Mirage City

• Chapter 15 in the Chronicles of the DragonRider

The air was deathly-still over the desert. There was not a single cloud in the skies, and not a single grain of sand stirring below. The heat rising from the endless dunes was staggering, and on these heat-plumes, Blake soared effortlessly, rarely needing to even flap his wings. Normally, flying on Blake's back involved lots of noisy wingbeats and wind whistling in her ears, but right now, it was almost disturbingly quiet. At least that meant they didn't have to resort to telepathy to chat.

"So, what exactly are we looking for?" Blake asked, sharp eyes scanning the unbroken sands below and spotting nothing more interesting than the occasional cactus. "Well, that's the trouble..." Anitra replied, scanning the documents in her hand. With the general lack of wind, she wasn't particularly concerned about losing hold of the valuable sheets. "It's a MIRAGE city. The whole place is covered in a dome of illusions, rendering it entirely invisible up until the point where you walk facefirst into their walls. Oh, and supposedly, the mirage was put in place by a powerful Jinn enslaved by the city's Immortal Sultan, Haroun Al-Rashid... I can't say for sure, but Jinns tend to be semi-omnipotent, just shy of Gods when it comes to magic, and illusions are their specialty - so we can't count on even your eyes being able to penetrate those mirages."

Blake snorted. "I hate to admit it, but you're probably right. Jinns are pretty damn powerful - depending on just how powerful it is, it could give me a run for my money. So... perhaps the old 'tear through the city in an inferno of fire and magic and force the natives to hand over the fragment' tactic will have to be shelved for this one." The tragic way he said it was enough to make her giggle. He really rather enjoyed doing the whole 'inferno of fire and magic' thing, that much was obvious. "True, my love. Which means we'll have to fall back on our OTHER default tactics: You hide outside and I sneak in to steal the fragment."

A 'ha-rumph' emerged from Blake's maw along with a small cloud of smoke. "Right. Isn't that the tactics where you inevitably wind up either getting raped, or having to use sex to bribe your way in somewhere?" "Jealous, my dear?" She laughed, leaning down over his neck to give him a hug. "Bored, more like. Every time you do that, you have all kinds of adventures, while I get to sit on a hill somewhere eating sheep and getting blueballed. Only, there's absolutely nothing worth hunting in this god-forsaken desert, so I'd be just be sitting on a dune somewhere bored outta my skull." He sighed gustily. "I'm just glad I drank half that lake back there before we flew into this place. I may not be a camel, but I should be good for several days. Those supplies we brought won't last very long once I start partaking in them." He glanced back across his shoulder, past Anitra's saddle, to where several barrels of water and preserved food were lashed to his back with some improvised netting.

Shrugging, he went back to scanning the desert with his sharp eyes. "Either way, we first gotta FIND the damn place. I wonder how the devil Lutan did it..." Anitra shrugged, still leaned forwards, looking past his slender neck to the desert below. "We might never know. The old guy certainly had a lot of tricks up his sleeve, that's for certain. He's wandered in and out of places that nearly killed US, and nobody even knows how." She straightened up and went back to checking the documents in her hand. "What we do know, however, is that it IS possible to get there, since our old friend Cassius Novack revealed the exact coordinates of the hidden city to the world a few hundred years ago."

She glanced up at the clear blue sky, shielding her eyes with her free hand. "Of course, the desert's notoriously short on useful landmarks. Those who visit the city do so by traveling at night and navigating by the stars. Do YOU know how to navigate by the stars?" Blake grunted. "I'm a dragon, love. We're more accustomed to looking DOWN than UP." Anitra grinned, nodding. She'd known that already. "Well, I don't know how to do that either. Which means we need help from someone who CAN. Fortunately, there's likely to be a solution hiding in the sands below us..."

"You see," she continued, "ever since Cassius revealed the location of Mirage City to the world, fearless merchants have made the dangerous trek across the desert to visit it, in the hopes of purchasing some of the legendary goods available there - mostly anything from Mirage City fetches a premium on any marketplace in the west, mundane and enchanted goods alike. The problem was to find something to SELL in Mirage City. The place is essentially self-sufficient - they grow all their own food - and they are sufficiently self-absorbed that they don't consider most goods from the 'outside world' to be worth their time."

"Knowing the creativity and greed of human merchants, I suspect they found something in the end..." Blake interjected, raising a scaly eyebrow at her. She nodded. "As you say. Turns out that the prideful people of Mirage City aren't too fond of manual labor. They consider themselves 'above' such things. So the less scrupulous merchants started selling them slaves." Blake nodded. "Ah yes, you mentioned that earlier - that Mirage City is known for its slave-market." "Indeed - seeing as it's about the ONLY thing you can profitably import there, slave-drivers from across the world will march their stock to Mirage City, hoping to make a profit. Most of the slaves don't survive the walk across the desert, but if they can manage to sell even a FEW on the markets of Mirage City, and then use those profits to buy rugs, artwork, wine, jewelry and other valuables there, they can make a huge profit once they return to the so-called 'civilized' cities of the west."

Blake grinned back at her. "I see, I see... but I'm guessing that manual labor isn't the only thing the slaves being sold there gets used for, am I wrong?" Anitra rolled her eyes in reply. "True, true. Apparently the wealthier merchants and nobles of Mirage City habitually maintain Harems. Since the slave-trade with the outside world was opened, the size of the average Harem in Mirage City has more than tripled, and the number of people who maintain them has easily doubled. By now, slave-girls are more in demand there than strong men for manual labor. Just another amusing little factoid from Lezard's documents." Blake's laugh resounded in the still air. "Hah! Knew it. Humans never change."

Anitra shrugged. "Probably not. But the point is that there are regular caravans passing through this desert, bringing slaves to the city and valuable goods back. All we have to do is find one, and get 'em to tell us the way. Gold or threats will do the trick... well, gold is likely to work better. Any merchant who braves these wastes is likely to be quite fearless. It may LOOK dead from up here, but the sands are crawling with snakes and scorpions - particularly at night, which is of course when they have to do most of their traveling - all of them poisonous, most of them deadly. Although I hear that SOME of them will merely cripple you with pain and continuous seizures." "Cheery thought... well, we'll probably have a better chance finding a caravan heading TO the city than from it. Slaves take up a lot more space than assorted valuable goods, and more importantly... they SMELL more."

His nose vibrated as he breathed in the dry desert air, carefully analyzing it for traces of his prey. In this sweltering desert heat, the smell of human sweat and grime would be the all-dominating scent of a slave-caravan, and sure enough, he was picking up a slight, remote nuance of it from off to the right. "Hang on - I think I might have something..." with a fierce grin, he rapidly beat his wings, taking off through the still air, enjoying the thrill of the hunt despite the fact that he probably wouldn't get to eat what he found.

Ten minutes later, a grizzled slave-trader got the shock of a lifetime - and it hadn't even been a particularly quiet sort of lifetime - when a black dragon soared from the skies without a sound, and landed in the sands right in front of his horse. The horse immediately reared, whinnying loudly and getting ready to bolt, but with a single word, the merchant calmed it. Behind him, the caravan he was leading skidded to a halt - not that they'd been going very fast in the first place - as the slaves stared at the suddenly-appeared monster with terror in their eyes. Even the sturdy ruffians who were guarding the caravan looked about ready to bolt, and they'd faced their share of monsters.

But the lead merchant stood firm, his eyes narrowing against the gleam of sunlight coming off the dragon's smooth scales, and so they gritted their teeth and stood their ground as well. They'd traveled with the old man for years, and knew that he had a flair for turning even the most deadly situation into a profitable opportunity.

And sure enough, rather than panicking, he'd noted that the dragon had a rider, dressed in some fancy-looking armor. He's been around the block enough times to know what sort of people rode dragons - powerful people. Dangerous people. RICH people. And usually not the sort who'd show themselves in front of you just for kicks. If this pale-skinned woman had wanted him or his men dead, they would've perished in a gout of flame without ever even realizing that a dragon was near.

With a studied elegance that indicated that he had faced his share of royalty despite his ragtag appearance, he bowed from his saddle. "Greetings, noble warrior. What can this old merchant do for you on this fine day?" The woman grinned, perhaps impressed by his calm, or perhaps just amused by hearing such fancy words from a scar-faced slave-trader dressed in simple robes. "Is it a fine day, merchant? In this place, I find it hard to tell. Clearly, you know the lay of the land better than I... which is convenient, since what I require from you is directions, first and foremost."

He nodded studiously, feeling the tension behind him ease a bit as his men - and the more alert of the slaves - realized that the dragon most likely wasn't there looking for a meal. "For Mirage City, I presume? There is little else in this place that could hope to interest one of your magnitude..." He gave her a calculating glance as she nodded, pulling at his lower lip. "I do not mean to disrespect, but are you perhaps a guest of the Sultan?" She shrugged. "I haven't got an invitation, if that's what you mean."

He winced. Of course not. That would've been too simple. Nothing was ever that simple. "If you are not expected by the Sultan, flying across his walls on a dragon's back will most likely be seen as an invasion, and be met by immediate aggression. And if I am seen guiding you there... it would not end well for me either. I hope you can understand my position." She returned his guarded look with a piercing stare. "You certainly seem on top of things... yes, what you're saying is more or less what I'd expected. In truth, I wasn't planning to bring my steed along when I visited the city." Her eyes shifted, and she glanced across his shoulder to the assembled slaves - which were trying to stay as far away from them as their chains would allow - and his men, which were doing much the same, only restrained by pride rather than chains. "But perhaps we can discuss this somewhere slightly more... private."

He nodded, carefully keeping his face neutral while inwardly breathing a great sigh of relief. Powerful types often weren't used to being told 'no', and many of them didn't take it very well, no matter how reasoned. This girl apparently wasn't that sort, however, and that meant that not only was there still a chance for him to get out of this with his hide intact, he might even manage to draw a profit on the way. "Certainly. If you'll give me a minute..."

He turned around in his saddle and bellowed at his men. "All right, you lazy gits! Time to earn your keep. We've gotten far enough for today - set up camp, and make sure everybody gets some rest, we'll be marching again tonight!" The ragtag bunch of ruffians sprang into action, while the slaves almost collectively sat down in the sand to rest, still throwing nervous looks at the dragon's menacing form, but more concerned right now with resting their legs and getting a bit of food and water in them.

Despite their rough looks, the guards proved quite efficient - within ten minutes, they'd beaten stout poles into the sand and attached the slaves to them, and erected a couple of tents that appeared to have the styling of the Kh-zar Nomads, fearless wanderers of the Great Northern Wasteland. Simple, efficient, easy to erect and pack up, and superb at keeping heat in or out, as needed. As the guards started passing out water-rations and erecting simple cloth shelters for the slaves, the head merchant approached the smaller of the tents, and beckoned for Anitra to follow.

The inside of the tent was as simple as the outside - no furnishings except the woven rug that kept the sand out, and a few large pillows to sit on. A glowing crystal was suspended from the roof of the tent, bathing the inside in an uncomfortably stark light - practical, though, considering that a brazier or candle would give off heat, negating some of the advantage of the insulating tent. Sitting down on one of the pillows, Anitra took the time to study the merchant closely. His face was tanned, weatherbeaten, wrinkled, and had quite a few scars on it - most notably, his left ear was entirely missing, and the scarring that surrounded it indicated that it hadn't been lost to a clean cut. Most likely, it'd become a snack for some hungry beast. Being a traveling merchant, regardless of whether your wares were alive or not, was far from a safe career...

She wasn't sure how old he was, but she was pretty sure he was well past the average life-expectancy of an itinerant merchant. The way he'd managed to keep his cool when she appeared in front of him also indicated that he'd seen a few things in his time. Thinking back, she realized that he was the third person to stare Blake down without fear in a fairly short period of time - the first was an Orcish Warlord, the second an Amazon Queen... and the third was this guy, a simple, traveling merchant and slaver. Yes, she'd be careful not to underestimate him...

"I was quite impressed with the way you handled your horse when I landed." She said, by way of opening conversation. "Animals tend to bolt when they smell a predator that large, no matter how well-trained." The merchant shrugged. "I cannot take credit for that, madam. That horse is one I bought in Mirage City during an earlier visit. Not only is he bred for the desert environments, powerful enchantments have been woven into his blood, making him immune to the various poisonous critters of this land - and making it possible for the owner to put him under complete control with a single, magical word."

Anitra grinned. "Such a horse did not come cheap, no doubt. Having bought such a steed not only indicates that you are a highly successful merchant, but also that you have great foresight. You bought him because you meant to return, did you not? I'd say all that is even more impressive than just having a knack for keeping your horse under control..." The merchant bowed slightly. "If you say so, madam. Now, I believe you wished to gain access to Mirage City yourself?"

Down to business, then. "Indeed. And as you said, barging in the front door is unlikely to endear me to the locals. In fact, I was thinking of sneaking in undetected, if possible. I think you could be very helpful with regards to that. And I also think you could make a tidy profit by being helpful to me." The merchant's eyes were very sharp as he nodded. "Perhaps I could, at that. But it would also be a risky profit..." She snorted. "You wouldn't be here if you were afraid of risk. And keep in mind, as you calculate risk and reward, the potential repercussions should you refuse to cooperate with me. There are other slave-caravans out here and not much prey for my pet to hunt. I hope you can understand my position..."

The merchant gritted his teeth and nodded. "Cutting through the niceties, are we? Right. If I help you, I risk death but might make a profit if I survive. If I refuse to help you, I'm dead for sure, as are all my men. However, you're plotting something fairly complex. You need someone skilled and smart on your side to pull it off. And you know I'm that someone. So at least do me the courtesy of offering me a profit that SOMEWHAT corresponds to the risk I'll be taking..."

Anitra raised her eyebrows, then grinned. "Well, you're certainly not lacking for confidence. Fair enough. I'll give you a chance to prove that you're not just talk. Any merchant could get me into the city, I think. Just a matter of putting some rags on me and passing me off as a slave long enough to get through the gates. But once I got inside, I'd be on my own. If you can make things easier for me than that, then I don't mind throwing you some gold for your troubles..."

The merchant leaned forwards, an eager glint in his eyes. Now they were getting down to the core of things. "I like the sound of that. What do you need, girl?" A short laugh escaped Anitra's throat. Girl, was it? Quite a step down from 'madam'. But it showed that he was taking her seriously now, instead of just trying to flatter her. She'd take an earnest 'girl' over a fake 'madam' any day of the week. "I need to get into the Palace. I got a good look at the merchandise you're shipping - they all look in decent shape, and will no doubt fetch a tidy profit on the markets, but none of them are really Grade-A High-Class goods, are they? Think you have what it takes to sell something spectacular?" She leaned back, subtly changing her pose to show off her body.

The merchant let his eyes roam freely, showing no particular desire or shame. He was assessing her as a piece of merchandise - not a particularly pleasant feeling, but at least it showed his level of professionalism. "Hmm. You'd certainly be a showstopper at the markets. Several of the top-flight nobles would have a bidding-war for the right to add someone like you to their harems. But the Royal Harems is something else. Specifically, they're full. Apparently, the religion they have there sets a strict upper limit to the size of a man's Harem, and the Sultan scrupulously sticks to those rules. In other words, to get into his Harems, you'd have to be so outstanding that he'd be willing to kick out one of his current wives."

The merchant leaned back, and stared thoughtfully up at the glowing crystal in the ceiling. "I could get you some attention from the palace, easily. Set up a private auction, just for the big-wigs, and invite the Chief Eunuch as a matter of 'courtesy'. They're big on courtesy. He'll show up just to make an appearance, even if he's not intending to buy. But despite your striking appearance, I doubt that alone would convince him to suggest that a space be made for you in the Royal Harems." Anitra's lips curled in a naughty grin. "I see, I see... so in other words, I'd have to do something more than just look pretty to get in there. Interesting. You make it sound like that's a problem. I know a lot of tricks, merchant. Enough to maybe even surprise a man as jaded as you."

The merchant's eyebrows shot up. "Indeed? If you are truly that set on getting in, then maybe... but... hmm. I've heard things, certainly. The Sultan has been around for a long time, you know. They call him 'The Immortal Sultan' for a reason. Spending that much time, with a harem no less, can make a man bored with the conventional pleasures of the flesh. So he's taken to some fairly exotic amusements. They say that part of the reason why he agreed to allow foreign merchants in the city was specifically so that he could purchase slave-girls... because his other wives are the children of noblemen, advisors and local merchants, who might be displeased if he leveled such treatment at their daughters."

Anitra simply nodded. "Sounds likely. So what you're saying is that I'll have to do some fairly humiliating and/or painful things to catch his royal eye. And because I'm such an important and powerful person myself, you doubt I'd actually be willing to go through with it." He shrugged, and she grinned in response. "Well, I'm sorry to say, but your keen eye has failed you on this count. I'm quite experienced at using my body to get my way, and it doesn't bother me anymore, insofar as it ever has... let me tell you about some of my recent adventures."

A couple of hours later, the caravan guards looked up to see their boss emerge from his tent along with that scantily-clad dragon-riding woman. They seemed to be on amicable terms - at least, the woman wasn't making a run for her dragon and crying out for blood and fire, which all of the guards agreed was a good thing. The boss, however, seemed a tad flustered, one of them noted. In fact, he seemed to be blushing. One of the older guards, however, assured his fellows that it had to be a trick of the light - no matter how nice-looking that girl in the fancy armor might be, there was no way she could've had that sort of effect on the boss. He was, after all, a man who could look at the most skilled courtesans in the world and calmly calculate how much they were worth without batting an eyelid, much less blushing.

Anitra grinned as she walked over to Blake to fish a heavy bag of gold out of his saddlebags. It had been fun breaking through the merchants' stoic façade, and he seemed to be onboard with the plan now. He'd make a nice profit 'selling' her to the Palace, but she still had to pitch in some gold herself to compensate him for the risk he'd be taking, as well as the trouble he'd have to go through to 'infiltrate' her into the slave-caravan. Wouldn't do to have all of the slaves blabbing to their new master about a dragon-riding spy amongst them, after all.

Blake, whom she had been keeping up-to-date on the negotiations via telepathy, grumbled as she picked up the gold. Knew it. You aren't even in there yet, and already it's clear that you won't be gettin' bored. Just as I said, eh? She winced a bit as she hefted the sack. He did have a point, after all. Her adventures might not always be entirely pleasant, but she certainly didn't spend much time bored. Well, it wasn't like HE never found some fun to have while waiting... heck, it'd happened... twice? Yeah, that filly from the Land of the Horse-People, and that golden dragon from that island... and that was pretty much it.

Then she remembered the conversation they'd had about that subject as they flew away from the Island of the Amazons, and a subtle smile spread across her lips. Carrying the sack of gold, she approached the merchant, who was standing near his tent with a look of barely-disguised greed on his face as the jingling sound of the bag spoke eloquently to him of riches untold. "Don't get your hopes up - it isn't ALL for you." She said teasingly, setting down the sack in the sands and opening it to show him the golden shine inside. "However... while we're dealing, there was another thing..."

His eyes immediately tore themselves away from the bright gold to find hers, narrowing rapidly. "Oh?" He said in a guarded manner. Their present deal, while certainly profitable, was also quite risky, and from the sound of it, he'd about had his fill of risk. She grinned at him. "Don't look so worried, it's nothing dangerous. In fact, it might make our main deal easier for you to pull off. See, I just remembered that I'm in the market for a slave..."

Shortly afterwards, she found herself browsing through the slaves. Two half-shelters had been erected between the dunes and in this meager shade, the sorry-looking lot were sitting, resting their legs. To make matters more convenient for her, the slaves were segregated by gender, so all the girls were in one place - there was probably several good reasons for that. But as she glanced across the raggedy bunch, she found herself strangely conflicted.

It seemed like she ought to feel SOMETHING. Not long ago, she had found several of her oldest friends languishing in abject slavery, and fought to free them. Then, almost casually, she'd rescued a pale, freckled slave-girl from the Amazons while she was there on other business. And yet, now she was contemplating the purchase of a slave, no different from them, and consigning some poor, unfortunate girl to what would no doubt be an unpleasant fate. But the only thing she felt was... surprise at the fact that she didn't feel anything.

As she glanced across the tired-looking slave-girls, trying to discern some beauty underneath their grime, she analyzed her feelings and her memories. When she had first become a DragonRider, Blake had told her that part of that transformation was a general disregard for the lives of humans. It came with being a dragon, somehow. In a way, her compassionate response in the previous two cases was the abnormality - as Blake's half-serious grousing about 'wasting time' had shown.

It was, presumably, a matter of familiarity. Her old friends from back home were, well, old friends. She'd known them long before she even became a DragonRider. And that girl on the island of the Amazons - she hadn't really cared much about her at first, either, but then she'd let the girl tell her life-story on a whim, and wound up taking an interest. Apparently, once she actually got to KNOW someone, her human side started to recognize them as a person, overriding her dragon-side dismissing them as 'just another human'.

So in other words, shopping for slaves was no problem as long as she didn't take the time to get to personally know the girl. Good to know. Better yet, she'd spotted someone that Blake might like... the girl certainly possessed her lover's most-obvious favorite physical trait - long, smooth, midnight-black hair. And the face underneath it wasn't half bad either - the girl's features were quite delicate, and her skin was well-tanned with a slight, yellowish cast to it, indicating that it was more a matter of race than sun-exposure. One oddity was a red dot in the middle of her forehead - seemingly some kind of adornment rather than natural coloration. Her body, underneath the ragged robes, seemed at once subtle and well-developed, without being over-ripe.

"You have a keen eye..." The merchant commented from next to her, having noticed her attention focusing. "I have been expecting to make a nice profit off of this girl. She's from a jungle-covered peninsula down south - a dangerous place known for its ferocious predators and extremely spicy foods. Few merchants dare venture there since local rules of courtesy forbid you from turning down an offered meal... fortunately, I have an advantage in that area." Anitra lifted a curious eyebrow in his direction. The merchant grinned. "I got poisoned once - long story. Got an antidote in time, but it kind of fried my mouth. Can't taste much of anything anymore, so even the most fiery dish barely evokes a response from me."

Anitra returned his grin. He'd seemed a lot more personable since she broke through his stoicism in the tent. "Fascinating. Actually, I think I'd like to try some of those dishes... maybe I'll go visit that place when I have the time. Anyway, I'll take her, with the conditions we discussed earlier. Name your price." The merchant's face instantly snapped back into its 'professional' setting, and he gave a curt bow. "As you wish. Let us go discuss the exact fee in my tent. I find that talking about a slave's exact worth in front of her can sometimes encourage misbehavior." As Anitra nodded and followed him back to the tent, she felt the slim girl's eyes drill into the back of her head. Even the most apathetic slave would take an interest in their buyer, it seemed...

Having settled accounts with the merchant and worked out the last details of their plan, she returned to Blake's side, carrying a now-much-lighter bag of gold. That merchant's too clever for his own good... Blake groused over their telepathic link, unheard by the caravenners nearby. He'd betray you in a heartbeat if he thought he could make a profit of it._Anitra shrugged. _I wasn't planning on turning my back on him... but you gotta admit that it's a neat little plan, my love. A bit of eye-catching acrobatics and I'll be right in the center of the Royal Palace. Beats trying to sneak IN, past whatever magical and mundane barriers are no doubt in place.

He snorted. True, true. But why is it that you're beelining for the royal palace? As I recall, we have no idea where in the city the tablet-piece might be... Anitra briefly stopped in her track. She hadn't actually thought of that. It had just seemed natural... she shrugged. Call it intuition. Or pattern-recognition. Of all the tablet-pieces we've found so far, how many have been just lying around somewhere random? Her mate lifted a scaly eyebrow before replying. Two. Arguably three, if you count the one that was just lying around on top of a sarcophagus.

She rubbed her chin. True... both the Drow and the Cultists had just stuffed the tablet-piece in some out-of-the-way nook because they didn't know what it was. But even in those cases, it was the local leader who knew where to find it. And in all the other cases, the tablet-pieces have been treasured keepsakes or trophies, or even holy relics. So the Sultan's Palace seems by far the most likely place to start. He shrugged, sending a small cloud of fine-grained sand billowing from his muscular flanks. Can't argue with that. And hey, at least this clever arrangement comes with a nice fringe benefit for me... He grinned naughtily, and she returned it in kind as she jumped into the saddle. Well, I DID promise you, didn't I?

