Atop a pile of shiny furniture fittings, fool's gold and spare change, a figure moved. Rusted coins clinked and shifted under its bulk, slithering over one another as it rose from the tangled heap of metalwork. Imitation jewels bounced away, click-clacking across the cold stone floor of the cave, motes of gaudy colour amidst a sea of grey, silver and brass. The figure snorted in disgust and kicked the most errant escapees back into place at the foot of the pile. It was a poor horde, especially for a creature which had once slept atop the crowns of kings and the riches of empires, but greed was written deep into the bones of her people, and lean times had made her miserly still.

Territoriality, too, had been hardwired into her long ago. She tolerated the presence of the other two in her lair because they were useful; if pushed, she would have admitted that part of that use was alleviating the boredom and frustration she often felt when contemplating her lot. Her first few steps were awkward, ungainly; she snarled and staggered like a drunk, bright sparks hissing from between her fangs, and lashed her tail behind her until she found her balance. She hated having to walk around on two legs. She missed her wings.

But things had changed. There was a fourth, now. Linda was keeping the newcomer sequestered in her own chambers, but she knew the network of caves and tunnels that made up her lair like the back of her hand, and still possessed enough low cunning to use them to her advantage. She had watched and listened from afar, squatting like a scaly gargoyle in side-passages and atop overhanging ledges, getting a measure of the new one. The others knew she was there, of course - she could be cunning, but was too proud to be given towards stealth or patience - but they had politely pretended not to notice. 

She dragged her claws through her thick mane of yellow hair, tugging out knots and tangles, and washed herself in one of the pools of volcanic water that bubbled up in one of her lair's many side-chambers. Her body was powerful and muscular, possessed of a broad-shouldered stockiness that, when combined with her arrogant bearing, made her seem far taller than she actually was. She let out a low rasp of pleasure as she sank into the scalding water, feeling it ease the tension from muscles perpetually set in readiness for a fight. She polished her crimson scales, rinsed the remnants of last night's dinner from between her fangs, and used handfuls of rocky silt to buff away the scuff marks on the curling horns that circled her ears, preening herself with a cat's vanity. 

The newcomer was male. She had smelled it as soon as he had walked into the cave, long before she had set eyes upon him. His scent was strange, artificial somehow. He was a dragon, she knew that much, like Linda or herself - but there was a subtle wrongness about it that made her cautious, a predator's old instincts warning her not to approach until she knew what exactly he was. 

But those were not the only instincts at play.

She sunk deeper under the water, feeling her legs sighing apart and indulgently allowing the seething waters to boil and course over the delicate spot that lay between them. How long had it been since she had encountered a male of her kind? Entirely too long, she thought, rolling her head back and letting out a low, rasping sigh as the water bubbled and seethed around her, caressing and lapping at her scaly skin. The other one - Simmer, the Kobold - brought her tribute at times, and she had taken a certain amusement from kidnapping people and conquering the knights that came along to rescue them before Linda put a stop to it, but it just wasn't the same. It wasn't...satisfying, not in the way it should be. No matter who or how generously endowed they were, they just couldn't quite seem to touch her right, to get deep enough, to properly scratch an itch that was as much mental as it was physical, leaving her more frustrated and unfulfilled than when she had started. She needed teeth, and claws, and scales and aggression. She needed someone who was a match for her, not the cringing monkeys Simmer fawned over. 

The urge to sink a pair of knobbled fingers into herself gnawed at the edge of her consciousness as a particularly vigorous stream of bubbles raced over her, drawing another low growl of pleasure from her throat. She was not a creature given to self-denial, but...no, not today, she thought. Water sluiced off the generous curves of her body as she hauled herself out of the water and shook herself down like an animal, rolling her shoulders and flexing wing-muscles that were no longer there. A wide, razor-toothed grin spread over her face. There was a heat in her now, as if the warmth of the water had crept into her body and clung there, transforming into a itch, a yearning that writhed and squirmed in her guts, reminding her how very long it had been since she was last properly sated. But this time, she welcomed it. 

"Right," the figure said. "Time to go break in the new boy."

---

Surinen's head hurt. He wasn't a stupid person by any means, but it had become obvious in the days since Linda had brought him into the caves that she was an order of magnitude smarter than he was. The fact that she had several centuries worth of experience on him certainly didn't help either.

