An Ensnaring Predicament
This is a story commission I've done for Dargon0
Description: While brashly venturing in search of his recently captured mother, Tandran falls prey to the same vile people who took her. Bound with the same magic-suppressing fetters that had already stilled his mother's escape attempts, his only choice to free the two of them is to submit to the vilest of tasks imaginable.
That of mating the very dragoness he came to rescue.
The characters in this story belong to me
***An Ensnaring Predicament***
Tandran had long stopped struggling with the bindings tying his wings and limbs to the central harness piece latched over his chest. Though his captors adjusted the bindings to ensure a comfortable shuffle, they did nothing to prevent the chaffing and bleeding from the constant friction of hard, metal-infused leather against already frayed scales.
His webbed spines would have fared far worse, had the harness' design failed to account for them. And they didn't muzzle him either, comfortable enough with the protective wards erected by the enchanted medallions they wore. Such small and insignificant things, yet still able to deflect a dragon's flame breath like stones splitting a river's flow. He could test the legitimacy of their claims by incinerating the mage at the front of the column, but a few seconds wouldn't make a difference against magic far superior to his.
Worse, he'd just get the somewhat reasonable man irritated enough to consider further restraints. At least he addressed Tandran in the one human language he understood, able to reach a tenuous agreement, his obedience in exchange of leading him to his mother as their first priority.
The others cared little for what followed next. With their task completed, they now talked among themselves in their specific dialect, sharing taunts and jokes alike, none of them involving him. It was as if they escorted a pet half their size rather than a dragon who they barely reached at the shoulder. Now that the reality of his situation had had time to sink in, Tandran began to understand why it was so.
They understood a dragon's thought patterns inside and out, enough to set up the perfect ambush few among his kind were able to decipher. They had caught several dozen dragons by now, so what was one more?
His desperation had led him here, and his bravado had done the rest. Not that Tandran expected it to go any different, yet his youthful naivety goaded him on, self-convincing himself that his current experience amounted to something. With none of his other siblings to assist--let alone the aid of a clan he had deserted years ago for their impassiveness against the very men who added him to their captives--he stood little chance against a band of warriors led by a mage.
And not just any mage. A highly experienced one, well versed in the specific type of magic Tandran employed. Was that how they captured his mother? Without even drawing their blades? While their weapons looked none too different from the variety forged within cities, Tandran knew them to be far deadlier thanks to their enchantments. Attuned to the same magic flickering within him, they emitted a low, dismal thrum, a sound that had pushed his former clan past the brink of cowardice.
He considered extracting more information from his unusually patient and unconcerned captors, but he'd likely be told the same over and over. Persuading them through draconic means bore no meaningful results either. None of them tensed when Tandran hissed, snarled or growled. None broke the line when his chained neck jerked to bite the head off one of those shuffling simpletons.
To them, a dragon seemed no more dangerous than a hound, a troublesome truth that encouraged Tandran to remain subdued and bide his time while waiting for better opportunities. A dim hope, manifested solely because of his sand dragon bloodline. There was stone all around them, enough to bury the lot and he himself among them.
Assuming he could even tap his magical reserves, let alone channel them.? Threads of voidsteel embossed within the leather bindings fettering limbs, neck, tail and wings thinned his connection to his inner well of magic to barely a flicker. Yet he could still sense it, and if he focused hard enough, extract enough of it to surprise at least one of the non-magic wielders. Served them well for using materials of questionable purity in the making of their subduing contraption.
The desert men led Tandran through a gorge of jagged rocks and rising walls, twisted by the waters that once flowed through here. The hot, barren stone singed his vulnerable pads, causing his paws to jolt and flick in discomfort now and then. Such heat should have suffocated those with faces covered up to their eyes, but somehow they maintained pace, not even pausing to drink from their gourds hanging at their waist.
The higher the walls of the ravine grew, the wider the caves and crannies situated at various levels became. His group walked past those viable resting spots, moving further inside until the only remaining route led inside the belly of the earth.
The further they trodded into the dimly lit cavern, the lesser Tandran's thoughts of revenge grew at the cost of rising curiosity with this particular gang of dragon abductors.
All six of the male humans flanking him shared a similar height and constitution, wearing the same brown cloaks trailing along the uneven floor of the broadening tunnel. Their long-sleeved shirts had seen better days, same for their baggy brown pants or dusty head coverings that looked like bundled cloth. It also streamed down their neck to protect them from the desert's biting sun, their skin so vulnerable compared to his sandy colored scales. Through the dark veil shrouding half of their face, Tandran spotted their distinct eyes. Similar color, yet very different looks.
And not one trace of concern with the dragon they accompanied.
The mage at the head of the column was responsible for bolstering their bravery, wearing the exact same set of clothing to disorient possible assailants as to who wove magic amidst this group. Only, instead of a pair of swords at each hip, that one carried a runed baton inscribed with the same pattern etched within the center of Tandran's harness, responsible for every single one of the bindings inconveniencing him. The tail one was the worst, impeding his balance to the point of stumbling. It tied his upper calves and tail base together, letting half of his tail free to slam whoever he wished against the walls.
He had tried that once, only for the men to move inward, next to his flanks, and chuckle at his feeble attempts to resist. Their kind understood dragons well enough for Tandran's former clan to steer clear of their group, after all.
Not him. As soon as he heard of his mother's vanishing, he flew straight back to his old family to piece together the clues of her disappearance, which led him straight into the trap set by men who corralled him as if livestock. At least he had no mate to mourn his passing. No hatchlings to depend on him. As an outcast, he was free in all the ways his mother was not, her duty to the clan demanding that she increased their numbers with every heat.
That was why they took her. It came as no coincidence that she disappeared in the first week of the second summer month, right when her heat usually began. Most females needed years since their last clutch for their heightened fertility to manifest, but when it did, it always coincided with the period that had started the cycle.
