers you a way to improve your grade. \n\nKinks: Teacher/student, Second Person POV, Oral, Fingering, Power Imbalance, Size Difference, Threat of Getting Caught\n\nCommission for the delicious [url=https://twitter.com/Reyathae]Reyathae[/url].\n\n[url=https://discord.gg/GddZvgqXgd]Hey, y'all should join my Discord! It's multifandom, kinky, and queer as fuck.[/url]\n\n[url=https://kimberlyeab.carrd.co/]Visit my website to see where else you can find my work, follow my socials, or support me on Patreon![/url]", "description_bbcode_parsed": "Mr. Mordaut is a patient teacher but even his patience is put to the test when you're caught plagiarizing an essay. Thankfully, he offers you a way to improve your grade.

Kinks: Teacher/student, Second Person POV, Oral, Fingering, Power Imbalance, Size Difference, Threat of Getting Caught

Commission for the delicious Reyathae.

Hey, y'all should join my Discord! It's multifandom, kinky, and queer as fuck.

Visit my website to see where else you can find my work, follow my socials, or support me on Patreon!", "writing": "You have never been particularly good when it comes to school, always being distracted by what you wanted to do after class, dreaming of adventures and playing games. Today is no different than the rest with your mind wandering to the fantasy of what you intend to do once the bell has rung.\n\nCan anyone honestly fault you for that? The room is too warm, the clock too slow, and your teacher is talking far too lethargically to actually bother paying attention to. It's the perfect environment to take a nap but you know that you couldn't get away with something like that.\n\nThe teacher might've been an old dragon but age has hardly tapered his senses. His gaze is predatory and cunning as he looks out upon the assembled students as if waiting for someone to step out of line so he can scold them.\n\nThis is the famous Mr. Mordaut, known throughout all the realms for being a favourite guest of many adventurers such as yourself. If that's the case then clearly you just need to have some more appreciation for the fact that he has decided to take you on as an actual long-term student of his.\n\nYet, it's hard to appreciate that when you're sitting there, barely managing to stay awake as he drones on about a subject that you have little interest in. Who in their right mind thought that an hour-long lecture about herbology is an appropriate topic to waste your time with?\n\nStill, Mr. Mordaut is at least a striking figure, managing to look interesting even if his lecture is on the verge of reducing you to tears.\n\nHe is a mighty red dragon, lumbering and huge, easily the size of several adventurers like yourself. His scales are well-manicured and clean, glistening in the light like freshly chiseled rubies. And perched upon his nose are a pair of reading glasses which do nothing to soften those cold eyes which briefly fall upon you.\n\nYou can't help but sit up a little straighter as he looks directly at you, going rigid and proper. It's like his gaze has an almost hypnotic quality to it, getting those in the room to behave, merely by focusing on them for a few fleeting moments.\n\n``Can anyone in the class tell me what ingredients go into a vial of blamish oil?'' Mr. Mordaut asks.\n\nThis is where you realize that you have completely missed the prior lesson. Though that's okay because he is not calling you out to...\n\nOh... oh no...\n\n``Do you know the answer, dear?'' he asks, looking directly at you. The smile he bears tells you that he knows exactly what he's doing.\n\nBlamish oil, blamish oil... what is that even used for?\n\n``Uh...'' You swallow a lump in your throat. ``Tarromin and something?''\n\nMr. Mordaut narrows his gaze and loudly huffs, causing his two mighty nostrils to flare with a practiced disdain.\n\nAnother hand goes up and he instead looks towards it, saving you from that judgmental glare. It would've been appreciated if it was literally anyone else except for the woman sitting next to you.\n\n``What is blamish snail slime and harralander, Mr. Mordaut,'' Tracy answers.\n\nMr. Morduat nods and offers her a warmer smile, briefly showing off those sharp draconian teeth hidden away behind his lips. ``Very good, Tracy.''\n\nFuck you, Tracy.\n\nIt looks like Mr. Mordaut is about to continue with his lecture but mercifully the clock upon the wall ticks over and a bell starts to chime, ringing loudly throughout the room. A few heroes are awoken, blinking and looking around in utter confusion.\n\n``I suppose that is all the time that we have today,'' Mr. Mordaut states before clearing his throat. ``I would suggest that you all read chapter three of advanced questing and finish your tick manipulation homework for tomorrow.''\n\nOne by one the other students start to pull out runic scrolls, using them to poof into the aether. \n\nYou are about to grab one yourself when Mr. Mordaut clears his throat, drawing your attention towards him instead. ``I was wondering if I might actually be able to talk to you after class, dear?''\n\nShit... what is this about?\n\nYou let the scroll slip back into your bag as you instead get up, making your way over to his desk. It seems that literally everyone else, including that bitch Tracy, has already teleported out of the room. This means that it's just you and Mr. Mordaut now.\n\n``Is everything okay, Mr. M?'' you ask.\n\n``Please...'' Mr. Mordaut looks down at you. Even if he isn't trying too, you can't help but feel like he's glaring right into your soul. ``You can call me Mr. Mordaut.''\n\n``R-right,'' you stammer. ``Something the matter, Mr. Mordaut?''\n\nMr. Mordaut's lips turn upwards, ever so slightly. Yet, it seems more like the dragon is playing with his food rather than addressing one of his students. There is a glimmer in his eye, a note of coy understanding.\n\n``I was grading papers yesterday,'' he states, snapping two talons together and causing one such paper to pop into existence and land heavy upon his desk. You recognize it as your own and can't help but notice that there is a big red `F' printed upon the front of it. ``And I couldn't help but notice... an irregularity with it.''\n\nYour eyes widen. ``Pardon?''\n\n``I've graded many papers in my long life, dear,'' Mr. Morduat says, taping a talon against the cover. ``And I've learned to detect plagiarism whenever it's presented to me.''\n\nYou swallow a lump in your throat. ``Oh?''\n\n``Now, I want the truth from you,'' he continues, meeting your eye as he glowers at you over the rim of his glasses. Though this eye contact lasts for only a second as your own gaze flinches away in shame. ``I've been informed that a good number of my students are using this new... magic to generate answers for my essays. Are you familiar with a spell known as Runelite?''\n\nA creeping guilt starts to grip at your psyche, making itself known.\n\nFuck!\n\nYou sigh. ``Yeah.''\n\n``And you are aware that plagiarism will not be tolerated in my class. Is that correct?'' Mr. Mordaut then asks.\n\nYou can only nod.\n\n``Now I am not entirely heartless,'' Mr. Mordaut goes on. You feel a little hope and look up, seeing his catty little smile. ``And I'd be willing to arrange an alternative assignment in order to make up for the deficit that a zero would leave upon your final grade.''\n\nYou can't help but smile. ``Really?''\n\nMr. Mordaut nods and you can't help but feel a little relief. The dragon might be intimidating but he doesn't seem like a liar.\n\n``I'll do whatever,'' you quickly say, unable to really hide your relief as you grin at him. You might dislike school but you are at least aware of the fact that passing is important to your future adventures. ``Any homework, any tests, any assignments that you can think of. I'll even write another...''\n\nMr. Mordaut suddenly stands up, cutting you off. You can't help but notice that he is exposing himself to you. His sheathe is out in the open with the tip of something fleshy poking through. It's a lighter hue of red compared to his scales, though still a deep crimson in colour.\n\nA fierce blush overcomes you and you force your gaze away from it, looking him in the eye instead. ``And what exactly do you...''\n\nHe merely lifts a brow.\n\nNo... no way.\n\n``I have some more papers that need grading and I require some assistance in blowing off a little steam while doing so,'' Mr. Mordaut tells you, smirking. ``You'll be graded on your performance.''\n\nYou just stand there like a deer in the headlights. The words make sense but the reality of the situation refuses to really dawn on you.\n\n``You don't want to fail, now do you?'' Mr. Mordaut states, cocking a brow.\n\nYou shake your head.\n\n``Then get over here,'' he instructs, settling back down upon the floor. His claw arcs through the air, gesturing you closer. Those eyes remain upon you, filled with a playfulness that you are not familiar with. ``I don't appreciate having my time wasted and I think you'd agree that your essay was a tremendous waste of my time already.''\n\nYou stand there, hesitantly, unsure of what to really do. This class is important to your future, you know as much. Yet, can you really debase yourself merely for a good grade?\n\nMr. Mordaut turns his attention towards his papers, grabbing the first of them and slowly scanning it. ``Tick tock, dear. This offer won't last forever.''\n\nThis finally snaps you out of your stupor as you kick into gear, quickly moving around his desk. You can't help but consider discarding your ranger gear as you reach for the waistline of your green tunic.\n\n``Please keep your clothes on,'' Mr. Mordaut says, stopping that idea dead in its tracks. ``The last thing I need is you leaving some evidence behind by accident. That might bring about some... difficult questions.''\n\nThere is just enough space between himself and his desk that you manage to slip in underneath. Thankfully, the table is dragon-sized, meaning that it isn't overly cramped underneath.\n\nThough it is still tight enough that your world becomes utterly dominated by him in this new setting. You can feel the universal warmth of his body, constantly radiating outwards and warming the very air around you. You can see nothing but his scales and that fleshy growth poking through from within his sheathe. Both are darkened as very little light actually reaches you from down here. Both of these sensations pale in comparison to the raw taste and smell of this encounter. The spicy essence of a dragon's musk hangs so heavy upon the air. It honestly makes it rather hard to think straight.\n\nSomething chirps within the back of your mind. It's a Runelite notification, telling you that you've started a new quest.