FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Chapter 6

She hated this fucking city.

Most of all she hated all those rats that dare to call themselves people.

Every step she made was paid with an accidental bump and rub, fuckheads believing that she didn't knew better, all of them always wanted the same thing, to get under her tail.

She would kill them all, she slowly began that process already, but it was uncle that told her not to do so, not when she was still miles from fulfilling her plan

He was right.

For now she had to tolerate the presence of those rotting peasants that could do nothing else but make attempts to grope her and leer. Fucktards were only capable of this primitive absorption, they were unable to deal with the company of someone superior like herself.

A long time ago she lived in a castle, there people knew what standards and courtesy meant, nobility understood boundaries. Understood what they are allowed to do and what they aren't.

These stinky shit eaters had no sense of order, unable to comprehend higher standards. They were worms slithering over the crappers they call homes and crying and yelling all the time, believing that their voices are more valuable than a bum's burp.

Only royalty knew the importance of cries and yells, they were the ones leaving the court either beaming with smiles or drowning with tears. No matter what the result was, the decision that they managed to force, or failed to present properly influenced their lands, dynasties and all sorts of important occupations.

Bitter tears, but valuable, tears that only highborn blood like herself could understand.

Those motherfuckers kept yelling and crying all the fucking time, not knowing how to shut up, naively believing that somebody gives a crap about them. To her their cries were nothing more than farts shooting from a shit riddled asshole.

They also stunk the same.

The worst part of it was their directed their rotten mugs towards her, as if believing she is like one of them.

Fucking horny morons.

Among filth it didn't matter what kind of sex tried to get its greasy hands on her, they all wanted a piece of her for herself. Female or male didn't matter, all were hungry for the exotic, a taste only someone like her had. Craving nothing else but to find out just how tight she is.

The constant accidental rubbing and bumping was all the evidence she needed.

Withering bugs thinking with nothing but their cocks, whether or not they had it between their legs didn't matter. Filth is filth , you don't classify shit, all of it stinks the same.

Like all those things that dare to call themselves people.

Stupid motherfuckers, it made her furious that the whores that were their mothers didn't trip on some sleazy crap that could be literal dump or their mate, there was no difference, when they were pregnant and crushed the bag of garbage they called babies in an explosion of blood.

Dirt should stay in the dirt.

When it came to her, and she is a creature that many seen as goddess, the behavior of nobility was as disgusting.

The difference was that there was a clear line between the approach of males and females.

Male nobles as usual instead of their brains they used their cocks. In contrary to the shitfaces they knew what modesty meant. All of those fuckers put up a mask, even when she wasn't experienced in such dealings all that time ago, she simply felt that they were false. All that bowing, all that worship and pleas were nothing else but exercises for their dicks which they desired to bury inside her to the very hilt if only she paid them any sort of attention.

The females weren't so bold, they instead refrained to conspiring between themselves. Of all those stomach turning attempts to gain her favor, this was the one she liked the most. She liked to see these bitches angry stares and constantly moving maws, creating and spreading more rumors about her.

It made her feel powerful, important and so fucking triumphant, in the end they wanted to fuck her, but it was her that ravaged their assess.

What she didn't expect to find in all that mess was exception.

That sweet, weak, meek, genuine exception.

The males used all attempts to gain her attention, many times resulting to pleas and begs, no matter what they did however they always wore that mask and behind it always hid pride and arrogance. She knew that if she would accept one such manner of wooing one day all that pride and arrogance would resurface and make her into nothing but its fucktoy.

That would be their vengeance.

The definition of which she understood when she met that cute exception.

In a place where everyone guarded their manners, behaving exactly to the unwritten rules of the court, there was that one boy that was shy and seemed to trip over his own tail. Out of place, adoringly dorky, basically genuine.

It was almost funny just how quickly she forgot about all those manners, courtesy and banquets that gave her so much fun before. All that seriousness unimportant in the face of authenticity.

Authenticity that taught her what it means to love.

Authenticity that taught her what it means to feel pain after it shatters your heart.

Of all the things she expected, she never believed that genuineness can be just a shell.

Thinking of it right now, the comparison of her lover to a husk was strangely prosaic.

It was authenticity that showed her that no matter what social stature you have your blood is of the same color.

It was authenticity that showed her that people crave the unreachable and when it finally lands in their grasp they have no remorse about using it as they please.

It was authenticity that showed her that the forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest and people just can't hold themselves back from tasting it.

It was authenticity that showed her that showed her that even a princess can become a whore.

It was authenticity that showed her what it means to be a murderer.

It was authenticity that showed her what it means to hate.

It was authenticity that showed her what it means to want revenge.

And the fucker, who's name is not worth mentioning, is right here.

It didn't matter that he looked differently, uncle told her that the shit wears many faces. It made no sense at the beginning, it was impossible that the fucker who's name is worthless was in a completely different body.

But uncle kept pressing, repeating over and over again that this is where she will taste what it means to have revenge.

Turned out uncle was right.

The nagging finally got on her nerves and she decided to test it out, as idiotic as it might have been. To her surprise it worked, one well timed swing of tail, one prolonged stretch, one kick of the butt and one flashed out wiggle of the thigh and he was hers.

The motherfucker was hers.

He was following her around ever since.

This time she was experienced enough to see through him, he wasn't wearing any mask, instead being led directly by his dick. He didn't even bother to hide it the impudent fuck, following her around as if she was his promised prize which he's going to abuse when he gets his flimsy paws on her.

The fucker was everything that she hated.

This time however she knew what he was up to, she sees his true expression.

This time you piece of shit you will be the one who's going to be used.

You're going to be the toy.

When she will finally be done with him, he will regret that he was born in the first place.

After all this time he will finally learn how it feels like to have all that experience authenticity showed her shoved down his throat.

She was aware of her figure, many considered her to be a goddess and for a good reason, she knew her physical allure was exceptional, she had a mirror and eyes. It didn't stop the idiots however. All these horny bastards spurred compliment after compliment about her beauty, unaware fools thinking that if you keep swinging the lever of an already moving lift you will make it go faster.

Idiocy she will use against them.

First however she needs to take the matters in her own paws and take on a role(shell) that she hated, a role(shell) that was like a void, sucking out everything and leaving nothing but pain and disgust.

In all that blackness there was no one else, but herself, all that pain and abhorrence slamming into her like the life that scarred her. The shattered pieces of her heart breaking into even smaller shards that no jeweler, even a master of his arts, would be able to put back together.

Every snap a cold whip of numbing emptiness.

There was nothing inside the girl she saw, she was merely a husk, as empty as the skulls of males.

She knocked at the void, it was time for a show.

This was the last time you fucked me today dickface.

Iris jerked her wings, stretching the right one a little in front of her snout just as she was about to make a turn around the nearby corner. She nibbled at the feathery membrane, trained teeth momentarily locating the most uneven feather that was beyond saving and plucking it out. She groomed the irritated spot with a few licks of tongue.

Exactly like father taught her.

She blinked when she finished her turn, the diamond eyes that appeared from underneath the white eyelids were no longer as cold as the blizzard that howls near her home in the mountains.

It was a beautiful place, after descending the many steps of Warfang's smooth staircases she finally reached what was the craftsman district. It was her favorite place in the city, you don't see such passion in the court, everything up there in the castle is toned down and controlled, there is no room for a little pinch of insanity and willingness to break the norm.