"Well, you're some sort of simulacra." She said, leafing through one of the heavy old tomes piled around the chamber. To the observer, the two figures would have seemed lost in the vast cavern; only a small part of it was furnished, mostly with writing desks and worktables, along with a great, great many bookshelves. Curtains hung here and there, sectioning parts off to give a vestige of privacy if she felt the need to retreat from the other two, or was entertaining a guest that had particularly sparked her interest. "An artificial creature, born straight into adulthood...though, I should hasten to add, that doesn't make you any less of a person, despite such unusual origins. I know I've asked this before, but can you really remember nothing of where you came from?"

A warm smile spread over the woman's dark-skinned face. She was tall and thin, fine-featured and deceptively delicate looking to Surinen's eye, with pink and purple feathers woven through her glossy black hair. She wore a light blue dress that reminded him of a clear summer's sky, and she carried herself with the grace and confidence of someone who was well aware of their own beauty, but respected themselves enough not to be vulgar about it. He, by comparison, was wearing the same ragged pair of trousers he'd been found in. It made him feel a little inadequate.

"No, I'm afraid not." Surinen sighed, racking his brains for the umpteenth time since he had been taken in. "I can remember chanting, and...I'm not sure. Metal, echoes. A vat, maybe?" He returned her smile, but the expression was almost apologetic. "It's all a bit of a blur, really. I am trying."

"I know. Well, give it time. Things might start to come back to you." Linda reached out and patted his hand reassuringly, one of her fingers idly tracing the patterns of small, neat black scales that covered his hands and forearms. More of them decorated his flanks as well as crawling up his legs. Linda seemed to find them fascinating, but they annoyed Surinen. He had only been alive for - or at least, only had memories of - a mere two years and knew relatively little about fashion, but had noticed that thigh-high boots and ankle-gloves were usually worn by women rather than men. He couldn't look at his scale patterns without thinking of that.

Not that this was the strangest part of him. Surinen's skin was frightfully pale and feathered with long cracks, like damaged porcelain. The patterns shifted as he moved, forming and vanishing, sometimes disappearing back into the skin, sometimes splintering wider. The process caused him no pain or injury, and there was no blood - just an insubstantial, inky smoke that boiled from the strange lesions and an electric-blue inner glow.

"We've got plenty of space here." Linda continued. "I've heard stories of a witch out in the badlands who offers a home to any misfit or oddity that manages to catch her eye, but you'll be quite welcome to live with us if you'd prefer."

"Ah, yes." Surinen said. "I think I'd prefer to stay among, well, you know, my sort of people. Even if I'm only a..." he trailed off and shrugged. "A fake dragon, I imagine it'll be better than signing up with some carnival of horrors. Though..."

Surinen paused again, his eyes flicking around the room. "Though, surely you'll need to get the agreement of the other one first before inviting me to stay? I don't want to impose, after all."

"Oh, Grill?" Linda laughed airily. "She's just shy. Simulacra or not, you're the first male dragon she's seen in a long time. Given her condition, she's probably somewhat conflicted about seeing you."

"Mm. A curse, wasn't it? She's trapped between forms?"

"And has been for a long time. Quite sad really, and it certainly hasn't done much for her patience. I've been looking for a way to cure her," Linda waved one of her slender arms at a stack of magical tomes, carefully placed out of the way on top of one of her bookshelves, "but the enchantment really is terribly stubborn. In a way, you're both rather unique. She might open up a bit more to you."

Surinen was about to reply when the sound of claws on stone echoing from the corridor - really just a rocky passage decorated with some salvaged paintings and decorations to mark the approach to Linda's lair - cut him off. 

"Ah, speak of the devil." Linda said. She rose from her seat and glided towards the entryway, but barely got three steps towards the other dragon barged through the curtain. Surinen couldn't help but gasp at the sight of her. A leonine mane of yellow-blonde hair flared up against a coldly beautiful face that would not have looked out of place on a Valkyrie, which in turn was framed by a pair of curling black horns. Crimson scales glittered across her body, contrasting with the softer, paler skin of her breasts and belly as she strode arrogantly across the chamber, a thick tail slashing back and forth in her wake. She was completely naked, but carried herself with neither shame nor any sort of exhibition, as if she was utterly unaware of or unconcerned by her nudity.

"Alright, bookworm?" The other woman announced. She paced impatiently, and while her large, golden eyes mostly resided on Linda, Surinen couldn't help but noticed how they kept sliding away from her to him. He couldn't tell if she was eyeing his slender, athletic body or sizing him up for a fight, and wasn't sure which was the worse prospect. "How's the interview going?"

"Well, he's - "

"Nah, actually, I don't care." She snorted, spraying a puff of embers into the air. "Go find Simmer and make yourselves scarce for a bit. There's stuff I gotta do."