The caravan-guards watched the dragon take off in a cloud of sand, and rapidly soar to become a speck of black in a sky too bright to look at for long. They breathed a collective sigh of relief, even as their boss turned to face them, then strode over to where the slaves were sitting, pulling the brown-skinned girl with the red dot in her forehead away from the others. "All right, guys, here's what you need to know about the business I was doing with the lady on the dragon: This slave is now Reserved. A very important person is waiting to receive her in the Mirage City. Which means that, should she fail to reach that place in perfect condition, ALL of our asses will be on the line. You do NOT want someone who rides a dragon coming back for a refund."

There was, indeed, general agreement on that particular matter. Enough that none of them did much more than grumble a bit under their breath when the merchant declared that the girl would be riding high with him for the rest of the trip, rather than trundle through the sands and risk stepping on a scorpion or a snake - as well as sleeping in his magically-warded (and chilled) tent. That meant that she'd be traveling in significantly greater comfort than any of the guards, and a few of the younger DID complain about that, albeit in hushed tones, once their master had turned away. An older guard, however, overheard, and snorted at them. "Don't take it personal, boys. He's a merchant. It's never anything personal - just numbers. Did you see how much gold that crazy woman on the dragon was carrying? And do you know how much your salaries are? Right now, that girl is worth more than ten of us - and that's a simple truth."

The girl, while somewhat confused, certainly didn't seem to mind getting to sleep on a soft pillow rather than the prickly sand, and riding on the strong back of the merchant's stout stallion instead of slogging barefooted through the dunes. She hadn't said a word since her sudden change of status, but that wasn't unexpected - one of the first things that were drilled into the head of a slave was "Don't speak unless spoken to." But while she remained silent, the merchant - for whom being able to read body-language was a survival-skill - could clearly sense that she was gaining hope. No doubt, she was now dreaming of a comfortable life as the valued wife of a great nobleman, or something of that sort. And in truth, that very well might have happened, had she wound up on the market normally. She was, after all, quite pretty, and being an exotic rarity never hurt either. But that wasn't the way it had happened, and while the girl in the black armor hadn't stated outright what she wanted a slave for... the stories she had told gave him a pretty good idea. If he hadn't been such a hardened cynic, he would likely have pitied her double for her raised hopes and the inevitable crash they were heading for.

But business was business, and when they stopped to rest for the last time, knowing that they'd reach the unseen walls of Mirage City on the next day, it was time to execute the plan that would either make this his most profitable trip ever, or see him flee the city as swiftly as his horse could run, leaving behind most of his wealth in order to save his own skin. Such was life. While making the final preparations - which included handing the girl a sponge and a small amount of water, telling her to wash herself as best she could so that she could be 'presentable' for when she met her new owner - he looked out his tent door at the deepening twilight, reflecting on his controversial choice to travel mostly during the day.

Most of his peers preferred to rest during the day, and travel during the cold nights - it was easier to find the right course that way, with the stars to maneuver by, and walking during the night was much easier on the slaves as well as the water-supplies. However, he had run the numbers, and realized that, what with snakes, scorpions and various other unpleasant and inevitably poisonous critters mostly coming out at night, it was actually more profitable to march during the day. He had to bring extra camels to carry enough water to keep the slaves - and his guards - going through the hot days without dying from thirst and heat-exhaustion, but with fewer slaves falling prey to the night-critters, he had more to sell on the markets once he arrived and that more than made up for the added expenses. And of course, his impeccable sense of direction (along with a well-built compass he had purchased at no small expense during one of his travels) ensured that he wasn't reliant on the stars for directions.

The girl had finished her 'bath', and so, it was time for him to get going. Her nudity, curves, and submissive posture barely registered on him as he handed her a simple, sand-colored robe similar to his own (though still much, much nicer than the rags she'd been wearing before), and a pair of sandals to cover her bare feet. Then he quietly lifted the back of his tent - having taken care to loosen the relevant connections earlier - and ordered her to crawl out that way. She hesitated briefly at this surprising command, but she had been a slave for quite a few years and had gotten used to following orders regardless. Smoothly, she ducked through the small space, and out into the night-darkened sands, with the merchant following closely behind her, holding the chain attached to her slave-collar.

Without a word, the merchant led her away from the encampment, keeping his sizeable tent between them and the rest of the caravan until they'd crossed the first dune. His sharp eyes darted back and forth, penetrating the gathering darkness as he searched for those subtle signs of movement that would indicate the presence of something poisonous and territorial. She merely followed in his footsteps, paying no particular attention to their sometimes circuitous route.

It wasn't a very long walk, however. As they crossed the next dune, their goal came into view. It was a tent, of sorts - a pit had been dug into the shifting sands, and a large cloth had been strapped across it, creating a large, cool den. Sand had already been blown across the roof, rendering it all but indistinguishable from the surrounding desert. Fortunately its flatness - and the unceasing desert winds - ensured that the amount of sand remained small enough not to threaten the integrity of the cloth. All in all, a neat hidey-hole, visible only from a single angle - which, as it happened, was the angle they were approaching from.

The merchant paused only momentarily to regard the place before continuing down the steep incline that led into the den. It was a neat setup, he concluded - extremely practical if you happened to have something handy that could dig a large pit in a short time. So not particularly practical for most people, but for this girl, it was quite clever. The insides proved to be an even more impressive display of what one might call 'practical applications of having a dragon handy'... the floor, rather than being nothing but shifting grit, was made from rough-surfaced glass, no doubt a product of the dragon's fiery breath. A glow-crystal not unlike his own was dangling from the ceiling, dispelling the deepening gloom. Both the dragon and his rider seemed to be quite comfortable there, too - the girl was currently sitting with her back against the huge beast's flank, grinning at him.

"I see you've set up a nice den for your steed here. I trust you found the city in accordance with my directions, then?" The girl nodded. "Yup. We didn't dare get too close, and there really seems to be no way to see through the mirages that cover it... but once we spotted half a scorpion walking around alive, well, it wasn't hard to add the numbers up. And no, I didn't see anything that might dissuade me from following through on this plan. Everything's ready on your end?" He nodded. "Certainly. And as you can see, the slave you ordered is hereby delivered." He held out the chain, and she jumped to her feet to grab it, before sharply yanking it to send the trailing slave-girl stumbling forwards into her arms.

"Ooo, you ARE a pretty one. Even prettier now that you've cleaned up a bit and gotten some decent clothes. Don't you agree, Blake my dear?" She glanced over her shoulder at the towering dragon, who grinned broadly as he devoured the girl with his eyes. Even without his well-honed ability to read body-language, the fear, concern and confusion on her face would've been clear as day. The black-armored woman glanced at him. "Would you mind stepping outside for a bit? I need to make the last preparations and change into my 'disguise', then I'll join you and we can get going." He nodded, and left them to their devices. Whatever they intended to do to that girl, he didn't particularly need to see.

Seeing the merchant's back disappear up the incline that led outside their little 'underground base', Anitra turned her attention back to the slavegirl, licking her lips. "All right, girl - I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to strip off that nice robe now. I need it, you see - and you don't. Not anymore." The girl made a nervous glance towards Blake, swallowed something, and nodded as she started opening the front of the robe to strip it off. While she did this, Anitra followed suit, stripping off her armor and sword, sealing them both in one of Blake's saddlebags with a sigh. She felt a tad naked without her equipment - so to speak - but there was no way she could smuggle all that stuff into the city while undercover as a slave.

The slavegirl mutely handed her the sandy-colored robe, showing no visible discomfort at her nudity - she hadn't been wearing anything beneath it - though she DID flinch violently when Blake shifted his weight and moved towards them, his nostrils flaring as he took in the girl's scent. Anitra sighed as she tied up the front of the robes and pulled up the hood. "You're afraid of my big friend here, huh? That's good. You should be." The girl glanced back at her, fear starting to penetrate the apathy that marked a slave as surely as the collar. Anitra looked up at Blake and grinned. "Not exactly a virgin sacrifice, is she?"

Blake snorted loudly, causing the girl to jump. "Not hardly. Probably for the best, though. Wouldn't last long otherwise." She rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to the rather jumpy slavegirl. "All right, let me make a few things clear to you. Firstly, I'm giving you as a gift to the big guy here. His name's Blake. You can call him 'Master'. You'll do what he says, like a good little slavegirl. It won't be pleasant, probably. In fact, I suspect it'll be quite an agonizing experience. But you should always keep in mind that it CAN get worse - and it WILL if you do something stupid. Like, say, disobey his commands, or try to get into his saddlebags, or try to run away. He's got your scent now, y'know. Even if you managed to get away, he'd easily track you through this entire god-forsaken desert if necessary."

Her eyes hardened as she stared down the shivering girl. "Always keep that in mind. Your 'service' will probably end in your death, but don't think for a second that you've got nothing to lose. There are ALWAYS worse ways to die. Like, say for instance, if all your limbs were chewed off and the stumps cauterized, leaving you in agony on the sands as heat and thirst slowly killed you." Blake clacked his teeth for emphasis. The noise resounded unpleasantly off of the hard glass floor. It was probably unnecessary, though - the girl seemed to be thoroughly scared out of her wits already.

Then one of Blake's massive claws flashed out with the speed of a striking viper, and with unerring precision, he cut through the iron collar on her neck, without so much as drawing blood. She barely moved, seemingly too petrified with fear to even flinch anymore, her pupils widely dilated, her breath coming in short, sharp bursts. Blake grinned broadly. The smell of her fear was thick in the den - a scent that aroused his predatory instincts. There was no need to hunt, though - his prey wasn't going anywhere.

Anitra sighed and shook her head. "Well, I'm sure you two will get along swimmingly. I, however, need to get going. I'll keep in touch if possible, my love, but if not... you'll just have to wait 'till I return." Blake nodded. "I'll wait here for as long as I can. If you take too long, though, I may have to start raiding nearby caravans for food and water. Just call me as soon as you get outside of the dome - there's still a chance that our telepathy will work through it, but considering our track-record in that department, I'm not holding out much hope..."

They shared a quick, yet tender kiss, before Anitra climbed out of the den to join the waiting merchant, leaving Blake to sigh as he contemplated the prospect of another as-yet-unknown period of time without his beloved rider. At least he'd have some entertainment for a while - though how long this girl would last remained to be seen. Well, there were things she could do to entertain him without imperiling the integrity of her internal organs... this long journey with Anitra had taught him a great many things, more than he'd expected considering his age and the number of tales he'd absorbed from Inferand - and amongst those things were quite a few ways to do something that could be loosely termed as sex without actually involving his sizeable cock going inside a girl's body. Was the slave-girl scared enough of him by now to do all those things without protestation? He'd enjoy finding out...

The following day, a slave-caravan passed through the unseen gates of Mirage City. Not a terribly rare occurrence, but the guards there did their job conscientiously anyway. The merchant leading the caravan, however, was known to them - he had visited the city on several other occasions, and made powerful friends, a fact that he never stated outright - but somehow, it hung in the air anyway. And so, the guards expedited their search for contraband in the packs and troublemakers in the ranks of the slaves and guards, called it 'good enough', and ushered him into the city proper.

It was not unlike stepping foot on an entirely different plane of existence, so unlike the barren sands outside was the city. The slaves, and those of the guards who hadn't been there before, gaped wide-eyed at the wonders, while those more experienced guards who had made the trip before merely gazed at the city and sighed, knowing that they would be able to enjoy this otherworldly beauty for only a short time.

Inside of the tall, magically-reinforced walls was a huge lake, sparkling like a sapphire in the sands. Around it, the fields of grain, plains of grass where hardy goats grazed and forests of fruit-bearing trees that had fed the city for centuries of isolation. Two great rivers could be seen, running into the lake from two sides, forming the border of the city proper, and those who squinted to see the origin of the watery flow found that it seemed to simply emerge from the walls themselves. Magic, obviously - an unnatural oasis created by the power of the Sultan's Jinn.

The city itself was just as brilliant - white walls gleaming in the sun, splendid towers and minarets with onion-shaped domes, all beautifully decorated with paintings and gold filigree. The people walking the streets also seemed quite splendid - dressed in rich cloaks of silk, with white robes reaching to the ground seemingly the most popular mode of dress, usually accessorized with a colorful turban. Though, of course, that was just the citizens proper. Behind many of them trailed slaves, carrying items or just waiting to attend to their masters. Of them, the best that could be said was that they were uniformly clean and had decent, if simple, clothes. One got the sense that they, too, were accessories, and thus had to look decent so as not to lessen their masters.

There were no female slaves in sight anywhere, however. The men of Mirage City guarded their harems jealously, though here and there, a palanquin could be seen - its passenger concealed behind heavy drapes - carried through the crowds by strong-armed, shirtless slaves. Presumably transporting someone's expensive trophy wife to some social gathering or other, so that her 'husband' could show her off to all his friends.

Things got a bit less pretty when they reached the main market. Here, the local middle-class - merchants and tradesmen - hawked their wares and services with loud, undulating cries, each of them trying to cut through the din created by everyone else doing the same. Several of the merchants recognized the man leading the caravan, and waved at him or called out to him to see their wares - indeed, it seemed like many of the stalls had more visitors than locals crowding them. Those, presumably, sold local (usually enchanted) products that were far more valuable in the outside world than inside Mirage City, and thus were quite popular with any trader looking to double his profits on the way back.

Soon afterwards, they reached the main slave-market. Anitra had known it was near for a while - the stench of unwashed, scared, sweaty slaves had been growing stronger in front of them, enough so to be recognizable despite the exact same scent being bountifully present behind them. The noise-level also rose noticeably - both from announcers crying out the eminent value of the current item on the stage, and from the bidding itself. Anitra had never visited a slave-market before - there weren't that many of them these days, since even the kingdoms that didn't expressly forbid the practice usually preferred to keep it on the down-low so as not to antagonize their more scrupulous neighbors.

But even if she HAD seen one of the few slave-markets that remained in the outside world, it wouldn't have prepared her for this. Since its inception, this had been the biggest slave-market in the world, and with the trade dropping off elsewhere, it had only grown. A dozen wooden stages dotted the huge plaza, each hosting a separate auction, surrounded by crowds. Hundreds of slaves waited under rudimentary shades for their turn on stage. Further back from the action were the tents and encampments of the dozens of slave-traders currently visiting the city, several of them adjoined by splendid show-tents where private auctions were held for select clientele, offering only the finest and most exclusive slaves.

The caravan soon settled on an empty lot, and the guards quickly assembled the tents and shades - including a large show-tent, which was just a few shades more magnificent than its peers. The merchant gazed at it with distaste in his eyes as it went up. "That thing is a terrible waste of luggage-space, and serves no practical purpose... I really wish the locals weren't so easily impressed." He grumbled to no one in particular. The older guards rolled their eyes at each other, having heard it before - their boss was notoriously disdainful of anything that served no purpose but showing off. Though, of course, his disdain stopped just short of his profit-margin.

As the day wore on, Anitra found herself sitting in the shade along with three other fairly pretty girls - two of whom she remembered skimming over when she was browsing for a gift for Blake. They didn't seem to recognize her, however, or even realize that she wasn't the same girl who got picked out back then. Of course, they were paying more attention to the market in front of them than each other. The rest of the slaves were being marched out to the nearest stage, some to be sold as lots, others going up individually - mainly the women. The merchant proved to be just as effective on the stage as he'd been in their one-on-one negotiation earlier, easily teasing the crowd into bidding higher than they'd probably planned to. All of the slaves he'd brought up were sold on the first pass, too - which seemed to be far from the norm, judging by what she could see of the other stages. Apparently his quality-centric business policies were paying off.

Hours later, as the sun set in the west and painted the marble domes of the Mirage City ruby-red, the merchant returned to them and ordered them all into the large show-tent to be washed and dressed in some local - rather skimpy - dresses for the 'exclusive' auction later. Then he pulled Anitra aside, ostensibly to discuss her 'performance' at the auction. "Don't worry about those other three..." he started out by saying, once they were alone. "They're just the 'warmup' for your performance. Basic rule of these things is that you never send in the showstopper first." She rolled her eyes in response. "Yes, yes, I trust that you know what you're doing - I saw you playing the crowd up on that stage earlier, after all. And I didn't hire you for such an exorbitant fee just to second-guess you." He merely shrugged. "Just making sure we're on the same page. Now, about the show..."

A while later, she watched from behind the curtains of the tent's stage as the exclusive, invitation-only crowd began to enter to take their seats on a selection of large, colorful satin pillows strewn across the expensive rug that made up the floor of the tent. Apparently, chairs weren't really a big hit around these parts. There weren't a lot of people, if you didn't count the attendants and bodyguards that most of them were dragging along - a mere handful, really. But each of them was self-important enough for an army, wearing richly detailed robes and huge turbans bedecked with expensive gems, each stroking their immaculately-groomed beards as they glanced at their peers - no doubt each remembering that one time when that one guy had beaten them out for a particularly exotic wife, or a really profitable business-deal, or a great gift for winning the Sultan's favor. She had a feeling that these 'exclusive auctions' were just as much a battleground for the rich and idle as anything else.

Then, one entered who stood out more than a little. He wore no turban, and had no beard - nor any hair. Rather than the intricate robes of the others, he wore simple, yet elegant robes of a partially-diaphanous, emerald-green, satin-like fabric that seemed to be popular around here. Colorful, yet tastefully understated, it made him look rather like a slightly-pudgy, overgrown butterfly. This was the one she'd been waiting for - the merchant had described him for her. Sadi, the Chief Eunuch of the Sultan, the Keeper of the Harem. He was the one she needed to impress to pull this off... which, considering the 'Eunuch' part of his title, wasn't going to be all that easy.

The rest of the crowd noticed his entrance as well - not strange, considering how much he stood out. Their attitude towards him was painfully polite, yet distant - they dispensed pleasant greetings, but otherwise held their distance from him, and the two burly palace-guards escorting him. She could understand the awkwardness - Sadi was, after all, a commoner; a mere servant without noble blood or hereditary title. Indeed, he was arguably less than a man. And yet, he held an important position within the Palace, and perhaps even the ear of the Sultan. So they couldn't treat him like an equal, but nor could they risk insulting him.

Of course, the merchant was not restrained by the need to keep up appearances, and warmly greeted the green-robed man with a firm handshake. Her sharp ears picked up their conversation even across the muttering and whispering of the rest of the crowd. "Glad you could make it, Sadi. It just wouldn't be a proper auction without you." The eunuch giggled in a strangely adorable way. "Oh, I wouldn't miss it for the world, old friend." His voice was a vibrant contralto, and certainly wouldn't have been out of place in a women's choir. "There's no better way to keep track of the current intrigues of the high nobility than to observe one of these auctions, and see who's snubbing who. Just as long as you remember..." He trailed off, and the merchant nodded, while raising an eyebrow. "Yes, yes - you're not here to buy or to bid. But who knows? Maybe THIS time, I'll have something so exotic and exclusive, you won't be able to help yourself..." Sadi just giggled again, and nimbly moved to his seat - a large, emerald-green pillow in the back of the room, which seemed to have been left empty just for him.

Anitra took a deep breath, and moved away from the curtains. She would be the last to go on stage for the auction, but she still needed to be prepared. Absently, she straightened her clothes. They weren't bad, really - thin and airy, the better to keep cool in this hot environment. The pants were long and bulbous, floating around her legs like a cloud - although a cloud would have provided better concealment, considering that they were made of that thin, satin-like material that you could basically see right through. Beneath, only a pair of smooth, silken panties of the same color - ruby-red - provided any real coverage. The top, meanwhile, was essentially a low-cut, short-sleeved shirt that ended right below her breasts, leaving her belly bare... not that the top itself provided any actual coverage, seeing as it was made from the same fabric as her pants. Her nibble-rings were rather prominently visible through it, but the merchant had assured her that they would merely add to her allure.

The other three girls were dressed similarly, but were obviously less comfortable with it, crouching in a corner while trying to cover as much of themselves as possible. They glanced up at her occasionally - whether because they were starting to get suspicious of the switcheroo, or just because they were jealous at her courage, she couldn't tell. Either way, they didn't have much of a chance to whisper about it before the show started, and the first of them was pulled onto the scene by the collar.

Anitra quietly practiced her moves backstage while absently listening to the auction. The merchant was just as effective here as he had been on the big stage, spinning grandiose tales of the remote, exotic locales where he had obtained these exclusive and unique beauties... and judging by the bidding, the audience was eating it up. Privately, Anitra was fairly certain that at least two of the three girls hailed from the Alliance of Free City-States, a rather cosmopolitan territory in the heartlands of the continent, whose weak and often-corrupt military made its outlying settlements a favorite target for raiders and pirates. Still, that might qualify as 'remote and exotic' when you lived in a place like Mirage City.

Confident that she was ready for her big performance, she returned to the edge of the stage to watch from the shadows as the auction moved briskly towards her part. The third of the girls - a winsome lass with bright-red hair and milky-white skin - was causing a bit of a bidding-war between several of the guests, though of course, Sadi the Eunuch wasn't participating. He was, she noted, not even looking at the stage, but instead focused on observing the other guests with sharp eyes that belied his otherwise soft appearance. Hopefully, she'd be able to shift his focus when the time came.

Finally, the redhead was sold off, and pushed into the arms of a noble whose rich golden robes clashed poorly with the emerald-studded, sea-blue turban perched on his head. He barely looked at his new acquisition, so busy was he sending gloating looks across the room at a man dressed in headache-inducing rainbow fabric, who had been the last person bidding on her before giving up. The merchant cleared his throat, and raised his hand to draw the attention back to himself.

"Now then, gathered nobles and friends... it is time for the final auction of this fine evening - and I can assure you all, I have most certainly saved the best for last. Tonight you will see an exotic rarity the likes of which you will not encounter again in ten - no, a hundred lifetimes! A woman so remarkable, I myself swore that she could not exist when first I heard the tales - a belief I held until I saw the truth with my own two eyes, as you are about to. Without further ado, I present to you: The snake-princess of the Southern Islands!"

At this introduction, Anitra sinuously moved onto the stage. She normally moved with a natural grace that drew attention without being obviously inhuman - but not this time. She was deliberately drawing on her superhuman agility and impossibly-subtle muscles to move with inhuman fluidity, flowing forwards as much as walking. Even without the merchant's overblown introduction, all eyes would have been on her... well, perhaps not Sadi's. But they were, now, she noted with delight as she took center stage and bowed before the crowd.

"Now, I am sure I need not tell you of her perfectly-shaped body - certainly, any man with eyes can see the size and shape of her full breasts, the width of her hips, her taut stomach and her shapely legs - so I will, instead, draw your attention to a detail that some might miss, entranced by her bodily beauty..." The merchant, unaffected by her display thanks to being well forewarned, continued his spiel unimpeded.

"I ask you, now, to lean forwards in your seats and take a look at this woman's eyes..." Anitra, as planned, leaned forwards at this, letting the light of the braziers catch in her eyes as she met the gaze of every man in the room, with particular focus on Sadi. She was not disappointed - his eyes widened visibly before he had time to assume a calm pokerface. Loud mumbling was heard from the rest of the less-than-stoic crowd as shock and amazement raced across their faces. "Those eyes... inhuman... unlike anything I've ever seen..." she heard one whisper. The merchant nodded. "Yes, indeed - your eyes are not failing you. What you see is the mark of the Snake-Princess, who was once the queen of her tribe, hidden in the deep jungles of a remote island in the far-southern seas... but they are merely the most visible sign of that which her people called 'The Blessing of the Serpent-Gods'. You have yet to see the true wonder..."

He made a grand (and completely unnecessary) gesture towards the side of the stage, and to the dull sound of hooves hitting soft carpeting, his horse entered. There were quite a few raised eyebrows in the crowd. "Yes, I see your surprise, my visitors, and I could explain to you at length the reason why my faithful steed has been called onto this stage... but I feel it would be better to simply let the show speak for itself. I will say only this - anyone who has seen a serpent devour its prey can tell you that it is able to swallow whole creatures that are much bigger than itself. The blessings of the serpent-gods are many..."

