All along the coasts of the Crescent Lands, from Ajallabad, great trade city and capital of the Old Caliphate, to the sparkling city of Semistra at the Northeastern tip, tales are told of the great sailor and adventurer, Reis Ad-Deen. Called by some the "Old Captain", stories of his exploits and voyages are recited around many a mug of reed-beer, told to ward off the cold of long nights and pass the counting-time between fresh tides and strong winds. So common have these tales become, that it has become a tradition amongst some of the sailors on the Oceanus to compete in "tall-tale" contests, to see who can tell the most extravagant, epic and impossibly daring story of Reis and his adventures. Yet, for all this, it may suprise some to learn that there is a real man behind all the stories, that there were in fact, Seven Voyages of Reis, in which he gained (and lost) many a fortune, and explored the Thousand Isles of the Shattered Sea, the distant and alien coasts of the Long Shard, and even stole treasure(and hearts) from the fortified enclaves of the lords of the Oceanus, the sea elves themselves. By coincidence, I happened upon an old man who claimed to be Reis Ad-Deen, while I was on my way back from Parica in the North, returning to our beloved university in Ajallabad, Az-Alhar. He relayed to me perhaps the most outrageous stories of all, ones filled with quite frankly ribald and licentious material. Yet, something about his demeanour, the gleam in his aged eye, convinced me he was telling the truth. And so I lay out for you all here, as taken down from his own words, the Voyages of Reis-Ad Deen! -Passicus the Scribe, University of Az-Alhar ================================================================================================================================== Let me tell you Passy, no one ever became rich by sitting on their ass and waiting for the money to roll in. Not even the Merchants and Stock-Brokers, or the Great Kings and Princes. Every coin, every morsel of wealth and prosperity, came about by two great things: Good Fortune, and Fate. I have had my fair share of both. They sing my praises, yet the wealth I won I frequently lost, youthful folly or the simple winds of fate blowing once more against me. I went on Seven Voyages. Seven! Each time I ended them fat and greedy, and each time I began anew one I was hungry and poor. But...there is one thing the stories they tell me of don't tell. There is another kind of Wealth, another kind of Fortune, which I experienced on my Voyages. Every tale they tell of me has a princess or a king's daughter, its true, but even the lewdest pirate, the filthiest dock-gossip, can't begin to imagine the truth. You'll label this the Voyages of Reis Ad-Deen no doubt, but in truth, each tale is a story of the Seven Great Loves I had in my life. I suppose I ought to begin at the beginning. It was my twenty-first year. My father had been a modestly successful trader of spices on the High seas, and he had paid for my fine education at the Admiralty of the Pirs in Semistra. But I was a dissolute scholar, and I squandered my allowance and time on drink, whores and gambling. My father was coming to disinherit me, but he was swept away in an unseasonable storm, and so my chance to lose everything at his hand was brought forward. What little he willed to me I quickly put to use, enjoying one last night of spectacular debauchery. I remember it clearly, even now. Two buxom Nethians, dark-skinned beauties from the Ocean of Fire. I close my eyes, and I can still picture them both clearly. Average height, swarthy faces, breasts as big as watermelons, their nipples perky in the cold air, their skin glistening with aromatic oils. Each as naked as a babe, writhing about each other, licking and caressing one another while i watched, my last coin held firm in one hand, my erect cock in the other! I remember the mixture of scents, the aroma from the oils as they writhed together, her shuddering face as her partner lowered herself down to her snatch, a well-practised tongue delving into that dark beauty's honey-pot, wriggling about like a speared fish. I was stroking myself into a fury at the sight of it, the way her bubbly-butt wriggled as she ate her partner out, the cute moans they were making. Word must have gotten out somehow that I was on the verge of going completely broke, and against all probability my family, keen to ensure I could be of no further threat to my father's business, had sent some very nasty men to ensure my career at the Admiralty was cut short- permanently. I was just beginning to peak, the Nethian beauties squealing and moaning for all their worth, their oiled skin glistening in the lamplight, when two thugs burst into the room, waving scimitars and shouting for me. Well, I came pretty sharply in surprise, which must have startled the thugs somewhat, because I had time to grab my pants and dive out the window, tossing my last coin in thanks to the distinctly nonplussed Nethian Whores. Even when flat-broke and in pursuit for my life, I never forget to give my women their due. That, should you ever discover your balls again Passicus, is how you get to be a success with the ladies. Always pay them on time, no excuses! Evading the thugs, I quickly discovered that they were not the only ones hunting me. It seems the Admiralty also wanted me, and had alerted the town guard about a cadet gone AWOL, who in truth simply could not afford their elaborate and over-priced courses in nautical trivia anymore. So it was that I found myself racing across the roofs and canopies of Simestra, my pants in my hand and my cock in the wind, all manner of men at my back. I managed to make it to the docks, and hopped on to the ship that looked closest to sailing on the dawn tide. The