2 comments/ 12517 views/ 9 favorites The Dragon By: VixenVampiress Beep! Beep! Beep! Amara hand slammed down on the alarm clock. She gripped it hard and threw across the room. Right after the thing banged against the wall more banging came from the other side of the wall. She groaned. She was going to have to get use d to neighbors that were up close and personal. She turned her head and slowly opened her eyes. All she could see was her own copper curls. She flipped it back with a pale hand. She sat up and looked across the room. She had a large dresser with an equally large mirror perched on the top. Her pale figure looked even paler compared to the black sheets and comforter that covered her bed, not to mention the black camisole and matching black boy cut panties. Her large chest didn't quite fit into the top, a small bit of pink showing at the very top. She couldn't help but smile at herself as she pulled it up. She slowly climbed out of the bed and walked over to the wide dresser and randomly picked out the clothes for the day. Amara tossed them onto the bed and stripped off her sleeping attire. She glanced at the mirror again. Her stomach was flat, her breasts high and round, her cunt completely clean of hair, and her legs were long and lean. She didn't exactly work for the body, it was from work. She hardly ever had the time to eat because the parlor needed her most of the time. The tattoo shop, Your Mother's Worst Nightmare, was just getting off its feet and Tink needed her. She turned to look at the art on her back. Tink did a wonderful job. It was a great blue and green dragon that covered most of her back, its green eyes piercing as it seemed to fly up, the tail right above her crack. The top and bottoms she picked out was a black Lacuna Coil t-shirt (that of which had several cuts showing her cleavage and stomach) and a short black skirt. Under these she wore a black lacey bra and matching thong. She also decided to slip on a pair of black and white striped tights. Amara sat down and slipped on her black knee high combat boots. She painted her full lips black and drew a thick line of black around her glowing green eyes. She pressed a stud through the hole in her tongue so now a neon blue ball sat on her tongue. Her look was complete. She ran her fingers through her long red hair as she walked out the door. The day progressed as usual. People of all different styles, ethnicities, backgrounds and tattoo ideas came through. It was Saturday after all. She sat calmly behind the counter, every once in a while she would pull out some of the body jewelry they had, but other than that, it was dull. Tink was her best friend from high school. They were the only goths in that hellhole so they clung to each other. Tink was always the best in art and was obsessed with all things tattoo, so it would make sense that she would have her own shop. Her real name was Elisabeth, but she got the name Tink for petit size and bounciness. Finally the end of the day. Tink had a date as usual, so Amara was cursed to walk home again. It was nearly midnight and the sky was dark. A new moon. The darkness didn't bother the redhead. She loved the dark and the night. The footsteps behind her bothered her. She would look back and see nothing. As soon as she turned back, they would seem to sound closer. She heard someone take in a deep breath. She turned and staring at her was a pair of purple eyes with streaks of silver. She opened her mouth to tell the creep to fuck off but nothing came out. She felt a pull, as if by strings at each of her joints and one in the center of her chest. All went black. A metallic sent filled her nose. She opened her eyes. Her hands and feet were tingling. She was lying in a sea of red satin. Her hands and feet were tied to the bed with leather straps. She suddenly became aware of a breeze. She was naked. Where the fuck are my clothes!! She wanted to scream but found she didn't have the energy for it. She suddenly saw a man stranding at the foot of the large bed. He smiled at her. His lips were full with a ring through the piercing in the middle of the bottom one. His smile gave her chills. His canines were much too sharp and long. He was shirtless. His arms were muscular and well defined, as was his chest and stomach. He walked around to the side of the bed. He was wearing a pair of loose fitting black jeans and a belt with a silver skull. Right below that belt was a visible bulge. "What the fuck?" finally the words came out. She started to tug at her restraints He chuckled at her efforts. "You are not going anywhere." His voice was deep and velvety. It almost calmed Amara, until she remembered she was tied nude to a bed. "Why not?" she demanded glaring at him. "This is why." He said as he knelt next to her and gently took a lock of curly hair between his fingers. "Your fiery hair and fiery personality. You will be one of a kind in my world. " "What are you talking about?" The sent of him filled her nostrils as he got ever closer. It was sweet but will a tang laying under the surface. "There is not a single redhead amongst vampires and I aim to change that. The vampire race has grown weak, so one as passionate as you will be a very good addition." "That doesn't explain the lack of clothing." She glares at him. She surprised herself when she realized she didn't care that he was talking about turning her into vampire. It really wouldn't be that different from her current life style. She sleeps all day and works all night. She hardly eats and she likes to bite until she draws blood. "First I have to make you mine." Amara felt her heart begin to pound. Yes she found the male very attractive, but the thought of him just taking her because he wanted to scared her, then excited her. She felt her green eyes drawn to the large bulge in his pants, then a stirring in her loins. "Yeah, no thanks." She bit her black lip. Suddenly she felt herself wanting to be back in her crappy apartment. "What makes you think you have a choice?" Suddenly he was on top of her, kneeling between her legs. He leaned over her, his long, straight black hair fell around his face. He smiled at her then went down. She expected him to go to her neck, but he went down further. His mouth wrapped around her pert nipples, his teeth clamping down as his mouth sucked it in. She gasped, closing her eyes. It was a sweet sort of pain, but she knew he didn't bite hard enough to draw blood. His large hand groped her other breast, his palm kneaded it. She felt a familiar wetness form between her legs. She couldn't help but moan at his touch. The male used his free hand to unbuckle his belt and pulled it off in one swift movement. He sat up and unbuttoned his jeans. She watched in amazement as he pushed down his pants. A thick cock formed a rather large tent