FSE

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The small, black-scaled kobold wiped sweat from his ridged, horned brow and took a moment to rest. He had started the laundry, swept the floors and gathered up the dishes and cups. Now he was reaching into far corners to dislodge the wispy cobwebs that appeared overnight from the spiderlings that resided in the deepest depths of the cave system.

His mistress lounged upon her precious treasure hoard, occasional clinks and clanks could be heard as she idly traced her talons through the coins and gems, satisfied sighs like the sweetest song to his sharp ears. She was soft and lovely, the palest pink, her noble body sparkling and fragrant, dressed in finest chiffon and lace. Her lilting voice could be heard at all hours of the day and night calling to him for sweets and treats and delicate cups of steaming amber tea.

A kobold was born to serve. Loyal and adoring, they viewed the majesty of their ancient dragon overlords as their Gods and Goddesses. They had power beyond imagining, soaring wings that made them a terror of the skies; scorching flames that could engulf the nations and a fiery temper to match. Claws the length of his forearm, rippling thighs larger than his head, pudgy tummies that they loved to have rubbed until they roared in laughter. In their eyes was the wisdom of the ages, in their mouths towering teeth that could shatter diamond and flattering tongues that could entrance even the most stalwart of adventurers.

His mistress was the most beautiful, he was sure of it. She may not be a warmonger, she may not devour virgins for supper, but with a sway of her hips she could bewitch any chaste Paladin into salacious acts. Her lips were the plumpest of pillows, her breasts the roundest and bounciest that you could fantasise of, with pert rosy nipples that showed under her enticing outfits.

He sighed, his ears drooping as he thought of her body stretched out over her collection. He was a good kobold servant. He attended his mistress's every need promptly and carefully and sometimes, just sometimes he was rewarded most graciously for his dedication.

He regarded his feather duster with a bright eye. At times, a cunning little kobold had to use a bit of persuasion.

With a pitter patter of long, orange-clawed feet, he trotted merrily into the Grand Chamber, his sweeping staff held aloft and a smile upon his cheeky face.

"Santharac," his mistress breathed gently, "are you clearing the cobwebs today? They come back so quickly, do they not?"

"Sure do!" he twisted it around, gathering up the milky tendrils to the annoyance of the spiderlings who chittered crossly in their crevices. "and they get everywhere. Look, there's one on you, too!"

"Pardon?" the great dragon was mildly bemused for a moment as the feathers brushed her body, softly sweeping, nudging up into her sparse negligee. "oooh!" she squealed with a wiggle, 'that tickles! San, you silly boy, you, oh, ooohh..."

He nudged the cleaning implement up over the swell of a breast, her chest heaving, the negligee material parting as her nipple was stroked by the delicate feathers. He grinned again with an impish waggle of his orange-scaled eye area.

Lips parted, a tongue running over them, "you work so hard for me, San, my sweet, What would I do without you?"

"Every day with you is a blessing, my mistress," he bowed, still keeping a greedy eye on the exposed chest before him, watching the lewd mounds rise and fall with her gasps. He moved his hand quickly, taking the cobweb-catcher down to her creamy inner thighs and letting it tickle close to her intimate area.

Purring and growling, she shifted on the amassed hoard, her tail knocking coins away, her feet clenching as she enjoyed his teasing. Her wings began to rustle.

He stood between her thick legs, moving closer to her puffy slit, the fragrance of her filling his small nostrils. Under his simple red loincloth he was throbbing and erect; it had been a while since he had received his portion of love and he wanted so much to claim it today.

"My Lady, my Mistress, my Goddess..." he chirped, circling her secret place until she moaned and locked onto his black eyes with her own glittering sapphire orbs.

"Come to me, my sweet San, let me feel you," she beckoned.

He tossed the duster to the cavern floor and scrabbled to get a hold of the excited dragoness, so much bigger than he was, until he fixed his entire mouth around her enlarged clit and began to suckle, expertly.

She squeaked, she held his head down with a hand (quite forcefully) and soon his snout was covered in aromatic cream. Beneath his cloth, his stiffened member seeped and twitched. He moved it aside to free himself, feeling his cock bounce, readily. His heart hammered. His breath came quickly as he was squished up against the dragon's entrance. He placed his hand inside, slowly and deliberately. He knew his mistress could take more - he'd seen her toys, carved from whole chunks of gemstone! Some nights he could hear her playing with them as he humped his cushion in his den, needily.

Not this time. Today he was going to pleasure his darling dragoness as best as he could.

Her hand relaxed with a dirty cry, lifting him up onto her round belly, his hard dragon rod finding her and sinking inside until she surrounded him. Her inner flesh was warm, wet, tight around him. His hand was still sticky from giving her his fist as he held on, jerking his hips to her melodious cries, panting as he quickened, his full balls slapping against her as he put every ounce of his strength into fucking her hard.

She leaned forward, her lips sloppy as she gave him precious kisses, her breasts cramping his head as she bent.

He was entirely enveloped in her body. They were one. She was rocking with his fast pace, letting him act as her toy as he pounded desperately, lost in passion, slipping his tongue into her maw to collide with her own, a passionate embrace of two partners on very different scales. Her belly rippled beneath his frenzied movements, her thighs trembled, she breathed in low moans, encouraging him to finish, to breed her well, to release in climax.

He was going to; he could feel his fat nutsack hanging heavy as it swung with his deep pushes, getting every inch of himself buried to the hilt in the finest dragoness pussy this side of the map. He was so lucky! He was so blessed! Getting to fill her, please her, breed her. No-one else got to finish inside of her; that was his own special treat! All his hard work, all those cups of tea, for these moments of pure bliss where a small lowly kobold could claim and fuck an ancient noble dragon of the highest status!

Sweat dribbled down into his eye, she was hot and horny and literally steaming. "My... Lady, my... love..." he pipped as he throbbed and ached, her pussy milking him like a stud at a farm. He gave one last thrust of his little hips, threw his dark, horned head back and growled a lusty growl as he let himself go. He erupted in thick, potent spurts. Powerful spasms gripped his loins as he came, pumping fertile ropes deep inside his mistress, making him snort ferally with dark smoke climbing from his nostrils.

"Such a good boy," she praised, stroking his spine and giving his rump a playful slap. "The best boy. You felt so good! I've had men of bigger size do less, my sweet."

Huffing and spent, he sagged down onto her soft body, his shoulders trembling, his balls empty, his cock softening. It was a peaceful moment, in the afterglow of the most amazing lovemaking.

She patted and fussed him a few moments longer, his creamy semen leaking over the treasure hoard.

He was going to have to clean it up, of course. He was going to have to clean his mistress up, too, though that wasn't such a chore.

"Be a sweet kobold servant and make me a cup of tea, will you, San?" she asked, gently.

"Of course, mistress. Anything for you. I love you completely." He didn't move.

"And I love you, too, San, darling. But I really need that cup of tea..."

With a sigh, he gathered what little strength he had left and rolled off of her massive body, landing with a damp thump. He groggily got to his large feet, adjusted his loin cloth to hide his now limp self, and shuffled off towards the kitchen, dutifully.

Back to business as usual!