No grace in defeat
#5 of Quickies
This is a quickie story commission I have done for https://www.furaffinity.net/user/dradmon/
Description: Whoever thought Alduin would suffer defeat with dignity and not vent his pent-up, sexual frustrations on the nearest and most loyal of followers...
Warning: This story features rough sex and dubcon. If it's not your cup of tea, you better not scroll down and looksie.
Dradgien(C) belongs to Dradmon, and Alduin is borrowed from Skyrim
***No Grace in Defeat***
For the first time since Dradgien joined him, Alduin had lost the battle, forced back by dragons who refused to submit or tolerate the words of a wyvern concerned only with his gain.
Dradgien's head fled back behind the cover of the uneven wall safeguarding his nook, his frame eerily stiff, mind completely blank. He hid for fear of their enemies finding him, not from the wyvern he trusted, and yet...his body froze, stuck in his cowardly place by paralyzing uncertainty. What was he to do? How would he offer comfort to a wyvern who considered himself invincible?
Dradgien didn't know. By the spirits, his very limbs trembled from every joint, more shaken than those of a wyvern whose drooping eyelids flared his concern into a roaring blaze, the threat of fatal wounds spurring him into action. The closer he got to Alduin, the clearer everything became, until it flooded his mind with the obvious answer.
He could smell her on him. That thick, pungent heat, smeared over the claw cuts parting the softer scales of his inner haunches. Alduin bled from more than a dozen wounds, yet the pink of his shaft still reared its spade-shaped head, the tapered protrusions edging it in a fan of intriguing--and more than appealing--barbs swollen with unspent frustration. A surprisingly strong shudder shook Dradgien, stirring craves he shouldn't possess, fogging his clear purpose of tending to his master with warm tingles creeping through his cloaca.
The black drake's head swerved away from that maddening film of translucent goo imprinted upon Alduin's eerily still and tense haunches, shifting to an array of shiver-inducing punctures trickling rivulets of fresh blood. His tongue rushed forth without asking for permission, rustling against the plates that should have protected Alduin, were they just an inch longer. The dragoness bit deep into him, enough to choke his breath and threaten his life, but no more. This wasn't just an ugly wound, but a message, voiced clearly by the rest of the scrapes, cuts, punctures and lacerations drawn across the body of a wyvern Dradgien thought to have been invincible.
She granted him his life in exchange for carrying the ominous meaning of his wounds out into the world; to live the next few weeks as the embodiment of the red dragon wrath, carved clearly into his disheveled form.
Wyvern blood tasted strong, its bite and reek dizzying to the one who should have prevented such harm in the first place. But Alduin left alone, distrustful--or perhaps strangely protective--of his charge. Dradgien wished he could discern the meaning of his actions, glimpse into his thoughts for an answer, or at least obtain a flinch, a sound, anything to melt the ice from his bones. But Alduin remained on his feet, unnervingly still, propped against his wings to keep his exhaustion at bay. Pained, heavy breaths rolled out of his nostrils, his vermilion gaze sunken and distant. Battle still raged in his analytical mind while he searched for an answer to the question that froze him in place, unable to even step away from the drafts of snow billowing into the cave that painted his tail increasingly white.
Dradgien brushed the snow off Alduin wherever he could, employing a few beatings of his wings or simply licking it off where it persisted. He was responsible for Alduin. He had to be useful, for that became his life's purpose. Otherwise, there would be no more warmth to cradle him during rest. No more snoring, no more tail holding, no more ripe, needy, irresistible musk to smell and taste and stir his blood into a raging volcano of seething lust.
Though he tried his best to subdue any vocalization that might reveal his state of mind to Alduin, a whimper still snuck past the black dragon's defenses. In that very instant, Alduin's bloodshot, frightening glare locked with his terrified eyes, seizing the breath in his throat. Licks wouldn't help any longer. Now that the wyvern's wings dislodged from the frozen floor, Dradgien instinctively reverted to the frightened, subservient dragon he used to be during their first days together. Head bowed, shoulders slumped, his steps meek in his retreat, Dradgien made for the warmer back of the cave, where Alduin's attention now shifted.
