15 comments/ 34444 views/ 93 favorites Queen to the Dragon King By: Jessika_Thorne As the lottery began, it was not difficult for Ciara to appear concerned. The lottery was an annual tradition in her village. As it began, an urn was prepared (it had been the same urn since Ciara's Grandmother's first lottery), filled with one white ball for every girl of bleeding age in the town. Then, in a solemn ceremony in front of the assembled village, a single white ball was removed, and replaced with a black one. The urn was stirred, and the women of the village came forth one by one, each to draw a ball from the urn, beginning with the eldest and continuing down to the youngest. Ciara was neither the oldest, nor the youngest. The black ball Ciara held in her pocket felt heavy, and dull, and hot. She reached into her pocket, every few moments to touch it and assure herself that her plan was in place. Even so, a portion of her plan relied on luck; just under half the women in the village were older than she, and any one of them might draw forth the black ball. "You can feel the difference", she heard a teen boy near her hiss to his sister, trying to reassure her and ease her fears, as she fought to hold back tears. "The black ball is going to be warmer. Plus, they're not the same size; the black ball is bigger." Ciara knew such thoughts to be untrue; the balls were polished to be perfectly rounded, and all were identical except for colour. She should know; she was one of the few living women to have touched the black ball. She'd had to, in order to make the copy she held in her pocket. There was a sigh of relief among the crowd as the new widow Mary Schaffer drew out a white ball. "S'only right", a man to Ciara's left hand side said to nobody in particular, "What with her having such a hard year". Ciara reached into her pocket, and ran her fingers over the ball again. She'd tried to think of a way around this portion of the Lottery struggling to come up a way to avoid the risk that someone who had to take their turn before hers would draw the ball. She'd thought of a dozen ways, but none that could be assured they wouldn't have been noticed. She palmed the ball again, then released it. She glanced about, and wondered if anyone had noticed how often she was reaching into her pocket. The faces in the crowd, though, told her she could have been doing near anything without raising anyone's alarm, so long as she was not the one drawing from the urn. Abruptly, a gasp rippled through the crowd, and Ciara spun to face the bin, feeling the color drain from her face. There stood Laina Woods, mother of three children (two girls), bride to Ryan, and there, between her fingers .... The black ball. "No!", Laina cried, dropping the ball as though it was scalding hot, and it landed with a dull thud that seemed to echo over the crowd. Ciara's mouth hung agape, as she watched all of her planning for this day had be ruined by Laina's terrible luck! "Now, now", the mayor said, as the crowd twittered, simultaneously disapproving and relieved. "Now, now, Laina, everyone takes their turn. You'll have a chance to say goodbye to Ryan, and to the children, of course." Then, to the crowd, he continued, his voice changing to sound almost upbeat, "The choice is made! Laina will be this year's Queen of the Feast!" Amidst the cheers, and Laina's tears, Ciara made the decision to act quickly. She turned on her heel to leave the celebration, not sparing the time to watch Laina's husband embrace her for what he thought was the last time, or watch her crying children cling to her side. If Ciara's plan was to still go through, she needed to act quickly. She hurried to her house, moving as quickly as she could, running through her quickly formed plan in her head. She'd anticipated leaving, of course, and even anticipated the possibility that she would not win Queen. Therefore, her packing would be brief. When she arrived, she hastily daubed a hint of cow's blood behind her ears and on her wrists, as the Queen's attendants would do for Laina. Ciara then took her packed satchel, full of honey and mead and sweets, with a brush for her hair and twine to tie it back, and her book, a very special book, thick and dark blue, bound in the scaled hide of what most would find an entirely unfamiliar creature. And then, with one last look back over her home, she fled thru back door and into the night. Ciara knew the path the Queen followed into the woods each year was not long, and that it ended in a clearing around a tree stump. Then, on that stump, the Queen would sit waiting for her King to bring himself forth from the marsh and bring his blessing to their union, allowing the town to prosper for another year. Ciara meant to bring an end to the tradition and a spot of bad luck was not going to be enough to stop her! Though she doubted that anyone from town had noticed her missing, but just in case, she moved quickly and quietly to avoid raising an alarm. The sound of the raucous party behind her continued, with the town contributing to the Queen's preparations, as she crept along in the quiet stillness at the edge of the swamp. The clearing appeared before Ciara abruptly; a last-minute turn had kept concealed it from notice practically until she had taken her first step into it. More, she was surprised how near it was to town, no more than a few minutes away. It had so often been implied that the queen had quite a walk to meet her King. It was quiet and still in the clearing, and in the center there was an ancient tree stump. Around the stump, there was simple circle of rocks, and around them a ring of longer grasses and flowers had taken root. That stump was the spot, the place the Queen was to meet the King. Ciara breathed in deeply, taking in the damp and warm scent of the nearby marsh. She exhaled, set her jaw, and advanced towards the stone circle. At the edge of the stone circle, Ciara stopped and began to make final her preparations. She adjusted her shirt, and the skirt; like many others, she'd already been wearing her best for day of the Lottery. She drank the honey she'd brought with her, grimacing at the sickly-sweetness as she chugged it down. Then rinsed her mouth with the wine, both of which were essential parts of the Queen's readiness. She had already daubed the blood behind each ear, a scent to call to her King. And hastily, she wove a crown, as she'd done before as a young girl, of twine and grasses and flowers, to wear upon her head. All preparations done, Ciara gave herself one a final moment of hesitation, and then, with a notable effort and artificial certainty, she jammed her eyes closed and stepped into the center of the circle of stone, to wait. After about forty seconds, Ciara released the breath she'd been holding, nervously opened her eyes one by one, and looked about the clearing. She remained alone. She wasn't certain what she'd been expecting, as nobody could watch the Queen enter the circle. She'd anticipated something more dramatic than nothing at all. "Hello...?", Ciara called out to the woods around her, immediately feeling foolish for doing so, as she heard her voice echo back from the trees. Yet her calling out helped to make it clear that she was wrong when she thought nothing had happened while her eyes were closed. Now, a strange tension hung in the air; since she had set foot in the circle, something had changed, even if Ciara couldn't put her finger on what it was. A moment later, the realization dawned on her. "So quiet", she said, both to herself and to test the silence. There was no noise, not a sound, not a peep. Now, no birds sang and not so much as a leaf rustled. Even the bugs had fallen silent. Silence reigned, even as the sun blazed in the late summer sky. Ciara cast her gaze about the clearing, and her nerve faltered for a moment. Half a thought raced through her mind, as she considered throwing her plan away, casting down her bag, and fleeing from the clearing. Nobody would ever know she'd been here, and she could try again next year, after a chance to build up her courage. But her thoughts turned to Laina's husband and her young children, and nodded to herself. If her book was right she had the opportunity to end this macabre tradition. The momentary trip Ciara had taken inside her head came to sharp stop when she saw trees on the far side of the clearing shudder, as if grasped by an unseen hand. She gasped, even though she'd tried to steel herself, for the King was here. A low rumble emanated from in the woods where the trees had shuddered. If Ciara had been of mind to describe it to someone, she might have suggested that it had reminded her of a cat as large as a house, purring. Ciara licked her lips, finding her mouth suddenly dry and her voice to have taken its leave. On her third attempt she finally spoke, to croak out "My ... My King?", asking the trees what she already knew to be true. "I", the rumbling voice answered, "Am not your King." As it spoke, the creature revealed a glimpse of itself through the trees and shadows and tricks of the light. It was his side, and it glistened as if it were wet and shimmered as if it were covered in scales as it moved through a patch of light. There was the hint of dense and powerful muscles rippling just beneath the surface. Involuntarily, Ciara gasped. "Did they not tell you? Did they not warn you of my nature? Your fate, Oh Queen?", the voice asked. The voice's tone carried a noted of derision or dismissiveness, or perhaps as though the idea amused him. "It is ... I mean, they said you were, were a beast, like ... a serpent, only much larger, and more...", Ciara began, and then trailed off, as the creature's foreleg emerged from the forest. The forepaw was as large across as a small table, and at the end of each digit-like toe there was a sinister and terrible claw as long and sharp as a sword. The forearm seemed to somehow resemble a densely knotted rope, like a thick cord of taut muscles eagerly awaiting the chance to spring into action. And further up, at the shoulder ... The shoulder disappeared into a shadow, but betrayed the presence of a massive creature. Seeing even a glimpse of the King of the Forest sent a shudder down Ciara's spine, a shiver of fear and panic as she felt her breath catch in her throat. "More?", the King spoke, sounding as if the fear that was writ large across Ciara's face amused him. "More? Oh, more! Yes, more ... intelligent. Cunning. Shrewd.", Ciara said, finishing her earlier thought. The King's paw, although it was just as much a hand, dragged slowly across the earth and left furrows where the claws passed. "More intelligent that a serpent? Such high praise. What do you think, my Queen? Am I more cunning than a serpent...? As shrewd as ... as a fox, perhaps?", the King asked, his voice half a snarl. "Oh, much more so.", Ciara said, made cautious by the sarcasm in the King's tone. "I ... the stories, they ... they leave out any details, and say only that you ... demand a Queen, a new Queen, each harvest..." At that moment the King's head emerged from the undergrowth and Ciara fought not to scream, letting out a gasp instead. The triangular head was nearly two feet across at the middle, broader at the top where the horns projected out and tapering down to his muzzle. The King's oval, serpentine eyes were each as large as saucers, and glimmered as if with an inner fire. A ridge of horns curved upwards and outwards along the back of the King's skull, tapering for about three feet before coming to a menacing tip. His thin lips were curled slightly, to display a line of gleaming white teeth, wickedly sharp. A dragon. Ciara had read the stories in the traveller's book she carried in her satchel. Dragons were rapacious, and their desires could never be satisfied. The more a dragon got, the more it would crave. Their hunger could eat herds of livestock, and their thirsts would drink rivers dry. Ciara blinked, staring at the dragon. She very much wanted to touch the King and feel his scales to know if they as were moist as they looked. Would the scales be smooth and silky or rough like rocks? Ciara knew they were durable enough to turn aside swords and axes, but stories told that they were also sensitive enough that a dragon could feel things before touching them. Into the silence of the King staring at her and Ciara gazing back at him, Ciara sighed, "...you're amazing.", her sense of wonder momentarily pushing aside her fear. The King responded by widening his eyes, pulling his head back, and raising it, tilting it slightly to one side. His eyes narrowed. "Flattery will not save you from your fate, my Queen.", he said. So close to Ciara, the deep baritone of his voice caused her whole body to feel like it was thrumming. Ciara shook her head. "Of course not. A Queen for the King is the price to leave our livestock and children alone. I would not ask to be spared." The King nodded slightly, still looking for the trick in Ciara's words. "I ... I brought something for you. Well, for me, for you." Without taking her eyes from the King, Ciara cautiously reached into her bag. She closed her hands around the glass jar that held the results of her research. The King's eyes narrowed and he growled lightly. Ciara paused, gazing directly into the King's eyes. "You have nothing to fear from me, my King. Am I not your Queen?", she asked, licking her lips. The beast surveyed Ciara up and down, appraising her. He then nodded, once. Ciara resumed moving, retrieving the stowed bottle from her pack. She removed the lid cautiously, and the pleasing smell of the potion rushed out. It smelled of lavender and honeysuckle with an undercurrent of copper to cut the sickly-sweet smell. The King sniffed at the air, narrowing his eyes while his tongue hungrily flicked along his lips. Ciara spoke softly, tilting the jar towards the King, glancing down to the ground. "I found the recipe in an old book, from a travelling peddler. It was quite complex, and ..." Ciara looked back up to met the King's gaze again, but saw that his gaze was fixed on the bottle. In her stomach, Ciara felt a flutter of genuine hope that her plan might succeed... So with no further words, she tipped the full bottle back, chugging its contents. She could taste the oils and the blood, just as the book had warned. The brew tasted like honey mixed with chalk, and had a thick and unpalatable consistency like spoilt milk. There was nothing pleasant about consuming the potion, yet as soon as Ciara forced herself to swallow the first mouthful she felt a pleasant, warm tingling in her thighs and upper arms. As she continued to drink that same tingle moved throughout her body, to her shoulders, the small of her back, and her calves. As she gulped the final mouthful, that wonderful sensation came to settle into her chest, producing a feeling not unlike having a purring cat perched there. The potion fully consumed, Ciara licked her lips. Despite the potion's foul taste and worse texture, she found that she wished she had just a little more left. Licking her lips again, she looked up towards the King. She gasped, startled to find that the King's face was now within a foot of her own. His wide nostrils flared as he found Ciara's scent. His eyes narrowed to mere crescents and rolled up beneath his eyelids. His thick tongue lolled out of his mouth just a little, and Ciara struggled to keep from laughing. "Wh... what is... what was in that potion?', the King asked as he rocked his head slowly back and forth. Both of his forelegs were out of the forest, and he kneaded the ground with them like an immense cat. Ciara felt a smile cross her lips. "I'm pleased you care for it, my King", Ciara answered, lowering her voice to murmur, "It is made of honeysuckle, bacon fats, bee's honey, love-in-idleness, and a hint of extract of Antirrhinum, along with a few other ...". Ciara stammered to an stop as the tips of the King's forked tongue ever so gently played across her shoulder. The sensation of his tongue grazing her shoulder was electric, and Ciara bit her lip to keep from moaning. The book's warning that the potion heightened the senses of the one who imbibed it was true. The touch of the King's tongue gave Ciara shivers as he traced from her shoulder along her collarbone. Cautiously, Ciara raised a hand to the King's face. His eyes remained half-closed as she gently set her hand along his muzzle between his eyes and his upturned snout. The scales there were smooth, with a hint of a ridge only as one scale gave way to another, and warm to the touch. She gasped softly at the feel of him. How many hours as a young girl had she spent, wondering what it would be like to touch a dragon? Ciara brought her hand along the King's face, lowering it to touch at his lips. They seemed to be the only part of him that were not scaled, and were instead as soft a thing as Ciara had ever known. The lips trembled at her touch, quivering as she traced her fingers along them. At the same time, the King's tongue ran up and down the side of her neck. The tips of his forked tongue felt almost sharp as they traced along the side and front of her neck like delicate fingers that were just beginning to explore her. A wonderful bubbly warmth began to grow in Ciara belly and move through her body, and