Transitional Period (Continuation From "The Park")
Author's Note & Legal Crap: This storyline contains imagery, situations, and characters that are purely fictional and due to adult themes that may be explored in this or further works regarding this storyline, you should refrain from reading this if you are not of appropriate age in your area of residence.
I'll be adding more to this as time goes by, certainly faster than between this and my previous story section. Steamier stuff to come soon, transition can be an art one might say as the stallion's little one is coerced and changed.
Transitional Period
by Naranth
***
The floor felt cold. She was sure there were bruises where he'd been. Temporary scars that would shift from the mortal plane into emotional reminders of what she'd endured. She gritted her teeth and growled. She'd been a baby, she'd cried and begged him, and she'd been given no reprieve from his onslaught for the performance but harsher thrusts. She felt her muscles tighten even in their injured state while she thought of him and remained perplexed at whether her body was betraying what she knew to be wrong.
First came the neigh that slipped into her ears and buried itself deep inside her, the noise inciting terror, her previous angry bravado forgotten in the presence of such a distinct sound. She knew what that meant. Her eyes remained closed while she gazed down toward the floor to try and will the darkness to take her to that little paradise of nothing she'd held for what she wished forever, but had doubtfully been more than three hours.
She listened to the slow steps of hooved feet across what sounded like soft carpeting. At least, it sounded softer than the cold material that she rested on now. It felt like wood on her bare feet, the cold caressed the base of her tail and rear as she sat motionless. She prayed for the hooved feet to depart. Silence sifted into white noise, her breath slowed, and fear mixed itself with the icy touch below her into a shroud of fear.
***
His face was etched in skepticism and doubt. It'd been far too easy, far too convenient. Surely, he'd slipped up somewhere? Yet, here sat the little dragoness he'd taken. No alerts had been sent, no word circled around the neighborhood. Nothing. He slitted his silver eyes and examined the small child before him, his gaze danced along her figure for a long moment. She looked right, so why hadn't the proverbial alarm bells gone off? Where was the cavalry?
"Good evening little one ," he said in a gentle tone and his skeptic features softened. "Had good nap?"
The tiny dragon's mouth opened to speak but the words firmly sat behind her tongue and wallowed in the fear he'd instilled in her. Good, she was right to fear him now.
"Right, well you look well enough and," he continued then stepped forward from carpet to hard wood," might I say pretty enough as well."
He watched her muscles tense, her eyes close tighter, and her body shift into the best attempt at a protective stance she could muster. Her gasp escaped her throat the same time the shackles clanked against the kitchen wall.
_ Lovely_, he thought, they'll hold her long enough. He raised an eyebrow when a blush hit her then he smiled as the blush shifted into an angry grimace.
He'd stirred things up inside her and she clutched tightly to the only emotion she truly understood, anger.
"Take a deep breath and open your eyes child. You can't keep yourself blind from the truth forever," he said finally. Seconds passed then minutes and he took a step forward away from the kitchen island that creaked slightly at his departure and closer to the sink that her shackles resided near.
He noticed her hesitant gulp then the minor adjustment in posture, still afraid, still unsure, but at least observational. He smiled at those beautiful blue eyes before they hid from the world once more.
***
She wanted to hold her stomach and yell for Mom to get her a glass of water and a kiss to make the pain disappear. She wanted Dad to rush in with a snarl and a swipe of claws, to scoop her up and flee from the darkness that threatened to swallow her up and steal her breath. The first tear fell without hesitation.
"Where am I?" she said slow and soft. She stared at her own eyelids and guessed at where he stood, guessed at where evil towered over her. She knew if she gazed at him a scream would erupt from her throat and she feared far worse than he'd done prior.
Slumber party stories and campfire tales rushed around her mind while her breath came faster. It was getting harder to breath with the constant reminder of her arms' immobility.
"Who are you?" she mumbled, her desire to demand his identity drowned in her terror. She heard him step nearer. She heard the floor creak as he leaned down and the warmth of him was unbearably close. The reality of her restraint was now at the forefront of her mind. He touched her. She screamed.
***
The dark-furred stallion watched the pink dragoness inhale a second before the sound of her displeasure erupted from her maw. The scream was desperate, pained, hurt, needing. He sighed then and caressed her cheek once more. Her scream continued followed by more tears then rough sniffles. He looked her over once more then silently gripped her throat. The scream stopped and her arms scrambled erratically to grip his wrist despite the shackles. He took a step back to avoid her flailing naked legs and thrashing tail.
"Shh, baby dragon, you're in Daddy's house," He whispered to her and patted her head," and you're safe."
More tears fell then the scream slammed into him. The horse furrowed his brow at the little dragon then slapped her in a quick, decisive motion.
"Shush baby dragon," he said in a more harsh tone. Her screaming continued unabated coupled with tears and sniffles. He sighed and shook his head then turned on his hoof.
"I'll return when you've screamed yourself hoarse."
He chuckled at his pun then headed from the kitchen back to the carpet of his living room then to his bedroom.
***
Her throat felt dry, it felt sore, and her voice had departed long ago. She sat with shuddered breath and pained eyes. She'd given up on her strategy of out of sight, out of mind. Instead she focused on the wood patterns that her pained body lay sprawled haphazardly upon.
"I just want to go home," she managed to whisper, more a hope than a true statement.
"You are home," his voice said from the carpeted living room. She stared at the small piece of raised wood that divided the two spaces like a lifeline in a watery sea. So long as the line held, so long as he remained on his side of the deceptively quant nightmare of a house she would be undisturbed.
His weight shifted and she shivered. He moved forward and she resigned herself to what he might do. His next steps were slow and casual which she followed with immense attention. She shook her head at his statement with her vocal chords threatening to burn through her neck if she attempted further syllables.
She shrank back against the kitchen cabinets and felt the chilly caress from them when he kneeled down and moved closer. She attempted a growl that came out as a pitiful squeak. She thrashed her tail and legs as before with as much strength as she could muster to try to deter him, yet he kept on. Less and less of the wooden pattern remained between them and the thought that she was truly helpless shot through her, but this time the scream wouldn't come.
His powerful form soon enveloped her and his arms held her in a strong embrace. He'd easily held down her legs and tail with his size and her exhaustion had helped him with the last of her resistance to his advance. He pulled her against him and she winced at the shackles that yanked at her arms. He chuckled and patted her head. She shivered against him. It hadn't been long since she'd been, she shuddered, more involved with him. The idea that he held her with such a lack of clothing made her notice his body heat all the more. He was so warm, how could such a horrible creature be her only salvation from the definite chill that cut into her.
She whimpered when she realized against her true desire, she'd leaned into that warm body, that seemingly gentle embrace. He rocked her and neighed lightly in her ear. He petted her and stroked her back.
"Daddy's her baby dragon," he whispered," Daddy's here."
She heard his words and couldn't utter an answer or objection to his statement, she simply nodded in hopes that he'd let her go. A hope that fell away from her as exhaustion pushed her into dreamless sleep. His words swirled around her mind as did the feel of his body and she leaned further toward that warmth, toward her captor and her temporary savior from the cold of the room.
***
He listened to her breathing slow and felt her muscles relax against him. He smiled and caressed her.
"Good girl," he said lightly," you're half frozen baby dragon. Let Daddy keep you warm. We can't have my little special little one get cold like every dragon who has, well, special blood."
He stroked his fingers down her back and rocked her against him. He grinned at his bit of research into the heat and body chemistry of dragons. He sighed lightly and rubbed her tail.
"Soon baby dragon, soon you'll be Daddy's beautiful little girl."