Evan
Evan
by Raff
(Released under the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 3.0 Unported License.)
Silence.
The last notes from the young otter's guitar faded away, fading like ghosts into the foam walls of the studio. His tail swung gently with the dying beat, sneakers rocking against the rungs of the steep wooden stool he was casually perched on. After a moment his eyes opened, gaze rising to the dim space of the the control room where a bulldog and crow were watching him. The crow leaned forward toward the thin studio mic, finger reaching for its button. But this was interrupted as a ferret entered the control room, gesturing excitedly. The crow's finger never found the mic's button so the interaction was a pantomime for the otter, but it was clear the crow was annoyed at being interrupted. The ferret replied even more excitedly and the crow finally agreed, motioning him away. His finger searched again, finding the button this time, his voice crackling in the otter's sound-proof room.
"Hang on a sec uh..." He checked a paper he was holding "Evan. I'm loving what you've been doing, but I gotta deal with something here." A glare at the ferret. Evan nodded. "Good. Hang out in the lobby for a sec, I'll see you back here in 15."
The studio's lobby was deep in the heart of the building, a vast, moldering rectangle it shared with several other businesses. This meant no windows, but the otter didn't mind that so much as the bare cement walls, adorned only by the studio's logo and a few strategically placed plants, bursting half-heartedly from their containers. Judging by the level of dust on the leaves and the fierce green color they had somehow achieved despite the dull florescent lighting of the room, he was fairly sure they were fake. Evan sighed, brushing his tail to one side and plopping down on a cushioned red "bench" with no back, one of several, arranged in rows. The only furniture in the room.
The otter had been playing guitar for most of his life, every since he'd gotten a beat-up Gibson knock-off for his 13th birthday. The love planted there had grown into respectable skill; He knew his instruments like close friends, each fret, each strange quirk. And playing, feeling the spirit of the music run through him, out of him, seeing it connect with whoever was listening never got old.
But college had happened, and gradually Evan had drifted away from music. Not enough time, not enough energy, and things had become sharply practical in a hurry. What was enjoyable slowly gave way to what would put food on the table. The otter had ended up in a cubicle; boring, but stable, and the guitars in a closet, collecting growing layers of dust. Until three months ago, when his company's industry had plummeted, taking his employer with it. And just as Evan was staring sudden unemployment in the face, there was a sudden boom in the local music industry, a near gold-rush to grab any idiot with a guitar and get him recorded. Two and two didn't take long to add up. Out came the guitars . In a few weeks Evan's fingers were calloused, his mind and strings tuned, and his tail swaying hopefully.
Three months later, here he was, sitting in lobby as dreary and oppressive as the last few. The auditions were friendly, but they never called back. On to the next studio, and the next. It wasn't looking like this one would turn out any different; another name to cross off on the list. He had some reserves left, but they weren't going to last much longer. If something didn't pan out soon...
Digging into his pocket the otter retrieved a small phone, flipping it open and scrolling to the name he was looking for.
Charlotte.
He pressed the button and held the phone to his ear, waiting for it to ring through.
"Hey."
"Yeah, still here. Waiting right now, said they had some kind of emergency to deal with."
A short silence. "Well, you know how it is. Hard to tell, but I think they enjoyed it. They want to hear more; that's gotta be a good sign at least." A small smile as he tried to convince himself of this.
"Yeah, I don't know. Weird that they'd just stop in the middle like that-" the otter laughed.
"Maybe they're just messing with me. I dunno, maybe I shouldn't have tried for this. The market is tougher than it looks. " A pause, then a smile. "Thanks. No, you're right. Worth a try at least."
Over the door of the sound room the otter had just emerged from, a large light flicked from red to green.
"Oh, looks like they're ready again. Wish me luck." A smile "Mmm. Love you too Char."