Anitra resisted the urge to roll her eyes at his showmanship as she smoothly moved to the horse's side, absently running a hand over his soft nose before diving beneath his chest. Already, the stallion's cock was beginning to emerge from its sheath, responding to the mental commands of the merchant. An enchantment of mental control over a horse could, after all, be used in more ways than one. Still, this WAS a show, and it wouldn't do for her to just lounge about while waiting. Leaning forwards, she lightly ran her tongue over the moist head of the still-soft cockhead as it flopped outside, before turning her attention to the ballsack dangling in front of her.

As the shaft expanded and hardened above her head, she gently massaged the heavy testicles with her lips and tongue, enjoying the feeling of the smooth skin against her mouth. It didn't taste like anything, not even sweat - having been thoroughly washed in expectation of this starring role in the night's performance - which she found a bit regrettable... the taste would've helped get her in the mood. Ah well - the now rock-hard shaft hovering beside her head was doing a fine job at that all by itself. As she moved backwards to position herself in front of the head, she absently heard the merchant continue his pitch despite his earlier statement about letting the scene speak for itself. "As you can see, she is quite comfortable with animals of every sort - in her tribe, it was the duty of the queen to commune with the wild spirits of the jungle, to turn the wrath of predators from the tribe and to thank the prey for their sacrifice..."

The stallion's cockhead was throbbing hard, with the characteristic flat, off-angle head of an equine cock - the urethra sticking slightly out of the slanting front like a tiny tube. The head, she knew, would flare just before he climaxed, growing into a reverse bell-shape designed to keep his seed inside of the mare. It had been a while since she last had an equine lover, she reflected as she licked her lips. The lands of the horse-people, wasn't it? Darcian and Eclipse - seemed like ages ago. Shame, too - stallions suited her well as lovers, being large enough to fully satisfy her, but not quite so large as to cause serious pain. They also tended to have great stamina and fortitude, if properly motivated.

Snapping her attention back to the present, she focused on the huge, dangling shaft in front of her, opened her mouth wide, unhinged her jaw, and leaned forwards to swallow the cockhead whole. She felt it fill her mouth with its musky taste of concentrated maleness, before she pushed forwards further. The flat head pushed only briefly against the back of her throat before she almost unconsciously straightened it, and pushed forwards with her whole body. A solid foot of equine cock disappeared down her throat, making her neck bulge visibly, before she had to stop and reposition her hands and legs for the last push.

A final surge forwards, and she found her forehead pushing against the stallion's muscular underbelly, her lips caressing the radial ring that marked the end of the cock proper - anything beyond that was technically the sheath. She could feel the shaft pushing her lungs aside, the cockhead reaching nearly to her stomach, which was as far as it was wise to go for a mortal considering the acidity that would be encountered upon proceeding any further.

Now solidly attached to the stallion - who had, thanks to the enchantments binding him, moved not an inch during the whole process - she allowed her attention to wander a bit, glancing to the side to see the impact on her audience. They seemed to be stunned into silence, leaning forwards on their pillows to get a better look - the rich masters wearing identical expressions of gobsmacked amazement as their servants and guards. "How is she still breathing..." one of them muttered, seemingly having a hard time remembering to do so himself.

The merchant just nodded with a smirk so self-satisfied, you'd think HE was the one who had pulled off the impossible feat. "She is most certainly breathing, yes. Do not think this a simple parlor-trick pulled off by someone capable of holding her breath for a while. She could quite comfortably remain in that position for hours and days. The tribesmen of the southern isles consider it a gift from the Serpent-Gods. As you can see, the many blessings and gifts that the Snake-Princess has received enable her to perform incredible acts... and she has already been trained and conditioned to obey unquestioningly. The acts she could perform for you, or for the amusement of your guests, go well beyond what a normal human could do. Now, to show you that I have not deceived you, let us see an end to this scene..."

Another wholly-unnecessary gesture released the restraints on the horse. He snorted, suddenly aware of the fact that that his cock was wrapped in a tight, hot, wet orifice. Even if his magic-addled brain was unclear on how, exactly, he wound up in that situation, he wasn't about to question it. There could be only one response. With a shuddering, his muscular hindquarters began to flex, pulling a good foot-an-a-half of wet horsecock out of her mouth, leaving his cockhead lodged just inside her throat. Then he pushed forwards, thundering down her gullet with a force that would have shredded the windpipe of an ordinary woman, but which to her simply registered as a delightful pressure.

The stallion held nothing back, repeatedly thrusting his turgid member into her mouth - and each time, her throat opened to welcome him. His swinging testicles would nearly hit her chin as each thrust bottomed out, stopping only when his groin bounced off of her forehead. Her tight throat embraced his shaft just as tightly as any pussy could, and he was enjoying every second of it. As was she. She didn't have any erogenous zones in her mouth or throat, perhaps, but that didn't stop her from taking a perverse pleasure in the violent face-fuck she was receiving. Somehow, being able to see up-close the huge cock thundering into one of her orifices made it even hotter. She made a mental note to have Blake do it to her like that more often.

She wasn't even conscious of the fact that her pussy was boiling over with thick juices, soaking through the delicate silk panties and making them cling so tightly to her labia, they might as well be painted on. The see-through fabric of her pants fared no better, and was soon visibly streaked with pussy-juice making its way towards the floor. If she hadn't needed both arms to steady herself against the stallion's powerful thrusts, one of her hands would likely have snuck down to provide some additional stimulation before she even realized it.

A minute later, she felt his cockhead flare deep inside her, stretching her flexible insides to the limit, creating a visible bulge just below and between her breasts. A couple of beats later, the torrent of hot horse-cum began, blasting directly into her stomach and quickly filling it. Then over-filling it. The stallion was blue-balled in the extreme, his sexual desires suppressed by enchantment that had been on him since he reached maturity - he had close to a decade of unvented rutting in him, and seemed to be trying to compensate for all of it in an instance. The result was a dragon-sized load, stretching Anitra's belly noticeably - her eyes also widened somewhat in surprise. No single creature outside of Blake had ever stretched her stomach like that - at least, not in a single load.

A few minutes later, after the deluge had ended and the flared cockhead softened somewhat, she started pulling herself back. The stallion overhead was standing still again, except for his legs shaking slightly from the exertion, so she had to do all the work herself. Inch after inch of still-hard shaft passed over her tongue before she finally reached the head and paused for a few seconds to lick as much of it as she could reach, cleaning off the layer of cum it had been coated in, savoring the strong taste. As the head finally plopped wetly out of her mouth, she let her jaw snap back into place without removing her lips from its smooth surface, sucking the last few drops of creamy jizz straight out of his urethra before finally breaking contact.

As she nimbly rolled out from under the stallion and got to her feet, she felt the Quickening begin to take hold. It was kind of low-key despite the huge quantity of sperm involved - the horse was, after all, just a horse; perfectly normal except for the enchantments placed on him, which didn't transfer anything to her. Ah well, she thought - it wasn't as if she desperately needed a power-boost right now. The 'battle' was basically over - and if the merchant was right, it was already won.

Looking over the dumbstruck faces of the crowd as she bowed sinuously before them, she could tell that he HAD, indeed, been right, and suppressed a flicker of annoyance at it. She had been quite embarrassed at her own ignorance when he had informed her that no, NORMAL women could not, in fact, breathe while deepthroating. Well, how WOULD she know? It wasn't as if she'd tried anything of the sort before becoming a DragonRider, and her knowledge of human anatomy was mostly limited to 'good places to stab if you want them dead'. The possibility that her transformation had somehow restructured her throat to enable her to breathe with her mouth full simply hadn't ever occurred to her. Idly, she wondered if the change had altered anything else within her that she was simply unaware of due to lack of comparison...

The merchant, meanwhile, snapped the crowd out of their daze. "There you have it, honored guests - I am sure that there are none amongst you who are still in doubt about just how extraordinary the slave before you is. Rest assured, other parts of her body are just as flexible - able to accommodate enormous girth, yet easily snapping back into shape afterwards. Rules of decency prevents me from arranging a demonstration of this, however, so you should consider it something worth personally investigating... should you win this auction. Do I hear 5000 Dinar?"

He did. He also heard other, rapidly-ascending numbers. Every last one of the nobles was bidding, individual rivalries and alliances thrown aside in the pursuit of the most astounding slave-girl any of them had ever seen. The bids swiftly climbed to ten times the initial before the enthusiasm slowed. From this, Anitra reasoned that 50.000 Dinar was a lot of money, even for the wealthiest nobles of a very wealthy city... beyond that, she had no idea. The currency of Mirage City wasn't used anywhere else, though some of the neighboring desert kingdoms claimed to have used it in the past, before turning to the near-universal Gold Coin used for trading on the entire continent and most of the islands.

Her brief reflection on the impact of continent-wide trading on local currencies was interrupted when an effeminate voice rose above the chorus. "200.000 Dinar, and the gratitude of the Palace." Everyone else fell silent as all attention focused on the back of the tent where Sadi sat, his presence forgotten by the nobles in the heat of the moment. He was, for once, not looking at them, either - instead, his sharp eyes were squarely fixed on the merchant, and his expression was one of annoyance.

The merchant looked around, seemingly unshaken by the number that had just silenced the crowd. "No greater bids? Then she is sold, to Chief Eunuch Sadi, and by extension, his Exalted Highness, The Immortal Sultan. I thank you all for participating in this exclusive auction and hope that you will enjoy whatever purchases you've made..." There were many sighs amongst the nobles as they got to their feet, gathered up their servants and 'purchases', and began to file out even as Sadi approached the stage with his guards in tow. Several sent despairing looks her way as they left the tent, realizing that they'd never see her again - unlike most of them, the Sultan wasn't known for 'showing off' his wives.

Sadi waited in front of the stage for the last of them to disappear, meanwhile clinically scanning her body in a detached manner she found mildly unpleasant. "Well, old friend, you've done it this time, I'll admit - you got the better of me..." he intoned when at last they were alone, moving his attention back to the merchant. "I HATE letting anyone get the better of me. It's bad for my reputation, and by extension, my health. My apparent infallibility is the only thing keeping my many enemies from attempting to have me quietly removed." His eyes panned back to her. "But I couldn't let something like this slide. She is far more extraordinary than any of the women currently residing in the Royal Harem. His Exalted Highness would never have forgiven me if one of the nobles had upstaged him like that."

He sighed, sounding even more feminine than usual in doing so. "Ah well. We had best get going. I'll send a well-guarded servant with your exorbitant fee - I trust my word is good for that?" The merchant smiled thinly - not the smile he used in normal negotiations, but the one he reserved for those who knew him too well. "Your word, worth 200.000 Dinar? Not hardly. Your reputation, on the other hand, is worth that and more, so I doubt you'll try to cheat me. Go ahead and take her." Sadi pursed his lips, eyes narrowing slightly. Then he nodded and gestured for one of his guards to move behind her. The merchant clucked his tongue. "Hah... come now, Sadi. Is that all you think of me? Expecting her to give you the slip and disappear as soon as the money's changed hands?" The green-robed eunuch shrugged. "I have high thoughts of you, my friend - you read people better than anyone else I've ever met. But I have a hard time imagining how you could have gotten your hands on merchandise this exclusive... and I can't help but suspect that there's a string attached somewhere." The merchant snorted in response. "You want to see a string? Then how about this: Once she's in the harem, she's YOUR responsibility. If she escapes from there, you can't hold me responsible. After all, YOU are the Keeper of the Harem..."

Sadi's eyes narrowed dangerously, and the guards seemed to tense in response. Then he giggled, and the tension was broken. "Quite true, old friend - quite true. But it would take a lot more than snake-like flexibility to escape from the Harem, assuming she'll even want to leave once she's there. Either way, you won this round. I hope you break your back carrying your ill-gotten gains back to the outside world." The insult was delivered in the tone of a compliment, and the merchant swiftly responded in kind. "I'll make sure to look you up next time I'm here. And may you mistake a poison for antidote during your next precautionary dosing." As she was escorted from the tent by the burly palace-guards, Anitra thought to herself that she was glad she'd gotten into adventuring instead of trading. Merchant's work seemed much too complicated.

Outside the city, in the glass den he had forged with his fiery breath, Blake sighed. He was laying on his back, starring up into the off-white sailcloth that made up the ceiling, and despite the best efforts of the slave-girl perched on his chest, he was bored.

In the days since Anitra had left to infiltrate the city, the tan-skinned slave-girl had faithfully served him with her mouth, providing numerous different kinds of oral pleasure without complaint. He'd expected her to balk at SOME of the things he asked of her, at least, but either Anitra's 'pep-talk' had worked even better than it had seemed, or the girl had already been through worse earlier in her enslavement.

In the past week, the girl had licked his arm-sized cock to the point of ejaculation at least once daily, and for the most part managed to swallow the better part of his loads - usually winding up with the rest covering her hair, face and boobs, which he thought looked mighty decorative. The frequent protein-loads also meant that she didn't have much of an impact on the food-supplies Anitra had left behind, so that was a plus.

Sadly, their other daily diversion didn't help save on water - quite the opposite, really. During the day, he couldn't risk going outside, since his black scales would make it all too easy for some alert sentry to spot him from the nearby walls of Mirage City. So when he started feeling some tension in his bladder, he'd call the girl into action. With her mouth clamped tightly around the tip of his cock, she'd drink down his sour piss to the last drop, which usually left her with a visibly stretched-out stomach. As a result, she usually had to make several excursions into the sand to relieve herself, every day and night, as her body gradually processed the gutful of piss - and that meant she had to drink more water to keep from getting dehydrated.

After he'd noted that serving him as an auxiliary bladder didn't cause any particular protestations, he'd soon taken it up to the next level, and assigned her to regularly clean his tail-hole with her tongue. This 'rimming', as it was apparently called, was a new kink to him, something Anitra had picked up on one of her 'adventures' and introduced him to. It was a surprisingly pleasurable feeling, though of course it required a remarkably submissive partner. The slave-girl had thrown herself into it without hesitation, repeatedly tonguing his ass with great enthusiasm - he couldn't help but feel that she must have tried it before, though probably on a less sizeable subject.

However, even when spending hours each day with her silk-soft tongue tirelessly caressing the edges of his tailhole - the girl certainly had stamina, he reflected - it still wasn't quite the same as properly getting off. And his daily blowjob-allotment was somewhat limited by the girl's ability to metabolize his thick cum - however eager she was to serve, her stomach obviously had its limits, and pushing past that would just result in making a mess of the den. A couple of times, he'd taken her outside at night to have her tongue him to a few orgasms, spraying his seed across the sands instead - but even though that helped, the fact was that he was getting tired of a 'diet' of nothing but blowjobs. His cock wanted more, and was showing it by taking longer and longer to coax to a climax... not that the girl was complaining about the added time spent licking up and down his cock.

But, alas, his patience was waning. He'd restrained himself from partaking in either of the girl's nether holes, because his experience told him that she wouldn't survive very long once he did - and he didn't know how long he'd have to wait for Anitra to return. Still, it was time to chance it, he decided - maybe she'd manage somehow, if she was as experienced as he by now suspected. "Enough. Get off of me." He barked, sending the girl tumbling down his smooth flank with an expression of fear on her face. With a grunt, he rolled over and got to his feet. "I think I've gotten enough use out of your pretty little mouth and tongue by now, girl. It's time I put the rest of your body to the test. Get on all fours, and spread your legs... REAL wide."

She swallowed visibly but immediately complied, placing her head on the rough glass floor while lifting her heart-shaped little ass as high up as she could while keeping her legs widely spread. He could hear the breath catch in her throat as he loomed over her, the petite body disappearing entirely in his shadow. He was hard as a rock and fully-erect thanks to her tonguing his cock for the last 20 minutes, but for much the same reason, his shaft was also covered in slippery saliva. The conditions were about as good as they were ever going to be.

With his neck craned to keep a close eye on his progress, he carefully aimed the cone-shaped tip of his cock at her pussy, and gently pushed forwards. The head came into contact with the outer labia, which parted easily as he pushed forwards, and he was equally surprised and delighted to feel a wetness covering the insides that wasn't just down to the spittle covering his own shaft. Either she was somehow getting off on this, or she was just THAT well-trained. Either way, it would make things easier - and more fun.

Most of the head was inside by the time he started encountering resistance. Clearly, she'd been stretched far in the past - just not THIS far. Still, he was actually starting to feel like she might just be able to handle it without bleeding out, so he wasn't about to stop now. Shifting his weight slightly, he planted his forelegs in front of her shoulders, closely enough together that she wouldn't be able to slip between. It was a bit awkward, but the floor was slick, and he needed to be sure that she didn't just slip away when he started pushing.

And then, he pushed - his enormous mass and draconic strength bearing down on the sensitive vulva of a young girl who - unlike his preferred lover - had no magical ability designed to accommodate it. As expected, the floor gave before her body, and she skidded a couple of inches across the rough surface before her shoulders collided with his iron-hard legs, and she stopped. The pain caused as her nipples were dragged across the sandpaper-like surface distracted her from the growing pain in her groin for several seconds, before it reasserted itself.

Because now, there was nowhere left for her body to go - either it would relent, or it would break. The force bearing down on her from behind would allow for no other options. She could feel her spine crackling under the pressure as the muscles surrounding her pussy stretched and screamed in protest. Dimly, she remembered her first time, back in her homeland, when she had been given - as a virgin sacrifice - to the Sacred Bull. It, too, had bored into her with an utterly animalistic lack of restraint, forcing her to accommodate it or die trying.

And she had accommodated it - and survived. A rare event indeed, one that had her marked as a Chosen Maiden of the Sacred Bull. Instead of dying, as she had been expected to, she got to live in the temple, wear fine clothes and eat fine foods - and all she had to do was lie on the altar every evening as the Sacred Bull mated with her. It got easier each time. Then the barbarians had come. They killed most of the priests, slaughtered and devoured the Sacred Bull, stole all of the temple's treasures, and took the young priestesses and temple-maidens as slaves - herself included. But even when she was sold and bought, chained and imprisoned, she found that what she had learned in the temple still applied. All she had to do was to obey, and let the man-beasts around her mate with her as they desired - then she got fine clothes and sometimes fine foods as well.

This time was no different, not really. She could feel his size behind her, and knew it intimately from all the time she'd spent with her hands, lips and tongue on it. It was bigger than anything she'd ever taken up there before - but not bigger than the Sacred Bull had been when she had first been mated to him as a child. Back then, she had stretched, and she had bled, but she had survived. She would do so again. With an exertion of will, she forced her vaginal muscles to seize their futile attempt to hold back the intruder, relaxing them and letting them stretch to the greatest extend they could. Then she put her hands on the scale-covered legs in front of her, and pushed back sharply.

With a sudden jolt, Blake's cockhead slipped inside, swiftly followed by five inches of slippery shaft. He blinked in surprise - the final push had not been his, but hers. Truly well-trained, then. There was blood dripping slowly from the tight seal of her overstretched pussy, but not much. And inside, he could feel the tightness squeeze down on him like a vice. She had, in fact, accommodated him - perhaps not without incident, but without being torn wide open as he had feared. Licking his lips, he pushed onwards. He knew he wouldn't be able to get it all inside - that would be ridiculous - but he wanted to see how MUCH he could get in.

A solid foot, as it turned out. By the time he stopped, the tip of his cockhead had pushed into her womb, forcing open the cervix with surprising ease - she had, apparently, been penetrated there before. Her breathing below him was labored, indicating that he was squeezing against her lungs - the visible bulging of her belly adding further evidence to that - but she was still alive and conscious, which was more than he'd expected. She also wasn't screaming, despite the multitude of minor tears on the inside of her sensitive pussy - he could feel them against his shaft, where the thin skin had been forced open to make room for him, baring the sensitive tissue beneath while oozing blood to add to the internal lubrication. It HAD to sting like hell, and he wasn't even moving yet.

A pulsing in his balls reminded him that he had more important things to do than admire her fortitude - namely, to fuck her silly. Repositioning his rear legs, he flexed his hindquarters and began to move. The abundant lubrication enabled him to do so easily despite the extreme tightness, and a good thing it was, too - he'd used up all of his patience while trying to penetrate her without tearing her open and as such was no longer in any mood to be gentle.

He pulled out most of the foot worth of cock he'd managed to insert, carefully leaving in only the head. The shaft was heavily marked by crimson blood, clearly visible against the veiny, light-red surface - but he'd seen worse, MUCH worse, during his earliest experiments with human women, and even then, it hadn't hampered his performance. With a flex of his huge haunches he thrust it all inside again, the tip violently colliding with her uterus, smashing her forwards into his forelegs again. She whimpered, quietly, but it didn't feel like anything had burst or broken. She was still holding up.

With that realization, the last vestiges of restraint vanished, and he began fucking in earnest. The girl's slender body was repeatedly shaken by the powerful thrusts, each using fully as much of the insertable length as was possible despite the rapidly-increasing pace. The intense pain brought tears to her eyes, and she dimly remembered, amidst the agony, that she had cried on her first time too, when the bull had mounted her... and never since. Until now.

Inside her pussy, muscles stretched and snapped, pulled beyond endurance by the continued rough treatment - redoubling the pain, but lessening the tightness as fewer muscle-fibers were left to try and keep the once-tight orifice together. New tears opened in the tissue itself, adding more blood to the already reddish lubrication, as well as allowing her birth-canal to stretch those few centimeters further. Unbeknownst to her, most of the tears now opening were actually the edges of old scar-tissue - a present from her first lover, the bull. It was thanks mainly to these old injuries that her pussy was now tearing in several small places, instead of just splitting apart entirely.

Either way, she was loosening up bit by bit, and Blake instinctively responded by fucking her even harder, even faster. Soon, he was pulling most of his cockhead out with each thrust, her overstretched labia barely having time to respond before they were pushed aside again. Even with the added friction this provided, each potent thrust still carried enough weight when it reached the end of the line to pound her uterus with bone-shaking force. The muscles guarding the mouth of the uterus were no more unbreakable than the rest of her insides, and they had been stretched far in the past - as was fast becoming the case with the rest of her pussy, many of the muscle-fibers had been torn, and failed to heal properly.

Five minutes later, Blake had gained an additional two inches of penetration without even noticing it. Five minutes after that, when at long last he felt the much-awaited climax boiling out of his balls and down his shaft, he'd gained another inch. By then, most of his cockhead was lodged inside her uterus when his thrust hit bottom, pushing it against the bone-hard muscle-tissue above. The entrance of the womb had been torn completely open, the muscular ring breaking in five different places. The resulting bleeding was severe, but not life-threatening, not that she was in any state to appreciate that. She was clinging to Blake's forelegs like a drowning man to a piece of driftwood, her breath coming in sharp gasps, eyes squeezed shut as tears of pain continued to run down her face.

However, when Blake's scalding-hot cum blasted out of the tip of his cock, further stretching her already-battered womb, her eyes flew open to stare unseeing up at his head, bobbing rhythmically above her as he emptied his straining balls into her. The cumload quickly overran her strained uterus and flowed back along the shaft, mixing with her blood before gushing out past her tightly-stretched labia as a thick, red foam. The pain was even more intense than before - her entire groin felt like it was on fire.

It almost was. Any dragon-slaying knight worth his salt knew that you had to avoid getting any of a dragon's blood into your own wounds, since the meeting of the two caused a violent reaction, creating scalding-hot temperatures. Most of them would not know that a dragon's CUM had the same effect. Blake, being essentially fireproof, didn't even notice as the temperature around his cock rose high enough to effectively cauterize the girl's internal injuries. This, at least, prevented any more blood from being added to the boiling chemical reaction, probably preventing her from dying on the spot from heatstroke.

She would probably have expired shortly after, anyway, from the accumulated injuries, burns, and heat-exhaustion - but seconds later, Blake pulled out, withdrawing his sated cock from the tight hole that had so efficiently milked it. Feeling satisfied and mellow, he saw the girl writhing in pain on the floor, blood and cum leaking from her still-open pussy, and felt a small sting of sympathy. Rather than ordering her to clean his blood-stained cock before he sheathed it, as he had planned, he spoke words of magic. A spell to cause a deep, pain-free magical sleep, while accelerating physical recovery - the closest thing to a healing-spell in his dark repertoire, and one he recalled using on a rather cute filly back in the land of the Horse-People. It was a suitable reward, he reasoned as he withdrew his still-stained cock into its sheath - she had, after all, managed to accommodate him better than he'd dared hope. And besides, he could still have her clean his cock - when she woke up in ten hours or so, at which point the mixture of dried cum, blood and sweat would undoubtedly have gotten a bit ripe. He grinned at the thought as he laid down, thoughts turning to Anitra and how she was doing with her infiltration...