she could feel her lips swell, and pout, and she longed for a kiss. "My King...", she said, and her voice was low, nearly beneath her breath, which came more quickly than before. "...do you like it? My ... gift?" Her answer was a bemused laugh. The King settled his forequarters down, curling into position along the ground, and then sluggishly raised a paw, curling the sharp talons of it. Ciara gasped as the paw set around and about her, and gently but forcefully pushed her onto her back on the ground. One claw was eleven inches past her left shoulder, and she felt it dig into the earth, to anchor the paw in place. Another, the one might call the King's thumb, dug in off her right-hand side, while a third sank into the earth near her left hip. The pad of the King's paw, with the consistency of a firm mattress, pressed Ciara to the ground. Beneath his strength, Ciara could move, struggle, and breathe, but could not escape. She set her hands on the King's finger and pushed, but found she was unable to move him at all. "My... King...", she murmured as she felt her legs rock back and forth. The feeling of being pinned by the King's great strength and the warmth of the pad of his paw holding her in place was adding to a growing tingling sensation between her legs. Her hips communicated to her mind a sensation of want which was rapidly transitioning to one of need. The King produced a low rumble that could have been called a purr. Ciara could feel the noise as much as hear it, with the deep base causing her to quiver. The sensation the purr gave her was enough that Ciara could not help but rock her hips back and forth while scissoring her thighs, the sensation between her legs rapidly growing stronger. The King's tongue deft raised her side of Ciara's skirt and slowly pulled itself along the outside of her right thigh. His tongue was warm and moist without being wet, and the feel of it sent a shudder through Ciara. She felt her skin quiver where he traced with the edge of his forked tongue. "My King, I ... It feels so...", she murmured, but she found it hard to speak as her breathing had given way to panting. She rocked back and forth in an effort to free her arms, but the sensation of futile struggling only added to the heat growing between her legs. The low rumble from the King's upper chest continued as his tongue trailed up and along Ciara's thigh. She felt her knees instinctively part as the spear-points of the King's tongue taunted her moist and cream-colored upper thighs. Ciara looked down along her body to find that the King had lowered his head and was peeking into his paw to watch his prize. She bit her lip as she caught herself wondering if he approved of what he saw. Queen to the Dragon King Pt. 02 Ciara had spent seven days as a captive of ecstasy. The King of the Forest had exhausted her body time and again. When she hungered, her King had fed her, and when she was thirsty, he provided her water. He slept with her pinned beneath his forearm, and she spent most of her nights with his seed, thick and slippery, soaking into her body. He had not told her a name, nor had he ever asked hers. She was "Queen", or "my Queen", but when he said it, with his voice a harsh growl and his words a resounding baritone, he might just as well have been calling her "my plaything" or "my pet". And she felt much like a pet, crawling about in the shadowy darkness of the cave, brewing her marvelous potions to make her body ready for her King's desires. Not that she had ever failed to enjoy herself; the King gave her great pleasure even as he took such pleasures for himself. Ciara felt a dull ache in her stomach; her potion was wearing off again. With a sigh, she slid from beneath her King's arm. She heard the coins, rocks, and gems that made up his bed shift, as he tucked his arm beneath him. If she was to have a master, her King was one of the best. If she were to say he had shown no kindness, she would also hurry to say he had shown no cruelty, and if the same choice were put to her again, to offer herself to spare her village, she would make it, and gladly. She filled the small golden bowl the King had given her with water from the basin at the side of the cave. Before the King had taken her, the most gold she had seen was in precious wedding rings, or the occasional purse of travellers from afar. Her King slept on wealth such as she had never imagined. And now, Ciara bathed from that wealth. Stories told that dragons were creatures of avarice, always craving more and never having enough, but thus far the King never hesitated to share his possessions, his lair, or his meals with her. Her hands washed and clean, Ciara sighed, and looked over to the ingredients she used for her potions. She was low on a few of the herbs her mixture required, and was out of honey. The wine, she'd learned already, could be substituted for the fresh juice of sweet berries, but the honey was, so far as she knew, irreplaceable. She glanced to the King. His manner was a strange mix of many other beasts; it was as though he was a cat, a man, a lizard, and even a bird, at times. When he slept and did not curl around her, he tucked his head around to rest on his rear flank, and curled his tail beneath his neck, reminding Ciara of a dozing kitten beside a warm fire, tightly curled and sleeping deeply. She glanced to the entrance of the cave. When he woke, he nearly always required immediate satisfaction. Without her brew in her system, she shuddered to think what his strength, or his girth, could do to her body. She knew the swamp, at least pieces and parts. She'd played in it as a girl, against her mother's wishes; she'd stared off into the trees trying to catch a glimpse of the King of the Forest long before she'd bought her precious book of potions from that traveller. The King often slept for hours at a time, another similarity to an immense, scaled cat. Ciara was confident she could be away, find her honey, berries and roots, and be back with the potion brewed and ready by the time her King awoke. Besides, the chance to stretch her legs and feel the sun on her face might do her some good, she reasoned. Quietly, Ciara searched through the stored chests from the King's plunders. Previously, the King had told her to dress herself from the garments found there; many were of fine silks and elaborate make, and Ciara has already spent hours tying them on. Selecting a lovely green dress, she prepared for a quick trip into the swamp. She'd have to be barefoot, for her shoes had long since gone missing, but her satchel was intact, to hold the supplies she found. She licked her lips, breathed deeply once more of her King's scent and the air of his cave, and slipped away to the surface. The light from the sun was bright and warm, and feeling it on her face stunned Ciara for a moment. She wondered if somehow, in the intervening days, the world had gotten brighter again instead of continuing towards the darkness of winter. She breathed deeply; while the aroma of the swamp had a foulness of its own, it was still welcome to get a breath of air from a place where the air was not heavy with the musk of the King and the scent of their sex. She took a few light steps, enjoying the feeing of the mud between her toes, and spread her arms into the warmth of the late-day sun. She laughed, feeling wonderfully free, to be out of the cave. A pang of guilt passed through her, but she shook her head. While she would not leave her King's side, she had to admit that the cavern he dwelled in was made for his kind, not hers. She could not begrudge herself the occasional feeling of open spaces and clean air. Well, cleaner. It was still a swamp. With a sigh, Ciara adjusted the satchel on her shoulder and started on her way. She knew the plants she was looking for: love-in-idleness, a maiden's lily, and sweet raspberries. Oh, and a peach, if she found a tree for such. She would also keep an eye and ear out for the plump, striped body or gentle buzzing of a honeybee, and follow it back to the hive. She'd gathered honey often enough that she knew to light a fire from green grasses and fresh branches, for the smoke would render the bees sleepy enough to give her an opportunity to gather their nectar for herself. As she walked about, Ciara found she was smiling to herself and only just barely kept herself from humming. Tracking a fuzzy honeybee back to its hive proved to be as easy as she'd hoped, and lighting a fire that gave off ample white smoke was simple enough. Minutes later, her jar was again full of honey while and her satchel had been filled with flowering plants. While a little wine would not have gone amiss, she had everything she needed. She'd gathered everything just in time, for the sun was descending and the shadows growing longer. She straightened, looked about, and determined to make her way back to her King's lair. It was only then that Ciara realized she was not entirely sure which direction the King's lair would be from here. She looked about, realizing that the dimming light had blended and muted the colors and rendered the landmarks less distinct. She was lost. She considered calling out for the King, getting him to help her find her way back. She wasn't sure he would be awake, or be pleased to find her out wandering about. She bit her lip, and considered her options. Wandering barefoot through the swamp in the darkness didn't seem like a good choice, but other options had yet to present themselves. She sighed, and tapped her fingers on the satchel, and murmured her uncertainty to herself. Taking a deep breath, she called out, "King?" Ciara hesitated a moment, and at first, only silence answered her; not true quiet, for it was filled with the hum of insects, the sound of running water, and the quiet creak the trees and grasses made as they feasted on the waters of the swamp. So, noise, not silence. But certainly no response, either. Ciara drew a deep breath, as she felt her heartbeat beginning to quicken and her face to flush. She'd somehow become lost. Somewhere in this swamp was the lair of the King, but now she had no idea where that might be. She wasn't sure if this would be a breach of their unspoken agreement. She wasn't sure if he was awake, or asleep, and wasn't sure if he would come looking for her or not. Or perhaps he'd simply fly straight away to the village and take... "My Liege!" Ciara called out, louder. Her voice waivered, with an edge, and she bit her lip immediately after hearing it. She walked across the clearing and hesitated again at the tree line. Calling into the trees, she repeated, in a speaking tone, "My Liege?" Ciara licked her lips again, and stepped cautiously forward. As she did, from behind her, she heard a guttural rumbling sound, a feral sound, as if some immense ... She looked back over her shoulder, and saw a large shape making its way through the undergrowth. She saw the shadow of a pair of wings, half-folded, and a widened tail curling from its back. She sighed in relief. "My King! I went to get some ..." Her voice froze in her throat. Whatever shadow it was in those bushes, it was not her King. The shadow moved out of the bushes, and became a shape. As its' forepaw came to rest on the ground, Ciara could see that the paw was wide, as wide as a dinner plate. Instead of scales like her King, there was instead dark tan fur, and rising above the paw was a massive, barrel-sized chest, with a triangle of white fur. Further above, a mane of dark chestnut surrounded a terrible face. It had the bearing of a man, in that it had eyes and a chin and cheeks and a forehead, but it also had the split lip and upturned nose of a great cat. It also bared teeth, terrible teeth, and bore a set of whiskers which resembled a mustache and beard, which swept out to merge with the wide, dark mane. The creature's tongue lapped at its teeth, and it flexed its paw to reveal long and sinister claws. Whatever this beast was, it was surely not her King. Ciara turned to face the creature, holding her arm out in front of herself, and setting her back to a thick tree behind her. "Woah..." she said, quietly, waving downwards with her hand. This creature, whatever it was, was immense; while not as large as the King of the Forest, it was nonetheless much bigger than Ciara herself, being slightly taller to the shoulder and heavier in build than a workhorse. Its' body was that of a great feline, and resembled stories Ciara had heard of from other lands of great predatory cats. From the beast's shoulder blades, a pair of wings extended; they were not wholly unlike the wings of her lover, but lacked his grace or quality, with the edge of them seeming to lie in tatters, and the forward edge coming to a sharpened tip. It was a lion, Ciara thought. A gargantuan lion, with ... with the face of a man. She swallowed, straining to believe what she saw, and not to panic. The great cat's eyes narrowed, and it continued half a step forward, producing a low, rumbling growl that sent a shiver up Ciara's spine, setting her hair on end. "Woah." Ciara repeated. Her eyes searched the ground for something she could use as even the most makeshift of weapons; a club, a staff or preferably a spear. There were roots, mosses, branches ... but none seemed suitable to protect against the oncoming monstrosity for even a moment. "Food." A deep, rumbling voiceinterrupting Ciara's thoughts. Her eyes blinked, and she stared at the creature. It ran a wide, barbed tongue ran over its lips, and it spoke again, repeating "Food." "Uhm.", Ciara responded, surprised and all the more afraid for the fact that the creature could apparently speak. "No ... I'm ... not food. No, no. Uhm. Cook? Cook food? I could ... prepare you..." The beast sniffed at the air, and curled its' lips. "Breed.", it said, and then nodded. "Breed." Ciara felt her blood run cold. "Oh, no. No, no no. I ... don't breed. No breeding. I'm ... already ... the King, and I..." "No!", the monster snarled. "No. No King. I am King." It curled its lips to show a maw of curved, pointed teeth. Ciara swallowed. "We breed." The beast stepped further out from the undergrowth, far enough that Ciara could make out a wide, curling tail that swept up in an arc above the creature's own height. The tail was covered in plates, making it seem that it was the tail of an insect. The tail came to a sharp, curved tip, an obvious stinger which flexed up and down repeatedly. The beast gave forth an unsettling snarl and then advanced another step. "We breed", the creature repeated as it spread the stance of its back legs. Ciara tried very hard not to look. She was willing to make assumptions about what was menacing her from between the creature's hind legs and did not want to accidentally have them confirmed. She tried to maintain eye contact with the cat-creature, but Ciara couldn't help but glance up occasionally to see the menacing stinger that threatened from above. "Uhm ... no.", Ciara answered forcefully, trying to banish any hesitation from her speech. "No, we definitely do not. I ... I am Queen to the King of the Forest. I ... I don't think we could, uh, breed, anyway ..." "Me male. You not. We breed.", the creature said, running his paw along the dirt, claws tearing open a tree branch. "Then eat. Helps flavor." The beast widened the stance of its forepaws, and leaned down, into a position Ciara could recognize from the barn cats around the village. It was preparing to pounce. Ciara lowered herself to the ground, bending at the knee while leaning slightly forward. The best thing available to her was a three-foot section of a willow limb, likely too flexible to provide a useful weapon. As she descended, she murmured, letting herself sob lightly, "No, no no, no...", as muttered, trying to reassure herself and taunt her attacking into striking while she extended her hand slowly enough to avoid notice. The beast leapt forward. Its great size belied its terrible speed, and it covered the eight paces between itself and Ciara with a single bound. Ciara seized her chance, tucking herself down and rolling forward, grasping the willow branch, and getting under the pounce, between the creature's last legs. The feline continued its arc over Ciara's head, and its thick paw sliced through the air behind Ciara's head. Ciara continued into her roll, setting her feet to quickly pull herself up to standing, quickly turning as she thrust the end of her newly-discovered makeshift spear at her opponent. The creature found its footing quickly, and circled around Ciara in a few quick steps, snarled at Ciara from the other side of the clearing while she now stood closer to the middle. She set her face, trying to glower back at the creature with a face as menacing and resolved as its own. "Back off!" she snarled, thrusting forward with the branch. She widened her stance, trying to be ready for the creature to pounce. In response to Ciara's taunt the beast raised a paw that brandished its curved claws again and releasing a feral snarl. "Mine!" snarled the creature, before letting out a bellow. Ciara narrowed her eyes to protect from the rush of hot, rancid air and the spray of the creature's spittle. Ciara bit her lip. In a sense, she was fortunate to be so stressed, as it was keeping her from crying or simply collapsing. Summoning