The phone snapped closed and the otter strode back toward the sound room, prying the door open and climbing back up to his perch atop the tall stool, guitar at the ready. He plucked a few strings, absently checking their tone by force of habit, despite the very small chance that they had wandered from the correct pitch in the five minutes since he had last played. As his fingers wandered the strings, the otter's gaze slipped up to the control room, then blinked.
The bulldog and crow were still absent. The main lights in the control room were off for some reason, but the otter could just make out the form of a dragon, the dull glow of a hundred amber and green buttons on the panel below him splashing across his form with eerie illumination. Green eyes blazed in the dark, the only feature clearly visible from the stool.
For a moment Evan thought he had the wrong room, but as his gaze held on the dragon it gave no sign of this, made no attempt to get rid of him. Only sat and gazed back over that electric glow, through those green eyes.
This only added to Evan's unease, but it was clear the dragon was waiting for him. Partially because he didn't want to ruin an audition that had been going so well, and partially out of a vague fear of something worse, the otter pulled a song to the front of his mind, readied his grip on the guitar, and started to play.
It was an old melody, tragic and beautiful. Vaguely Celtic, rising and falling with a playful lilt. Evan's head swayed slowly to the rhythm as his fingers danced over the strings. The song was one he had known for a long time, something he could play almost without thinking about it. And the further into the song he went, the more grateful the otter was of this. His mind kept drifting back to the dragon; sitting, watching him from that dark room. There was a vague menace to him, but at the same time also a strange kind of appeal, something that tugged hard on the otter's curiosity. Once as a pup Evan had been in an antique shop with his father and found a strange box buried in the back of the store, covered in elaborate scroll work and strange designs. As he had tried to open it, the young otter had discovered the box was filled with secrets: strange hidden spaces, drawers that seemed impossibly long, doors that could only open when bit was pushed here and twisted there. He had been hooked, completely in his own world for a good half-hour until his father finished his business and came to find him.
That was the feeling the dragon gave off. The tantalizing scent of obscure mysteries, exquisite secrets. Buried things longing to be revealed. He opened his eyes, glancing toward the control room again. Those green, piercing eyes met his and a chill went down the otter. There it was again. Worse now. Or better. He broke his gaze, mind drifting. Why was the dragon here? Who was he? And why was he so... so....
He looked up again. The longer he looked into those eyes the more he could sense a creature that was utterly out of place in this studio, in this city even. Something very old, vast, countless ages of strange and wonderful things turning in those eyes. Dark things, things that slipped through the shadows and sprung from behind and swallowed. But this shadowy danger only added to the allure, the dark fascination pulling him in toward the dragon, wanting so desperately to see what was behind those eyes, what secrets the creature held.
His fingers missed a chord and Even snapped out of his strange train of thought, closing his eyes again. Focus on the music. Don't ruin this audition for some strange day dream. In his mind the otter laughed at himself; Sure, the emergency sound guy had dark, ancient secrets. Come on Evan. Focus.
But the laugh was hollow, the kind a person gives when they're trying to convince themselves they're laughing, that everything is normal when it's not. And the otter had barely finished his self-reproach before he felt himself wondering again, pondering, turning the idea of the dragon over in his mind again and again, the idea getting more fascinating, more irresistible the more he explored it. A small part of him tugged weakly against this: what was going on here? Why was he so distracted? Wasn't there something off about the dragon? But it was a dim voice, easily ignored, then drowned out completely. He had to know. He had to follow that curiosity. He had to know...
His eyes opened again. Right into the dragon's dazzling emerald gaze. The otter's paws hovered across the strings for an instant, as if in slow motion, then went limp against the guitar. The liquid green swirled and twisted, teasing the otter on. Something very appealing, wonderful and magic was there, hidden beneath the sea of green. It pulsed and hummed in those pupils. A trove of secrets, of truths that he longed to know. Wondrous hidden ways, twisting turning paths, dances under the moon, smoke and fire swirling deep in blood-red caves-
The otter's tail went limp against the stool, his mouth drooping to gently hang open as if he had forgotten it. He could feel the secrets growing closer the more he sunk into the shimmering green, the world starting to blur and fade around him. Slowly he started to notice a beating; his heart, and his breath, both quickening, the latter growing more shallow as his excitement rose, closer and closer to those secrets.