Her infiltration, as it turned out, wasn't going quite as well as she'd hoped. Neither was her sex-life. She wasn't sure what, exactly, she had expected to happen once she was made part of the Sultan's harem, but being ignored definitely wasn't it. She'd been there for three days now, and hadn't even MET the sultan yet - she'd just been left in the harem with all the other girls, and nothing much to do. She didn't even see Sadi - except for the first morning, just after she had been 'introduced' to the rest of the wives. He'd come by and taken a hair from her head. She REALLY wanted to know what that was all about, but she was still playing the obedient slavegirl, so she couldn't really say anything. Either way, since then she'd been left entirely to her own devices.

That's not to say that she'd been celibate so far, though. The harem was, after all, quite large. 29 women - now 30 - and the Sultan asked only one or two to his bed each night. Many of the girls had found new ways to keep each other entertained, which was apparently something that the Sultan encouraged. For those who weren't interested in going in that direction, a large cache of 'toys' had been made available - masterfully crafted from gold, ivory, obsidian, marble and the like. Anitra had partaken liberally of both options, and the haremettes she'd entertained herself with were suitably impressed with the tricks she'd picked up back in the Forest of the Fairies. Not so impressed that they hadn't managed to teach her a few NEW tricks, though.

But while a bit of lesbian fun was entertaining now and again, it just didn't scratch that itch deep inside of her... and neither did the toys available, seeing as they were sized for ordinary women, not the 'snake-princess of the southern isles'. All in all, she was left unsatisfied by her sexual options as well as her investigative results - or lack of same.

In truth, she'd rather counted on winding up in the Sultan's private chambers on the first night - it was the most likely place to find the tablet-piece, she figured. The Sultan obviously had an interest in collecting the unusual and unique - seeing as he'd bought HER, and all - so the odd, indestructible tablet-piece would've likely piqued his curiosity. Besides, if he really WAS immortal like everyone seemed to believe, he might even have personally met Lutan. And from what she'd heard of the old adventurer so far, he had a way of leaving a lasting impression on people.

But between the boredom and the sexual frustrations, she was disinclined to just lounge around and wait to be escorted to the Sultan's private bedchamber. There was, after all, another likely place to look for the piece: The royal treasury. Which, from what she'd heard, was hidden inside the main palace somewhere, on the reasoning that secrecy was a better protection than any number of barred doors and armed guards. So, each night, she'd snuck out of the harem - easier than expected, seeing as the main defenses seemed designed to keep people OUT, not IN - and searched around for it. The entrance would no doubt be concealed by magic, but with a little luck, it'd be a weaker magnitude than the huge mirage concealing the city itself - in which case, her draconic eyes would be able to penetrate it.

So far, though, no luck. Of course, the palace was BIG - lots of hallways, rooms and towers to search, and she had no particular direction to go by. And since she wasn't supposed to be outside the harem - and didn't particularly blend into the background - she had to waste a lot of time hiding from guards and finding stealthy routes around populated areas. But at least it gave her something to do with her nights other than lie around and dream about dragon-sized dicks.

Finally, on the fourth day following her arrival, things changed. That evening, just when she'd started getting herself mentally prepared for another night of prowling the halls in search of something invisible, Sadi entered the harem and approached her. "His Exalted Majesty, The Immortal Sultan, has requested your presence in his bedroom tonight." He intoned, somewhat formally, in his melodious contralto voice. She resisted the urge to smile triumphantly, and simply bowed gracefully before following him into the palace.

The Sultan's room, as it turned out, was at the top of the castle's central tower, right beneath the great, onion-shaped dome. Unsurprisingly, it took up the entire floor and then some, with a large balcony extending into the night air, providing a breathtaking view of the city's lights below. Sadi escorted her through the door, bowed respectfully in the direction of the large, purple bed strewn with expensive-looking pillows in the middle of the room, and backed out of the room, closing the door behind him.

A white-clad arm rose from amidst the pillows and wordlessly gestured her closer. Complying, she finally found herself face-to-face with the sultan, nearly hidden amongst the mountain of pillows, sunk into them in a way that seemed at once eminently relaxed, and terribly bored. He was clad in simple, pearl-white garments, including an extremely straightforward white turban, only topped by a colorful feather and a single, deep-blue gemstone. The ensemble radiated an understated sense of style and quality that his noble subjects could learn a lot from. His face, meanwhile, was an enigma - it was certainly the face of a young man, rakishly handsome, brown-skinned and black-haired. But the expression, and the eyes, spoke a different tale - they told the story of an old, cynical man, who had seen far too much in his time to have any real faith left in humanity.

He spent a good minute calmly looking her up and down before he spoke. "My apologies for taking so long to meet you, my newest wife. My Chief Eunuch was being unusually paranoid, though I suppose that's one of the things I pay him for. He wanted to make absolutely sure that whatever it was that gives you your... unusual gifts, wasn't something that might hurt me. He's been slaving over his bottles and mixtures for the last three days. He STILL can't figure out what's up with you, but he's at least fairly certain that it isn't poisonous, which is good enough for me."

So that was what that hair was about. Sympathetic magic, analyzing it to analyze her. Well, nice of him to tell her that. She did her best 'inhumanly graceful' bow before replying 'in character'. "I live but to serve you, Your Highness - whenever it is convenient for you." The sultan chuckled. "How polite. Looking to cement your position, or perhaps rise higher?" The twinkle in his eyes made her nervous. Was he seeing straight through her with those old, old eyes? "Did you hear that, my dear? I think she may be gunning for your job..." He called over her shoulder, and she reflexively turned to see who he was addressing.

A startlingly beautiful girl had just entered the room from the balcony, flanked by a very large tiger. She was dressed in the same fashion as Anitra herself and the rest of the harem-girls, but somehow wore it in an altogether different way - rather than submissive, the clothes made her seem somewhat regal, and the hairband she was wearing - decorated with a blue jewel identical to the one in the sultan's turban - completed the look in a way that made her seem more queenly than any set of heavy state-robes or crown. The blue ensemble also accentuated her dark skin and deep, brown eyes beautifully.

Although momentarily caught off-guard, Anitra quickly put two and two together, and bowed to the woman - who was looking at her with an amused arch to her pretty little mouth - as well. "Certainly, our husband is joking, my lady. None but yourself could ever hope to aspire to the title of First Wife." The woman's eyes lightly scanned across Anitra's mostly-naked body before settling on her husband. "I can see what you mean, my dear. She's unusually smooth, even by the high standards you usually go for." Her gaze returned to Anitra. "Worry not, my dear girl. Far from a rival, I do believe that we will get along splendidly. For starters, I have heard that you, like myself, are a great lover of animals..." Her slender, brown fingers combed through the striped fur of the huge cat at her side in a familiar fashion which indicated to Anitra that the two were rarely apart.

The sultan suddenly clapped his hands. "Ah, yes! Good of you to remind me, my dear. I'd almost forgotten about the evening's entertainment!" He reached out from where he was laying and pulled an expensive-looking gold-and-silk robe that extended clear up to the ceiling. A melodious bell rang out and instants later, the main door opened to permit four servants to enter, carrying a large box covered by silken cloth on rods between them. Wordlessly, they deposited the box on the floor in front of the bed, bowed deeply in front of the Sultan, and filed out. Anitra gazed at the box with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. She could see a dim light beneath the cloth covering - that special light that others couldn't see, that told her of the presence of magic. And it was moving.

The blue-clad First Wife unhesitantly approached the box and - with a deft movement - pulled off the silk cover, revealing that it was no box at all, but rather a richly-appointed cage, containing the biggest snake Anitra had ever seen in her life. "Impressive, isn't he?" the sultan commented from the bed, propping himself up a bit higher in the pillows. "One of the crowns of my menagerie - a serpent large enough to eat a camel whole. Don't worry, though - I had the beastmaster put a control-enchantment on him, just for today." Gazing at the snake's colorful coils as they shifted inside the cage - which could barely contain it - Anitra decided that the bit about it eating a camel whole probably wasn't an exaggeration. Its body was wider than her own waist, nearly as wide as her shoulders. The sultan, apparently reading the impression it had made on her face, grinned. "I call him Jafar, after an old friend of mine. Dear, if you would?"

The First Wife nodded, mirroring her husband's grin, and opened the cage. The serpent had seemed big inside of it, but now that it slithered outside to rise to its full size, it seemed HUGE. She resisted a sudden urge to jump a few steps back and reach for her sword, not least because her sword was well out of her reach, safe with Blake back at their base. The sultan, apparently noticing her suppressed reaction, raised an eyebrow. "Surely, the Snake-Princess isn't afraid of him?" he asked mildly. Anitra, recovering her composure as quickly as she could, bowed in the direction of the snake in a manner similar to courtly behavior in her homeland - and quite different from the manner normally used in these parts, which the merchant had carefully drilled into her. Hopefully, the sultan wouldn't know the difference between two different kinds of 'foreignness'. "I was merely taken aback at the presence of a true Avatar of the Serpent Gods. Truly, I am blessed to be in his radiant presence." She carefully loaded her words with awe and religious fervor. Damn that merchant and his taste for theatrics - couldn't he have made her the priestess of a cult of dragon-worshippers instead, or something? She could've pulled that off much easier.

The sultan sighed, and leaned back in the pillows. "Of course you are. Well, then - what are you waiting for? Surely, you must be eager to offer your body to the chosen of your gods." She nodded, which wasn't quite in keeping with the character she was trying to play, but the movements of the huge snake were somewhat mesmerizing, and on top of that, she was torn between worry and horniness. On one hand, a huge snake like this would probably have an equally huge cock and after three days of frustration, she NEEDED a huge cock... that it would come from a reptilian just made it better - with those scales against her skin, she could pretend she was back with Blake.

On the other hand, she'd never had sex with a snake of any size before, and her cover-story claimed that she was the oversexed queen of a snake-worshipping tribe. Any kind of screw-up, or even just a bit too much awkwardness, and her cover would be blown. She wasn't sure exactly what would happen then, but she definitely wanted to avoid it if at all possible. Her best bet of finding the tablet-piece was to earn the Sultan's trust to the point where she could simply ASK him about it, without arousing suspicion.

With a conscious effort, she relaxed her joints and allowed the same sinuous, reptilian grace that had so impressed the audience at the auction to flow over her again. She let hips flow into the same hypnotic rhythm as the huge snake's head as she sauntered towards him, and she could feel the eyes of the royal couple on her back as their attention focused entirely on her. The snake seemed impressed too - something in his demeanor changed. Were her movements telling him that she was not prey, but peer? She could only hope.

He did not draw back from her touch as she reached him, and her fingers gently caressed his smooth, dry scales. They felt quite differently from Blake's in that sense - his scales were rough, overlapping each other in a rippled pattern except in a few areas where they were thinner and flatter, like around his eyes, his lips... his cock. But this snake was as smooth as marble, his scales so fine that they were indistinguishable from one contiguous whole. She longed to feel that smoothness against more than her hands.

She did not so much strip off her clothing as flow out of it, the light garments slipping off her skin like a molting snake's old hide. She leaned in to caress the serpent with her body, feeling the smooth, cool hide against her hot skin. The snake was not unaffected, and she felt more than saw something stirring beneath her. Her hands danced down his undulating flanks, to find the now-open gap in the smooth scale armor, feeling the soft, sensitive skin that was now revealed. It wasn't hot to the touch like most of her lovers' tools were - the snake was, after all, cold-blooded, and thus no warmer than the room itself. But, she realized with carefully-restrained surprised as her fingers caressed his turgid tool, he had something else that more than compensated for his lack of heat.

She wasn't sure what, exactly, she had expected from his dick. Maybe something like Blake's, but smaller - simple, smooth, to the point. But this was something else entirely. The texture was bumpy, like if it was covered in warts - presumably to create friction and thus prevent it from slipping out. Reminded her somewhat of the Umber Hulk she'd met back in Comorragh. On any other creature, that knobby surface would've been the most notable thing about the tool, but in this case, it came a distant second to the fact that there were two of them.

The bi-penis emerged from the same root, splitting into two shafts right as it left the serpent's armor, and the two heads were twitching in her hands in a way that indicated that they were each independently prehensile. She licked her suddenly-dry lips. She should be concerned about her cover - she didn't even know if this double-dong was a general trait of snakes in general, or unique to this gargantuan breed, and her reaction as the 'snake-princess' would be quite different in each case. And if it WAS a general serpentine trait, then she'd obviously be expected to know exactly how to deal with it. But thoughts of carefully-maintained cover-identities and doublethink were fast fleeing her mind as lust took over, accelerated by days of sexual frustration. What was important was that there was a large, double-ended dick rising between her legs, and that she NEEDED to get it inside her.

She slid swiftly down to her knees, caressing the serpent's erect body all the way, until she came face-to-dickhead with the cocks. She needed to lubricate at least one of them, and trying to get one into her by-now sopping-wet pussy and then switching it over to her rear hole would be far too awkward. Thus, without delay, she dove in, wrapping her soft lips around the rapidly-hardening knob-covered cockhead of the closest shaft. It was bigger than most humans, nearly the size of a small horsecock, though very differently in shape - there was no clearly pronounced head, and instead, the whole shaft was shaped like an oblong oval, tapering to a thinner point only right at the base. Either way, it easily fit down her throat as she inhaled the full length of it, the bumps along the shaft tickling her palate. The other shaft was splayed across her face, practically grinding right beneath her nose, and the musky scent of male was heady.

She sucked on it for a minute, enjoying the taste, letting her tongue caress the bumps. It was oh-so-tempting to keep going, to feel his cum spray down her throat, but her pussy was crying out for attention in an increasingly desperate way. With a sigh of regret, she released the shaft from the confines of her soft, yet tight throat, now thoroughly covered in her spit. With a smooth movement, she rose to her feet again, pushing her tender tits against her serpentine lover's smooth belly all the way. She looked up at his head, easily big enough to eat her whole, and saw that it was still swaying - albeit in a more jerky rhythm than before. His eyes peered down on her, half-closed behind his inner eyelids. Apparently, he'd enjoyed the blowjob.

His hard scales hissed against her skin as he rose higher, bringing his now-soaked tool up between her legs as she spread them invitingly. A gentle hand steered the two heads towards their targets - the wet one pushed back, the other drawn forwards. Her pussy was practically hanging open of its own accord, so eager was it for a firm, living cock to fill it, and as soon as the nubs on the snake's cockhead felt the moistness of the opening, the prehensile shaft dove in, burying half of its length inside of her in one stroke. She moaned, knees shaking in pleasure, but she held firm.

The other cock, however, was having a harder time of it. She sensitive head bounced off of her gently-rounded buttcheeks, leaving a trail of spit as it sought an orifice to hide in. Groaning impatiently, she reached back behind herself and pulled the cheeks apart, revealing the tiny rosebud of her anus between them. Tiny for a moment, that is, before she willfully relaxed her sphincter - combined with the external pull of her hand, her ass easily gaped open by an inch and a half, and the seeking cockhead found its mark, diving into the tight hole.

At that point, with both of his cockheads having found their mark, the great serpent jerked his body upwards, spearing Anitra on his hardened shafts as they disappeared to the root. Feeling the coolness of his scales touch her groin, she instinctively wrapped her arms around his undulating body, then lifted her feet from the ground to do the same with them, locking her ankles together on the other side of him - leaving most of her weight squarely on the cocks embedded inside of her. The snake hissed above her, and his movements grew more violent. The coils of the great serpent wrapped themselves around her, enfolding her in a full-body embrace as he began to move around her and inside of her.

Every thrust began as an undulation in the coils surrounding her, allowing her to follow it down to where their groins were merged, shivering in anticipation all the way. Her limbs, waist, chest and shoulders were all enfolded in his coils, and the serpent's constant movement ran smooth scales over her sensitive nipples, pressing in against her muscular belly, pulling her legs further apart, caressing every inch of her body. Only her head was left free, swaying in the air as the serpent moved, her breath coming heavily as her arousal rose towards its peak.

Dimly, she realized that the movements of the serpent had turned her clear around, giving her an excellent view of the royal bed. The Sultan was sitting on the edge of it, his pants around his ankles as the blue-clad girl bobbed her head up and down on his shaft, working it with the skill of a truly experienced master. If Anitra had been a bit more awake at that point, she'd have started taking mental notes to improve her own technique. As it was, she only barely had the presence of mind to notice the huge tiger standing over the girl, his striped haunches jerking in a practiced motion as he slowly fucked the Sultan's First Wife. For some reason, the fact that the Sultan was gently rubbing the big cat's neck while this was happening was the bit that stood out the most to her.

Then the movements of the snake carried her around again, removing the sordid display from her eyes, allowing her to focus fully on the pleasure she was experiencing. Both of her holes were stuffed with a cock that big enough to feel filling, but not quite big enough to be painful - and deliciously textured to boot. At the same time, she was being gently squeezed, massaged and caressed across more than 90% of her body, sending pleasurable sparks up through her spine from erogenous zones she didn't know she had. The strong, yet gentle embrace of the serpent ensured that she couldn't move a finger, even with her supernatural strength - there was nothing she could do, nothing she NEEDED to do, except to let the pleasure carry her away as the great serpent satiated his lust with her body.

And so she did, letting herself go, becoming little more than an overstimulated mass of writhing flesh as the pleasure overtook her, repeated orgasms assailing her battered braincells. She was vaguely aware of her tongue lolling out, drooling on the serpentine coils gently enfolding her neck, but it didn't seem important enough to try and do anything about it. The serpent came in her - once, twice, thrice - each time spurting a thick load of sperm into both of her holes. The Quickening came over her as her intestines absorbed the white sludge from her ass, and she felt herself become even more subtle, her joints and muscle taking on a rubbery feeling. She let herself move as her instincts would have it, her limbs tangling into the serpent's coils, pulling it closer around her, inviting it to continue even as the newly-strengthened muscles in her pussy and ass started to milk him with a hungry vigor.

They no longer felt like two creatures locked in an embrace, but rather like a single, continuous knot of limbs, coils, and writhing passion. Some surfaces were slick with sweat, others with smooth scales - it mattered little as they moved against one another, sliding over, under, through, against... neither one of them entirely aware of where each of them ended and the other began, their instincts alone spotting the path for them. Anitra thought no thoughts when the serpent's massive head lowered itself over her, as his forked tongue danced out across her lips. She simply opened her mouth hungrily, letting her own tongue slip out - suddenly longer and more agile than it had been before, after three thick loads of snake-cum - to curl around his. Their tongues tied together like the rest of their bodies, they drew each other into a deep, passionate kiss - one mouth hot and bordered by soft, fleshy lips, the other cool and ringed by smooth scales. It mattered not. They breathed each other's breath, tasted each other's spit as two sets of vertically-slitted pupils met in a lustful daze.

Their mouths remained locked together like that for the remaining duration of their lovemaking, as the serpent - roused to heights of passion he had never known in the wild - continued the dance of their interlocking instincts for another two hours. He came five more times, albeit in progressively smaller amounts - the Sultan had never been able to get his hands on a female of his kind, and so, he had been more than a little blueballed during his long stay in the Royal Menagerie. But even his accumulated vigor had its limits. Even though his foggy mind still longed to continue this intense mating with the strange, four-limbed female snake, his testicles - safely hidden inside his scales - were thoroughly drained and his smooth, strong muscles - which had choked the life out of prey far larger than himself - were at their limit.

Finally, their tongues untangled as he raised his head up high, gave a strange, humanlike sigh, and collapsed. His coils fell around Anitra like a cut rope, sliding off of her like water to pool around her feet as she instinctively extricated herself from the now-loosening knot of lust. As her mind slowly regained focus, she found herself standing - naked, and with not insignificant amounts of cum encrusted around her groin - in the midst of a now-asleep snake. Meanwhile, she was fully awake (her body, at least - her mind was still a few steps away from full wakefulness) and filled with energy, still metabolizing the last load that the serpent had shot into her ass.

Moving with an inhuman, serpentine grace that now seemed completely natural (where before it had taken a conscious, sustained effort), she turned around and flowed over the coils of her sleeping lover, her feet moving in a way that anyone with a working understanding of the human skeleton would've sworn up and down was impossible. The royal bed was now in view again, and she dimly remembered seeing some interesting things going on there earlier. By now, however, things had calmed down there - the huge tiger was sleeping like a kitten on one side of the bed, while the other half of it was occupied by the royal couple - both quite naked, and locked in a tight embrace. The girl seemed to be asleep too, but the Sultan was still awake, and staring at her with an inscrutable look in his eyes.

Her mind, gradually coming back on-line, suggested that she ought to do something right now, and without much thought, she bowed. Not as a human might, not even as she had done before, while deliberately trying to appear serpentine. This bow was the genuflection of a serpent, moving her entire body, taking advantage of the fact that her bones currently had the integrity of soft rubber. Her body flowed and rippled, more like a fluid than a solid. It was a sensation she was fast coming to enjoy, and her now-awake mind mourned the fact that it wouldn't last very long. Meanwhile, the Sultan's eyes widened noticeably at the sight, and she felt a surge of satisfaction. If he had been testing her, she was fairly sure that she'd passed with flying colors.

The Sultan returned the grandiose bow with a curt nod. "Well, you've certainly managed to impress me, my newest wife... I don't think I've ever seen Jafar quite so happy, or so... satisfied." He glanced at the serpent on the floor, then back to her, an impish grin on his face. It made him seem, for a moment, as young as his physical appearance - then his eyes took on that disconcerting 'oldness' again, and he reached out to pull one of the silken strings hanging next to his bed. The bell that rang in response was subtly different to the one that had summoned servants with the serpent, and the only immediate response was that the girl sleeping in his arms stirred, yawning as she pulled herself halfway upright. The tiger, however, continued to snooze with the kind of unconcerned ease that only a cat could manage.

The girl blinked her eyes tiredly a few times, mumbling something under her breath as her husband kissed the top of her head with a tender casualness that put Anitra in mind of old, old couples, comfortable in their well-worn love... which, of course, these two WERE, despite their apparent youth. The girl glanced across her, and at the snake on the floor (which would no doubt be snoring loudly, if such a thing was anatomically possible for a serpent), before glancing across the room at a large, richly-appointed hourglass that Anitra hadn't made note of before. The girl's shapely eyebrows rose sharply. "THAT long? And they JUST finished?" The Sultan nodded with a grin. "Indeed - it was quite the show. Well worth staying up for." She shot him a dirty look, and rolled over in the huge bed while grumbling something under her breath.

Then, the door opened, and Sadi the Eunuch entered, seemingly quite awake despite the late hour. He genuflected before his sultan with practiced ease and an elegance one would not expect of someone as pudgy as him, while his eyes lingered momentarily on Anitra's naked form. "You summoned me, Your Highness?" The Sultan nodded. "Yes... I've seen my newest wife in action, now, and I feel I must compliment you on your choice. She truly is every bit as extraordinary as you said - more than worthy of my harem." Sadi replied with another graceful bow, and an indecipherable smile spread across the sultan's youthful face. "Actually... I think this is cause to celebrate. Tell you what - once you've returned my new wife to the harem, why don't you swing by the treasure-chamber and pick up three of the golden goblets - you know, the gem-encrusted ones? I'm going to call down to the kitchen for a bottle of the finest vintage, and it deserves a properly gaudy vessel. And, of course, I insist that you join us!"

Sadi raised one well-plucked eyebrow at this, but immediately nodded. "It shall be as you command, Your Highness." He then glanced at Anitra, who suddenly became aware of the fact that she'd just been standing there, naked, instinctively swaying back and forth in a hypnotic, snakelike fashion for several minutes. Moving calmly to conceal her embarrassment - not at the nudity, but at having wasted time staring into space when she could've been looking around for signs of the tablet-piece - she sauntered over to where she had discarded her light, gossamer garments, and flowed back into them. She still wasn't all that comfortable with the local dress-code, and found the pants in particular to be awkward to get on, but in her present state, she found it easy to just coil herself into them, like a snake would coil into an earthenware jug.

As she followed Sadi from the royal bedchambers, through the cool, night-dark corridors of the palace, she considered the orders that the Sultan had given out... it was a golden opportunity, too good to pass up. Normally, she'd shy away from trying to shadow the dangerously alert eunuch, but The Quickening was still hot in her veins, and her solitary explorations had been futile - she had to try. And so, when Sadi locked her in the harem chambers - dark and quiet at this hour, as the rest of the wives had long-since sought their beds - she immediately flowed up the wall to the open passage underneath the ceiling, her favorite route for getting out of the harem unseen.