luck of the Gods must indeed have been with me, for even though I must have made quite a sight, and the clamour of the guard must have been obvious, the captain decided to sail anyway, though his leers and smacked lips at the sight of my flaccid cock suggested I'd be paying my fare in quite another manner. I won't dwell on the horrid details too much, suffice to say that another key to being a success with the ladies is not being squeamish about being a success with the lords and men of power as-well. I am not too proud to admit I have lathered many a length in my quest for my true goal, the pearls in every woman's clam. The ship was bound for the west, into the Shattered Isles, haunt of corsairs, monsters, sea-elves and worse. The captain was on a whaling mission, and he had heard tale of a Great White Leviathan, said to reside amongst the isles, whose blubber he no doubt craved. Even in those days, the whale-oil trade was a lucrative one, especially with the mechanists. I, for one, was simply glad to be away from trouble. Despite my education, I was a poor sailor in those days, and spent more time polishing the mizzen-mast than I did climbing the rigging, if you catch my drift. For all its indignity, the Captain's berth was not uncomfortable, and I learned from him a thing or two about navigation, about the burdens of command, and some...whorish tricks that would, most improbably, serve me in good stead with a strange band of "women" in one of my later voyages. We were three weeks out from Simestra when things took a turn for the worse. The winds of fate, blowing me steadily to safety, now brought a storm. If the storm that had sunk my father's ship so recently had been a surprise, no true mariner would be astonished to learn that a great squall blew up, late in autumn, as we travelled west into the murky seas of the Shattered Isles. The Captain, to his credit, did everything right, heaving to and fastening himself- and us- to the deck with great, heavy ropes, riding out the heavy storm with gritted teeth. I remember that first, rollicking storm, the first- but by no means the last- time I would endure the stomach-churning, limb-freezing terror and pain of being at the mercy of the elements. The stench of salt clung to my nostrils, cold, drowning waves battering me, fraying the ropes, as i clung on with bleeding nails to the hardness of the mast. I was convinced my time was up, that soon the Waverider himself would claim me and drag me into the watery depths, to store my soul for all eternity in his great chest. But, even as those ropes binding me to the heaving, shaking ship were snapped, and a cry of terror issued from my lips, fortune once again turned in my favour. The great surge that buffeted me, swamping the ship, also carried me far away from the ship as it began to sink, ensuring that I was not pulled down with it. I must have blacked out after that, for I do not remember the hours I must have drifted on the sea, the sharks busy perhaps feasting on my former crew-members to worry about me. I awoke that next morning, the sky's greyness breaking, and a ray of dawn piercing to my eyes. I was lying face-up on the wet-sand, some strange and deserted isle. As I gathered my wits, and assessed my situation, it became clear that I was alive, and that if I was stay that way, I was going to have to adapt pretty quickly to my situation. After scouring the beach of its flotsam and jetsam for supplies, I then broke down on the higher ground, sobbing profusely. I was alone, far from home, and I had spent weeks at sea with a horny Captain. Truly, I felt, this was my lowest ebb. I closed my eyes, and tried to imagine that night with the Nethian Whores, their dark, ebony-skin glistening, their moans and slurps as they gratified one another, and I gratified myself. I must have gotten lost in the fantasy, for when I opened my eyes, my hands wrapped firmly around my member, I had entirely failed to notice the approach of someone new. She was barely ten paces away, and she must have heard my moans and seen my thrashing. She stared at me curiously, and I stared back. She was about five foot if she was an inch, and wore only the scantiest of loin-cloths, made from leaves and threaded string. Her smooth body was richly tanned, like the colour of chocolate, her eyes were a deep, piercing yellow-gold. Her hair was scraggly, matted, falling on to her shoulders, and seemed to be a dark jet-like colour. She was entirely topless, and completely flat. And yet, I found myself staring at her chest, her perky brown nipples, for all that there was simply nothing behind them. No, I can tell from your look that you have dark thoughts! No, I am not one such as you think. Though she was a girl in form, I could also tell, even then, that there was more to her than that. I have learned to trust my libido- its intuition is never wrong- and has never once steered me into hot waters. If there was something arousing about this scrawny, flat-chested young girl, then clearly there was something more to her than met the eye, which nonetheless my penis had sensed, and knew would be worth the attention. She blushed as she realised my gaze, and I realised how bad it must look, to be sat there in the stand, my sodden clothes in tatters, my manhood throbbing in my hands. "Um...this isn't what it looks like..." I began, and she giggled at that. "My wish came true!" she said, which knocked me back a bit. "Finally, after so long, they sent me a mate!" She ran forward, even as I hastened to put my prodder away, flustered. She hugged me, her soft, petite arms wrapping around me, giving off a strong scent of tropical fruit and exotic plants. I have been intimate with many before and since then, but I can say that that one, unexpected, sincere hug- well, it