This group somehow caught wind of this peculiar detail, likely ambushing her during one of her regular visits to the city to uphold the treaty signed with her clan.
Soft wrinkles began to form along the pebbly scales of his muzzle; pent-up rage directed at an entire clan of dragons shackled by primordial fear of the magic humans could summon. He shouldn't have been the only one concerned with her fate; not when she birthed generations of dragons prior to his equally ignorant clutch. While the harness he wore reminded him on a primeval level why that was so, the mage was still a human. One lapse in concentration, and his flame breath won over the decades it took him to master the arcane.
Assuming he broke through the ward granted by his medallion.
"You're a quiet one, dragon. Really quiet. Had you visited a few years back, you'd have made for a good recruit. We don't keep anyone who doesn't want to be here, and our line of work extends to a few areas you might find particularly meaningful." The mage slid his control rod into the scabbard dangling at his waist. Without direct contact with his skin, it might as well amount to a stick, but he already knew that.
Or did he?
Tandrann decided to test him out by lashing out with both wings and a lunging forepaw, only to flop belly-first in a heap of seething growls.
No gesture. No contact with the baton. The mage willed the rune-inscribed cords of thick leather to interpret his will without even chancing a look back at Tandran, as if anticipating his strike. Chewing through them would do him no good. Threads of voidsteel reinforced the mundane leather, suppressing his magic down to the tiniest detail of it. He couldn't even fish for the spark necessary to ignite his flame breath, thus completing his humiliation.
"Good that you removed whatever fight was left out of your system here, where we can still be reasonable absent the numerous gazes of our syndicate," the mage glanced at him from the corner of his eye, his emerald gaze sharp and threatening despite his calm, collected voice. "Most people here don't speak Elnerrian, a consequence of our nomadic habits, so they might mistake your playfulness for something far more offensive."
He was right. Going for the conventional methods wouldn't do him any good. If he retained his bearing--if he appeared well-mannered--they might simply discard him on account of being a pitiful whelp.
"Good. We don't intend to make this more complicated than it has to be, eh? It's also worth mentioning that you'll spend quality time with the very dragon you are after. Not the worst outcome I can think of."
Tandran only half-heard the words of the mage, too distracted by the echoing footfalls bouncing off the irregular walls of the musty tunnel. The permeating coolness reached into his blood and limbs, triggering reflexive shivers inside a realm that ought to be his to control. He had half a mind to challenge the mage to pit his earth magic knowledge against his, willing to trade away his freedom in exchange for that of his mother, but captives had no more bargaining power than the ants crawling in the gutters.
It only took a single turn for the shaft to expand into a wide, empty expanse of forking pathways. All around, the implements of civilizations surrounded him, including tents and workshops and even a stage large enough to fit a dragon. His clan often referred to these people as an underground society, but he never expected it to be so literal, nor for this cavern to be spacious enough to hold what seemed to be hundreds of them.
"Took less than a week and about ten mages to empty the belly of this mountain," the mage said as he reached for Tandran's reins. While the masked band of warriors escorting him appeared indifferent to him, the unmasked humans immediately abandoned their tasks, preparing to bolt at any given moment.
Dirt-caked faces. Wide eyes. Fingers tight around tools and weapons. Not quite the trained, battle-hardened, homogeneous group, were they? Tandran also spotted patches of normalcy among them, where people milled about, performing their usual tasks of blacksmithing, leatherworking, cooking and tending to their battle gear. A little girl even dared to approach him, giggling and reaching for his snout.
A scorning woman dragged her away, flashing a challenging glare at Tandran, as if that could somehow intimidate him.
"Keep your frills tucked," The mage jerked the reins to rush him to keep pace. "You wouldn't be the first to lash out at those who are under our protection."
He meant the defenseless craftsmen, traders, quartermasters and whoever else made this puzzling society of miscreants. The townsfolk of the nearest city despised them as much as his clan did, but in the end, they took after the dragon example of leaving them to their own devices.
Too many losses for too little gain, as the human strategists would put it.
Tandran and his group continued through one of the several arteries leading out of the main chamber. Rooms carved onto the sides, barred by doors set in too precise shapes to be achieved through any other methods but magic, tugged at the drake's curiosity as the squelching of his pads mixed with the rhythmical thumps of boots. Whoever dwelled here was anyone's guess, but the faint claw marks on the stone floor set Tandran's spines alert.
Dragons used to be kept here, but not at the moment. Other than the sour, snout-wrinkling reek of his squad, no softer, graceful scents graced his nostrils.
Aside from one, laced with unmistakable familiarity at the far end of the corridor. It stirred Tandran's heart into a frenzied rhythm, his webbed tail tip twitching incessantly to cope with the nerves rattling his scales with their chilling shudders. That had to be it. The room he dreaded to visit. The indecency of his inability to secure a mate kept him from reestablishing contact with her, for what son possessed the audacity to return to his mother without this simplest of accomplishments?
Well, he brought himself here now, in chains and vulnerable, a fitting visage for one who had yet to find his place in the world.
The group halted in front of the steel door bearing the unmistakable scratch marks of dragons. Already could Tandran smell the subtle traces of sweet heat peering through side gaps or wafting in more generous quantities through the broader space under the door, its spicy fragrance perversely stimulating. Though it started as little more than a subtle tingle nudging his underbelly muscles, Tandran stepped away from it, anxiously stomping at the floor with increasingly fretful paws.
"Don't worry," the mage's eyes narrowed in sympathy as he spoke in the language only he understood. "You'll only be attended by me. Or perhaps it will only be your mother that bears witness to how her condition affects your body. I've seen my fair share of dragon rutting, siblings and parents included. When it comes down to it, a vent's a vent, eh?"
