Heat's Burden chapter 2: Mutual Exploration
***Story Description***
After going on a flight to clear her mind and straighten her priorities, Flamewing is interrupted by the arrival of Sableclaw. Equally curious about each other, the two night furies break the rules set by their alpha as they engage in mutual exploration of the opposite gender.
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***Heat's burden chapter 2: Mutual exploration***
Whenever the land's burdens became too hard to bear, Flamewing ascended high into the sky, soaring past the clouds, only stopping once she reached that white expanse sprawling over each and every territory, blanketing everything from sight. Up here, there were no rules to concern herself with. No alphas, no territories. Just her and the endless sea of silence.
The female nightfury spread her flame-marked wings, letting them carry her wherever they pleased. Were it not for the heaviness within her lungs, she could have spent an eternity here, where so few other dragons troubled her. The select few species who had the ability and the endurance to make it up here preferred to conserve their strength for more rewarding endeavors, but most simply couldn't elevate themselves such.
The fatigue within her wing muscles slowly dispersing, Flamewing whirled, dove, spun and rotated in the sky, relishing the fiery glisten her scales and wing membranes seemed to burn with against the calm, orange light of the setting sun. Beyond the clouds, the blazing disk burned so bright that it stung her eyes in spite of the nictitating membranes drawn over them, so she kept her back to it while she tested the limits of her agility.
Finding it more and more difficult to breathe, the female angled herself into a dive, breaking through the even formation of condensed mist, keeping her tail fins folded and her limbs flat against her body. As soon as the land acquired clarity under her, Flamewing curled her tail inward to bring her body in a flat position, spreading her limbs to slow her descent and remove the strain from her wings and fins. Her velocity lowered, she pulled to an abrupt stop, hovering above the very world.
So many territories for so many dragons. The one to her left, a sea of green slashed by serpentine rivers, looked the most appealing, yet the alpha who lived there enslaved his dragons in ways that Tyrantus never would. She swerved to her right, towards the Sunset Forest. Vermilion and orange canopies were strewn over slopes and hills, the density of their boughs and branches entrapping any winged dragon bigger than a terrible terror. It was the perfect territory for the smaller species of dragons, yet not one that she'd enjoy. Without clear access to the sky, Flamewing felt as impotent as the earthbound Tyrantus, a dragon who could never bask in the freedom the clouds offered.
She flapped her wings and made it past the Withered Spring Gorge, where the ground widened and transitioned into bare highlands surrounded by mountains so tall they pierced the very clouds. The shortest, bluntest one housed her den. Most dragons picked the broader caves, but Flamewing enjoyed her peace and solitude far more than the extra space a lone female such as her had no need of.
The thought of a mate lessened her focus; it made her wings feel heavy and sore, and the currents too strong for a steady glide. Frustrated by the wishes planted into her mind by her heat, Flamewing aimed for the shady spot between two hills and pushed her hindquarters forward to land. Once on solid ground, she lowered herself onto her side and lifted a grey hind leg to lick at her vexing itch. A muffled growl ignited within her throat, becoming deeper with each stroke across her swollen folds. Fiery tendrils slithered across the edges of her slit, urging her to slide her tongue past the wan scales of her underbelly and dip it into the searing, moist flesh below, just like Bluehaunch and Tyrantus had done.
Flamewing's limbs and wings trembled, toes stretching and curling, her eyelids half-drooping as that familiar pleasure returned with the same potency from before. Even after Tyrantus suckled the essence of her heat multiple times out of her body, her vent felt as warm and tender as before, the momentary respite Tyrantus had given her far shorter than she expected.
Unwilling to soil her underbelly with her pungent climax, Flamewing withdrew her snout from her vent and flicked her forked tongue across her snout to brush away the pheromone-laden liquid heat. She could have easily coped with its tangy smell and slightly savory taste, yet the same slime brought a fierce itch to her folds, and it also made grass and grime stick onto her nethers, proving itself to be a most irritating affliction.