had me blushing! I was completely lost for words. "Its been so long..." she murmured, and I could feel that she was a hot one. Boiling, even! Through her tanned, soft skin, I could feel her heart beating, thundering like a battering ram against a gate, and her heat. It was like being hugged by an oven! I gently pushed her away. "My name is Reis Ad-Deen." I said. "Um...I don't know who you are, but I don't suppose you could help me find a ship back to Simestra? Or anywhere, for that matter." Her face rather fell at that. Her big, round eyes looked at me, quivering, and for a moment I was afraid she was going to cry, and I was going to have to try to comfort this awkward, topless young girl in a loincloth, my pecker still erect in my sodden pants. Instead, she sneezed, and a burst of fire came forth from her nose. It was then I realised where Fortune had brought me. I was sharing a deserted island with..a Dragon. ============================================================================================================================= That first day was the most awkward. It took quite some convincing to re-assure the young girl- who I was now terrified would burn me to a crisp when she inevitably assumed dragon-form- that I was not sent by the Gods, and that I was simply a shipwrecked sailor. "But what about your...?" she pointed to the bulge evident in my tattered pants. "Masthead?" she giggled at that. "Ah, it's...nothing, really. Nothing for a young girl like yourself to worry about." I hastily explained, blushing fiercely. At that young age, I had many foolish notions still, and whilst no virgin, it would still take me a few more years to get over conventional notions of propriety. I see that my talking about such things makes you blush furiously! Ah, would that you were not a Eunuch, Passy, and I would take you to a most wonderful place. I am wealthy still, and I can think of no finer use of my coin. But I am getting distracted again. The truth was, it proved quite difficult to explain, awkward as I was, precisely why I could not talk about my manhood, and why the girl's insistence on mating and needing a mate seemed quite unseemly to me at the time, for all that it was obvious to me that, despite everything I thought I knew about myself, I nonetheless found the nymphet-body of the nubile dragonet quite comely, for all that she lacked any breasts, had awkward babyfat around her hips, and only a small cute butt that I only infrequently glimpsed underneath her loincloth. Not that I was checking her out or anything! Except I was. "If grown-ups aren't supposed to get funny like that around kids, then how come your still hard?" she pointed out, which left me flustered. "It's just something I have to take care of myself. It's...It's nothing that need concern you!" I blurted, humiliated and embarrassed, and still standing there, wet and salty from the sea, and despite myself regarding this odd, quirky, yet warm dragon-girl with some degree of arousal. She pouted quite angrily at that. "Fine. Stay away from my Cave!" she said, yelling, and running off into the woods, apparently quite hurt to be rebuffed so rudely. Perhaps I had been more aggressive towards her than I realised at the time. In truth I was desperate to simply take stock of my situation, and find some way off that blasted tropical isle, for all that its other inhabitant seemed...over-friendly. After standing there dumb-founded for a few moments, I eventually gathered my wits, and, sighing, realised that there was little I could do to repair my relations with the dragonet at this time. She hadn't even told me her name, assuming she even had one. We kept to ourselves for the next few days, avoiding each other shyly in the sparse jungle. I quickly found the Cave she meant, a small, heated rocky defile in the central rocky rise around which the island had formed. I also found some hot springs, exactly opposite the Cave on the other side of the defile, and from there I found a clean source of water, as well as some sparse island life that I could consume. There was abundant fruit of course, but also a plethora of colourful birds and plenty of small lizards. At first I was squeamish about catching and eating the little iguanas, but after finding their charred bones around the place, I realised that, if they were good enough for the dragonet, they were probably good enough for me. Besides, one cannot live on Passion-fruit and Coconuts alone! As I wandered, I also kept my eyes open, assessing the flora and fauna, and keeping my eye on the horizons and the beach. The storm had cleared the sky, and it was not hard for me to quickly recover string and some basic tools from the flotsam of the wreck, with currents bringing it to this island the way it had brought me. Though I had been laid low and somewhat distracted the first day, the second I awoke with a keen resolve to escape. Although my name was probably still mud in Simestra, I was too used to the pleasures of the city and the flesh to accept so mediocre an exile, as lovely as the island was. I was broke, with not even a decent stitch of clothing to my person or name, yet even then I burned with ambition, determined to become fabulously wealthy. I slept beneath a crude canopy of stitched together leaves, though few animals bothered me. On the fourth day, I was awoken in a most unusual manner. As I stirred from sleep, having had some pleasant dream about those whores back in Simestra, I felt something stirring about my nether regions. At first I thought I might still be dreaming, and I sighed pleasantly, imagining those thick Nethian lips wrapped around my cock, those kohl-circled eyes of piercing green looking at me with an intense passion. I felt my member swell, and something soft wrapping around