It was wonderful, but here, this place, it seemed like a different world.

She always snuck away from the castle when she got the opportunity, mother was smart and probably knew about her escapades, no matter how careful she tried to be. The only reason why she still didn't forbade her from leaving the court was the fact that she remembered her lessons.

She knew that a princess shouldn't be seen among the common folk, not only it ruins the competency of the royal guard, but also threatens her well-being. Even loyal subjects who's love for their masters knows no bounds can make that unfortunate step that will cause harm, even if the intentions were good.

This is why she always put heavy clothes on herself whenever she left the castle to obscure her royal heritage, mother always told her that if she would never be able to hide herself in a crowd, she would be standing out from the mob like a dragonfly among flies.

Today she decided to wear the clothes that were her scales, people treated her like she was one of them, ignoring her most the time, maximally giving her brief, curious glances.

It was so nice to be invisible, to be a no one once in a while, being a princess is great and all, but all this adoration eventually gets tiring, it was nice to remind yourself sometimes that she was just blood and flesh like everyone else.

Besides the people, she liked this place also for another reason, the noises of work. In the castle you hardly hear the sound of manual labor, the workers in the castle usually tend to do everything discreet and when there are hardly any people around as to not irritate them.

She found nothing wrong with the noise of labor, especially the one that is the price of creation. Seeing passion come to reality, created from nothing else, but vision was extremely interesting, especially for someone like her who gets everything already finished, most of the time in advance.

She strolled through the district, it was a bit smaller than the usual area of her city called Warfang. At least small from a visitor perspective, if she would measure it in true units this particular district would be one of the biggest one, located at the bottom level of the city.

The perspective of littleness was a result of the street project the areas where people could travel was limited.

All the workshops that were also market stalls were a5 part of the walls, the interiors carved into the foundations of the stretched city, mostly the only pieces of a workshop that stood out into the street were the roofs. The district was one big road, through the middle ran the widest of streets, used for cart traffic, planned in such a way that it was most of the time disconnected from mundane, citizen routes. Only in several places, usually on turns the pathway for the carts was cut with a little, brightly colored stone that served as a bridge for people to get from one side of the district to the other.

At both sides of the main, big road ran smaller streets, those strictly connected with the workshops, the two main routes for the curious crowds.

Segments of the main path curved in the direction of each building and ran up across a ramp that went somewhere into the wall, creating some sort of an archway. It was an idea of a brilliant mind to make something like this, every cart that was ready to transport the goods left the workshops through those ramps, running above the walking people and not interrupting them in their daily business.

She didn't know much about engineering, but she knew a thing or two about admiring décor, and if there was ever a beauty contest in the manner of evaluating engineering ideas, the craftsman district would surely be on the list of favorites.

She had to admit as a girl who knew how to appreciate fashion that the mosaics carved on the ramps, illuminated by many different gems which during nightfall glimmered like mysterious will-o'-the-wisp in the swamps were truly a work of art.

She strolled forward, looking around curiously, people were far more welcoming than she might have thought, royalty or not they knew how to behave. If there were whispering about her, she could bet that at least some did, they were trying to hide it. She didn't blame them, as long as they keep this modesty and manner of civility they can stare and whisper all they want.

She had an aura about her as mother said, whether it was charisma or authority it was hard to tell, one thing was for certain, no matter where she goes and how hard she tries to blend in, she will always draw interested glances.

It was okay, as a princess she was used to attention and can act normally in the face of it.

She stopped at the nearby workshop, from the looks of it was producing furniture, there were some closets on display near the stall. One better than the other, she couldn't fill her eyes with enough enjoyment.

"Ah!" a thrilled shout came from inside the doorstep to the workshop, a small figure appeared, obscured by the shadow cast by the roof "A demanding eye I see!" the figure stepped forward, light of the district casting its rays on his mole figure "How can I help my-"

The mole's voice unexpectedly froze in his throat, blinded by the amount of grace he saw in front of him. Clawed hand rose to the goggles, rearranging them together with the helmet on top of the head. He adjusted the strength of the light, making it a little brighter.

He wasn't seeing things.

The draconic, blue girl was not out of this world, her charm heart stopping and the sweet, beautiful smile stretching her lips was sin worthy. He was sure if he had a year or two more he would drop dead right here and now.

He wouldn't mind.

If an angel like that stepped down to take him to the Ancestors he wouldn't have any regrets about leaving this earth.

Successful business or not.

"M-My lady?" his hoarse mumble was choking

The mole cleared his throat, rearranged the helmet on top of his head, a helmet that was very important for his expertise, he himself invented a little device that helped in keeping it steady and allowed to adjust the strength of the light. It was always a perfect fit.

Right now, he simply knew there was something wrong with it and had to correct it. Just like he straightened his grey shirt and brown pants, at the same time cleaning off whatever wood splinter got stuck in the material. The thick brown apron he was wearing received the same treatment with an addition of rearranging the tools sticking out from the pockets in a relative order.

He never done something like that, he was a merchant, yes, but also a true master of his craft, not to mention that he was a mole. As a working mole there was no bigger pride to show of to your customers just how much work you put into your craft, honest job done by yourself is the doctrine that every mole follows.

Not in the presence of an angel however.

It was a little pitiful that no matter how strong and proud you might be, in the face of attraction you become a meek bird, presenting your outfit as best as possible like a peacock brandishing its feathers.

Hoping that you will be noticed.

As if hearing his plea the beautiful blue dragoness looked at him, her eyes were indescribable. If there was ever a soul to be seen in them, then he was sure he was seeing one right now, the purity and charm radiating from them warmed your heart.

He had a wife and three children, he loved all of them dearly, right now however when he looked into those shimmering, white eyes for a brief moment he got lost in the sweet oblivion of affection. For a second he fell in love with this heavenly girl.

The soothing smile she was giving him made him realize that she was aware of his affection, the modest trail of shinning, white teeth empowering the effect. She was humbled and grateful for his attention, he could taste sweet honey on his tongue on the mere thought of that. At the same time her graceful expression was lulling him back into reality, into the embrace of his wife and his place on earth, thanking him for this fond feeling and sharing loving goodbyes, where she was going he couldn't follow.

She was a goddess for sure.

A young Ancestor that stepped down from the stars.

The pretty girl turned her head, focusing her gaze back on his craftsmanship, she made her way towards the display, examining it.

He felt young again and so much embarrassed. All this time he believed that the pieces he set up for display were true art, best he could come up with. Now, when he examined their features to the dragonesses godlike figure he couldn't think about anything else but covering them all up and huddling somewhere in a dark corner, sucking on the thumb.

All of it was garbage next to her.

He remained still however, he was a worker at heart and every worker carriers a spark of artistic sensitivity. It was that sensitivity that woke his passion, making it burst with powerful flames.

That girl was a muse.

Flashes of future projects immediately glistened before his eyes, one better than the other, finding the perfect bend, the perfect curve, all adjustments based on the godly figure of his recent client.

He would never reach this amount of perfection, but it would still be something.

His creations, no matter how close they would be to reflecting her charm, would never be compared to her. He would never catch her soul, that part was impossible to duplicate.

He was happy because of it.

Divinity shouldn't be tampered with.