The open passages just below the domed ceiling were designed to cool the palace against the heat of the midday sun, and while a normal human would have found it all but impossible to reach them - the walls being mostly made from smooth marble with no handholds - Anitra wasn't normal even at the worst of times. With a serpentine quickening, it was even easier than it had been before, and from her perch atop the very wall that was supposed to keep her in, she watched Sadi turn his back at the Harem's locked door and wander back into the lightly-patrolled corridors of the palace.

She flowed after him, relishing in the newfound, serpentine smoothness of her own movements. The guards she passed were of no concern to her - in this darkness, the human eye sought movement, rather than shapes, and she wasn't moving as a living thing, but rather as the shadow of a gossamer sheet flapping in the midnight breeze. The smoothness of her motion made her one with the darkness as she flowed from one hiding-place to the next, always keeping Sadi in her sights, but never straying close enough to give him a chance to detect her. It was a beautiful night, she reflected as she pursued him past a second-floor walkway, open to the castle's central courtyard. The stars twinkled brightly outside, clear in the dry desert air, and the moon was but a thin, silvery sickle - providing just enough flittering shadows to distract the eyes of the guards, without creating so much light as to threaten her concealment. The night was quiet except for the ghostly sound of the breeze playing through the gossamer curtains hung everywhere, and the occasional shuffle and yawn of a sleepy guard.

Finally, Sadi stopped, in front of an unadorned wall identical to every other corridor-wall in the castle, and looked around guardedly. He didn't see her, however, and with good reason. She'd sensed his apprehension as he neared his goal, and taken extra precautions. At the moment, she was curled around the top of one of the potted palm-trees that dotted the corridors, concealed amongst the broad leaves. The ease with which she'd climbed the smooth trunk, curling her entire body around it, had surprised even her. But the important thing was that it worked - even when Sadi looked right at her, all he saw was a potted palm-tree, leaves swaying ever-so-slightly in the breeze.

Then, as her eyes narrowed to penetrate the darkness to catch every detail, his hands drew a complex symbol on the unadorned marble wall using several swift, smooth strokes. With a final flick of the wrist, he finished, and for a moment the symbol glowed red on the white marble. Then the wall parted with a quiet hum, the wall sliding into itself to reveal a room behind it. The angles involved prevented her from seeing what was inside, but she had a pretty good idea, and she was fairly certain that she could remember the movements that Sadi had used to open it.

The hidden door slid closed behind him as he entered, only to open again half a minute later as the eunuch reemerged with three richly-decorated golden goblets in his slender hands. He glanced around again, but she hadn't moved from her hiding-place and so remained undetected as he turned around and walked deeper into the palace, towards the royal bedchambers. Then, with him safely out of sight and no guards around, she slid down the tree that had concealed her and approached the wall. It took but a moment's concentration to recall the exact motions that served as the key to this hidden door, and within seconds, it hummed open for her as it had for him.

Inside, she found a treasure that would take the breath away from any adventurer. Piles of gold and silver flowed across the floor, spilling out of richly decorated chests and coffers, mixed with gemstones of every color. Shelves along the walls held objects of art and sets of matched treasure - including what seemed to be a full dining-set for 12 hopelessly opulent individuals, featuring golden dinner-plates, diamond-studded glass carafes, platinum utensils and a line of gem-encrusted goblets of which 3 were noticeably missing.

Her eyes danced across untold riches, taking them in. Ceremonial (and useless) armor made from gold and silver, curved swords of ensorcelled steel whose handles and sheathes were slathered liberally with precious metals and gems, crowns and diadems heavy with value and history... all polished to a mirror sheen, sparkling in the magical light emitted by several glow-globes hanging from the walls at even spaces. Even the glow-holders were covered in intricate gold filigree. She licked her suddenly-dry lips. The piles of treasure were rousing deep-seated draconic instincts within her, and she had to restrain a sudden impulse to drape herself across the gold and gems to take a nice, long nap.

She had more important things to do, dammit! Annoyed with herself, she focused and let her eyes scan across the gleaming hoard. It shouldn't be hard to spot something like the tablet-piece - everything in here was shiny, so the dull clay should stand out as a black spot, even if the prevalence of enchantments in here prevented her from trying to spot the preservative magicks surrounding it.

But there was nothing. She grimaced. Everything in the room had intrinsic value - a magical oddity or souvenir like the tablet-piece would be entirely out of place. If the Sultan DID have it, it was obviously somewhere else. Well, at least now she knew where it WASN'T. With a regretful shrug, she turned to leave the treasure-filled chamber - and froze. The door behind her was gone, having hummed shut without her even noticing it as she was hypnotized by the wealth of the chamber. A sneaking suspicion filled her, but she carefully kept her calm as she approached the point where she knew the door should be, and drew the same symbol upon it that had enabled her to get in. Nothing happened.

She gritted her teeth. It all made sense now. Even if some thief managed to find his way inside this chamber - say, by spying on someone opening it - he'd only find himself trapped there, unaware of the secret to opening the door from the inside. But she was in luck. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she moved to the wall next to the place where she knew the door was, pressing her back up against the cool marble, and relaxing. She let her breathing become slow and shallow, relaxing every muscle she could as she slowed her heartbeat. Then, she waited.

Just over an hour later, Sadi returned to put the golden goblets back in their place, as she'd known he would. And as she had hoped, his peripheral vision failed to recognize her as he passed next to her, her presence all but erased as she stood motionless, barely breathing. Then he was past her, and she quickly slid out through the still-open door, her softly-clothed feet making no sound against the marble floor. It was almost morning outside, she noted as she sought what shadows remained and began to make her way swiftly back towards the harem. The quickening had worn off by now, but in these early hours of the morning, the guards were at their least alert, so despite no longer possessing her previous serpentine grace she easily slipped past several yawning, half-asleep sentinels.

She scaled the walls of the harem without incident and quickly sought her bed, knowing that it wouldn't be long before some of the early risers amongst her fellow wives would stir. She was tiring fast, now, without the buoyancy of the Quickening keeping her up and the need for sleep was quickly battling its way past her annoyance at wasting most of the night. Well, it wasn't ALL bad, she admitted to herself as she sank deeper into the pillow. She could narrow the scope of her search now. Someone like the Sultan, so obviously interested in gathering the rare and unusual, HAD to have a collection of oddities and knick-knacks somewhere. It wasn't in the palace's treasure-chamber, so it had to be somewhere else - probably in his royal chambers. Which she rather suspected she'd soon be invited back to, after the performance she'd put in earlier that night. So really, the night had been far from wasted, she thought as she let the long-awaited sleep embrace her.

Anitra didn't stir from her slumber 'till it was nearly noon the next day. The other wives let her sleep in, perhaps guessing that she was exhausted after her first meeting with their husband - which, granted, wasn't ENTIRELY wrong. When she finally got back on her feet, she stalked grouchily to the large bath that the harem-girls all shared, and washed off the dried sweat and cum from the night before. Afterwards, she was feeling MOSTLY alive, and hungry as a wolf - just in time for lunch. The food in the harem was both delicious and plentiful - one of the better points of her current undercover status, she thought as she took her seat at the long, short-legged table decked with a multitude of local dishes, most of them cold, surrounded by a sea of throw-pillows on which the many wives sat and gossiped while daintily eating.

Anitra was well aware that she ate twice as much as any of the other girls even on a normal day, and studiously ignored the acidic glares that her perceived gluttony drew. She also didn't exactly eat 'daintily'. But that was fine, she reasoned - she was, after all, supposed to be the queen of a faraway barbarian tribe, so a certain lack of table-manners would only be expected. Today, of course, was even worse than usual, with her stomach rumbling loudly as soon at the table was set, and the other girls had barely gotten seated when she started digging in.

Focused on filling her empty stomach, she didn't notice Sadi's approach until he delicately cleared his throat right behind her. Trying her best to hide her shock and consternation at the fact that she'd let him sneak up on her like that, she put her plate down, half-eaten fish-roll and all, and swiveled on the smooth satin of the pillow to face him. "Is something the matter, Chief Eunuch?" She kept her voice carefully level, hoping that he wasn't about to complain about her table-manners. The bald-headed man sighed and rolled his eyes. "I DO regret interrupting your lunch with your fellow wives, but the Sultan has requested your presence at his own table. You can... finish your fish-roll first, if you want to."

Whispers erupted around the table as glances of disdain turned into surprise. From what Anitra had gathered, the Sultan always ate lunch with his First Wife and no-one else. For him to invite another wife, particularly a new arrival, was unheard of. She must have made even more of an impression on him the night before than she'd thought. Still, it was important that she didn't get ahead of herself. With forced casualness, she picked up the rest of her fish-roll and swallowed it in one bite before sliding to her feet with carefully-maintained serpentine elegance. "Let us not keep His Highness waiting." Sadi sniffed, shrugged, and then nodded, leading the way out of the harem and back towards the Sultan's personal chambers.

Upon entering the royal bedroom, which apparently also doubled as a dining-room, Sadi gave a perfunctory bow in the direction of the Sultan, and immediately backed out, closing the door behind him. There was something odd about the eunuch's behavior that she couldn't quite put her finger on, but her 'husbands' voice refocused her attention before she could contemplate it further. "Ah, my dear, so good of you to join me. Please, have a seat." The Sultan was wearing the same simple, ivory-white suit he'd worn the previous night and was seated on a rich brocade pillow behind a long table of intricately-carved ebony wood. The table was nearly as long as the one down in the harem-quarters and just as heavily decked with a rainbow's variety of dishes and drinks - even though the Sultan was the only one sitting there.

She glided over to the satin pillow he'd gestured at when making his invitation, directly across the table from him, and sat down. The sultan was already eating - a well-spiced roast duck by the smell of it - and didn't seem concerned with stopping on her account. No sooner had she sat down than he waved his hands at the cornucopia on the table. "Don't hold back on my account, my dear - eat to your heart's content. I swear, there's enough food here to feed half my army." Her stomach was still far from satisfied, and she eagerly dug into the food and drink, finding it to be only slightly more delicious than the usual fare in the harem - which spoke well for her 'husband', in her opinion.

He finished his roast duck while she started eating and leaned back for a bit, eyes lazily scanning the table as if he was trying to decide what to eat next. "I'm glad you could join me..." he said casually. "My First Wife is still in bed - she decided to sleep in after staying up so late last night, and I DO so hate eating alone." She glanced up from the salad she'd just taken a mouthful of, and after deciding that it was probably marginally less rude than trying to talk with her mouth full, she simply nodded in response. Well, the Sultan seemed to have gone to some lengths to make this a 'casual' sort of setting and it wouldn't do to disappoint him. "By the way, I didn't catch your name last night... or rather, I suppose I forgot to ask. Terribly rude of me, come to think of it." He continued, in an urbane tone of voice, and she quickly swallowed the rest of her salad. She hadn't come up with a cover-name, but then, there was no need for one. Her real name wasn't going to raise any suspicions. "I am known to my people as Anitra, Your Highness." He nodded. "Anitra... a truly exotic name. And beautiful, too. Ah, but drop the 'highness'. We are, after all, husband and wife - no need for titles between us." She replied with a smooth half-bow. "As you wish, my husband."

The rest of the meal took place mostly in silence, and she could feel him looking at her during most of it. Well, it was to be expected - she was eating easily twice as much as him, despite having already started on another meal before climbing the stairs to this place. She, meanwhile, let her eyes scan casually across the chamber itself, taking the opportunity for all it was worth. The chamber was huge, but surprisingly sparsely appointed. The huge bed was the centerpiece, of course, but other than that (and the table they were now eating from) the only things of particular note was a huge hourglass - easily as tall as two men and richly decorated - standing in one side of the oval chamber, and a what looked like a mirror and makeup-table on the other side. That, presumably, belonged to the First Wife.

Certainly, there was no sign of a bric-a-brac collection, but two small, yet ornate doors were visible in either end of the chamber. Those, she reasoned, would lead into smaller, more personal chambers. Presumably, the first wife was snoozing behind one of them... could the treasure she sought be behind the other? Maybe if she got a chance to join the Sultan on the big bed herself, she'd get a chance to find out... the previous night, both the First Wife and her tiger had passed out fairly quickly, and she felt confident that she could ride her 'husband' into unconsciousness if she got the chance. Which would give her the run of the royal chambers while they all snoozed...

Her planning was interrupted when a sudden, pointed question flew across the table at her. "Just what are you after?" The Sultan's casual tone of voice was gone, replaced by a sharpness that set alarm-bells off in her mind, causing her attention to instantly focus on him. He, too, was entirely focused on her, his inhumanly wise eyes digging into her, and she suddenly realized that the casual way he was leaning back on his pillow was a ruse - his muscles were tensed, ready to let him leap to his feet in a split second if necessary. What was going on?

Letting her confusion show, she put on an innocent face and replied. "After? Whatever are you talking about, my husband? I am merely here to serve you." The Sultan gave a wry grunt and sneered at her. "Don't play games with me, little lady. I can smell an adventurer from a mile away. I knew from the moment you set foot in my palace that you were no submissive harem-girl, whatever appearances you might put on. And your nightly scouting-trips confirmed it. I'll admit that your display last night impressed me... but that merely means that you're carrying some really heavy-duty enchantments with you, as any good adventurer would when forced to leave weapons and armor behind."

She struggled to come up with a good reply, but he didn't wait for her. "I figured you were a thief, at first. The wealth of my city, and my treasury, are well-known. So last night, I threw you some bait... I knew you'd track Sadi to the treasure-chamber, and though you impressed me once again - the man is more sharp-eyed than any hawk and yet you still managed to avoid being noticed by him - but I KNOW that you entered the chamber. There's an enchantment on it that warns me whenever anyone other than myself enter it, and it told me that two different people came by that night. You got into the treasury, AND back out - but not even a single coin is missing from it."

His eyes burned into her as he leaned forwards, one hand creeping towards his waistband - or, more likely, something hidden there. "So... if you are no thief, then what are you? An assassin, perhaps, come not for my wealth but for my life?" Anitra was starting to sweat. Things were turning ugly, fast. She was unarmed and unarmored, unable to contact Blake for backup, and her last Quickening was long gone. She MIGHT be able to overpower the Sultan if she moved quickly, depending on what, exactly, he was reaching for, but she had no illusions about her ability to fight her way back out of the palace with his blood on her hands. It was time for desperate measures.

Taking a deep breath, she leaned back on her pillow and sighed. "Fine, fine, you found me out - relax, already. I'm no assassin. If I WAS, then why would I bother taking the risks inherent in exploring your treasure-chamber? You were right the first time - I AM a thief." The Sultan's intense stare suddenly broke down into a roguish grin. "Yes, I figured as much. I also figured that the easiest way to make you drop the act was to accuse you of something WORSE than stealing. So what went wrong? The one-way door caught you by surprise, and you figured you wouldn't be able to sneak out past Sadi's back if you were carrying anything too jingly?"

She couldn't hide a look of consternation. He'd played her. This guy was dangerous... she shouldn't have underestimated him like that. A few thousand years worth of experience, surrounded by politicians, nobles and courtiers, would naturally give a man a frighteningly complete knowledge of every form of deceit, deception and manipulation. She sighed. "Yeah, that door WAS a nasty surprise, but that wasn't why I left empty-handed. If I'd really been after the contents of that room, I'd just have ambushed Sadi when he came back in, and used him to jam open the door while I gathered up all the gold I could carry."

The Sultan laughed in response. "Hah! Sadi the doorstopper. I have to remember to tell him that next time we talk. As if I didn't have enough to tease him about, what with the way you snuck around behind his back like a shadow." His voice turned serious again. "But if you aren't after my wealth, OR my life... then I must restate my original question: Just what ARE you after. Come, now - I'm a curious sort, and neither one of us are getting any younger." She snorted in reply. "Neither one of us are getting any older, either. At least not anytime soon. But fine, since you saw through me like that, I suppose I might as well tell you... after all, the thing I'm after isn't likely to be particularly valuable to YOU..."

She quickly described the tablet-piece - not that there was much to describe. Small, dull, unknown writings, preserved by powerful magic. He nodded in recognition. "Mostly worthless to me, but valuable enough to YOU to go to some very impressive lengths to get in here, eh? Perhaps it is actually quite valuable if you can get ALL the fragments, hmm?" His eyes twinkled mischievously, and she bit off a curse. He laughed again. "Oh, don't be like that - I've been around the block a few times, I know how this stuff works. But you're still right, I suppose. I only have ONE fragment, which has no intrinsic value, and even if I could get them all it might not even be good for anything to ME... after all, things like wealth, power and magical might that most adventurers long for, I already have to excess."

He rocked back and forth a few times, seemingly thinking, then fixed her with a sharp glance. "But just how did you know that I had it? I remember it, all right - a curiosity, a souvenir, that I picked up a couple of thousand years ago... and it's been metaphorically and literally gathering dust in the back of my closet ever since. It's hardly a major conversation-piece, and I can't imagine anyone I've even mentioned it to still being alive." Now it was Anitra's turn to grin. "Well, I've been around the block a few times too, and I know how these things work... I knew that the fragment had been left in this city and from experience, I guessed that it was far more likely to be in your hands, than gathering dust in a curio-store somewhere." He snorted. "Well, now. Guess you're a properly experienced adventurer, at that."

He then sighed and leaned back to glance up at the ceiling. "Still, it IS a pleasant souvenir... and I hate to lessen my collection, however pointless it may be. But on the other hand, I know a thing or two about adventurers... you don't give up. If I tell you to forget about it, you'll just come up with another way to get it, now that I've inadvertently confirmed that it's in my keeping. If I call the guards on you, you'll probably escape from them somehow, and come back for revenge with a side-order of treasure. Adventurers tend to be resourceful like that and what I've seen of you so far indicates that you're even more so than most."

He glanced back at her, and now there was a naughty glimmer in his eyes. "Tell you what... I'll set three tasks before you, and if you can handle them all, I'll give you the fragment you want. The entertainment-value of watching you take on my trials - and coming up with some that are worthy of you - should make up for the loss of an old memory or two." She lifted an eyebrow in response. "Do you suppose that those tasks might be of a sexual nature... 'my husband'?" He grinned like an urchin, and shrugged innocently. "Well, I dunno... I suppose it's POSSIBLE that SOME of them MIGHT be..." She gave an exasperated sigh. "Fine, fine, I've danced that dance before. I'll take on your 'tasks'. Just don't forget your promise afterwards. You know how we adventurers are about people who stiff us on payment." He raised his hands disarmingly. "No worries, I wouldn't want to provoke an experienced adventurer like you without good cause. Now, how 'bout you head on back to the harem and rest up for a bit... I need to start preparing the first task. Should be ready in time for sunset..."

And so, hours later, as the desert sun began to sink beneath the horizon, and the sky exploded in brilliant colors of orange and purple, she was led from the harem to a place she hadn't visited before. It was a small garden, far less opulent than the palace's central garden out front, sandwiched between the back wall of the palace and the main city walls. It was simple but well-maintained, and empty except for a small silk pavilion that had been erected near the back wall. The sultan sat in its shade, along with his First Wife and her pet tiger. Sadi had been her escort again, and he withdrew without a word after delivering her - she sensed that he rather disapproved of the way his lord was handling her. Or maybe he was just sore about being unable to detect her last night even though he'd KNOWN that she was almost certainly following him.

The sultan nodded pleasantly and beckoned her closer to the pavilion, and as she approached he grinned up at her. "Well, your first task is ready... I think this will show me just how much you REALLY want that fragment." Anitra's face twitched. What had he come up with? He gestured imperiously with one hand, and she noticed that he was wearing a large ruby ring on it. The ruby glowed with a strong inner light, indicating a potent enchantment.

Behind her, a gate opened quietly - it was a different one than she had come through, and the one who came out of it was quite different too. It was a camel, one of the two-humped beasts of burden that were used throughout the desert kingdoms. They lacked the elegance of a horse, but were well-adapted for the desert, and thus nearly omnipresent in dry lands throughout the continent. "The humble camel!" The sultan intoned dramatically. "Since time immemorial, he has faithfully carried men and goods throughout the great expanse of this parched desert. Sturdy and reliable, he goes where no other beasts can or will, carrying his load without complaint. The people of the coastlands call them the Ships of the Desert, and truly they are as vital to our commerce - and survival - as ships are to those who make their living at the sea."

He gave an exaggerated sigh. "And yet... despite this... he gets little respect. Rather than honor him for his unsurpassed contribution to our prosperity, he is mocked as stubborn, ugly, smelly and unclean. Really, I am embarrassed that my subjects cannot see past such shallow concerns." As the camel approached her, his hooves clicking on the marbled paths, she had to agree on the 'smelly and unclean' parts, at least. The camel didn't look like it had been groomed in a dog's age, and the stench of unwashed wool wafted across the garden on the evening breeze, drowning out the flowery scents. Back at the pavilion, the large tiger sneezed, and buried his face in the pillows.

A dim, magical aura hung around the beast's head and when she narrowed her eyes, Anitra could see near-invisible strings running from that, to the ring on the Sultan's hand. So... it was under a control-spell, much like the snake last night, but this time the Sultan had chosen to puppeteer events directly.

Unconcerned with her perceptions, the Sultan continued. "So, I have brought this proud fellow here tonight to... somewhat rectify this grave oversight. And how better to make up for these long years of thankless service, than to share one of my wives with him? This evening, your task will be to give him a real 'royal treatment', in every way. Perhaps start with cleaning him up a bit..." The sultan made a big show of looking around the garden, then rubbed his short, well-groomed beard. "Huh. It seems I forgot to arrange for any cleaning-implements, or even some water. Well, I'm sure you'll figure something out, being such a resourceful woman."

Anitra grimaced, facing the smelly beast. She knew perfectly well what the Sultan wanted... well, the merchant HAD warned her that the guy was into some fairly dirty things, and purchased slavegirls mostly because most of his wives were the daughters of noblemen and wealthy merchants, who might be less than pleased if their daughters were pushed into such things. So now, he was taking advantage of these 'tasks' to make HER get down and dirty for his amusement. Well, it wasn't as if she hadn't done some fairly nasty things with her mouth before. Just... never on an animal that was quite this dirty and smelly.

With a sigh, she sauntered towards the camel - who had now stopped on a patch of grass in the middle of the garden - discarding her clothes as she went. Upon reaching him, she quickly dove down beneath his wool-covered flanks to find out what she was in for. The sights - and smells - were even worse down there. The short, curly wool was thick with sweat, and the groin-area she was already sliding towards had a thick stench of old piss about it. Between what her senses could tell her, and the generally dry conditions of this region, it seemed more than passingly likely that this camel had literally never been washed or bathed in any way. Flies buzzed around his humps, crawling through the thickly knotted wool along with other, smaller parasites. She desperately hoped that she wouldn't catch a case of fleas from him.

Focusing on the matter at hand, she noted that his cock was still sheathed - mostly. She could see the cockhead, barely peeking out of the triangular opening of its thick-skinned fortress. It was slanted and leaf-shaped, almost like an upside-down heart - and not particularly wide, either. About as far across as a decently-hung human, which made him rather small when compared to his body-size. Not that his size was her main worry. Still, the fact that the head was out indicated that the control-enchantment on him was being used to feed him a bit of lust - a helping hand for her. But she'd still have to do most of the work herself.

Either way, it was time to get it over with. Wrinkling her nose she leaned in and ran her tongue over the opening of the sheath, caressing the cockhead as it peaked out from there, feeling it twitch slightly at the touch. The taste was as bad as she'd feared - years worth of encrusted piss-drops and dried-up leftover juices from whatever hump-backed ladyfriends he'd gotten lucky with in the past. Nonetheless, she carried on, running her tongue along the underside of the sheath where the lack of thick wool had at least kept the flies from setting up shop. That route, of course, led her to the fist-sized, dangling testicles in their wrinkled sack, and her soft tongue was soon cleaning layers of accumulated ball-sweat and trail-dust off of their surface while gently caressing them with feather-light kisses.