Tandran shuddered. A dragon, quivering at a few words.
The mage noticed his low-hanging spines and the folding frills of his cheeks. In response, he signaled the men to disperse, uttering something in their dialect.
After sharing one last round of high-spirited words and friendly gestures, the men patted his haunches in turns, grunting words on those high, praise-like notes.
"They're not new to it either, so that makes you the only one who's still at odds with it." The composed man took note of the drake's anxiously scratching claws and more animated tail. "She hasn't been harmed any more than you've been. Barring the discomfort of her situation, Tennara's quite the remarkable female, quick to adapt to any given situation. A shame I left her tied up, but not all reunions are approached on a level-headed matter. Wonder how this one'll turn out."
Tandran's seething glare was the answer the mage needed to stir the door into motion, sliding it to the side using the enchantments carved into it. Stronger, spicier musk flooded his nostrils, weakening his legs at the cost of tightening his nether muscles.
Tandran shook his head, emitting a low snarl aimed at his thinning focus. Don't dwell on it. His mother's safety. That was what mattered the most. What had they done to her? In which way did they subdue her? Tennara's temper was as bright and vivid as her flame-like coloring. She'd sooner collapse this entire tunnel upon herself if it meant taking at least one captor with her, all for the sake of preserving her dignity.
The truth of the matter proved to be far more different. The dragoness whose dim, sunken gaze regarded Tandran struck the picture of one who had resigned with their fate. Who had given up struggle.
Who had accepted their lot in life.
Tandran's jaw hung in shocked indecision as to what he should do, but the mage made the choice for him by tugging him forth by his bridle.
"Come along," he said, twisting his fingers in the pattern necessary to shut the door behind them. "Approach her. Greet her if you will, if that's what it takes to get you going."
It had to be the fetters; those horrendous coils braided from a thousand voidsteel threads smothering every chance of struggle. She wore no harness; in her case, the restraints lashed out from round holes within the ground to part her haunches, to join her forepaws together, to splay her wings over the floor. Her tail fared the worst, embraced by the chafing clutch of a row of several void ropes, the light-colored underside pink and raw around them.
"Tennara consented to the precautions we must take in order to ensure mutual safety," the mage walked in first, guiding Tandran to follow with his baton. "She's been with us for what? Four days now? Enough to form an understanding, at the very least, one in which I hope you can join us. Otherwise..."
The fastenings around Tennara's limbs tightened, dragging her haunches an inch further to the side over her irritated hiss.
"He must see," the man accurately guided the voidsteel to subtly tighten, to slowly coil or move, employing enough force to be coercive without causing harm to the subdued dragoness. "I wouldn't take my word for it either if I'm not shown the repercussions for bad behavior."
Still she did not snarl, refusing to give satisfaction to the man who spread her over the ground like some prey ready for butchering.
"Enough of this," Tandran rushed for the mage, only to crumple onto his belly once the bindings of his paws restrained him.
"It's enough when I consider it to be enough," the mage's voice retained its eerie calmness while he proved to the both of them one crucial point, that neither was safe from his attentions. "If the past taught me one thing, it is that insubordination is a nefarious weed thriving on hope. It feeds on the belief that either of you can find a way to distract me long enough to put an end to all this."
Both of their constraints tightened, pulling on their limbs to draw out muffled gasps of discomfort from the two dragons. His grip over the magic he employed borrowed from his demeanor, refined yet firm, demanding its toll of needed submissiveness.
"You have proven your point." Tennara gave in first, emerald eyes meeting Tandran's wide, shocked amber ones. "And you have tried your ineffective methods on my son already. He's not going to do anything you wish of him, but he will listen to me. He will listen...to his mother..."
A heavy, almost pained sigh fled her widened nostrils, her toes scrunching under the weight of the same fear pressing against his heart. Seeing her like that, frills sagged, gaze downcast, with limbs stretched at almost painful angles instilled surreal panic within him. In that very moment, he'd have done whatever the mage wished of him, if only to see his mother freed.
"Don't mind if I do," the mage returned enough mobility for her head and limbs to slump back into place. "Words delivered from a mother's tongue can indeed move mountains, especially in the case of a son so eager for reunion."
In an instant, the cords of voidsteel-threaded leather loosened around Taldran's feet and wings and tail, allowing him to regain the dignity of standing up instead of wallowing in despair.
"Leave us to it," Tennara's audacious tone drew from the inner strength he discovered, eager to end this charade one way or the other. "Grant us the privacy necessary to...perform what is required, and you shall receive expected results."
"Glad we have reached an understanding." The mage stepped to the side of her aloft hind paw, an outstretched left hand inviting Tandran over her splayed tail. "If you please. Our syndicate requires you to witness that no hurt, other than mild discomfort, has come to her. Once I receive confirmation that you are indeed apt to perform, I shall take my leave."
His sheepish wink did not leave much room to guess as to what his request implied, nor did the distance he put between himself and the two dragons. Tandran barely focused on his distancing form, more concerned with the state of his mother. The bare voidsteel clutching her below the wrists or coiling just under the pads of her hind paws created patches of pink soreness within the crevices separating her scratched scales.
But that was just their apparent effect.
For all her bravado, Tennara barely restrained her panic, a clue shrouded from her captor's eyes, but naked before his. She tried to keep still; to prevent producing the dreadful sound of muffled rattling coming from below. Was it a device? A mass of still metal snakes animated solely by magic? Not knowing what it was that trapped her achieved desired effect on any dragon, even the confident, pragmatic Tennara.
In spite of her precarious situation, her magnificence had yet to be tarnished. The tangerine coloring of her scales, like that of the sun sinking below the mountains, made Tandran's sandy tones look dull by comparison. Thin, brownish, undulating stripes forked across her back, their fading end lapping at the softening color of the scales dotting her flanks, shifting into a light, vulnerable tan that ineffectively concealed the state of her puffed up sex.