"Your work Sir is wonderful" Iris stated cheerfully, making a circle around one of the closets that was just a bit higher than her. Her evaluating gaze ran from top to bottom, she leaned her head gently forward, nose bouncing as she took quick whiffs of the furniture's pleasant smell

The touch of the district did nothing to the pleasing scent of wood it was emanating.

In any other circumstance when a probable customer would show admiration of his work he would stuff his hands in his pockets, fiddling with one of the wrenches as he would puff out his chest and approached the potential buyer, bestowing him with all technical knowledge that would make his brain fizzle, of course with necessary tact, while at the same time making him look as the mastermind behind drawers production.

Right now however he felt nothing but sincere demure.

"Thank you my lady" he stated shyly, bowing gently "Is there anything in particular you are looking for?"

The dragonesses three him a loving, shy glance.

"Could I feed my eyes with this sight for a while?"

He gasped in startled fear, taking a step back and bowing apologetically.

"N-Naturally, if you need me, I'll be right here at my small working station" he gestured at the said table that stood next to the doorstep into the workshop

Knives of all sorts dotted the covered in wood splinters table, most of them stuck into the small blue overblanket that was spread across it. All manner of figurines laid on the work station, some finished, some not, depicting all sorts of creatures and machines. He carved them for his family whenever he had a break, or customers were perusing his wares on a less busy time of day like now.

Right now however he just sat there and observed the dragonesses, simply couldn't take his eyes off of her. It didn't bother him at all that at this distance his naturally weak, mole eyes slightly distorted her figure. She was still perfect to him.

Iris moved to another piece of furniture, a nightstand, giving it the examination style like the previous one. The difference being in the squeaky gasp escaping her throat when she again started to inhale the scent, the weight of someone's eyes reminding her roughly just how inappropriate she is.

"I apologize" she exclaimed startled, jumping back and smacking her paw against her mouth, wide, startled wide eyes aimed themselves at the owner "I didn't mean to sniff and be so rude"

"No!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands forward and jumping up from his chair, he was more frightened than her, something that was obvious to read since he tripped over one of the chair's legs

"It's nothing!" he reassured the girl as he fell forward, only the stall in front which he gripped tightly prevented him from crushing his nose into the ground

"You can smell the furniture!" he straightened up, the helmet on his head tilted to the side, the light aimed somewhere else, making him blind as a result

"Really?" Iris asked shyly

"Of course!" he tried to sound cheerful, ignoring the pain in his ankle "You have a beautiful, sensitive nose, smell of my work is part of its charm"

His eyes widened when he heard the words of his spoken sentence echo inside his skull.

He could already hear his wife calling him a pervert.

"As a dragon I mean!" he shouted defensively "As a dragon, you have a beautiful, sensitive nose because you are a dragon" he sighed in relief "Yes. Precisely. This workshop aims to satisfy all senses, emphasizing the most sensitive ones for each specie"

The girl flashed a smile that would stop every war.

"Thank you, I really like the scent of wood" Iris modestly sniffed at the nearby closet "The scent is really beaten down in the castle I live in"

"Oh?" the mole readjusted his helmet "You live in a castle?"

She winked at him, gently cringing.

"This was supposed to be a secret"

"No harm done! We get plenty folks around here from different part of the Realms. There aren't many castles around though. From which one do you come from if I may ask?"

The girl knew how to split attention, it was surprising that she answered him seeing as she was really engrossed in admiring his work.

"The closest one, right up the hill outside"

He frowned, impulsively looking outside and up the stretching walls of Warfang, on the level above them there was nothing else, but living districts. Beyond that he couldn't see, even if he could he was certain that there was no castle in Warfang or anywhere in close vicinity.

Besides that castles are relicts now, besides the fortress in Dante's Freezer all other castles are mostly ruins. Hardly anyone would dream of living in one.

The pretty girl had to confuse some facts.

"Do you have bigger sizes?" she spoke up when he was about to clarify things

The mole balked, the vein of a merchant stirring his brain on the right course after hearing one of the special passwords. He proudly puffed his chest out and tucked his hands into his pockets, clenching one of the many tools as a reassurance of his skills.

"For dragon of every size" he loftily announced "Naturally the bigger examples are kept in the storage, whatever you see here my lady is available in fully grown dragon size to satisfy every client. Delivered to your home in two working days, every special wish is fulfilled directly in the factory. The services we provide are noted in the pamphlet"

Iris acknowledged the information with an appreciative nod.

"I'll come back when the deadline for the gift I'm planning to give will be nearing the end" the white eyes of the dragonesses landed on him once more

A shiver ran through his spine as he looked into the graceful, kind eyes. In this moment he knew that he would give her everything she asked for.

"In the meantime I'm looking for some candle holders"

"Of course!" he gestured at the door to his workshop, politely inviting the dragonesses inside with a gentle bow "Please, come inside"

"Thank you" her appreciation made him smile, as she passed through him, even if he was happily married he couldn't help himself from throwing the attractive an examining glance of her figure, especially the backside

He quickly composed himself when his heart stung, reminding him that he has a family. He followed the girl inside, occupying his eyes with anything, but the dragonesses.

"Big or small?" words just slipped from his mouth

Iris looked behind her shoulder with a confused frown on a single brow.

"Sorry?"

He felt the hand of his wife smacking him across the face. He was truly a pervert.

"The candle holders!" he exclaimed defensively, gesturing nervously at the surrounding furniture, most that he pointed at had nothing to do with illuminating a room

"Are you looking for a chandelier or some small lamp to cast a light on your desk?"

"A small one for a nightstand"

"Perfect!" his arms calmed down, now only one remained in the air, pointing at a table in the corner where rows of different examples of small candle holders presented themselves

"Please, take a look"

Iris stopped in front of the table, tail making soft swings as her eyes traveled from one piece to the next. She took her time to examine each of them, all of them were pretty, but there was one that caught her attention more than the others.

The candle holder was made from some dark wood, a mere look was enough to tell that the tree from which it was created is strong and thick. Her attention was also drawn to its uneven shape, it was curved gently, as if it would receive gentle punches from each side several times across its whole length. The surface of the candle holder sprouted also small ridges, like thorns on a rose's stalk.

She liked it.

"I'll take this one" Iris pointed at her chosen merchandise

"Excellent choice" as a true merchant the mole congratulated the girl her wonderful taste "It will be-"

"Oh no!" the young girl exclaimed in horror, looking herself over and patting whatever part of her body she could reach, making in the meantime small circles in one place

"Did I come with a belt here?"

"No, you didn't"

"Darn it!" she stomped her pretty paw against the floor "It must have slipped from my waist and I didn't even feel it! Why didn't I listen to my mom? She always told me that liking fashion doesn't make me a true designer. She was right of course, she is always right, why did I tried to prove her wrong?"

With a devastated groan her feathery wings slumped down, smacking into the ground when her butt dropped in defeat. She sat on the ground with a depressed sigh plucking at the feathers.

"All my money was in that bag" she mumbled in embarrassed defeat

His heart cracked at the sight of this sad, hurt girl. He felt impossibly guilty, she was absolutely adorable when she plucked her feathers like that, this made him even more sad. A beautiful angel like that defeated, all because she couldn't afford one of his wares.

"Take it" the words burst from his throat automatically

The dragonesses looked up at him, surprised.

"Excuse me?"