He felt his arms grasp the guitar, gently lift in from his shoulder, set it on the ground. He hadn't asked them to, but there was nothing strange about that. It had been a distraction anyway. Now he could focus more, dig deeper, further, faster. Sink into that face, those eyes. As he did he could feel the dragon digging back, subtly reaching into him. But it didn't matter. Nothing mattered now but what the dragon had, secreted away somewhere. If only he could find it. It was close, but not quite in reach. He had to get closer, deeper..
Mechanically Evan slipped off the stool, took an unsteady step toward the window of the control room. Immediately he was glad he had: he could feel himself going farther, getting closer to that swirling mystery.
Another step.
Better. Closer. Deeper in the dragon, the dragon deeper in him. He could feel the edges, the faint outline. Closer, closer...
Another step.
Images started to form in the otter's mind. Arcane rites, painted bodies writhing in flickering firelight, smoke and fire, squeals and gasps as red-hot pleasure spider-webbed through the body. Through his body. The otter gave a shuddering gasp. He could feel his face go warm, his tail...between his legs...The closer he got, the more clearly he could see, the stronger he could feel what was in those eyes. Ancient, bottomless, burning hunger. Not for flesh, but for what was inside. Screams and squeals and gasps as the dark things pounced, and pinned, and dug in to their meals. The fear grew stronger with every step, and the stronger the fear, the stronger the excitement, the heat, the need. The two battered back and forth in hims mind, clawing through his brain, tearing open every other thought, every other idea until only the fear and the need were left, drawing him closer... and deeper... and hotter....
At last Evan reached the window of the control room. His breath was slow and heavy now, and he could feel his swollen cock pressing tight against his jeans. It felt so good to look into those eyes, to bath in their current of raw desire, to let it ravage him with terror and aching, feral desire. And as the otter kept gazing, he felt something shift in the dragon's green orbs, twist a little. An electric burst of excitement ran through Evan. It was coming! The thing he'd been digging for, the secret, the wonder, so close, so-
And then it hit, all in an instant. Everything lit up in his mind like a lightning bolt had struck. He saw the Dark One grinning horribly at him, maw dripping, lined with impossibly vast and brutal teeth. He saw his fate reflected in the green fire; to be devoured not in flesh and bone, but in a far more horrible way, one words could only struggle to describe. He was doomed to the most horrific, wonderful end a creature could possibly have. The building terror and lust exploded in his brain. The otter gave a gasping sob as his thoughts skipped out of their groove like a record player. Horrible, half-understood images flooded his mind and everything crumbled. The otter cried out, eyes rolling back, paws bracing against the glass as he twisted back, his whole body seizing in deep climax.
After a long moment, he finally managed to bring his gaze back to the dragon, feeling as if his mind and body had just been ground into paste. The edges of the creature's mouth twitched upward in a grin.
The world flickered around Evan. Suddenly he was in the control room, standing in front of the dragon. This close he could see every detail of the creature's body. It was sitting in the chair, tail trailing off behind it. It wore no clothes, and there was no sign that it had, but Evan was long past caring. Its deep red scales shone in the glow of the room, spread over a body that was strong, but more lithe than massive, as if the creature had more use for being slippery and twisty then for raw power. Its arousal was evident in the tall member that rose from between its legs, thick, fleshy and ridged like armor all the way down.
But the dragon's scent was far more obvious. It filled the room, a thick, oppressive musk, filthy but irresistible to the otter; snaking its way into his nostrils, down into his mind to every urge and instinct the otter had to mate, and stroking them insistently. Evan gave a trembling gasp, quivering on his feet. It was getting difficult to think now; everything was so warm and heavy.
