Never Trust Your Weapon When Dwagons Are Around - p.1 and 2
A follow-up to That Vicious Dwagon!
Dear, grand time - oh yes, such an amount of it had passed since the prominent dwagon had last known peace. When the whole kingdom was awoken to the tempestuous voice of the King, stating that the key to his dearest Princess's belt of chastity had been stolen - by that draconic menace, of course! - heroes had fought and lost, armies had sieged his house and been destroyed, even all peasants of the kingdom had gathered and, obviously, had swum out of his cave even faster than they had reached it at all!
Ambiguously, the continent-famous cavern had been a very valuable target for all the treasure-seekers and dragon-slayers from throughout the world, even though the King had paid several huge chests of gold to bring the magicians who were able to dispel the powerful magic cast upon his daughter's belt and the smiths who were able to remove it from her hips without causing any harm to her exquisite, snow-white skin! Giant hoard of valuables was said to reside within that dwagon-infested hollowing in a mountain, making the directly surrounding lands to attract people definitely way too adventurous, brave, courageous, dauntless, enduring, fearless and greedy for their own good!
Oh, not once had it been when a hero, wearing leathers granting him freedom of movement or steel to protect him from deadly, mortal wounds, with various weaponry by their side: swords, maces, bows, staffs, slings or venomous potions, had decided to wander alone or in groups into these mountains! Not once, indeed, since no matter what they did, no matter what tactics they tried to utilize nor how big was the number of them, one only was the outcome of every single encounter like that.
Stripped, humped, and dwagonstuff-filled, every single of them had become.
Not like it had anyhow changed the attitude of the multiplicity of heroes, believing naught that the ones, tens, hundreds before them had all fallen and failed to do their task - stupidity and will to show their bravery, as well as rapacity for the shininess of draconic hoard hidden within a cavern within a tall ground formation within a kingdom of the King! Emperor, recalling erstwhile events, exhibiting extreme exhaustion, effortlessly and effetely essaying to erase the endemic, enormous, enduring scourge of dwagons in his land!
Verily had the people been leaving the regions, fearing further unfeasible tries of bringing the draconic creature down, and leaving the lands within the kingdom; all to the fun and amusement of the dwagon, who started to become rather joyful over time as more and more of wagons had started to be driven around the mountains, often being guarded only by the owners of whatever was driven on them! Even though these were the most often sight for the dwagon, Snuggy preferred the ones that were guarded by people with shiny armor on them. Relentlessly, he menaced and fought these people guarding valuables - they always were a sign that the person hiring them was rich enough to do so - and therefore, this dwagon had to transport lots of shiny goods belonging to that wealthy person!
Regardless of that, though: this is not going to be a tale about a dwagon, but about one of the attempters of conquering the mighty dracon's cavern and (gasp!) capturing him! Even though her family, friends, strangers, even foes told Luvon not to go on that perilous journey, she just neglected them all - with obstinacy proper for a true squirrel - with only a thick chainmail skirt and green glass goggles covering her eyes - with only a sword by her side to defend herself with - with only a great plan of how this dragon ought to be tamed - went onto her journey to the far-high mountains!
Fair age of about twenty and youth blooming from her orange fur were more than obvious when she climbed the rocky cliffs, travelled long-forgotten roads and got lost a few times: indeed, a young soul was she, not yet knowing about the world's true offerings and dangers. Unless the elders didn't know, they would say: immature, idealistic and impertinent, with inconspicuous intentions, illegitimate, imaginary imitations of immense inspiration immixments and impossible ideas; idolizing indignity and ignoring inconveniences, like all of their kind and age did at one point of time.
Shortly, she did arrive at the entrance to the cavern, intimidating for one: spike-like rocks were making it seem as if she was about to step into a lion's gaping mouth, never going to come back, but not like Luvon took it into consideration at all! Early days of her life showed off - she was still willing to risk everything for the glory of the title of a dwagonslayer; still youthful and experienceless, she shut the mouth of that little voice deep within her head that was telling her to think of it yet again, and walked straight into the cavern of the almighty Snuggy - The Wild Abuser; The Thievish Hoarder, Accumulator, Treasurer; The Relentless and Ignorant Critter; Key-Looting, Energetic Sexer!
After all, there was nothing to loathe within that cavern: stone, stone, stone. Great part of what that heroine squirrel saw was merely rock and darkness; one was impenetrable yet not dangerous, and the second was only a hideout for whatever may have been seen inside. Overcarefully yet quickly, the woman stepped in deeper, her weapon almost throbbing and pulsing within her grasp, moisturised and heated by her hand's sweat and only lacking that certain tint of red all over itself and a tiny change to its shape to resemble one certain masculine bodypart a bit more.