"Grrrhh," Alduin's low, almost lifeless growl stopped him. Such as stark difference to the reverberating sound that instantly commanded obedience...
Dradgien couldn't help himself. Driven by his affection for his master, he shuffled to his taller form, eager to soothe more of his wounds or help bear his weight for a couple of steps. Alduin's wing refused to lean on his shoulder, guiding the black dragon to his wounds, the flicks of his tongue meager to avoid awakening unnecessary pain. Though Alduin winced, stiffened and snapped his mouth a few times whenever Dradgien tended to the deeper, more scathing wounds, the wyvern showed no reticence in preventing him from fulfilling his duty. His eyes even began to slowly fade beneath the cover of his flight membranes, lulling him to much needed rest.
Compared to his other wounds, Alduin's haunches fared much better. Parallel claw marks sliced their soft, light grey insides only in three places. Blood already began to crust on the shallow cuts, the wyvern's superior healing already at work in mending him better than Dradgien's tongue could. The most hurtful of harms was done to his mind and senses, however, for the amount of female heat bathing his lower body far surpassed the lines of crimson blood.
Dradgien began to lick it all away, to wipe off that remnant of burning shame, to finally give respite to Alduin's hard, throbbing cock under which pooled a shallow puddle of his precum. It only took a single sweep of his tongue for Dradgien's head to explode with smoldering need; for his senses to cloud and dim and shrink to fit only the raging throbs rushing through his engorging shaft. Though she tasted far stronger than she smelled, a vibrant, musky, piquant flavor that spread through his entire mouth, Dradgien found it impossible to stop. He had to have more. To lap away that film of half-hardened goo in order to enrich his pheromones-driven high. Older as that dragoness was to his far more meager years, her fertility remained at its peak, the heaviness of her aroma all the more intoxicating for a male who never tasted anything quite as potent.
Tipsy, almost unsteady on his paws, Dradgien reached for Alduin's cock, governed solely by the impulse pulsing through his jerking shaft. The tip of his muzzle welcomed it, tongue curling around that lightly barbed, spade-shaped head, suckling on it in the slow rhythm Alduin used to growl his heart out for. The sharp taste of wyvern musk washed away some of the female's pricklier odor, his very cock jolting in approval of that highly exotic blend.
A single suckle in, and everything spun out of control. Dradgien barely let out a whimper as he found himself tossed to the floor, his vision reeling from the sudden shift in balance. Wings, far stronger than his, squeezed Dradgien's against the freezing rock. A thicker, stronger tail pinned is down, followed by a brutal hit against his tucked haunches by one of the wyvern's paws, all so that he could spread his belly open for the taking. Dradgien's pleading, confused gaze reflected in Alduin's encroaching, lifeless glare, the last thing he saw before the flash of fangs darted for his exposed throat.
Alduin's unrelenting grip stifled the last of his puzzled whimper, strangling whatever protest he dared voice against his better's actions. The searing pain registered only a moment after, shuttering the dragon's eyes in overwhelm with the surreal turn of events. Alduin was his master! His friend! The only one he ever--
Dradgien sucked in as much air as his sharp gasp allowed, the rest of it denied by Alduin's strengthening clutch. Tears rushed down the sides of Dradgien's eyes, his clenched eyelids a poor shelter from the burning agony of Alduin's claws tearing scales and skin alike off his inner haunches until he found proper enough footing to pin them down. Settled in place, a tight, familiar, once blissful hardness shoved deep into his cloaca, meeting no resistance from Dradgien's terrified, already shrunken member.
"Raaaaaaaaaaaaahhh!" Alduin's grip on the dragon's neck faltered to allow his earsplitting roar to shake the cave, asserting his dominance over lair and mate alike. Only, Dradgien wasn't his mate, for the fantasy he used to harbor about being entered was awash with head-spinning pleasure, not drowned by the pain choking his breath and burning within his haunches where Alduin's claws pierced into his flesh.
The wyvern's fangs reasserted their hold on his prey. The deeper he drove himself into Dradgien's wet cloaca, slickened by the heavy precum of his previously hard shaft, the stronger his grip grew. It stifled every struggle, any plea to stop, ensuring that Dradgien's body remained limp and defenseless, like that of a dragoness fit only to be the target of his welled frustrations.