Even the part of her that generally enjoyed dirty deeds and humiliation - the side of her that had learned to find pleasure in being used as a toilet or cleaning out her lover's asshole with her tongue - was shying away from what she was now forced to do. The smell of unwashed animal and stale sweat was overwhelming, and her tongue felt like she'd used it to clean the bottom of a birdcage. She felt bile rise in her throat, and only forced it down with an exertion of will.

But strangely, another side of her personality came to her rescue. Namely her more-human, less-dragon side, which usually clocked in with inconvenient, human emotions like empathy, embarrassment and shame. But this time, the shame was directed inwards. The session with the huge snake last night had been the most passionate, intense sex she'd ever had... with anyone other than her beloved Blake, that is. While her draconic side knew that jealousy simply wasn't part of a dragon's mental makeup, her human side felt like she'd cheated on him. While he was languishing in a sandy cavern, barely able to stretch his wings, with only a human slavegirl for company (who, she knew, was unlikely to survive their first mating) - she had been enjoying herself in a glorious palace, eating delicious dishes with good drinks on the side, and having superb, endlessly-orgasm-inducing sex with a serpent besides.

But now, well... at least she could honestly say that her stay in the palace hadn't been altogether pleasant. Being put through this disgusting trial somehow exonerated her guilt at the pleasure she'd enjoyed the day before. The feeling that she somehow DESERVED the headache-inducing stench, the nausea and the taste of mud in her mouth pushed aside her reservations, and enabled her to continue in her task without further hesitation. Of course, she rather NEEDED that steeled spirit for what she knew came next.

The ballsack was clean, now - dripping with her spit, actually shiny in the light of the sinking sun. And a couple of inches worth of his cock had emerged from the sheath in response. But there was still one more thing to do before she could return her attention to that pale-red shaft. Trying her best not to let the disgust she felt show on her face, she kissed her way further back from the ballsack, up the central ripple in the short wool. Every time her lips touched it, the taste of sweat and dirt washed over her again, but she knew it was only a small taste - literally - of what was to come.

The camel's asshole, underneath the short, whipping tail, smelled like an open sewer. Which made sense, really. But it had to be done. With an effort of sheer will, she pushed her churning stomach to the back of her mind, and dug in. Her tongue flicked around the rim of the dirt-brown hole, caressing the edges before drilling into the center. It parted easily before the clenched muscled of her tongue, and she found herself licking around the inside of the foul-smelling hole even as she leaned further forwards to encircle it completely with her lips, kissing it as she would a lover.

It was, without a doubt, the most disgusting thing she'd ever tasted, and with her nose now buried directly in the dirty wool directly above the hole the stench had also gotten even worse - something she would have previously sworn was impossible. On top of that, the tail swatted painfully across her forehead every few seconds. But nonetheless, she continued with gusto - now that she had come this far, she did not want to leave the Sultan any reason to cast aspersions on her efforts. Her technique was certainly hard to fault - her lips and tongue vibrated as she worked the smelly orifice over in a manner similar to a vigorous makeout-session, creating obscene, slurpy noises that carried quite clearly across the quiet garden.

Well, it wasn't as if she didn't have plenty of experience with it, anyway, so she SHOULD be quite good at it, she reflected. Neverminding the things she'd done during that drugged-up orgy on the Island of the Amazons, she had also introduced Blake to the pleasures of a good 'rimjob' shortly before then - and seeing him enjoy it immensely even when he WASN'T drugged to the gills on obscure jungle flora had motivated her to sharpen her skills at it. Especially since a good rimming tended to make him even more vigorous at the subsequent lovemaking. It had been a long flight from the archipelagos of the southern seas to this desert kingdom of the east and whenever they'd stopped for some food, drink, and a quick fuck, her tongue had found its way to his tail-hole to get him properly warmed up. That this camel was now harvesting the fruits of that particular labor of love annoyed her, but if it got her the tablet-fragment she needed, that made it time well spent twice over.

That train of thought blessedly distracted her as she continued to thoroughly clean out the camel's rear hole and by now, her tongue had gone numb to the taste - she could almost pretend that it was Blake she was working on, instead of a decidedly unwashed camel. With this mental image held firmly in her mind, she finished the job with a flourish, pushing her face into the camel's ass to let her tongue spear as deeply as it could, before rotating it to catch the entire internal surface as she pulled it back out with a slurp. The previously dirty hole was now gleaming with spit, almost disturbingly clean. She tried hard not to think about where all the gunk that had been encrusted around it when she first saw it had gone, lest she lose control of her stomach after all.

Satisfied that she'd done as good a job as possible at the nausea-inducing rimjob, she ducked back underneath the camel's vaulted stomach to see what reaction she had teased from the beast. What she found took her aback, nearly making her stumble as she sank to her knees. It was fully-erect, all right - all the way out of its sheathe. It was also LONG - heck, it was longer than most HORSES she's encountered. Nearly a meter of pulsing, rock-hard, light-red shaft, reaching almost to the camel's FORELEGS. It still wasn't any thicker than before, but the length alone was enough to make her sit up and take notice. Then, glancing across the shaft, she noticed a 'fold' halfway up the shaft, where the tender skin got darker and thicker. It reminded her of the ring of thickened skin near the base of a horsecock. And then, it suddenly made sense. Most of that incredible length was just there to enable the camel to reach his lover's pussy across the significant distance that would, by necessity, separate them. Mounting a girl with a huge pair of humps on her back WOULD be a damn sight more awkward than what a stallion or a dog had to deal with, and this long, thin tool was designed to overcome that.

But, of course, SHE didn't have humps. At least, not on her back. She considered how she would handle it as she leaned in and began licking up and down the shaft - which, despite being covered by the strong taste of sheath-sweat, was like a refreshing glass of lemonade compared to the place her tongue had just vacated. The shaft seemed fairly bendy, despite clearly being fully hardened. A natural result of being that long and that thin at the same time. If she took him up the ass, it seemed likely that he'd be able to go 'around the bend', deep into her lower intestine - something she definitely wanted to try at some point, but never had had the chance to. Most of the time, if her lovers were well-hung enough to reach that deep, they were also too thick and hard to handle the corner.

But if she took him up the ass, he'd come there... and she'd get a Quickening off of him. And the more she thought about it, the less she wanted to find out what kind of traits she'd inherit from this foul-smelling beast. Superhuman spitting-skills? Super-smelly hair? Or maybe the ability to store water in her boobs? Not only did none of those options sound like a very good idea, it was also likely to tip off the Sultan about the true nature of her powers. At the moment, he apparently assumed that she had some heavy-duty enchantments loaded up beforehand, and considering how perceptive he seemed to be, she wanted to keep that ONE secret from him as long as she could.

So, the pussy it was. She'd been stretched worse there before, anyway. She finished her oral preparation of the camel-cock by sucking gently on the leaf-shaped head for a minute and while she'd normally have been tempted to keep going until she sucked a hot load straight out of his balls, in this case, she found it quite easy to stop. After all, doing that would get her an unwanted Quickening just as surely as a rear assault, and she also couldn't help wondering if his cum would be as foul-smelling and foul-tasting as the rest of him had been.

And so, she deftly flipped herself around, getting on all fours as she lifted her read end to an appropriate height. Her shoulders were between his forelegs, and as she reached back to guide his throbbing cockhead towards the right hole, she wondered how the big beast would deal with screwing someone so differently-shaped from his usual paramours. Well, he wouldn't really have to figure it out himself - out the corner of her eye, she could see the Sultan, sitting under his pavilion, the jewel on his ring glowing brightly. The blue-clad First Wife was sitting on his lap, one arm draped across his shoulders as she repeatedly ground herself down on his cock, both sets of eyes focused squarely on Anitra and the camel hovering over her. Apparently, they'd enjoyed the show so far...

As she'd suspected, the camel moved with a great deal more competence and confidence than his dim, bestial mind could possibly be given credit for. As soon as the leaf-shaped cockhead had disappeared between the wet folds of her pussy, his hindquarters jerked, and he almost jumped forwards, spearing the first 10-15 inches of his cock into her in one stroke. She nearly lost her balance, but regained it by clinging to his forelegs, which had now wound up a bit in front of her. She could feel his muscles vibrating above her as the control-enchantment struggled with his counterproductive mating-instincts, trying to channel his primal lust into a form of movement that would actually WORK.

Well, there was no reason SHE couldn't help with that. Letting her toes slide lightly across the slick grass beneath them, she pushed back with her arms, moving her entire body back to force another 10 inches or so inside. In the process, his cockhead breached the gates of her uterus, slipping easily inside her womb - far larger things had found their way up there before, after all. The slanted head poked against the rear wall of the sensitive organ, creating a jabbing sensation that gave her goosebumps. Her outer labia, meanwhile, had slid far enough back that they were now enfolding the rougher hide of the shaft's lower half - the bit that wasn't actually designed to go inside anyone - and she could definitely feel the difference inside as well. The surface felt coarse against her sensitive inner walls and for the first time during the whole ordeal, she felt a shiver of genuine lust run through her. The added stimulation that rough surface would generate when he started thrusting was something to look forwards to!

And it didn't seem like she'd have to wait for very long. There was still several inches of cock left outside her pussylips, but the camel and the enchantment manipulating his actions seemed to have finally agreed that the current depth was an acceptable place to start thrusting. At least, he was unlikely to accidentally slip out. His movements were awkward at best as he started moving his hips, half-bending his knobby knees to pull it off - but what he lacked in grace, he made up for in body-mass and length. He only pushed a couple of inches inside of her, but considering that his cockhead had already been resting at the absolute terminus of the orifice, those few inches had significant impact - especially with all his humpbacked weight behind them.

The flexible tissue of her womb deformed and stretched, wrapping around the leaf-shaped cockhead as it jabbed deeper into her body. It wasn't really THAT pointy, but under the circumstances, it felt rather like she had a broad-bladed spear lodged in her pussy. She shivered in pain as the awkward thrusts picked up speed, tearing into her sensitive insides repeatedly. But this was just the kind of pain she had learned to enjoy and combined with the rough stimulation of the lower half of her pussy, as the camel's thick skin ran over the increasingly hypersensitive surface, it was rapidly pushing her past pain and into pleasure.

A low moan escaped her lips as the camel subtly changed its pose, thrusting with less awkwardness and more strength as the camel's instincts and the subtle mind-control spell finally started working in conjunction towards the common goal of efficiently fucking the female beneath them. The new stance brought the last few inches of overlong cock to bear, grinding the coarse wool of the camel's groin against her flawless buttcheeks as each thrust bottomed out. It tickled. The added depth redoubled the pervasive, jabbing feeling of having her sensitive womb reshaped around the camel's pointy cockhead, and she felt an orgasm slowly rise to wash away the disgust and humiliation she had endured earlier.

The camel proved to have greater staying-power than she would've suspected of a prey species - whether by nature or because the enchantment was helping things along - and she managed to enjoy a couple of spine-tingling climaxes before he finally reached his. The load that rolled down the length of the three-foot cock and burst into her distorted uterus was quite different than what she was used to, too. It wasn't a huge quantity - though certainly enough to give her that pleasantly warm-and-full feeling - but it was THICK, feeling more like a cream cheese than a liquid. Rather than flowing around or drippling out when the camel stumbled back on shaky legs, beginning the arduous task of pulling his cock back out again, it laid like a hot stone in her belly.

With the afterglow of the twin orgasms and the warmth of the cum in her womb, she was feeling pretty good when she pulled herself the last foot or so forwards, to slide entirely off of the impractically-long shaft. It was already starting to droop, softening while retreating back towards its sheath - how did it all fit in there, anyway? She couldn't hope to guess. But she did know that her work wasn't entirely done. Quickly, she flipped back over to her knees, and began to lick her own juices off of the semi-hard shaft. It responded by stopping its retreat, but she knew that wouldn't last, and quickly covered the area nearest the sheath with her tongue before moving back towards the head.

After carefully cleaning the rest of the shaft, she wrapped her lips around the head, finally tasting the camel's cum - its thickness had prevented it from staining any other part of the shaft, as would have been the case with a more fluid load. The taste was intensely strong, as she had feared - bitter, and carrying an odd undertone of raw meat, probably due to the high concentration of protein. It felt odd on her tongue, too - kind of tickly. But it still wasn't even close to being the worst thing she'd tasted today and so she gulped it down without hesitation, swiftly cleaning the cum-stains from the head, leaving the whole shaft as spotless as it had been when it entered her. And quite a bit more so than when she first laid eyes on it.

Then, suddenly, she felt the shaft buck in her hands. The camel fidgeted above her. Was it getting geared up for a second round? Then the realization hit her at the same time as the sour taste hit her tongue. The sultan apparently had one more dirty card up his sleeve - the enchantment had commanded the camel to open his bladder, and she didn't need to guess at what she was supposed to do about it. Tiredly, she slipped her tongue underneath the leaf-shaped head and pulled it fully into her mouth, directing the thickening stream of hot piss into her throat.

Even with most of the stream bypassing her tongue to run straight down her gullet, the taste was intense. It didn't really taste any different to any piss she'd drunk before, just... way, way stronger. It was so sour it made her eyes water, and so acidic she could feel it burning all the way down to her stomach. Combined with the cheese-thick cum from earlier, it gave her a flash of insight - the camel was completely adapted to the dryness of the desert. He didn't waste water if he could help it - thus, both his cum and his piss was thicker and more concentrated than most beasts' would be.

There also was a lot of it. She wondered if the enchantment had been used to restrain him, ensuring that his bladder was full to overflowing for this closing scene. The flow was swift, now that it had pushed aside whatever vestiges of creamy cum remained in the urethra, and she could barely swallow it quickly enough to keep up. Soon, it was flooding her tongue, drowning it in acidic sourness. She tried to lean forwards, to swallow the head entirely and thus direct the remaining flow directly into her stomach, but found that this was harder than expected. The shaft had resumed its retreat back towards the sheath, and she had to shimmy awkwardly forwards on her knees to even keep up - barely managing as much. Her lips were barely clinging to the crown, and the continuing piss-stream was now splashing straight across her tongue on its way, forcing her to taste every sour drop.

When finally the shaft stopped receding, allowing her to 'catch up' and quickly lean forwards to plunge the remaining length straight down her throat, she suddenly found that it wasn't a very good plan anymore. Her mouth had just about filled with hot piss before she got that far and now that the shaft itself was lodged in her throat, she couldn't swallow it. Clearly, she hadn't thought that through. Her face was now also pushed straight up against his sheath, her nose actually pushing into the upper edge of the triangular hole - and despite her earlier cleaning-efforts, the inside of it still smelled eye-wateringly rank.

But it was too late to change tack now - if she pulled back, the infuriatingly sharp-eyed sultan might have cause to complain about her 'royal treatment' of the camel and she'd gone through too much to fail at this point. And so, she waited for the last drop of piss to leave the cockhead lodged deep in her gullet, her mouth flooded with the foul-tasting liquid, breathing as shallowly as she could as the sheath-musk raked at her nostrils.

Finally, the camel's bladder (which, she decided, had to be easily the size of a watermelon) was emptied, and she pulled her head back, swallowing the last mouthful before releasing the now-soft shaft from between her lips. Her stomach rumbled threateningly - her earlier nausea was returning in full force, though now with somewhat greater justification. The acidic piss was giving her stomach-lining a real workout, but she carefully exerted her self-control and calmed the trembling organ. Never mind the fact that it wouldn't likely be a good idea to throw up in front of the sultan, if that piss had burned going down, it would burn twice as bad coming back up again.

Swaying slightly - more concerned with keeping down the nausea than appearing elegant - she emerged from underneath the camel and got to her feet. Collecting her fallen clothes as she went, she walked over to the pavilion and made a curt bow. The people underneath the brightly-colored fabric were somewhat busy, however. The tiger was sitting back on his haunches, grinning toothily, and for good reason - the pretty, brown-skinned girl had her face buried in the thick fur of his groin, and was apparently deep-throating him. Meanwhile, her husband was riding her hard from behind, 'doggy-style' - most likely anally, judging by the angle. The sultan's eyes were squarely fixed on Anitra, however, and she had a feeling that they hadn't left her for a moment during her 'task' regardless of what he had been doing with his wife at the same time.

"Well..." he said, clearing his throat. He didn't seem even slightly winded, despite the rapid pace he was fucking the blue-clad girl with. "I'd say you certainly completed your first task splendidly. I'm sure all of camelkind appreciate your efforts towards treating them as is their due." She glanced back towards the camel, who was staring absentmindedly at one of the garden's well-manicured bushes, probably wondering if it was edible. Most likely, he had already forgotten the sordid scene he had just played a leading role in. She rolled her eyes. "If you say so, husband dearest. I trust I have your permission to withdraw?" It came out a bit more snarkily than she had intended, but he just laughed in response. "Certainly, certainly - head on back to the harem. I'm sure you'll be wanting a bite to eat - and maybe a bath?" His eyes glimmered mischievously. "Either way, make sure you get plenty of rest - I'll have your next task ready for you tomorrow evening."

Sure enough, after a hot bath, a good supper - it hadn't been easy to get anything down, but she knew that the best way to calm her queasy stomach was to get some actual FOOD into it - and a solid night's sleep, Anitra found that she'd recovered entirely from the previous evening's ordeal. Which, of course, left her with most of a day to worry about what the perverted sultan might cook up for her SECOND task. She was very carefully NOT thinking that 'it couldn't possibly be any worse'. She distracted herself from the pointless contemplations by noticing how the other harem-girls were suddenly acting much nicer towards her than previously. Seemed like they didn't know WHY she was spending so much time with their husband, or what she was doing with him... and, she remembered, the harem had technically been 'full' before she entered it. Which meant that the rest of them, now that they'd been forced to conclude that she wasn't about to get kicked back out as a mistake on the Chief Eunuch's part, were wondering which of THEM was going to have to go to make room for her. And apparently, they hoped to improve their odds of staying by buttering her up.

Obviously, SHE knew better. Once she'd completed her 'tasks' and had the tablet-fragment in hand, she'd be gone and the harem would be back to size, without anybody else getting the boot. But with nothing better to do, she decided to capitalize on her temporary status, and spent most of the day having her pussy and clit gently caressed by the fingers and lips of a succession of pretty young women, each hoping that their skills in the Sapphic arts would convince her to put in a good word for them with the sultan. She's enjoyed a fair bit of mutual pussy-licking with several of them earlier, but the current situation was apparently enough to convince them to pull out all the stops, and she was able to pick up a couple more nifty oral tricks between orgasms.

But soon enough, evening came, and she once again found herself escorted from the Harem - and, disconcertingly, the route was the same as the previous evening, landing her in that small, well-maintained garden that already held some fairly unpleasant memories. The Sultan, the first wife, and her pet tiger were already there, same place as before, lounging on their satin pillows in the shade of the pavilion. The sultan greeted her with an offhand wave as she approached. "Ready for your second task, my dear?" he asked, lifting an eyebrow. Not trusting herself to speak - at least, not without being rude - she simply nodded.

He returned the nod, and lifted a hand - adorned by the same enchanted ruby-ring he'd worn yesterday. In the western wall of the garden, a portcullis creaked open. It was a different entrance to the one the camel had entered through before, and when she turned around, she could see why. The garden's newest guest wouldn't have FIT through the other gate. He barely fit through this one. She'd never seen one before, but she instantly recognized the huge beast from the stories she'd heard - an Oliphant! The colossal, grey-skinned beast was trundling forwards at a relaxed pace, each footstep sending mini-tremors through the ground and flattening the well-kept grass.

The sultan grinned at the huge animal and made a grandiose gesture of introduction. "This, as you may know, is an elephant." She nodded, making a mental note of his pronunciation. He probably knew better than the marketplace storytellers she'd heard of them from in the first place. "He's one of the most prized members of my Royal Menagerie. Surprisingly hard to obtain, considering that his kind live wild in the jungles of the kingdoms just south of here... but the locals prize them highly, not just as beasts of burden, but also as weapons of war and as such aren't too big on exports." The sultan's grin widened. "I've named him Abu, after an old friend of mine who was a part-time elephant."

She nearly asked him what the hell he was talking about, but then thought better of it, and instead concentrated on watching the animal approach her, stepping carefully around the marble paths as the control-enchantments sought to keep the destruction in his wake at a minimum. The grass, at least, would grow back, but cracked marble was another matter. With the practical part of her mind occupied by those mundane observations, Anitra let the other side of herself remember, with no small degree of nostalgia, the night when she had first seen Blake. One of her first thoughts was that he was the size of an elephant, and now that she was seeing one in the flesh for the first time, she could tell that she hadn't been too far off the mark.

Still, it was a very different sort of 'big'. Blake was a predator, and despite his size, he remained sleek and agile, with much of his mass tied up in the slender neck and long tail. The elephant was a different creature altogether - all of its vast weight was concentrated in its huge, rotund body and massive head, supported by legs that seemed as sturdy as granite pillars. His immense ears flickered endlessly, sending eddies of cool air across his thick, wrinkled skin as he finally came to a halt in the center of the garden, leaving a trail of squashed bushes and trampled flowers in his wake. Up close, it seemed even bigger. She had, of course, encountered larger creatures in her travels - starting with Inferand, the immense red dragon - but those had all been magical creatures, monsters who defied the restrictions of reality by their mere existence. The elephant was noticeably more REAL to her senses, having attained such a size despite having not an ounce of magic in its blood.

The Sultan, noticing her state of near-shock, grinned. "Big, isn't he? He isn't even the biggest race of elephant, you know. His kind live in the jungles and are adapted for that. On the open savannahs further west, you can find their cousins - larger by several handspans! And in the icy wastelands of the far north, yet another kind lives - covered in long, tough fur to survive in the cold, they're larger yet! Truly, these are impressive animals..." He sighed. "But, alas, I won't be adding either of those sorts to my Menagerie anytime soon. Making space for this big fellow was hard enough. And that, incidentally, brings me to why he's here."

Anitra tore her attention away from the elephant - who was absentmindedly picking some flowers with his trunk and eating them - and perked up her ears. "Basically, while Abu here is an eye-catching centerpiece to my menagerie, the poor chap is quite alone. There isn't enough room in the Menagerie - OR the feed-budget - to acquire a girlfriend for him. And so, after having seen those impressive elasticity-enchantments you're carrying in action, it struck me that you, perhaps, could help... ease the pressure?" He grinned, and she winced. Well, it wasn't exactly a surprise. What other reason could he possibly have had for bringing an elephant before her?

She was torn between arousal and worry. She DID enjoy big dicks, quite a lot - even those big enough to stretch her painfully just provided a nice combo with the pleasure. But... there WERE limits. Without Blake nearby her stretchiness wasn't fully charged and at least twice, she'd run up against those limitations - in both cases, she'd only survived the experience due to Blake's timely arrival. Well, there was no point in borrowing trouble - she'd learned by now that an animal's genitals weren't ALWAYS in proportion to their body. Though, of course, that could go either way.

With a worried swallow, she pulled off her clothes and slipped beneath the barrel-chested beast - requiring her to do not much more than bend at the waist, rather than needing to get to her knees. The sight that met her made her stop in her tracks - either the beast was seriously aroused by her mere presence, or the sultan had simply used the control-enchantment to make sure she wouldn't need to waste much time on prep-work. Either way, the elephant's cock was all the way out of its sheath, if not yet fully hardened. And it was HUGE, long enough that the head was lightly caressing the fresh grass beneath it. Its girth was not lacking either - it was as thick around as her upper arm.

All in all, it was just about as big as Blake's... but where Blake had a cone-shaped cockhead designed to make entry easier, the elephant's designer had apparently decided not to bother with such frivolity. The front of the huge cock was perfectly flat, with no sign of any form of tapering, nor even a distinguishable 'head'. The whole thing was just one long, thick column. Approaching it reverently, she ran her hand lightly down the length of it, and immediately noted that - like the camel the day before - most of that tremendous length wasn't actually meant for direct use. Presumably, the sheer size of these beasts lent almost as much difficulty to the act of mating as a pair of back-humps would, and so, half of the shaft was covered in a rough, leather-like skin. Not that the lower half seemed particularly tender - these were thick-skinned beasts, after all, and apparently that distinguishing characteristic reached even to their most sensitive part.