\n\nTeacher's Pet\n\nRecommended Equipment:\n\nStamina Potion\n\nProtection Prayers\n\nObjective:\n\nSurvive\n\nThat probably doesn't bode well.\n\nYou just sit there, for a long moment, gawking at this strange anatomy. It's so hard to focus, so difficult to pull your mind through the fog of heavy smells and tantalizing tastes which fill the air around you. You're utterly frozen, petrified, unsure of what to really do.\n\n``Do you need some advice, dear?'' Mr. Mordaut asks.\n\nYou glance up but are unable to see his face as it's obscured by the desk which lingers above you. Though you can only imagine that he's grinning at your current predicament.\n\n``Yes please,'' you whisper.\n\nMr. Mordaut hums. ``Start by peppering my sheathe with little kisses while ever so often doing the same with the little bit of my penis that's exposed.'' He holds onto that teacher's tone, neutral and unwavering. His technical language makes it feel like he's explaining how to craft runes and not how to fellate him. ``That should help you along with this lesson.''\n\nYou decide to take his advice as you lean closer, carefully kissing the side of his sheathe. His scales are so warm against your lips and both the taste and smell grow in their intensity. It's a downright alluring combination to contend with, starting you on the path to being properly cock drunk.\n\n``Very good,'' Mr. Mordaut murmurs, betraying the smallest hint of pleasure with a tiny moan escaping him. ``I knew you were the student for this job.''\n\nYou circle around his sheathe, kissing it again and again, not stopping until you've done an entire circle around it. Only then do you dip forwards and kiss the tip of his erection, pressing your lips firmly against it. The skin is smooth and slick with a salty tasting fluid. It seems sensitive too as you can hear a small moan escape him.\n\nYour mind is further clouded by the hormones which are brewing within your system, your gaze growing foggy along with your thoughts. There is a new heat within your core and it starts to spread throughout your body. You can feel it so heavy within the crotch of your gear, causing a certain organ to warm and become excited in response.\n\nOne of your hands starts to travel downwards, as if it has a mind of its own, tracing the contours of your tunic. You wish that he would've allowed you to remove it but unfortunately you have to work with the limitation, pawing at yourself through the fabric instead.\n\nMr. Mordaut seems to respond favourably to the treatment. Slowly, but surely, each kiss and suckle seems to make his cock edge forth a little more, growing longer and fatter before you. You focus on the parts that's most recently exposed, bathing it in the relentless attention of your tongue and lips.\n\n``I must compliment you on your hard work,'' Mr. Mordaut states, scoffing. ``It's only a shame that it took until now to bring it about.'' He tuts. ``It's okay, I am a very patient drake and am more than willing to tutor you accordingly.''\n\nFinally, his cock becomes fully exposed, hanging in the middle of the air. Its presence is intimidating and large, pushing you back against the desk. There is no room to squirm or get away with your only option of retreat being to please him and be granted freedom.\n\nHis anatomy is larger than any you have seen before, thicker and bulkier in its reddened stature. It only makes sense considering his size and draconic heritage. There is no way that a mere mortal such as yourself could ever hope to handle this entire thing.\n\nAll in all, it's about a foot in length, maybe a little more or a little less, being a smidge larger than the size of your own forearm. It has a speared tip which descends into a sleek length with various ridges upon it. All of which end in a mighty knot that looks downright intimidating to handle, like it can split you in two if used inappropriately. The entire thing is smooth, not scaly, slick with fluids and just twitching in anticipation.\n\nIt is probably for the best that you please him.\n\nMr. Mordaut let out a heavy sigh, stretching. As he does so, his cock jostles and a bead of something pearly and white snaps forth from the very tip and falls upon your tunic.\n\nYou trail a line of kisses up along his shaft, moving towards this sweet spot. You can taste him as his slick essence is so heavy, groaning as his salty flavours seem to become your world. Once at the tip, you wrap your lips around it, suckling firmly. Your tongue moves nimbly around his flesh in order to collect his sinful taste right from the source.\n\nOnly, Mr. Mordaut draws away soon after, easing back.\n\nThrough the haze of sex, you whine, looking up at him and wondering what you could've possibly done wrong. Yet, he doesn't seem miffed. Instead, he looks at you with a coy little smile upon his razor-sharp teeth. \n\nHe is planning something, that much is obvious. Yet, you can't imagine what it is.\n\n``It wouldn't be a makeup test if there wasn't an actual grade at stake,'' Mr. Mordaut declares.\n\nHe snaps his fingers together and suddenly a series of black outlines appear upon his cock, starting about midway down his erection and heading lower still. Each is separated by about an inch or so. Next to all of them is a different letter grade, starting from a D and going all the way up to an A+. This final grade will require you to go all the way down to the very base of his sheathe in order to achieve it.\n\nA part of you remembers some cryptic dialog about getting an A+ on a difficult test in order to finish an elite achievement diary.\n\nYet, you focus on the present as you swallow a lump in your throat, seeing how daunting this test really is. There is some betrayal in your eye, you know as much. Wasn't the act alone enough to guarantee you a good mark in his class?\n\nHe seems amused by your look. ``Let's see how well you've been studying, dear.'' He eases forwards again, pressing you back under his desk and hiding you away from the outside world. ``Don't stop no matter what. Do you understand me?''\n\nYou nod. ``Yes, Sir.''\n\n``Sir?'' Mr. Mordaut asks, chuckling. ``My oh my... is someone suddenly feeling obedient? That would've helped you prior to your doctored paper.''\n\nYou flush as you lament this little slip of your tongue, burning as you realize that maybe, just maybe, you're enjoying this. Honestly, who knew that school could be this fun. If every lecture is like this then maybe you wouldn't need to use Runelite to... assist with your classwork.\n\nYour hand is now pressing down fully upon the crotch of your attire, grinding against your loins. The pawing feels nice though you wish for something more, something deeper than that. Maybe if you got a good grade then Mr. Mordaut might be willing to help you out.\n\nYou turn your attention fully towards your classwork, focusing on the impressive erection in front of you. You ease forwards and take the speared tip between your lips. Just this one little motion alone is enough to strain your jaw. Yet, you power through the discomfort and focus fully on the task at hand, lewdly suckling upon your teacher.\n\nBack and forth, you start to bob, gliding across the first inch or so of this dragons' anatomy. These first motions are halting and far away from even earning a `D'. Yet, it's a start. It gives you time to get used to the size and shape, the raw warmth and taste of it. You swirl your tongue around and close your eyes, losing yourself to each downwards motion.\n\nMr. Mordaut isn't a very vocal lover. Still, there are still distinct tells that bleed through. The dragon makes all sorts of noises: moans which rumble forth like instinctive growls, hushed gasps that seem out of character, and of course the constant sound of his shivering body as he twitches against your tongue.\n\nIt's hard work but you feel him venturing a little deeper with every single motion. It isn't long before your tongue is forced against the bottom of your mouth, your palate now fully occupied by his girthy erection. Still, you continue ahead regardless, slurping and sputtering lewdly upon him.\n\nAs you crack open an eye, you see that you're at least approaching the `D' line, inching sluggishly towards it. Honestly, considering how much of his mass already fills your mouth, even this slimmest of passing grades still feels like it's an Olympic feat. \n\nYet, you feel obliged to go on still, pushing yourself harder than before. Already you can feel that speared tip tickling the back of your throat. It prods against your airway, causing you to halt and let out a few sputtering gagging notes in response.\n\nMr. Mordaut sighs, sounding so disappointed. ``Surely you can do better than that, dear. Please remember that this paper was worth forty percent of your final grade.''\n\nYou ball your hands into fists and try easing forwards once again. Now that you're ready for it, you manage to press him against the back of your mouth, slowing down to a crawl as you continue to force yourself forwards. When brute force doesn't work, you inch back and resume bobbing instead, trying to make his shaft as slick as possible. \n\nIt feels like a failure but you have a feeling that getting sick will not score you especially high marks.\n\n``Oh bother,'' Mr. Mordaut sighs.\n\nYou wonder what he's distracted by until you hear the classroom door open as hurried footsteps move towards the front of the class.\n\n``Ah Tracy,'' Mr. Mordaut greets, managing to keep his voice level. ``Was there something that I can help you with?''\n\nThat bitch...\n\nYou think about stopping but Mr. Mordaut's words ring through your mind. He told you not to stop, no matter what, and you have no intention of going against his word. Hell... it might even be a little much-needed payback for putting you in this position in the first place.\n\nSo, you continue along, bobbing back and forth with all of your prior ferocity. You briefly wonder if the crude sounds of slurping and suckling are audible to that brownnosing bitch. If not, then how long will it take for her to realize it?\n\n``Yes, I was reviewing my latest paper and I was wondering if I could discuss something with you?'' Tracy asks.\n\nMr. Mordaut chuckles. ``Ah yes, you wrote a fantastic paper! I was extremely impressed with what I saw. You really have an aptitude for the material.'' He scoffs. ``Unlike some other students that will remain unnamed.''\n\nYou narrow your gaze, wanting nothing more than to start using your teeth. Yet, you disregard this intrusive thought. Sure, it would be funny but the last thing you need is everyone in the class knowing that you're the kind of student who sucks teachers off for good grades.