His words resounded inside his head, his merchant's soul should scream at him for suggesting something like that, but it was silent. That girl is a godsend, an Ancestor, he was a mole, it was his sacred duty to worship such divine creatures.

One of those creatures was here, in the flesh, the least he can do is to offer her a simple gift.

"Take it please" he picked up the candle holder and offered it to her

The girl's white eyes were huge, they were jumping between his extended hands and his face.

"I can't take this" she stammered

"I insist" he smiled, trying to match in grace the smiles she gave him today, he didn't need a mirror to tell that he failed miserably "It's on sale anyway"

"But why Sir? We don't even know each other"

When this time he spotted the dragonesses lips stretching into a thin smile, he became quite sure that to some degree he managed to reach her kind grace.

"Good deeds are not reserved for friends only" immediately he started wrapping the picked merchandise in protective blankets and stuffing it in one of the satchels that are truly a gift to customers of draconic origin

"I don't know what to say" her beautiful, accented voice cracked, only now he realized that perfection even reached as far as the vocal cords

"Nothing my lady" he started to adjust the strap to fit comfortably the type of figure of his customer

He was really taking his time, deep down feeling that this moment was spectacular because of far more important things than personal attraction. Something in his heart told him that this moment will never repeat itself again he will never see such grace again.

The scariest thought however was not that of his personal loss, he was afraid that there will be no one remembering this beautiful girl in the whole world.

The owner of the soul included.

He felt as if this whole encounter with this special girl is like looking at the distorted reflection dancing on the surface of the water. Ripples sometimes making it incredibly pleasant.

Yet so very, very brief and fragile.

They said their goodbyes far quicker than he wished for, just as the lovely girl was leaving his workshop, with the satchel so nicely hanging from her flank, more clients invaded his store.

He barely recorded their presence.

He waved the dragonesses away, stepping out from the doorstep of his workshop, oblivious to his surroundings, eyes focused on the slowly disappearing form of the dragonesses. Moles didn't see at such length anymore, but somehow he could pick her silhouette perfectly.

An angel.

He got shoved suddenly, someone purposely smacked him in the shoulder as he was passing by. He gasped and tottered forward, barely recovering his balance, when he looked up he met the gaze of a cheetah. The feline was grinning at him, he was missing two lower front teeth.

Thumb arrogantly pressed against the flexed chest as he continued to sway forward.

"That ass belongs to me!" he chirped triumphantly, the thumb poking at the chest as to show he wasn't kidding

He needed a while to readjust his sight after the shove, no matter how vivid the world around him became, the form of the cheetah was still a blur.

As if he was a fading memory of a person that recently died.

Somehow he's felt that the cheetah will soon join the chorus of ghosts for real.

He had no intention of warning him.

*

Her head just didn't want to stop moving, all this commotion, all this noise, all this...everything was so fascinating. In the castle everything seems to flow according to a specific order, here however it seemed that they were no rules, everyone was living their own life and spicing up the already quite heavily boiling chaos.

Being here, among the common people made her consider what wealth truly means, they can have everything in the castle, mother fulfills her every wish, but is it really being rich? They have all that fancy stuff up there, but it has to be made somewhere right?

She felt that this was the truth wealth, to do something you like, be good at it and distribute it everywhere. You produce something that some people, like her for example, pay backpacks of gems for it. Multiply that for every piece you have ready in storage.

Now this is passion.

This is what she would call being rich.

Speaking of riches, her eyes were drawn to a very familiar glimmer, only one kind of material stung with such a fierce, yellow light.

Gold.

She would recognize this shimmer everywhere, she loved golden jewelry, why mother always presented her with such gifts on occasions. Like this one here fo-

The bracelet on her leg was gone.

Fear immediately crept in her bones, paw momentarily shot up towards the horns, sure that she will feel the jewelry there.

The two bracelets there were also gone.

Something was wrong.

Something isn't right.

This is not real.

This part is dead.

Dead.

Dead.

Dead.

She giggled unexpectedly.

Of course!

She must have left them in her quarters! She snuck out after all, flashing expensive jewelry into the face of all these people wouldn't be a good tactic, especially when she tries to stay incognito.

She would make a lousy spy.

Still, the bracelets were gone and this opened up an opportunity to take a little at the stall without being seen as some pampered prude.

Her eyes grew wide and a quiet exhale of Wow! left her lips. Golden rays danced across her white pupils as her eyes ran over the many glassy containers, each and every one housing a beautiful piece of gold jewelry , some adorned with pretty, colorful gems.

"Welcome to my store lady!" a cheerful, youthful greeting burst from the right the owner just finishing supplying a happy customer

"See anything you like?" it was a mole female, a young one, the goggles she was wearing were gold and made of many strange, little contraptions that seemed to live on their own, constantly shifting the dimension and focus of the lenses

The rodent flashed a broad grin, she had a single gold tooth in the corner of her mouth. It glimmered with the same teasing strength as her yelp, knowing precisely that she had her hooked.

"From where do I start?" she exhaled another panting breath, longing mist appearing on the glass

"Refrain from the drooling if you can, it takes a while to make the glass shine again" the mole giggled

She balked, the friendly reprimand shoving her back into her senses.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be rude"

"Relax!" the rodent leaned over the desk and patted her shoulder comfortingly "I was just kidding. We girls are pretty, there's no crime in liking pretty things" she winked "It takes one to know one"

She smiled kindly at the merchant. You hardly see such energy at the court, it was a nice change of pace. Everyone here felt so natural.

The mole let out a prolonged whistle, emitting a tune of clear appreciation.

"Just by looking at you I can tell that all of my babies would throw themselves at you the moment I would open the caskets. And it still wouldn't be enough to tell the truth. Damn girl, did some genius sculpted and reanimated you? Those curves! I'm jealous!"

She felt a blush creeping onto her cheeks, she put a paw on her nose and crunch it to cover herself.

"I'm sorry!" the girl yelped "I didn't mean to intimidate you. I'm kinds expressive and talk a lot, especially in the face of beauty. A jeweler's curse, apologize"

"It's okay" she collected herself with a chuckle "I'm not used to such bluntness"

"Let me make it up for you!" the rodent grinned, her weird helmet chirping happily "Say, you're looking for a job? Because I'm hiring and let me tell you I'm really picky about hiring helpers"

"I know nothing about jewelry"

"Who says you have to work? All you would have to do is to stand here where I am standing right now and smile. I would do the rest"

She offered the merchant an apologetic, loving grin.

"Tempting, but I must decline"

"You sure? We would be riiiiiiich"

"I'm sure, thank you"

The mole clapped her hands weakly.

"Oh well, I had to try. Wanna buy something to cheer me up?"

Her eyes landed back on the caskets, a sad sigh leaving her mouth as she examined the merchandise.

"I would love three bracelets, but-"

"Bracelets! No problem!" the echo of the storekeep voice didn't managed to fade away completely and she had already everything prepared

In a blink of an eye she jumped to the side, reaching the most sideways corner of her stall and grabbed a casket, putting it down right in front of them on the stall right when the last tone of the last spoken letter was devoured by the wind.

"Toes, claws, tails, come in all shapes and sizes, fit everything. It's gold, but not pure, looks fancy tho and is extremely cheap. Let me tell you as an expert in these matters that you really don't need anything else. With these on, you already threat to break some unfortunate lonely boy's heart, we dress you up in anything more stylish and we will have a war on our heads"

"...but I don't have any money" Iris finished sadly

The mole merchant shook her head, smacking her lips playfully.