Indeed, she thought as she caressed the lowest part of the slowly-rising shaft, the texture of this most sensitive part of the elephant, was actually somewhat rougher than the rough part of the camel's shaft from yesterday. It might be thin, sensitive skin by elephantine standards, but by human standards, it was still thick, rough and tough, like the calloused hands of an old worker. She could feel her pussy drooling at the thought of what it would feel like inside of her - and a good thing too, seeing as she'd need all the lubrication she could get.

With that in mind, she let herself fall to her knees and began to apply a coating of saliva to the leg-sized shaft. The taste wasn't bad, she noted as she let one of her hands slip down between her widely-spread legs. Apparently, being one of the main attractions of the sultan's menagerie meant that this fellow got bathed regularly - and thoroughly. Still, there was a lot of surface area to cover, and the rough skin felt like sandpaper against her soft tongue. Well, it wasn't so bad on the lower half, really. And as the shaft was getting firmer, the head began to rise higher - good thing too, since licking the cockhead while it was basically resting on the ground would have been awkward.

While her tongue worked, her hand wasn't idle, either. She knew she needed to pre-stretch - especially what with that ridiculously flat cockhead - and had easily buried her hand inside her sopping wet pussy to the wrist. Working it back and forth a few times to further stimulate the flow of lubricant, she then pulled halfway out and spread her fingers, pulling at her outer labia, trying to relax them as much as she could. She needed every advantage she could get.

However, on reflection, perhaps this wouldn't be as impossible a task as it appeared... remembering back to the two previous times when her body's internal flexibility had been pushed past its physical limit, they had both been acts of violence directed towards her. Urkanzar the Wizard had been actively trying to tear her apart with a pair of expanding forcefields, and the Tauros from the Valley of Wonder had simply torn into her with an unwholesome combination of violent power and a complete disregard for her survival. This beast, however, seemed to be as gentle as it was huge - indeed, what she had heard of them backed it up. They were simple plant-eaters, and while they could be trained for war, they retained a nervous disposition that made them as much of a danger to their own side as the enemy, unless placed under strong magical restraints. As, come to think of it, this one was.

So basically, she could set the pace herself, and make whatever preparations she needed before taking the plunge - opportunities that she'd sorely lacked on the previous occasions. Maybe under these circumstances she could push herself a bit further than would normally be possible - just by taking it slow and being careful. And if things didn't work out, well, she could always 'surrender' and just accept her failure at the task. Maybe she could convince the Sultan to give her a different task, or just try to satisfy his perversion by giving the elephant a full oral-and-boobs type treatment. It wasn't really do-or-die, at least not in the literal sense.

Still... she WANTED to do it. The size of it was mesmerizing, now that she'd had time to go over it all with her tongue - and it had hardened fully. She was forced to admit that it was, probably, longer than Blake's, if marginally less wide. And considering the lack of tapering, it probably outmassed his regardless. She wanted to see how much of it she could fit inside herself. She wanted to know how it'd feel - not just the size, but that harsh texture, so different from the glass-smooth skin of Blake's cock. She knew it would hurt, a LOT, but that particular sort of pain... that was the sort she enjoyed. The sort that made her climax harder and faster, overloading her mind to the point where she couldn't even tell where the pleasure ended and the pain began.

Either way, the moment of truth was fast approaching. She'd covered the shaft with as much drool as she could manage, further down the shaft than she honestly expected to be able to go. The whole thing was rock-hard, but still dangled at a fair angle beneath his barrel-shaped chest - too heavy to be entirely pulled straight. The spit-slickened surface gleamed orange in the rays of the sinking sun, and her labia felt loose and ready about her widely-spread fingers. There was nothing left to do except brave it.

Moving with more confidence than she really felt, she crawled over between his treetrunk-like front legs, and pushed herself up to a standing position, albeit with her waist bent at a sharp angle. The flat, thick-skinned head was positioned just about right, vibrating slightly behind her as the huge beast's blood rolled through it. Nervously licking her lips, she inched backwards while reaching back with both of her hands - digging her slender fingers into the moist folds of her pussy, and pulling it open as wide as it would go.

The sides of the head scraped over her fingers as she pushed herself back against it. It fit - barely- As soon as she had the first couple of inches inside, she withdrew her hands, fingers slick with pussy-juice, and absentmindedly licked them clean while continuing to carefully shimmy back. The elephant was standing stock-still, his muscles vibrating slightly as his mind fought against the enchantment holding him in place. Inch by inch, the long, hard shaft pushed into her, grinding against the sensitive walls despite her best efforts at relaxing the local musculature.

This was taking far too long, she decided. 'Inch by inch' just didn't do the trick when you were dealing with several FEET of huge, throbbing cock. But at least she felt confident by now that he was far enough inside that she didn't need to worry too much about it slipping out. With a grunt of effort, she lifted her upper body as much as she could, her black hair caressing the thick skin of the elephant's chest, and placed her hands on the animal's thick front legs. She could feel that the cock inside her was bending slightly, but apparently, it was no more than it could handle.

And so, with a deep breath, she pushed against the column-like legs, while simultaneously taking her weight off of her own feet as much as she dared. Her bare toes skidded easily across the soft grass as the superhuman strength of her arms came into play and with the elephantine cock as a guardrail, she carried herself back a solid foot in the space of seconds. Then, with her arms fully stretched in front of her, she stopped, momentarily paralyzed by the sensation she'd just induced. The push had sent the flat cockhead trundling clear up to the entrance of her womb, where it had been rather firmly denied entrance - she'd stretched her uterus before, but between the sheer girth of this intruder, and the notable lack of a pointy tip to open the way, it just wasn't happening this time.

Thus, along with the sensation of a good foot of rough-skinned cock grinding across every nerve-ending in her pussy and sending an overwhelming signal of arousal to rattle around in her brains, she also got the sensation of her cervix getting firmly displaced as the flat cockhead pushed it an inch and a half further up inside her body. She could feel her inner muscles clamp down on the thick shaft like a vise, stretched far enough that no amount of willpower could make them relax further. The deeper it got, the tighter it was... and she wanted more. She knew she could handle it. More of that deliciously rough shaft inside of her, more of that feeling of being filled beyond capacity by hot cock. She could take more, she was sure of it! Looking back, she could tell that she still didn't even have HALF of his length inside of her. She hadn't reached the point where the surface got REALLY rough, yet. That would never do. She needed to feel that inside of her, too. She NEEDED it.

Her breath coming in sharp jabs, she let her hands slide down the elephant's legs, bending her waist again, while simultaneously bending her knees a bit to get a better angle. She needed leverage. Her fingers dug into the soft grass, finding purchase in the firm earth beneath. The entangled roots of the grass created a solid, if somewhat springy, blanket. It would have to do. Burying her hands hard enough to tear the grass, she once again let her feet slide lightly across the surface as she pushed herself back and upwards. The position was awkward at best, and she could only manage half a dozen inches or so. But those were inches past her normal limits - inches that stretched her already-filled pussy lengthwise, tightening the walls around the entirety of the shaft, and pushing her uterus further up into her chest.

The sensation was enough to momentarily blank her mind, and a swift orgasm ambushed her out of nowhere. Her muscles, already strained by the awkward position, shook, and she felt her already-partially-bent legs scissor all the way together in a jerk of reflexive muscle-action. With her feet now touching the elephant's belly, her weight was almost entirely supported by the foot-and-a-half of cock already inside of her - and, of course, her hands, which were sinking even deeper into the ground.

But as the huge shaft shifted inside of her in response to this sudden movement, it ground across every square inch of hypersensitive tissue in her pussy, the edge of the cockhead mashing hard against the already-battered cervix. The flood of sensation this sent washing across her already orgasm-addled mind left only one thought in its wake - which, frankly, had been laying claim to most of the local real-estate since she started: Get more cock inside.

Arms trembling with superhuman effort, she lifted one hand from the crater it had left in the neat field of grass, and dug it into it again a bit further back. Putting her weight on that pushed her backwards another inch, aided by gravity. Then the first hand got moved back. It took all of her draconic strength, pushed to the limit, but she was able to 'walk' herself backwards on her hands, sliding the immense cock deeper and deeper inside with every shuddering push.

She reached the mid-point, where a slight edge marked the switch from 'somewhat-rough skin' to 'toughened elephant hide', and kept going. The friction was too much for even her amply overflowing juices to handle, and her inner labia were tugged into the orifice itself - creating a tight seal that ensured that she felt every last crease in the thick skin as it slipped through. And, not incidentally, her sensitive clit - fully erect and seemingly ready to leap out of its hood altogether - was pulled inwards as well, thus placing it in direct contact with the sandpaper-like hide.

However, even as the resulting burst of pleasure from a previously-untouched erogenous zone galvanized her into pushing onwards, her body was reaching its limit. If cervix-penetration had been possible, she could have handled more, and would no doubt have ended up with the cockhead lodged somewhere in the general vicinity of her throat - but it wasn't. The huge shaft only had her birth-canal proper to work with, and by now, every bit of that was stretched to the absolute maximum. With the rubbery tissue bearing down on the intruding cock with increasing tension, the friction was growing, making further penetration essentially impossible.

Thus, finally, she came to a shuddering stop - not by choice, but simply because she no longer had the strength to push herself back. For an endless moment, she hung there - suspended between the ground and the foot of dick still standing firm outside her labia. The shape of the elephant's dick was clearly visible through her taut stomach, and the unblemished skin of her lower stomach. The severity of the stretching made the bulging outline stand out even sharper than it normally did when she made love to Blake. The shaft was at a fairly sharp angle by now, too - as she'd worked her way up it, it had been pulled further and further downwards, finally winding up at something resembling a 45-degree angle to the ground.

The moment ended. And the elephant thrust into her. The multi-ton beast's rear legs bent, driving his angled cock down and forwards with his entire, monumental weight behind it. There was, however, nowhere for it to go. The enormous force of the thrust was absorbed by Anitra's pussy in its entirety, the crushing tightness preventing the impact from driving straight through to the uterus, which would probably have been torn straight out through her chest if that had happened. So instead of acquiring a rather fatal piercing, her entire body was driven into the ground - her already-overstrained arms giving way instantly, with her face and ample bosom hitting the springy grass a split second later.

She shock of the impact shook loose her legs, which had been curled against the elephant's stomach in pleasure until then, and her feet found their way to the ground once more. Her ass, still held aloft by the bottomed-out penetration, prevented her knees from following suit. As her mind cleared after the impact, she thus found herself nearly bent in half - her legs spread wide as her feet provided stability while her face, neck and chest was pushed into the grass by the weight above.

Then the elephant pulled back out. A good foot of rough-skinned shaft tore past her labia, peeling them back outside in the process, the enormous friction easily overcome by her elastic pussy's desperate attempt to pull itself back into shape. Something that felt like roughly half a dozen orgasms tumbled into her mind on top of one another, and her legs jerked spasmodically while her eyes rolled back in their sockets. There were, however, still more than enough cock left inside her to maintain her current position and angle, which was a good thing since she didn't have enough presence of mind left to do anything about it herself.

Another thrust thundered down inside of her with the weight of a small house behind it. Her pussy had barely started pulling itself together, and provided only scant resistance as it was stretched back to its previous expansion, once again filling her body to the point of bursting with hot, granite-hard cock. Her body jerked in response, and a gasp flew from her lips as the impact physically pushed the air from her lungs.

She was, effectively, trapped between the springy, grass-covered ground below, and the thick-skinned pachyderm above. The only way out from between the hammer-and-anvil set would have been for her to push herself up to a shallower angle during the interval between pull-back and thrust and thus push herself forwards off of the shaft... but even if she'd had the mind to think of that or the desire to try, her overtaxed arms were currently flopping uselessly along the ground in orgasmic jerks, entirely incapable of lifting her weight, much less doing so in the time required. She would not be able to move an inch until the elephant was sated, and (hopefully) stepped back to release her.

The earth-shattering thrusts, meanwhile, were coming harder and faster. The first one had been an awkward thing, enforced on the big beast's dim mind by the enchantment - this wasn't exactly the position he was used to using when mating. But the tightness wrapped around his cock was something he understood - as was the pleasure he felt when he thrust into it. The magically-induced impulse to 'kneel down' rhythmically was quickly starting to seem like a truly splendid idea and as his resistance faded, his instincts started helping instead of hindering the enchantment. The movement became smoother, easier and faster. Which, of course, meant that he was driving the girl beneath him into the grass with even greater force.

The grinding friction, the repeated, painful stretching, the way her labia were being pulled inside and peeled back out with each thrust - and of course the way her sensitive cervix was being violently battered like a particularly hated practice-dummy - had meanwhile pushed Anitra into that special place where the distinction between pain and pleasure disappeared and it all flowed together into one big bowl of sensation-soup. She drank eagerly of it, allowing herself to be carried away into the orgasmic agony, the heady helplessness, and the pervading desire for it to go on and on forever and ever - just an endless sea of pleasure that she could drown in and never come up for air.

That dream was fairly close to reality - the elephant was certainly enjoying himself, but the whole setup was deeply awkward for him - the thrusting was all wrong and his instincts were less than convinced that he was actually inside a proper vagina. The texture seemed wrong, and the tightness was way too great... even the rut-inducing enchantment couldn't entirely convince him that he was actually, really, having sex. And so, despite the sperm churning eagerly in his testicles, longing for a long-awaited release, he found it more than passingly difficult to actually reach his climax. Still, this kneel-and-rise routine wasn't particularly hard on him - he could do it all night if he had to.

And he very nearly did. Hours later, the garden lit by a scattering of oil-filled braziers in the absent of the long-since disappeared sun, the midnight-hour fast approaching... he finally reached his climax, thanks mostly to his increasingly swollen bladder pressing against his prostate gland. Anitra was, by then, in a semi-comatose state, aware only of the endless, shuddering thrusts tearing through her body and filling her mind with pleasure and pain. She was also in a crater, as the repeated thrusts had pushed her chest and face hard enough into the ground to create a small hollow.

But finally, the elephant's coconut-sized, dangling testicles released their precious content. Built up from two decades of abstinence, as well as four hours of perpetual, unreleased arousal, it was a huge load even by elephant standards. Fortunately, he was standing rather than kneeling over her when the load boiled down through his shaft and exploded out his urethra - directly into the half-open mouth of her badly battered womb. If he'd been fully buried inside her at that point, the resulting pressure on her heart and lungs could've been.... unpleasant, at the very least.

As it was, her uterus was hanging around the upper edge of her stomach when it started expanded like a fleshy balloon. Gush after gush of thick, white-gray elephant-cum poured into it and the pussy outside was still tight as a particularly well-fitting glove around the rest of the shaft - there was nowhere else for it to go. And so, her stomach stretched, rapidly and copiously, as her womb was filled by gallons of hot cum. Fortunately, said womb was designed to hold a dragon's load two or three times over - with the dragon's cockhead still taking up most of the internal space. So even as the elephant poured bucketloads of jizz into it, it was not pushed beyond endurance.

She looked about 6 or 7 months pregnant when the final drop of cum had been pushed into the widely-stretched uterus. The intense pressure and heat radiating from the previously-untouched insides of her womb brought new waves of pleasure to Anitra's mangled mind, and she barely noticed that the thick shaft of the elephant's dick was rapidly losing its hardness. The elephant, however, did, and with a sigh, he released the contents of his strained bladder.

A torrent of hot piss poured into her already-stretched womb powered by the pressure of an over-full bladder and gravity both. It was easily a couple of gallons, churning together with the thicker cum, pushing her stomach even further outwards - pretty close to 'nine months pregnant', and also pretty close to the absolute limit of its stretching capacity without the bolstering presence of her draconic paramour. Fortunately, the shrinking shaft enabled a river of heavily-pressurized cum to begin escaping around the edges of her labia, running down her still-shaking legs to pool in the grass at her feet.

Anitra, of course, only noted that the hotness and pressure in her stomach had gotten even greater, and relished in it, unknowingly having several orgasms from the sensation of the elephant pissing directly into her womb. She would probably still have enjoyed it if she'd been fully aware, though - if only because she would then also have known that it was the last orgasms she was likely to have tonight. The shaft in her pussy was losing size and hardness FAST.

Seconds later, it no longer had the rigidity to keep her upright, and with a loud, slurping *plop*, it slipped out of her as she sank to her knees, feet skidding across the cum-slicked grass. Her oversized stomach, however, made the resulting position more than a little awkward, and with a spark of returning awareness, she rolled over onto her back, staring up at the wrinkled, grey chest of the elephant without really seeing it.

Her pussy, finally freed of its plug, gushed forth a yellowish-grey waterfall of piss and cum, spilling out over the neatly manicured grass to form a rapidly-deepening pool between her already-stained legs. Her mind, slowly beginning to get the cogs grinding towards full consciousness again, randomly grasped the idea of what the gardener would say tomorrow - between her crater, the growing lake, and the trail of destruction that the elephant had wrought on his way in - and would likely double on his way out - the place was starting to resemble a disaster-zone. A girlish giggle escaped from between her parched lips and she became aware that after several hours of sweating and pussy-juice-extruding action, she was more than a little dehydrated.

Action followed thought without further ado and with one shaking hand she scooped up a handful of the goo gushing from her pussy, lifting it to her lips to drink deeply. It was tart, thick, and foamy, but it wet her lips and palate. She drank down a few more handfuls, and felt her foggy head begin to clear while a familiar tingling ran up her spine. The taste was nothing to write home about, she realized now that her head was working with something resembling normal speed again - but more importantly, she realized that she could derive some measure of Quickening from second-hand sperm, too. It was weaker, though - she could tell that much. It wasn't the narcotic rush of an ordinary Quickening, and if it had been, it would presumably have brought with it a dollop of enormous strength and bottomless stamina. Instead, it was more of a dull glow to the normal blinding brightness - effective at restoring her body and mind from the edge of exhaustion and overstimulation, but little more.

She toyed with the idea of bottling some of Blake's cum as an emergency measure while picking herself up from the growing pool of cum and crawling out from under the elephant, but something told her that freshness was paramount in the use of her powers - even the short trip from her pussy to her mouth had dulled the Quickening this much, so keeping it bottled for a days and weeks probably wasn't gonna work. Still, it was something to keep in mind for situations like this, where she'd found herself with a loaded pussy and nothing else.

The garden - she reflected as she stood up fully, finally out from under the elephant's chest - looked very pretty in the darkness, lit by rows of brass braziers and the twinkling stars above. Had some servant been walking around out there, lighting those braziers while she was lost in an orgasmic haze? If so, one would hope he had a strong heart and/or stomach. Then again, with all the enchantments being bandied about in this city, it was just as likely that the Sultan had lit all of them with a single wave of his hand. She idly tried to spot the glow of an enchantment through the natural light of the burning wicks as she walked towards the pavilion.

She was quite aware that her stomach was still bulging heavily, stretched taut by her cum-filled uterus, and she was leaving a sticky slime-trail behind her as she walked - her womb was rapidly expelling its contents, as it tended to do when it didn't come out of a dragon's balls. Her legs and groin were practically glazed with cum from lying around in a puddle of it. But somehow, she doubted that His Sultanness would take offense at her appearance.

For once, however, HE wasn't in the middle of having sex. She had little doubt that he HAD been doing any number of interesting things with his wife while watching - the fact that said wife was still quite naked being evidence to that fact - but at the moment, she didn't seem to be up for much. She was barely awake, her head resting on her husband's lap as she watched Anitra's approach with heavily-lidded eyes. Apparently, she'd been determined not to miss the end of the show THIS time and had managed to stay awake - if only just barely. The tiger, on the other hand, was snoring contently on the silken pillows behind them.

The Sultan, meanwhile, still seemed quite alert, sitting erect while stroking his wife's hair with one hand, gazing at Anitra with a glimmer in his eyes that couldn't be entirely attributed to the reflected glow of the braziers. He nodded as she stopped before him with a slight, almost ironic bow. "Well, my dear Anitra, you certainly continue to amaze me. For a while there, I didn't think you'd SURVIVE - but not only did you do so, you also strolled away from it like it was no big thing. Hah. 'Big thing'." His laughter was a loud bark in the still night, and the tiger stirred behind him, lifting its big head to see if the noise was something he should be concerned with, then dropping it back on the pillows after deciding that no, it was just humans being silly as they were wont to.

Anitra, meanwhile, just curled one shapely eyebrow and rolled her eyes at the pun. The Sultan snorted, then shook his head. "Sorry. Lack of sleep tends to corrupt my sense of humor. If I stay awake too long, I'll start ACTIVELY punning, rather than just laughing at unintentional ones." He grinned again, but Anitra was suddenly noticing the wrinkles underneath his eyes that couldn't be attributed to age. Maybe he wasn't so much 'alert' as 'insomniac'? She put it out of her mind - it wasn't her problem if he was having trouble sleeping on top of his silken sheets, piles of treasure and hordes of willing harem-girls. She just needed to finish one more 'task', and then she was out of there.

The Sultan waved a tired hand. "Anyway, you've obviously accomplished the task I set before you. I'll have the third and last task ready for tomorrow night. Go, get yourself cleaned up and get some rest - I'm sure you need it, despite appearances. Maybe leave your clothes off 'till you've gotten a bath - I'm already antagonizing my gardener over tonight's games, and I'd rather not add the laundry-ladies to the list. Sadi will escort you, and he can handle a bit of nudity." Anitra grinned as she realized that he, like herself, had taken note of the devastation that had been wrought on the garden, and nodded. "You're probably right, 'husband dearest'. And hey, if we run across any patrolling guards, the sight'll just help 'em stay awake for the duration of their watch... some of 'em seem to need the added motivation."

On the way back the harem, Anitra found that she was starting to pick up on the nuances of Sadi's apparent dislike of her. Maybe it was the increased awareness from the Quickening, however mild, or maybe just that she'd walked back and forth with him so many times now... or maybe just the fact that her goo-covered appearance was putting some strain on his pokerface. Either way, she realized that she'd finally figured out what the bad vibe she was getting off of him was. It wasn't that he was disapproving of the sexual acrobatics she got up to with the Sultan, nor the fact that he was essentially blackmailing her into them... but rather the fact that he knew she was dangerous. He'd suspected as much from the start, wasted days trying to prove that she was somehow toxic, but even when she'd been 'outed' as an experienced adventurer, the Sultan had still continued giving her ample chances to assault him. Whether his resulting annoyance was motivated by genuine concern for his lord, or if it was just because HE had to go to all kinds of trouble to keep assassins off his own back while his master was all but shoving his throat in the face of a could-be killer... she couldn't tell. But it was still an interesting insight into the complexity of the Chief Eunuch.

A short while later, she was soaking in the baths, scrubbing the copious amounts of cum-residue off of her lower body, while feeling the weariness begin to set in again. The half-assed Quickening she'd gotten from the secondhand elephant-cum had apparently lost as much in duration as intensity, and the predictable fatigue and joint-pains from the hour-long session with the elephant were beginning to appear in force. She winced as she felt her groin begin to throb in a particularly unpleasant way, an obvious aftereffect of the rough treatment it had endured. Even her elasticity wasn't perfect, and without a full-blown Quickening to hurry things up, it would take time for her body to fully recover.

And, of course, she was looking at yet another 'task' tomorrow night. The first one had stretched her willpower to the limit, and this one had tested the boundaries of her body. What was next? The Sultan seemed like the kind of guy who'd save the best for last... which didn't bode well for her, particularly not if she went into it at less than 100% capacity. Still... the Sultan didn't know the true source of her power. At least, she didn't THINK he did, though in retrospect, she'd also been fairly sure that he hadn't seen through her cover. Well, either way, there was always the hope that THIS trial would give her a chance to take full advantage of her Quickening - the last two had prevented her from doing such, the first because she didn't WANT to, and second because she COULDN'T - the mere idea of taking that elephant up her ass made her shiver. It would've split her wide open, in a very literal, bloody sort of way. Her throat wouldn't have been able to hold him, either, and looking at how long it took to get the big beast off even using the full capacity of her pussy, she wasn't sure if her tongue would've held out long enough to do so with nothing but some licky-sucky-between-the-boobs action.

Well, no use crying over spilled cum. She still had (most of) a night and a day to rest and recuperate before the final task - and even without a Quickening, she healed far faster than a normal human being. She might still be SORE by tomorrow night, but she wouldn't be crippled. Then again... perhaps there was a way to improve matters further, now that she thought about it.