Oh, but that was not that sword's handle was meant to do! Dirty, filthy thoughts filled Luvon's mind, almost completely distracting her from what she wanted to think of; squirrel's squirmy squeeze almost squelched the squabby handle of her sword; squalor and squillions of squalid concepts literally squirted from her mind; if one actually took a squiz at the squelchy, squeezable area betwixt her legs squirting them out in liquid form, they'd surely see such a squashed, bothered area, wet, horny, and affected by the horny thoughts the most - luckily there was that leather thong bearing a silver surprise that kept the moisture and scent at fairly decent (for local standards, of course) levels.
Bravery had to fight for dominance with arousal when this musteline squeezed the naughty spot between her legs with one hand, the other clearly holding a handle with an unnecessary blade - unnecessary at least for the naughty use Luvon thought of at this very moment! Ultimately - and luckily for her - the hand that was already beneath the thong's surface and deep in between the pink layers of fleshified love managed to jump away from her crotch, and as messy as it was, it held the cawk-shaped handle steadily, lubing it up just a tiny bit. Time was nigh, she thought, nigh for neutering the naughty, nowise noble dwagon!
Therefore, the tantrum-throwing, thrilled torpedogirl thrived through the tartaric topography, though that trickling twat terribly throbbed and tickled, theatrically thieving toughness - therefore turning the temptress tragically turned-on! Frankly, she wished someone else was in her pants at that moment - the information heard about the creature and creations of her imaginations had all cumulated into one thought: thought of being an easy, visible (or rather: smellable) from afar target for such a dwagon if it wanted to pounce her! In such fear, even emerald goggles on top of her nose were trembling, shaking, shivering, just as her whole body! Luck, come to me, she screamed in her mind! Luck, shall you not abandon me in this time of trial!...
If she expected what she was about to see, she wouldn't have gone so terribly dramatic; nonetheless, the fact that something gleamed far, far away, gleamed gold, gleamed red and gray, couldn't really pass her eyes, mind, soul, memories, logical thinking - there was the dwagon's hoard and there was that dwagon to be found. Neatly improve, the grasp on her sword did, and the squirrel, dressed scantily and marked with horniness, walked on, with eyes sensitive to all kinds of changes of hue or brightness that she even turned around a few times to false alarms, but that additional though fake feeling of security was what she greatly preferred to being pounced by a humpy draconic creature - a creature she had been nearing yet of which's presence she had no information or even guesses... until she spotted gold shining not too far away. Great treasure was stored there, the dracon's hoard rested there...
...and then she heard it.
The squirrel woman's mind was eviscerated of little amount of courage and will to fight she still had the moment she heard that sound - not all that loud and scary after all, but amplified tenfold by her fear and another few times by the echoes travelling all around the cave's walls and making her hear it almost from every single direction. Having almost shrunk in her form, letting out all the spare energy from that unusual biological process in form of shivers and quickened suspiration; ears flattened in will not to hear such a weird mixture of roaring, panting and snoring again...
Obviously, it came to them again, rendering the woman even further scared, yet she did manage. Unusual spirit of courageousness landed on her shoulders, and as perverted as such spirits usually are, quickly made her hand jump onto her barely controllable kernel of arousal. Gnashed and squeezed, the netherfolds of the orange-furred being, let her stand up properly yet again, brought away from the indocile horniness the situation was still inflicting on her. Honestly, an old tale of this dwagon had been brought onto her mind again, and regardless of whether it was true or not, she imagined herself being an unwanted guest in the cave of a deity: a deity this... this undefeatable draconic monster was!
Terrified and wary, the squirreless turned out to be towards the bravery suddenly sent upon her once more; quietly, the heroine, dressed just in a pair of emerald, eye-covering goggles in front of her eyes and a bulging silver chainmail skirt on her hips, stepped forwards, still squeezing the sweaty swordhandle betwixt side-by-side-located hands; sex still squirted its slimy, slick sludge, sending it down her soaked skirt's sides and front through the slicky, substantial shroud shacked at her shockingly sexual spot. Horrible, she pondered in pauses betwixt her heart's powerful throbs, all of this was horrible and unreal... Ever so obviously, she should naught have sneaked into this dwagon's cave, just so she could have escaped all this terrifying, overwhelming sensations!
Yet, she sound she feared to hear yet again, the sound from a while ago, did not appear yet again. A strange thing, this was; the squirrel's ears, seemingly overcome with curiosity enough to fight off the fear pinning them down, actually raised a tiny bit to show that! Lowering her guard just a bit to be able to move forward possibly a bit faster, exposing herself further to a possible attack from the dark yet at the same time giving the draconic creature no chance to attack such an immobile inamorata indicted of inessentially indicating her innate installment inside this insufficiently illuminated, inscrutable interior indenture. While it was not of any real problem for the dwagon to just pounce her from its possible hideout anyways, the squirrel-femme preferred to think so; just for the sanity of her mind and cleanliness of thoughts when (or, gods be grateful, if!) it came to combat - direct combat with this irritating, intercourse-forcing individual!
