An angry Drak'ka is not to be scorned...
Written on a Kaypro II, Stored on a SSDD 5.25" disk, Transferred to a Kaypro 2X on a DSDD 5.25" disk, Copied to an IBM PC/XT, transferred to a Packard Smell 286 running 42 Track SMAX disks on a HD system, stuck in a box for 10 years until it was copied onto a dual Athlon running DOS 7 under Virtual PC with XP and uploaded to you from a flash drive that is bigger than the hard drive on the 286.
Part of the story was damaged in the process, but I wanted to throw it out for comments. Be gentle, this was written 12 years ago when I was still a cub, er, kid, um, yeah. I'm working on fixing the damaged portion and hopefully cleaning up the horrendous grammar, and the discontinuities. Sorry about the format, but that's how Wordstar works.
Requires a 4MHz Z80 or i8080 with 32K of RAM and CP/M 2.2. And a Beer.
This story contains acts of rape between a human and a dragon, or draconian if you prefer. If this offends you in any way, I'm doing something right.
(c) 07/18/1993 by (QG)
An angry Drak'ka is not to be scorned...
I walked into the inn about 9 o'clock, or somewhere in that
area. It's always hard to tell. The sun had just set, and the
cool night air was moving in to the warm, brightly-lit room. In
one quick glance, I assessed the room. The only other table
in use was occupied by a group of four figures, hooded and robed
in black. Humans by their looks, and females by their smell. They
were all staring, drinks in mid flight, at me. Or, rather at my
violet, brass belted shorts, the only thing I wore. For one of my
kind, I had no more than average endowment, but, I guess to a
human, what I had would be extra-large.
Let me explain. I'm not human, and only vaguely resemble
one. My word for myself is Drak'ka, pronounced with a growl.
Humans tend to associate the word with dragon, which I resemble
somewhat. I'm about 6'4", have a sleekly muscled body, even for
one of my kind. I have claws on both my feet and hands. Large
wings, which I keep folded, rise out of my shoulderblades. A
dragon-like head, a mouth of sharp teeth, and large horns
complete my ensemble. My eyes are violet, and my skin is a
grayish-green, which is standard fare for a male of my type. As I
mentioned, I wear only a pair of shorts and a belt, with a strap
that runs up my chest, and around to hook on the belt again, on
which I keep my weapons, and small pockets for storage. Nothing
unusual.
I took a table as far away from the group as possible, and
unfolded my wings when I sat down, as to not scrunch them up.
It's awkward to sit in a human's chair, but that has to be dealt
with. The "other" group was trying hard not to be obvious about
staring at me. I gave a small snarl of laughter, and they all
turned away like nothing had happened, which made me snarl again.
A noise at my shoulder made me look. A serving wench had
approached me and was visibly nervous. I guess they don't get
many of my kind here. I ordered a large plate of whatever meat
stew was on the menu, and a *large* tankard of honeyed mead. My
favorite.
She brought my plate, and I flipped her a golden trade-bar
from an unknown pocket on my belt. Before she had caught it, I
was attacking the stew, and paid no attention to her disbelief.
The bar was worth far more than the meal. The look on here face,
that I caught out of the corner of my eye, was one of the simple
pleasures available in this spot-on-the-map. In her surprise, she
almost looked as if she had a guilty conscious. I paid it no
heed.
The stew was excellent, with an exotic taste to it. My mind
was screaming something, but I filed it behind the base instinct
of hunger. Within minutes it was gone. I pushed the plate back
and grabbed the flagon of mead. I tilted my head back and
literally poured it down my throat, the only way to drink from a
human glass.
I dropped the flagon onto the table, and suddenly could
barely keep my eyes open. I never got that torpid after a meal,
but there's a first time for everything. I noted with groggy
uninterest that the four were gone. That was the last thought I
had before my head slumped to the table as I fell into a deep
sleep.
***
I awoke to find myself tied to a cold stone table. My legs
were slightly spread, and bound to the table at the ankles with
wide leather straps. My arms were at my sides, bound with similar
straps. My wings were spread flat, and had straps holding down
the talons at the apex and end of the wingarm. Whoever did that
knew that if the wings are not unfolded properly, blood will
cease to flow to them. It was like the table was made for me.
Altogether, it was a very comfortable position, but I was in no
mood to enjoy it.
Someone was entering the room, but no matter how I craned my
neck, I could not see who it was. But I recognized the scent. One
of the humans from the Inn. I snarled at her. "What do you want,
human bitch!?" "So ferocious," she purred as she ran a finger
down my chest. It was then I noticed I was completely naked. In
my anger, I hadn't noticed.