it, beginning to caress it up and down in a crude fashion. Then, realising I was awake, I feared it might be a snake or a tarantula! I yelled in fright, and leapt out of my crude lean-to, only to turn back and see it was none other than the dragonet. She was lying, somewhat miffed, over my sleeping space, her tanned bare chest now somewhat covered by a crude clam-bra that she had evidently made herself. Perhaps her hope was that by wearing such a bra it would appear like she had any sort of cleavage to hide or enhance, but if so the effort was wasted. I looked down, and found that my cock had been pulled out of my loose pants, and was somewhat wet. The little nymphet had been suckling me! I was shocked and appalled. "What do you think you are doing?" I yelled, perhaps more embarrassed than genuinely angry with her. She was after all, lonely, and I was possibly the only male she had seen, well, ever. "I saw you still had your problem, and wanted to help you out." she pouted again, looking at me with those big, round eyes. They had to be larger than human eyes I concluded, but not in a bug-like or disconcerting fashion. Simply...fuller, like pools full of honest and deep emotion. "You're too young to be doing things like that! Where did you even learn such things?" "I am NOT too young!" she fumed, snorting, a puff of thick black smoke coming out of her nostrils. "And my mother taught me while I was still an egg. She whispered to me in the shell, and told me how to please a mate when I found him." she grinned. "And I have." "I already told you, I wasn't sent by the go-" "Oh, I figured that already." she rolled her big eyes, kicking her little legs behind her impatiently. Her toes looked very stubby and cute, I remember thinking. Delicate yet hardened from walking barefoot on the island for years. It was funny how such details of her physicality kept leaping out at me, despite my protests. "But you're here, right? No funny-cloth-and-wood thingy on the waves to leave in?" She grinned evilly at me, revealing some cute fangs I hadn't noticed before. "Then I'm going to claim you!" she said. "Won't that be fun?" "No! Look, you've clearly lacked for proper moral upbringing here-" Yes, Passy, I can see your expression, a wastrel such as me really did try to instruct the poor dragonet on proper moral behaviour- "But it's just not proper for a young lady like yourself to go round uh..." "sucking on your willy?" she said, and I turned a bright beetroot at the casual, familiar way she said it. "You can't say things like that!" I blurted. "Listen, just...do whatever you usually do, eat lizards and berries and stuff. I'll work on building a raft and when you're older you can, I don't know, do the same or something. Or come with me and you can find others of your own kind, maybe?" I offered, though I had no intention of having a fire-puffer like this aboard a flimsy wooden raft. She frowned. "You can't leave! I wanna mate!" she pouted, stamping her foot, which I noticed had become claw-like and scaly. A sign perhaps of her true nature peeking through in her rage, no doubt. I hastened to reassure her, while trying also to avoid committing myself to something that would have the Judge of Deeds throwing my heart to the Devourer and casting my soul into the Void. Somehow, she took my reluctance as a sign that she needed to woo me, and over the next few days she would bring me gifts of flowers and fruit that she found about the island. "T-thanks?" I said quizzically, the first time she presented a bouquet of massive, foul-smelling jungle flowers to me. Anyone who thinks flowers smell sweet has never spent time in a jungle! These ones could really reek, and having them lying around my camp-site brought all manner of carrion-eaters and insects. I really did wake one morning with a tarantula on me, which made me shriek like a maiden on her wedding night, let me tell you! My efforts to build a raft had also been frustrating and slow. I had little to no experience in such craft, and finding the right materials was difficult, as was trying to hack wood from those thick, stubby trees with the rusted machete that I'd found on the beach one time. Had I not found that, i suspect my labour would have been even more arduous and fruitless. On the seventh day, growing irritated by the growing pile of flowers stacked outside my lean-to, and the swarm of tiny creatures now devouring everything in sight, I set out to find the dragonet and remonstrate with her. Curiously, she wasn't in her cave when I went. I explored her little home a bit, feeling somewhat ashamed trespassing in a child's private space. There was precious little there- cave paintings she had obviously done herself, showing sad scenes of a big dragon leaving a little dragon on the island, and then flying away into a big swirly black thing, which I could only conclude was one of the recent dire storms. I found also a chest, of all things, old and clearly warn. My greed got the better of me, and I opened it, to dry-mouthed wonder. It was packed full of ancient gold coins, and more than a few rubies and other lesser gemstones! It was like something out of a fairy-tale. How had a little dragon like this come by such an item, and enough wealth to build a small palace? There was some old, crumbling tablets stacked on top, written in some ancient tongue. I brushed them aside easily, eager to get at the gold. A shameful ambition came to me. I would take some of this gold with me when I left! But there was the problem of how to hide such treasure, and still it was unclear if my raft was even serviceable. With great reluctance, I let the coins slip from my fingers back into the pile. I closed the heavy chest, and looked around at this bare, if cosy, cave with mixed feelings. It was a lonely