Dracon's Story: Chapter 1
This is a commission piece/gift I did for a very darling friend and lover of mine. A start to a fantasy that has haunted him for a long time. Dracon is copyrighted to him, while Malcolm and Adri are copyrighted to me.
This is a commission piece/gift I did for a very darling friend and lover of mine. A start to a fantasy that has haunted him for a long time. Dracon is copyrighted to him, while Malcolm and Adri are copyrighted to me.
Dracon's Story: Chapter 1
Copyright of The Lady Adrianna 2011
A small thin figure sat huddled on the ground. Positioned just out of the way to avoid being stepped on by traffic, it also sat just out enough to be seen and not ignored. Between the drawn up knees, a small hat sat, a few crinkled bills and coins inside it. The figure itself indistinguishable for the most part. The many layers of torn threadbare clothing hiding anything that might have revealed sex, hair or eye color, even what breed it might have been. Its head remained bowed, forehead pressed to those skinny knees. Though a faint thank you could be heard on the rare occasion of someone dropping something into the small hat.
The figure garnered many looks from the populous around it. The kinder looks were anything from curiosity to compassion. But the ones that had the tiny body curled just out of the path were the ones that ranged from disgust to horror. So, the beggar remained in the safe little spot, the tide of foot traffic parting without pause around the little space. Even the compassionate ones who dropped the donations didn't stop to talk or offer the figure more help then the spare change in their pockets. Not that it expected anything else.
When the traffic around it eased, the figure uncurled some, careful to look around carefully before grabbing the not even half full hat. The clever mechanism that kept the hat attached to the slender ankle hidden carefully by the fold of an over-sized shawl. Only after the small amount of money was tucked safely away did the figure stand and straighten fully. Still small, still thin, the almost pretty face was finally revealed. It would probably be definitely pretty with a proper feeding and care. But for now, now the dirt and hard living of being homeless had left the figure emaciated and filthy. The fur snarled and streaked with dirt so badly that one couldn't tell just what color it was anymore. At first glance, which is all the figure ever really garnered, it appeared to be a child or young teenage girl. Small, slender, with no discernible figure or muscle tone.
Slipping silently off the sidewalk into a shadowed alley, the figure didn't notice the tall silvery figure stepping away from a door frame across the street. It also didn't notice that same figure following it down the alley to its home. So, it reached the small nook, shielded from the weather on two sides by the corner of a brick building and wall, and on two others by a lean-to of cardboard boxes. Slipping into the small shelter, a tattered cloth was pulled across behind it, giving the semblance of privacy. The silent follower stopped nearby, waiting, watching.
Rustling sounds of cloth on cloth sounded faintly behind the shield of the beggar's door. At the gap beneath the cloth, the pile of fabrics that could be seen grew as the homeless person stripped, readying to go to the next spot of the day. But, before it could reach for the waiting clothes, just as dirty, but a little more colorful, the curtain was pulled aside. A soft startled gasp of surprise and fear escaped before a paw was wrapped around its muzzle, silencing any other comment. "Quiet and come out slowly. I want both paws out and up where I can see them," came the issued command. Terrified, the beggar obeyed, a pair of hole filled leggings dropped down, falling into a rain puddle.
Dismayed over the further dirtying of something so precious, the beggar's eyes were on the leggings instead of its captor. But finally, the fingers around its muzzle made its eyes travel up to meet the bright green ones of the silver follower. Muffled words spoken behind the closed muzzle. But the green eyes were busy dropping over the now mostly nude form of the prize before them. "A boy. I was hoping so. A small, thin boy, just perfect for my plans," came that voice again, sounding pleased instead of irritated. A blush darkened the dirty fur, paws dropping to cover its...his...slender frame reflexively. The paw uncurled from his muzzle, dropping down to inspect the exposed body carelessly, though not in such a way as to cause him pain. To Malcolm, the silvery fox before him, he was an object to be considered. The bruise on his muzzle from the fox's grip keeping him still. If a casual grip had caused that wound, he was afraid to guess what the tall muscular male could do if he had put his mind to it.