\n\nThat kind of reputation has a way of spreading throughout the realm. One mistake and everyone from Falador to Karamja will know what a depraved little slut you are.\n\nAnd why exactly did that excite you so much?\n\nYou hate that the threat makes you shiver and squirm under his desk, feeling the promise of being caught wash over you. The fear feels like an aphrodisiac, sinful and taboo. The hand against your crotch grinds even more firmly than before, causing you to shiver. You wish that you could do more but for now you try to content yourself with this meagre treat.\n\nYour eye remains on the prize as you ease forwards, pressing Mr. Mordaut back into your throat. The tip pokes at your airway and it takes a lot of willpower to suppress your unruly gag reflex. Your eyes water but you blink through the tears.\n\nSurely, you must have gone far enough down to get a passing grade.\n\n``Fuck,'' Mr. Mordaut groans.\n\nYour eyes widen and you pause midstride, feeling a fresh fear prickle at your psyche. You can hear him suck in a breath, obviously realizing his mistake.\n\n``Is everything okay, Mr. Mordaut?'' Tracy asks. Her tone is as much curious as it is concerned.\n\nMr. Mordaut sighs. ``Sorry, I've had joint pains for the last few days. It's getting to that time of the year and I'm an old dragon.''\n\nHis lie is seamless and unwavering. It's honestly impressive in a way.\n\nDid he do this often enough to think up excuses?\n\n``Oh no!'' Tracy brownnoseingly gasps. ``If you'd like, I'm sure that I could brew a potion that might help with that.''\n\n``That won't be necessary,'' Mr. Mordaut quickly replies, clearing his throat. ``So, what about the essay did you wish to discuss?''\n\n``Well, I was wondering why you found my arguments about the nature of...'' Tracy begins.\n\nYou roll your eyes and tune her out, looking down at the sheathe in front of you instead. Your eye is on the next letter grade as you slowly draw back, pulling away from his erection in an effort to resume your bobbing. \n\nMr. Mordaut audibly huffs, shuddering as you do so.\n\nHis cock is now covered in a solid shroud of sinful juices, being well-lubricated. Surely, it will only get easier from here.\n\nAs you draw in a breath through your nose, you can pick up on his raw draconic musk as it seems to grope at your brain and dig its claws into your grey matter. It plays with your thoughts, sending a fresh pulse of warm blood radiating throughout your body and crawling towards your crotch.\n\nIt is tempting to stop there but you deny your senses. Instead, you continue pulling back until only the tip of his erection remains between your lips.\n\nThe threat of being caught is tantalizing, daring, and just a little scary. Yet, you decide to have some fun with it. After all, if anyone is going to get you caught, it's going to be the dragon who is currently trying to have a conversation. Honestly, it's kind of funny hearing him mess up every once in a while.\n\nYou bob forwards, diving down his girth in a series of deep strides. Each motion is energetic and vigorous, managing to delve down a generous portion of his erection. Every time you bottom out, you're easily able to bring yourself to your prior depth. \n\nYou are bathing him in your warmth, coating him in your saliva, and cradling him with your plush lips.\n\nMr. Mordaut puts on a strong show but even he has his limits. He grunts and groans, letting out little notes that he tries his best to play off as merely a seasonal pain in his scales. It's honestly pretty adorable to hear him try and make excuses. Yet, even you know that these are starting to sound especially flimsy as you can see him gripping the desk and sinking his claws into the wood.\n\nWas the big bad dragon really being tamed by a mortal?\n\nYou pause to draw in a couple silent bursts of air, smirking as you do so. It's adorable to feel him quaking between your lips, his abundant juices dripping from his cock. Plenty of them give way to gravity, dripping onto your attire. Though you hardly care. You can always get a change of clothing after you finish.\n\n``I must apologize, dear,'' Mr. Mordaut abruptly cuts in, grunting loudly as you bob forwards once again. ``But this seasonal pain is making it rather hard to have a discussion about your project. Could we possibly take a raincheck this conversation and discuss it after class tomorrow? I should be in better shape by then.''\n\n``Of course, Mr. M,'' Tracy says, sounding genuinely concerned. ``And are you sure you wouldn't like me to try and brew you a remedy?''\n\n``Very,'' Mr. Mordaut states.\n\nOh sure, Tracy can call him Mr. M but when you do it...\n\nTracy lingers for a couple more seconds before the sound of her footsteps draw away. It isn't long before she walks out of the room and closes the door behind herself\n\nMr. Mordaut is silent for a long moment before letting out an especially frustrated sigh. ``You absolute brat! Was that really necessary?'' You draw back to reply but are met by a firm claw upon the very back of your head, holding you in place. ``Not a word, dear. You've made your point crystal clear.''\n\nHe applies a little pressure and you find yourself being forced forwards, deeper and deeper onto his cock. His pressure doesn't stop until you are back at the `D' line with him tickling the back of your throat.\n\nYour jaw aches and eyes water but his talons remain there, holding you in place. \n\n``I was going to be nice but now I'm not so sure,'' Mr. Mordaut says, tutting and really delving into that judgemental teacher voice you are so woefully familiar with. ``I thought a student such as yourself would be thankful for this opportunity.'' He taps a single claw against the back of your head, rhythmically making his presence known. ``Maybe we should start to think about detention for you?''\n\nYou shuffle in your seat, tugging back against his vicelike grip. Yet, your strength stat is nowhere near enough to overcome a full-grown drake. He instead counteracts your attempts by assisting with your lesson, easing you forwards under his own initiative.\n\nHe pushes you beyond your prior depth and the gagging starts anew. It's an ugly noise, guttural and desperate. You attempt to fight him but he ensures that you remain firmly in place. \n\nA faint groan escapes him, sounding deep and dripping with his intent. He rocks his hips, grinding himself against your lips as he pumps between them.\n\n``I think a month of detention feels like a fitting punishment for a rowdy student such as yourself,'' Mr. Mordaut says, sighing fondly as your gag reflex jostles his pride. ``Though you are probably wondering what detention even entails for the likes of you.''\n\nYou very much did not but you're in no position to rebut him.\n\nHe draws you towards the `C' line, holding you there as you gag even more violently than before. Your vision is blurry and it's only by some miracle that you haven't made a mess of everything just yet.\n\n``Detention would involve you chained to my desk,'' Mr. Mordaut growls, huffing. ``As naked as the day you were born. You'd only be let off your extremely short leash when I require some...'' He scoffs, letting out a barking note of especially coarse laughter. ``Well, when I require you in a capacity such as this.''\n\nThat has no right sounding as hot as it did, making you quiver at the mere concept. Your eyes widen as the fantasy fills your mind. You can picture it now, lingering at his side and dotting upon his every need.\n\nMaybe even with an audience watching...\n\nMr. Mordaut forces you forwards still, knocking you out of the fantasy as your gagging renews in its intensity. He doesn't stop until you're retching, making all sorts of gross noises in some feeble effort to expel him. Once at this point, he then holds you in place for a few long seconds as he reaches down with a blue piece of chalk, drawing a circle around the place where your lips meet his erection.\n\nFinally, he lets go of your head and you immediately rocket back. You rasp and gasp for air, hacking and coughing through the solid layer of sinful grime which seems to coat your lips. Heavy strands of fluids now hang from his erection and they briefly unify the two of you together in a deeply sinful web of filthy cords. \n\nThese cords soon sever as Mr. Mordaut inches back, allowing the room's light to wash over you once again. You can see his cock hanging there, still as heavy and hard as it had been when you began this little game. Only there is now a blue circle around his shaft.\n\nB...\n\nYou're just shy of the B-mark, so woefully close to the start of that knot.\n\nYou blink in disbelief. There is no way that you got that close to a B. It feels like an insult, only getting a C after all of the gagging and the tears and the soreness which seems to dominate your throat. Not even the pop-up notification telling you that you just completed a medium achievement diary task helps to soften the blow.\n\n``That was a very good performance,'' Mr. Mordaut says, chuckling to himself. ``It's always nice to see a student putting in the hard work to try and improve their grade.'' He reaches forth and boops your nose. ``And a C will not reflect too poorly upon your final grade.''\n\n``Surely, that's worth at least a B?'' you try.\n\nMr. Mordaut shakes his head. ``Not quite, I'm afraid.'' \n\nYou glance at the incriminating blue line. It's so woefully close to being a B, teasing you with the merest sliver of an inch.\n\n``Is...'' You swallow the lump in your throat, trying to ply him with an especially pitiful pair of puppy dog eyes. ``Is there a way to get extra credit, Sir?''\n\nMr. Mordaut hums, making a show of pondering your request. In the end, he sighs. ``I suppose if you help me finish, I can find it in my heart to change your letter grade from a C to a B. Though that's only because I know that you'll be such a good student going forward.''\n\nYou nod, surrendering your consent.\n\nHe inches forwards and forces you back under his desk, trapping you in that hotbox of lustful smells. ``Glad to hear it.''\n\nYou don't even hesitate this time as you lean forwards and take him back between your lips. It isn't long before you're bobbing along him once again. His flesh tastes crude with all of those sinful juices dripping from it. Yet, you revel in the sinfulness of it. You use this slickness to propel yourself even farther than before.\n\nSure, you don't push towards your prior depth but you make sure to take good care of the portion that you're comfortable with, slurping lewdly and swirling your tongue around it when able. It seems that your efforts are appreciated as you hear the dragon groan, moaning coarsely with a deep rumble of sinful satisfaction.