Linda sighed and rolled her eyes. She gave Surinen an apologetic look and a small, polite bow, before sweeping from the room and gliding down the corridor. From his seat, Surinen heard a muffled conversation, followed by a soft rippling noise and the distant swoosh of great wings. Surinen turned away from the now-empty corridor and looked over to the other woman, and felt a shudder of apprehension run down his spine at the predatory look in her eye. Her chest heaved with every breath she took, and the slow motion of her tail dragged his eyes down to the wide curve of her hip no matter how hard he tried to maintain eye-contact.

"I'm sorry," he said eventually, standing and extending a hand. She scowled, staring at the spidersweb cracks that flowed across his skin, before puffing a cloud of ashen smoke out the corner of her mouth. "You would be, ah, Grill, correct? It's an...unusual name, if I may say so."

Grill shrugged. "It's not my proper name. Does the job well enough for now, though."

There was a faint stress on the words 'for now'. Enough that Surinen knew to drop the subject. He waited a moment, then lowered his hand.

"So," she said. "Are you?"

"Am I what?"

She rolled her eyes. "A dragon, dimwit."

"Well, that's...complicated." Surinen replied. He wrung his hands nervously, unsure of himself. The woman took a step closer, and he could feel the powerful, almost volcanic, heat radiating from her body. It was not unpleasant, washing over the bare skin of his chest and prickling on his face. 

"No it isn't." Grill scowled. "You are or you aren't."

"In that case, I suppose, technically you could-"

"ARE YOU OR AREN'T YOU?"

The noise ended as quickly as it had begun. Surinen realized he had taken a step backwards in the face of Grill's sudden bellow. His heart raced and a sudden tremor passed through his body; the lines that fractured his skin cracking wider, the lightning-blue glow spilling from the dermal fissures illuminating Linda's chamber for a moment as thick smoke poured from him like blood. He could feel things shifting inside him, like his muscles were trying to leap off his bones, as his fight-or-flight instincts fought to overcome his conscious mind. He half-expected Grill to attack him, to feel the sudden sting of a slap or the bite of her claws, but she remained where she was, her hands planted on her lips and an expression of stubborn annoyance upon her face.

She's not angry, he thought, not really. It's just noise, just volume, a dragon roaring in irritation at the lesser creatures around it.

"In that case, yes, I rather suppose I am." He said, somewhat lamely.

Grill's eyes narrowed as she examined him. She grudgingly admitted that he was attractive, by human standards. His body was slender and lean, built like a runner or a swimmer rather than a warrior, but she could see the athletic strength in his tight muscles. The male's face, too, was hard and narrow, framed by a curtain of sleek, blue-black hair that hung down to his shoulders like oil. But there was something about him...a hollowness around the cheeks and eyes, as if he was sick or...unfinished, she thought suddenly. She took a step closer and reached for him, placing one of her large, scaled hands on his chest and drawing her fingertips down the flowing lines of cracks that danced across his pale skin, feeling the flex of his muscles as he flinched back under her touch. The corner of her lips quirked into a smile at the little thrill of pleasure that came with his uncertainty, the warm heat of her arousal blooming deeper as she examined his body. Her tail beat against the ground in excitement. He was weak, she thought, the sort of male that she would have hounded out of her territory in her heyday, but if he could change...

She pushed herself closer still, inside the male's arms, pressing her naked body against him. The artificial scent that clung to him was all-pervasive, hanging in the air like the smoke that poured from his strange stigmata, but she was quickly moving beyond the point of caring. Linda would tell her what it meant later, like always, if it was important. His hands flapped behind her, brushing pleasurably against the scales of her back and the generous curve of her behind before twitching away again. 

"Good enough." She said, her voice low, husky. Her body was already reacting as she embraced him, her heart racing, the wet heat of her arousal coming to full bloom as she imagined what his true form might look like. "We're gonna fuck."

"I'm sorry, we're - we're what?" Surinen stammered out in reply.

"We're gonna fuck. You've got the right bits, yea?" Grill said. One of her hands wandered lower, ticking over Surinen's belly, lingering upon the edge of his trousers and exploring the tight pattern of his abdominals. Just as he drew in air to reply, the woman grinned and ripped downwards, her claws easily shredding through the ragged material and sending it fluttering to the floor. Her expression only widened further as she felt him spring upwards, a length of heat and hardness that slapped against the wetness already clinging to her inner thigh. "And stop apologizing all the damn time." She added. "Dragons don't apologize to anyone."