The dragon made a motion with his hand, a vague circle. But Evan knew exactly what it meant and dully obeyed, slowly slipping off his clothes. A moment later he stood bare in front of the dragon, his own length hanging stiff between his legs, cheeks flushed, eyes half-lidded. The dragon motioned DOWN and Evan felt his knees give; collapsed into a kneeling position on the floor. He gave another gasp of pleasure. The floor felt good. Right. Just where he belonged, on the floor, waiting for his fate.
The dragon extended a finger, then curled it back. A wide, absent grin spread over the otter's face and he fell forward, onto his hands and knees, slowly crawling to the dragon. He trembled as he did: even moving felt good now, every step flush with pleasure. He knew what was coming, vividly, but it didn't matter anymore. The red-hot pleasure had overpowered the fear, and Evan's charred mind was content to blissfully follow the creature's bidding as he slowly slipped toward his doom. When he was at the dragon's feet he sat neatly on his legs, gazing up expectantly at the fiery red creature.
The dragon grinned, clearly now, and extended a foot to Evan's muzzle. The otter trembled as another thrill went through him, eyes fixed on the foot, wide with wonder. The creature was so far above him, he knew now, so much more then he was, that the idea that he was allowed to lick its feet was unbelievable, farcical. But it had commanded, and he would obey, no matter how undeserving. Knowing better than to touch, Evan held his hands behind his back and gently leaned forward, reverently running his tongue over the underside of the dragon's toe. He shuddered again. The taste was fantastic, a little sweat, a strong bit of the dragon's musk, and the cool, slick feel of smooth scales against his tongue.
He ran his tongue round the toe, then gently sucked, gazing up at the dragon with deep, blissful gratitude. Then the next toe, and the next, each with the utmost care and thoroughness. By the fourth Evan felt as if his mind was oozing out of his ears. The joy, the pleasure, the privilege was almost too much to keep licking. But the more he licked, the more helpless he was to stop, and by the time he started the second foot the otter had relaxed, content in the knowledge that even if he fainted from happiness his body would probably still keep serving. As he finished the last toe, he looked up to the dragon again, searching for his next command. Another motion formed on those claws, and Evan shuddered. He wanted the otter to lick the soles.
Kneeling a little lower, Evan pressed his tongue to the dragon's heel and dragged up to the top, moaning at the taste. The soles were ten times what the toes had been, and now his nose was hovering just below them, making it even worse. The pleasure peaked, and before he could stop the otter found himself stammering into the dragon's feet as he licked.
"Thankyouthankyothanthankyouthankyoouthankyouthankyouoouthanyou-"
The dragon grinned again, gently stroking Evan's head. As soon as he felt the hand another dry climax ripped through the him, everything tensing, then going limp, still sitting, but with a sagging head. Gently the dragon guided the blissed-out otter's muzzle back to his foot, and Evan, only half awake, started to lick again.
He went back and forth, one foot then the other for what seemed like ages. Eventually he learned to hold the bliss in check a little, to not tip quite so easily. Even so, he was always only inches away from the next climax. Intense arousal gradually became the otter's new norm, a blissful, drugged state he could surf in complete contentment.
Once the dragon was satisfied that he had learned this lesson it stopped him, spreading its legs a little wider and pointing to the two large orbs hanging gently under its long shaft.
Evan froze for a second, stunned by this new allowance, then nodded softly, leaning his muzzle in toward the dragon's crotch with an eager, dull grin. His nose burned as he got close: this was where the musk came from, and before his mouth could even reach its goal his sense of smell was almost entirely burned out, only a dull, intoxicating reminder lingering in his nostrils. The skin that held the dragon's balls was loose and leathery, deep black against the red scales it hung from. As his tongue made contact and started to run over the smooth, warm surface, the otter noticed a change. The drugged out pleasure that had filled his body started to fade, still there, but at a low, simmering level now. His mind cleared a little. And in the space that opened up, a new feeling spread out and blossomed. As his tongue ran over that warm black sack, an awe for the creature he was serving started to swell in the otter. Dangerous, powerful, vast knowledge and age. Blazing inferno at his core, Twisting, writhing blackness in his mind, claws that could sheer stone, teeth that could go through Iron. Power and wonder. Power and wonder and awe...