her reserves, she cried out, "I am not yours!", waiving the spear again. "I am the Queen of this forest, bride to the King, and I am not yours!" The beast hesitated, and its tail flexed. Ciara glanced to her side, judging the distance out of the clearing. She began side-stepping, bit by bit, being cautious to stay facing the beast. The creature snarled, and took a half-step towards her; she countered by raising her weapon a few inches and taking a half-step forward herself. She breathed heavily, flaring her nostrils as she forced the creature into a partial retreat. She had her moment of advantage, and had no choice but to press it. Taking a deep breath, she bolted for the edge of the clearing, and ducked behind a thick tree. From behind her, she heard a solid whump, and felt splinters of wood connecting with her shoulder. Again she ducked, rolling between and beneath a pair of bushes, to come up on the far side and head to her left, to the east; the most general direction to the King's lair that she could recall. She heard the bushes rustle behind her as the enormous creature pursued her. Doggedly, she hopped over a log, and around another thick tree, but just moments later she heard the log burst open. She leapt a root, then deked to the right to avoid being swatted by the beast's paw. She set her foot on another of the roots and heaved, throwing herself into the air by enough to grasp an overhead tree limb, only to use the momentum to throw herself another few feet forward. She landed on her feet, and pressed forward again, tucking into a half-leap. She misjudged her landing, though, and stumbled, failing to find her footing and crashing to the ground, landing on her stomach. The wind was knocked out of her; clumsily, she struggled to pull herself up to continue, her hands slipping in the mud. She pressed, desperate to stand, to flee, but a great pressure on her back pushed her chest back down into the mud. Ciara gasped and tried to take a deep breath of air, twisting the makeshift spear in her hands and flailing with in in an attempt to force the beast off of her back. The spear was too long for Ciara to wield, and she felt it thump ineffectively off the creature's forelegs. From above her, she heard a menacing snarl that broke into a chuckle. "I have you.", said the sinister purr above her. Above the paw, Ciara felt five sharp points press through her clothing, and into her flesh. A low growl came from the creature, and she felt it lower more of its weight onto her, and she sank into the mud. The beast lowered its head to take a deep breath from just over her head, gathering the smell her. "I take you from King. I take you." Ciara felt something probe at the hem of her skirt. Tears stung against her eyes and she felt her feet thrash. Ciara tried to scream, but didn't have enough air in her lungs to force out a noise. With a low whimper, she felt her consciousness start to waiver, and her grasp on the spear weakened. As her vision began to cloud over, she tried one last time to gasp, to struggle, to resist, only to hear herself quietly whisper, "My King..." into the mud, before sobbing. A massive whump sound relieved the heavy pressure on Ciara, and sprung her back to consciousness. Her head jerked up as she gasped, allowing her lungs to recover their pressure. Far to her left there was a tremendous crashing sound as if some great object had been hefted into the trees. When she looked, her suspicions were confirmed; twelve yards from her, the beast was righting itself among toppled trees. A bellow, primal and fierce, sounded to her right; the trees trembled, and she felt the wind whip around her, and she could not help but smirk as she turned her head. Mere feet from her, the King of the Forest settled into a landing, rearing up with his wings spread wide and his tail held aloft and threatening. He shifted, only so much, and his left foreleg came down on her far side, so that she was beneath him and protected by his body. "Did the manticore harm you, my Queen?" the King asked, before letting loose a hiss, directed at the creature that stared at them from the trees. She coughed, and wiped the mud and blood from her face. "Not ... no. No, it..." "Be certain." He commanded. "Their sting is fatal. No tingling? No burning sensation, in your buttocks or legs?" He still did not look at her, instead keeping his gazed fixed on the manticore some dozen yards distant. She shook her head. "No. No. He didn't mean to ... to eat me, first. He wanted to, uhm ..." Her voice caught for a moment as she hesitated to specify what the creature had planned to do with her before making a meal from her body. The message, though, had obviously been conveyed; the King lowered his torso, spreading his forelimbs, while tensing his powerful haunches. His wings tucked up, back, and away, no longer spread. He was carefully minimizing the facing that he presented to the threat, and preparing to strike. Queen to the Dragon King Pt. 02 "Well." The King said, a calm fury hanging in his voice. "Let me dispatch this ... annoyance, and then we'll return you to where you belong." With a roar, the manticore answered the King's challenge and pounced, again. The King leaned his body back and away, reaching up with his powerful right forelimb to clobber the manticore in the middle of its pounce. Even as scale caught fur, the manticore's claws raked across the lower part of the King's forearm, and Ciara heard herself shriek as she saw black-green ichor ooze from the fresh wounds. The manticore had not struck the first blow; that was the King's privilege. But it had drawn first blood. Even with his forearm injured, the King was able to use his left limb to pin the manticore to the ground. Ciara saw the creature kick out with its hind legs, targeting the King's injured arm and raking like an immense housecat. Black-green ichor sprayed as the King's arm bled and the King hissed, making a noise that sounded like a furious cat partnered with a dangerous serpent. The King struck out towards the manticore with his powerful jaws, but the manticore's dangerous scorpion tail waved through the air, and the King dared not get close enough to allow it to strike. Despite having his foe pinned, the King's position was now one of disadvantage. With a snarl, he pressed the talons of the paw pinning the manticore into the creature's sides before flinging it some twenty yards to his right, where it landed with a satisfying crunch. As the manticore fought to right itself, Ciara skittered out from under her King to seek cover behind a sturdy boulder, biting her lip to keep from crying out. Glancing back, she could tell the King was favoring his right paw. The manticore's claws had raked along the forearm often enough that it was slick with the green-tinged dark substance that was oozing from the wounds. Ciara's breath was hot and hard, and she felt tears stinging her eyes; Ciara cast about, both furious with the manticore and overcome with a need to help her King, yet powerless compared to the fury of the two combatants. The manticore was already limping, his hind quarters dragging as much as they walked, yet he tried to pace in a circle around the King, preparing to test his defenses. The King sat with his right paw raised to keep pressure off it, as his jaws hung partly open, displaying his array of teeth, each as long and sharp as a sword. The King's tail twitched back and forth like that of an irritated cat, one who was planning some savage revenge. The manticore's tail was raised high, as sought an opportunity to bring its most powerful weapon to bear. The two titans glared at each other over the space of several breaths, and Ciara thought the tension might cause her heart to explode. Just when she could take no more, the manticore lunged forward again, and she shrieked, startled by how fast the terrible cat could move. Even quick as lightning, it was not too fast for the King of the Forest to respond. With a rocking of his hips, the King lashed out with his tail, using it as a massive flail. Ciara heard a sickening crunch as the mace-like tail made forceful contact with the King's opponent mid-leap, directing the creature's momentum down and away. The manticore's landing created a deafing crunch, as it lay, for a fraction of a moment, half -buried in mud, and Ciara felt a glimmer of hope that it was dead and the fight concluded. The King seized on the opportunity, and surged forward... ...only to find that the manticore's reflexes were even faster, as it sprang up and clear of the King's pounce, forcing the King to catch himself on his injured paw. A spray of black ichor and a snarl of pain tore free from the King of the Forest. With the same lightning speed, the manticore's tail surged forward, its stinger filled with deadly venom and eager to rot the King from the inside. Ciara heard a voice, ragged and desperate, shriek, "NO!" as she saw the stinger slam into her King's chest, heavy and hard, and it took her a moment to realize it had been her own. She covered her mouth with both hands and stared with wide-eyed horror as the sinister barb on the manticore's tail pressed against the King's chest, and she saw the venom-sacs along the spine's side press and empty. She felt her knees grow weak beneath her. She had seen her King brought low, and now, she would be forced to first watch her lover die. Then, she would be made mate and meal to the savage manticore. Yet her King was accepting his apparent loss rather well. A sound almost like a laugh had begun to flow from him, a low noise, deep and menacing, and accompanying it, a hissing sound, like a bellows with a pinhole slowly filling. After this continued for the space of three breaths, Ciara heard a voice, deep and loud enough to fill the clearing, resolute and terrible. "Queen. Down.", the King commanded. Ciara obeyed. Diving to the ground, Ciara caught of glimpse of what was to transpire; the King's mouth opened wide, wider that she had ever seen, and he moved his tongue aside, making way for some other organ, whose tip bore a hole and whose menacing purpose was immediately obvious. Even as Ciara buried herself in the mud, she felt the corners of her lips twist into a smirk. Her lover was done playing with this kitten, and it was time to end the game. The searing flames poured out like a geyser; the force of the flow was enough to make the manticore buckle, then stumble, forced back and away from the King. The torrent of flame continued, seemingly endless, and Ciara saw the manticore's hide simply melt away, charring to ash and blowing away in the inferno's onslaught, revealing flesh, then bone, then viscera, the relentless burning of the King's terrible breath weapon enough to threaten the manticore's remains with nothing less than obliteration. A gurgling cry came from the sodden, scorched remains, and Ciara imagined it to be one last attempt at defiance or challenge as the manticore realized the grim truth; that it had stirred it's better to anger, and been made to pay for the crime with its life. A momentary silence hung over the clearing, the powerful scent of charred flesh hanging in the air. The King was triumphant, but Ciara could tell he was not unharmed. The stinger's impact with his chest had left a round mark as big around as a man's fist, and it was coated with a milky red liquid. The King shifted back and forth from paw to paw, his head held up, and though her concern for his well-being Ciara could not help but be reminded of the pride of a housecat, having triumphantly presented his prize. As Ciara cautiously approached, he licked at his lips, and nodded slightly to her. "My King..." she began, feeling a smile spread across her lips. "... thank you. I appreciate your rescuing me. That ... that..." "Manticore." The King stated, filling in the creature's name for Ciara. "It was a manticore. You are sure you are well, little Queen?" Little Queen was not a name Ciara had been called before, and hearing it helped to broaden her smile. "I am, my King. Again, many thanks." She bit her lip, and looked her King up and down. "My concern, though, is for you, my liege. That thing, that ... manticore. His claws, they ... your arm, it must be so painful..." The King's eyes narrowed slightly as he winced. He adjusted his stance, taking his weight off his right foreleg. The long wounds continued to slowly ooze the green-black ichor, and Ciara advanced towards it, her hands outstretched. "It's nothing." The King responded, his tone dismissive. "Don't concern yourself with ..." "It's most certainly not nothing." Ciara said, her tone edging on angry. "It's bleeding." She reached out, and touched the limb; the blood was viscous, and had coated King's the lower leg. "We'll need clean water. Can you fly back to the lair? If you show me the way, I can meet you there, over land." With a harrumph sound, the King extended his left forearm, and wrapped his paw about Ciara. He spread his wings behind him, fanning out as if to catch the last rays of the sun. Then, with a single beat of his expansive leather wings, the King soared into the air. The ground hurtled away beneath Ciara, and she found herself breathless, her mouth agape, watching her whole world, forest, swamp, and dale, extending out around her. She could see the edge of the village, and for a moment thought she might even have seen her old home. For a moment, Ciara found herself weightless and flying free. Then, the King coiled through the air, twisting himself, tucking, arching and then diving. Ciara let out a scream of terror intermixed with a shriek of pleasure as she felt the acceleration of the King dive pulse through her body... ...and then they were home. The King set her upon the stones that made up the floor of his lair. She felt wobbly and weak-kneed. As she recovered her balance, she quietly took an extra moment to celebrate having accomplished one more childhood dream: she had finally flown through the air with a dragon. After a moment to celebrate, Ciara drew a deep breath and headed for the basin of clear water. "Bring your leg over here." She said, as she removed her dress, lowering it into the water to let it soak. "Do you have any other cloth, at all?" The King made a chuffing sound, as if irritated. "There are some tabards. They're gathered ... there, to the back of the cave." He lowered himself down onto his hind knees, and hung his foreleg out over the basin. Skyclad, Ciara trotted on the tips of her toes past the piles of treasure that made up her lover's bed, continuing into a section of the cave she had previously been forbidden to enter. Here, chests were piled clumsily, almost haphazardly, and she looked back and forth between them. As she considered, the King's voice called to her, "The green chest, in the back." Opening the chest he indicated, Ciara was able to retrieve the tabards. There were six, each three feet wide by four feet in length, sewn of thick cotton. She pulled out three of them, and carried them over to the basin. She knelt beside her King, leaning her body into his chest slightly as she ran her hand along his side, before sighing, and dipping one of the tabard's corners into the clear pond. Daubing the wet cloth at the edge of the King's wound, and wincing slightly to herself, Ciara quietly murmured, "Thank you." The King did not respond with words, instead chuffing again, almost an impatient or irritated huff. After a moment, he said, "You are mine. He had no right or privilege to you." Ciara felt her heart sink a little, and nodded. "He ... had no right to take your things." She ran water over the wound again, washing away the blood. The King nodded, and his lip twitched. Ciara watched his face for a moment, and he chuffed again. "Well.", the King said, hesitantly. Ciara dipped the tabard in the water again, and then wrung it out over the King's forelimb, letting the water flow down. "Well?" she asked. "You are mine." the King repeated. "You are my Queen. I would not ... ... You are mine. I wouldn't ... he was not ..." The King stumbled for words. Ciara blinked, and rubbed at his foreleg with the cloth. "I ... am yours? Like ... as a ..." "As my ... Queen. Queen, to the King of the Forest." the King interjected. "You are my Queen." Ciara stared up at her King's face, and he stared down towards her. Carefully, she stood, setting her left hand on her King's chest, while continuing to peer up at his face. She stepped up onto his hind leg, balancing on his thigh, as she stroked along the underside of his neck with her right hand. Quietly, she murmured, "I am your Queen." Gradually, as she stroked at her King, a deep rumbling sound began to make its way out of his throat, a pleased sound that reminded Ciara of the purring of a cat. As Ciara stroked at King's neck, she felt a strong, sinewy limb press itself against the base of her spine, then gradually stroke up her back. She reached back, setting her hand on the King's powerful tail, and pulling it slightly towards her, so that she could feel its thick and steady length running along her spine. Ciara's body arched, and she felt a delightful tingle move up and down her spine; a wonderful, electric excitement. She could feel the great heat of the King's body as she pressed her chest into his. For a moment, she rested