Surinen bit back the apology that sprung to his lips. He knew about sex, of course, and Linda had warned him about Simmer's lascivious attitude shortly after taking him in, but he hadn't expected this - not from Grill, distant and surly on the few occasions he'd caught sight of her, nor so abruptly. It didn't seen proper, somehow. Didn't couples usually court first? Did dragons even bother courting, or was that just something he'd picked up from the humans he'd come across in his short life?

And yet...there was a powerful vitality about her, a sense that there was something great and terrible straining against the boundaries of her physical body, like an afterimage that danced on the edge of his perceptions but stubbornly refused to come into focus. It was intoxicating, strangling conscious thought and firing instincts buried deep in his lizard-brain. He rolled his shoulders as if to flex a pair of invisible wings and kicked against the ground, like an animal with its hackles raised in challenge. His prick strained against her leg, harder than he'd ever felt it before, like a length of forge-fresh metal that screamed to be quenched.

"Don't I get a say in this?" He said. It felt like his body was running ahead of his mind. Surinen's hands drifted close to the woman's rear, dimping the tight, scaly flesh before retreating again, as if afraid to take the permission she had so obviously extended.

"Not if you want to sleep here." Grill replied. Her body throbbed maddeningly, and she ground her thighs together, trapping Surinen's stiff cock between them as she sought a moment's relief from the itch that had spread through her core. "I want you to change."

His eyes opened a fraction wider in surprise. She could sense his desire to - part of him, part of every dragon when confined to a monkey-shell, longed to spread its wings and be free. The ghostly cracks that crawled across his body spread and widened further, like an egg at the point of breaking. The inky smoke that billowed forth smelt of ozone, like the sky before a storm.

 "I'm sorry, I don't know if that's a - " Her low growl cut him off. Their every movement caused her breasts to drag against his lithe chest, sending sparks through her needy body. He saw the expression in her eyes and nodded, disentangling himself from her and stepping back.

"Oh, fine. Here?" He asked, looking around Linda's cavern.

"S'as good as any. Birdbrain can complain about it when she gets back."

Another nod. Surinen's body was almost as much cracks as it was unmarred flesh. He closed his eyes and spread his arms, a faint frown of concentration upon his face. Grill watched, fascinated yet impatient, as the glowing fractures spread across his body, joining and running into one another like tributaries joining a river. Smoke boiled and billowed from the lesions until he was mostly obscured from sight, but in the depths of the cloud Grill could still make out something moving, growing, expanding, shaking free of the crumbling body it had been trapped in like an insect crawling free of its chrysalis. She had the impression of skeletal wings, somehow insubstantial despite how furiously they beat the air, and of a long, looping tail and graceful neck. 

She advanced, her claws sweeping tendrils of smoke out of her path. It coiled and curled around her legs like a living thing, strangely cool against her natural heat. The ozone-stink was stronger now, almost overpowering, but it was mixed with other things; the artificial bitterness of metal, the scent of clouds or rain, and other things which she could not put words to but made her think of long shadows or the dark spaces between stars. Another growl slipped from her throat. Like any dragon she had a deep respect for grandeur, but not when it was on her time, and especially when she was being upstaged. Her scales itched with the urge to change, but experience had taught her not to disappoint herself by trying.

The air was full of something not unlike ash, catching in her throat and making her cough. The smoke began to retreat, drawing inwards towards the creature that squirmed and thrashed in the center, wrapping around its insubstantial body and layering it with muscle and sleek, deep blue skin. She saw wings - or the long bones of a wing, the 'skin' strung between them comprised of swirling, trapped smoke, like caged storms, illuminated from within by flashes of jagged lightning. It was to these that the smoke was drawn into, revealing a narrow, crocodilian head crowned with a pair of long, backswept horns. Actinic light, the same that had bled from Surinen's wounds, drooled from between overlapping teeth as he swung his head around to look at her.

"Is this better?" Surinen asked. His voice still held a trace of the prissy accent his ape-body spoke with, but it was lower and grander, and rumbled out of him like the first peals of thunder. He shuffled in place as Grill ran her eyes over his sleek body, clawing nervously at the ground with his hind legs. She licked her lips and placed a hand on the milky scales of his chest, exploring the shape of his muscles. 