Tandran's eyes lingered there for several more seconds than they should have, paying too little attention to the state of her wings bound in three different spots to assure their complete lack of struggle. Though he inherited their striped pattern, like jagged clouds drifting along an indifferent horizon, Tennara's inherited the sharper coloring of her stripes whereas his were a dull brown too quick to fade, without even reaching the middle of his wing's membrane. A similar situation happened with their frills, where hers boasted splotches of alluring color whereas the blankness of his had no attractive, no expressive coloration to help stir a female's interest.
"Pleased with her condition?" the mage's voice sounded low, subdued, distant. Tandran's head snapped in its direction, finding him sat atop a wobbling stool that couldn't find purchase upon the even floor due to a short, fourth leg. "You may approach. You can even rub snouts together or do what it is that brings you peace. Whatever helps expedite this process is most welcome, so long as the main goal of this reunion burns bright at the forefront of your mind."
The immensity of his request reminded the stunned drake why his mother looked so familiar yet so foreign at the same time. He wished for nothing more than to share her embrace, to lick off the dust caking her cheeks and whisper how sorry he was for delivering himself into the open hands of this mage.
But he couldn't, for the moment he approached her, that rough, stale scent wafting from her slightly parted lips would...it would...
Tandran drew back a few steps, snorting as much of it out of his system as he could manage, trying to breathe through his mouth instead. It seemed to work at first. At least until the mage spread open her haunches just a little further and in turn, to show more of the drenched pinkness that her puffed-up mound usually concealed.
"That's why she's here for. That is why she is still bound. Because you refuse to help relieve her on all accounts."
Up close, the mage seemed small, pitiful, a pile of rags and sweat. But from afar, with his rod cradled between two hands while his astute gaze took note of every exchange between him and his mother...
Now that scared Tandran. The inability to read his expression, the anxiousness of never knowing when patience might give way to frustration.
"He's right, Tandran," his mother's curt, almost indifferent reply distracted him from the impassive figure biding his time, waiting for the proper moment to manipulate his sadistic contraptions into subduing either of them. "The longer it takes, the more difficult it'll be to do what needs to be done. Shed your nerves. Empty your mind. Take in my scent, and let it drown whatever doubts you harbor. Trust instinct to guide you, for it is never wrong."
The request rammed against Tandran's psyche like the headbutt of his sister, swift, sudden and merciless. It...it was real, wasn't it? He had...he had to actually...
Tandran swayed on his feet, his mind awash with the dizzying dread of stark realization. The irresistible scent of her heat. The wide gap between her haunches, large enough for his body to comfortably fit. Her flushed sex with its plump, heat-engorged lips, drooling its entrancing honey in such generous rivulets they pooled at the base of her tail, emphasizing her clenched, vulnerable tailhole.
The shame. The degradation. The impossible to conceive feeling of not only bearing the clutch of a son, but to have it stolen one egg at a time as soon as she began laying. Tandran had no strength left to speak; no thoughts to line up a plan of action in order to do something--anything--that might avert this terrible outcome. His mind was as blank as his stare, his body petrified by indecision.
What would happen to either of them if he chose to fight? Surely they wouldn't harm a dragoness apt for breeding. Would they?
The mage's audible sigh snapped Tandran's focus back to him, his entire frame quivering from having that simplistic yet terrible baton pointed straight at him.
"Even your mother is losing her patience. What does that say to you, son of hers? What is she hinting at?" He nodded with that terrible tool, using its motion to unclasp the fastenings around his limbs and tail, forcing them to slip into designated sockets within the main body of the harness as if they were live snakes.
"It is easy to stand there and judge her for her choices when you've only just arrived. How much freedom do you think Tennara had enjoyed these past few days? How frustrating is the heat pulsing within her sex that gives her no reprieve? Carefully weigh the answer and match it against what, a minute of your time? And then poof!" he dramatically gestured with his hands. "No more voidsteel. No more incessant throbbing down there. No more...me."
Tennara's bindings lessened in unison with his words. He even went as far as to release her sinuous neck and forelegs, giving her ample freedom to lash out with her fangs or incinerate him in a single breath.
She did neither, preferring to stare him down with the look of a predator that had yet to determine the opportune moment to strike.
"No need for mean glares, Tennara," he wiggled his baton to menacingly brush those voidsteel serpents over her shoulders, chin set atop his fist as he leaned forward in perverse excitement. "And let's not forget your previous lapse. Even I, your captor, believe that your virgin son deserves more than to mate the immobile, unexpressive, unable to even moan semblance of a female."
The creases of rage faded from the slim snout of the captive dragoness. Already could Tandran notice struggle fleeing her body as her limbs relaxed in their fetters, their verve washed away by a solemn blink. She then turned to him, craning her head to utter a simple request, frills fanned out to expose their faint orange stripes edging them.
"Don't fight. Don't think. Just focus on your duty."
Don't...fight...
Then what? What was he to resort to, if not to at least attempt to...?
The calming breath he sucked in as a means to set his thoughts in order clouded his mind even further. Tennara's heady musk rushed into his nostrils, a hypnotic breeze that appealed to one single desire tingling and growing between his legs one pulse, one throb at a time. He couldn't stop it any more than he could free his wings from their chafing bindings, and even though his legs now regained their full mobility, the drake remained stuck in place, restrained by the phantom clutch of former restraints.
"You came here to free us. So free us in the only way left to you," Tennara cooed, forepaws reaching out, desperate to reconnect with him.
Though her neck stretched as far as the fastenings latched across her chest permitted, she still couldn't make it halfway to Tandran's snout. Instead of covering the rest of the distance to share the warmth of her pebbly scales, Tandran drew back, puzzled by her dismal mentality.