in his boxers. She moaned at the very sight of it. It's the biggest she's ever seen. At hearing the sound the female made, he looked up at her smirking. He pushed down his boxers to reveal a pulsing dick, sticking out straight for her. He put his hands on her hips and pushed her up so that she sits up more. Then he got on his knees in front of her, pressing the tip of his hard on to her lips. She opened her mouth slowly, her soft lips grazing against the flesh of his lower head. He placed a hand on the back of her head and violently grabbed a handful of her hair. He quickly began to thrust, violating her throat with his member. It made it hard for her to breathe but she couldn't help but feel herself enjoying it. She used her tongue to cup the underside of his tongue and she began to move it side to side. Her green eyes were glued to his face as he looked down at her. As soon as she began to use her tongue, a smirk replaced a look of concentration. He began to quicken then he suddenly released her and was at the foot of the bed. "If you kick me I will tie your feet back up." He said as he reached down and ripped t he leather that held her feet to the bed. She felt the blood rush back to her feet, causing the tingling sensation to slowly fade. The he was between her legs. He put a hand on her pussy and smirked at her again. "It seems that you have been enjoying yourself." His smile was wicked as he slid his finger inside of her hole. She bit her black lip to keep from moaning, to keep from giving his the satisfaction. His hand was rough, which somehow, made his touch more enjoyable. He removed his finger and harshly grabbed her ankles. He put her legs on his strong shoulders and thrust his member deep inside her. She arched her back and her mouth fell slack as he repeatedly thrust into her. She could feel his thick cock stretching her hole to make room for him. His face was harsh as he thrust into her violently. She panted and moaned as he violated her. Her body was shaking with the pleasure he was giving her, though she knew he was doing it for himself. His grip on her legs was growing stronger as he thrust into her faster, feeling the bruises beginning to form. With each thrust her round breasts bounced toward her face but she didn't pay attention. Her eyes were closed and she seemed to have lost the ability to close her mouth as he pushed into her, pushed her into the bed repeatedly. Her body shook harder, and it became even harder for her to breathe. He thrust into her hard, feeling like he was going to rip right into her insides as she felt a sudden explosion inside of her. As she felt his squirt into her insides, he leaned down and clamped down on her breast. The pain lasted for not even a second as a rush of pleasure spread through her. She felt the blood leaving her but it made her calm. She could feel the warmth gathering into his mouth but she was serene. He thrust into her again as he continued to take her life force into him. All went black. She awoke to a strong metallic sent. The male was looking at Amara. He drew his wrist to his mouth and she could hear a soft sound as he bit into himself. He brought his wrist to her mouth. A drop fell on her lips. "Drink." She opened her mouth a felt the rush of the sweet liquid. She put her hand on the back of his wrist as she began to eagerly drink. As she drunk she became more aware of the sounds and smells that surrounded her. She could feel his member still deep inside of her. He pulled his wrist away and climbed off of her. She felt her pulse quicken. It kept going faster and faster. A pain hit her whole body, causing her to arch. The leather bindings on her wrists snapped easily. The pain pulsed through her as her heart beat faster than that of a hummingbird. Then it stopped. She took in a deep breath. She looked at the man, who had his back to her. She stared in disbelief. Cover his strong back was a blue and green dragon stared back at her. He turned to her, a smirk on his pale lips. "Now you will learn to feed." The Dragon This story was inspired by my good friend Naga di Kandang and his wife/Mistress Jalan. ***** Nia guides her horse around a twisted track in the mountains. Each step takes her farther from familiar territory and deeper into the lands of the dragons. It is a dangerous journey, but necessary. Coming around another turn, a valley suddenly opens up before her. The valley floor is a canvas of wild flowers, swathes of bright colors that delight the eye. The scent reaches even to the hills that formed the valley's walls. But Nia sees none of this. A glint of red in the air blinds her to the beauty spread before her. A dragon dancing through the air at the far end of the valley. The power and beauty bring tears to her eyes, and she releases a breath she hadn't known she was holding. The last time she saw him, he had been barely able to walk, his scales tinged gray and edging towards black. She had been warned he would never fully recover, had dreaded what she would find. Now... She allows the tears to spill freely as her horse picks his way down the rocky slope. Without warning, the dance ends. The dragon collapses, plummeting to the ground. A scream fills her throat as she pushes her horse as fast as she dares on the rocky slope. The falling shape disappears behind a slight fold in the ground, followed immediately by a loud splash. She heaves a great sigh of relief, but doesn't slow her horse. As she reaches the valley floor, the dragon reappears, climbing up the far side of the valley to a rocky ledge. On a rise at the far end of the valley, Long is pleasantly exhausted. He had pushed himself that morning, flying high and far. The dive into the hidden lake had taken the last of his strength. Pleased with his recovery, he curls up on a ledge to rest. Just as his head touches the ground, he feels the quiver of approaching hoof beats. He stands, torn between hope and annoyance, and turns towards the sound. Walking down the valley takes longer than flying, but he has already pushed himself too far today. His patience is hard pressed when he sees the figure riding towards him. He resists the urge to run, holding to a steady walk as she urges her horse to a canter. When Long finally reaches her, he changes form, shrinking down to a human seeming, with coarse red hair and golden eyes. He goes to one knee and grins up at her. Nia slides off her horse and grabs Long's hands, pulling him up into an embrace. "Demons, I've missed you!" He returns the hug and allows himself to rest his head on her shoulder. "Same. I'm sorry I wasn't waiting for you. I must have lost track of time." "Not your fault. I'm early." They remain holding each other for long minutes. Finally, Nia steps back and looks Long over. His frame is gaunt, like a bear after long hibernation. New