After she cleaned herself to the best of her abilities, she settled onto her side, brought her forepaws together, and dropped her weary head on top of them, loosening a heavy sigh. Her parents used to care for her while she was sick as a hatchling, so a gnawing loneliness settled into her belly, making her fiercely crave for companionship. Bluehaunch had always been kind, patient and understanding, and it was for this very reason that Flamewing refused to fly straight for her lair. She would undoubtedly hunt throughout the night to feed as many hungry males as she could manage despite the risk of being tackled and bred by the more lustful, frustrated kind. She so easily dismissed that possibility compared to Flamewing, whose alpha's temper had taught her to always see and expect the worst in males.
"Mrreh," she expressed her disappointment with Bluehaunch's initiative, unfurling a wing to nuzzle and lick away the stiffness out of her muscles. Unlike her lighter colored underbelly, her wing bore the same grey color as the rest of her body, dreary and dark like the sky before a storm. She took the namesake of her light blue markings embellishing the lower edges of her wings, their appearance imposing yet beautiful, worthy of naming her.
The more she licked at her wing, the moister her lips turned, and the brighter her heat burned. The constant tingle within her lower belly craved for her tongue upon it, and with each passing day, Flamewing knew it would only grow more and more determined. The thought of waking up soaked in her juices, and then attend Tyrantus' summons in that state which would lead to the same ending as it did today instantly shattered Flamewing's hope for the days to come. What need had she to hunt, when Tyrantus fed her the best meat, all so that he could feed on her heat in return? Flying, too, seemed pointless, a delay of her inevitable return on the ground. And her folds felt so infuriatingly warm, she could barely keep her thoughts away from her disgraceful state.
She growled and lifted her hind leg to lick away the ceaseless itch within her lower belly, only to settle it back down due to the futility of her efforts. It wouldn't stop. Not until Sableclaw's seed basked her heated insides, nurturing them with the promise of life.
Flamewing snarled and hissed and growled, disgusted at the prospect of carrying eggs in this forsaken territory. She rocked from side to side, brushing her hindquarters against the cool grass, kicking all four of her limbs at the air, tearing at an invisible foe that shared Tyrantus' likeness. He might have purred, licked, pleasured, and honored her, yet he did the same with every female, and only because their size prevented him from expending himself inside them. Should a female of his kind lift her tail for him, Tyrantus would abandon his colony without a second thought, exposing every dragon inhabiting it to a takeover.
And a claim over an existing, already developed colony rarely underwent peacefully.
For a moment, Flamewing cast her mind away from all these terrible worries, the swaying motion of her body relaxing her tense muscles, converting her growl into a hum of contentment. Distractions. That's what she needed.
She sprawled onto her back, leaning forward in an attempt to grab onto her hind paws with her fores, as she had often done as a hatchling to test her flexibility. Her white claws locked together for a brief moment before the momentum sent her tumbling onto her side. From this position, her swaying tail, with its flame-coated tip, caught her attention. She swung it inward at her snout, snapping and growling at the flared membranes bridging the spines of her tail tip, always an irritating inch or two away. She pushed herself into a roll and managed to catch it momentarily, only for it to slide past her smooth gums effortlessly.
A yip escaped her maw as she scrambled onto her feet, eyes fixed on her swaying tail. She swatted it against her side, and the tip came no further than her shoulders. She twisted her neck all the way to her side and lunged at it, missing again and again, until she started spinning in circles, if only to catch that elusive membrane.
The familiar call of a Nightfury that could only be Sableclaw put a stop to her juvenile game. She immediately rolled onto her haunches, tucked her wings tight against her sides and perked her head in the direction of the noise, tail brought behind her forelegs to shield that obvious temptation from the male's sight.
It came again. Frail, more like a series of yelps, deceptively similar to those of a bird. Given how rarely she had heard his vocalization, most dragons wouldn't be able to tell the difference, Tyrantus least of all. Washed clean by the males, well fed, and relieved of his seed, he would most likely sleep until dawn.