"Always the same thing with you dragons, you always think that you deserve everything for free, clever buggers running on reputation. Using us poor, devoted moles"

She swallowed, feeling completely overwhelmed, she wanted to blend in, not cause strife.

"I didn't mean-"

"I'm kidding!" the mole leaned over the counter again, giving her a reassuring clap on the shoulder "Don't be so stiff. Tell you what, I'll cut you a deal, I won't feed myself on worship alone unfortunately. I'll paw you all three of my babies for mere three red gems, half the price for each! They'll be waiting for you here, I'm sure a pretty face like yourself won't have troubles getting them. Just flash that brilliant smile at some poor bastard and..."

"On my account!" the mole's eyes went wide when her train of thought was interrupted by a sudden, rough male blare

Three red gems rolled down the counter, stopping right in front of her long claws.

Her head rose up, the already big eyes grew even bigger when she laid her sight on the generous guy. As a mole she was aware that her species aren't a work of art, whoever is responsible for creation of races had to daze off when he was tinkering with her race when the time came to add some points in glamour.

But oh boy, that guy was one ugly motherfucker.

When she spoke of poor bastards she didn't expect Fate to send a literal example their way.

The cheetah was grinning broadly, all would be cool, if not for the two massive holes in his bottom row of teeth and some black infection slowly spreading from the gums enveloping the neck of his fangs.

Not to mention that an eyeball in one of his eyes had some traumatic disorder, it was constantly shaking and bouncing off the walls of his eye as if it was a mentally ill prisoner booping from one wall of his cell to the other.

There was also that disgusting red growth on his upper lip that was the size of a miniature, round testicle. With how low it hanged from the surface of the lip she wondered if a dick would grow from inside the mouth if there would be anyone crazy enough to fondle that thing.

Patches of his fur were missing, as if burnt out, especially on his arms, the face however wasn't without damage either. It was hard to tell if more of the fur was hit too due to the amount of thick, working clothes the abomination wore.

The stench that surrounded him was horrible.

He was the example of a typical, brainless shovel pusher, whatever he earned he spent on booze and attempts to buy into favor of women. Already having tales of how rough he fucked them and made them scream, didn't matter that he never lied a finger on any of them.

Of course hygiene was as foreign to him as intellect.

Girl's favorite combination.

"Why?" Iris mumbled, her shocked gaze landing on the unexpected, benevolent stranger

The cheetah leaned over the stall, thrusting his elbow into the counter, all of the caskets rattled in agony, cocky grin never leaving his mouth.

"Hey! Watch it!"

"For you baby, this is what matters" he licked his lips when the hoarse, horny groan left his throat, completely ignoring the shouting rodent

"I don't-"

"You don't have to take it" the merchant mole grumbled, interrupting the startled dragonesses

"Shut your mouth rodent and take the money" the cheetah growled at the storekeep "I'm buying, do your job or should I call the guards?"

The mechanism on the mole's helmet started to squeak, as if a horde of ants would raise an alarm. Guards would mean a scar on her business, people jump to conclusions way too quick, when people see law at your doorstep they get suspicious. Suspicion meant bankruptcy.

She had her hands tied.

Maybe she would protest if the girl wouldn't be a dragonesses, if things would become too much for the girl, she was certain that the white eyed chick is capable enough to bite off this ugly head.

She gathered up the gems, never before their touch made her flinch.

"The bracelets are yours" she announced with the intensity of a healer giving her patient the news of him suffering on an incurable disease

"My gift for you Sweetcheeks" the mole's squinted in abhorrence eyes moved towards the cheetah, judging by the tilt of his head and aiming downwards eyes she could guess what sweet cheeks he had in mind

She rolled her eyes, growling with repulsion.

Iris gathered up the bracelets "I don't have any way to repay you" she began locking the jewelry around her horns, when she was done she bend over, working on her right paw

The cheetah scratched his crotch conspicuously, dirty mind already forming sexy images in his mind.

"Pig" the mole grumbled

"How about a kiss?" he breathed with lascivious intention

Click.

Last bracelet was in place.

With it came the stench of something burning.

In the distance echoed the screams of warriors killing each other.

Smacking noises of spilled guts pulsed like veins pumping blood.

Above all of it stood the fucker who turned her into a killer.

Into a kinslayer.

A fucker who made her murder her own mother.

Iris pushed up from the bending position and planted a soft, thankful kiss on the cheetah's lips.

A spasm ran through the mole's body, fists clenched into tights fists, she gagged, jerking her head fiercely to the side. The chick kissed the dude right into the third testicle, with the eyes of her imagination she could already see a sick, oozing with disease cock pushing from his mouth instead of the tongue.

"What the fuck?" she groaned in abhorrence, her blare quenched down by her contracting throat, she couldn't believe this just happened

She wasn't the only one in this matter.

The cocky cheetah seemed to lose somewhere his invisible douche cape. His knees buckled, the he leaned against that once served as a foundation for his ego, now was his real support, without it the cat would fall nose first on the ground.

The lively orb in one of his eyes stopped moving, instantly healed, it couldn't unglue itself from the sexy snout of this hot chick that kissed him.

The guys at the job will never believe him!

"Is this enough?" Iris whispered, her voice full of meaningful desire

He didn't know what to say, probably for the first time in his life, his head quaked in place, couldn't decide if it should nod or shake.

"I thought so too" she turned around dragging her tail sensually in between the feline's legs, rubbing erotically against the bulge there.

The cheetah bounced up, letting out a squeaky yelp as if someone just stepped on his tail.

"Come, I know a different way how can I repay you" she continued forward, walking in an alluring way, a style only a female is capable of achieving

His heart thudded inside his chest, the pants becoming too tight all of a sudden. He observed the swaying hips of the hottie, growling and drooling at the same time. She bounced that sweet butt like there's no tomorrow, sensual sway of tail uncovering every essential curve.

Those thighs!

That ass!

He chased after her, male ego already telling him he was getting lucky today.

Holy crap!

He told the guys he had it in him! He's going to screw that chick until she will be drowning in his cum.

He scratched his junk, already unbuttoning the belt slightly.

Holy fuck he was so horny!

This is it, he's going balls deep in that blue, succulent ass today.

The merchant mole slammed her hands into the desk, leaning over it to observe the slowly shrinking pair, her mouth was wide open, she didn't even feel when a drop of spit of some passersby cough got inside her throat.

She couldn't wrap her head around what just happened.

Such innocent girl.

What the hell was that spark though?

Did anyone see the glimmer in the girl's eyes when she kissed that idiot?

It was like staring into the eyes of an merciless winter that has no remorse about turning to ice innocent babies.

It was so fucking scary.

She felt pity for the guy all of a sudden, she wished that by some magical mean his limited intellect will receive a spark of enlightenment and make him aware that girls like that don't throw themselves at someone like you out of gratitude, or any other mean except if raising tail for every dick out there is their job.

Things don't happen so fast.

They simply don't.

She hoped, maybe prayed even at some point that the feline will open his eyes and see through it.

Because if not...

She felt that whatever will happen next won't be for people with vivid imagination and weak stomach.