place, but it was also none of my business. For all that she looked like a child and acted like a wench, this creature, I forced myself to remember, was a Dragon, and not of this earthly realm. I had no business getting involved with the likes of her. I left the cave, before remembering my earlier reason for wishing to seek her out. I wondered where she might be? I searched briefly amongst the jungle, in case she was out hunting, before I grew tired, and returned to my lean-to, muttering and clearing the flowers away, dumping them in the sea, and using reeds to brush the insects out of my space as best I could. The next day, I awoke to the smell of rotting fish. The dragonet had dumped a quite infeasibly large pile of the stuff right outside my door! The stench was overpowering, and now gulls and other sea-birds were cawing and screeching, flapping around outside my meagre habitat. To add insult to injury, she had wrecked what little progress I had made on my raft, and scrawled in crude letters on the sand. YOU STAY This was the last straw. I was determined to find some way to get this little terror to leave me alone, and so I trudged off in search of her once more. Once again she seemed not to be in her cave, or out hunting. Then, an idea occurred to me. Was she...in the Hot Springs? It had never occurred to me before that, with winter approaching and the storm season on us, the colder, wetter environment might be uncomfortable for a creature such as her. I reluctantly set out for the Hot Springs, uncertain what I might find.... =============================================================================================================================== The Hot Springs were a part of the island I had not visited yet, though it had been easy to divine their existence from the steamy plumes rising from the jungle. Yet now as I headed towards those warm, muggy clouds, the atmosphere around me seemed to change, the dense undergrowth with all its many critters and hazards giving way to smooth, volcanic sands and well rounded rocks. Small lizards of various kinds sunned themselves on the rocks, diminutive cousins perhaps of the Draconic Race I now sought a member of. As the last of the trees faded behind me, I found myself in a vast clearing, the slopes of the mountain rising sheerly to my left, and a network of interlaced pools and springs lying in depressions in the rock and the soft sands. It was difficult to see to the other side of the Springs however, because of the heavy pall of steam-clouds and warm mist, broken by the occasional rumble of a geyser. But any human bathers would have to be wary, for I had read in my studies that inviting, warm pools in areas like this can easily become boiling lava death-traps for the unwary, before returning to their placid, inviting selves. Trepidation began to build in my breast, but I dismissed it at once. Though my anger had faded, my purpose had not. If she would not let me build a raft to leave this place, then I would have to find some way to convince her to let me leave another way. I walked carefully on the smooth, slippery rocks, taking care not to tread on any small lizards or other creatures that skittered about. All my concentration was so set on not falling into the Hot Springs that I barely noticed as I passed through the clouds of steam, and came face to face with her at last. She was not the size I had expected, or in the shape I remembered. A ten foot long Drake, smooth scaled, a pink hue in colour, two short stubby horns protruding from her brow-crest, two chubby little wings at her back. She lay supine in a shallow pool about thirty feet across, her tail flicking back and forth lazily, her eyelids closed, small puffs of contented steam arising from her cute nose. Do not mistake me for another kind of pervert, Passy! I find nothing interesting about the beasts. Yet, even as I gazed on this giant lizard in reprise, it was impossible to separate my impressions and perceptions. Though my eyes told me this was a Young dragon, I could also see the young girl in the shape before me. I had no sense of confronting a monster or a beast, but simply...her. There was something jarring and yet comforting about it, at the same time. I coughed politely, hoping to get her attention. It felt rather embarrassing to see her like this, as if she was...truly naked, in a way she hadn't been before. She did not stir. Reluctantly, I coughed as theatrically and loudly as possible. "Oi! Miss Dragon!" I finally yelled, since still she ignored my presence, and I had no idea of her name, if indeed she had one. She opened a reptilian eye lazily, as if stirring from a dream. Then she roared with apparent fright, leaping out of the water with clumsy speed, her wings flapping as her claws went to cover her modesty, her brow-crest flaring. I couldn't help but laugh, Gods help me Passy, to see a creature of such majesty and size act like well...a startled maiden in a bath-house! She glared at me furiously as she settled back down into the waters, dangerous puffs of smoke emanating from her nostrils. "What do you want, perv?" she said, her voice larger and louder, but still the same voice. It seemed for once I had discomforted her, and I sought to press the advantage now I had it. "You wanted me to stay? Well, here I am!" I announced jovially, a confidence I had not felt before filling my breast. If I was doomed to reside on this isle, or die by flame or talon, then I would meet it as I had met every other challenge in my life, without regret. She fluttered her scaly eyes at me. "Really? Um...Oh....It's just I'm...well...washing my scales..." she tried to sink lower into the pool, embarrassed, but her bulk and the shallowness of the pool prevented her. He shook his head. "You have nothing