"Do you have friends, family?" the todd asked, head tilting as that paw dropped down into the small grungy shorts the boy wore to cover his bits. The dirty head paused, then shook slowly, shame making the flopped ears droop, tail tucking between his legs. The boy was a canine..a mutt it appeared through the dirt. Not as desired as a pure bred, but less likely to be missed. The fox's muzzle parted in a hungry grin and he squeezed the small sheath, causing the mutt's eyes to widen and a whimper to escape. "Do you have anything worth keeping in this hovel?" came the next question. Another pause, then another shake. The paw busy working to get the canine length free of the small sheath. Finally, fully hard and starting to moan, the mutt leaned into his captors paw. Only to have it disappear. Whimpering once again only earned him a bigger grin. "Get dressed in your cleanest outfit. You'll do perfectly once we get you cleaned up," the fox ordered, pushing the mutt back into the little cavity the mutt had lived in for over a year. Much to his delight, the dog did as told, returning a few moments later in something that didn't look too much like it had been sitting on a trash heap for weeks before being salvaged. Nodding in approval, Malcolm beckoned and turned to leave the alley.
Oh, his mistress would be pleased with him today. She had spotted this little treasure the other day on her way to an appointment. His job had then been to watch the mutt, evaluating and ensuring that no one would miss him, all before apprehending the target. No one ever really missed the homeless. Even if they did have friends. Though it was easier if they didn't. Less questions asked that would cause money to go into the hands of police instead of their pockets. And, given how the dog followed him, head down, tail tucked, but without question proved that his mistress was once again right on target with her hunches. The new find would fit in nicely with only a minimal amount of training.
Pulling a phone from his pocket, he sent a text, mostly by feel alone. By the time they reached the street, a car was pulling up. A nondescript blue car, four door and simple. Just like most other cars that drove up and down the road every day. Malcolm pushed the pup in front of him then, making the whimpering beggar get into the backseat before he slid in next to him. "Good find?" asked the driver, another fox, though this one with traditional orange coloring. At the silver one's nod, he grinned and started to drive. Not asking any other questions as the two vulpines just waited. Surprisingly, they didn't have to wait too long. Within two blocks, the first question came.
"Wh..what are you doing?" asked the dog
"What do you think?" asked the silver male.
"Kidnapping me."
"Smart as well as cute. Seems I found an even better find than I'd thought."
"What will you do to me?" The mutt trembling now as a myriad of possibilities slid through his mind.
"That's up to mistress." The silver todd winked down at him, causing the pup to shrink back against the door. He didn't bother to ask anything else, getting the idea that he wouldn't get much out of his captors. So instead, he tried to focus on the situation. Despite the still hard length pressing uncomfortably against his pants. Why had the fox done that? No one had ever touched him like that in all of his sixteen years. He hadn't even touched himself like that. So the pleasure it had given him had erased all of his walls and turned him into a docile little toy to be kidnapped without a fight. Though he couldn't for the life of him wonder why anyone would want him. He wasn't a girl, so it wasn't for a sex ring. He wasn't rich, so it wasn't for a ransom. Maybe for a slave business? The fox had said mistress. Old Maggie had warned him of such things when he was a pup. Before she had died that is. Leaving him all alone on the streets. Tears filled his eyes at the thought of his mentor. How badly he had failed her.
Malcolm watched the boy think. Then, saw the tears he expected fill the puppy's eyes, but not spilling over. He hadn't expected that. Most of them railed, screamed, or cried. This one did none of it. He just sat there, huddled against the door, waiting for a fate he didn't know to come crashing down on him. This was odd for his captor, putting the vulpine on edge. Finally, he shook his silvery head before looking out the window, ears perked to make sure he wasn't surprised from behind. But, the canine remained curled against the corner. Not even budging as the scenery outside went from shops to middle class, to something slightly different.
Though the puppy's eyes did widen as he realized the foot traffic here was...not exactly foot traffic. Various forms stood on the sidewalk, all dressed in skimpy outfits, posing provocatively. Curling in more upon himself, he shook his head. Surely not. He was a boy! But, among the various female forms on the streets were ones that were distinctly male. There were also some that he wasn't sure about. With growing dread, he started to realize his fate. And upon looking at the orange fox's knowing eyes in the rear view mirror, they knew he knew. Now, he started to panic some. Frantically thinking of a way he could escape these two muscular foxes. But, being small, underfed and malnourished, he lacked the strength or speed to. He wasn't where he knew the terrain. And he was fairly certain that the hookers on the streets wouldn't help him. Casting the silver fox next to him a thoughtful look, he came to a decision.