lines etch his face, and there is a weariness to him that is not masked by his joy at her arrival. "Let's gather your things and hit the trail," she says, hiding her worry, "There's several hours of daylight yet, and I passed a good camping spot on my way in." To her surprise, he looks away. "I...I can try, Ma'am. I'm afraid I over did it flying. And—I'm still sleeping large parts of the day." Nia is disappointed, but understands. Nia makes a camp at the mouth of the cave where Long had made his temporary home. She hides her displeasure as Long makes no effort to help her, instead lying down and taking a short nap. When the camp is set, she watches him sleep; then decides that since they have time, she's going to take advantage of it. She pulls out a rope and stake from the tent she decided not to bother pitching. With Long still asleep, she binds his wrists together with the rope and uses the stake to pin his arms to the ground above his head. Long wakes as she pulls open the laces of his breeches and frees his shaft to reach for the sky. He groans and whimpers as her hands caress him. "Please, Ma'am, let me taste you." She ignores him, using her hands and mouth to bring him right to the edge. He quivers beneath her and she grins,"Don't you dare cum." Then immediately takes him in her mouth again, swirling her tongue around his head and playing her fingers up his shaft. "Yes, Ma'am" he bites out. A few moments later she releases him and kneels over his head. He whimpers and strains to keep still, craving her hands on him but wanting desperately to reach up and claim her with his mouth. She reaches down and uses her fingers to pleasure herself, letting him watch and hunger as she teases her clit and thrusts her fingers deep inside herself. She comes, long and hard, and collapses on top of him. "Do you still want to taste me?" she whispers in his ear.. "Please, Ma'am." She allows him to suck on her fingers, slick with her juices. When he finishes, she releases his hands and helps him sit up. They make dinner together, then curl up and fall asleep in each others arms. As Nia falls asleep, his shaft pokes at her stomach, and she wishes that she had dared to use him as fully as she would have before his injury. The next day they set out, Long walking while Nia rides. At first he keeps up easily, but overtime his energy sags. By noon he can't push himself anymore. Nia is annoyed that he didn't say something sooner, and annoyed with herself for not recognizing his weakness. She insists that they make camp early. Long fights depression, angry with himself for failing in something so basic. He feels even worse the next day when Nia puts him up on the horse. The following week is a difficult one for both of them. Nia ends up doing most of the work of camp, taking care of Long as well as herself. She is very cautious in the things she asks him to do—asks, not orders, a difference he feels very strongly. Even worse is when he needs to tell her he can't do something. He is unaccustomed to riding. In its own way it is as tiring as walking, but when he needs to he can fall asleep in the saddle—and does so more than once. At the first village they come to, Nia purchases a mule. Unlike Nia's horse, the new beast isn't used to the scent of a dragon, and doesn't take well to Long as a rider. For several days their speed is reduced even further as Long needs to fight the best each morning to mount and gain control. It takes nearly a week to settle the beast down. Long tries not to think about the state of their coin purse. They had little money to begin with, and the mule took almost all of it. A month after leaving the dragon's valley they have an establish routine. Long wakes early and puts a porridge on the fire for breakfast. After they eat, he rests while Nia packs up the camp, saddles the mounts and gets them ready for the day. They ride out, moving at a slow and easy pace. After traveling half the day, they stop. Long rests again while Nia writes in her journal or carves. If Long is able to, they travel for several more hours after supper, otherwise they make camp and settle in for the night. Nia is constantly watchful. More than once Long has tried to continue and ended up collapsing in the saddle. She hands down strict rules about what he should and shouldn't do and just how hard he should push himself. Not wanting to push him herself, she hasn't brought him to her bed since their first night together. Long sleeps fitfully. He knows he is lucky to be alive, lucky that Nia was willing to wait for him,but he feels too strongly all he has lost. He can't help wondering is Nia would be better off without him. She won't release him—he knows her better than that. But he sees what his illness costs her. The next day they are passing through a village when a messenger arrives. Bandits raided the next town, and they need help. Nia and Long know they need to respond, but the town is a full day's ride away. "You-" Nia starts. "I'l-" Long cuts himself off. Once they would needed no words. A glance, a nod, and they'd be off. Now there is a moment of silence. "Follow as you can," Nia finally says, "I'll ride ahead and deal with this. With luck I'll have it wrapped up by the time you arrive." "You shouldn't face them alone." "And what good will you do anyone if you fall on your face getting out of the saddle?" "I-" There is nothing he can say to that. And the truth burns like dragons-bane. He says nothing as she gathers her things to ride out. Nia hates leaving him behind. She isn't fond of the idea of facing the bandits without him at her side, and she hates knowing she hurt him. But it's the only answer. There is no way he can keep up in human form and...her thoughts skitter to a halt. Outside of battle, he stays in his human form—an old promise, and old rule, from when she first bound him to her. So long ago neither of them even thought of it any more. She had made an exception for while he healed, but the moment she had collected him, he had taken human form and stayed . They were fools, idiots. She turns back and pushes her horse into a trot. He is just leading his mule up to the mounting block when she pulls the reins out of his hands. Rebellion flashes in his eyes. She places a hand against his cheek and smiles. "Fly." It amuses her, the way his jaw drops. "Ma'am...Nia..." "Fly ahead. You'll have time to rest before I arrive." Finally he nods. "If that is what you want me to do." His odd response disturbs her, but she needs to hurry. "Yes," she says, and still leading the mule, pushes her horse into a fast trot out of town. Long soars above the forest. Nia is right, even a full day's ride is only a few hours flight. The flight will wear him out, but with time to rest at the end he will be able to fight. Not like riding the same