\n\nThe crude slurps punctuate the very air, sounding raw and guttural. You can taste nothing but depravity upon his drakehood, savouring the tactile proof of your hard work.\n\nIt's nearly enough to make you forget about your own needs. Yet, they are quick to come back to the surface, that familiar warmth taking hold within your core and seeming to radiate throughout your body. It isn't long before you feel hot, desperate to sate your growing desires.\n\nYou briefly draw away, puffing for breath as you do so. ``Sir...''\n\nMr. Mordaut makes a surprised little noise as he looks down at you. ``Something that matter, dear?''\n\nAny worry is quick to fade as he seems to pick up on your desperation easily enough. Instead, he offers a catty little smile, grinning wide. ``Oh, you seem desperate.'' He reaches down with a set of claws and cups your chin, tilting you face up and forcing you to look him in the eye. ``Are you, dear?''\n\nYou can't help but nod. Words no longer feel like something you can reliably form in your current state of mind.\n\n``Now it would hardly be a lesson if I gave you exactly what you wanted,'' he murmurs more to himself than you, looking you over as he speaks. Yet, in the end, it seems that kindness prevails as he sighs and gives his head a tired shake. ``Very well, I suppose you do deserve a little bit of a reward for being so attentive.''\n\nHe draws away from his desk and instead lays down upon his side, keeping himself exposed to you.\n\nYou take the hint easily enough as you scramble out from under your desk, clambering over to him. As you approach, you lay down as well, keeping your head close to his mammoth pride while ensuring that your hindquarters are within range of his claws, so close to his muzzle.\n\nHe doesn't move right away. So, you once more take care of his shaft, popping it into your mouth and slurping with all of the energy of before. You start to stroke him as well, using both hands in order to pump away at his slick flesh. The combined assault is nearly enough to take care of his entire pride. Yet, you still fall short of this truly herculean feat.\n\nAs you work, Mr. Mordaut carefully hooks a finger under the waistline of your pants, tugging them down and exposing your hindquarters. Instead of going for your junk immediately, he instead pops a finger into his mouth, slathering it in saliva. Once it is practically dripping, he then rests the tip of this talon against your hole.\n\nYou can't help but moan as he starts to push inside of you, easing his way forwards bit by bit. You shiver as you're filled, gasping and groaning against his erection as he slowly works this digit inside.\n\n``You're so drippy, dear,'' Mr. Mordaut comments.\n\nYou flush as you can feel the sheer wetness of your lust, dripping and draining down your inner thighs. It's heavier than usual, coating your skin in a sticky sheen. \n\nAll in all, it seems to amuse Mr. Mordaut who continues to finger you. Again and again, he presses that talon inside and you soon feel a familiar heat in your core. Your moans are unrestrained as you bathe his cock in your desperate exhales.\n\nHis erection is slick at this point and you move along it easily enough, bobbing and stroking away. You savour the taste of a dragon nearing the brink, picking up on all of those sinful little essences and forbidden tastes.\n\nYou briefly draw away, panting for breath. ``Mr. Mordaut?''\n\nHe pauses, stalling with his fingering but still keeping that talon deep inside. ``Yes, dear?''\n\n``Can I ask you a herblore question?'' You ask, gasping as he hooks his talon upwards.\n\nMr. Mordaut smirks. ``No, I'm afraid that dragon cum cannot be used as an ingredient in potion-making.''\n\n``How did you...'' You shake your head. ``How did you know that I was going to ask that?''\n\n``Because this isn't my first time doing this, dear. You have a dragon's erection in your hands and I'm about to finish,'' Mr. Mordaut says, winking at you. ``It isn't very hard to read your intentions.'' He then leans forwards and touches his lips to the top of your head. It's the closest that a dragon can come to kissing someone, being oddly tender. ``Now be a good student and finish with your homework.''\n\nHe doesn't need to ask twice as you once more take him into your mouth, bobbing along. You have your eye on the prize as you move so swiftly with not a care in the world. Hell, you even manage to get to your prior depth, pushing him into your throat. Though you quickly draw back as a fresh gag ruptures forth.\n\nMr. Mordaut is now moaning fiercely, letting out a deep and guttural noise that can almost be mistaken for a growl. His body begins to shiver and quake and you can feel the digit inside of you tremble ever so slightly.\n\nIt seems that you are nearing that final stretch, moving towards the very precipice of euphoria. You can feel your own pleasure building in tandem, forming in your gut and radiating outwards. It seems like you're both on a crash course for the brink, heading towards it at a breakneck pace.\n\n``Close,'' Mr. Mordaut huffs.\n\nHe starts to rock his hips, gently grinding against your lips. For a moment it seems that he might offer his assistance to you once again, reaching for the back of your head. Yet, he seems to constrain himself and allows you to take the lead instead.\n\nYou do your best to please him, slurping and licking and lapping and stroking at his flesh with a desperation that you didn't know you possessed. Your actions are more than a little frenzied but bit-by-bit they are pushing him along. \n\nAt this point his pre is a constant river, flooding your mouth and throat with his sticky essence. Your fingers are drenched in the stuff, propelling both hands onwards in a mad sprint towards the finish line. \n\nIf this is how much he leaks, you can only imagine how potent his final release is going to be.\n\nBefore you can find out, Mr. Mordaut abruptly rips his hips free and pulls away from you completely. The sudden absence of both his cock and talon are jarring, leaving you feeling strangely downcast.\n\nYou are about to ask if you did something wrong. Though you notice that he is now swiftly stroking himself, huffing and puffing as he does so.\n\nOh...\n\nOh, here it comes.\n\nFinally, he thrusts his hips towards you. And you watch a solid strand of his virile spunk pulses outwards. It seems like time itself slows to a crawl as you watch this strand of white careen towards you with frightening speed, thick and heavy upon the air.\n\nYou briefly remember the quest helper's advice as you panic and put on a protect from magic prayer, hoping that it will save you from any damage.\n\nAnd then the stream hits, colliding with your face like water from a hose. It draws a line along your complexion, starting from your left eye and then going on a diagonal down to your right collarbone. It is sticky and heavy, dripping from your being. His cum is hot, really hot, hotter than any of your other partners has ever been.\n\nThankfully, it seems that your choice of protection prayer is correct as you see a blue zero rise above you.\n\nThough one strand is not enough to empty a dragon as he pumps forwards, continuing to stroke himself all the while. A second, third, and even a fourth spurt of his virility all gush forth, one after another. Though each is just a little weaker than the last. Regardless, all of them land upon your person, staining your tunic and pants, your skin and hair. By the time he is finally done, you are only able to keep one eye open, feeling like your entire face is caked in his filth and depravity.\n\nMr. Mordaut thuds back onto his side. ``I think that was a performance worthy of a B.''\n\nYou also sink onto your side, too tired to even think about what to do with the solid shroud of cum that cling to your person. Some of it even leaks into your mouth, giving you a taste of his draconic nature straight from the source. It's feral and masculine, meddling with your hormone-rich mind and reminding you so woefully that you have not been sated.\n\n``You did a fantastic job, dear,'' Mr. Mordaut states, closing his eyes and sighing rather fondly. ``I am very pleased with the effort you put into this project.''\n\nYou nod and suddenly feel the fatigue of this encounter wash over you. It is nearly enough to put you to sleep, utterly sapping your stamina. It makes you realize that you really need to get back to working on Canifis rooftops when you're done here. \n\n``How am I going to clean this up?'' you ask, looking down at yourself.\n\nMr. Mordaut chuckles. ``I'll ensure that the exit leads back to your home.''\n\nYou don't tell Mr. Mordaut that said home is a single workshop and a dining room with a hundred unassembled tables boxed up inside of it.\n\n``You know...'' Mr. Mordaut states.\n\nYou rub the cum out of your one eye and manage to peel it open. As you focus on him, you see the coyness that is now so prevalent in his sinful little smile. He is tapping a single talon against your hip, touching your soft skin.\n\n``I know?'' you ask.\n\n``If you ever wish to boost your grades in the future, I am open to other private tutoring sessions,'' Mr. Mordaut says, carefully moving his talon around your body and holding it against your pelvis. It's so woefully close to your junk. ``Maybe I can utilize one of your other holes next time?''\n\nYou can't help but remember the heat of his cum, wondering if it's even safe to get inside of you. And that isn't even accounting for the raw gulf in size that exists between you and his impressive erection.\n\n``Is that even safe?'' you ask, airing your hesitation.\n\nMr. Mordaut nods and snaps his claws together, materializing a box from the aether and catching it. It's large but made of cardboard with a familiar-looking Duke printed upon the front, offering a pair of thumbs up as he winks at you.\n\nDuke Horacio's Anti-Dragon Condoms XL-Size\n\nThe only brand of condoms that can hold up against your poor impulse control\n\n``Huh...'' you whisper.\n\nMr. Mordaut nods. ``They honestly think of everything these days.'' He then looks at you, smirking. ``So, how about it, dear? Does that offer interest you?''\n\nYou look at the box and then up at him, unable to stop yourself from grinning. ``I mean... I could always use some more tutoring.''\n\n", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "You have never been particularly good when it comes to school, always being distracted by what you wanted to do after class, dreaming of adventures and playing games. Today is no different than the rest with your mind wandering to the fantasy of what you intend to do once the bell has rung.