Flamewing responded in kind to him, more intrigued than annoyed by his visit. Any distraction--even that of a male--was welcome, and if he behaved like he did back in the valley, she might even let him suckle her heat. Better his tongue than hers, especially when he went as far as to wash his paws in the stream after merely touching her, for fear of having her scent rub off on him.
The male's sonorous trill reached her again, his lithe form bursting past the top of one of the hills shading her. He flew in circles above her, each loop shorter and lower, until he stretched his rust-colored wings to steady his smooth landing. He alighted with far more grace than she usually did, sparking Flamewing's envy of his superior agility. She brought her forepaw to her snout, dashing her claw down her chin to imitate the globs of seed that marred the male's muzzle last time she saw him.
"Khreeeeeh," Sableclaw coughed, his features turning wry as he coughed several more times to denote his disgust with how Tyrantus tasted.
Flamewing should have squeaked in amusement, but instead, she found herself humming thoughtfully, almost sympathetic to his plight. She couldn't eat today, when it was her turn at being Tyrantus' favored. The previous times, she had gorged herself like the rest of the females, but the knowledge--the realization--that Sableclaw almost ended with a claw tip up his tailhole due to her had upset her stomach greatly.
And it still did, hours after that vile feast ended.
Sableclaw settled onto his haunches a few dozen wingspans from her, growling at his engorging member, whimpering apologetically at her, then growling at his erection once again. Just like in her case, his instinct chose to manifest against his will, and he had no permanent means to subdue it. Only temporary ones.
Convinced of his sincerity, she waved him closer with a wing, a mixture of surprise and joy enkindling into his vermilion eyes. He approached her with slow, careful steps, his tail frills and spines tucking and folding in apprehension whenever she shifted her tail or craned her neck in his direction. She didn't expect him to be quite so timid. Not when he boasted vermilion stripes that began on his head and expanded along his back, a type of markings usually reserved for an alpha. She had found them fascinating on more than one occasion, but with her heat sizzling beneath her scales, Flamewing began clawing at the grass to distract herself from the increasingly pressing desire to mate with him.
He was a much better hunter than her, after all, and had traded away his quarry to spare her of her impending humiliation. And he also had stripes, a feature so rare in other Nightfuries that her pride desperately craved to bestow upon her future hatchlings.
But that was her heat, not her. Never her.
And unlike her, Sableclaw barely paid attention to his erection, wincing and snarling when it bobbed or swung lightly to the side, yet continuing his walk as if nothing happened. Even with that ridged rod that had small, meaty protrusions flanking it, Sableclaw preserved his dignity, shrugging off his instinct without any apparent problem.
A faint growl of apprehension rumbled in his throat when he made it within a few wingspans from her, tail held low and head even lower. He paused before each step, one trembling paw held aloft before he found the courage to place it down.
Flamewing let out a soft, encouraging squeak, urging him to approach her.
The male froze at that. With a sharp yelp, he drew back and flared his wings, ready to bolt, mistaking her confidence for fear.
Flamewing exhaled her pent-up breath at the shift in roles. Now that she wanted him closer to her, he suddenly turned nervous, as if she would pounce him and mount the seed out of him at any moment.
In order to lessen his anxiety, she lowered herself onto her belly to make herself smaller. When the male took a tentative step forward, she lifted a front paw to lick at. Encouraged by her casual posture, the male took another step, and another, until he was close enough for Flamewing to notice the sharp, earthy scent of his own heat that leaked past the prominent spade of his tip. His malehood tensed underneath his belly, throbbed and pulsated, as restless as the tingles rushing through her depths. His flared nostrils sucked in her scent, and his tongue flicked at every shuffling step he took to taste the air for the sweet miasma that floated from her.
She managed to groom both wings and tail tip before the male finally reached her. He bowed his head low and inched his nose closer to her in greeting. Flamewing accepted his introduction with a blink, not yet ready to touch snouts with him. His scent might have been similar to hers thanks to his species, and his coloring might have appealed her, but she needed time to accept a male, even one that had aided her.