Grill didn't even bother trying to make eye contact with the other Dragon. "Say that again", she said, her hands wandered along his body, exploring the unfamiliar shapes of his muscles. He was thinner and more snakelike that she might have liked, but there was an elegant power to Surinen's body that the Dragon's discomfort could not entirely strangle. He was perhaps seven or eight meters from nose to tail, his length three times her height, his body standing as tall as a large horse. His head bobbed atop its serpentine neck, following her as she stepped over his tail, and his scales shone like oil on water with every anxious movement. 

Surinen's long neck bent forwards, curling around Grill's body to bring his head level with hers. Hot gusts of air snorted from his nostrils and from between his teeth, tickling the softer skin of her breasts and belly. "I, erm...is this better?" He said, a sheepish expression plastered over his narrow snout. Grill closed her eyes and grinned. She didn't care what he said, but the bassy vibrations of his voice set something inside her trembling. He might have been a weak specimen by her standards, but the sound was so...primal, so far removed from the flimsy bipeds Simmer brought her and their constant, tinny whining. One of her hands slid under Surinen's body, her long claws gently tickling his softer underbelly and drawing a rumble of pleasure from within the Dragon's chest. His wings flapped next to her, the updraft blowing her hair around her face in a golden cloud. 

"Yea, you'll do." Grill laughed and slapped Surinen's hindquarters, making him grunt in surprise. "Now roll over, I want to see what you're packing." 

"I still think this is all very sudden." Surinen muttered as he rolled over. His wings leaked smoke across the ground as he spread them for balance, and his long neck arched almost protectively forwards over his exposed underside. "We don't really know each other. Don't people normally talk more before doing, well, this?"

Despite his protests, either Surinen's arousal had transitioned along with him as he changed shape, or Grill's exploration of his body had already provoked a response from his new body. For as he settled in his new position, a foot and a half of erect, pale blue prick flopped against his underbelly with a wet, meaty slap. A pang of arousal shot through Grill's body at the sight of it, stealing away her breath and setting her heart racing. Wetness clung to her scaly thighs and old memories stirred in the back of her mind, reminding her of past mates who would have put even this specimen to shame.

There was a moment's awkward silence. Surinen raised one his his hindlegs to try and conceal himself and cringed atop his long neck. 

"You're staring" He said.

Grill blinked and shook her head. "Shut it, dork" She snapped, pushing aside his attempts at covering himself. The woman slung one of her toned legs over Surinen's prone body and hopped up, her face pointed towards the magnificent slab of flesh that had been laid out for her. He was cool against the heat of her body, and the kiss of his belly-scales between her legs as she straddled him drew a sharp hiss of pleasure from between her fangs. "It's been a while, alright?"

Surinen wisely held his silence at that. Grill shifted in place, laying forwards and raising her tail invitingly. She could feel the slow throb of the dragon's heartbeat coursing through her body, and his warm breath prickled upon her sensitive, exposed outer lips, making her murmur and squirm in place, eager to catch each snorting gust of warm air. 

Another might have begun slowly, with gentle touches and explorations, giving themselves and their partner time to adjust to the differences between one another's bodies. Not Grill. She was greedy, and impatient, and she wasted no time in sliding a hand under Surinen's weighty prick and lifting the head towards her mouth. It was hot and slippery with fluids, and long, wet strings oozed from between her fingers. The prongs that swept backwards from the head seemed to pulse as she took the tip of the head into her mouth, closing her lips around it with a satisfied groan. His strange metal-and-ozone scent filled her nostils as she sucked him deeper, her tongue playing around the first few inches of vital, pulsing dragon prick, probing the hole at the tip and lapping beneath the fleshy fringe. 

Grill's free hand eagerly worked Surinen's shaft, her fingers roaming over the divots and ridges that lined the hot piece of meat, massaging the sensitive organ until she felt the tapered head pulse and ripple within her mouth, and a thick wad of precome painted her tongue with musky fluid. It was rich and bitter, and she relished the flavor as she coated the inside of her mouth with the stringy liquid, the extra lubrication helping ease the last of the dragon's cockhead past the tight ring of her lips. 

She felt Surinen shift suddenly beneath her, a shudder running through the dragon's prone body. "Watch your teeth." He grumbled, the voice echoing from behind her.

"Pussy." Grill snorted, easing him from her mouth with a wet pop and shooting a mocking look back over her shoulder. "Speaking of, you just gonna lie there, or what?" She raised her tail higher and lifted her hindquarters a little, shaking her ass back and forth to catch his attention.  Linda might have been content to bestow pleasure upon one of her suitors without receiving any in return, and Simmer would jump at anything which flashed her a sideways look, but Grill was not a selfless lover. Her body screamed its demands for attention from every pore, from the hot flush that turned her skin almost as ruddy as her scales to the wetness that ran from between her legs and speckled Surinen's belly with glimmering droplets. 