Can anyone honestly fault you for that? The room is too warm, the clock too slow, and your teacher is talking far too lethargically to actually bother paying attention to. It's the perfect environment to take a nap but you know that you couldn't get away with something like that.

The teacher might've been an old dragon but age has hardly tapered his senses. His gaze is predatory and cunning as he looks out upon the assembled students as if waiting for someone to step out of line so he can scold them.

This is the famous Mr. Mordaut, known throughout all the realms for being a favourite guest of many adventurers such as yourself. If that's the case then clearly you just need to have some more appreciation for the fact that he has decided to take you on as an actual long-term student of his.

Yet, it's hard to appreciate that when you're sitting there, barely managing to stay awake as he drones on about a subject that you have little interest in. Who in their right mind thought that an hour-long lecture about herbology is an appropriate topic to waste your time with?

Still, Mr. Mordaut is at least a striking figure, managing to look interesting even if his lecture is on the verge of reducing you to tears.

He is a mighty red dragon, lumbering and huge, easily the size of several adventurers like yourself. His scales are well-manicured and clean, glistening in the light like freshly chiseled rubies. And perched upon his nose are a pair of reading glasses which do nothing to soften those cold eyes which briefly fall upon you.

You can't help but sit up a little straighter as he looks directly at you, going rigid and proper. It's like his gaze has an almost hypnotic quality to it, getting those in the room to behave, merely by focusing on them for a few fleeting moments.

``Can anyone in the class tell me what ingredients go into a vial of blamish oil?'' Mr. Mordaut asks.

This is where you realize that you have completely missed the prior lesson. Though that's okay because he is not calling you out to...

Oh... oh no...

``Do you know the answer, dear?'' he asks, looking directly at you. The smile he bears tells you that he knows exactly what he's doing.

Blamish oil, blamish oil... what is that even used for?

``Uh...'' You swallow a lump in your throat. ``Tarromin and something?''

Mr. Mordaut narrows his gaze and loudly huffs, causing his two mighty nostrils to flare with a practiced disdain.

Another hand goes up and he instead looks towards it, saving you from that judgmental glare. It would've been appreciated if it was literally anyone else except for the woman sitting next to you.

``What is blamish snail slime and harralander, Mr. Mordaut,'' Tracy answers.

Mr. Morduat nods and offers her a warmer smile, briefly showing off those sharp draconian teeth hidden away behind his lips. ``Very good, Tracy.''

Fuck you, Tracy.

It looks like Mr. Mordaut is about to continue with his lecture but mercifully the clock upon the wall ticks over and a bell starts to chime, ringing loudly throughout the room. A few heroes are awoken, blinking and looking around in utter confusion.

``I suppose that is all the time that we have today,'' Mr. Mordaut states before clearing his throat. ``I would suggest that you all read chapter three of advanced questing and finish your tick manipulation homework for tomorrow.''

One by one the other students start to pull out runic scrolls, using them to poof into the aether.

You are about to grab one yourself when Mr. Mordaut clears his throat, drawing your attention towards him instead. ``I was wondering if I might actually be able to talk to you after class, dear?''

Shit... what is this about?

You let the scroll slip back into your bag as you instead get up, making your way over to his desk. It seems that literally everyone else, including that bitch Tracy, has already teleported out of the room. This means that it's just you and Mr. Mordaut now.

``Is everything okay, Mr. M?'' you ask.

``Please...'' Mr. Mordaut looks down at you. Even if he isn't trying too, you can't help but feel like he's glaring right into your soul. ``You can call me Mr. Mordaut.''

``R-right,'' you stammer. ``Something the matter, Mr. Mordaut?''

Mr. Mordaut's lips turn upwards, ever so slightly. Yet, it seems more like the dragon is playing with his food rather than addressing one of his students. There is a glimmer in his eye, a note of coy understanding.

``I was grading papers yesterday,'' he states, snapping two talons together and causing one such paper to pop into existence and land heavy upon his desk. You recognize it as your own and can't help but notice that there is a big red `F' printed upon the front of it. ``And I couldn't help but notice... an irregularity with it.''

Your eyes widen. ``Pardon?''

``I've graded many papers in my long life, dear,'' Mr. Morduat says, taping a talon against the cover. ``And I've learned to detect plagiarism whenever it's presented to me.''

You swallow a lump in your throat. ``Oh?''

``Now, I want the truth from you,'' he continues, meeting your eye as he glowers at you over the rim of his glasses. Though this eye contact lasts for only a second as your own gaze flinches away in shame. ``I've been informed that a good number of my students are using this new... magic to generate answers for my essays. Are you familiar with a spell known as Runelite?''

A creeping guilt starts to grip at your psyche, making itself known.

Fuck!

You sigh. ``Yeah.''

``And you are aware that plagiarism will not be tolerated in my class. Is that correct?'' Mr. Mordaut then asks.

You can only nod.

``Now I am not entirely heartless,'' Mr. Mordaut goes on. You feel a little hope and look up, seeing his catty little smile. ``And I'd be willing to arrange an alternative assignment in order to make up for the deficit that a zero would leave upon your final grade.''

You can't help but smile. ``Really?''

Mr. Mordaut nods and you can't help but feel a little relief. The dragon might be intimidating but he doesn't seem like a liar.

``I'll do whatever,'' you quickly say, unable to really hide your relief as you grin at him. You might dislike school but you are at least aware of the fact that passing is important to your future adventures. ``Any homework, any tests, any assignments that you can think of. I'll even write another...''

Mr. Mordaut suddenly stands up, cutting you off. You can't help but notice that he is exposing himself to you. His sheathe is out in the open with the tip of something fleshy poking through. It's a lighter hue of red compared to his scales, though still a deep crimson in colour.

A fierce blush overcomes you and you force your gaze away from it, looking him in the eye instead. ``And what exactly do you...''

He merely lifts a brow.

No... no way.

``I have some more papers that need grading and I require some assistance in blowing off a little steam while doing so,'' Mr. Mordaut tells you, smirking. ``You'll be graded on your performance.''

You just stand there like a deer in the headlights. The words make sense but the reality of the situation refuses to really dawn on you.

``You don't want to fail, now do you?'' Mr. Mordaut states, cocking a brow.

You shake your head.

``Then get over here,'' he instructs, settling back down upon the floor. His claw arcs through the air, gesturing you closer. Those eyes remain upon you, filled with a playfulness that you are not familiar with. ``I don't appreciate having my time wasted and I think you'd agree that your essay was a tremendous waste of my time already.''

You stand there, hesitantly, unsure of what to really do. This class is important to your future, you know as much. Yet, can you really debase yourself merely for a good grade?

Mr. Mordaut turns his attention towards his papers, grabbing the first of them and slowly scanning it. ``Tick tock, dear. This offer won't last forever.''

This finally snaps you out of your stupor as you kick into gear, quickly moving around his desk. You can't help but consider discarding your ranger gear as you reach for the waistline of your green tunic.

``Please keep your clothes on,'' Mr. Mordaut says, stopping that idea dead in its tracks. ``The last thing I need is you leaving some evidence behind by accident. That might bring about some... difficult questions.''

There is just enough space between himself and his desk that you manage to slip in underneath. Thankfully, the table is dragon-sized, meaning that it isn't overly cramped underneath.