And he belonged to this creature, completely, every inch, every thought, every bit of his soul. Because the dragon wanted it. That was all. Nothing he could say or think could possibly matter even the slightest bit in the face of such power. It was the natural order, the way things were. Because that was simply the way things were. He was this creature's toy, for as long as it wanted him, and he was too patheticly small to even have a right to think otherwise.
Knowing this made him very, very happy. The otter pressed harder with his tongue, gratefully, tenderly caressing those balls. Nothing could possibly be better than this, nothing could feel better, taste better. He was this creature's toy now, and that was unimaginably better than anything he could have hoped for. Moments ago the otter had been twitching and gasping on an overload of pleasure, but now he was filled with a cool certainty; wide-eyed, reverent worship. A word welled up in his throat, then spilled out, involuntary but utterly heartfelt.
"Maaahthteeer-" He slurred against the leathery skin, not stopping his licks for a moment. "Massththeeeer...Maahssster..." Over and over again, a humble song of praise to his new owner. The dragon stroked him again, grinning down at him as he had countless helpless catches of the past, hunter and meat.
Suddenly, from a crossed wire, or an overload, or one of a thousand other electrical failures the panel beside them erupted in a loud, twisting crackle of static. Evan twitched. And blinked. And looked up at the dragon. Eyes dull at first, then slowly widening into a look of horror, body trembling violently. His mouth moved, but no words would come. In an instant the terror/pleasure balance swung backward and the otter's world crashed down around him. No warm, comforting spikes of pleasure now, just terrifying reality.
After a second's pause the otter managed to scramble to his feet, and in flash he was out the door, leaving behind clothes and guitar. It didn't matter, nothing mattered now except getting away. Get away, get away, get away! Utterly bare, he tore out of the building and down the street, oblivious to anyone who might be watching. He cleared one block. Two. Three. At the fifth his body gave out and he collapsed against the wall of an alley, chest heaving. He glanced around. No sign of the dragon.
With a long, shivering sigh he slid down the wall to his knees, clutching himself, rocking slightly, eyes pressed shut as if that would make it all go away. His mind reeled, still trying to process what had happened. After a few seconds he managed to slow his breathing, and his racing thoughts.
Deep breaths. Deep breaths.
And then there was a twitch in his mind. Something felt strange, off. He was kneeling in an alley, nude. So why was the ground so comfortable? Soft, almost like it was-
Carpet.
His eyes snapped open. The dragon smiled back at him from his seat in the control room.
Evan screamed, scrambled up, ran for the door again. But his paw couldn't find the knob. Looking down he found this was because there wasn't one. The door was utterly bare on both sides. He glanced back to the dragon in horror, then turned to try the door again.
It was gone.
And when he looked back to the dragon, the window was gone too. He was in a concrete room with no entrances and no exits. Only the dragon.
Shaking violently Evan slowly backed into the far corner of the room. When the cold concrete against his back told him he was out of options, the otter slid limply down the wall to huddle in a ball, eyes shut tight, arms over his head. No, no, god no...
And then he felt a cool claw press against the underside of his chin. The otter tried to jerk away, only to find he couldn't. It was as if the claw had dug into him, though he could still feel it pressing on his fur. It gently guided his muzzle up and he was helpless to do anything but follow, wiggling a little like a fish on a hook. Two more claws pressed against his eye-lids. No, no! And gently rolled them open.
The dragons eyes were waiting for him, inches from his own. Evan's body tensed, a scream forming on his lips. But before it could come a red-hot fire blazed through the otters mind, and his jaw went slack. "P-please, no..." Evan whispered.