her head against him, enjoying his firmness and size. She pressed her lips against his scales, and heard the King release a low growl in response. The edge of the King's tail was about as big around as a sturdy axe-handle, and was covered in bumps and ridges. The King was rubbing it back and forth across Ciara's shoulders, pressing against her and pressing her against his body. Ciara reveled in the massage, and she could feel it releasing the tension of the earlier excitement, letting her relax her body. She ran her hands over and around her King's chest, reveling in the feeling of exploring him. She ran her fingers along the textured edge of his scales, feeling their roughness against her hand when she stroked against them, as compared to their silky-smoothness when she stroked downwards. She pressed her lips against the King's chest, again. He was as hot as a hot mug of coffee, and smooth and hard as a marble countertop, but Ciara knew from experience that he could feel her lips through his scales. The King would feel her lips, and between them, the tip of her tongue; she knew he would feel her fingernails as she traced them along his armor, and that they would tickle, just a little, producing a wonderful heightened awareness, just as they would for a more ... mundane lover. Ciara felt the twin forks of the King's tongue tracing across the back of her neck. His tongue came to points, each one flexible in its rigidity and size. For now they were soft as pillows, and as big around as a human thumb, as they traced over the skin of her neck and shoulders. She murmured and nestled even more snugly into the King's chest. While he pressed Ciara to him with his tail, the King of the Forest rolled until he was on his back, putting his legs in the air. He curled his forepaw - the left one, which lacking a bandage - around Ciara, holding her against his body. The King's size and strength were reassuring, and Ciara felt secure and safe in his arms. The King's tongue worked its way along her back, and it was like a hand stroking up, then downward, slowly but steadily making downward progress. The tongue hesitated for a longer moment as it ran along the small of her back, and he moved it up and down the curve there. He traced his tongue back and forth, at first only straying occasionally lower to run along the curve of her buttocks. He eventually encompassed them as well, obviously enjoying their roundness and their soft arches. Ciara parted her legs as he rubbed. Feeling the wonderful warmth of the King against her, with his tail continuing its indulgent rub-down of her shoulders and his tongue so wonderfully stroking at her back had set Ciara's nerves tingling, and a wonderful readiness had begun to swell her sex. She could tell that her womanhood was be glistening and she would have had to try very hard to have kept her legs together. She didn't bother, for parting them rested her mound against one of the edges of the King's scales, and if she rocked her hips just so, it let her rub herself against her King, sending wonderful sparks out across her body. The two tines of the King's forked tongue traced the crease that marked where Ciara's buttocks became her thighs. The tips of the King's tongue were as graceful as fingers. The King used his tongue to softly trace and play along Ciara's skin. Ciara contracted and relaxed her hips in order to rub herself and her damp center against the King's scales as she felt a wonderful tingling excitement building up inside her. Inquisitively, the King's forked tongue tested along the edges of Ciara's sex, and she heard herself moan. Her mouth hung open, and the teasing pleasure of the King's explorations drove Ciara to rake her fingernails fiercely down his scales, and in response he growled in pleasure. The King's tongue twirled around Ciara's womanhood, sending her juices swirling and gathering as they coated the tip of one of the tongue's tines. With the tip thoroughly coated, the King shifted the tongue to not swirl around her moistened sex, but instead to press up and down against her soft lips. Ciara's moistness made the tongue slip up and down her hot slit like silk, and the wonderful ridges the taste buds formed on her King's tongue made for a delightful sensation. Ciara rocked with her hips, rutting the mound atop her womanhood against the edge of her King's scales, and she felt her thighs shudder from the pressure that was building up within her. When the King's tongue paused its up-and-down stroking, she heard herself whimper like a hound that was desperate for affection. She felt herself flush crimson with embarrassment matched with arousal, and she wiggled her hips back slightly to tempt the King's tongue into more activity. To her great pleasure, Ciara's efforts succeeded. The barest tip of her King's tongue pushed against her opening and she felt herself throb on the inside, desperate to feel some length of him within her. She nodded her head frantically, and made another mewling sound, and ... ... and her King was inside her. His tongue pushed in, no more than a half-inch at first, but gradually more. While the King's tongue pressed into her depths, Ciara felt it thicken. As it pressed on, pushing nearly three inches into her moist sex, the tongue swelled to the girth of a thick spoon, as it tested the pliability of her womanhood, working to determine if Ciara would stretch further. Ciara bit her lip and moaned as she arched into her King's tongue so that he penetrated her more deeply. Her hands reached back and she set them on her hips, so that Ciara could push at herself, flattening her palms against her pelvis and straining herself down onto her King's wonderful tongue-cock. Ciara moaned "My Liege!", as arched and stretched. She pushing herself down as the muscles of her pussy pulsed and pulled, hot, wet and eager for as much of the King's tongue as Ciara could have. Ciara wiggled her hips to press the tongue against her flesh, and an electrifying ripple moved along her pussy in response. Ciara could feel her thighs tremble as her climax was almost upon her. Ciara curled her fingers around her buttocks and spread herself, presenting more of herself to her King for his use and pleasure. She heard her voice echo in her ears, moaning and whimpering. "Please, please.", she panted. "Let me cum. Please, my King - fuck me. Please let me c... ...cum..." At first, the King seemed to become all the more cruel, withdrawing his tongue from inside her, and she heard herself let loose a frustrated groan, shuddering as she barely held in a shriek of desperation. Just before Ciara felt the King slip entirely from her, his tongue abruptly flexed, filling to be nearly two inches in diameter while it forced its way deep into Ciara, prying her open, bouncing off her cervix and sending her climax ripping through her. A violent shriek tore out of Ciara's throat as she pushed herself back with her knees, pressing her King's wonderful tongue still deeper into her. Fire and lightning tore up and down her muscles as she pressed her thighs down against the King. Her lubrication seeped from her slit, trailing along her King's scales and making them glisten as the lightning in her limbs caused her hands to squeeze her buttocks more tightly and the fire made her pussy pulse. Slowly Ciara's scream came to an end, slowly quieting itself to a warble, and ending with a whimper ... and then, a gentle laugh. Queen to the Dragon King Pt. 02 "Oh, oh, wow." She murmured. "Oh, God, my King ... that ... oh, God." Ciara sighed, and giggled again, her pussy pulsing and squeezing as her generous King slowly withdrew his tongue from her eager sex as he allowed it to shrink down. Below her, deep rumbling emanated from within her King's chest, a purring sound that Ciara had come to understand represented his pleasure and satisfaction. Ciara stretched and wrapped her arms around her King's sides. She turned her head so that the other side lay against the King's warm scales, and glanced down to the pool off to the side of them. There her dress half-floating in the water, alongside the two unused tabards sitting on the stones, and her leather satchel ... ... her leather satchel, containing the ingredients to the potion that so intoxicated her lover, that made her supple and vulnerable body so desirable to him. The fresh ingredients that she had gathered were still in her satchel. There, unprepared and unused, in her satchel. She had not consumed the potion in hours. The King in the Forest had not ... "You will still need some", the King murmured quietly. "Your body will still ... benefit from the potion helping you ... adapt." Ciara's mouth opened and closed, twice. She tried to wrap her mind around the idea of what was happening to her. The potion ... it was the potion that made her irresistible to the King of the Forest. It was the potion that made him want her, that made him seek pleasure from her body, made her sexually desirable to him and made him crave her ... wasn't it...? "My Queen?" the King said again, his voice becoming just a touch firmer. "You will make the potion. I ... I need you to make it. Quickly." he added, sounding a little strained. Ciara looked up to her King's face, so that her eyes met his insistent gaze. She blinked, slowly, and then slowly turned her head to look down the King's supine body. His erect cock, which was full and already twitching, was at alert just below where she rested. Ciara found her mouth dry; as she licked her lips, her King's cock throbbed in response. She let herself slowly slip off of her King's side, gently coming to stand on her tip-toes on the ground, still rubbing her body against the King's. Ciara quickly crossed to the side of the basin on the tips of her toes and knelt to pull the things she would need from her satchel. With mortar, pestle and her wooden whisk, she hastened to prepare her brew. The King rolled over so that he was upright again and crawled slowly towards Ciara as she worked; it was just as she finished crushing the love-in-idleness into a paste that she heard a rumble from the King's chest and felt his thick, firm but slightly spongy member press against her back. The King ran it, softly but a touch insistently, up and down along the middle of her back while his claws raked across the stones Ciara smirked and bit her lip to keep herself from chuckling as she continued her work. The King adjusted his position, and his member, thicker than Ciara's arm, slowly slid out from between her legs as she worked. Even as she folded the pulped petals of the lily into the honey, she felt the thickness of the King's cock pressing against her slit. Ciara adjusted her footing to allow her wet sex to slide herself up and down along her King's length, so that she could press her mound against the rigid shaft. As she stirred her hips, a moan escaped her lips, as her eagerness to be taken again by her King build. As she put the finishing touches on her brew, she found herself wondering why she thought her King would still need the potion to want her. She no longer required a potion to feed her lusts for him. The potion finally ready, Ciara paused to run a hand along her lover's thick cock, and admire its length as it projected forward from between her legs, glistening with her juices and trembling with eagerness. She lightly traced her fingernails along it, to enjoy its fleshy texture and take a moment to revel in the deep growl that came from above and behind her as she teased her King. She bent, half over, to press her lips against his shaft, and then, to lick; the potion's seductive qualities were such that just the smell of it heightened her arousal and desire, and she knew it would be the same for her liege. She wanted to have him trembling and fit to burst before he had the opportunity to take her; she wanted to make sure they both remembered this night. "Drink the potion." The King commanded with his voice a half-snarl. "Drink it, so that I can have you." He moved his paw, setting it closer to where she straddled him as he raked his claws across the stones. "Drink." Ciara felt herself smirk as she enjoyed the transitory moment of power over her indomitable sex partner. She licked further along his length, coming closer to the glans while she rocked her hips to rub her dripping slit and swollen mound against his shaft, nearer to his cock's base. "But, my Liege ... I'm desperate for a drink." Ciara murmured, her lips rubbing against his shaft as she spoke. "Couldn't I have just a sip, before you spend the rest all inside me?" The King's cock throbbed between Ciara's legs, hot, full and eager. She could see the head swell, a brilliant purple in hue, as Ciara kissed along his length. She pressed her lips to the King's flesh, as she ran her fingernails along the bottom of his shaft. She could feel a thick vein there, and she inhaled deeply to enjoy his musky scent. She leaned forward into a four-legged stance, with the cock stretching up from between her legs, all the way to her neck. She murmured, running her tongue along the base of the cock's head again, lapping and licking at her prize as she wrapped her hand around the underside of the shaft. Ciara stroked with her tongue as she ran her fingers up and down, fingers dancing back and forth, tickling and teasing as much of the shaft as she could. Above her, she heard the King chuff, and let out a small growl. The King raised a paw, and then dropped it with a thunderous crash and a low rumble. "Enough teasing!" he snarled, his baritone voice charged with frustration. She kissed the spongy-soft head of his cock and smirked as she said, "I agree", and reached for her magical brew. The glass jar she had used to brew it in felt firm and coo, and the honey was sweet as it coated her throat. There was a wonderful tingle that accompanied the drink, just as there had been each time before; a sensation of warmth and eagerness that quickly swept through her. Ciara shuddered in pleasure as she enjoying the sensation. From behind her, she heard her King issue forth a low purr, as the magic of the potion ensured that the same sensation washed over him. From beneath Ciara and between her legs, she could feel her King's cock shudder. He adjusted himself, and began to pull his cock back towards him, drawing it deliberately through her lips and along her mound. The King's cock trembled with the anticipation of mounting Ciara. She panted, feeling her thighs tremble as he pulled his head back to rest it between her sex's moist and eager lips. Ciara bit down, bracing for the wonderful pleasure that would come when her King's shaft entered her. She leaned herself forward until she was on hands and knees, and set her palms to the ground. She crawled forward so that her upper body lay against the stones. Prostrate before her King, she felt a crackling of metaphorical electricity in the air, their bodies eager to be joined. The King set the heavy head of his cock against Ciara's slick opening, and she heard herself whimper slightly, anticipating the sensation of her King splitting her wide with his shaft. Unexpectedly, she felt a weight press into her whole back, resting carefully, obviously both heavy and strong enough to crush her. Beside her head, Ciara heard a sound like metal striking stone, as one of the tips of her King's claws set upon the stone floor beside her. Her King had set his paw upon her back, to hold her in place and brace her to receive him. There was another clink of claw to stone, as the King set a second claw on the opposite side of Ciara, locking her body into position. The King's head surged, covering over her moist opening entirely. The curve of the cock's head caused it to protrude inside Ciara, and she felt herself gush at just the pressure of it; her fluids sought to coat his shaft to aid it's journey. Holding Ciara in place, her King pressed himself forward. The pressure was steady and intense; he pressed in slowly but persistently, and Ciara felt waves of pain and pleasure chase through her, originating from the King's cock-head as it pushed into her depths. Her womanhood throbbed, tightening and contracting around the King's heavy member, even as it strained to stretch her muscles past their limit, as she felt her body drawing on the magic of the potion to accommodate his size. The King continued to push until he was deep inside her, and his cocks' tip strained to go even deeper. Ciara would not have had it any other way. Then, he stopped. Ciara heard her voice cry out, a whine of disappointment as the King's advance abruptly ceased continuing forward; she tried to rock her hips, as her pussy cried out for the relief the King's climax, or her own, would bring. Struggle as she might, though, the King's firm hand pressing down prevented much motion. "Please ... please, my Liege. There's so much more. I ... I can take it! Let me take it? Push it all in ... Let me have it." Ciara whimpered. She had grown accustomed to the wonderful fullness that came with having the King's full shaft inside her. She doubted any other man would ever satisfy her now. All her body ached, longing to feel the King pressed as deeply into her as he had been in the past. As Ciara was about to beg again, the King pressed down on her shoulders with the pads of his digits, forcefully