Unlike Grill, Surinen was more patient with his ministrations. The Dragon's long, forked tongue lapped at the woman's inner thighs, tasting the glistening trails of fluid that clung to them. It crept up her legs, the delicate points barely touching her softer skin, flicking over her outermost lips before dancing away again, drawing mixed growls of lust and frustration from her throat. Long years of pent-up arousal and disappointing encounters has left her needy and sensitive, and each gentle touch of Surinen's long, rough tongue against her sent a tremor through her aching body. Each time, she would roll her hips backwards and thrust them higher, her tail arching back over her head as if exposing herself further would encourage her draconic paramour to stop his relentless teasing.

"Quit it" She grunted. The words came slowly, almost painfully, forced out between heavy, rasping breaths. "Stop screwing around back there and do your job."

The dragon's reply was a low chuckle that echoed from the cavern's walls like rolling thunder. "I quite like seeing you like this, though" Surinen said. Though he was unfamiliar with his true body, he could feel the power that ran through his long, scaly body. For all her bluster, Grill seemed so much smaller than him, and for a few moments the idea of turning the tables on her passed through the slow, cold, reptilian parts of his mind. His wings flapped against the floor as he imagined how easy it would be to reach out and pluck her off him, to hold her upside down and explore her formidable body at his leisure.

But then she rounded on him, eyes full of fire, and again there was that sensation of something pushing against the limits of her physical body. Even with her chin slathered in precome and saliva and her hair lank with sweat the woman managed to look utterly ferocious, and Surinen shrank back, his head bobbing meekly in submission.

Perhaps, though, he had an ounce of revenge when his tongue finally plunged into Grill's heat proper. Her body tensed, like a piece of elastic drawn too tight, as his tongue squirmed its way deeper inside her. Grill could feel something building inside her, pushing against the back of her throat; the urge to cry out as Surinen's tongue twisted and turned within her, each coil rubbing against her inner walls as the delicate forks at the end flickered across her most sensitive areas. She clung to the dragon's cock like a it was the mast of a sinking ship, her hands wrapped around the base and the thick shaft pressed between her soft, round breasts, barely aware of the slow trickle of warm, stringy fluid that smeared across her body. She rocked back and forth, alternating between pulling away from the wriggling, pulsating thing that had penetrated her body leaning in to encourage it, letting out no noise but a thin, reedy whine as she ground her body against Suirnen's prick, the ridges and undulations upon it caressing her breasts and her belly, adding to overwhelming sensations.

Her climax crept up on her unawares; there was no sudden peak, no thunderous crash of ecstasy. Surinen's tongue continued its relentless assault, slowly coaxing her onwards and onwards as it curled and lashed, drinking deep from the well of her arousal until she could contain herself no longer. The whine became a whimper, though she would have raged at anyone who described it as such, which in turn became a cry that grew in volume as Surinen's tongue dragged the orgasm from her stubborn body. She hugged the rippling column of flesh in her hands tight and let the moment wash through her, feeling it course through every part of her before she fell fowards, eyes half-closed, dizzy and limp.

There was, for a moment, silence. Surinen squirmed in place, his tail twitching, then leaned in to nudge Grill's prone body with his nose. Concern warred with the acute sensation of his own need; he was almost painfully hard, and the feeling of Grill's warm, heavy body draped over his length did little to calm the arousal she had kindled with her rough tongue and grasping hands. He nudged her again, harder this time, rocking her limp form back and forth. Had he hurt her, somehow? It seemed like a ridiculous idea, but if he had? 

A kernel of irrational fear building inside him, Surinen pushed his nose forwards a third time.

Grill kicked him in it.

"I was catching my breath, idiot." She said. Grill rolled off him and landing heavily, though a little unsteadily, on the cavern floor as Surinen reared backwards, snorting and instinctively pawing at the end of his muzzle. She laughed at that, shaking her hair out with an imperious flick of her head, though her eyes never wandered from her partner's member for long. His tongue had done its job, yes, but no matter how bastardized her body was, she was still a Dragon. Greed was hard-written into her. She would always, always, want more.

Surinen flapped his wings as he rolled back onto his legs, sending spare sheets of paper and bundles of Linda's notes fluttering to the ground in a typhoon of paper as he attempted to shake out the worst of the cramp that had set in. "I'm afraid I already know what you're thinking." He said, catching the look in Grill's eye. "Maybe it would be more comfortable if I chang-"

"NO." Again, Grill's voice echoed from the walls of the cavern. She balled her fists and planted them on her broad hips. "STAY AS YOU ARE."