Though it is still tight enough that your world becomes utterly dominated by him in this new setting. You can feel the universal warmth of his body, constantly radiating outwards and warming the very air around you. You can see nothing but his scales and that fleshy growth poking through from within his sheathe. Both are darkened as very little light actually reaches you from down here. Both of these sensations pale in comparison to the raw taste and smell of this encounter. The spicy essence of a dragon's musk hangs so heavy upon the air. It honestly makes it rather hard to think straight.

Something chirps within the back of your mind. It's a Runelite notification, telling you that you've started a new quest.

Teacher's Pet

Recommended Equipment:

Stamina Potion

Protection Prayers

Objective:

Survive

That probably doesn't bode well.

You just sit there, for a long moment, gawking at this strange anatomy. It's so hard to focus, so difficult to pull your mind through the fog of heavy smells and tantalizing tastes which fill the air around you. You're utterly frozen, petrified, unsure of what to really do.

``Do you need some advice, dear?'' Mr. Mordaut asks.

You glance up but are unable to see his face as it's obscured by the desk which lingers above you. Though you can only imagine that he's grinning at your current predicament.

``Yes please,'' you whisper.

Mr. Mordaut hums. ``Start by peppering my sheathe with little kisses while ever so often doing the same with the little bit of my penis that's exposed.'' He holds onto that teacher's tone, neutral and unwavering. His technical language makes it feel like he's explaining how to craft runes and not how to fellate him. ``That should help you along with this lesson.''

You decide to take his advice as you lean closer, carefully kissing the side of his sheathe. His scales are so warm against your lips and both the taste and smell grow in their intensity. It's a downright alluring combination to contend with, starting you on the path to being properly cock drunk.

``Very good,'' Mr. Mordaut murmurs, betraying the smallest hint of pleasure with a tiny moan escaping him. ``I knew you were the student for this job.''

You circle around his sheathe, kissing it again and again, not stopping until you've done an entire circle around it. Only then do you dip forwards and kiss the tip of his erection, pressing your lips firmly against it. The skin is smooth and slick with a salty tasting fluid. It seems sensitive too as you can hear a small moan escape him.

Your mind is further clouded by the hormones which are brewing within your system, your gaze growing foggy along with your thoughts. There is a new heat within your core and it starts to spread throughout your body. You can feel it so heavy within the crotch of your gear, causing a certain organ to warm and become excited in response.

One of your hands starts to travel downwards, as if it has a mind of its own, tracing the contours of your tunic. You wish that he would've allowed you to remove it but unfortunately you have to work with the limitation, pawing at yourself through the fabric instead.

Mr. Mordaut seems to respond favourably to the treatment. Slowly, but surely, each kiss and suckle seems to make his cock edge forth a little more, growing longer and fatter before you. You focus on the parts that's most recently exposed, bathing it in the relentless attention of your tongue and lips.

``I must compliment you on your hard work,'' Mr. Mordaut states, scoffing. ``It's only a shame that it took until now to bring it about.'' He tuts. ``It's okay, I am a very patient drake and am more than willing to tutor you accordingly.''

Finally, his cock becomes fully exposed, hanging in the middle of the air. Its presence is intimidating and large, pushing you back against the desk. There is no room to squirm or get away with your only option of retreat being to please him and be granted freedom.

His anatomy is larger than any you have seen before, thicker and bulkier in its reddened stature. It only makes sense considering his size and draconic heritage. There is no way that a mere mortal such as yourself could ever hope to handle this entire thing.

All in all, it's about a foot in length, maybe a little more or a little less, being a smidge larger than the size of your own forearm. It has a speared tip which descends into a sleek length with various ridges upon it. All of which end in a mighty knot that looks downright intimidating to handle, like it can split you in two if used inappropriately. The entire thing is smooth, not scaly, slick with fluids and just twitching in anticipation.

It is probably for the best that you please him.

Mr. Mordaut let out a heavy sigh, stretching. As he does so, his cock jostles and a bead of something pearly and white snaps forth from the very tip and falls upon your tunic.

You trail a line of kisses up along his shaft, moving towards this sweet spot. You can taste him as his slick essence is so heavy, groaning as his salty flavours seem to become your world. Once at the tip, you wrap your lips around it, suckling firmly. Your tongue moves nimbly around his flesh in order to collect his sinful taste right from the source.

Only, Mr. Mordaut draws away soon after, easing back.

Through the haze of sex, you whine, looking up at him and wondering what you could've possibly done wrong. Yet, he doesn't seem miffed. Instead, he looks at you with a coy little smile upon his razor-sharp teeth.

He is planning something, that much is obvious. Yet, you can't imagine what it is.

``It wouldn't be a makeup test if there wasn't an actual grade at stake,'' Mr. Mordaut declares.

He snaps his fingers together and suddenly a series of black outlines appear upon his cock, starting about midway down his erection and heading lower still. Each is separated by about an inch or so. Next to all of them is a different letter grade, starting from a D and going all the way up to an A+. This final grade will require you to go all the way down to the very base of his sheathe in order to achieve it.

A part of you remembers some cryptic dialog about getting an A+ on a difficult test in order to finish an elite achievement diary.

Yet, you focus on the present as you swallow a lump in your throat, seeing how daunting this test really is. There is some betrayal in your eye, you know as much. Wasn't the act alone enough to guarantee you a good mark in his class?

He seems amused by your look. ``Let's see how well you've been studying, dear.'' He eases forwards again, pressing you back under his desk and hiding you away from the outside world. ``Don't stop no matter what. Do you understand me?''

You nod. ``Yes, Sir.''

``Sir?'' Mr. Mordaut asks, chuckling. ``My oh my... is someone suddenly feeling obedient? That would've helped you prior to your doctored paper.''

You flush as you lament this little slip of your tongue, burning as you realize that maybe, just maybe, you're enjoying this. Honestly, who knew that school could be this fun. If every lecture is like this then maybe you wouldn't need to use Runelite to... assist with your classwork.

Your hand is now pressing down fully upon the crotch of your attire, grinding against your loins. The pawing feels nice though you wish for something more, something deeper than that. Maybe if you got a good grade then Mr. Mordaut might be willing to help you out.

You turn your attention fully towards your classwork, focusing on the impressive erection in front of you. You ease forwards and take the speared tip between your lips. Just this one little motion alone is enough to strain your jaw. Yet, you power through the discomfort and focus fully on the task at hand, lewdly suckling upon your teacher.

Back and forth, you start to bob, gliding across the first inch or so of this dragons' anatomy. These first motions are halting and far away from even earning a `D'. Yet, it's a start. It gives you time to get used to the size and shape, the raw warmth and taste of it. You swirl your tongue around and close your eyes, losing yourself to each downwards motion.

Mr. Mordaut isn't a very vocal lover. Still, there are still distinct tells that bleed through. The dragon makes all sorts of noises: moans which rumble forth like instinctive growls, hushed gasps that seem out of character, and of course the constant sound of his shivering body as he twitches against your tongue.

It's hard work but you feel him venturing a little deeper with every single motion. It isn't long before your tongue is forced against the bottom of your mouth, your palate now fully occupied by his girthy erection. Still, you continue ahead regardless, slurping and sputtering lewdly upon him.

As you crack open an eye, you see that you're at least approaching the `D' line, inching sluggishly towards it. Honestly, considering how much of his mass already fills your mouth, even this slimmest of passing grades still feels like it's an Olympic feat.

Yet, you feel obliged to go on still, pushing yourself harder than before. Already you can feel that speared tip tickling the back of your throat. It prods against your airway, causing you to halt and let out a few sputtering gagging notes in response.

Mr. Mordaut sighs, sounding so disappointed. ``Surely you can do better than that, dear. Please remember that this paper was worth forty percent of your final grade.''

You ball your hands into fists and try easing forwards once again. Now that you're ready for it, you manage to press him against the back of your mouth, slowing down to a crawl as you continue to force yourself forwards. When brute force doesn't work, you inch back and resume bobbing instead, trying to make his shaft as slick as possible.

It feels like a failure but you have a feeling that getting sick will not score you especially high marks.

``Oh bother,'' Mr. Mordaut sighs.

You wonder what he's distracted by until you hear the classroom door open as hurried footsteps move towards the front of the class.

``Ah Tracy,'' Mr. Mordaut greets, managing to keep his voice level. ``Was there something that I can help you with?''

That bitch...

You think about stopping but Mr. Mordaut's words ring through your mind. He told you not to stop, no matter what, and you have no intention of going against his word. Hell... it might even be a little much-needed payback for putting you in this position in the first place.

So, you continue along, bobbing back and forth with all of your prior ferocity. You briefly wonder if the crude sounds of slurping and suckling are audible to that brownnosing bitch. If not, then how long will it take for her to realize it?

``Yes, I was reviewing my latest paper and I was wondering if I could discuss something with you?'' Tracy asks.

Mr. Mordaut chuckles. ``Ah yes, you wrote a fantastic paper! I was extremely impressed with what I saw. You really have an aptitude for the material.'' He scoffs. ``Unlike some other students that will remain unnamed.''