sliding Ciara's body back across the stone floor, raking Ciara's knees across the floor. Ciara howled out a mixture of pleasure and pain as her King's firm yet yielding cock bludgeoned into her cervix. She struggled futilely, as her King held her tightly while pressing himself in still harder, ever more firmly and insistently. Ciara's movements were limited, but she reveled in the captivity as her body eagerly worked to feel her King's release. She rocked her hips to seal the head of her King's magnificent cock as tightly into her as she could. Inside her, the King's hot cock throbbed and twitched, desperate and hungry. Purring into the stones, she murmured, keeping her voice half a whisper, certain her King would hear her anyway. "Cum for me, lover", she murmured, straining against his paws. "Fill up your Queen. Fill me right ..." She did not have time to finish her words. The King's climax began with a low rumble that built rapidly to a roar. The stones of the chamber shook as the King's triumphant bellow marked both Ciara and the lair as his again. Inside her, Ciara felt the King's cock open up and release his cum, thick and filling. She could feel it coat her insides, and cause her desperate pussy to contract. The tensing of the surrounding muscles pushed her over the edge and sent Ciara tumbling into a second powerful orgasm. She shuddered as her pussy contracted snugly around the King's shaft. Her King's seed squeezed out between his thick member and her tight entrance, and she felt the hot cum running down her leg. She heard the King exhale slowly and heavily, and felt his body shudder. Gradually, King raised his paw from Ciara, and she felt herself take a deep breath, suddenly realizing how long she'd been without air. The King gently adjusted his hips so that he very gradually withdrew from his Queen. Ciara felt his generous seed spill out of her, trailing down both of her thighs and pooling between her legs. She shuddered, and collapsed forward onto her stomach, exhausted. The corners of her mouth pulled upward, a pleased smirk playing across her face. She lay there, basking in the warm afterglow of their glorious sex, the King slid a talon under her shoulder, and gently turned her to her back before pulling her in, against him. Ciara perched against her lover, nestling her head on her King's neck with her feet held up by his tail. She could feel his hot and potent cum still swirling inside her, and her whole body twitched with delightful aftershocks of the treatment her King had given her. Sshe ached, too; a good ache, the ache of a good round of exercise with a full dose of adrenaline, but she did note that it was an ache that her potion had previously spared her. She reached up and stroked her King's neck, earning a reward of a steady rumble from his chest, as he slowly blinked his eyes, half-dosing. She was his Queen; the jewel of his horde, the centerpiece of his collection. Ciara would have it no other way. Queen to the Dragon King Pt. 03 The cave was dark, but the King's warmth kept it from growing cold. In the light that radiated from the central fire, Ciara could make out the shapes of the arches and supports that were throughout the cavern. For his part, the King dozed, as he did for hours at a time. It seemed that in the last few weeks, as the leaves had turned red and yellow and then fallen off, her King had started sleeping even more. The firelight cast a dancing pattern over the golden bed they curled on. When she had first come to the King's lair, she'd found that coins made a poor mattress for her, although her King could abide no other. Fortunately he did not mind having Ciara curl up atop his back or along his underside. Nowadays there was so much less light and warmth to the day and frost upon the ground in the mornings; she often slept curled just under her King's neck, where he was at his warmest, with the fire only a short distance from her. Ciara sighed. Of late, her lover slept in far later than she did, leaving her with time to fill with her books. Gingerly, Ciara climbed out from her lover's embrace and slipped into the shadows beyond the fire's light. She walked on the balls of her feet, not to keep quiet (for her lover could already hear her, she was certain; his senses missed very little) but to minimize her contact with the frigid stones. Hastily, she crossed the cavern to her makeshift bookshelf. Her King had helped her make it, carving the niches to store the books on into the walls of the cave, even though he had pouted while she re-arranged his hoard of valuables so that she could put all of the tomes in one place. The shelves and the fire pit were her only alterations to his cave, and she knew that her King had found it difficult to allow them. This effort on his part made the shelves all the more precious to Ciara. Thick tome in hand, she quickly scampered back into bed, feeling a shiver of cold pass up and down her spine. She paused for a moment to appreciate her lover; he was immense in form, and scaled; he possessed terrible claws and long, ferocious fangs, with two great, leathery wings, and a long tail. His eyes, closed right now, were as large as dinner plates. But he was also snoring, making a delightful half-grumble as he exhaled. He was savage, and feral, and she had seen him kill beasts, but he was kind with her, sharing his meals freely, praising her cooking, touching her softly, and pleasing her as a lover. He was the King of the Forest, a dragon. And she was his Queen and lover. Carefully, she repositioned herself alongside her king, snuggling into the softer scales of his underside, right along his neck. She leaned her book on his neck, and began to read. Short minutes stretched into long hours as she read. She mouthed the words she was unfamiliar with, following along with her finger in the book. It seemed an exhaustive reference on the properties of flowering plants, and their uses in magical brews, but contained no new information on the question she most needed answers to: do magical brews lose effectiveness with repeat use? Honey, a daub of wine, some blood, and Love-In-Idleness, alongside a few other herbs, combined to make her potion. When first she had drank it, some four months ago before the harvest season, it had allowed her body to please her lover; under the effects of the potion, the King of the Forest had found her irresistible, and they had mated, time and again, over hours. But over the last few weeks, the potion's effectiveness had begun to wane. A single use of the brew used to allow them congress for just over a day; now, it's effectiveness was waning to the point that a single dose might only be effective for a few hours, and once it passed, their coitus still left her aching and weak. Last time, when she had finished the potion and invited her King upon herself, she'd felt her stomach churn and barely had time to get out from under him before emptying her stomach's contents most unpleasantly, as her King's tail stroked at her back. The latest book was not instructive on the topic. Several of its recipes were themselves unclear or incomplete, or contained cautions that a user may only consume them once each rising of the moon or at high summer; others cautioned that repeated exposure might render a brew toxic or dangerous. Diminished effectiveness, however, was not mentioned. Ciara sighed in frustration. She was neither an alchemist nor a wizard. She was a farm girl who had found a brew with specific properties, and thought to use it to spare her community some pain (and to give life to a foolish girl's night-time fantasies). She absentmindedly stroked her King's neck as she became lost in thought. While she no longer needed the potion to convince her King to desire her, he was simply too ... immense for her to fully satisfy without magical aid. She sighed and reminded herself that, of all the problems in the world, finding a way to share a bed with the King of the Forest was one of the better ones to have. "No solution presents itself." The King's voice was a roiling baritone. He barely moved his mouth to speak. He could; if he was inclined to do so, he could speak quite animatedly, moving his lips, showing tooth and tongue like any other speaker. But he was also capable of speaking through his closed mouth. Whatever it was that granted the King of the Forest the power of speech, it lay in his throat, not his mouth. Ciara patted his scales, and a grand rumbling began to emanate from his chest. "No. There's nothing. I'm almost out of books." She said, sighing and pressing her lips to his scales. "There are magicians. Sorcerers, in more distant lands. We could ... ", he began, before pausing. Ciara traced at his scales with her fingers. Of course, they couldn't. Dragons, even her King, were ferocious creatures. His appetite knew no limits, and his craving for treasure could never be satiated. It was no more sensible than a mortal man suggesting he could give Ciara the moon - but no less romantic, either. Ciara shook her head. "No, no. You and I both know they would hunt you. I wouldn't subject you to that. Nor would I subject them to that", she added, with a smile. "There might be a resolution in one of the other books. And it hasn't yet stopped working, after all. It just ... passes. Too quickly." As Ciara spoke, the King raised and slowly lowered his wings to fan the fire. He shifted a claw to drop some fresh wood into the blaze. "You should bundle up.", he intoned. His wonderful baritone had a way of filling the chamber; sometimes, when the spoke at length, Ciara would lie on one of the large stones by the basin, just so she could feel it tremble slightly as the King spoke. "It will be cold outside, and still colder higher up." Ciara sighed and rolled to her feet, sorry to see the morning over so soon, but smirking in anticipation as well. With her King's help, she had prepared herself a suit for cold weather; bearskin for warmth, deerskin on the inside to be comfortable, with fox-fur trim, because she was a Queen and her King indulged her. She took the few steps to the area she had designated as her closet, and searched out her boots. "Why is that?" Ciara asked, always curious. "I thought hot air rose. And it would be closer to the sun, wouldn't it?" The King's eyes narrowed, and he considered. "I ... I'm not sure. Mountains are colder, though. Perhaps it is the further you move from the surface? The wind up there is often terrible; perhaps that plays a part. Maybe", he chuckled, "when we seek out a book on herbs and potions, we should get one about the weather. Always asking. Ever curious." Ciara smirked at him. He was clever and wise, and knew many things - far more than Ciara did. But it seemed sometimes that her King rarely troubled himself with the why of things, finding it enough to know the what. "Perhaps.", she said. "And a book on dragons, besides, one with a chapter on the best places to rub them, when they mock you!" she said, fiercely kicking her King's long tail. His responding laugh caused the floor of the cavern to shudder again; Ciara loved to hear him laugh. Fully outfitted Ciara felt bulky and heavy, but was toasty-warm. She walked alongside her King as he slinked out the front of the lair they shared. The brilliant sunlight reflecting off the snow and ice that coated the swamp around them caused Ciara to blink her eyes to adjust, as her King paused to stretch his wings and neck wide. She had brought with her a length of rope, the ends of which were looped around and knotted. Loosely, she set one end over her left shoulder, and when the King lowered himself to the ground, she set her foot on his powerful forelimb and pushed off, climbing onto his back. She reached down, and he handed the other loop up to her; she slid her arm through, and grasped the rope with both hands through her rough leather gloves. "Ready?" the King asked, his wings fanning, preparing to catch the air. "Ready!" Ciara replied, unable to conceal her excitement. The King's powerful forelegs tensed. Beneath her, even through the animal hides, Ciara felt the muscles that commanded his wings tighten and prepare, and he lifted himself on his forelimbs. Ciara leaned forward, into her King's neck, as he held his head aloft and skyward. The King of the Forest pounced at the sky, and Ciara heard herself shriek at the sudden motion. She felt her body pressed back and down, and only the strong ropes she had harnessed herself to the King with kept her seated. Her King hurled himself forward with his wings spread, catching as much of the wind as he could, and gaining altitude with the strength of his back legs. Ciara cried out again, her cheering stifled slightly by her bulky snowsuit. At the apex of his leap, her King's body began to curve downwards; Ciara felt her momentum shift, and had the wonderful sensation of her body being pulled up. Her body rose from the King's back, and for a moment, the rope was slack; for a moment, under the momentum her King's pounce had granted her, she arced up and away even as he dropped downward. For a moment, Ciara was flying. Her King beat his wings; a singular, powerful motion that caused his body to leap up. Ciara's rear end reconnected with her King's shoulders with a dull thud that she felt with her tailbone. As she tightened her ropes, and heard herself laughing; she adored those few moments of freedom, when she was sailing through the air with her King, free and truly flying. She heard, and felt, her King beneath her and between her legs, chuckling to himself and rumbling, purring and pleased at the chance to make her laugh. "That will never get old!" she screamed. With the speeds her King could maneuver at, Ciara often had to struggle to make herself heard as they flew, even with her King's heightened sense of hearing. She kicked with her heels, one then the other repeatedly, to help communicate her idea, and the King of the Forest craned his head to look back at her slightly. "Was it smooth enough? That was a solid thud, right at the end..." the King asked. His voice carried back to her easily; he said it had something to do with the direction of their motion. She squeezed with her knees once, their agreed-upon signal for 'yes'. Then she spurred him with her heels - faster, faster. She heard her King chuckle as he beat his wings twice to comply. The King of the Forest's airspeed increased, even as he arced upwards. The acceleration was not quite so rapid as last time, so that while Ciara felt her stomach race to keep up with her, she did not actually rise into the air this time. She laughed and cheered as she saw the ground fall even further away. When the King of the Forest reached the apex of his climb, he again arched his body, and she felt another weightless moment as she hovered, who knows how high above the earth, keeping company with the clouds. Ciara inhaled deeply, and felt that the air was freezing and chilled. She braced herself. The King dropped, tucking his wings into his sides and accelerating downward so rapidly that Ciara felt the breath she had been holding pressed free from her lungs. She clung to the rope, feeling her fingers grow numb from the effort and her shoulders push back against the straps holding her in position. Before her was a bay that, from a great height had seemed so small, but now that they raced downward, it was rapidly expanding, becoming so vast that from the water's center she would have been unable to see land. She screamed, reveling in the thrill of sharing this with her lover, and the King of the Forest answered her with a bellow, roaring so resoundingly that it made the air tremble. At the last moment, just before the King and his Queen hit the surface of the water, the King spread his wings and arched with his tail, changing his shape just so. Rather than plunge into the frigid waters of the bay, the pair turned and raced through the air parallel it's unbroken mirror-surface. Ciara turned to watch behind them as they soared, so that she could see the two turbulent waves that stirred in their wake. Tiny pellets of frozen water dropping back into the bay and coalescing to leave a wonderful half-frozen path across the ice following behind them. Ciara clamped her knees in to tightly clench at her King as she let the reins go for just a moment. She held her hands up in the air and could feel the wind even through her gloves. She saw the shoreline, at first a mere shadowy glimmer, rapidly taking the form of trees and rocks and sand and grasses. She brought her hand back to the reins just in time for her King to arc upward slightly, by just enough to clear the trees ... "Duck.", the King said, his voice a booming command. Ciara obeyed, burying her face against his neck. In seconds, her back was pelted by branches and brambles, and she heard the bending and snapping of tree limbs. The King, for whatever reason, had opted not to gain altitude and avoid the woods, but instead to ... Ciara heard the crunch of bone and a cry that sounded like a trumpet in pain; the noise was abruptly cut mercifully short. The King lost significant momentum, and his weight shifted, as if his left side was suddenly heavier. She heard, and felt, her King beat his wings to increase his altitude. After there was a moment's pause, Ciara lifted