to be ashamed of, young one. In any case, you seem more mature like this." I said lightly. "We can converse as adults-" Her head shot up at this, and she bounded across the pool towards me, a disconcerting sight akin to being charged by mounted warriors in full-plate armour. I felt the soaking warmth of spring-water as she skidded to a halt, splashing and dousing me with the pool's contents as she did so. As I spluttered and blinked my eyes, the great beast was gone, and the little girl was there again before me, naked and proud, her dark skin shiny with moisture. "Silly perv! I can't do anything with you like that!" she giggled. "Even I know you'd be too small for me then!" She murred, before looking at me askew. "Unless you're one of those really weird perverts whose into scales..." "No no!" I insisted hastily. Gods forgive me, but given the choice between mating with a dragon and a child...well, as impossible as a choice as that was, I knew which would leave me hale and hearty afterwards, however immoral. I closed my eyes, pinched the bridge of my nose, and continued. "Look, Miss Dragon-" I began again. "Oh, you can call me Krassia. I think. Is that my name? Its a name!" she said brightly. Apparently she was far less embarassed being a nude child than a nude dragon. "Krassia. You have made your feelings plain. Well, let me make my own plain. I wish to leave this island." I looked her in the eye then, and I could see she was starting to grow angry again, before I spoke again. "We both have something the other wants. I propose a trade. I'll give you..." I shuddered a little inwardly. "Help, if you give me help." "Oooh, you're going to mate with me? But I thought you said-" "I know what I said." I replied, snappily. "But...let's...look, don't you wish you were with your own kind?" I tried valiantly. She paused, putting her finger to her mouth, as she made a show of thinking. "Mmm...maybe." "Then don't you think we could both leave this island together? You have wings, I've seen them-" Incredibly, she blushed at this, as If I had noticed something intimate about herself- "and together we could fly out of here, and find our own kinds likewise. You, a mate, and I my own people." She considered the idea for a while, then grinned from ear to ear. "You want to ride me, perv?" "Ah- Now hold on a second.." "Okay! One Dragon Ride, coming up!" she squealed happily, and before I could protest, she had leapt on to me, her petite body bringing me down to the sand, her thin, scrawny legs pinning me with the strength and weight of a much larger creature. It would have looked comical to any who observed me, I assure you. I began to protest. "There's no need for this-" She put her little fingers to my mouth, and i felt the warmth in them, as indeed the warmth and vitality flowed through her thighs as they straddled me, and I began to fill my own loins harden with unexpected and inhuman ardour. "Hush, silly. I need to be an adult to fly anyway." She explained mysteriously. "So hurry up and mate with me already, jeez! I won't tell your silly perv friends you fucked a kiddy anyway." She once again shocked me with this display of hitherto absent worldliness, or perhaps she had simply sussed my fears out. I have heard Dragons are possessed of uncommon wisdom. And so, my First Voyage began. I had had other women before, of course, but in my mind this was to be the First of Seven times I met a woman- all right, a female- whose ardour and experience with me would be unlike anything else I could ever experience. Do not mistake me. I did not love merely seven females, or orgasm only seven times in my life. But these Seven matings, these times of bonding, were unique in the co-mixture of the two. ============================================================================================================================== It must seem strange to you, Passy, who has never even tasted a regular woman, to understand how a man can come to be straddled and fucked by someone who looks like a child. Yet, I tell you, it was an indescribably magnificent feeling. I shall try nonetheless, to explain it. She pulled my loincloth away easily with taloned fingers, a look of lascivious hunger on her face, her bright eyes holding some of the feral being I had seen earlier. She murred cutely, a deep rumbling sound that no mere girl could ever make. Yet as she rubbed herself, her thick, warm thighs pressing against my sides, I could feel ripples of current passing between us, a connection that only two lovers could make. "Mmmm...Reis..." she said, her childlike voice breaking, as she felt for the first time what I had known before. She seemed confused for a moment, her dark mocha skin flushing crimson, as she tried to make sense of the feelings in her. I gently comforted her, turning her attention back to me, to the moment. My reluctance and irritation faded, and I looked into those yellow feral eyes, and focused on them. Though they had a spark of innocence, it was easier to see them as the eyes of an adult, sapient being, rather than a human child. Thus, Having committed to the course ahead, I was determined not to let my nascent reputation down. No Virgin will ever regret their first time with me, though none before or since had ever looked so young. My rough hands reached up, stroking and rubbing her warm, dark skin, rising up her chubby, childlike hips and across her flat chest. My hands smoothed her all too human skin, silky and oh so warm and full of charge. I felt her peaked nipples, two perky black berries, ripe for the plucking. I felt all over, caressing, massaging her, feeling her body vibrate and quiver against mine. It seemed now she had pinned me she wasn't quite sure what to do next. She murred and melted beneath my touch, grateful for