Sableclaw had no such patience. When she failed to take the initiative, he reached forward, poking his flat snout at her neck, sniffing and licking at the thinner, smaller scales that bore the lighter shade of grey. His sudden affection stunned Flamewing; it made her claws dig into the ground and her wings to tense up as a warm, foreign jolt ran through her. It rippled through her scales, dispersed down her belly and stopped under her slit. Her muscles tightened, and she felt her hot slime slither its way up to the surface of her nether lips. She growled weakly, more to herself than to Sableclaw's slow, long, fulfilling licks. She wanted him to stop, to fly away from her, to allow her to clean herself down there.
But he didn't, and neither did she attempt to dissuade him. Compared to Bluehaunch, his licks were different. He didn't wish only to comfort her; he desired her as well. Flamewing could his passion stir his tongue, guiding it to her chest and flank. His licks became quicker, his breaths turned shallow and rapid, and his wings and tail fins shuddered in their sockets, mirroring his overwhelming excitement at finally being with a female.
Curious as to what he would do, Flamewing shifted a haunch to the side, revealing her soaked crevice to his wide, alert, aquamarine eyes.
The male immediately perked up. His member swung upwards, and his snout darted towards her underbelly, far quicker than she expected. Flamewing swatted his head aside with her tail and scrambled to her feet to snarl and hiss at how swiftly he succumbed to his instincts.
Sableclaw took the full might of her blow, trudging back with a whimper, his ears sagged, weighed down by the bitter realization. All of his playfulness vanished, replaced by a stiff posture, a sunken head, and a rigid tail with a folded tip that curled across his forelegs. While her fangs were protracted, he found himself a patch of dried grass to flop onto, curling into a ball and bringing a rust-colored wing around to conceal his head from sight.
Flamewing snorted at his feeble courage. His low whimpers made her heart pound and her tail swish between her legs restlessly. Were it not for her heat, she would have chased him out right away, yet she found herself unusually forgiving and ever curious about him.
She fumbled onto her feet and trotted towards the male, sheathing her teeth to make it known she didn't intend to berate him, yet he didn't even look at her. He had one hind leg held aloft, and the other jerked every now and then as his paw grappled at the ground. The squelching sound of wet licks came from below, accompanied by feeble murmurs and moans. Was he...did he seek to unburden himself of his seed?
Flamewing's heart skipped a beat when presented with that possibility. She growled inquisitively at him, intent on interrupting him before he loosened his essence. Taken by surprise, the male unleashed a sharp cry at how close she stood to him and instinctively rolled onto his back to expose the light rusty brown of his belly, submitting himself to her.
She didn't expect him to give up his pride so quick. Then again, he probably didn't anticipate the interruption either. Presented with this rare opportunity, Flamewing licked her snout in anticipation. She had never towered over a submitting male, let alone one with a member grown to full size. His spade was quite a bit thicker than she expected, with small, dull barbs dotting its surface. The ridges only spread along both the top and bottom of his member, their sides ending with those fleshy nubs that she had spotted earlier. They looked terribly sensitive, already coated with a glisten that could be his precum, or saliva, or both.
The male flinched and growled when Flamewing poked his rigid tip with her snout, humming in amusement at how it jerked back into place. She did it a few more times, noticing how Sableclaw's member grew stiffer, at how his eyelids shuttered, as if he was on the verge of losing control over his senses. She gave him a moment to catch his breath, then licked at the thin strands of liquid coating his member, tasting it. Richer, stronger than hers, with an earthy, slightly briny tang.
Focused on her discovery, she didn't notice the male's snout approaching until his tongue brushed against her snout. She retreated with a hiss at first, then dipped her head and blinked an apology. The male squeaked softly, eyes brightening, ears perking at the change in her demeanor. His snout inched closer to hers once again, and his tongue darted out to lap at her snout. Flamewing scrunched her eyes shut under the quick, rapid, wet licks, her snout turning wry at the mess Sableclaw made of her face, her heart fluttering in her chest.