her head. Above the King was only blue sky and beneath them a vast green forest, but clutched in the King's left paw was a huge, dense form. The King's hunt had been a success. "Moose meat?", Ciara called, smiling. "Sounds delicious!" Her King chuffed in response, but he raised the corner of his lip just so, proud his Queen was pleased. Normally, cleaning and preparing a full moose would be a task requiring hours of work, but it was made nearly effortless by the King's help. At first he watched with fascination as Ciara prepared the body, and held his hand and talon out, allowing her to use it's razor-sharp edge as her cutting surface. He maneuvered the moose as she instructed, and ate the skull in a single bite, producing a resounding crunch that echoed through the lair. He did, however, have to foresight to spare the antlers, preferring to gnaw at them rather than consume them outright. He chewed at the horns as Ciara finished slicing the last of the meat, and prepared to smoke over the fire. "We could do with some salt, or sugar. We'll pick some up ...", she began, and hesitated. It wasn't as though she could stroll into town and buy the supplies she needed anymore; it would attract attention and questions. The King watched her, and for a moment, Ciara thought his expression softened. "There are merchant caravans that run along the North Road, eighty miles from here. I shouldn't think a merchant's wagon of baking essentials would have too great an armed escort.", he murmured, as the antlers rattled against the stone floor. "They run more in the Spring, though ... so you may have something of a wait." Ciara smiled up at her King as she walked over to the basin to wash off the blood. "I wish I could just eat anything, like you. Then we could avoid the problem altogether. We'd dine every night on moose and deer!", she laughed. He glanced up from the horns. "It'd be risky. We'd need to move southward. This domain doesn't produce enough to feed two through the winter." Ciara laughed more, soaking her lower arms. "Well, I'm somewhat smaller than you. I probably need less to eat." The dragon's eyes narrowed to study her, and she saw his translucent inner eyelid close, then open again. "... true.", he said, at length. He sat a moment, one of his taloned digits holding the antler he had been gnawing in place, while his tail flicked back and forth; Ciara felt his eyes on her, as drew off her wet clothes and climbed into the spring. When her curves had disappeared beneath the water's surface, the King rose from his game and sprightly crossed the chamber to Ciara's shelves. His manner reminded Ciara, not for the first time, of a cat struck by a sudden whimsy. She tilted her head to try to watch her King. "What are you doing?", she called after him. By way of response, his tail flicked, and he widened his wings to better block her view. Ciara giggled, but it was as much out of confusion as amusement. She swam to the side of the basin, then propped herself up as she strain to see. The sound of bottles clinking off each other carried across the room as her King did ... whatever it was he was doing. "...what are you doing back there?", Ciara asked again. She heard a light chuckle roll back in response. "Never you mind..." he responded, but moments later, he turned back towards her, holding a mug filled with her familiar potion. The King crossed the chamber towards the pool, and daintily set the mug full of the brew in front of Ciara. He lowered his head to stare at her over the brew, and she saw his back end wiggle back and forth like a feline ... either settling in, or preparing for a pounce. "Well well", she said, with a laugh, feeling her smile curl up into a smirk. "It's been a while since such a handsome man bought me a drink, m'lord." "Nothing but the finest.", her King intoned. "It's a little something I've seen the serving-staff mix up a score of times. Thought I'd try my hand at it." The King of the Forest watched Ciara as she pushed her way back off the side of the basin, leaving herself to float weightlessly. She heard her King's claws grind along the stones of the floor, and she idly propelled herself by waving her hands through the water. "I'm flattered. But a girl should be careful, my lord. Taking drinks from strange men? Could get one into all kinds of trouble.", Ciara said, feeling herself smile. She pulled herself up on the far side of the basin, leaning on her elbows so that the small of her back was at the water level, with the disturbed surface of the water splashing around her hips and her wet hair dangling down her back. She turned to look over her shoulder at her King, watching him from beneath her eyelashes and biting her lip. They both loved this game, teasing at each other; with the King of the Forest as her lover, the game kept it's suspense, because Ciara was never sure when he would grow tired of playing and simply take her in a display of his power he had. She reveled in the joy of being able to taunt and tease him; the game felt as if she were dangling a tempting steak before a great hound, only in this case Ciara herself was the steak - and her magnificent hound always won the game. Queen to the Dragon King Pt. 03 "Still ..." the King said, drawing a breath and exhaling with a quiet snarl. "It would be rude not to drink it, after I went to all that trouble." From around her King's side, Ciara saw the tip of his tail curl over the stones and into the basin, quietly slipping beneath the surface while the King kept his eyes focused on Ciara. Ciara turned in place to face her King, supporting herself on her elbows behind her back and resting her hands on her ribs beneath her breasts. "Well, that's true. I wouldn't want to be seen as rude..." Ciara said, smirking as she pushed off the side of the basin to cut through the water back towards the mug. She leaned on the side of the basin, keeping herself low in the water so that she was looking up at her King. She slipped both hands around the mug, making sure to take her time, extending the tension of their game. She lifted the mug, and pressed her lips to it's side, and she saw her King's eyes light up... ...she lowered the mug, and raised an eyebrow to him quizzically. He motioned twice with the end of his nose, encouraging her to drink, and Ciara shook her head with a laugh. "Bottoms up, then!", she said, and downed the mug. The brew was thicker than it usually was, and Ciara could feel it coating her mouth and her throat as she drank. There was a tinge of flavor she was unused to, a subtly metallic taste that blended with the sweetness of the honey. The syrupy mix adhered to her tongue as it flowed down her throat, and when it reached her stomach, it felt filling, like a mead. Ciara felt like the wonderful brew was expanding out from her stomach, moving into her body and warming her. As the drink came to an end, she immediately felt a dull crave for more, and heard herself whine just a bit as the drink ended. "...it's ... so good.", Ciara murmured. "So good. Wow. What'd you ... add to that?", she asked. She felt a wonderful sensation extending along her limbs, warming them and giving them a tingle, as though they had been asleep and were gradually waking up. "Very little." The King purred. He swept tail up from the depths of the basin, between Ciara's legs to run up along her back. She felt her legs spread, and where the King's scales touched her flesh, felt a wonderful electric frisson of excitement. "Just a slight change. Enough to adjust the potion's ... focus." As he spoke in his wonderful, resonant, baritone voice, Ciara could feel her whole body tremble with excitement. The sensation kept Ciara from focusing on her King's words; instead, she maneuvered herself in her makeshift seat, wriggling around until her King's thick tail ran directly along her sweetened sex. She pressed her legs together, as if to hold his tail steady, while she pushed her center again him, already insistently, and felt the smooth-yet-bumpy texture of his scales trace over the pearl beneath her mound. Her hands clutched around her King's tail, and she shuddered, feeling her eyes flutter as a lovely spark traced through her body. "It's ... good." Ciara murmured. She leaned down, pressing her lips against his tail, letting its considerable length and girth run along her stomach and between her breasts, even as it rubbed against her womanhood. The craving for her lover was growing within her, her body aching and ready for him to pluck; she caught herself tracing along the ridges of his tail's scales with her tongue, her hips rocking to rub herself against his serpentine tail. "Yes." The King purred, letting the word roll. He flexed his tail, sending a ripple down along it. As the tail flexed, it rubbed against Ciara's clitoris, and waves of pleasure rippled through her limbs. She felt her muscles strain, contracting and squeezing at her King's tail. She wrapped her legs around her King's thick limb and rubbed with her hips, forcefully rutting her clitoris against her King's skin. "Oh, God...", Ciara moaned. She pressed her lips against the King's tail again; the heat of her King's body crackled along her lips and down across her shoulders, then up her arms. Touching her King was electrifying, exciting, charging and thrilling, even more so than usual. She traced her hands along her King's tail, running her fingertips along their scales, feeling each ridge. The sensation of touching the King's scales always excited Ciara, for they possessed an edged texture that made his armor perfect to rub herself against. As she rubbed her fingers along the King's scales, she continued to press her rapidly moistening sex along him as well. The memories of the wonderful sensations that her King had sent rippling through her danced inside her mind, and her body ached for the sensation of his touch. She wrapped her hands around the tip of his tail, and pulled downward on it, as if it were his magnificent and virile cock. "W ... what is this potion doing?" Ciara cooed, blinking, struggling to think as she felt her mind clouding over. Her hands tingled, as though she had cut off blood flow to them and it was returning slowly. Her shoulder blades ached, as though she had spent hours lifting hay bales or using a hammer, and her legs felt as though they were straining from a great run, even as her lower torso was floating in the water. And she ached inside; her pussy was already throbbing and hungry, but more than that, she felt like it was tightening, almost ... constricting. "You are my Queen." The King of the Forest answered her. "You are my Queen, and I will have you as my Queen. You please me. This will ... continue to please me." Ciara stammered, but she felt as though the power of speech had left her. The King's tail roiled and twirled along her pulsing pussy, twisting and coiling and as Ciara twisted and turned with it. The King of the Forest lowered Ciara, letting her sink slightly into the water. She moaned again, but despite her reluctance, the King was already withdrawing his tail, pulling it free of her grasp. As the tail pirouetted down out of her reach, Ciara's arms clumsily reached out, trying to hold her head above water. She felt something solid, and wrapped her hands around it. Ciara was almost immediately able to identify it as her King's forepaw, and she wrapped her arms around it, clinging to it as though her life depended upon it. All of Ciara's muscles ached, and her fingers were clenched into knots as she wrapped both arms around the paw. Beneath the water's surface, between Ciara's trembling thighs, the very tip of the King's tail carefully stroked back and forth along and across her tender sex. Ciara's pussy felt achy and desperate to feel her King inside of her. Ciara gave a low moan, and murmured, "... press it in" with a whimper. If the King intended to fulfill her desires, he showed no immediate sign of it. Instead his tail continued to ripple against her sex, and she felt the edge of every scale as they stroked up and over her clitoris. Ciara moaned again, a low and hungry sound, only to have the King pull his tail back, drawing a whimper from Ciara's throat. Ciara's hips flexed up and down, desperate for something to rut against, feeling incomplete without her King's touch. Ciara looked up to her King's face, trying to plead for him to press inside of her, to tease her body, to touch her. She stared at her King's face, her eyes watery and desperate as the ache strained the muscles of her stomach. She felt her shoulder tremble and ache as she clung to her King's paw, and her thighs trembled; her muscles felt as though they might burst. Then the tip of her King's tail pressed itself against her. She heard herself cry out as the sensation of the touch of her King's tail sent electric excitement through Ciara. The power and pleasure of Ciara's climax strained her body, and she had the sense that the ecstasy that gripped her body was straining against some other force that was working against her. As the lightning tore up and down her back, she heard herself shriek, and realized it was not wholly of pleasure. Her back was tearing open. With her King's tail pressing into her and setting her pussy to trembling, and shudders of ecstasy pushing through her body, Ciara almost felt as though she could disregard the pain as she heard the skin on her back rip open. Her flesh felt like a garment stretched too tight, taut over too much bone and muscle, and like the eyelets on a corset that had been bound too tightly for too long it was finally giving way. Ciara's shoulders tensed, but her legs still trembled; she felt her wet slit throb and pull on the tip of her King's tail, trying to milk cum from it. Her pussy was hungry and needing, desperate to feel filled, even as she felt the skin on her back slough off into the basin. She felt her King issue a low grow; so deep was his baritone she felt her head resonate with it, and heard his claws scraping along the stone floor in pleasure. Wrapped about her King's paw, Ciara cried out; her first climax had not been enough, and had only whet her body's appetite for more. The muscles of her back tingled and strained as though she had just spent hours lifting hay bales or great rocks. Her King's tail guided Ciara to the edge of the basin, and she pulled herself up, her back complaining about the weight the entire time. She paused a moment on the cool stones of the water's edge, gathering her strength and recovering her breath. Her King stood over her, his claws skittering along the stones, his eagerness to take her obvious from his demeanor. After her rest, she pushed off the ground with her hands, pulling up to a half-kneeling posture to gaze up at her King, her knees together with her ankles crossed. Her King's eyes seemed to dance in the gloom of the cave, the limited light adding an air of mystery and enchantment to his gaze. "Stay here." The King murmured. He turned, and Ciara could see his full and aroused cock, suspended beneath his body, as he retreated for a moment to his horde. She bit her lip and watched, her muscles shuddering as she wondered what other marvelous differences her King's version of her potion may yet hold. The King of the Forest returned after just a moment. He held before him the polished full-length mirror that Ciara had used to add a sense of size to the tiny nook he had allotted to her exclusive use. She wondered for a moment what kind of damage her King would have had to do to remove it so quickly, but had no time to ask, for the King almost immediately set the mirror down before her. She smiled, glancing towards it, and said, "My liege, I had heard that it can be intoxicating, to have a lover take you before..." Her words trailed off as she saw her image in the mirror. Her eyes had changed dramatically; her reflection revealed that they were now a lustrous yellow, and her pupil had become a slit that cut it in half along its width. Her hair had become a lustrous, shining white and seemed to reflect the light in the same manner as her King's treasured horde. Ciara's skin had taken on a green-black sheen, paler than the King's own, and her chest and stomach had turned to a light white, like a soft underbelly. Her neck seemed longer and more delicate, with her face more angular and its features more refined than they once were. Most remarkable, though, by far, were the wings that extended from her back. She flexed her back muscles, and the folded wings responded. The fingers that splayed the wings were the light green of fresh, young leaves, and the membranes between them a paler speckled green, like the stretched skin of a leopard frog. She relaxed, and the wings unfurled themselves, stretching and widening. In the mirror, she saw her King's face behind her, watching her stare at herself in amazement. "Wings?" she murmured to herself, quietly. Her King answered her with a low, guttural snarl. He had lowered himself to the ground, and now crept up to her on all fours. His eyes had been reduced to mere slits as his lip curled up to reveal his savage teeth. Ciara bit her lip, her body still tingling in arousal and excitement. She rolled over, so that her stomach was towards the floor. She spread her knees, and rested on her elbows; Ciara found that growing