He would play along with them. Surely it would lead to more regular meals and baths then he had ever had. And as soon as his strength improved, he'd escape. Go find another little hollow to live in. Another set of streets to try and make the few bucks he needed to survive. And make certain he never followed any man who seemed interested in his bits again. With those thoughts in mind, he forced the panic to the background of his mind and remained just how he was before, waiting. Though he didn't have to wait long. Soon, they were pulling into the driveway of a large townhouse, nicer then most he had ever seen. Both vulpines got out, the silver one grabbing his wrist and tugging him to follow. Obediently, he did, though he made it seem as though he was stupid. Standing there on the sidewalk, head down and tail tucked between his legs, he let them discuss how to take him inside.
"She'll want to see him before we waste time and effort cleaning him up. Can't even tell what his natural color is through that filth," the driver said, lifting a lock of colorless hair and tugging on it before dropping it and wiping his paws on his jeans. The look of disgust caught by the kidnapped pup. But he made no reaction to it, listening instead for the silver ones opinion.
"No. Clean him up, trim his hair some..trim, not cut..and then present him. She wants him. Trust me," Malcolm said simply. Then, as if deciding to take matters into his own paws, he tugged the still nameless boy after him, heading into the house and up a set of stairs just inside the door. The house was quiet, but, it didn't quite have that empty feeling. People were home, just not making noise. Except for them that is.
The vulpine led the mutt into a bathroom near the top of the stairs. Bigger then most expected from a bathroom, it made the boys feet drag some as he just gawked. His captor didn't seem to mind, grabbing a pair of scissors from a drawer and cutting the rags from his body. Then, turning the water on to heat, he looked the pup over. "Whats your name?" he asked, eyes sliding over the slender tiny frame with an odd look in his green eyes. At the mutt's confused pause, he smirked "No name then?" he asked, answered with a small shameful shake of the head. "Come here and kneel on the floor. Put your paws on your thighs and don't move them at all" he ordered, waiting and watching as his prey did as told. If anyone else tried what he was about to do, their mistress would beat them within an inch of their life. But, Malcolm was allowed to try the merchandise before even she did. It was part of the perk of his position.
So try he did, pushing the dirty muzzle down to his crotch, getting his nice clothes filthy. "If you bite me, you're going to wish you had never been born," he warned, fingers capturing the tender ears and twisting, a slight bit of pain to warn. The mutt winced, then nodded, though his confusion was evident in his features. Chuckling softly, the todd just unzipped his pants with one paw, freeing his already mostly hard length, the musky scent of him nearly overpowering to the mutt's tender sensitive nose. Not that the boy would have much chance to get fresh air as he was pulled once more to the vulpine's hips, cold nose forced against the sheath hiding the knot from view. "Lick," was the only order.
Don't fight, don't fight, don't fight was the mantra in the boy's head as his tongue flicked up and over the sheath, tasting that musk directly, almost gagging on it. The todd's paws never releasing the grip on his ears, forcing him to stay there. So he licked again...then again. All around the plump sheath, moving where directed. Eventually, as Malcolm grew harder and longer, the mutt got used to the taste. A part of him even semi enjoyed it, much to his dismay. Finally, his head was tugged up to the tapered tip of the cock. Forced into his muzzle, whether he willed it or not. It muffled the sound of his faint protest as it slid back and forth in his muzzle. Forcing him to taste the pre dripping on his tongue. The moans of pleasure above his head causing a blush to fill his cheeks. The grip on his ears lessened and soon he was moving on his own, those paws moving to brush over his filthy hair. His blush deepened as he realized he was doing it by himself now. And despite how much he told himself it was because he didn't have a choice anyway, that didn't change the fact that his own little length was slipping free of its sheath more and more.
The silver fox looked down at him, letting the boy figure it out on his own. The rough tongue was already curling and stroking. And every time that he drew a breath, he sucked hard on the invading length. Malcolm's knot was still hidden in his sheath, kept there on purpose to avoid being trapped out of it after he filled the boys stomach. The todd didn't try to hold out, hips starting to lift up to hump the small muzzle. The tip of his length forcing its way into the tight throat, causing the mutt to choke and gag around it. The rippling sensations only adding to his tormentors pleasure.
Dirt streaked ears fell back in shame and humiliation, tears leaving streaks of clean fur behind as the boy cried silently around the length in his maw. Amused emerald eyes watched this, enjoying the degradation of the boy. But, before long, the pleasure around his length got to be too much and he gripped those ears again, once more twisting them painfully. With a hoarse shout, he started to cum, filling the mutt's muzzle and stomach. "Swallow," he orders, when the boy made the motion to pull back, surprise filling the adorable features. A grimace crossed over the dirty face, but the throat rippled and the cum was swallowed.