She didn't think clearly. Heat did that to a female, blotting out reason beneath a crushing wave of longing to be with a male.
Even if said male happened to be her son.
His tongue flicked over his snout to stop this unnatural lust growing deep within him; to wipe away the inebriating scent of carnal longing pulling at every fiber of his body.
"This doesn't look like any foreplay I've witnessed, and there's been a few..."
"He is going to do it," Tennara's voice acquired a tinge of alarm, evident in her expressive gaze attempting to communicate her foremost worries to Tandran. To the new captive who needed to adjust to his current situation, and fast. "He will be the one. You won't have to go through the trouble of capturing another."
Through her sharp glare, she reinforced what he already knew. Tandran was the only male capable of fulfilling this duty at the present time. She also preferred him. Him! Her own flesh and blood over--
Over the uncertainty of being paired with a far worse alternative, of which these people could procure many, had they the inclination to go through the discreet channels within the nearest town. Dragon mercenaries arrived from all corners of the world to bask in the luxury provided by humans, scarred brutes who saw the vent and not the female.
The drake's gut twisted and churned, flooded by guilt, by apprehension at his inability to set things right. His sisters were right; he made things worse with his presence.
Or right, depending on how much mental anguish he could save his mother by being the one to give her a clutch both would soon forget. They would just be eggs, with no name or face associated with them. That was the cost of freedom.
"Seems like we're making some progress. Perhaps a little more trust is in order."
Feeling that he no longer had need of the facial coverings, the mage uncovered the strong, bony cheeks of a man hardened by the unforgiving setting he chose as his home. There was not a single hard feature on his even jaws, smooth brow or clean-shaven chin, proving that evil wore as many forms as there were people. Instead, the grimness of his station came from the starkness of his green eyes, so similarly colored yet so different compared to those of his mother.
"Consent to it," he demanded of Tandran. "Consent is what differentiates us humans from the savage tribes of barbarians who keep their women unclothed down below, so that their warriors can enter them on a whim. Do indulge me this little frivolity, so I can leave this room with a clear conscience," he said while squeezing the plump, pink pads on the short toes of one of Tennara's hind paws.
The dragoness paw tried to keep still; to withstand the uncomfortable groping and poking. But instead of a hiss, a gentle, relieved sigh rolled past Tennara's surreally relaxed lips, as if she didn't mind whatever the thrice-damned human tried to accomplish.
"We kept her fed, bathed, and even learned a few tricks to help relieve all that tension locked within her body," the mage said, pressing his thumbs into the central region of two toe pads, drawing the tips of her claws out. "Looks more mundane than it feels, but she favors such small attentions, and I prefer to befriend dragons one paw stroke at a time, if need be."
He dared say that even as the wrinkles of defiance creased the pebbly scales of her snout.
The mage saw that too, but moved over to her bigger, central pad, working his thumbs over its surface with enough pressure and control to draw a frail, short-lived hum of satisfaction.
"See how anger gives way to pleasure?" he spoke while the dexterous movements of his fingers left Tennara unable to voice her own opinion. Though her jaws shuddered with it, the dragoness' flexing toes, shuddering haunches and quivering vent portrayed stark truth of what a select touch could accomplish on a vulnerable female.
Even when it belonged to a human she ought to despise.
"Enemies can be civil with one another. Friendly, even. In a different life, we could have done this without the need of these dour restraints, but the safety of my people and the security of your neighboring kingdom relies on our tradesmanship, so we each have to play our part in this never-ending chain of negotiations."
This was it. The perfect opportunity to pounce this mage and end him. Instead of springing into motion, Tandran's freed limbs remained frozen in disbelief, his pads encased in icy dread while the mage leaned over her vent, teasing the edge of her engorged lips with a trailing finger, his head constantly turning to check for reactions.
Other than huffs of anticipation, no sign of enmity appeared on Tennara's snout, nor did it manifest in her expressive spines. On the contrary, her frills twitched and perked, nostrils wide and ready to suck in a sharp breath in case he...
The mage no longer waited, sinking four of his fingers into her without even being granted permission.
"Khrrr!" Tennara's head lashed forward, jaws snapping at the intrusion. All it took was a feeble motion. A simple swish of his fingers inside her for the dragoness' eyelids to shudder; for her jaws to slacken and allow soft, moaning gasps.
"She had her chance to stop me, but why would she?" the mage drawled over the wet sounds of his fingers roaming through her fleshy insides. "Who in her position would fight back pleasure? And in exchange for what? Fewer benefits? Lessening trust? Look at it well, drake. This is where Tennara's maturity edges out your youthful ignorance."
She didn't fight it. She accepted it. Surrendered to it as if splaying for her mate. The sight of her lips, twitching with the flow of pleasure, infuriated Tandran. She shouldn't have given in like that! And to a miserable human nonetheless! She could...she could have...
The drake reeled a step back, snorting and wheezing the flood of pheromones rushing past the squelching, sputtering entrance of a dragoness at the peak of fertility. She smelled sharp and raw with need, a pungent musk brewed with the most alluring spice known to males.
Even with his point proven, the man refused to settle for just a short demonstration. He remained inside her, slipping his entire hand further in, pumping in and out a few times until Tennara's limbs and wings began to jerk within enchanted binding that refused to give any ground.
As if to preserve whatever dignity she still held, the dragoness' curled her head forward, slapping her paws over her snout to blot out any shameful sound that might stroke the man's ego.
Not that he needed it. Her violent shudders, accompanied by wilder tremors squirting thicker fluids to the surface of her sex was all he needed to slow down, to let her savor the thickness of his hand inside her while her orgasm dwindled.