wings had considerably added to her flexibility, as her hips were practically pressed to the floor, her legs nearly out to her sides. She looked back over her shoulder so that she could watch her King crawl towards her, his thick cock aimed squarely at her hips. The King reached forward and set his clawed paw around Ciara's body, one digit on either side of her head, holding her in place as he had before. This time, though, the soft membrane of her wings pressed into the center of his palm. She found that her wings were much more sensitive than she had thought, and the sensation from them was ticklish, tingling and acute. She spread her wings, practically wrapping them around her King's hand, feeling the ridges and joins of his scales rubbing against the leathery membrane of her wings. The head of the King's cock pressed against Ciara's wet and eager opening. She was always thrilled by the feel of her King's oversized shaft pressing into her, the feel of the swollen head of his grand cock pressing deep inside her. She had become accommodated to the feeling, and her sodden pussy immediately flexed in eager anticipation of the rough stretching it would receive. Silently, Ciara gave thanks again for the body-shifting potion that had allowed their lusts to be satisfied, and set her knees in place, preparing herself for the taking. Her King pressed with the head of his cock, itself nearly as wide as Ciara's hips, pressing it against her swollen and slick lips. Ciara felt her King's cock rub against her clitoris, and she moaned her appreciation. Yet, something was different. She would not describe her King as hesitant or gentle, but now he was running his cock back and forth along her slit. Rather than forcing his way into her, her King was teasing and tempting her, behavior he had not previously indulged in. The sensation of her King's firm and rigid shaft, with it's textured head running back-and-forth over her moist sex and eager clitoris, distracted from her curiosity about why he was doing it as she simply enjoyed the fact that he was. "Mmm, my King...", Ciara murmured, as little explosions surged through her body; she rotated her hips, slightly, pressing herself against the dark purple head of the King's cock, even as he rubbed it against her. "I am yours, my King. I want to feel you inside, now; I need no more preparation." Above and slightly in front of her, she heard the King chuckle. "Are you so sure?", the King asked. "Ready to have me take you?", her purred, as he pressed the head of his cock firmly against Ciara's hollow. The press of her King's cock was like a lightning-strike of pain and pleasure. Ciara cried out, as her pussy struggled to expand to accommodate the King, but it seemed as if their wonderful potion was not fast enough. Ciara felt her muscles stretch taut, almost to the point of snapping, as the King's cock pressed itself only just barely into her awaiting hole. A shudder passed along her body, a quivering moving through her thighs and a squeezing across her back; this was more, and harder, than her King had yet taken her, and even as her body cried out in pain, it begged the King's cock not to yield, not even a little. "Oh, Gods.", Ciara moaned. "It's ... it's too big, it's too much. W ... why is the potion not working? Please, please - softly, softly, I beg you, my King...", Ciara sobbed, the waves of pleasure roiling through her in equal measure to the pain. The King did not stop, though; instead he pressed on, insistent, the throbbing head of his shaft pressing its way steadily into Ciara's depths. Ciara dropped herself from her elbows to the floor, pressing her chest against the stone as she reached back to cup her buttocks in her hands. Ciara pulled her buttocks, trying to spread herself even more, to offer more of herself to her King. The pain was excruciating, but the cascade of pleasure that tumbled over Ciara were every bit as intense. Ciara heard herself moan, her King's cock stretching a wide path through her body. Ciara heard herself shriek, and felt the stones tremble. The King had never taken her like this, his hips see-sawing back and forth, probing, penetrating and intense. She raked her fingernails along the hard floor, and saw the stone flake and crack beneath her grip. She cried out as she felt her King's cock, as hard as steel, pressing against her cervix, trying to press her open. She moaned out her King's title, but she wasn't sure if she was begging for more or begging for mercy. With a snarl, the King beared down, pressing Ciara to the stones. Her body shuddering in pain and ecstasy, forcing her to cry out. She felt her wings, her wings, beating slowly, up and down, and she knew that her strength was far greater than before. When her King next withdrew, pulling himself back to forcefully press into her again, Ciara felt a shudder move along her throbbing pussy, and knew what she had to do. As the King thrust forward, driving into her, Ciara forced her hips back, meeting his thrust, trying to match his strength and force. She felt her King rebound off the depths of her, the head of his cock straining against the end of her cunt, pressing hard enough that Ciara worried she might tear inside. The sensation was electric, and sent a pulse of vivid pleasure rippling along her thighs and lower back. Ciara grunted as she thrust, a deep and guttural sound that was more animal than human, her pussy aching and desperate to feel her King's cock release its' load into her. As if in response to her wanton grunt, her King snarled and thrust into Ciara several times in quick succession. Ciara matched her King's motions with a rocking of her own hips, snarling back, feeling the back of her throat resonate. Even as she was snarling, though, she knew her pitch was rising, for she felt the product of her body's labors burgeoning inside her; she was going to cum again, and, from the swelling she felt from the head of her King's cock, he was going to join her in ecstasy this time. "Oh, yes...", she moaned, angling the top half of her body downward, pressing her chest to the ground, elbows bent out to her sides, palms against the stones. "Oh, God, my King, my King, yes, push in, push in ... fill me up, fill me right up ..." Her King, above her and still so much larger and more powerful than she, snarled and sank his claws into the stones just like she had, gouging deep furrows as he charged towards his climax. She felt the head of his cock, deep inside her, thrusting into her, pressing against her depths, and she cried out again and again, as it swelled up, threatening with each movent to finally burst... The King of the Forest thrust one final time, and Ciara felt as if she had been speared by his shaft; she felt as though he had found a way to plunge deeper inside of her than ever before. She gasped, and she heard his roar of dominance and triumph as his cock released his seed. When she felt it's torrent gush inside of her, she felt her pussy convulse as she released roar of her own. Her King cried out again as sticky rope after sticky rope of his seed-bearing cum filled Ciara's waiting pussy. Her voice joined hers as she roared alongside him; her voice was not that of some village-girl, but that of the mate of the King of the Forest. Her moans as she felt his cock pump were as his lover, but her voice knew to howl alongside her mate, thanking him as she announcing their pairing to the world. As their voices united, it was with enough force make their stone lair shudder. Queen to the Dragon King Pt. 03 Ciara knelt there beneath him, with her body shuddering and his fluid filling her hole entirely. She lay there panting for some time as her King's rigid cock at first refused to relax. His hips shuddered several times as he remained within her, releasing more and more seed, flooding her full with his cum until it spilled out around his shaft. Ciara cooed every time, until her King very gently withdrew himself from inside her. She felt the cum spill from her to the cold stone floor, and she whimpered, trying to angle her hips to keep as much of his load as she could as deep inside her as possible. Her King pulled himself from atop her to lay beside her, curling his tail around her, pressing her body against his. The King's foreleg lay across her upper torso, pressing Ciara into his body. Ciara could hear a rumble emanating from her lover, and from herself, and felt herself smile and nestle into him. He spoke softly, so that Ciara had to strain just a little to hear. "We'll leave in about a week, once you're accustomed to your wings. South of here, the lands are much more... stocked. We can find a place with enough food to keep both of us." Ciara felt her King's hand cup at her belly, where she could still feel his warm cum coating her insides, and she set her hand atop his. She felt tired, and her eyelids felt wonderfully heavy. She let sleep overcome her, treasuring it's warm softness as she slipped out of conciousness. "To feed all of us.", her King murmured, as his Queen slept. Queen to the Dragon King "I ... I could please you...", Ciara stammered, as her hips rocked upwards. The King interrupted her thought by causing his fantastical tongue to grazed the edge of her womanhood, and the resulting shudder through her body stole her words and left her crying out in pleasure. She paused a moment to catch her breath, and continued, "P... please, m'lord. Anything, I'd give you ... everything..." Ignoring her pleas, the King's tongue traced a careful circle around her womanhood, tickling the edges of her lips, flicking across the hood to her clitoris. Ciara felt herself twist and heard her whimpered moan in response, her legs curling wide to give him access to her. She released her grasp on the King's paw, and snaked her hand across her stomach, pressing past the snug downward pressure of the King's paw. As her hand slid through the sparse hairs between her legs, she felt one of the tips of the King's tongue play along her hand before wrapping around her wrist. The tongue's texture was soft and warm, but it's grip was firm as iron in holding her hand in place. The King made sure that only her fingertips could just barely touch the upper limits of her moist center. The other fork of the King's tongue was not idle, though. Even as he bound her hand he continued to draw ever-tighter whorls and circles around her womanhood. Once her hand was held fast, he slowly drew the wide muscular fork of his tongue up, along, and through Ciara, pressing against her core, pushing her lips aside and causing her to feel the ridges of his tongue tracing along her hot, soft opening. Ciara's fingers began to stroke, as she had done so many nights on her own. Her middle finger pulled up on her hood as her index finger rubbed alongside it, pulling a moan from her and making her hips rock up against the King's tongue. Even as he held her hand still, the tip of the fork the King had wrapped around her wrist nimbly teased, danced, and flicked along the top of her mound, reaching around her middle finger, flicking at her clitoris for itself. She moaned loudly again as the King lower the pad of his paw to press her shoulders down and pin her to the ground, trapping her into a position that gave him easy access. The pressure was just enough to make Ciara's breath ragged and forced. She bit her lip and her fingers began to move more quickly and insistently. She felt her climax dancing back and forth, just out of her reach, and she grew desperate for the release. The King's tongue pressed again at Ciara's entrance, and this time she yielded. With a cry, Ciara felt the thick cord-like length of the King's tongue press into her, deeper and deeper, seemingly without end. "Yes!", she called, intoxicated by the feeling of the tongue parting her as the King pressed it this way and that inside her, filling her and exploring the whole of her limits. "Yes, yes, my King, please, like that, fill me, just like that!" She knew what was done. On her father's farm, she'd seen horses and pigs and sheep mate. But to feel it, to feel the King's tongue fill her and press against the flesh inside her, stretching her, straining against her muscles, it was nothing like she'd imagined. It was nothing like the other girls had whispered. To have her King, so great and powerful, so able to simply crush the life from her; to have him inside her and making her beg, sent the blood rushing through her body, thrilled her, and made the sensations from her womanhood all the more intense. "P ... please.", she panted as her King rolled his tongue and sent it curling into her like a wave. "My ... My King, my body, I ... " Her fingers must have been little more than a blur now, with how quickly they rubbed at her, but the slick wetness ran thick from her womanhood, making the friction feel wonderful. "I ... I will ... cum, my Lord, if you ... if you...." Her words trailed off as she caught a scent of like charcoal. She blinked, and saw that the air around her had grown hazy as if she were inside a cloud. The King rumbled again and Ciara realized the smoke curled from his nose, as he sat laughing a quiet, proud laugh. "Then, cum.", her King commanded, his voice a rumbling baritone that Ciara could fell at the base of her spine. Wordlessly, she nodded and obeyed. The climax tore through her. It was neither a soft nor subtle feeling, but instead it was a savage, primal, almost bestial rending of her body. The climax ripping along her and caused her every muscle to tense. Ciara pressed herself up against her lover's paw while her left hand desperately clung to the side of one of his thick fingers, while her right still furiously rubbed at herself. Her body bucked, once, twice, and a third time, as the ecstasy faded into a pleasantly warm hum that tingled along her body and gave her wonderful shivers. Gently, the King raised his paw, but no more than perhaps six inches. Ciara took advantage of the chance to desperately gasp for breath. He gradually withdrew his tongue from within her as he released her wrist. Still gasping, Ciara smiled up at him as he smacked his lips, enjoying the taste that lingered on this tongue. "My ... my lord...", Ciara panted and smiled, and heard herself give a light giggle. "My lord, you ... it ... that was amazing. I ... I've never felt anything like it ..." The King withdrew his paw, and fanned his wings, to feel the heat of the afternoon sun. "We are not done yet, my Queen." He ran in paw along the earth, beside Ciara, and chuffed. "Come here. Come closer." Ciara turned herself over on to her hands and knees. As the King watched, Ciara slinked under the King's body. Once under her King, she proceeded back, and as he again adjusted his position, she saw what she had been looking for. There he was, the full length of him. Ciara gasped to see it; it wasn't so entirely different from the few she had seen in the village, only ... so much more so. It was long, nearly as long and thick as Ciara's whole arm. It was more than she'd expected but seeing it filled her with anticipation and dread in nearly equal measure. The King snarled lightly as curled his head down and peered in from between his front and hind legs along the side. Ciara licked at her lips, finding her mouth abruptly dry; her hips still quivered from the King's ministrations, and her womanhood yet ached to be taken. As Ciara's fingers touched the King's thick staff, she bit her lip. She heard the King's voice, somehow sounding distant as she stared at the head of the King's cock, as he said, "Taste it". As Ciara brought her head in close she thought of the words in her book, which described "a potion to please a lover, man or beast". It promised that the imbiber to give pleasure to any lover, no matter their size or shape, and to be pleased in return; the tingling along her limbs, and the throbbing of her womanhood told her that, thus far, it had done as promised. She could only think to continue to try. Ciara pressed her lips against the King's shaft below the flaring of it's thick head, and heard the King sharply intake his breath. Her King's flesh was not merely warm, but pleasantly hot. The taste of him was thick and heady, musky and earthy and rich. When Ciara felt his cock twitch beneath her lips, she groaned, glad to have learned she could please him. As she groaned, so did her King, a great rumble as he adjusted his footing to press the thickness of his shaft against her lips. She ran her hands along his length. While the King's girth did not seem too much greater than human she still could not close one hand around him. She gripped at him and with her thumb on one side and fingers wrapped about the other, ran her hand up and down to feel his length and admire his power. Her lips pressed against the shaft again, higher, where the skin of his shaft met the royal purple head that mushroomed around the top. She ran her tongue around the ridge there, and the King growled and pawed the earth. It gave Ciara a wonderfully pleasant tickle along the small of her back to hear her great King so pleased. Her kissing pushed on towards the split from which the King's seed would flow. Ciara wondered what her new lover would taste like, and she wondered what color his cum would be. Would it be white and creamy, or green or even