I shivered visibly in the wake of her finger. "So you like
that do you?" That same obnoxious purr. I wanted to throw up. "No
bitch," I snarled. "It's cold on this table." She reached over
and barehanded my snout. "Didn't hurt, s
on my dick would not let me have it. My
heart was pounding, each beat thunder in my ears. I thought I was
going to die from the feeling.
She started again, but I hardly noticed. I barely heard her
gasp as she came for what seemed to be the millionth time. This
time she didn't stop. She kept right on going. I had been so
close to orgasm so many times that at first, nothing happened.
Slowly, I felt the feeling rising higher and higher, nearing the
stop. She wasn't going to stop. I neared the edge and hung there
as her rhythm slowed to a snails pace. My heavy breathing grew
extremely erratic. My jaw, swollen from the numerous bashes
against the stone table, hit again. My eyes jammed shut.
My heart was pounding so hard, I couldn't hear my own
snarls as I began to fall over the edge with a pace a snail could
have beaten. Slowly, back and forth. My mind screamed. My body
screamed. I screamed. I fell.
The contractions of orgasm ripped into my body, travelling
up my sides and into my brain. It felt like my balls were being
forced through my dick. The sensation increased my orgasm
tenfold. Wave after wave assaulted my body, each pulse of my
thundering heart increasing the feeling more and more, until I
though that my mind was going to fly so high, I would never come
down. I went higher than I ever did before, my body riding as
high as my maleness would go.
She continued to jump on my ravaged cock, each movement
ripping my sides with another orgasm, another ball travelling up
my dick. A wail filled my ears. It was mine.
Finally she stopped, which did nothing to ease the
pleasure/pain I was feeling. I climaxed for almost a minute more,
and finally started to float back to the ground. I tried to stay,
but could find nothing to grab on to. Rational thought returned,
against my will. My climax faded to a feeling like no other.
I opened my eyes, and waited for things to focus. She
pulled off my softening cock, the air feeling as cold as my body
did after what had just happened. She crawled unsteadily to the
edge of the table, fell off and hobbled over to my face.
My eyes were slits, and my heart was still pounding in my
ears, but I could at least think. "I knew you'd enjoy it as much
as I did," she spat out. I tried to hurl a load of obscenities
about mating with things outside her species, but found my mouth
would not work. Nothing else worked either. She walked very
slowly toward the door. Through my partially opened eyes, I could
see she was walking bow-legged. Serves her right.
***
I lay on the table panting for almost a half-hour while my
body tried to re-establish communication with my wracked brain.
Slowly, control returned, although I had neither the will, nor
strength to move. A sound of someone coming in to the room
attracted my attention. Another of the females from the inn. She
walked over to me, her hood already down, a look of lewd thoughts
on her face. No more! I tried to whine, but only gurgled.
"Look like you gave sis the time of her life." the female
mumbled. "Wish I could try to, but that's for another time. I do
have something for you, however." She ran a finger down my sweat-
slicked body, and I could see the nasty thoughts running through
her mind. She gently reached under my elbow, pressed her thumb in
the crook of my arm, and suddenly jabbed a dart into my arm. I
don't think I would have needed the Grathikka tipped dart to put
me to sleep, if I had just been left alone.
***
I awoke to the feeling of pain in my jaw, and my whole body
inclusive. I tried to pull myself up. Pleasure/pain wracked my
body in the agonized moment it took to get to my feet. I realized
I was fully dressed in my shorts-belt. Evidently, I couldn't
think and stand at the same time. I fell over, and grabbed for
something to steady on.
I had grabbed the bedpost of a large four poster bed.
Clutching the post for dear life, I looked around. I was in my
rented suite at the town's local "fancy" hostelry. The bed,
already turned down, was inviting. I worked my way over to the
side, crawled in, and scooted down under the cotton covers,
resting my head on the down pillows. Laying on my stomach, I
stretched my wings, and relaxed them over the side of the bed.
Pulling up the extra-wide blanket made just for my kind, I
drifted alarmingly fast toward sleep.
I though about what had happened today. The female had
overlooked one detail. Actually two. The first being that she was
fertile. The second being that our species could produce
offspring. It was the mating of some unnamed demon and several
human females that gave birth to my race. The child she would
produce would be a full-blooded drak'ka, and she would most
definitely die in the birthing process. The human female was
never designed to deliver something that large.
When the time came, nine months from now, I would know
exactly where she was. She was carrying my child. And I was not
going to let humans raise him. Yes, him. My revenge would be
complete.
***
Comments welcome!