"Shhh" The dragon hissed, mouth so close to his he could feel the hot breath run over his face. "There's no need for that now, is there?"
The words were low, rumbling, horrible, like an echo rising the deep places of the earth. They dug into his mind, forcing him along like a collar lined with spikes. Words were pulled from the otter, forced past his struggling, panicked mind. "No," Evan whimpered, face twisted in sobbing fear. "No need. No need at all."
"And what is there a need for -" The harsh, ancient word that followed was one Evan had never heard before, but he knew exactly what it meant. Prey, meat, toy, pathetically humble one. Him. "What is there a need for?" He rumbled again.
Evan tried to draw back, but as soon as he started to resist a massive force grasped him, like a thousand iron hands. They pushed him forward, forcing the otter onto his hands and knees, then started to pull him forward, limb by limb, in a steady crawl. With ragged breaths Evan tried to resist the movements, but nothing he did could even shift them, let alone stopped them. The iron grip kept moving him forward, until he was between the creature's legs. He was forced into a sitting position, then his head was wrenched forward and down until his nose pressed gently against the large, dark balls again.
The dragon grinned.
The next instant Evan was pulled back up, forced to kneel, back straight, arms grabbing elbows behind him. In one harsh movement his head was tilted back and jaw forced wide open, tongue dragged out as far as it would go. The dragon stood, looming over Evan now. He brought his cock forward, grinding the tip into Evan's tongue as the otter struggled helplessly. He could taste the salt, the filth on the aroused flesh. For a moment the dragon continued this, toying with his tongue. Then he glanced down at Evan.
The otter felt the invisible grip close hard around his head and suddenly he was jerked forward, nose pressed tight against the creature's belly, the hot cock buried deep in his throat. Eyes wide Evan choked, then started to gag, desperately trying to pull back. But the grip wouldn't let him move an inch, and his arms remained lock in place, as if they were cuffed to each other. No matter how he twisted and pulled his head stayed forward and his throat remained full of cock. Slowly his struggling grew weaker as the loss of oxygen began to take its toll, eyelids drooping. Soon he was only gently squirming. The world grew dimmer.
Just as he was about to black out, the grip pulled him back. Air rushed into his lungs, painful but wonderful, only staying for a second before he heaved it back out again in a fit of coughing. Just as he was beginning to recover Evan felt the grip pull him forward again. Just as deep, but this time it started to move him, back and forth, grinding his throat against the dragon's cock like it was a sex toy. Again he struggled, mostly from reflex now. But again it was useless. The red dragon kept fucking him as he grew weaker and weaker, everything dimmer and dimmer. Then another breath of air, then back to the cock.
But this time the relief never came. Evan whimpered weakly as he felt his suffocating mind start to cave in, but the dragon only used him harder. The otter's expression went limp, thoughts slowly slipping away. He could feel his mind shutting down, sections flicking off like light in an office building. Darker, and darker and then...
Nothing. One light was still on. And it stayed on as the seconds ticked by. Instead of passing out the otter's mind just hovered, a few inches from shutting off, as dead as it could be and still remain conscious. Everything dull, muted, like he was buried in wool. Mechanically he started to move with the thrusts, licking the warm length as he slid up and down it. Not because he liked it, not because he hated it. It was obvious by the otter's glazed, vacant eyes that he was long past any thinking that complex. To that tiny corner of his mind that was still lit up, it just seemed like the right thing to do. And so he did it, licking and slurping and gagging along the shaft over and over, his own length slowly stiffening as he did.
It was impossible to say how long this went on; the lack of oxygen obliterated any decent short-term memory for Evan. All he knew was that it seemed very, very long. And then, dimly, he felt a twitch. Hot, thick liquid poured into his mouth, pulse after pulse. And in the same instant, he could breath.