He sighed, some part of him rankling at being ordered around by someone he could have squashed like an angry red bug. "Very well. How do you want to do this, then?"

Grill frowned, genuinely confused by his question. "Like Dragons, of course. Since that's what we are. How else are we going to do it?"

If he could have shrugged, Surinen surely would have done. "Apologies, but I'm not exactly well-versed in how these things, well, work in this shape."

She rolled her eyes and strode past him, her tail lashing back and forth in irritation as she went. "That's because you're an idiot. It's not difficult." Grill said. She shot him one last arrogant look over her shoulder, then dropped onto her knees and leaned forwards, bracing herself on all fours. Her tail danced in the air, leading Surinen's eye down towards the tight little ring of her ass and the soft, pink slit that lay between her muscular thighs. Despite her attitude, he felt his member twitch at the sight of her, exposed and ready, completely devoid of shame or pretense. There was something refreshingly honest about the woman, he thought. Human society was complex and confusing. Grill might have been short-tempered, greedy, and arrogant, but at least he knew where he was with her.

"Ah," he said, taking a few steps forwards, positioning his long, serpentine body above her own. His cock flopped down into the crevasse formed between her buttocks, drooling strings of precome onto the small of her scaly back."Like this? Like dogs?"

"LIKE DRAGONS, NUMBSKULL!" Grill pushed backwards, shuddering in anticipation as she felt Surinen's prick slide wetly along her body. The closeness of his belly forced her to bend her tail over uncomfortably, and she felt strangely hemmed in by the sight of Surinen's four sets of long, sharp claws arranged around her, but she would not - perhaps, given the needful, hollow feeling that had built in her body, could not - lose face by backing out now. 

He shifted above her, the hot weight pressed against her back sliding away, only to be replaced by something narrower butting clumsily against her thighs. "Should I just-?" He started.

"JUST STICK IT IN!" She bellowed in reply, cutting him off mid-sentence. Why did he have to be so irritatingly formal all the time? Why did he have to keep asking questions? Grill felt him prod against her buttocks, withdraw, then thrust along the inside of her thigh, the ridges that lay along the upper side of his cock dragging against her clit, forcing a half-cry, half-growl of need and frustration from her throat. "If you're doing that on purpose, I'll-"

This time, it was Surinen's turn to interrupt. "I can't see what I'm doing, you infuriating-" he cut himself off, anger rolling through his own thunderhead voice. His tail lashed behind him and he pawed in irritation at the ground. Two more unsuccessful thrusts followed, slapping against Grill's behind and sliding up against her pucker, before the third, finally, found its mark. 

There was a half-second of pressure against her entrance before Surinen's cock slammed home. The narrow head slipped easily past her wet, engorged lips, the fleshy frill springing out to catch against her inner walls and anchor him in place. It shoved deeper, sliding easily through the mixed wetness of his saliva and Grill's own arousal, filling her, stretching her, forcing the air from her lungs as the huge length of draconic prick battered its way through her defenses. She bellowed all the way through it, clawing at the floor for purchase as the force of Surinen's penetration shoved her forwards. She could feel every inch of the thing inside her, a throbbing, heavy weight that stabbed relentlessly into her heat, forcing her to screw her eyes shut against the sudden deluge of sensation that threatened to overwhelm her.

It was primal, animalistic, ferocious - even from such a weedy creature as Surinen. It was everything she wanted.

Grill could already imagine the cry of "Oh, I'm sorry! Did I hurt you?" forming in her partner's mind. "Again!" she rasped, shuddering as she pushed backwards against him, engulfing another inch of his reptilian cock with her body. It was tight, so very tight, and she could already feel a dull ache starting to build in her hindquarters, but she embraced it, rejoiced in it; for the first time in years she felt the touch of a partner that approached her own majesty. Surinen's belly pressed against her back, dragging through the slick mess of precome he had left there, letting her feel his heavy, panting breaths as they echoed around the cave. "Don't stop!"

He let out a rumbling growl of his own and withdrew, the sudden departure of his length from her body giving her a chance to catch her breath. She felt a sharp twinge of pleasure as his frill caught against the inside of her entrance before he thrust forwards a second time, driving the air from her lungs once more and spattering the ground below them with their mixed fluids. Grill flexed her back beneath him, a jagged, fanged grin breaking out across her face. She had missed this - missed the power, the aggression, the rough ferocity that was so lacking in the bipeds she had taken over the years. When Surinen withdrew a third time, she was ready, and met his thrust with one of her own, letting out an incoherent bellow of release as each motion flooded her scaly body with pleasure. 