Malcolm was mildly surprised though that after the first wave of salty seed covered his tongue, the boy actually started to suckle harder, tongue sliding up along the underside of the length to coax every drop out. It was as if the boy wanted his cum. But, if the smell of the musk in the air was any indication, the boy was enjoying himself despite the tears and seeming reluctance. So, Malcolm let him suckle for a moment or two longer, cleaning every drop from him. Then, pushing him away, he stood and picked the boy up with ease and dumped him in the tub. "Don't touch it," he ordered, seeing a grimy paw moving towards the small throbbing length between the mutt's legs. The paw faltered, moved closer, then finally dropped back to the thigh it had previously rested on. "Good boy," Malcolm praised, chuckling.
Blushing brightly at the pleasure those two words garnered, the mutt tried to associate it with the fact that there was warm...so warm...water swirling around his legs. Though a small voice in his head was whispering that it really wasn't. That it was the lingering taste of cum on his tongue, the praise ringing in his ears, and the sore feeling of his abused throat. He ignored that voice, waiting as the vulpine arranged to bathe him. Malcolm made quick work of his preparations, then grabbed the removable shower head, turning it on with a flick of his finger. Hot water cascaded over the bent head, dirty water swirling around in the bottom of the tub. Using just the water for now, he worked to get every bit of loose dirt from the boy, watching as his catch moaned and squirmed under the spray, clearly enjoying a luxury most took for granted. Finally, he set the shower head aside and grabbed the fur shampoo, soaping up the long uncut hair first, then working his way down the slender frame. His fingers caressed and stroked under the cover of washing, causing the small length to stay hard, clear drops of pre beading at the tip to mix with the soap and water.
He saved the boys hips for last, paw stroking over the small sheath slowly, sensually. Deliberately bombarding the boy with pleasure. His fingers slid up the thin shaft next, coating it with soap, pushing the boy closer to an orgasm. His paw then dropped to the small sac hanging beneath, drawn tightly up to the sudsy body. Kneading and tugging on it, his other paw came into play, soaping up the bubble butt almost hidden by the semi tucked tail. Then, one finger pressing under that same tail, teasing the tiny pucker hidden there. A gasp met his ears and Malcolm grinned. Not pushing in, he just stroked around it, paw leaving the bits to concentrate on that area alone. There would be times the boy would only feel a touch there, so he made sure to associate the need to cum with the feel of someone playing with his tailhole.
More pre mixed with the soap, the scent of aroused canine growing stronger. Confusion and disgust were easily discernible as well, but the arousal was prevalent. The whimper of loss was easily heard as the fingers left his body, making him tremble with the feeling of loss. He hadn't known what was happening, but he had been building up to something, he just didn't know what. And now, he was left, achingly so, on the edge of that something. Whining low in his throat, he closed his eyes, allowing the water to cascade over him once more as he was rinsed off. Finally, his fur color was able to be seen. A rich purple color with lighter stripes crisscrossing his body. His hair and tail were a darker shade of violet, hanging wetly down to his waist. The todd's sharp intake of breath had his eyes opening once more. The soft pinkish color darkened with arousal.
Malcolm stared at the find sitting wet and needy in his bathtub. A beautiful mixture of purple that drew the eye. And it was natural, which would save tons on dye. Grinning, he soaped up the trembling body again, this time with a professional paw. He was suddenly eager to get this boy in front of his mistress. She would be as pleased as he was with the mutt. "Stand up. There is a fur dryer in the corner, go stand on the circle and relax," he ordered, helping the trembling form to stand. The small length bobbing with each breath the mutt took. Still obedient, the boy moved to stand where he was told. Malcolm turned the expensive piece of machinery on, drying the boy in a matter of minutes. Even the long hair was left only slightly damp as opposed to dripping wet. Then, grabbing the scissors from before and a comb, he proceeded to straighten and then trim the mutt's hair. Giving it more shape and making it more presentable. A rough quick brushing smoothed the deep purple fur down into the proper place, leaving the trembling boy looking very lovely indeed.