*

"Holy shit darling, you know your way around people" he gulped down another swig of wine, his greasy, rough with all sorts of bumps palm never stopping massaging her thigh

"Stop it" she yelped bashfully, putting her own bottle to her mouth, she wrapped the idiot tightly around her claw, to the point that he didn't notice that her bottle was filled with clear water

Water that was basically a block of ice by now, only small droplets were trickling down onto her tongue. The moron was too horny to notice that the aura around her got unnaturally cold, that layers of frost covered the bottle she was holding, that her eyes were like soulless, cold, sharp diamonds.

Nothing changed.

The males were always hers whenever she offered them a bit of her slender flesh, their dicks in an instant sucking out every bit of sanity, making them oblivious to everything but her.

Fucking filth.

The bracelets tightened their grip, it was a sign that she won't be able to keep the ruse any longer.

The longer he massaged her thigh, the stronger the urge to bite off his fingers became.

She wanted to end all of it right here and now, more and more realizing that this is pointless and leads to nowhere.

Shouldn't vengeance taste sweet, just like uncle promised?

What's wrong with her?

She balked when suddenly the hand on her thigh moved down her rump, squeezed into the space between her haunches and tail and groped her ass.

With great difficulty she quenched the growl and urge to tear apart the tattered furry throat next to her.

"Babe, you're so hot" with a luscious leer he intensified the clench, a purr rumbled within his throat at the sensation of feeling his whole hand with that voluptuous, fleshy dragon ass

The wine he swallowed never tasted sweeter, the feeling of the fleshy ass in his palm entirely silenced the warning signals about the funny taste of the wine he had in the beginning.

He had so much experience with booze that he could tell the difference between a good alcohol and a bad one.

With such an ass in his hand, this wine became suddenly perfect, turning from shit to divine.

They were sitting in front of a small, horizontal table, a tree next to them casting a small shadow on their spot. This particular table belonged to a nearby joint, she didn't care about its name, tables such as this one were set all around the place, serving as a perfect relaxation spot for all these working people and visitors.

She hated it already, the stench of alcohol was making her blood boil, she hated the smell. It was poison that turns dickheads into brainless dickheads, she would encase this place in ice if she could.

Right now there was something else pissing her off more than this dump. It was the fact that this table had chairs, she, as a dragonesses doesn't need one, but the repulsive betrayer of course sat on the ground like an uncivilized barbarian. Only because this position allowed him to grab her ass comfortingly.

Wings are part of a dragon's body that usually don't hurt, much at least, except in some very dire situations of course, the general rule is that if your wings are healthy and not under attack they don't hurt.

Her right wing did however.

She kept it slightly opened, the groomed feathers perfectly blossoming in the gentle breeze, she thrust the wing into the earth, pressing it against the ground strongly. The stings shooting through the bone were slowly making her mad.

She didn't let it to flinch, she won't allow all those worthless bugs to see that one of them is molesting her.

She felt a strong squeeze on her butt cheek, the traitor groaning in excitement next to her, taking another swig and leaning in for a kiss.

All she could think about was the sound his eyeballs will make when she'll finally pop them.

She pushed away from him, trying to maintain a casual expression. She hated booze, she remembered every day when Ignus was drunk, it was repulsive.

Despite her hate towards alcohol, she regretted in this very moment that her bottle didn't contain wine. For a brief second it would make it all a little more tolerable.

"We're in public" she hissed, pretending to drink, boiling with fury whisper cracking the bottle from the inside, her feathers fluttered in irritation, standing on end like hooks, as if thinking they were actual spikes ready to strike

"I want you so bad" the betrayer's purr cracked under the pressure of uncontrollable lust, he leaned even closer, the hand sliding along her cheek, slowly reaching the spot where butt ended and crotch began

Impatiently she looked around the table stands, what the blind with desire fuck failed to realize was that the wine bottles were already here when they came. During this peak hours nobody from the service of this joint noticed that the table wasn't cleaned, people sat at the table and were drinking, everything was in perfect order.

Everyone was unaware that the guy who placed these bottles here was a big dragon with a flaming tail blade in the form of a scythe.

She waited for the damn signal, seriously at the brink of her patience. Uncle was right to forbid her from deciding when it was the time to begin the final act of this play, she would end it way before the herbs started working and ruin all the pleasure of vengeance.

Every game has a limit, there was a point in all this play she wouldn't be able to take any more and the flea bag was were close to reaching that point.

She swore to herself that if he slips those callous fingers inside her she will clench her muscles so hard that she will sever his fingers.

The signal wasn't there yet.

"Not here" she growled coldly, dropping onto her tail, trapping the moving hand under the weight of her rump "People are watching"

The cheetah snarled in irritation, with difficulty pulling his hand from underneath her. He took a frustrated swig, emptying the remnants of his second wine bottle in one, big gulp.

"I want to fuck you so bad" he wiped his mouth, he smacked the wet hand into her thigh and gave it a hard squeeze

"Let's get out of here babe" he grinned at her, his breath smelled rotten, little pools of red wine swirled inside the holes where he was missing two of his teeth

"Let me finish first" she titled the bottle, pressing the cold neck to even colder lips

The stomach turning grin grew wider, the claws on the groping hand scratched her playfully.

Her tail made an annoyed flick.

"Only if you're going to be a good girl"

Males.

Of course.

Blockheads thinking only with their dicks.

She rose her tired eyes, the most beautiful view filled her sigh.

Her uncle's tail sent a flaming spark into the air.

"I promise" she reached underneath the table, one swift move of claws was enough to tear apart the strap that held two red gems

She slammed the money onto the wooden top and got up immediately, with great satisfaction and relief slapping the sleazy hand off her thigh as she pulled herself up.

She didn't have to say anything, the horny fucker getting right up behind her, not even wondering from where she suddenly got the gems. She maintained the alluring style of walk, she could hear his hot, rough breathing so she didn't even bother to turn around.

Sway of slender hips a perfect hypnotize charm.

"Can we do it at the lake?"

"I'll rock your world wherever you want baby"

Dick.

He followed her like a zombie all the way through the streets and through the gates out of the city, she didn't walk fast, as much as he hated the noise of drooling and the occasional slap, she kept the charade going. Feeding herself on the satisfaction she felt, it was about the fucking time she got her payback on that manipulating shit.

She toyed with him this time.

And it felt fantastic, not the fact that the horny bastard felt for her charm, exciting was the perspective of holding something so tightly that a mere flick of the claw was enough to change the fate of whatever she was holding. For a second she forgot about revenge entirely, triumphant because of the sole fact that she was the one dealing the cards.

Having control.

She didn't know why it felt so damn important.

The luscious, aggressive pinch on the base of her tail however threw all those thoughts out of the window.

Sharp teeth pushed from her lips, a vicious snarl wrinkling the nose. She didn't dream of anything else right now, but ripping the assmucus to shreds.

More time has passed, gentle breeze of crashing water filled her skull, they were here finally.

Trees surrounded this little place, they weren't far from the city, but far enough to make its walls shrink a little.

She stopped.

Inhaling a deep breath, fresh air never before was so intoxicating.

The cheetah bumped into her, with an instinctive reaction propping himself on her back to avoid toppling down.

Without looking behind she raised her hind paw, pressing the soft sole of her draconic foot directly against the bulge in the male's crotch, she strained her leg muscles gently and delicately pushed the feline away. With her clawed paw on his sensitive junk he complied to her nudge without protest.