It didn't stop with the last of Alduin's ridges plunged into him. Stretched to the brink by the invading cock, his insides trembling in a perverse mixture of shock and ecstasy, the muffled discomfort of having his member squeezed back in its very home paled in comparison to Alduin's deep, biting growl. There was no escape. No reprieve. Not until Alduin's seed burst deep into the only dragon available to take every drop of his maddening seed.
With each thrust worked into his tight cloaca unfit for such rough handling, Dradgien's body quaked in panic and confused bliss alike. Alduin's wings almost crushed his bones under their weight. His talons bit deep into his haunch muscles, oblivious to the pain they caused in order to maintain his proper footing. His jaws, latched around his throat right beneath his head, softened only when he pulled out, all so that he could suck in a deep breath and allow Dradgien the same leverage to keep him from passing out. Dradgien wished to believe that was his master's nature trying to break through this storm of psychotic lust; that, deep down, he wished for none of this to happen, and it was his vile instinct--the one he had warned Dradgien about--which overtook whatever sensibility he still possessed.
Dradgien nourished that ember of hope. He clung to it with every strand of sanity he still possessed, letting its warmth bask him, reassure him that all this happened for a reason, that his pledge of loyalty applied not only in victory, but in defeat as well. For all the wild, feral abandon possessing him, Alduin's main goal was still to thrust deep into his perceived dragoness, to lose himself in the fiery pleasure building within his shaft. He neglected Dradgien's emerging malehood that pushed out of his cloaca throb by weakened throb, and seemed to relish the shrinking of his available space, the newfound tightness applying renewed pressure on every sensitive feature of his cock.
His rough, squelching plunges into Dradgien's only available hole began to lose their edge, captured and dimmed by his more than half erect cock. The friction between their shafts grinding together did not sting anymore, but fueled Dradgien's ever rising pleasure, the mixture of barbs and ridges stimulating him to the point where pain seemed naught but a distant discomfort. For the first time since this nightmare began, Dradgien's eyes clenched tight not to withstand his master's torment, but to force his seed back, to withstand the tide of bliss ready to wash over him until Alduin finished. The closer he soared to his peak, the lighter, more abrupt his strokes turned, his fangs letting go of Dradgien in his final moments of lucidity.
Dradgien's heart leapt in his chest, his entire body awash with unexpected, primordial delight when he felt that final, unmistakable thrust plunge Alduin slit-deep into him. He could feel his girth swell to refuse against his tight, shivering walls, his seed gathering into that awfully prominent tip that still squirmed inside him, seeking the deepest, most fertile spot to deposit his pent-up seed into.
With a sharp, keening roar, Alduin relinquished his hold over his senses, unleashing the riptide of hot, thick, pungent frustrations that overtook him. The base of his member awash with that wet, sudden heat, Dradgien loosened his own seed, his resolve shattering amidst the sounds and smells of mutual orgasms. He never expected pain and pleasure to blend so well, for his roar to join Alduin's while his body quivered with numbing ecstasy, the throbs and spurts shooting out of his jerking cock enriched by the tightness lodged deep within him. Unrivaled in its soothing touch, Alduin's cum soon sputtered through every available crevice surrounding their joined members, its quantity too great for Dradgien to take it. That seemed to puncture the wyvern's fantasy of breeding a female, for his body reeled, his wings joined his sides, and his haunches lost their grip on Dradgien as he stumbled back, shooting the last of his faltering lines of seed over his belly.
While his master gasped for breath, he stared at dradgien's arched, half-limp cock drool the last of his orgasm as well, his eyes glazed with lust, unfocused and distant. Was he aware of his doing? Of the harm he had inflicted on the only dragon loyal to him, pledged to protect in exchange for his servitude?
Dradgien couldn't tell, for the afterglow of their mating subdued all traces of pain, leaving only the warmth of Alduin's climax overflowing from his cloaca dominate the dragon's soaring senses. It...it hurt at first, but then it...it shifted into what his dizzied state could only perceive to be their first mating.
***The End ***
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