"Lets go. Follow right behind me and do not touch a thing," Malcolm ordered, garnering a nod from the still silent mutt. Leading him from the room, he headed upstairs another flight and down to a set of double doors at the very end of the hall. Knocking on it, he waited. The expected "Enter" came quickly enough and he opened the door, reaching back to push the boy ahead of him. "Kneel at her feet and don't look up until she gives you permission," he hissed, pushing the boy to the spot he was expected to be in. Then his own eyes lifted momentarily to the amused golden gaze that watched. A grin curved his muzzle before he bowed low in respect. "Mistress, your wish has been fulfilled," he said, voice turning velvety.
"Thank you Malcolm. You never fail me, do you," the tigress purred, a paw lifting to brush the brilliant red hair from her face. Then, the golden gaze dropped to the bowed form kneeling at her feet. A silver striped tail flicked back and forth and she purred louder. "He's even lovelier then I thought he'd be. You'll get a nice bonus in your paycheck next time," she assured, then used a foot to lift the mutt's trembling head. The pink eyes met her gold ones and the lovely fur darkened with a blush. The controlled gaze dropping to take in the sight of the almost comically small length exposed even after the humiliation he had been put through. "Not a stud, that's for sure. He shall end up playing the female role more often then not. Which is about what I expected. But, one never knows," she mused aloud, as her foot dropped to stroke along the small length. Eliciting a groan and a jerk forward of the slender hips. "Broken in yet?" she asks, her attention returning to the white todd.
Malcolm shook his head. "Just his muzzle, which I enjoyed before his bath. Naive in the ways of sex and love, so he's a clean template for you Mistress. He doesn't even have a name," he added, more as an afterthought. A warm chuckle is his answer and the foot slid down the bare striped chest, ruffling the fur with the toe claws. Malcolm smiled, eyes watching as he shifted his weight slightly.
"A name then, hmm? Let's see, since he could make a very pretty girl, I think a girly name," the tigress mused, shifting on her seat as she teased her foot up and down the mutt's stomach and chest. "Marie? No. Too common. With that coloring, we want something memorable," she murmured, talking more to herself then the two males in front of her. Then, a grin curved her pierced muzzle and she straightened. Standing from her seat, she lowered herself down so her muzzle was almost level with the mutt's. "Dracon," she purred, voice silky soft, promising so much.
The boy's ears flattened and his eyes lifted to meet her golden gaze once more. Actually allowing himself to see her, knowing there was no going back now. The figure that knelt in front of him was breathtakingly beautiful. Shifting slightly, his little length twitched and pulse at the sight of her, the ivory and silver fur seeming to glow from within. The long tumbling curls that cascaded around her shoulders catching the light and seeming like silken fire, highlighting her golden gaze. The small delicate looking piercings adorning both sides of her muzzle only emphasized the power yet feminine delicacy of her face, giving her a conflicting wild dangerous beauty. Red and black tipped ears perked forward to catch his response and he realized belatedly that she was waiting on him. "Y-y-yes?" he whispers, head tilting a tiny bit.
"Do you like the name Dracon?" she asked, her paw dropping to stroke a finger along his length, making it twitch again, moisture beading at the tip. A low moan, then slow nod met her question and she purred deeply. The sound sending little shock waves of pleasurable reaction through his body. The knowledge that his answer had pleased her giving him more joy then he could fathom, or remember ever experiencing. Even more joy then the knowing finger on his shaft gave him. He found himself wanting to do anything to please her, to make the smile that curved her muzzle now return. To hear that purr so intimately close to him and know he was the cause. If that meant being her whore, then, he would be. And as soon as that thought crossed his mind, he knew it to be true, despite his earlier plans on getting free eventually.
The tigress leaned back, then straightened. Settling back into her seat, she grinned at the fox who still watched nearby. "Does he know why he's here?" she asked, head tilting. Her crimson hair tumbling to one shoulder. One paw idly twisted the long strands, coiling it into a rope against one breast. Malcolm stepped closer, settling on a low chair by her side and taking her free paw.
Brushing his muzzle across the back of her paw in a kiss, he answered, "I haven't told him Mistress. He has been told little more then what to do since I found him." He then paused and looked up at her. "Shall I?" At her nod, he turned the green gaze to the obviously confused boy, now Dracon, before them. "You are here, now the property and responsibility of the lovely Adrianna, Madame of this house. You will obey her instantly, without question, on all matters. You will be trained and then set out to earn your Mistress the money she requires for your daily upkeep. A small portion of your fee will be set aside for you to use, either on some immediate trivial, or to save up to eventually buy yourself free. Your clothing will be chosen for you, provided and replaced when necessary. You will wear nothing else but that outfit when clothing is required. You will maintain a state of cleanliness at all times. There is no excuse for you to be slovenly. You are a reflection on your Mistress, do not shame her.