A cavern wall was a good hideout when it came to defending a possible all-side assault - well, it covered at least one possible direction of attack, the one she would rather have her rump turned towards. Yonder had the dragon's hoard been until the mammalian, make-up-wearing maybe-momma decided to achieve her goal by sneaking, instead of ramming in as loudly and furiously as a herd of buffaloes led by a wild Indian on a black, smooth, thick and vein-covered horse... Slap! S'was necessary to throw the dirtiness out of the woman's mind for the time being and make space for concentration and bravery; oh, bravery she needed so much! Will to fight, too, should have been over there, especially as her cutlass's moist, hot handle throbbed dangerously in her hand along with her heart's fast yet regular pumps. Ah, who would have believed that its temperature was only so high due to her hand's squeeze, moisture was composed entirely of a thin, salty liquid of rather peculiar and specific smell (called sweat), and throbbing was there purely because of stress and not because of the wetness between she tried to suppress and push it back where it came from!
Precisely then the strange, roar-like sound that had previously given the woman creeps echoed around the cavern again - yet this time it was... weaker and not as scary? Would it be because that sound was not as distorted by the cavern's walls and echoes of it reflecting from them, or the squirrel had indeed become more willing to fight, much more brave and such, over so little time? Honesty half-helped here; the female did not know why the threat of that draconic creature shrunk along with the number of shivers that sound was sending along her back over time! End of the cavern was near, though, and the heroine would have to face that scaly scary spawn sooner or later, now that she was that deep inside that earthly orifice!
Naturally, emotions should always be followed by actions, and so that slap-up squirrel, starring solely in slim seethrough silverchainmail squeezy and sexually slick slut-skirt, squinted, stepping side to side; she slithered 'side the surrounding stones, shakily suspiring and shielding her squirrel-shape solitarily by her sweat-covered, shiny sword; emotion was taking the first place the moment the woman peeked from behind the rock at the surroundings of the hoard of the dragon, the feet of the squirrel feeling the warmth of the juice dripping from her folds due to the reason known only to the deity far, far above! (no, I didn't want to put more "the" words in the sentence before)
Emotion, though, coming back to the story! Vile, vincible, vastly vanquishable: these were her thoughts the moment she turned her head to take a little glare from behind that rock; the hoard must have been not further than fifty, forty metres away! End was near, she also thought; what she expected to see was something insanely big, red and yellow, undefeatable and grossly grown-up and giant!... Rather than staying here, she should have been already running away with a scream on her face, sword, skirt, hell, even that addition below the skirt left on the ground as an addition to that deity-like draconic being whose lair was here, in the cavern, with her being just a tiny worm pestering its rest and possibly angering it even more!...
All she saw was a big pile of valuable stuff.
Put off, her unconsciousness was by that sight; the situation could be imagined by it having frozen with a finger pointed up, eyes widely open and jaws spread as in to speak something, wise-guy fashion. Ultimately, she was not prepared for lack of danger, even more than she was for it actually being there! Scarely, it must have meant that the true peril was hidden somewhere else, in a place yet oblivious to her, meaning that an assault on such a place would fail at a one hundred percent chance. She quietly let out a few curse words from her lips... Yes, she was so deep within that cave, she had fought herself and her arousal-burning cunt for all that time, but the question was: what for, if that heroically silly woman had underestimated that dragon?
Interestingly, these dirty curse words from squirreless's mouth have travelled a long way without being distorted, and reached that pile of gold, metal and everything too expensive for an average guy to buy. Something moved on there due to the acoustic pressure on tympanums they created... and then she saw it, saw it lying right on top of that pile.
A dwagon. Very well masked one, to add: its red, metallic scales were looking almost like a few pieces of armor scattered on top of the pile, with the yellow on its belly looking almost like very, very goldish coins! After so long, there that creature was... just, totally not like she the heroine hackee-ho's hindpersonality had it imagined...
...impossible... I intended to incur indigenous injury inside the insulting, insensible inseminator's interiors, and what has been ever lying here is something so... tiny? Loud, her thoughts were, in comparison to how quiet she wanted to stay; actually, most of the noise she was making was the rhythmic pounding of her throbbing heart and the sound of her sex's slicky slime stumbling the stone underneath. A misunderstanding of some sorts must have happened; that thing, now that she noticed it, was smaller than her, of about four feet from nose to butt. Believable it was not that it could be anyhow dangerous; the woman was trying to think about that, though there thrived no "thence" or "therefore" about how such a thin thing threatened, thwarted and thralled the threshing, thane-ruled Thebes-alike thorp thither, through and through!
Loose, she let her fear as it was already of no danger at all; eager to show that wyvern the proper kind of slaying through the little gift hidden right underneath her skirt, she stood straight and, not caring about her cover anymore, started shifting slightly shorter to the sly, scaled saurian, all while feeling her heart throb in anticipation.
End was brought to that bravery of hers the moment the creature... shifted.