You narrow your gaze, wanting nothing more than to start using your teeth. Yet, you disregard this intrusive thought. Sure, it would be funny but the last thing you need is everyone in the class knowing that you're the kind of student who sucks teachers off for good grades.

That kind of reputation has a way of spreading throughout the realm. One mistake and everyone from Falador to Karamja will know what a depraved little slut you are.

And why exactly did that excite you so much?

You hate that the threat makes you shiver and squirm under his desk, feeling the promise of being caught wash over you. The fear feels like an aphrodisiac, sinful and taboo. The hand against your crotch grinds even more firmly than before, causing you to shiver. You wish that you could do more but for now you try to content yourself with this meagre treat.

Your eye remains on the prize as you ease forwards, pressing Mr. Mordaut back into your throat. The tip pokes at your airway and it takes a lot of willpower to suppress your unruly gag reflex. Your eyes water but you blink through the tears.

Surely, you must have gone far enough down to get a passing grade.

``Fuck,'' Mr. Mordaut groans.

Your eyes widen and you pause midstride, feeling a fresh fear prickle at your psyche. You can hear him suck in a breath, obviously realizing his mistake.

``Is everything okay, Mr. Mordaut?'' Tracy asks. Her tone is as much curious as it is concerned.

Mr. Mordaut sighs. ``Sorry, I've had joint pains for the last few days. It's getting to that time of the year and I'm an old dragon.''

His lie is seamless and unwavering. It's honestly impressive in a way.

Did he do this often enough to think up excuses?

``Oh no!'' Tracy brownnoseingly gasps. ``If you'd like, I'm sure that I could brew a potion that might help with that.''

``That won't be necessary,'' Mr. Mordaut quickly replies, clearing his throat. ``So, what about the essay did you wish to discuss?''

``Well, I was wondering why you found my arguments about the nature of...'' Tracy begins.

You roll your eyes and tune her out, looking down at the sheathe in front of you instead. Your eye is on the next letter grade as you slowly draw back, pulling away from his erection in an effort to resume your bobbing.

Mr. Mordaut audibly huffs, shuddering as you do so.

His cock is now covered in a solid shroud of sinful juices, being well-lubricated. Surely, it will only get easier from here.

As you draw in a breath through your nose, you can pick up on his raw draconic musk as it seems to grope at your brain and dig its claws into your grey matter. It plays with your thoughts, sending a fresh pulse of warm blood radiating throughout your body and crawling towards your crotch.

It is tempting to stop there but you deny your senses. Instead, you continue pulling back until only the tip of his erection remains between your lips.

The threat of being caught is tantalizing, daring, and just a little scary. Yet, you decide to have some fun with it. After all, if anyone is going to get you caught, it's going to be the dragon who is currently trying to have a conversation. Honestly, it's kind of funny hearing him mess up every once in a while.

You bob forwards, diving down his girth in a series of deep strides. Each motion is energetic and vigorous, managing to delve down a generous portion of his erection. Every time you bottom out, you're easily able to bring yourself to your prior depth.

You are bathing him in your warmth, coating him in your saliva, and cradling him with your plush lips.

Mr. Mordaut puts on a strong show but even he has his limits. He grunts and groans, letting out little notes that he tries his best to play off as merely a seasonal pain in his scales. It's honestly pretty adorable to hear him try and make excuses. Yet, even you know that these are starting to sound especially flimsy as you can see him gripping the desk and sinking his claws into the wood.

Was the big bad dragon really being tamed by a mortal?

You pause to draw in a couple silent bursts of air, smirking as you do so. It's adorable to feel him quaking between your lips, his abundant juices dripping from his cock. Plenty of them give way to gravity, dripping onto your attire. Though you hardly care. You can always get a change of clothing after you finish.

``I must apologize, dear,'' Mr. Mordaut abruptly cuts in, grunting loudly as you bob forwards once again. ``But this seasonal pain is making it rather hard to have a discussion about your project. Could we possibly take a raincheck this conversation and discuss it after class tomorrow? I should be in better shape by then.''

``Of course, Mr. M,'' Tracy says, sounding genuinely concerned. ``And are you sure you wouldn't like me to try and brew you a remedy?''

``Very,'' Mr. Mordaut states.

Oh sure, Tracy can call him Mr. M but when you do it...

Tracy lingers for a couple more seconds before the sound of her footsteps draw away. It isn't long before she walks out of the room and closes the door behind herself

Mr. Mordaut is silent for a long moment before letting out an especially frustrated sigh. ``You absolute brat! Was that really necessary?'' You draw back to reply but are met by a firm claw upon the very back of your head, holding you in place. ``Not a word, dear. You've made your point crystal clear.''

He applies a little pressure and you find yourself being forced forwards, deeper and deeper onto his cock. His pressure doesn't stop until you are back at the `D' line with him tickling the back of your throat.

Your jaw aches and eyes water but his talons remain there, holding you in place.

``I was going to be nice but now I'm not so sure,'' Mr. Mordaut says, tutting and really delving into that judgemental teacher voice you are so woefully familiar with. ``I thought a student such as yourself would be thankful for this opportunity.'' He taps a single claw against the back of your head, rhythmically making his presence known. ``Maybe we should start to think about detention for you?''

You shuffle in your seat, tugging back against his vicelike grip. Yet, your strength stat is nowhere near enough to overcome a full-grown drake. He instead counteracts your attempts by assisting with your lesson, easing you forwards under his own initiative.

He pushes you beyond your prior depth and the gagging starts anew. It's an ugly noise, guttural and desperate. You attempt to fight him but he ensures that you remain firmly in place.

A faint groan escapes him, sounding deep and dripping with his intent. He rocks his hips, grinding himself against your lips as he pumps between them.

``I think a month of detention feels like a fitting punishment for a rowdy student such as yourself,'' Mr. Mordaut says, sighing fondly as your gag reflex jostles his pride. ``Though you are probably wondering what detention even entails for the likes of you.''

You very much did not but you're in no position to rebut him.

He draws you towards the `C' line, holding you there as you gag even more violently than before. Your vision is blurry and it's only by some miracle that you haven't made a mess of everything just yet.

``Detention would involve you chained to my desk,'' Mr. Mordaut growls, huffing. ``As naked as the day you were born. You'd only be let off your extremely short leash when I require some...'' He scoffs, letting out a barking note of especially coarse laughter. ``Well, when I require you in a capacity such as this.''

That has no right sounding as hot as it did, making you quiver at the mere concept. Your eyes widen as the fantasy fills your mind. You can picture it now, lingering at his side and dotting upon his every need.

Maybe even with an audience watching...

Mr. Mordaut forces you forwards still, knocking you out of the fantasy as your gagging renews in its intensity. He doesn't stop until you're retching, making all sorts of gross noises in some feeble effort to expel him. Once at this point, he then holds you in place for a few long seconds as he reaches down with a blue piece of chalk, drawing a circle around the place where your lips meet his erection.

Finally, he lets go of your head and you immediately rocket back. You rasp and gasp for air, hacking and coughing through the solid layer of sinful grime which seems to coat your lips. Heavy strands of fluids now hang from his erection and they briefly unify the two of you together in a deeply sinful web of filthy cords.

These cords soon sever as Mr. Mordaut inches back, allowing the room's light to wash over you once again.  You can see his cock hanging there, still as heavy and hard as it had been when you began this little game. Only there is now a blue circle around his shaft.

B...

You're just shy of the B-mark, so woefully close to the start of that knot.

You blink in disbelief. There is no way that you got that close to a B. It feels like an insult, only getting a C after all of the gagging and the tears and the soreness which seems to dominate your throat. Not even the pop-up notification telling you that you just completed a medium achievement diary task helps to soften the blow.

``That was a very good performance,'' Mr. Mordaut says, chuckling to himself. ``It's always nice to see a student putting in the hard work to try and improve their grade.'' He reaches forth and boops your nose. ``And a C will not reflect too poorly upon your final grade.''

``Surely, that's worth at least a B?'' you try.

Mr. Mordaut shakes his head. ``Not quite, I'm afraid.''

You glance at the incriminating blue line. It's so woefully close to being a B, teasing you with the merest sliver of an inch.

``Is...'' You swallow the lump in your throat, trying to ply him with an especially pitiful pair of puppy dog eyes. ``Is there a way to get extra credit, Sir?''

Mr. Mordaut hums, making a show of pondering your request. In the end, he sighs. ``I suppose if you help me finish, I can find it in my heart to change your letter grade from a C to a B. Though that's only because I know that you'll be such a good student going forward.''

You nod, surrendering your consent.

He inches forwards and forces you back under his desk, trapping you in that hotbox of lustful smells. ``Glad to hear it.''

You don't even hesitate this time as you lean forwards and take him back between your lips. It isn't long before you're bobbing along him once again. His flesh tastes crude with all of those sinful juices dripping from it. Yet, you revel in the sinfulness of it. You use this slickness to propel yourself even farther than before.