When he was far away she dropped her paw on the soft earth and bent over, lowering her weight onto her forelegs while kicking her butt up in the air. Flinging the blue tail up, keeping it hanging above her back.

"We're here" she purred, her accented voice deep and seductive, empowering the unchaste exhibition her beguiling, body created

He stared at the chick with huge, lust filled eyes, admiring her divine figure and already playing all sort of scenarios inside his head about wrecking it in every possible way. The tension in his pants became painful.

Reached agony actually when he noticed the broad's paw slinking down her underbelly reaching towards the tail. The move was so fucking hot that he began to pant, tongue perfectly adjusting itself on the fleshy bed of his gums right where he once had two teeth.

He whined, unable to take it any longer when one of the silvery claws sunk gently into the white scales, tasting the surface of the usually hidden draconic pussy.

He didn't know how long it all lasted, for him it was all the eternity, he had to take the matters into his own cock or he is going to explode.

Growling lustfully he began chaotically fiddling with the belt that seemed tighter than ever, his hands having a hard time getting rid off it, unable to win with the suddenly very complicating mechanism his claws sunk into the material of the pants and tore them apart.

A wet, snapping sound filled his ears, they flattened on his skull.

He was certain it was his rocking hard erection piercing though the material of his undergarments. When he looked down however there was nothing there besides dripping red tears coloring the grass almost right in between his feet.

He never expected that the noise was made by the snapping tendons in the back of his knees.

Time slowed down suddenly, everything became distant, except the ground, it was growing with a steady pace, to the point that he landed face first on it, not even supporting himself. He broke his nose on impact, blood filled his throat.

He started to scream way before his mind managed to process the sound. When that happened the pain that shot through his body was hot as coal, his whole body was hit by vicious spasms.

Why?

Everything was going so damn well.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuck!" the cheetah howled, twisting his bloodied face, scraping his cheek against the rough ground

A red, big, draconic paw crushed the grass right in front of his eyes.

"This is what I'm going to do about it" a low grumble echoed next to the pointy, furry ear, it sounded as if Murder itself would speak to him

"You?!" the feline cried out when his pained senses recognized the red snout of the dragon who towered above him

"I'm glad you found out" Ignus stepped away from the fallen cat, sitting behind the stretched body he flicked his tail close to the mouth, quenching the flames and licking off the blood from the very tip

The cheetah tried to get up, legs were unresponsive, they stung like burning twigs. Veins snapped in his eyes, feeling the eyeball with blood, immediately becoming aware of what has happened the moment they focused on the cleaning himself dragon and the line of blood flowing from the back of both his legs.

"You cut my legs" lips twitched with pain and regret, voice not louder than a whisper of confession "You cut my legs" the voice grew louder "You cut my legs!" even more louder "You CUT my legs!" and even more louder

"YOU CUT MY LEGS! YOU CUT MY LEGS! YOU FUCKING CUT MY LEGS! WHAT THE FUCK?! YOU CUT MY LEGS! WHY?! WHY?! WHY?! WHY DID YOU CUT MY LEGS?!"

The horror filled tirade ended with the cheetah whizzing for breath like a person who got saved from drowning. His eyes were bulging, the broken veins in his eyes pulsing like arteries.

"Why did you do that dude?"

Ignus looked away, in all of his years on this planet he had seen people reacting to pain and approaching death in all sorts of ways, because even if you didn't acknowledge it yet, deep down you knew what's coming and the most scary part was that you couldn't do anything about it.

People react in many ways.

The cat opted for a horrified shock and pitiful devastation combination.

Probably the most hated by him, he preferred people to stay assholes till the end, all that emotion and kind sorrow reminded him too much of his sister.

Regret was the last thing he needed.

"ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY YOU OLD PRICK?!"

He sighed deeply, turning his callous attention at the raging feline.

He felt so much better now.

"YOU'RE GOING TO PAY FOR THIS YOU SHIT! YOU'RE GOING TO PRISON! I WILL TELL EVERYONE ABOUT IT, THEY WILL HAVE YOUR HEAD!"

"Nobody will hear your screams" a satchel dropped on the ground in front of the cheetah

Something heavy tumbled inside.

He was more terrified of the low voice however, so similar to the grumbles of his drunk mates. All the anger vanished when he laid his eyes on the dragonesses in front of him.

He didn't recognize her, for fuck's sake, he didn't recognize her.

The body was the same, but the snout, the eyes, they belonged to a demon. She wasn't looking at him, but through him, the pain was suddenly unimportant, rendered worthless in the face of his very soul trembling in fear.

Those eyes were empty, distant and so fucking cold that it looked like she would be made of winter alone inside.

He was nothing to her, a stain on the pavement of her hellish palace, she scrubbed clean many stains like him, to her it was nothing more than tedious chore.

"Babe?" he mumbled, lips shaking into a weak smile "It's me"

"We know who you are" the same deep grumble, callous and steady

"We waited so long for this"

She was reciting, it occurred to him suddenly, she was reciting.

"B-Babe?"

Iris' sharp claws tore the satchel apart, ripping a huge hole in it. With the eye of his terrified imagination the cheetah saw his opened belly and guts spilling from the inside.

"So many dreamed about you, wondering how you would feel" she reached into the satchel, pulling out a candle holder from the inside

His eyes immediately landed on the thick, wooden object, scanning every spike and ridge. Head immediately beginning to shake in pitiful denial, the realization of the situation slowly creeping inside his brain.

He is going to die.

"No, no, no, no, no" he mumbled, gripping to the refusal of acknowledgment of this situation as hard as he could

"We will finally find out" she stepped over him, keeping the candle holder in her paw

He observed the dragonesses with wide, terrified eyes, heart of his pressed to the earth chest nearly bursting from his body.

"What are you doing?" she sat down, his bloodied thighs in between her legs

She threw her clawed paw up, her blades curled for a strike.

Fear pumped more air into his lungs.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" he blared, crawling away in panic

The paw went down sharply.

He screamed.

The noise of pants being ripped filled the air.

The cold lashes of wind on his exposed ass froze him in place.

He remained unresponsive to the tugs at the remains of his pants as she pulled them down his legs.

Iris rose the candle holder in the air, aiming the tip right at his butt.

This was the moment when everything became clear, it came to him quickly, mind unexpectedly reaching the highs of enlightenment, connection with the girl's subconscious.

She was going to rape him with that ridged, wooden dick.

"DON'T DO IT YOU CRAZY BITCH! STOP! STOP IT!" his startled eyes landed on the observing this scene, indifferent red dragon "STOP HER! FOR FUCK'S SAKE, STOP HER!"

There was no response from either of them.

He started crying, didn't know when, he didn't care, with last ounces of survival will he started to thrash and crawl away.

"This can't be happening, this can't be happening, this can't be happening"

A paw slammed into his back, pinning him to the ground.

"You better hold on to something darling, this might sting a little" another one of those terrifying chants

"STOP IT YOU SLUT!" he thrashed around,, with no feeling in his legs and with the crushing him paw he could do nothing else, but to twist his upper body, enough to make eye contact with the dragonesses on top of him

"LET ME GO! PLEASE!"

Iris blinked, when the eyes opened again there was no longer that demonic presence in them, instead they were gleaming with cold fury that would shred him if it could.

He didn't know what was better.