distance. She is, he assures himself, just being practical. But he is used to being restricted to the smaller form, and it feels like a betrayal, to shed his human skin and take to the skies, tracking Nia from above like choice prey. He is supposed to be hers, to serve her and care for her. Disgusted with his own melancholy, and sure Nia would have some choice words for him is she could hear his thoughts, he puts his attention on flying, and tries to forget his disquiet. Nia finds Long resting at a bend in the road outside of town. Being able to trade off the horse and mule had allowed her to make better time than she expected. Even knowing what is waiting for them, she is tempted to let him rest longer, but his eyes pop open at her approach, and before she can say anything he leads the mule to a convenient stump to mount. The bandits are easy to find, and as always break quickly when one of the adventurers hunting them turns out to be a red dragon—even a young one. When the battle is over, Long collapses, leaving Nia to clean up on her own. They will get the traditional adventurer's 10% of the goods the bandits stole, which to her experienced eye looks to be about what they had spent on the mule. So, no great profit, but at least they will get their reserve back. She and Long need to have a long talk. They'd avoided discussing the future, the way his illness was impacting their adventuring. They haven't talked about the way they are being pulled apart, how uncomfortable they both are with the changes in their lives. She sits down next to him, and builds up the fire. "I should have done that," he murmurs. "Shh." "What else is a crippled dragon good for?" he tries to make it a joke, but the hurt and bitterness and self-pity seep through. He shakes himself. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't-" She kisses him. "You shouldn't, I shouldn't. We've both been under a strain lately. You've been so worried about letting me down..." "You've been terrified of pushing me too hard..." "I think it's time we remember a few things. Put your hands behind your head." She pulls out several sets of thongs and ties his hands together. A few moments later she had him fully bound. "Um...Nia...?" "That's 'Ma'am' unless you just want me to gag you..." He swallows. "Yes Ma'am" Pleased, she unlaces his pants and rips open his shirt, leaving him fully exposed. Then she pulled a hood over his head before going to prepare a few things. Long squirms against the ties, and shivers as the wind teases his exposed shaft, reminding him that he is in the open where anyone can see...assuming anyone would walk down this rarely-traveled lane that leads only to a bandit's hideout. He is tired and already hurting from the long day, and the ties cut into muscles that spasm randomly in the chill. He bites back a moan, and tries to listen for the sound of Ma'am's footsteps. He smells it first, a sharp astringent smell makes him whimper in the darkness under the hood. He feels her hand, warm and greasy, caress his shaft , and each touch leaves behind a warmth that quickly grows into the burning sensation he both loves and hates. She reaches further between his legs, and he gasps as she smears a great glob of the liniment about his hole. A few moments later something presses against his hole, entering him, filling him and bringing that hot burning sensation inside of him. He moans and thrashes in his bonds. She just laughs. After that becomes a blur. Pleasure and pain mixed in ways he will never be able to sort out, her own moans and cries filling his ears as she uses him for her own pleasure, her own fulfillment. Then she was cumming, bucking against him, and he screams as she grinds herself against his abused flesh. She bends down over him and bites him hard on the side of his neck, breaking the skin and drawing blood. Marking him once again as her own. They both sleep that night, better than they have since his injury. The Dragon & the Blacksmith "I'm getting too old to be rushing up mountains." The big man stopped and wiped his brow with a rag from his apron pocket. In his haste to meet the Lady, he had forgotten to take it off before leaving the forge. A bird of prey hovered lazily overhead, calling into the wind. The blacksmith looked around searching for a landmark to point him on his way. "Pass by the two-fingered rock," she said, her voice a faint echo in his mind as he strained to catch sight of her wheeling and dipping over the highest peak. "Then come to the summer meadow". He gulped and nodded, gathering all his courage to say, "There is a grotto I would show you, with a pool." He heard familiar laughter tinged with amusement tingle down his spine. "Very well. I shall wait for you. " Her laughter was tinged with sadness, making him ache to comfort her. He loved her, man and boy, ever since he chanced upon her while gathering gulls eggs. It seemed quite natural to his seven-year old mind when the shimmering dragon turned her deep blue eyes upon him and answered his questions politely. He raced home to tell his mother about his new friend, but when the chance came, he held his tongue, sensing the disbelief that would follow. This friendship was too precious to be sullied in any way. So he kept silent all these years. At first, he searched for her amongst the rocky crags, seeking inaccessible places where she might rest; but all in vain. Sometimes he caught her reflection in the horse trough, soaring high above the village and he called to her, bellowing her name until his throat was raw, but she did not answer. Passers-by thought him touched with madness and would have shunned him, had not the blacksmith taken him in. To be chosen by the blacksmith was a message in itself; he was singled out for a way of life not followed by all. As he grew tall and his frame larger from sheer hard work, the blacksmith taught him to call the dragon in a different way. He learned to listen to the rhythmic hiss of the bellows stoking the fire until the flames leaped and danced above the coals. Then he found he could weave the flames into a shape that called to her and she would answer. The smith passed beside the rocks and walked slowly into the summer pasture. The grass was still short from grazing sheep. Shepherds had taken them down to the lower fields a few days before, the nights were drawing in and frost hung on the thin mountain air. The pasture stretched before him like an endless lawn, dotted with colour from late flowering plants. All around, the mountains towered above him. The sun drew pigments from the rocks like so many splashes in a child's painting. They reminded him of the small offerings displayed on his kitchen walls at home, crafted by his youngest son. "I am here," he called, his eyes searching the crags for the familiar white figure. "I