"You will become a streetwalker. Men and women will pay for your services and you will provide them, once again without question. All those who buy you will know the rules regarding treatment of you and your sister slaves. If any of these rules are broken, you will report it immediately to either myself, or your Mistress. We will deal the retribution necessary, not you. Your place is right there, on your knees, working to please your Mistress however you can. In her presence, you are to kneel and submit completely. Any signs of defiance will have you punished." Malcolm paused for breath then, watching Dracon's face expectantly. The boy just nodded, not seeming upset or surprised. Smarter then he appeared it seemed.
"Wh..what wi..will I be expected to d..do?" the boy..Dracon he reminded himself...asked. Flushing at his own stammering. His erection had flagged only slightly through the professional description of his new life. A part of him excited at the prospect of not having to worry about his life anymore. To have the decision taken from him finally. "I m...m..mean most of..often," he amends, blushing even brighter.
A soft throaty chuckle met his ears and his gaze lifted back up to his new, what was she called? Oh, right, Mistress. An amused smile curved her muzzle and she beckoned him closer. Moving awkwardly, he stood and moved to where she directed him between the silver striped legs. The robe she wore shifted as her legs parted to allow Dracon entry between them. Only then did his shocked eyes find that she wasn't quite as female as she had at first appeared. A thick sheath was nestled above the female folds, an inch or two of pink showing from the top. Squirming slightly, he whimpered, coaxing another chuckle from her.
A white paw gripped his wrist, tugging his small paw to the plumping sheath. Fingers curled around his, guiding him in just the right way to grip her and stroke. Each pump down coaxed more and more of the length free. Despite the growing evidence of her arousal, her breathing didn't change, nor did her expression. The few times he was able to look up at her face, she had the same amused smile on her lips, eyes half closed as she watched his face. Completely in control of herself. Even as some sort of clear liquid started to seep from the tip of her to coat his paw.
Slowly, she grew until she was fully exposed. Longer and thicker then the vulpine who had used his muzzle, he found himself staring at her. Feeling shame at the realization that he was inordinately tiny in comparison. Also, besides the shame, was the tingling in his lower belly and his maw watered. Wondering if she tasted the same as Malcolm had. But he wouldn't get the opportunity to find out yet. Instead, the still watching todd moved up behind him, lube slicked fingers sliding against the tiny tailhole that was exposed by the lifted wagging tail.
Dracon jumped, eyes widening as he looked over his shoulder at the vulpine. One finger pushed, pressing past the tight clenched ring with only minimal effort. A slick full feeling overwhelmed Dracon, his muscles squeezing around the finger, trying to expel it. Which only led to him feeling more full. And because of the lube, it didn't hurt. There was discomfort, but that was quickly fading as he adjusted to the invader. Unable to bring himself to complain, he felt his head turned back to the length in his paw. "Don't ever take your eyes off your target. Unless they tell you, your eyes are to remain on the cock in your paws or mouth. Is that clear," came the sultry voice from above. He nodded and started to stroke again, fingers squeezing a little harder.
Malcolm waited for the boy to continue before he started to move his finger again. Following the timing of the small paw's movements, his finger slide deep, then pulled back. Slowly, the tight ring loosened around his finger. Only then did he push a second one against it, pushing it inside. And to his and his mistress's delight, the boy didn't even pause as he was stretched once more. Malcolm's other paw was wrapped around his own length, reawakened by the sight of that cute butt almost sucking his fingers deep on its own. The three were mostly silent, the sensations being soaked up by them all. The only sound was the squelching of the todd's fingers in Dracon's tailhole and the soft little whimpering moans the pup gave off from time to time. Soon enough, the slender hips were pushing back slightly to meet each upward thrust of the slick fingers inside him, wanting to feel them deeper, harder. Only as soon as he had found a rhythm that semi satisfied that urge, the fingers were gone. Whining softly, his head lifted and he looked up at the amused golden gaze still watching him. "P..please..d..d..don't stop," he whined, his lower half doing a little dance of need.