black? At the head, his shaft was almost the same texture as her own lips, more spongy than rigid, and soft, supple and pleasing. As she kissed her tongue lapped between her lips, flicking at her King's flesh. And then her lips were at the tip, where she kissed again. Her tongue tested against the opening as if she was a new fancy for the first time, looping around the outside only to then quickly dart in, and then to curl as she withdrew. She could feel liquid with the thickness and sweetness of honey on her tongue, and she issued a pleased murmur as she felt it slide down her throat and begin to fill her belly. The King adjusted himself, setting his forepaws on the ground and raising his upper body on his elbows with his hind legs spread as he adjusted his hips. This adjustment pulled his shaft up and away from Ciara's grasp, but he was careful to make sure that the head of his cock never for a moment pulled away from her lips. Ciara could imagine her King's face with his eyes rolled back and half-lidded, ecstatic at her touch, and another surge excitement ran through her hips again. With a chuff, he flexed, pressing forward with his hips. The strength and pressure was enough to push Ciara's head back while spreading her mouth wide, and she squealed around her sudden mouthful of her King. She had little more than the very tip of him in her mouth, but her lips felt stretched, and she reached up, taking hold of the shaft that now hung above her. She pulled the thick staff back so that she could pull her mouth free and gasp for air. "More.", the King said, his voice resolute and resounding. "More. Take more of it into your mouth. Lick it." Ciara stammered as she tried to put forward a protest. She could not take more of the King's cock; she could barely take as much as she already had and continue to breathe. But as she began to form the words the King's voice came again, baritone and commanding with a hint of menace as he snarled, "Take it. Please me." Instinctively obeying, Ciara grasped the King's shaft firmly in her hands and brought her mouth up to it's head. She spread her lips, and then wider, and then wider, until the corners of her mouth stretched to their limit. She closed her eyes and hoped that the potion's magic would work, as she extended her tongue and pulled with her hands to sink the head of his shaft into her mouth. There was more than enough of him him to fill her mouth. Right away the corners of Ciara's mouth ached, and her jaw ached, and she wondered how she would breathe. As she felt the ridge where the head of his cock joined the shaft pass her lips, she heard the King bellow and felt a blast of gale-force winds as he beat his wings. Ciara knew then that she was pleasing him and then she didn't care that her breathing was difficult or that her jaw hurt. She cared far more more that her tongue could stroke that place where the head met the shaft, and that she kept her mouth warm and wet for her King, and that there was a tingling again, between her own legs. Bobbing her head just the smallest amount, Ciara released his thick shaft with one of her hands to reach down and touch at herself. She could taste and feel that honey-thick liquid slowly trickle from her lover's cock straight down her throat, so warm and thick that she felt as if she might choke on it. Behind her Ciara could hear the King's forepaws dig at the earth, desperate to find a purchase that would allow him to express his great pleasure. "Yes.", he snarled. "My Queen, my Queen, taste me. Drink it. Drink." Although Ciara had no choice but to obey, there was nothing she would rather do. Drops a quarter-cup in size flowed from the King's shaft and down Ciara's throat. She swallowed as quickly as she could but some still built up in her mouth. As her tongue rubbed it into his shaft, she coughed at the excess, and she felt some spill down her front. Her lips felt the cockhead surge, as if Ciara's desperation for air had pleased him. "Roll over", the King commanded Ciara. "Present yourself to me." Ciara hesitated a moment, but then nodded. On her knees, she turned around, mimicked her King's posture with her face down but not quite against the earth. Her palms on the wet ground, her forearms running along the dirt, and her back bent so that her buttocks were held up into the air. She felt the remains of her dress still trying to cover her, but felt her pussy throbbing, eager, hot and wet. She knew her King could never fit within her, for his cock was too long by twice and thicker than her wrist. Still, though, when she was bent over and presented to him, she felt almost as though she would like him to try. "Pull your dress aside.", the King ordered. Ciara rocked her hip and used her left hand to obey. She was on display to her King now, and her King would see just how wet and eager and desperate he had made his Queen. She focused on putting her hand back where it had been in order to keep from reaching down to pleasure herself. Ciara could feel her King craning his neck to see her body under him, bent and presenting herself to her King like a prize mare ready to be mounted. The thought both humiliated her and thrilled her, and she could feel her juices running down her own leg. She felt a pressure ,firm yet not unyielding, pressed fully against the whole of her opening. It was gently curved so the very tip protruded just inside her, where she could feel the spongy firmness of it against her flesh. She squeezed around the portion of the King that extended into her and a small whimper of anticipation escaped her lips. The King pressed gently but insistently, and Ciara heard herself cry out as her King pressed his cock against her. There was a moment of resistance when Ciara thought for a moment that she might not be able either to give her king what he wanted, or receive what she now desired... And then with a soft noise and another cry of surprise, and a surge of sensual pain and sharp pleasure, the head of her King's cock was inside her. Ciara felt herself throb around her King as her canal was widened by his girth. Ciara's muscles muscles strained to accommodate her lover, and as they stretched and flexed, and she deliberately squeezed herself to constricting around him. Her breath was ragged and hot, and she knew that if her King was not careful, their congress could literally rip her apart. Even so, that feeling of his powerful member within her, already pulsing and hot to the touch, widening her opening and making her feel full, made her wonder if being ripped apart might not be worth it. Part of her mind marvelled at how well her potion was working, while another part considered begging her King to withdraw, so he could enter her again. Biting her lip, Ciara grunted and began to Ciara roll her hips as she'd heard of women doing when they danced beneath coloured veils. She rolling her hips in a tight circle to swivel herself around the head of her King's cock, and he snarled. It was a rough and brutish noise and Ciara knew that while he'd made the sound with his throat had originated much deeper down. She pushed herself back against and along his cock by no more than a quarter-inch, and her pain and pleasure both soared again ... though with wonderfully more pleasure than pain. Ciara's breath was shallow and ragged as her head hung low and her fingers clawed the ground. "Take me", she moaned. "Please, my King; take me. Use me. I ... I want to feel it, my lord, I want to feel you ... inside of me..." The King's talons sank into the earth as he pressed himself forward. Ciara shrieked as her ecstasy tinged with agony, when the tip of the King's great shaft pushed deeply into her and pressed open a deep furrow inside her. When he stopped, Ciara heard her voice whimper, a strangely pathetic and needy sound, as she kept rocking her hips and trying to steal an extra quarter-inch of her King's length. There was certainly pain, but it was buried under the ecstasy she felt. Her hips shuddered and her whole body felt tense and taut like a guitar string, drawn tightly for the King to pluck. The King snarled, a guttural and feral sound, a primal sound, and Ciara felt the earth beneath her shudder as he sank his talons further into it. Within her Ciara could feel her King's full and eager cock, already throbbing as though it was about to give up his seed. She could feel his member quiver, which produced a wondrous feeling that sent shudders throughout her pelvis, as his cock twitched, barely contained. Ciara felt her King inhale, and felt him withdrawing from within her as he did. He did not withdraw completely; in fact he barely pulled back, probably less than an inch. But his withdrawal produced in her another shudder and an accompanying feeling of emptiness, as if she were a jug that was suddenly empty of its contents and waiting eagerly to be filled again. Ciara heard whimper escape from her again, and she felt her hand move across the earth without her instruction. The hand moved down to her womanhood through her peach fuzz to rest along the King's shaft and with her thumb upon her clitoris, where it could rub, just a little. The King inhaled for what seemed like forever, waiting with his cock still within her but not taking her as he had been, not filling her so wonderfully. Ciara's fingers pulled at his shaft, and her thumb rubbed at her own clit, and she could feel the walls of her canal shudder and again squeeze around her King. He paused for a moment, just then, and she hoped the ministrations of her womanhood had worked their magic and stolen his attention. After just a moment, her King snarled again, and inside her, the head of his thick shaft twitched, almost bulging, almost bursting. "Oh", she moaned, "Oh, my King, yes, put it in, put it deep in me, take your Queen, make me your Queen...", she moaned, before she could bite her cheek to silence herself. But her begging had been heard. The King exhaled. It was hot, and damp, like a blast from a furnace somehow kept humid. As her King exhaled, he growled out a low rumble, vicious and cruel, dominating and primeval. His snarl was a show of force and dominance, and Ciara's spine shuddered and arched to hear her King command her so. And then he pushed. At the last moment Ciara's thoughts turned to her potion and a prayer that it was as miraculous as her book claimed flooded her mind, but the thought was quickly overwhelmed by a wonderful feeling of being filled. Previously, the King had entered her with caution and control, carefully measuring the fullness of him that her fragile body would take. Now it seemed that her words had forced his lust to overcome his good senses, so he pressed steadily onward and inward, and Ciara could feel her flesh grow taut and stretch. She could feel his cock press into her and felt her previously unopened canal spread as the head of her King's cock marked her as his Queen. She could feel him lower his hips and could feel the scales of his underbelly lightly run over the height of her backside. At long last, she felt the base of her King's shaft, lightly scaled but still with a flesh feel, press in and set itself against her pussy lips. Ciara held all of her King within her, and more importantly, he had taken every bit of her. She was aware of her King straining, his tip firmly jutting against her cervix, hungrily seeking out even as much as an eighth of an inch more of her. Ciara could sense the walls of her canal stretch and tremble at the effort to take in the whole of him. As her body shuddered, stretched to its breaking point, she could feel the King's thick shaft pulse, and she knew he was ready to burst. Queen to the Dragon King Her King rolled his hips and Ciara's eyes rolled into her head as her vision clouded in response, with shudders from inside her throbbing pussy carried up along her spine and down along her thighs. Her fingers still worked furiously at her clit, chasing a climax that continued to skitter just out of reach, teasing and tempting her, always and forever almost there. "Yes!", Ciara moaned into the earth, as much to herself as to anyone else. Her climax danced just that bit closer and she felt her legs shudder as the dam within her prepared to burst. With a shift of his hips, the King pulled back, still buried within her but pulling back one, two, and a third inch. Her King then rocked his hips forward and Ciara could feel the shaft plunge into her again, feeling the tip split the walls of her again as it pressed a shriek out her throat. The force of his pressing was almost more than she could bear, and her hand paused a moment at her clitoris to revel in just the feelings of pleasure and pain that her King's thrust had sent rippling through her. As she paused, her King pulled back again. Each of her King's thrusts drew a gasped cry from Ciara's throat as she could feel her eyes stinging with tears. Between primal shrieks, she bit her lip, floating on the ecstasy that roiled through her body while her fingers worked fervently at her clitoris. Her muscles tensed as climax taunted her, the spasms from her vagina squeezing at the head of the King's cock and drawing a grow from him. With a final snarl, her King bore down on her, pursuing his own climax with vigor. Finally, her King simply pressed, and released a trumpeting bellow that could be heard for miles. Inside Ciara, her King's cock drilled deeper one last time and she felt some barrier inside herself burst and give way, and she came. Her pussy pulsed and tightened, right away milking the King's cock, as Ciara heard herself scream so hard it seemed like her throat would be ruined. Her fingers clawed at the dirt beneath her hands, digging in as if she was trying to pull up whole fistfuls of black earth. Her thighs shuddered and her knees weakened, as she half-fell forward, as if exhaustion had abruptly taken hold of her. A wonderful white fire of pleasure started at the end of Ciara's canal and tore through her body like an inferno. The convulsions from the fire rocketed through Ciara's pussy in a flash, before it set the muscles of her back ablaze as she arched her spine. The pleasure made Ciara's shoulders rejoice from the sudden release of tension and forced her head up so that her scream could carry. It made her hips shudder, relieved her knees of their ache, and swirled through her taking forever, and not long enough, to travel from her fingertips to her toes. She could feel her lips tremble and her eyes water. And, as the wonderful fire subsided it cooled and drew back. In the end, the white-hot heat of the fire stayed lightly burning deep inside of her, at the limits of her straining, wet womanhood. As the fire surged through Ciara, with a triumphant bellow her King joined her. He forced himself forward just a bit more, and Ciara felt as though she might burst. With a mighty jerk from inside her, her King set his seed. There was force behind it, and had Ciara not been on her hands and knees it might have been enough to knock her from her feet. She felt it impact her inside, a warm and thick feeling that added to her sense of being full. She heard herself laugh, a nervous little laugh coming from being all too pleased with herself, as her King panted. Inside her, Ciara could feel his cock pulse again and again, pumping her full of his seed and marking her as his Queen, the King's belonging. His. Ciara gave a gentle groan as she leaned forward as she felt her King's shaft resting inside her, slowly relaxing having fulfilled its duty. Her fingers still gently stroked at her clit, and between her fingers she could feel her King's seed slowly sliding out around the edges of her King's shaft. She heard her King exhale heavily, almost sleepily, and felt her lips twitch with a smile. Ciara curled up on the earth as her King finally withdrew from her. She was tired and spent and warm and full and pleased. Her King lowered himself over top of her, adjusting himself slightly so that she came to rest alongside his belly. She could feel the warmth of his body alongside her, and her head nestled in under his foreleg. Her toes tickling just a little at his thigh as he bent both legs to surround her. And lastly, he lowered his head to finishing the loop around her body, so that Ciara was surrounded and protected by her lover's powerful form. Ciara rested her head against her dragon's side, as a pleasant rumble emanated from her King. Thus far, to her great pleasure, her plan had worked perfectly; the King had taken her as his Queen, and she had survived. How many girls would her efforts spare? How long could she keep her King purring and happy? Lazily basking in afterglow and stroking at the soft, pliable scales of her King's underbelly, it seemed like it could last as long as her reserves of the potion did. Her King sniffed the air, loudly, and tightened the loop of his body around her. The King murmured, "Sleep now. When you wake, I will take you deeper in the swamp, to my lair.", and Ciara nodded, her eyes heavy and her body pleasantly aching. "And we shall have to bring that marvelous book of yours.", the King whispered into Ciara's ear. "I think ... I think we will go through a lot of that potion, you and I." Ciara felt herself giggle, pleased with her plan, herself, and with her King, and she fell into pleasantly deep sleep.