have lit candles for us." Her voice sounded close by, but still he could not find her. Then, suddenly, she sat up from the rock where she was lying and came towards him. This was no dragon, but a woman of medium height, her white hair tumbling down her back like spray from a waterfall. The blacksmith could only stand and gape. "I only walk with those I trust and rarely then," she explained, sensing his wonder at her human shape. "This place has always been special to me," the blacksmith told her, " but you have turned it into something wonderful. " The DragonLady's eyes flickered, but she seemed distracted by her new form. "I have seen white clouds scudding across the sky as I waited for you and felt grass beneath my fingers, even though I know my body is not there, only my mind. Are you really here in this world of mine? " "I am here, " the blacksmith said, slowly taking her hand in his. He raised it to his lips and gently kissed it. The DragonLady smiled and suddenly the valley was flooded with golden, afternoon light. "It is good not to be alone for a while, " she whispered. " Such courtesy is a rare gift indeed." "For this time, for as long as you have need, I am thine, M'lady." he said fervently; then, growing bold. "May I hold you? Just for a moment?" She inclined her head. "If you wish; such a touch is a gift in itself." The blacksmith opened his arms and she came to him. He wrapped her round with both his arms and cloak, treasuring her warmth and presence. There was silence for a moment, "A broad shoulder is a comfort indeed." "'Tis yours for the asking," the blacksmith replied. The DragonLady shivered. "I feel the power of the land within me, growing and yet slowing now as days draw shorter. Shadows from the trees grow longer as I sit in the sun." The smith looked up and saw that the sun had sunk below the mountains. The air was quickly growing chill. "'It's almost time to sleep, M'lady." She sighed. "Aye, as always, I steal time from myself; but, there are hidden benefits if the magic can be woven a little tighter, " "Aye, it can be woven, but the price could be high," He hoped his voice did not reveal his inner turmoil. Was this what she wanted from him - to draw down the moon and wake the magic within her? "I feel very calm, very peaceful." The blacksmith looked at her, his uncertainty gone. She called him and he had come to her. There was no need of questions between them. He took her hand again and led her into the grotto with its flickering candles and towards the pool. They stood together quietly near the edge. "The waters are green and dark. I cannot see my reflection. Can you see beyond the surface?" The blacksmith passed his hand through the water and the candle flames rose. Outside, the moon had risen and silver light shone through the crystal, causing their reflections to flicker across the ripples. The DragonLady gasped. "It's beautiful! How deep is it?" "We can test the waters... if you wish..." the blacksmith told her. "They call to me." "Then I shall go with you, so not to lose you to them. May I?" The DragonLady nodded. "I dare not go alone. I feel the need to immerse myself within them and to breath under them which I fear would not be a wise thing to do in this body." The blacksmith held his breath as she spoke. Was this the longing he heard in her voice, that she no longer wished to breathe the air of the world, but to seek oblivion in the dark green waters? He resolved he would not let her harm herself while he was with her. Magic was one thing, but her safety was paramount. The DragonLady looked down at her clothes. "How is one to be attired for this pool?" "There is no need for these." He reached for the clasp holding the flimsy gauze in place, looking into her eyes for permission. The DragonLady nodded. He undid the clasp and let her garments fall where they might. He hardly dared look upon her flawless body, but when he raised his eyes, she stood, tall and proud, forever beyond his mortal grasp. Fumbling, the blacksmith released his broochpin and spread his cloak upon the ground. Then he removed his clothes and stood before her, offering himself to her sight. The DragonLady covered his hand with hers, searching his face for unanswered questions. Her eyes had lost their dragon glow and looked more human. "There is more to this than just testing the waters, isn't there, Tholo?" He could not speak, but merely nodded, wondering what she was about to do. "There is air within the grotto and water waits for us within the pool. Candles flame around the edges and we are within the earth. This is a sacred time. I have long felt it, but with this act I take to myself your friendship. I do not know what I can offer you, but what I have is yours." The blacksmith's voice choked in his throat. That she should know his name, after all these years was almost too much. He embraced her quickly, then lead her to the still waters. She clutched his hand tightly, fear of the unknown making her shiver. He eased himself into the water, thankful that his feet quickly found the bottom. "Come, M'lady, " he encouraged her, "The water is blood warm and still, smooth as satin. See how the rock has formed a natural shelf for us to sit upon." She dipped an elegant toe into the water. After a few moments, she sat down on the edge of the pool and slid into the pool. A delighted smile came over her face as the waters covered her. She felt it tingle against every pore, the ripples caressing her in an unexpected way. The blacksmith wished he'd brought something with him to offer her refreshment. She must have caught his thought, for when he looked again beyond the candles, there stood a golden flagon and two goblets. He reached over and poured the steaming wine, offering one to the DragonLady as she sat on the ledge watching him. "Thank you," she said, savouring the wine. "I can smell special herbs and spices. I hope it pleases you?" The blacksmith nodded, almost knocking his goblet over in his enthusiasm. The wine held memories of summer harvests and winter rituals, evocative moments when the land and he had been one. Slowly, she sipped her wine, smiling as she shared his feelings. In one fluid movement, she placed the goblet on the ground and let her body float in the water. The blacksmith acted swiftly, catching hold of her so that her head could not sink beneath. "I will allow no harm to come to thee, whilst thou stays with me." he whispered firmly in her ear. "I will gently wrap my arms around you, to ensure your safety." Her laughter sent a tingle down his spine. "You have anchored me, Tholo. You are very shrewd, for the call of the waters still rings in my ears." She rested her head on his shoulder and sighed contentedly. The blacksmith began to hum, a strange and haunting melody rose to his throat unbidden. He