She leaned in, basically lied down on him, her chin on top of his head.

He trembled fiercely, the aura surrounding her was freezing his bones.

"You will feel my pain. Finally my treacherous lover" she nuzzled the pinned down cat and pushed back

She rose the candle holder in the air.

"NO!" he wailed

She smacked her second paw on his ass and spread his right butt cheek.

The stretch filled him with unimaginable terror.

"NO! YOU CRAZY WHORE! DO-"

Iris thrust.

He screamed.

The object was too big to fit in between the cheeks, no matter the spread. The rough wood scraped the skin, no amount of fur was able to quench the pain. The sharp edged piece had no troubles cutting the skin.

The lacerations were deep, yet the blood merely trickled, most of it being dry already.

It was working.

Whatever she could say about Ignus, she had to admit he knew his way around mixtures that prolong suffering. Seems like all those years as a commander finally paid off.

The fucker's wine was poisoned, as Ignus said this was a mixture of herbs that put the consumer in a heightened state of consciousness. A favorite specific of every torturer that wants to get as much information as possible, it prevented the victim from passing out and clogged his blood vessels to minimalize the risk of bleeding out.

The receiver of this special treatment basically was aware how he falls into a catatonic state.

So frickin' nice.

The paw went down once more.

The cheetah screamed, hands so tightly clenching the grass that claws pierced furry palms.

His whole body kicked in a painful spasm.

The candle holder went deeper this time, splitting the fleshy obstacle with ease, strands of skin and fur got glued to its now bloodied length and the blue paw holding it.

The revealed muscles of the cat's backside pulsed like drums made of skin, constantly beating the agonizing melody.

One of the spikes of the lamp got stuck in the muscles, instead of pulling out she started to drill, making sharp twisting motions.

Wounded legs of the feline started kicking wildly, tapping to the melody of screeches their owner was blaring out.

With the noise similar to an opening can she reached the spot every proud, heterosexual male is scared of touching in fear he might like it. Plasters of flesh and muscle shot everywhere during the descent, bits of the bloody flesh splattering on her snout.

"PLEAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!" the shrieking beg turned into a caw the moment she pulled out and knocked at the door

The candle holder cut the flesh around the anus, part of it slipped inside and ruined the tissue within, blood poured from the hole like lava from a choking volcano.

Up and down went the bloodied, blue paw.

The resistance gave in slightly, the body reacting automatically in a desperate defense to stretch wide enough to let the object inside. Unable to widen fast enough to house the rough invader.

She helped it.

With a growl she pulled back and sharply threw her paw down, stabbing the asshole with the wood in her palm as if she was holding a dagger. Wet sound filled the air as if pile of wet clothes would drop on the ground, blood and tissue smacked into her nose with the strength of a thrown cake colliding with a snout.

Bloody strands dangled down her chin.

The body below began convulsing, the cat making, sharp, choking sounds.

He wasn't going anywhere any longer.

The wood got lodged inside the cat, finding more resistance of the tissue, spike and a half deep.

Two more remained and a base, the distance between ridges maximum two centimeters long.

She grabbed the bloody, slick stick with both paws, groaning she drilled it deeper, twisting it sharply four times from left. It felt as if she would be driving her claw into wet sand.

Nearly two spikes.

She put both paws, one on top of the other on the standing up end of the candle holder. She pressed down, his whole body arched up, a wet gurgle rumbled within his pierced ass.

She bounced up slightly and drove the stick deeper, breaking another barrier of resistance.

Almost three.

She jumped back, flipping him over, the waist propped on the protruding piece of the candle holder.

The cheetah's body was shaking, under the influence of current of agony, his big eyes shot from their orbits, bulging and red. Mouth was opened, droll glistened in the corner of his maw, mouth was full of blood. Tip of the tongue he sliced with his teeth stuck to the moist chin.

Catatonic state.

He was dead and yet unable to accept it.

She kicked his trembling legs, spreading them wider.

Iris reached underneath the cheetah, grabbing onto the handle she shoved down his ass, lifting him up by it.

Standing on her haunches she used the other paw to grab him by the balls, she stretched the scrotum as far as it would go. Her head dived in between his legs, one snap of teeth was enough to bite off his nuts.

Blood gushed down her throat.

She let go off the handle, the body flopped down, there was a wet smack, the waist dropping lower than before. A fart resembling a stomach grumble rumbled inside the intestines.

Most likely three spikes by now.

She pierced the thin skin of the scrotum with her teeth and spat the furry nuts out. Mixture of blood and saliva flinging back and forth from her mouth.

She fished out the two vulnerable sacks from the spat out patch of skin. She shoved one of them into his mouth, the other didn't want to fit.

Switching the testicle to her other paw, she stuck her claws inside the free corner of the mouth and cut strongly. Slicing the cheek in half, the skin flopped like a flag on the wind.

The other nut joined its brother.

She slammed one of her fores under the jaw, the other one on top of his nose and pushed, with a growl of exertion forcing the maw to shut.

Wet popping noise and the rough sound of crushing teeth filled her earholes.

Blood, saliva testicle fluid shot from the little round hole the pressed together lips didn't manage to cover. All that flow hit her right in between the eyes, splashing on her scales with the intensity of a held back piss.

She fed him his own balls.

With a snarl she jumped back once more, trapping the waist in between her haunches again.

"For my mother!" she screamed and slashed at the chest, spraying blood and flesh everywhere

"For my father!" another slash, from the opposite direction this time

"For my family!"

Slash.

"For my life!"

Slash.

"For my humiliation!"

Slash.

"For my sorrow!"

Slash.

"For my agony!"

Slash.

"For my broken heart!"

Slash.

"Die!"

Slash.

"Die!"

Slash.

"DIE!"

Iris roared at the top of her lungs, applying one, final swing of claws.

They whizzed through empty air.

The chest below her a bloody hole, her strong swings cut through everything, she could see the glistening bone of the spine below.

She wasn't done.

She pounced forward, sinking her teeth into the lifeless neck. She tore a considerable chunk of flesh from out of it. Spitting it all out she dived back again, snapping and ripping it apart, occasionally jerking her head in crosswise motions like a shark to tear off a chunk that just didn't want to go.

Snap.

Snap.

Snap.

The neck was gone, holding only on a mere stump connecting it to the rest of the most.

With a furious roar the struck the head, ripping it off and sending it rolling down the earth. Opened eyes of the cheetah never stopping their staring.

There was barely any blood left gushing from the created hole, herbs had nothing to do with it, she simply bled him dry.

She howled into the sky, scaring off even the breeze of wind.

She flopped forward, dropping on her forelegs, they shook slightly. She panted heavily over the massacred corpse, her whole body heaving with exertion, everything was gluing itself to her mouth and rolled out tongue.

Breath after breath she calmed herself and allowed all of it to sink in, she felt absolutely nothing,

It was a welcoming change of pace.

After several more pants she pulled herself up and turned around approached her uncle, he was observing her closely, he didn't seem to be bothered by her looks, she was literally a bloody mess. Iris sat down and extended her paw, curling her claw in the popular gesture of asking someone to come closer.

Ignus got up and craned his neck down to get his snout in the level with his niece.

Iris planted an affectionate, bloody kiss on his cheek.

"Thank you uncle" she rubbed her gut covered nose against his scaly cheek in a sign of gratitude

"It was my pleasure"