the sensations, and for someone taking charge. She knew with adult clarity what she wanted, but she lacked the knowledge to get it. She nonetheless threw away my loincloth, still dangling from her sharp fingers, her talons retracting as she took to caressing something of mine in response. I felt her pretty little fingers coil, serpent-like, around my aroused manhood, and begin their own clumsy, but satisfying, caressing of their own. I felt myself stiffen further, heat pouring into my groin, and I leaned up, kissing her gentle blackberry buds, my tongue teasing her areolae, letting her little pointy apertures rise further in arousal. She seemed confused by the sensations, perhaps because as a Dragon she was not supposed to have mammaries, yet the joy of feeling even immature ones toyed with still penetrated her reptilian brain. I ran my other hand down her back, feeling her patches of scales, caressing her delicate rump, so soft, so small, so squishy and full. I couldn't help but squeeze those pretty little butt-cheeks, bringing a cute little squeal from Krassia. I felt a bump on her tail-bone, and through careful caressing was able to encourage her to sprout a cute little version of her tail, a slender, smooth tail that seemed quite flexible, despite being proportioned better for her human body. She continued to jerk my own tail somewhat clumsy, so I repeated her motions on her tail. She growled at the sudden pain, but seemed to get the message, and began to copy my own steady, rhythmic motions, as I jerked her tail as if it was a cock, and she repeated the motions upon myself. I continued to suckle at her flat breasts, my teeth gently nibbling on her hardened nipples, my tongue circling them, teasing undeveloped nerves and sending ripples of warmth back into her. I could hear and feel her great heart beating, a furnace of power and majesty that dominated even this human body, for it was the core of her being. As she got the hang of stimulating me, I let her tail alone, and ran down further, between her cute perky butt-cheeks, and began to feel her underside. I guided her lightly, raising her up. "You wanted me to Ride you?" I teased lightly to her. She began to reply, but I quickly grabbed her by the butt-cheeks with both hands, and dropped her on to the tip of my waiting shaft. I had barely worked even part of my way in before she let out a shuddering squeal. "AAH! That hurts!" She yelped, like a wounded cat. I tutted at her. "A big dragon like you is scared of something like this?" She frowned at me, and I could tell I was playing with literal fire here. But, grudgingly, she allowed me to continue to slowly work my length into her. By the gods, she was tight! Her cave here was tighter and moister than any mountain under-passage. I struggled to push my length even up to the bell inside, before suddenly resistance broke, and with a painfully loud roar from her, I was through. I felt slick blood running down my cock, and I was sure that I had taken this great creature's virginity. The thought left me dizzy in a way no normal maidenhood would. I had done something perhaps unique in all the world. Yet I had barely even begun. I began to squirm beneath her weight, wiggling my hips and my butt as best I could in the soft sands around us. I encouraged her to wiggle her hips likewise, trying to teach her how to move herself, to get rythym going. She occasionally growled and winced at the pain, but remarkably quickly her body adjusted, and I found myself sliding deeper inside her impossibly tight crevice, thick slime warmly encasing my shaft as I slid out and in. My hands were not idle during all this. I caressed her butt-cheeks, guiding her, supporting her back, and occasionally giving her sinuous tail a long, sensual stroke, which set her back arching satisfactorily. The noises she made were like music to my ears, less like a maiden's and more like a beast, catlike one moment and powerfully reptilian the next. I wrapped my arms around her, feeling her great heartbeat blazing away between us, like embracing a volcano. She sighed dreamily. One can only speculate how long she had fantasised about something like this. Unwashed sailor though I was, I was determined to make it memorable. Even as sand rode up into my crevices, her hips and crotch grinding me down, I would lurch upwards, two writhing, energetic forces. I felt myself being squeezed like a vice grip, her deep, wet cunny having more muscles than a human woman's, giving me quite a unique massage as I pounded her. I looked her in the eyes, knowing that eye contact has a weight on women, and she seemed to appreciate how much attention I was paying to her, my hands dancing across her smooth, velvet skin, her bare nubs kneaded and massaged like clay. I felt my insides burning the way my skin did, the urge to climax strong- for it had been days since I had done so, masturbation all but impossible with Krassia around- but I held on. She then did something I hadn't expected. She bit me. I yelped in pain, and my manhood tightened, aching for release yet somehow zipped shut, even as I rodgered her jolly. Her fangs were pint-sized, nothing like the sword-shaped man-tearers she had in dragon-form, but still they left their mark, and I felt a little of my blood trickling down my shoulder. I was too lost in the rut to care. I pushed her back on to the sand now, taking charge, my hips slamming against hers, my balls slapping against her cute butt and wiggling tail, which tried to find some space between our legs, before she was able to swing it out of the way. By the gods, I was deep in her, her vagina and womb must have been disproportionately big for one so pint-sized. Even as my pre-cum trickled out of her tight slit, I knew that I would not be allowed to cum before