"There..." he softly whispered under his breath while caressing her more vividly colored vent, reddened with the deeper hues of arousal. "It doesn't take long, does it? Less than a minute to the untested cock of a young drake filled to the brim with his first seed. Thrust, ejaculate, walk away. It is that simple."
Tennara's head remained arched forward, eyes scrunched tight as if refraining from gazing upon what the mage did to her without employing a shred of magic.
It was vile. Obscene, to let her soaked in her own fluids.
And Tandran couldn't stop staring, least of all control the spasms rushing through his jutting erection. He didn't remember growing. So absorbed was he in the feast of scents and erotic sights that the realization of his depravity hit him only when the mage began to approach him, fluids-coated hand outstretched.
"If you don't trust my words, then trust the scent and taste of your mother," the despicable man took advantage of his lack of reaction to smear his mother's heat over the tip of his snout, smiling at the way its intensity rocked his frame. "Let it guide you to purpose, so that this all comes to a favorable end."
A single whiff. That's all it took for his body to fill with perverted elation. Though his tongue swirled to wipe away the inebriating aroma, the taste of it proved even more enrapturing, reminding his wildly jerking cock that he had never smelled nor tasted a female before, let alone enter one.
"Wait outside," Tennara urged the only one who could witness the fulfillment of her obligation. "We'll summon you when the result is plain to see."
The human scrunched his nose, quirking a bushy eyebrow. "Even if it takes the entire night for Tandran to come to fruitful conclusion?"
"I don't plan to remain a slave to your contraptions any more than you enjoy keeping me captive," Tennara hissed back at him, kicking her hind paws as much as her bindings allowed.
"Now that's one logic I wholeheartedly approve of," the man clicked his tongue to at least entertain her proposition. "I trust you, but your son seems as confused with his position as he is dazed by the flood of pheromones battling for control in his head."
His mother's eyes sought his bewildered ones for confirmation, finding not a courageous male, but a coward cringing in self-loathing with his poor impulses.
"All the more reason to let me handle him, dragon to dragon."
"Dragon to dragon, then," the mage bowed forward in a gracious gesture, smiling from the corner of his mouth. "Should've said so since the beginning and save us all the unnecessary wait."
Tennara pointed the mage out with a forepaw, given that her tail found itself unable to.
"Of course. However..." the mage said, his meaning rattling ominously as the cords tying Tennara's limbs retreated an inch or two into the ground to both restrain her mobility and spread her haunches suggestively. "I feel that too much freedom is as nefarious as too little, and we don't want you too comfortable. Otherwise, there would be no point to the theatrics."
With that ominous message delivered, he left her bound and helpless, flicking his impassive fingers on the way out to drag the gates shut. The moment they banged together, Tandran shot for the closest binding, biting it from several angles, employing every combination of teeth he had in his maw. In the end, he achieved nothing but bleeding gums as well as a sharp, disapproving hiss from his mother.
"Still the immature whelp you are..."
Tandran froze. This was the first time his mother verbally snapped at him, for words were the last thing she had left while tied and helpless. His erection hesitated as well, its arching swings weakening, the firmness of the barb-like nubs bordering his spade lessening.
"I have to free you," Tandran whimpered out his reply, words dimmed, subdued, as robbed of choice as his mother. "There must be a way, a means to..."
"A means to keep me in this state for several more days until another takes your place?" Tennara's frills sagged, crest spines splaying along her skull in spite of the frustration smoldering within her eyes.
"Better for my son to enter me than a dragon robbed of innocence who knows no kindness nor compassion. So do it," she kicked her limbs and thrashed her wings to emphasize the state in which she languished. "Do it before he comes back and deems you unfit for the task."
How? How could she maintain her composure? To retain her dignified look even as she lied in a small puddle of her previous climax?
The whirlwind of emotions associated with such despicable act fully prevented him from indulging in what his instinct goaded him on to do with every breath he took. He just...he couldn't claim his mother as his first.
But he had the ability to soothe her struggle. To help alleviate the nefarious heat drenching the entirety of her lower belly after what the mage did to her.
Tennara scrunched her muzzle and flared her frills at his sluggish approach, undoubtedly irate with his complete lack of initiative. The fretting of her hind paws, jerking and tugging back, directed his meek gaze away from the ice-encased pads he wished to bathe in the warmth of his tongue, forcing him to face his goal with no previous preparation.
Whatever complaint his mother had on the tip of her tongue mellowed into a drawn-out sigh once his tongue graced the scales at the base of her haunches. The rattling of chains completely died down, her body turning strangely still under the caress of his increasingly broad and resolute tongue strokes.
She tasted so strong yet so pleasant! Tandran could practically taste her sexual frustrations, congealed in the fluids his tongue diligently scooped.
"Keep...keep going..." Tennara's voice lost its sharpness, growing soft and mellow, akin to the increasingly softer scales giving way to the flushed, naked hide surrounding her vent.
Tandran's snout jerked away from the source of her scent, too potent, too raw for him to still cling to sanity. He wished to groom her, first and foremost. To comfort her. That was all he intended to achieve, far too bothered by how that gooey slime, cloudy in places where tendrils of her female ejaculate had spurted out of her, clung to her pristine scales. Yet the more he kept at it, the wider and hungrier the dashes of his tongue became, trading their elegance away in favor of satiating his ever-growing addiction with the taste of stale, pungent heat.
A deep, guttural rumble roused within his throat. His paws became firmer, the warmth of certainty filling his pads once again. Though he started with an outstretched neck tentatively reaching for her vent, Tandran moved further in, setting a dominant forepaw on the inside of her haunch to keep her body from careening under the sway of pleasure. The more confident and hearty tongue strokes intensified the quivers rushing through Tennara's underbelly, her soft, purring moans resonating with the frenzied beatings of his heart, guiding him to where he needed to be.