"Don't worry little Dracon, I don't plan to. We're just going to replace it with something a little more fulfilling," she purred down at him, stroking over the side of his face. Then, bending down, she picked him up effortlessly, pulling his small frame over her lap. The shaft he had been so busy pleasuring was now nestled between his rear cheeks, the tip leaking pre over his already slick tailhole. "Sit back" she orders, helping to angle him to the right position. The trusting puppy instantly did as told. Nothing had hurt yet after all. The widening of the pink eyes and the soft gasp that accompanied the feeling of the tip of her length pushing into him had her groaning silently. As did the oh so hot tightness that was starting to envelope her. She knew he was surely experiencing some discomfort, but his expression was one of curious pleasure. He had been worked up so much and denied so long, the feel of something that had been pleasurable before was enough to get him to want to work through the slight pain of being stretched so wide. So when her paws pushed down slightly on his hips, he willingly moved to take more of her, little face scrunching up slightly.
His breathing caught, a little whimper of true pain escaping him and her paws held him still, allowing him to adjust to the feel of the two inches he had taken thus far. One of her slender paws moving to wrap around the small length, coaxing it back to full life again. Moving with expert skill and care, she intertwined the pleasure and pain in his innocent mind, knowing that some would want him to enjoy the pain of being full with little preparation. And they always paid more for one who was convincing in that enjoyment. So, before he was truly ready, she pushed up again, a low moan pushed from her into one of his laid back ears. Still stroking his erection, even as she deflowered his tight little tailhole. The boy, innocent, trusting, didn't fight. Just letting her abuse his small frame without more then a small noise of discomfort now and then.
Eventually, she felt him loosen and stop fighting her. Chuckling a little, she angled herself, the tip of her teasing his prostate as she pushed deeper yet again. Grinning at the sharp gasp then moan as the pleasure shot through him. The slender hips shifted, wriggled, then pushed down again, wanting that pleasure. This time, she let him control the pace, knowing it wouldn't be quite the same without her controlling. And she was right. Within moments, he was whining needfully, eyes meeting hers as he squirmed on her lap. Please, he mouthed, unable to form the words to beg. That was the sign she had been waiting for.
Gripping his hips firmly, leaving his little length alone, she lifted him up, then thrust him back down hard, not stopping until she was buried to the hilt inside him. Pushing firmly against his prostate the entire time. His eyes widened then closed tightly and small paws held onto her forearms. A drop of pre fell on her silk covered stomach, staining the fabric. Giving him but a moment to enjoy the feeling of being full, of her sheath against his stretched ring. Then she was moving, taking him slow, but firmly. Driving deep into him again and again, hitting that bump that would keep him squirming each time she thrust. His tailhole gripped her from time to time, but no longer the borderline painful grip she had first experienced. No longer virginal, he was now being introduced to the world of sex. Her world.
Dracon's eyes went half lidded, unable to stop watching her as she used his small body. The pain still there, but not to the point that it was stopping the pleasure. He hadn't felt this good in all of his life. And if it meant pain to get this full feeling, the slick thrusting in and out of him, he was willing to accept it. Eventually, his hips started to wriggle and squirm on each down stroke, teasing himself, and her with the motions. The answering grin he received for his efforts sent another rush of pleasure through him. He was pleasing her. He was making her happy. Just knowing that had him almost close to that unattainable, until now, peak. His small body tightened and tensed, small passage clenching around her as he whined. The ignored length between his legs jerking. Understanding in her eyes, her grin widened and her thrusts changed.
Now she moved with intent, no longer just enjoying the feel of him. She had a goal now and she was determined to reach it. Her hips moved powerfully into his, the hard shaft invading him seeming to grow larger, the feel of her barbs dragging along his walls with ever increasing pleasure/pain. The peak getting closer as his prostate was abused sweetly. Then, the tingling building sensation finally exploded. With a low shout, he was jerking in her grip, the small length coating her chest and stomach with white cum, tailhole milking her length hungrily. She held off, through force of will alone, and watched him cum, his first climax of his young life.
Waiting only until he had started to come down from his pleasure high before her hips thrust up hard once, twice, four times, the barbs flaring out fully, digging into his walls and holding her in place. A low moan fell from her lips as she started to cum, the thick hot cum filling his tiny body, warming him from the inside out. The sensation of each pulse traveling along her length, twitching inside him had his own orgasm prolonging, making him whimper and collapse against her now messy front. Her arms closed around him as she finished filling him, branding him as hers. Behind them, the forgotten Malcolm groaned softly as he came himself, into his own paw. A satisfied smile meeting his own smug one. The boy would do nicely, just like they had both thought.