she was ready. Her vaginal walls seemed to clamp down like a vice once again, hard enough to restrain me but not so hard as to cause real injury. She gave me a mischievous grin. "Mom taught me some fun stuff before she left." Krassia giggled. I wondered how in the Heavens a Dragon might teach something like -this- to her daughter, or why. A mystery I lay awake at night pondering about sometimes, Passy, let me tell you! Finally, the little dragoness seemed ready, her whole body shivering beneath me, our sweat and saliva and other fluids sticky between us, our impressions made in the sand. She scrunched up her cute little eyes. "Ah...perv...Reis...I'm...I'm...." she let out an ear-splitting roar, shaking the ground as she arched her back, almost throwing me off of her as she shook with her first orgasm. A tidal gush of fluids erupted from her tiny pussy, her eyes seeming to roll back in her head, her tongue lolling with a look of the most pure euphoria. For one so young, she had clearly been waiting and ready a long time for something like this. I assure you, Passy, it is no easy thing to make it good for a woman on her first time! Even as I felt my throbbing manhood slide out of her gushing slit, the release in pressure set off my own torrent, my balls seeming to sag with relief as I came like a prize stud, soaking her slit and thighs in my eruptive seed. I fell backwards, exhausted, drained completely by the love-making. This was nothing like I had expected. For a virgin she had had all the skill and stamina of a first-rate Nethian Whore. I wish I could take all the credit for her climax, but it was not so. I staggered over to where the dragon-girl lay. I watched as she slowly expanded, scales hardening across her chocolate-skin, overlaying them in bright red-pink hue, as she returned to her true form, my seed still dripping from her slit and along her scaled, knobbly legs. She seemed to curl up there on the sands, by the side of the Hot Springs, and I reluctantly went forward and gave her a reassuring hug, though full grown destriers covered in war-plate would have been easier for me to embrace. I do not know if she felt my straining effort to encompass her neck, or felt the light kiss I placed on her snout, but she seemed to shiver in contentment. They say one should not disturb sleeping dragons, and I knew I was not going to get anything out of her this day, but I felt equally that leaving would send a bad message. Not that I have ever hesitated to leave a sleeping woman, but this one had wings and talons and firey breath, which made me quite strangely receptive to post-coital snuggling. So, with reluctance, I lay myself beside her great heaving bulk, though by draconic standards she was lithe and comely still. Certainly I could admire her, as something beyond mere animals or even us mortals. My sleep was to prove a restful one, and despite the heat and the discomfort of our location we managed both of us to sleep all the way through to the following dawn. ================================================================================================= Mmm? Oh, you wanted to know what happened next? Ah, but Passy, can't you see an old man needs his rest? Oh very well. There isn't much to tell...well, nothing juicy like that. We made love on and off for a few days- ok maybe there was something juicy- and all the while she grew ever more ravenously hungry, stripping the island bare of food and vegetation, as she matured almost overnight from a scrawny ten year old girl to a comely sixteen year old, and in dragon-form she must have been a good twenty-five feet long from snout to tail tip. It seemed that being iniatiated into her draconic puberty required a little push from a mate, and the lack of any older male to give her that nudge on the island had kept her in draconic childhood for a long time, so once the dam was broken it all came flowing out. I, however, managed to lose weight. By the gods she exhausted me, and there was little food left to nourish me after she was done. It was clearly time for us both to leave. She would fly me to the nearest inhabited island, but she was unsure where or what to go next. The poor girl wondered if she could come with me. In truth, I enjoyed our love-making, and wouldn't have minded, but the next island we arrived at turned out to be where I would make my First Fortune...and oh, Passy, it is to my eternal shame that when forced to make a choice between the bird in the hand and the dream of a yet finer flock, I have always chased my dreams. And see where it has led me! A magnificent manor-house, to be sure. The admiration of men across the Oceanus, the fear of its beasts, and the amour of any whore or woman I please. But notice also, how cold my hearth is, and how quiet these halls are when you and I are not speaking. Do I regret my adventures? Not at all. But I do still wonder, perhaps, if out there somewhere still is a red dragon, with the body of a young woman, skin like chocolate, lips like fire and nipples like succulent black-berries... ================================================================================================================= At this point, I am afraid to say, our narrator took to staring forlornly out the window at the lapping sea, perhaps dreaming of this mythic dragon-girl. He had been drinking heavily all night, and being old, I judged him likely both senile and completely inebriated, so I put up my writing kit and extinguished the candle, and bid him good-night. But as I turned to leave, there was I swear a moment when I could feel the night-air grow unexpectedly warm, and I could almost feel the beat of something like heavy wings over the house. Whatever the truth of this man's tall tales, I knew they would be worth listening to again.