felt the notes easing his companion, while echoes reverberated throughout the grotto then passed into the night air beyond. The DragonLady closed her eyes, aware of his presence beside her. Despite the warmth of the pool, she felt heat rising from his body, soaking through her tired bones and easing them. He had always been different, this one, eager to know her for herself, rather than for what she could grant him. It was a long time since she allowed herself to feel protected in this way and she curled up gratefully against him. The blacksmith looked down at her peaceful face and was content. Much later, she asked, "What would you have the water show me?" "Your heart's desire fulfilled," he replied without thinking. "You are a wise man." "I am but a man..." "You are a good and kind man, my friend." The DragonLady scooped up some water and poured it gently over his chest as if anointing his heart with precious oil. He ached to embrace her, to show her the love he held for her. As if hearing his unspoken request, the DragonLady wound her arms around his neck and nuzzled him gently. He looked deep into her eyes and found her holding his gaze, searching for something deep within him. He opened his soul to her. She smiled a wistful smile and breathed the lightest kiss upon his cheek. The blacksmith reached up and wiped the single tear from her cheek with his hand, mingling it with the water. "You touch me deeply," she whispered, "with your kindness and solicitude." "As you do me..." The DragonLady sighed and he held her closer. "I have missed you so," he told her. "I worried." His concern pounded with the beating of his heart and he could feel her breath, warm and scented upon his cheek. "Forgive me." Her voice was but a murmur in his ear. "I did not wish to worry you." "You are forgiven," he held her to him as if he would never let her go. Smiling, she rubbed her cheek against his, reaching through the roughness of his beard to the softness below. The blacksmith turned his head and kissed her, softly, shyly. She moved towards him, stretching her body so that it floated out into the water. He reached up, clasping her wrists firmly, but gently. He was not going to lose her now. She rolled onto her back and rested her head once more on his shoulder. She let her eyelids close, almost missing the kiss he planted on her hair. High above, in the world, the moon shone straight down into the grotto as if granting them her blessing. "I can feel the light of the moon on me," she murmured, "burning brightly and yet cool upon my skin." The blacksmith shuddered. One moment longer and she would draw the moon into herself and him with it. Much as he loved her, he did not wish to share her fate, to soar amongst the clouds, all seeing, all knowing, yet so alone. In his mind he heard the laughter of his children, saw his wife turn from her cooking to smile at them. He could not leave them. His was a world of common things, of food and warmth and love. He could not give this Lady what she wished. Better end it now, before it was too late for both of them. "Come, M'lady. It's time to leave the water now. " She took a deep breath releasing it slowly, regretfully. "Yes, you are the wise one. The candles burn ever lower and sleep claims me." He helped her up out of the water and she shook herself of the pool's droplets. "Come to my cloak," he murmered, "I will anoint you and help you on your journey to the land of dreams." She laid herself down in front of him. The blacksmith felt in one of the hidden pockets of his cloak and took out a small, silver flask. He poured the aromatic oil into his hand and began to massage her. It was a service he offered all those who came to him for their last initiation, the Great Rite, to comfort them in any moment of doubt, showing he honoured them and cared enough to take their fears away. The God granted him many things and a sense of compassion was one. He watched her relax under the magic of his fingers, knowing their time together would soon be over. He took his shirt, and rolled it into a pillow for her head. She thanked him and he was able to give her a gentle smile. Then he stretched out beside her, leaning on an elbow and gazed at her. She stretched each limb lazily and rolled on her side, curling up against him "Let me hold you," he begged her, "that I may protect you as you sleep. Rest well and within Her arms find dreams worth keeping in your heart." "I will..." she murmured. "Blessed be, my friend." He listened as her breathing slowed and soon she slept. The candles flickered and even though he tried to see her face and feel her body within his arms, sleep claimed him too. When he awoke, she was gone, a single white dragon scale resting upon the darkness of his cloak where the DragonLady lay. The Dragon and the Widow This is my first submission, so please be don't be mean, but I do welcome feedback. It was the custom of the village in the valley to offer part of each harvest to the dragon that lived in the mountains and protected them. Once every 10 years all the unmarried women of the village were presented to the agent of the dragon for inspection, a human who was whispered to be a sorcerer because he was willing to interact with the dragon. One of these young women would be claimed as a sacrifice to the dragon; the woman never returned. Some said that the fate of these women was to be eaten. Others said that the dragon forced them to take care of their young. There were yet other tales, each of the horrible fate for the woman. Mothers used the dragon as a threat to misbehaving children. After all, since the women never returned, and a new one had to be given every 10 years, it could not be a happy ending to a life, could it? Over the years the village had come to interpret the degree as being for the village's virgins to assemble to be chosen for the sacrifice. Also over the years, many resented having to offer their daughters and sisters to the dragon. After all, did they really still need to offer a woman to the dragon? Weren't their grains and fruits and metal crafts and linens good enough? So the villagers formed a plan. Just before the time of the harvest, in the tenth year, most of the eligible young women were quickly married off, or given to men to lose their virginity so they could not be among those offered. However, there were some who were not so lucky, and there were some that were still quite young, barely more than children. The day of the offering came, bright and sunny, and the villagers watched the dragon's agent leave the mouth of the cave near the top of the mountain and begin winding his way down the path. The dragon's agent was a very tall, muscular man, with tanned skin, and dark hair and eyes, but he always looked this way and never seemed to age. He wore fine clothing