Not yet. Not until he accomplished his initial goal, of completely sweeping away and swallowing the musky fluid that his senses desperately craved for. It didn't taste too jarring, nor too obvious. Without dwelling on it, the pheromone-laden concoction felt to his tongue like diluted honey, sharp yet gentle.
That all changed when he paused for breath. Suddenly, all of the muted details hit him at the same time, causing him to stumble back in sheer overwhelm. His mind reeled, drowned by one too many stimuli. Shudders of arousal rocked his being, crawling under his scales like rivers of molten fire. Tennara's taste expanded into a sea of infinite meanings, too deep, too complicated to even fathom.
Tandran instinctively tried to snort her juices out of his nostrils, but there was no escaping the clutch of her allure. Tart, fragrant aroma littered every part of his tongue. It stuck in the back of his throat, unwilling to be dislodged no matter how often he swallowed. He hated feeling his mind dim, sunken beneath the pull of instinct, yet the rush of fertility couldn't be denied. His mother or not, the primal hunger awoken deep within him demanded to be satiated.
Rather than stick to her tail and to the sides of her haunches as initially intended, the brown drake immediately aimed for her puffy mound, bucking into it with light shoves of his muzzle, licking and slurping the intoxicating fluids meant for this exact purpose. Nothing else mattered but the spicy undertones sparking his lust to life. Logic no longer had room in a head filled by pounding need; in a body rocked by tremors of shocked satisfaction with discovering this well of endless euphoria.
"Mrrrm...yesss, just so..." Tennara's paws jerked weakly in their sockets, eyelids fluttering under the heavy onslaught of shallow, uncoordinated tongue thrusts lapping at her folds. "Thrust your tongue deep within. Swirl it. Take into yourself the...primordial guidance...awwrrhh!"
"Grawwwr!" Tandran's lewd growl mirrored her own. The addled male snapped himself out of that trance, the fetters of his wings rustling in protest against his efforts to free himself of those damned bindings. Slimy fluids coated the tip of his soggy snout, worming their way down over Tennara's quivering lips. For a brief moment, Tandran couldn't recollect the reason he stopped. It made no sense to wrestle himself off such grand prize that blossomed for him and him alone. Though barely a speckle nestled between her tight walls, the pink, fleshy insides of Tennara beckoned to him, triggering a reflexing thrust of his hips.
"I...I'm...I don't know why..." Tandran's claws jutted out of his toes, tethering him back to reality. "I...I simply wanted to..."
"Mmmm, don't speak. Don't think. Don't resist the crave hardening your member with purpose," Tennara warbled softly, affectionately, the warmth of her gaze luring him against her expecting cheek.
He couldn't. No matter how much he wanted to share comfort with her, to let her tongue lick away his anxiety. He had to keep her at distance, for the moment he faltered, the mage won.
"Tandran....Tandran..." his mother called to him, her words splashing at the shores of his blurred conscience. "There is no escaping this. In a few moments, he will return, and that man--that man has his way of handling things. Better that it happens now, while we are both...prepared..."
Her resigned sigh had a weight to it. Not the dread of committing to this depraved act, nor the guilt of coercing him into performing it.
It was yearning. A perverse crave to escape the fetters ensnaring her for the briefest of moment. To soar past the edges of her consciousness and bask in the boundless ocean of carnal delight that her instinct hungered for.
"Lick me. Like you have licked before. It will come natural to you, and once your member knows the silken warmth of a female, nothing else in the world would matter. You'll be safe from it all, cradled in the loving embrace of my body."
Wrought with incertitude, Tandran gritted his teeth. The remorse of claiming his own mother raked his soul raw, but to have the mage return--to have her endure who knew what punishments for his failure to act...
That, he could not tolerate.
It took surprisingly little to return his lips upon her trembling mound; for his tongue to slurp and flick over the valley nestled between her puffed up folds. Though he sealed his eyes shut to picture Hrenna, the female that plagued his wet dreams, the effects of his attentions bestowed upon Tennara's sex shuddered against his muzzle. They rattled on each side of him as her restless paws fretted within their bindings, all while her melodious murmur sailed into his very soul.
He knew, from the velocity of his member's lurches, that pushing through the tightness of her clamped up walls would break past his thinned resolve. While his coherence still lasted amidst the musky haze of titillating longing, Tandran ripped himself free of the rivulets of honey clinging to his tongue, rushing to align his body with her. It was a crude, unceremonious and awkward display given his bound wings and her chained legs, yet her paws alighted on his shoulders to reinforce her steadfastness. A hushed, furtive moan sailing past her slackened tongue goaded him on, bringing his eager tip ever closer to where he needed to be for both of their sake.
Simply meeting the surface of her sex with the tapered end of his tip was enough to trigger Tandran's reflexive thrust. Too easily he pushed himself through her pathetic defense, her soggy flesh squelching audibly while parted by his eager shove. Her quivering muscles couldn't stop him. The lightly ridged texture of her walls failed to deter him. His heart lodged all the way up into his throat, Tandran committed himself fully to the whims of his instinct. He followed the maddening urge--the throbbing need--to sink himself down to the last ridge inside the most wonderful shelter his cock had ever known, forsaking sanity for the blissful relief of unbound delight.
It was so warm, so wet, so overwhelming to his virgin member! Tandran's hips bucked out of their own accord, plunging him too deep, too fast for what was to be a tentative thrust at most. His senses never felt so strained nor so dulled at the same time as his entire world shrunk into that pocket of shuddering bliss encasing him within its silky caress.
"Hraaawww....!" The drake's hoarse cry raked its way through his throat. All of his limbs trembled, flooded by the ecstasy of having his spade squeezed so tight; by the breath-stealing sensations coursing through the taut ridges growing ever thicker from the middle of his member and all the way to the base. The last few shouldn't have popped in without an ounce of effort, but Tennara's former climax facilitated that, freezing him inside her, locking him within her depths due to the strong, overpowering clenches radiating outward from her powerful nether muscles.