Sure, you don't push towards your prior depth but you make sure to take good care of the portion that you're comfortable with, slurping lewdly and swirling your tongue around it when able. It seems that your efforts are appreciated as you hear the dragon groan, moaning coarsely with a deep rumble of sinful satisfaction.

The crude slurps punctuate the very air, sounding raw and guttural. You can taste nothing but depravity upon his drakehood, savouring the tactile proof of your hard work.

It's nearly enough to make you forget about your own needs. Yet, they are quick to come back to the surface, that familiar warmth taking hold within your core and seeming to radiate throughout your body. It isn't long before you feel hot, desperate to sate your growing desires.

You briefly draw away, puffing for breath as you do so. ``Sir...''

Mr. Mordaut makes a surprised little noise as he looks down at you. ``Something that matter, dear?''

Any worry is quick to fade as he seems to pick up on your desperation easily enough. Instead, he offers a catty little smile, grinning wide. ``Oh, you seem desperate.'' He reaches down with a set of claws and cups your chin, tilting you face up and forcing you to look him in the eye. ``Are you, dear?''

You can't help but nod. Words no longer feel like something you can reliably form in your current state of mind.

``Now it would hardly be a lesson if I gave you exactly what you wanted,'' he murmurs more to himself than you, looking you over as he speaks. Yet, in the end, it seems that kindness prevails as he sighs and gives his head a tired shake. ``Very well, I suppose you do deserve a little bit of a reward for being so attentive.''

He draws away from his desk and instead lays down upon his side, keeping himself exposed to you.

You take the hint easily enough as you scramble out from under your desk, clambering over to him. As you approach, you lay down as well, keeping your head close to his mammoth pride while ensuring that your hindquarters are within range of his claws, so close to his muzzle.

He doesn't move right away. So, you once more take care of his shaft, popping it into your mouth and slurping with all of the energy of before. You start to stroke him as well, using both hands in order to pump away at his slick flesh. The combined assault is nearly enough to take care of his entire pride. Yet, you still fall short of this truly herculean feat.

As you work, Mr. Mordaut carefully hooks a finger under the waistline of your pants, tugging them down and exposing your hindquarters. Instead of going for your junk immediately, he instead pops a finger into his mouth, slathering it in saliva. Once it is practically dripping, he then rests the tip of this talon against your hole.

You can't help but moan as he starts to push inside of you, easing his way forwards bit by bit. You shiver as you're filled, gasping and groaning against his erection as he slowly works this digit inside.

``You're so drippy, dear,'' Mr. Mordaut comments.

You flush as you can feel the sheer wetness of your lust, dripping and draining down your inner thighs. It's heavier than usual, coating your skin in a sticky sheen.

All in all, it seems to amuse Mr. Mordaut who continues to finger you. Again and again, he presses that talon inside and you soon feel a familiar heat in your core. Your moans are unrestrained as you bathe his cock in your desperate exhales.

His erection is slick at this point and you move along it easily enough, bobbing and stroking away. You savour the taste of a dragon nearing the brink, picking up on all of those sinful little essences and forbidden tastes.

You briefly draw away, panting for breath. ``Mr. Mordaut?''

He pauses, stalling with his fingering but still keeping that talon deep inside. ``Yes, dear?''

``Can I ask you a herblore question?'' You ask, gasping as he hooks his talon upwards.

Mr. Mordaut smirks. ``No, I'm afraid that dragon cum cannot be used as an ingredient in potion-making.''

``How did you...'' You shake your head. ``How did you know that I was going to ask that?''

``Because this isn't my first time doing this, dear. You have a dragon's erection in your hands and I'm about to finish,'' Mr. Mordaut says, winking at you. ``It isn't very hard to read your intentions.'' He then leans forwards and touches his lips to the top of your head. It's the closest that a dragon can come to kissing someone, being oddly tender. ``Now be a good student and finish with your homework.''

He doesn't need to ask twice as you once more take him into your mouth, bobbing along. You have your eye on the prize as you move so swiftly with not a care in the world. Hell, you even manage to get to your prior depth, pushing him into your throat. Though you quickly draw back as a fresh gag ruptures forth.

Mr. Mordaut is now moaning fiercely, letting out a deep and guttural noise that can almost be mistaken for a growl. His body begins to shiver and quake and you can feel the digit inside of you tremble ever so slightly.

It seems that you are nearing that final stretch, moving towards the very precipice of euphoria. You can feel your own pleasure building in tandem, forming in your gut and radiating outwards. It seems like you're both on a crash course for the brink, heading towards it at a breakneck pace.

``Close,'' Mr. Mordaut huffs.

He starts to rock his hips, gently grinding against your lips. For a moment it seems that he might offer his assistance to you once again, reaching for the back of your head. Yet, he seems to constrain himself and allows you to take the lead instead.

You do your best to please him, slurping and licking and lapping and stroking at his flesh with a desperation that you didn't know you possessed. Your actions are more than a little frenzied but bit-by-bit they are pushing him along.

At this point his pre is a constant river, flooding your mouth and throat with his sticky essence. Your fingers are drenched in the stuff, propelling both hands onwards in a mad sprint towards the finish line.

If this is how much he leaks, you can only imagine how potent his final release is going to be.

Before you can find out, Mr. Mordaut abruptly rips his hips free and pulls away from you completely. The sudden absence of both his cock and talon are jarring, leaving you feeling strangely downcast.

You are about to ask if you did something wrong. Though you notice that he is now swiftly stroking himself, huffing and puffing as he does so.

Oh...

Oh, here it comes.

Finally, he thrusts his hips towards you. And you watch a solid strand of his virile spunk pulses outwards. It seems like time itself slows to a crawl as you watch this strand of white careen towards you with frightening speed, thick and heavy upon the air.

You briefly remember the quest helper's advice as you panic and put on a protect from magic prayer, hoping that it will save you from any damage.

And then the stream hits, colliding with your face like water from a hose. It draws a line along your complexion, starting from your left eye and then going on a diagonal down to your right collarbone. It is sticky and heavy, dripping from your being. His cum is hot, really hot, hotter than any of your other partners has ever been.

Thankfully, it seems that your choice of protection prayer is correct as you see a blue zero rise above you.

Though one strand is not enough to empty a dragon as he pumps forwards, continuing to stroke himself all the while. A second, third, and even a fourth spurt of his virility all gush forth, one after another. Though each is just a little weaker than the last. Regardless, all of them land upon your person, staining your tunic and pants, your skin and hair.  By the time he is finally done, you are only able to keep one eye open, feeling like your entire face is caked in his filth and depravity.

Mr. Mordaut thuds back onto his side. ``I think that was a performance worthy of a B.''

You also sink onto your side, too tired to even think about what to do with the solid shroud of cum that cling to your person. Some of it even leaks into your mouth, giving you a taste of his draconic nature straight from the source. It's feral and masculine, meddling with your hormone-rich mind and reminding you so woefully that you have not been sated.

``You did a fantastic job, dear,'' Mr. Mordaut states, closing his eyes and sighing rather fondly. ``I am very pleased with the effort you put into this project.''

You nod and suddenly feel the fatigue of this encounter wash over you. It is nearly enough to put you to sleep, utterly sapping your stamina. It makes you realize that you really need to get back to working on Canifis rooftops when you're done here.  

``How am I going to clean this up?'' you ask, looking down at yourself.

Mr. Mordaut chuckles. ``I'll ensure that the exit leads back to your home.''

You don't tell Mr. Mordaut that said home is a single workshop and a dining room with a hundred unassembled tables boxed up inside of it.

``You know...'' Mr. Mordaut states.

You rub the cum out of your one eye and manage to peel it open. As you focus on him, you see the coyness that is now so prevalent in his sinful little smile. He is tapping a single talon against your hip, touching your soft skin.

``I know?'' you ask.

``If you ever wish to boost your grades in the future, I am open to other private tutoring sessions,'' Mr. Mordaut says, carefully moving his talon around your body and holding it against your pelvis. It's so woefully close to your junk. ``Maybe I can utilize one of your other holes next time?''

You can't help but remember the heat of his cum, wondering if it's even safe to get inside of you. And that isn't even accounting for the raw gulf in size that exists between you and his impressive erection.

``Is that even safe?'' you ask, airing your hesitation.

Mr. Mordaut nods and snaps his claws together, materializing a box from the aether and catching it. It's large but made of cardboard with a familiar-looking Duke printed upon the front, offering a pair of thumbs up as he winks at you.

Duke Horacio's Anti-Dragon Condoms XL-Size

The only brand of condoms that can hold up against your poor impulse control

``Huh...'' you whisper.

Mr. Mordaut nods. ``They honestly think of everything these days.'' He then looks at you, smirking. ``So, how about it, dear? Does that offer interest you?''

You look at the box and then up at him, unable to stop yourself from grinning. ``I mean... I could always use some more tutoring.''

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