with metal embroidery that was rumored to be worked in gold thread. He always carried a staff and as he approached the village, his expression was one of boredom. All villagers, unless too ill to walk, were required to be present at the offering of the harvest tribute and selection of the sacrifice. The dragon's agent looked over the cart and the donkey attached to it, then to contents of the cart, and then over to the women assembled for selection. After looking at the girls, he dryly said, "You know, there was a time when the best was offered to the dragon and it was considered an honor to be chosen to come back with me to meet the dragon. Now you offer him children. He will not find this acceptable." The head of the town's elders stepped forward. "Sir, unfortunately the other women of the village have not been virtuous and have allowed their virginity to be claimed. What you see here are all that remain." The agent snorted lightly. "The agreement your village made with the dragon was not for virgins, but simply for unmarried women. Present all your unmarried women so that I may make my selection on behalf of the dragon and return home." "But Sir!" the elder protested, "Some of these unmarried women are pregnant or have small children." "Fine," the agent said, his exasperation plain. "Present only those that are not pregnant or have children." The elder looked back on the crowd and women and families began weeping. "Come forward," he said. A few reluctantly ventured forward. "I still don't think this is all," the agent said angrily. "Elder I am going to examine your offerings for one minute and if all the eligible women are not present, then I will tell the dragon you no longer wish to continue this arrangement." While the villagers had all claimed before the agents arrival that they did not need the dragon's protection, when faced with the possibility, they all actually panicked. "No, no Sir! We do wish to continue," the Elder protested, knowing afraid of the horrible wars and calamities outside the valley. He turned back to villagers. "Bring forth the women now!" The weeping and protests continued as members of other families grabbed young women and pulled them out of their family's arms and pushed them forward, everyone terrified that the agreement would be broken. The agent turned back and examined the new offerings. On the edges of the group a plump woman past the blushes of youth with brown hair walked forward on her own, and stood with the weeping woman who were gathered there, patting their backs and offering comfort though most seemed to sneer at her efforts. "What are you doing?" one of the villagers shouted at the woman. "He wants the young, pretty women, not you!" "But I'm unmarried," the woman said calmly, though clearly she was not favored of the villagers. "You're a widow," shouted another, "The dragon doesn't want you." "Well if that's true, I won't be chosen," the woman said with a soft smile. "And this way, no one can say that I did not do my duty in offering myself." The agent watched this woman who was probably in her mid-30's. Her breasts were full, but so was her waist and hips. Yet she seemed to be calm when all around her acted as if the world was ending. "What is your name?" the agent asked the woman as the villagers watched flabbergasted. "Mara, Sir," she replied, with the same calmness. The agent stepped closer and watched the woman, and then he realized that while she appeared calm on the outside, her pulse was thundering wildly. He motioned her forward from the other women and then walked around her, as if examining her from all sides. He watched as she blushed and he smiled internally. "Well Mara, it appears that thanks to you, the others will be spared. You are my choice." All the villagers seemed to gasp in shock and begin murmuring among themselves. Mara was also shocked and stood there for a moment before saying, "Very well, Sir. Should I pack my things?" "You won't need them," came the agent's reply. Mara nodded, then looked back toward the village, then up to the path the agent had come down and asked, "Are you ready to go then Sir?" The agent was impressed with her bravery and wondered why she had not asked so say goodbye to anyone. He took the donkey's reigns and without a word began the trek back up the mountain. He would look back every so often to make sure she was following. When they reached the opening of the dragon's cave at the top of the mountain the agent directed the cart inside and then heard Mara take a deep breath as she walked into the cave. Mara followed the agent around a series of large tunnels and then came to a large room with many pillows, blankets, and rugs strewn about. The agent directed Mara to a round slightly raised platform that was enclosed on three sides with mirrors. He watched her for a moment as she stood there. Mara herself wondered what would happen to her now as the agent just stood there looking at her. She also wondered when she would meet the dragon and what he would look like. She was surprised when she heard the agent command, "Remove your dress." "Don't you think we should wait for the dragon?" Mara asked slightly nervously. The agent laughed and went to the center of the room and began removing his clothes. Mara turned her back to him, blushing and closing her eyes. Then she heard the agent command, "Turn back around and open your eyes." When Mara did so she realized she was looking at the dragon. She quickly realized that the agent and the dragon were the same. "But how?" she uttered, confused. Then watched as the dragon again assumed a human form. "Magic," he replied as if it was obvious. "Dragons can assume a human form any time they wish. But Mara, I've told you to do something, and you haven't done it. You belong to me now, and I always expect immediate obedience." "But I thought you were going to eat me or kill me or something?" Mara protested. The dragon laughed, "Well I just might do those things, just not in the way you had planned. But you still have not obeyed, and now I will have to punish you." The dragon stalked toward Mara, still in his human form and she backed up, but tripped over the edge of the platform and fell against the mirror. He grabbed her and dragged her back forward, up onto the platform, his strength very obvious despite her weight. "Do not disobey me and do not run from me," He growled. "I'm sorry Sir," Mara whispered truly frightened. Then she watched as the dragon grabbed the front of her bodice and ripped the fabric down the middle. She could not help the blush and the gasp that escaped her. He roughly pulled the rest of the fabric off of her and threw it to the ground. He gripped her chin and forced her to look up into his eyes and then said, "Your punishment is that you will remain naked in my presence