"Come on!" She laughed exuberantly, "harder!"

"You are impossible." Surinen replied, though each word came was forced out between great, snorting breaths. He shifted position, his long body curling a little to the right, and planted one of his hind legs on Grill's back, physically pinning her in place as he levered his cock in and out of her prone body. His wings beat, kicking up loose pages of Linda's notes and sending clouds of inky smog billowing into the air, and crackles of blue lightning flashed between his bared fangs. "You are rude, you are boorish, you are - "

"In charge!" Grill snarled back. "Move that leg and you'll fucking regret it!"

She arched her back and yowled in pleasure has he pushed down on her harder, his claws pricking against her scales as he sought to tighten his grip. It was as if they were fighting as much as they were fucking - Surinen had physicality, while Grill had attitude, every one of her taunts only whipping her partner into driving his thick, hot prick into her deeper, or faster, or harder, which in turn only pushed her into verbally lashing him on further, like animals scrapping for dominance. This time, Grill could feel her climax coming, building inside her body with every mad, aching, ecstatic thrust Surinen tried to punish her with, swelling and expanding until it hung inside her like a lava-flow on the verge of eruption. Surinen, too, must have been reaching his peak; his thrusts were becoming steadily more erratic, his breaths shorter and faster, the slick mess of fluids that clung to her thighs becoming thicker and stringier with every pulse of precome that trickled into her body.

Exhaustion clawed at her, making her head spin. Grill did everything she could to force her building orgasm down, chewing madly at her lip and digging her claws into the palms of her hands. Every fiber of her body longed for release, but she would not give Surinen the satisfaction of seeing her finish first, no matter what. Their coupling had become a battle, or a competition, and it was one that she would not lose, even as her roars of ecstasy grew ever more hoarse. 
 
In the end, they came almost simultaneously. Surinen threw back his long neck and roared, pushing down so hard that Grill lost her grip on the floor and skidded forwards, pushed almost flat by the last, thunderous thrust into her body and pinned remorselessly in place. The swell of wonderful pressure trapped within her finally broke, and after denying herself for what felt like so long, she drank it in with all the avarice of her kind; denying herself nothing, Grill writhed and howled, grinning like a feral lunatic, relishing the sheer physicality of her release. 

Surinen's cock pulsed, each movement sending another burst of stimulation through her tired body as he pumped his thick, roiling seed deep into her. Grill let out a low groan as she felt herself flooded, filling her body with a heavy, wet heat that lapped against her inner walls and soothing the dull ache of the Dragon's penetration. Another sound, this one softer and tinged with relief, slipped her lips as the last aftershocks of her climax faded and Surinen began to withdraw. Long, pearly strings oozed from around her entrance as the huge slab of meat drew backwards, still twitching, still spurting more come into her battered body, as if he sought to fill up the space he had so recently vacated. The frill caught against her entrance one last time, pulling incessantly, and one last, small orgasm punched through her body as it finally popped free, releasing a torrent of draconic semen to spill down her thighs and mingle with the turgid pool beneath her.

The weight on her back vanished and Grill slumped forwards, collapsing onto the cool stone with a grateful hiss. She heard a distant crackle from behind her, like crumpled paper or the dying embers of a fire, and caught sight of motes of ash spilling through the air. Finally she turned, her body grumbling with aching complaints, and saw Surinen sitting amongst the disintegrating remains of his true body. His hair was lank and his thin, muscular body glistened with sweat, and he gave her a rather sheepish look.

"Well, that was, um. Interesting." He said. "I hope it was, er, satisfactory. As good for you as it was for me? Is that was you're supposed to say at times like this?"

Grill snorted. "Something like that. You can stay, if that's what you mean." She wobbled drunkenly as he stood, her tail held still out behind her for balance, and turned to make for her own lair. 

Surinen looked around him. As well as the mess of spilled fluids he and Grill had left, Linda's cavern was a hot mess of displaced paper and scattered books, not to mention the scattered remains of his transformation. "Er, excuse me? Grill? I'm sorry, but Isn't Linda going to be a little, well, put out when she comes back?"

Her only reply was a bored, indulgent yawn. "You deal with it." Grill called back, and stomped off out of sight down the corridor.

Surinen shook his head. "Like I said. Impossible." He muttered.