"You're so hard. So hard, and so close," she licked at his snout, at his brow, targeting spots she knew to be highly vulnerable. "Don't hold back. Let go of your seed. Trust your instinct to be right."
No, this...this was anything but right! He knew it, deep down in his heart, that such repulsive act should have sickened him, but his lust-driven body begged to differ. All those great and terrible sensations coursing through him spawned from Tennara's pleasure-filled contractions; from the gentle embrace of a mate calling upon her lover to share his innermost essence with her. It might have started wrong, but it felt so right, so good, so...illogical to wrestle against his very reason for existing.
Tandran tried to tether himself back to reality, rebelling with everything he had against that foul, primeval urge settling over his mental faculties like a suppressive veil. This was his mother, and she was in heat. If he dared to let go--to quit fighting--then even a drop of his seed would be enough to....
"Mrmmmm..." Tandran's strained growl smoldered between his gritted teeth. The muscles within his limbs tensed to their limits in the effort to draw him out from that sanctuary of ceaseless temptation, yet with every soaked ridge he wrested out of her squelching tunnel came a stronger response from Tennara's overly excited canal. He vividly felt the lightly ridged flesh of her insides mold around him to restrain him in place. He couldn't deny the effectiveness of her suckling vent that tugged at the engorged rings of flesh surrounding his base. Huffs of frustration and pleasure alike burst out of the drake's nostrils, joined by wisps of white smoke populated by crackling sparks of his barely restrained fire.
Whatever attempts he made to withdraw ended up in failure, turning into short, sloppy thrusts serving to stoke the immensity of all he held within every fiber of his being. His mother should have helped him resist, but instead, the gentle strokes of her paws gliding over his neck disarmed him. Her wet, warm licks lapped away his resistance, just as the nibbles on the sensitive scales of his throat chipped away his sanity one soft bite at a time.
Her soft, gentle moans. Those too frequent and numerous shudders. Everything compounded into this one moment of inebriating titillation that enraptured Tandran's senses. Whatever fight he still possessed fled along with a short, accidental spurt of seed that he quickly subdued. His tip never burned hotter, consumed by a mystifying pleasure he could no longer deny.
"Awh...awkk.." the drake's claws scratched at the floor in sudden, rapid bursts while his hips jerked and swayed, pumping his throbbing girth as deep as his ridges allowed inside the tight, welcoming embrace of a female. There was no more rhythm to those final, instinct-driven thrusts. No gentleness. Just raw, unrestrained passion, joined in by Tennara's shrilling cry as her inner walls lost fight with the immense stimulation provided by his barbed spade.
"Rawwwwwwwwwwh!" Tandran's cry joined hers, a chorus of obscene harmony within which they both immersed. Her cascading ripples of passion stimulated the flow of his own seed, easing every spurt of thick, virgin essence into her through rhythmical squeezes alternating in intensity. To Tandran, this salacious massage felt as if her muscles milked the very soul out of his being, depleting him of pent-up sexual frustrations amassed over years of depressing solitude.
He should have fought back. He should have rejected this utter feeling of relief straining his sanity to a thin, tattered sheet.
But he didn't. He accepted it. He embraced it, every one of his throbs new and intimate and overwhelming to his shocked senses. He couldn't stop the flow of his seed any more than he could release his mother, finding himself imprisoned by heat-stricken depths too hungry to differentiate son from mate. So long as his cock remained hard, her walls clamped, squeezed and loosened in short bursts, chocking the breath out of him, draining the stamina from his shaking legs until he collapsed atop her. A few final jets of his thinner, lesser quality seed lanced their way past his tip, adding to the already overflowing load he filled her with. He could practically feel the excess semen tickle his ridges as it throbbed out of her, painting their underbellies with the shameful musk of a forced union.
"Ghhrr...hrrr..hrrr..." Tennara's low, satisfied thrum sailed over his intermittent gasps. The only discordance came from the sharp twang of stubborn metal resisting her attempts to fold her haunches around him, preventing her tail from curling with his. The mage had designed their entrapment for one singular purpose; for his cock to remain inside her splayed form until it dried and shriveled, fully emptied of the abundance of his first seed.
"You freed us," Tennara pressed her snout against his, licking him as if she would her mate. Tandran should have drawn back and reject her unnatural advance, but his jaws slackened instinctively, allowing the tip of her tongue to meet his. Their kiss lasted for the briefest of moments, interrupted by the onrush of logic dispelling Tennara's vexing afterglow.
"You did what you had to," her caressing pads, awash with vivid excitement, cupped and kneaded at his cheeks. "Never feel ashamed for what happened. True courage is finding the will to move on no matter the obstacle, and that is what we shall both do. They think us broken and weak, forgetting that such petty vulgarity amounts to so little during the span of our long, fulfilling lives."
Tandran's head leaned into the embrace of her paws; against the slender tip of her snout showering him with licks that welcomed him home. He drifted amidst the waves of innocent satisfaction at seeding his first female, mesmerized by the warmth shared by their pressed bellies.
It felt almost normal now. Natural. Genuine, to continue to remain inside her until her muscles slackened, their former tightness fading into lazy, satisfied pulses. Her surrounding scent reminded him with every breath of the weight of what happened, yet the inner satisfaction stoked by her words, by her gentle pads fondling his frills banished whatever trace of revulsion any sensible son would have felt.
He didn't feel humiliation nor guilt, but relief, physical and spiritual, nurtured by the impossibility of his choice. The shiver-inducing clink of the magic-subduing voidsteel enforced that sentiment, an ubiquitous reminder that there was no other option; no viable alternative.
He did what he had to in order to free her, and it felt...exhilarating.
***The End***
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