at all times, unless I tell you otherwise. Do you understand?" Mara tried to nod, but that elicited a growled, "When I ask you a question I expect to hear an answer." "Yes Sir." "Very good. Now I want you to move your hands behind your back and push your chest out. You will move your legs apart until I could slide my between your thighs and stroke you from anus to clit. Do you understand?" "Yes Sir" "Then do it." Mara moved herself into the requested position. She was thankful that she was at least facing away from the mirrors. Then she felt him pick up her breasts in each hand as if he was weighing hem. "How many lovers have you had? He asked as his thumbs stroked across her nipples. Her face flamed but she was fearful of displeasing him, so she answered, "Only one." "Your husband?" "Yes." "How long ago did he die?" "Two years." "And have you been masturbating since then?" "What Sir?" "Masturbating, making yourself climax." "Umm, a few times Sir." "How many is a few? Once a week, once a month?" "Once a month" "Why?" "Because I missed having a lover. And it felt good." She whispered the last, wishing this bizarre conversation would end. Her nipples were beginning to ache from his stroking and despite her embarrassment, she was experiencing pleasure. "Why did you not take a lover?" He removed his hands from her breasts and then walked behind her. He spread apart the cheeks of her buttocks with one hand and ran his finger around her anus. Mara jumped at the unexpected touch and tried to pull away but he growled, "Stay still." Mara replied to his question, "Because no one wanted me." "Why not?" "Because I am large and barren." "Barren?" "I can't have children. He walked back around in front of her. "Then you would make an even better lover; no consequences for fucking you senseless." He watched her blanch at his proclamation. The he reach up between her thighs and began rubbing her labia. She could not help herself and felt herself getting damp. She also could not help her eyes from traveling down his chest at this point to look at his cock, which was hard, long, and thick. She knew she would stretch, but she wondered if it would hurt to have him inside her. He was much thicker and longer than she'd experienced before. "Hmm, nice," he murmured as he felt her wetness against his fingers. Then he slipped a finger up inside her and she gasped. He began roughly pumping his finger in and out of her, "You are going to make an excellent fuck toy," he commented. Then he slid a second finger into her, and rubbed her clitoris with his thumb. She could not help but moan; she felt full and it was very pleasing, then his thumb was driving her crazy. Unconsciously her hips began moving against his fingers, trying to keep them within her. He leaned his head down and grasped one of her nipples in his mouth, licking, sucking, and biting on it. She could feel herself reach ever closer to orgasm when suddenly he held his fingers still within her. As she tried to move her hips on his fingers he said, "No my pet, stay still. Now I need you to do something for me. I need you to say 'I am Master's fuck toy.'" Dazed she looked at him, but she could not bring herself to say it. "If you don't say it, then you won't get to cum, and we already know you like to cum." She again tried to move against his hand and he gripped her with an arm around her waist, pulling her against him. "No, no" he chided,"you are my fuck toy. I decide if and when you get to cum and what you must do." She still resisted saying it and heard him sigh, "We can do this the easy way or the hard way, my pet. Either you can say, 'I am Master's fuck toy,' and I let you come OR I can punish you for disobeying. I won't ask you again." Even though he'd hardly been touching her, she felt on fire and desperately wanted to be allowed to climax. She was the sacrifice, so she supposed that meant that she had to be whatever he wished. "I am Master's fuck toy," she whispered. "I can't hear you pet." "I am Master's fuck toy," she said louder. The moaned as his fingers again began moving with her and his thumb resumed rubbing her clitoris. He nipped her breast, and commanded, "Louder." "I am Master's fuck toy," she cried out feeling her climax swiftly approaching. "Very good pet, then I think it's time you served your purpose." He pulled his fingers from her body and said, "On your hands and knees, facing the mirror." She quickly moved to comply wanting to be able to cum and hoping that she would if he penetrated her with that thick cock. He positioned himself behind her and told her to watch the mirrors, then he grabbed her hair and pulled her head back as pushed his cock into her. She hissed at the painful pleasure of his stretching her and pulling her hair. He was gentle with her though, penetrating a little bit at a time until he was as far in as he could go. Putting one hand on her hip he steadied her as he began to pound within her. Moans and gasps and whimpers poured out of her with every movement of his hips. Soon, she heard him whisper to her, "Don't climax yet. You have to have permission." She whimpered again, "Please Sir" "No, not Sir, who am I?" "M-ma-astter" she stuttered as he continued pounding her. "That's right and what are you?" "Fuck toy." She answered swiftly. "Very good, my pet. Now beg me to let you cum." She groaned, she desperately wanted to come and could easily do so, but was afraid to without permission. She found herself pleading, "Please, please, Master, may I cum." He smiled a devilish smile in the mirror and said, "Yes pet, cum for me now." She exploded all over his cock, her whole body shuddering. He kept his grip on her hair and continued to ride her through it. Soon the feelings became too intense and she begged him, "Stop, please, stop." "Not yet pet, you need to cum more, and I have not cum yet. You do not want to leave me unpleased, do you?" She wailed, "Master, its too much" "No, its good, just relax." Then he reached around moving his hand from her hip to once again play with her clit while he continued to pound her. She felt her climax building again, swiftly, her body tightening and tightening. Soon she was panting, "Please Master, please may I cum." "I don't think fuck toys get to call themselves I, it implies ownership and you do not own you, I do." His own breathing was becoming harsh. "Please Master, let Your fuck toy cum." "Very nice fuck toy, yes, the toy may cum on her Master's cock." Once again she exploded, but this time he grabbed both her hips and pounded into her a few more times before grinding his cock deep and cumming inside her swollen, wet pussy. Barely breathing, she collapsed forward and the dragon followed her down, then rolled them both to their sides, keeping his cock within her. "That was very good to start my pet," He said.