His eyes lit up. Every inch of the office building went bright, nuclear-fission white as the oxygen raced into him like voltage off a live wire. In an instant all the pleasure, all the FEELING he had been missing hit him, hard.
The otter squealed in pleasure, body curling back in an overload of bliss. His length, hard and waiting, finally found its release, sending a twirl of hot seed out over the floor. For a moment Evan hung in the position his spasm had pulled him into, on his knees, head toward the ceiling, eyes rolled back. A second latter he collapsed, a twitching, groaning ball of fur sputtering incoherently as climax after climax washed over him.
The dragon watched this impassively, pressing a foot to the otter's head to hold him in place. When the convulsions finally died down and his prey lay still the dragon removed his foot, giving a slight motion with his finger. Wearily, the otter drew himself up onto his knees again. Still dazed, Evan gave a stuttering sigh, his pose sagging. There was no point in resisting. The Dragon could take whatever he wanted. The dragon WOULD take whatever he wanted. Weakly crawling forward, he pressed his muzzle to the dragon's length and looked up, his expression a pitiful mix of exhaustion, lust and fear. A look of complete, pathetic defeat. The dragon nodded. With a whimper, Evan slowly closed his lips around the dragon's tip and started to suck. He was pressed forward, hard, throat filled, and the lights started to go out again.
The otter only knew how many times this happened because the dragon forced him to count them. Ten. By the tenth, there was hardly anything left. Even the creature's strongest commands failed to move Evan's body off the floor, and at last he had to resort to grabbing his prey by the head and pulling him up, grinning at the sight that greeted him.
The otter's tongue hung limply, as did the rest of him. Even if the otter's mind had been capable of coherent function, not a single muscle would have responded to him. The dragon's fluid was splattered across his face, dripping from his mouth. The taste of the creature's seed slathered his tongue, wildly overpowering anything else it might try to detect. His eyes, rolled up in their sockets, slowly slipped down to gaze shakily at the dragon a moment, then snapped back to their former position, his body shuddering as he let out a weak groan.
The dragon gave a muted, horrible laugh, like rocks grinding together. Grabbing Evan by the shoulders he tossed the limp otter onto the control panel, shifting him into place. The panel started at waist height and rose up to meet what had been the window at about half a right angle. It was also unusually large; plenty of space for the otter's head, torso and waist. His legs and tail hung over the edge, but the dragon pressed the former back and to the sides, spreading Evan's ass wide. The otter lay limply in place, head to one side, eyes staring out into space as the dragon toyed with him, barely conscious let alone able to move.
A long black tongue snaked out over the dragon's muzzle as he surveyed his prey, spread and ready. Evan felt the long, hot shaft he had been entertaining for so long run over his helpless hole. So thick, and warm, and slick. After toying with him this way for a moment, the tip pressed against his entrance. Hovered there an instant. Then thrust in. Slowly, but only because the dragon wanted to savor the feeling of his new prey as he claimed it. It was obvious from the callous, hard motion that there was no concern for the otter. Despite his exhaustion Evan shivered reflexively as the long, thick cock spread him and found its way deep, deep inside.
Evan gave a long, deep, twisting groan. Slowly, the otter's head rose up off the panel until his eyes were gazing into the dragons. His face, splattered with tears, saliva and cum spread in a show of whimpering gratitude. It was as if the dragon had grasped the deepest part of him, the very core, and firmly ground it into the dirt. And it felt so very, very good. When the dragon didn't move, he pressed his rear up onto the cock, feeling that wonderful grinding again, in his ass and his mind. That long, hard flesh was destroying him, attacking the last little patch of the otter that wasn't obliterated, the very core. And he didn't care any more. He wanted it. He wanted the dragon to ruin him, to break him, to squish him like a bug under a rock. Because it felt so good, SO good and everything else was destroyed, leveled. All gone, all burned away. No hope, no escape, all gone. All that mattered now was feeling good, doing whatever it took to feel more of this. This wonderful, glorious destruction. Over and over he ground up into the crimson beast, begging, pleading to be broken apart.