She turned her head left and right, up and down, intent on feeling as much of his tongue drift over her scales as possible, the eerie feelings coalescing into her belly indecipherable to a female who only now began to accept her need of companionship. Bluehaunch never purred at her so brightly; she seldom lingered on the tip of her snout, whereas Sableclaw insisted on that specific area, his flat snout perfect for rubbing it against her.
As he finally fell into a rhythm, Flamewing allowed herself the luxury of closing her eyes, fully immersing in what the male had to offer. Her haunches trembled at how fulfilling it felt to be groomed and pampered not only by a friend, but a potential mate, one that would forever stick by her side, and bask her in this same affection whenever she required it. Slowly and surely, her tension fled her. Dreams, desires, and lust clouded her mind, ushered in by her demanding heat, tempting her with the end of her self-imposed solitude.
And then, just when Flamewing began to entertain those thoughts, the licks came to an abrupt end.
Flamewing snapped her eyes open to find the male's snout reaching for her hindquarters. He persistently pointed a claw not at her puffy lips, but at the slime spread around it, rotating his claw to indicate that he merely intended to clean her down there, just like Bluehaunch had done.
Flamewing gently wrapped her maw around his slender neck, protracting her teeth just enough to get a grip on his scales and pull him away, growling her desire to postpone that. He presented his belly to her, not the other way around, so it was her that had to finish inspecting him first.
The male relented to her choice. His tail splayed over the ground, his haunches parting to give her complete access to his body, his member included.
Flamewing scrutinized him, noting the folding spines running down his neck and back, and the small, extra pair of appendages that decorated the back of his cheeks. Despite being a male, his belly had the same soft scales as hers. She nuzzled his chest, taking in his suave scent as she prodded with her snout. She hovered up to his shoulder and continued to his elbow, where a small set of fins resided. She dug her snout between them to feel their soft, smooth touch, causing the male to shiver. When she tried a lick, he simply swung his leg to the side, wrinkles appearing on his snout.
It tickled him! She considered chasing that vulnerable area of his, but the itch nestled between her haunches made her crave for more than just juvenile games.
His wings came next. Flamewing rubbed her cheeks against the smooth membrane to feel its soft texture. Thin veins webbed the rust-colored surface, pulsing faintly. Flamewing curled and twisted her neck to get more of the living blanket to cover her sensitive neck. Like before, this joy was short lived, for as soon as her eyes spotted his member, an overpowering urge struck her. Her nether flesh quivered in want for those nubs of hardened flesh, and surplus slickness graced her lips as she suddenly, involuntarily imagined herself receiving Sableclaw inside her.
The male must have been addled by the same desire, for his slimy serpent tensed up and nudged at her haunch, spreading its scent along her grey scales. She cocked her head at its surprising mobility, then rubbed her snout against the fleshy nubs to test their texture. The male whined and brought a wing to cover his shaft, but Flamewing lashed her tail against it to push it back. She found it interesting, how it shook and bobbed and throbbed out of its own accord. The features it possessed also intrigued her, forcing her snout to greet each of them in turn with the soft, leathery surface dwelling between her nostrils.
Every poke, every touch, and every breath Flamewing exhaled upon Sableclaw's member caused it to turn increasingly taut. His ridges acquired further prominence, and the nubs turned straighter and harder. His tip, too, swelled.
And, without any warning, it spat a lance of thick, ivory seed across her snout.
Flamewing drew back with a hiss, her features scrunching as her tongue instinctively swept the seed away. It stuck to her tongue and mouth, its slimy, sticky texture causing her to dry heave and snarl at the one who produced that sharp, briny slime. She noticed Sableclaw roll onto his legs at the edge of her vision, stumbling forward and yelping as he painted the grass with his essence, his pleasure so great he tripped on his own legs. Curled into a moaning, shuddering bundle, he soiled himself, his eyelids fighting against his very instinct to crack open and reveal his earnest, remorseful gaze.
But it was too late. Flamewing already took to the skies, unwilling to spend an extra moment in the presence of that lust-addled, bumbling runt of a male prone to such shameful outbursts.
END OF CHAPTER 2
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