The creature grinned. The otter was finally ready. Leaning down, his paws held Evan's shoulders as the cool, scaled snout came to his lips. A long, thick warmth slipped into his mouth: the dragon's tongue. Swirling around inside his muzzle a moment, then pressing back, down, into his throat. Evan coughed a moment, then went still, gently, gratefully moaning as every muscle in his neck relaxed, the wide, warm tongue pressing into his throat, sliding in and out, gently screwing him. Evan gave a muted moan which grew louder as the pleasure from below and above met along his spine, dancing back and forth in wonderful overload.
Claws dug into the otter's thighs, the dragon's paws down below again. There was a slight empty feeling as the creature pulled back and then, as it came forward again, hard-
'GGAAAAAH!" the otter squealed as he felt the hot flesh surge into him. The dragon started to move in rhythm, cool hips meeting Evan's soft rear again and again with a soft thud. The otter twitched and gasped under the attack. With each thrust he could feel something pierce deeper and deeper into his mind. As it dug deeper the otter whimpered in bliss, urging his master on. It was getting close now, right toward the place where his mind kept all its pleasure. Not coaxing or massaging or drawing out like it had before. The creature was going to plunge right into it. Yes, yes, just a little more. Break it up, break it to pieces-
And then there was a twitch in the otter's mind. Somewhere, some last dim light of self-preservation flickered on. Evan's eyes went wide, fear snapping him out of his lust-soaked haze. The dragon grinned at this, pressing down firmly on him and taking him harder. The otter's vague anxiety quickly turned to horror. His body was exhausted, his mind still heavy with the the dragon's toying. With the added pressure he couldn't move an inch. And he had already given him complete, irrevocable access. It was too late.
"No.." Evan muttered limply, "Please n-"
And then the dragon found what he'd been digging for. The otter felt something crack open inside his mind, something hard and sharp drive into something soft and squishy. His body seized weakly, tongue hanging limp, eyes dazed, gagging.
The otter screamed, then groaned, long and low like a death rattle. His whole body was fire, ice, electricity. Things that words could approach but not quite touch. He could feel every inch, every finger, every hair. And they burned with impossible, painful pleasure. His mouth stuttered, twisting and gasping incoherent bits of speech, desperate to say what he was feeling but utterly helpless to do so. As the dragon started to thrust again all thoughts burned away, everything melted to reflex. The otter clutched the creature's shoulders for dear life, only one thing left in his battered skull:
More, more, more, moremoremoremoreMORE!
The creature took him harder, faster, claws digging into his shoulders. And then, with a rumble, it took one last thrust. Hot, thick semen flooded into the otter, the long ridged shaft pulsing as it filled him. As if waiting for a cue the otter followed his captor, whimpering and gasping as his own length sprayed long, sticky white lines over his belly.
As soon as he did, Evan felt all the overload, all the crazed sensation slip away, replaced with the most amazing, relaxing tranquility he had ever felt. Everything went limp, loose. He looked up to the dragon, a wide, droopy smile spreading over his face as he met those emerald eyes one last time. Everything was good. Everything was perfect. Nothing could possibly be any better, any more perfect than it was right now. Struggling, the otter managed to form one slurred word though the limp, blissful grin.
"Maahsster..."
Dimly, he could feel a strange warmth spider-webbing through him, a new glow illuminating the room. Strange, ancient signs and twisting lines glowed a brilliant blue from beneath his fur. Seeing this, the dragon licked its long snout and bent down over him, mouth spreading wide, then snapping shut in the air just above Evan's chest, giving a sharp tug back and snapping a few more times, as if finishing something off. The otter's eyes went wide as he felt the dragon's teeth sink into him, into his being, and then rip it away. The otter gurgled a moment, twitched. His eyes rolled up in his head. His neck went limp. His head fell back on the panel. And everything went dark.