The next day, she found herself surrounded by 'friends' from amongst the other haremettes, just like the day before. The fact that she'd been with the Sultan 'till well past the point where they had all gone to bed did not decrease their conviction that she was the new favorite, needless to say, and they all seemed more than ready to please her as they had the day before. When she revealed her desire to turn things around a bit, however, there weren't any complaints. Thus, she spent the majority of the day with her head between a pair of shapely thighs, testing out the new oral tricks she'd picked up in the harem so far, and slurping down as much pussy-juice as she could get her tongue into.

She had gained a full-blown Quickening off of lady-juices before - though even back then, it had been a low-key sort of Quickening, despite coming from a magical creature... a fairy, to be precise. But still, it was worth remembering that her power-absorbing ability wasn't limited to man-cum... and sure enough, she found that with sufficient intake of pussy-juices, even from ordinary women, she could maintain a steady, if weak, Quickening. Like the secondhand-cum-Quickening the night before, it lacked the 'high' that usually affected her judgment, but she could still feel it working in the important way - healing her stretchmarks and internal bruising from the rough treatment she'd endured the night before.

She'd left half the harem somewhat dazed, and her tongue somewhat worn, but by the time the sun sank towards the horizon and Sadi called on her to lead her to the last assignment, she was fully recovered - the wear and tear of the previous night washed away by a gallon of hot pussy-juice. She felt cautiously confident that she could handle whatever the Sultan could throw at her. Still, she felt a bit uncertain when she noticed that their path did not lead toward the gardens where she'd spent the last two evenings - but rather, up the winding stairs towards the Royal Quarters.

As before, Sadi backed away as soon as he'd gotten her in the ornately-carved door, and it swung shut behind her on silent, well-oiled hinges. The huge bedroom was as palatial as ever, she noted, but somewhat more... empty than before. She silently approached the bed, remembering how the sultan had been nearly hidden amongst the pillows the first time she came here - but not this time. The bed, like the rest of the room, was empty. She felt a cold chill of apprehension rush up her spine. Was this all just a trap? Had the Sultan never intended to give her a chance in the first place?

"Ah, Anitra? I almost didn't hear you come in. I'm out here - join me, if you will." The voice carried clear in the quiet atmosphere, and her eyes followed it to its origin - the open doorway leading out to the large balcony. Moving cautiously, she stepped through the opening, and immediately caught her breath in her throat. The view was... well, breathtaking, obviously. The City of Mirages gleamed below like a pile of jewels in the desert sand - with the bright blue sapphire of the lake as the crown-jewel. Below, people robed in both somber white and garish colors could be seen, moving amongst the buildings, exchanging greetings or subtle insults - she could even hear snippets of the things that were said, carried on the evening breeze.

"Yes... it is quite a sight, isn't it? Even after all these years... all these centuries... I never really get tired of it. I often come here when I am feeling particularly introspective. Or just particularly bored." She glanced sideways and saw the sultan, dressed in white as always, leaning tiredly on the marble railing. His stance, and the weight of his voice, seemed to convey the countless years behind him in a way that completely overrode the youthfulness of his face. He wasn't even looking at her... nor, she realized as she followed his eyes, at the city. He was gazing at the great wall that surrounded it, and the heat-daze that rose from it - the wall of illusions that still kept this hidden gem of the desert from the eyes of the world, if a bit less effectively than it used to.

She felt at loss for words. She'd met a lot of different faces of the Sultan - a loving husband, a horny youth, and even a sharp-eyed manipulator. But this was... different. This, she knew in a flash, was what the people below saw when they looked up at him. The image of a legendary ruler, one who possessed infinite wisdom by virtue of the countless years that had come and gone and left him untouched in their wake. Someone who wielded a power most could not even fathom, a mythical figure just a step shy of a god.

Even she, a DragonRider, felt suddenly, irrationally intimidated by his presence. A sense that, while she might one day be his equal, she was still far from it. A feeling that any stratagem or cleverly-planned deceit she might attempt to wield at him would fail before it even got off the ground, for he had already predicted every possible move she could make and made his own preparations accordingly. She didn't like that feeling, and shook it off with an annoyed twitch of her shoulders, forcibly unbinding her stunned tongue. "Definitely a nice view, yes. But I gather that my final task isn't to be a lookout."

He finally glanced in her direction, with one eyebrow inquisitively lifted. Then he gave a snort. "Not easily moved, are you? Well, that's fine. I suppose I SHOULD try to get to the point. 's true, I didn't ask you here to enjoy the view with me, but on the other hand, the truth isn't as far from that as you might think." He rubbed his well-groomed beard with one hand, and returned to staring pensively out into the distance. "Your final task is to... entertain me. Tell me some stories of your travels - you are clearly an adventurer of some experience. You must have some things worth telling."

Anitra, taken aback, blinked. When he'd said to 'entertain him', she'd momentarily thought that she knew what was going on. But the last bit had completely derailed her train of thought. "You... want me to tell you stories? After everything else I've gone through, my last task is to tell stories?" She couldn't quite believe it. The Sultan looked over at her with a grin, and for a moment, seemed to be the same boyish pervert who'd introduced her to the giant snake just a few nights before. "Finding it difficult, are you? Hmm. Maybe I'll help set the tone, then, by telling you a little story of my own..."

His eyes slid back to the scenery before him, and his expression was one of ageless fatigue again. "Did you wonder how I know adventurers so well, my dear Anitra? How I was able to spot you as one before I even met you? It is simple, really - I used to be one myself, ages and ages ago. Before I was a sultan, I was a rogue - with a scimitar in hand and faithful friends at my side, I went out into the world with a taste for trouble on my lips. We battled monsters, foiled the plans of evil wizards, destroyed cursed artifacts and recovered untold riches from ancient tombs and temples..." His sigh was as deep and dry as the desert wind. "Those were... good times. I thought they would last forever."

"But of course, they didn't. My father-in-law... he was already old when I first met him. Eventually, the sands claimed him, as they claim all in time. Then I had to take the throne. I cast away the name of the thief, the rogue, the treasure-hunter Aladdin and took the name of Haroun Al-Rashid, Sultan of Agrabah... for a time short. Hah. Even the name of Agrabah has become so much sand in the desert. I had seen too many things. As an adventurer, the danger was intoxicating. Now, I had responsibility over a whole city, with all its people. And I KNEW what was out there. Even before, Agrabah had been threatened again and again by outside forces - and I had fought against them, usually winning by the skin of my teeth. EXITING!" The last part was halfway to a roar, and his eyes blazed at the memories.

"...exiting, when it's just your own life on the line and not thousands and thousands of citizens who look to you for their safety and survival on a daily basis. I couldn't stand the thought of failing them. Much of it was uncertainty in myself. I had been nothing but a street-rat until I chanced to win the heart of the princess. I did not feel worthy to wear the mantle of Sultan. And so, I made a terrible decision. I called on my friend, the Jinn, who had helped me through many a dark time before, and I asked him to seal off the city - to give it impenetrable walls, and lock the terrible, dangerous world outside. To give it the strength to survive in isolation, no matter what transpired beyond those walls." He shook his head sadly.

"I would not make such a request today. But on that day, so long ago, I did. And he could not deny me. But he asked of me a sacrifice in return - my mortality. That I might take responsibility for my decision until such time as I saw fit to reverse it. Only one small mercy did he offer - that my life would be tied to my beloved Jasmine, so that she would live as long as I did. I was still young and foolish. It seemed less a sacrifice than a boon. I know better today, but it is far too late... regardless, I agreed to the bargain and he created his masterwork - the walls, the lake... and other, more subtle things. On that day, Agrabah became Mirage City, and few now remember the old name. And none at all remember the name of Aladdin, for there is only the Immortal Sultan, Haroun Al-Rashid!" He lifted a hand in a grandiose gesture, then let it fall to caress a bulge in his sash.

"Since that day, he has slept... my oldest friend. Maintaining all these enchantments tax his powers greatly. I can still call on him, if necessary, but I do not wish to push him even further. Jinn he may be, but he is not omnipotent, nor truly immortal. Jinn can die, you know. I have seen it happen - and, indeed, caused it, on one memorable occasion." He lifted his hand again, and returned to leaning heavily on the railing as he continued. "...it has been a long time. I do not regret that. I have spent it with Jasmine, and we have found solace from eternity in each other's arms, even as we have... branched out, in search of OTHER entertainment." His grin turned boyish for a split second, then it was gone - like a shadow flitting across the moon. "But we grow weary. She sleeps a lot, nowadays. Even now, she's slumbering in the adjoining chamber, arms wrapped around her dear Rajah. Hah... she had a pet tiger named Rajah when I first met her. How many Rajahs have there been, by now? Thousands, probably. I'm... not actually sure if she still remembers. If she realizes that it's not the same Rajah it's always been. I've taken to ensuring that a replacement is always ready when the last one grows old."

The mournfulness in his eyes was heartbreaking, and she felt like she should say something - but she honestly had no idea what. She kept her peace, and he continued. "Me, I've gone in the other direction. I rarely sleep, and never for long. It's been that way for a while. The last time I had a really good night of sleep was... oh, probably a couple of thousand years ago, now." His eyes glimmered in the fading light as he finally turned his attention back towards her - which was impressive, considering the beauty of the sunset playing out before them. "That was the time when a mysterious traveler by the name of Lutan penetrated my impenetrable walls."

A slight shock ran through her. As she had suspected, this ancient sultan had actually MET the infamous Lutan, whose footsteps she had been treading in - and finding to be quite dangerous and difficult, even for someone with a dragon handy. The Sultan's sharp eyes caught her surprise, however. "You know of him, do you? No great surprise there. You're trying to gather the pieces of his tablet, after all. He was a strange one, to be sure. I sensed great power in him, but subtle, so subtle it was barely there. The guards brought him to me because they didn't know what else to do - no stranger had entered Mirage City for so long, many had seemingly forgotten that the outside world even existed."

"But he... reminded us. Reminded me, certainly. He told me of what had happened outside, in the time since I had erased Agrabah from the map. Of the great things that had been built and destroyed, of the kingdoms that had risen and fallen, of the inventions made and old secrets forgotten. His stories lulled me to sleep, and I rested like I hadn't done in ages. Then, one day, he was gone, as mysteriously as he had arrived. Leaving behind only a small, dull piece of clay - and a letter, asking me to hold on to it until I was ready to face the outside world."

Anitra nodded - that sounded like him, alright. "I actually started to open the gates of this city back then - just by an inch..." he continued. "I sent a few brave souls out, to intercept lone travelers and itinerant merchants in the desert, and invite them to our city. I let them share in its wonders, and its goods, in return for their promise of secrecy. In return, we got more stories and goods from the outside world that were... interesting curios, if rarely actually worthwhile. It worked like that for a while... until a couple hundred years ago. Suddenly, we had entire caravans beating down our door. Guess someone spilled the beans. Well, it doesn't matter. It worked out, after all. Our existence is somewhat of an open secret by now, and the foreign merchants are at least delivering something worthwhile to our doorstep in the process. And the walls still protect us from any who would consider making enemies of us."

He then shook his head angrily. "...actually, that's just a justification. These walls of illusion aren't needed anymore. But I am. I have been here too long. The city, the government - they don't know how to function without me. And there's no succession, nor will there be. We... didn't want to have children, only to watch them grow old and die while we lived on. We used enchantments to prevent it. They were supposed to be temporary, but they got mixed up in the immortality-spell somehow. They're permanent, now. Only way to get rid of them is to get rid of the immortality, at which point there won't be more left of us than sand."

With a fist under his chin, he returned to staring down at the city, which was fast becoming enveloped in darkness, even as lights flickered alive throughout it. "So I'm stuck here. If I drop the walls, me and my wife can finally rest, but I'll be leaving the city in chaos. Everybody with an ounce of political influence or monetary power will run riot, trying to seize the empty throne. And it would be my responsibility, for getting us in this damnable position in the first place. So I stay. I continue to watch over the city, even as I seek what entertainments I can to make the nights pass easier."

He tore himself away from the sight, and refocused his eyes on her. "Which leads us to you. You've certainly managed to impress me, repeatedly. You're clearly an adventurer of a rare sort... and you're collecting the pieces of Lutan's Tablet. That must have led you to some interesting places. Tell me your story, and perhaps I can sleep soundly tonight..." Anitra couldn't help but smile. The hope in his voice was flattering somehow. And she felt like helping him, not just completing her 'task' and claiming her prize. An annoyed flicker in the back of her head told her that she'd gotten to know him too well, but she pushed it aside and gestured for him to follow her back inside, to the huge, silken bed. "Fine, fine, I'll tell you the whole thing - but not standing out there in the darkness. It's gonna be a long story, so we may as well get comfortable."

An eager look lit up his eyes as he practically bounced into the huge bed, and she waggled a finger at him. "But be warned! All of my stories are fairly naughty. Don't blame me if I set your ears on fire." He grinned up at her from where he lounged amongst the pillows. "Oh, don't worry... if it gets too bad, we can always take a break from the story and... do something else, until I get tired, hmm?" His eyebrows went up and down several times, in an exaggerated if-you-know-what-I-mean sort of gesture, and she rolled her eyes. "I've got a feeling this task may take more than one night..." "So much the better!" He immediately replied, as she'd known he would.

She nodded, and settled down into the pillows to get comfortable. Then, she started her story. "The black-haired girl moved through the crowded marketplace with an air of confidence surrounding her like a shield. Around her, people gave way with bowed heads. Out the corner of her eyes, however, she could see the heads coming up again, with burning eyes. For the women they burned with envy and for the men they burned with lust..." she felt herself hit her stride as the story began to flow from her lips, the memories of that day - and that black, black night - overcoming her. Her thoughts turned to Blake, even as she recounted their first meeting. Hopefully, he'd manage to keep boredom at bay while she told her story - she certainly wouldn't be able to finish it tonight...

Blake, meanwhile, was finding it hard to get bored anymore. Ever since he'd first screwed that slavegirl, things had been different. Something had snapped in that girl, he decided - and not just in a physical sense. Before, she'd been obedient, conscientiously carrying out any request or order. Now... now, she was just insatiable. She didn't wait for him to ask - well, to be fair, she still backed off if he asked her to STOP, but failing that, she'd spend literally every waking minute either having sex with him or trying to get him ready for another round.

It wasn't like he MINDED, really - it was just... weird. He was fairly sure she'd been badly hurt the first time and even though she'd certainly managed it better than anyone else (baring Anitra) ever had, that wouldn't normally translate into an outright eagerness to do it again. But there she was, climbing all over his groin as he laid on his back, massaging his scale-covered testes with her hands while caressing his tail-hole with her tongue, trying to coax his cock back out of its sheathe so she could ride it again. Well, it was possible that she was just a natural masochist, but he definitely had a feeling that it was more than that... that she'd just somehow snapped.

He was, of course, quite right about that, even if he didn't realize the whole truth. The pain and trauma of Blake's violent sexual assault had been the straw that broke the camel's back where her battered psyche was concerned. A lifetime of sexual abuse had come crashing in on her all at once, and now, she could think of nothing but to satisfy sexual desires - her own or others', it mattered not. The itching didn't help, either.

The magically-induced healing sleep had saved her life, but her pussy had been an utter mess - it had been torn halfway open, then cauterized as it was. Her labia hung permanently open, never really closing the gap, and the tunnel behind them simply pulsed around the empty air if there was nothing else. Her inner muscles no longer had the capacity to contract and close - leaving her with a sensation of abject, cold emptiness inside of her whenever she didn't have a huge, hot dick stuffed up there.

Really, a normal-sized cock wouldn't even have been felt the way she was now, and even an objectively huge one wouldn't be able to bring her any real sexual fulfillment. The burning of her insides had scorched off most of the nerve-endings in the region, leaving her with a mostly-numb pussy, and only patches of sensation scattered across its internal area. Only a cock of Blake's magnitude could simultaneously stimulate all of those areas, lighting off enough pleasure-signals in her shattered mind to give her the orgasms she now craved in every waking moment.

This was not to say, however, that she was entirely numb. The scorched nerves were still sending signals, just not relevant ones. Hence, the itching. All of the numb areas itched, constantly, ceaselessly, sending tremors up her spine. It only stopped when she had something inside of her. When the deadened flesh was being rubbed, the itching stopped, and the pleasure began to flow from the still-sensitive areas instead. The remnants of her shattered mind were rapidly rebuilding around that simple, intrinsic punishment/reward system. Sex was pleasure. Not-sex was torment. She knew nothing else, cared for nothing else. Before, she had pleasured her master with well-trained skill. Now, she was doing it with despairing enthusiasm, her mouth hungrily devouring his asshole as she felt the torturous itching grow ever-stronger inside of her, silently begging for his mighty cock to rise so that she could lose herself in the pleasure for just a short time.

And, once again, it worked. The thick shaft emerged from its scale-covered sheath, topped by the pointy cockhead, and in a flash she was on top of it. She needed no preparation, took no cares. She simply plunged her aching pussy down around it, pushing the throbbing shaft as deep as it would go - which was, all things considered, pretty damn deep. Her womb had been entirely shattered in their first mating, peeled open like a banana and then burned in place that way - at this point, it was simply a marginally-sensitive extension of her pussy, offering no resistance as Blake's cockhead found its familiar place inside of it. Her normally-taut stomach was stretched visibly, the tube-shaped bulge running neatly up to her ribcage, surrounded by pale stretchmarks that stood out brightly against her dark skin. They ran all the way up and down the sides of the bulge, visible even when it wasn't inside of her - a permanent reminder of where it SHOULD be, to her mind.

Her legs were shaky underneath her as she sought to find purchase on the slick scales of his belly, but despite abundant practice, it still wasn't easy. But she needed the leverage to move properly - lifting up, and then letting herself drop back down with the force of gravity, spearing herself on the throbbing erection within her. But as each impact sent jolts of long-awaited pleasure coursing through her, it became harder and harder for her to get her legs working.

Fortunately, the master was merciful. His huge, taloned hand enfolded her and the pain as his nails bit into her tender flesh in several places was a distant, unimportant thing compared to what was to come. In the master's hand, she was lifted and shoved down, rapidly and mercilessly, far harder and faster than gravity alone could. Each thrust shook her body, sending tremors through her internal organs, leaving her limbs to jerk randomly and uselessly wherever they weren't being held close by the master's hand.

The itching was gone. The pleasure was flooding through her mind, washing away everything else. Just for those few minutes, enfolded in the master's embrace, she could let everything else fade away into the background and simply enjoy herself to the fullest as she was repeatedly pounded down into the oversized cock. Her joy lasted for quite a while, too - if she'd been of a mind to count, she'd have realized that she'd already milked Blake's cock five times that day, and his overworked testes were having a hard time keeping up. The violent pounding thus continued for a good half-hour before he finally came, pouring a decent-sized load of boiling-hot cum into her pussy - where, of course, it immediately rushed back out around the edges, drooling down from her labia to coat his groin. It wasn't as if there was ANY room left inside for it, after all.

The pleasure stopped. She was pulled off the shaft. Her mind shied away from the realization, but she knew she only had a few minutes before the itching would start again. She had to get started right away on getting him ready for the next round! Eagerly, clinging to his scales by her fingernails, she began to clean his dick and groin with her tongue, lapping up the cum that had slicked the scales there. It wouldn't do to let it stain - she had to show the master that she was good, that she always cleaned up after herself. If she didn't, he might... refuse to have sex with her! The mere thought sent panicking shudders through her, and she redoubled her efforts, chasing down every errant droplet of cum. Her tongue chased the retreating cock into its sheath, licking around the edges of it to make sure she hadn't missed anything. She was a good girl. She cleaned up after herself. She... itched. She needed another fuck. Whimpering, she massaged the sheath and balls, willing the softening shaft to stay hard and give her another ride. It wasn't working. Soon, her well-worn tongue would find its way further down again. If she'd cared to count, she'd know that Blake was unlikely to manage another hard-on that day. But even if she'd known, she would still have spent the rest of the day desperately, pleadingly trying to please him in every way available to her, hoping against hope that he would take the itching away just one more time...

It was three days later that Blake sensed Anitra's presence leaving the magical confines of Mirage City's walls. This came as no small relief to him - she had been gone for over a week and he was just starting to think that he had no choice but to head out on some night-time caravan raids to replenish the flagging supply of food and water left in the glass-cave. And, of course, he'd also been starting to worry about her. Over their telepathic link, however, she reassured him that she was hale and hearty, had retrieved the tablet-fragment and was carrying some extra supplies to boot. With a grin, he shook the slavegirl off of his stomach, where she'd been trying to tease his cock out of its sheath as always, and rolled over to approach the cave's entrance expectantly. The girl rolled off, and stumbled back into a corner of the cave, a fearful and desperate look on her face.

Shortly after, Anitra slid nimbly down the incline into the cavern, carrying two large barrels over her shoulders and a backpack that smelled deliciously of dried meats on her back. She was wearing a simple, white robe, different from the one she'd left in - to his sharp eyes, it looked subdued, yet expensive. The kind of thing a very rich person who didn't want to show off his wealth TOO obviously might wear.

Anitra quickly deposited her supplies on the floor, and the two of them embraced, sharing a deep kiss as they reveled in being reunited after so long apart. Soon afterwards, they were sitting on the floor, catching each other up on what had happened in the meantime - in general terms, anyway. "It wasn't all bad, or all good..." Anitra said with a shrug. "I had some difficulty at first, but eventually, I managed to connect with the Sultan, and he gave me the tablet-piece. Even let me go without complaint, though he insisted on giving me some supplies along for the ride, AND this nice robe." She plucked at the sturdy fabric.

Blake nodded. "Seems like he was an okay chap after all, huh? Well, I've been keeping busy myself, trying to keep that slavegirl you got me from getting bored." He gave a toothy grin in the direction of the corner where she was still sitting, but the smile froze somewhat on his face when he saw the look of despair and terror on her face, and noticed that she was shaking like a leaf in the wind. Anitra followed his glance. "Huh... she's really still alive? I'm more than a little surprised... though she doesn't seem to be in very good shape." Blake shrugged. "She's been doing fine up until just now - climbing all over me whenever she wasn't passed out in a corner, trying to get me worked up for another round. Maybe she figures that now that YOU'RE back, there'll be no more need for her... and hey, she's right, isn't she? It's not like we can take her along for the ride."

Anitra rubbed her chin thoughtfully, then got to her feet and went over to the girl. The previously demure slave looked up at her with anger burning in her eyes, and a half-twitch in her limbs made Anitra's warrior instincts call out a warning. This girl was definitely crazy, and apparently hated her. Nonetheless, she kneeled down and let her eyes scan the buck-naked girl's body, making note of the pattern of stretch-marks on her stomach before wrenching her legs apart and glancing at the wrecked, scorched opening between her legs.

Reaching down resolutely, she plunged her fist directly into the girl's pussy and saw her resistance melt away instantly. The slavegirl groaned and pushed her hips down harder unto Anitra's fist. Experimentally, she pushed back against her, and her eyebrows rose in surprise as the girl's pussy swallowed her arm easily up to the elbow. It wasn't even particularly tight around her arm. The girl's shivering grew still, and her eyes became glassy as she moved against Anitra's muscular arm, humping it violently despite a noteable shortage of lubrication.

Adding up the hints, Anitra let the girl continue while turning her head to look back at Blake. "You've gone and broke this girl, loverboy. I don't think she's afraid of getting eaten now that her usefulness is up - she's just afraid of losing access to that big-ass cock of yours." Blake replied with a rakish grin. "Well, I've been known to have that effect on women, from time to time." Anitra rolled her eyes while Blake stomped closer, looking curiously over her shoulder as the girl continued to hump her arm with a kind of deliberate desperation. "But what are we gonna do with her? I mean... I still COULD eat her. It'd be more merciful than just leaving her on her own in the desert with no supplies or clothes." Anitra glanced back at the girl. Despite that rather dire statement, she hadn't reacted at all, and simply continued the insistent movements of her pelvis while staring empty-eyed into space.

A slow smile spread across Anitra's face. "Actually... I think I have a better idea." With a slurping sound, she pulled her arm out of the girl's pussy, which had just started to build up a decent layer of juices, ignoring the half-choked sob this elicited. Standing up, she went to rummage through Blake's saddlebags, pulling out her sword and armor before finding what she was looking for - parchment, ink and a quill. Basic adventuring-supplies that she'd picked up when shopping for their quest, and never used 'till now. Blake's flexible neck followed her around, and he looked curiously over her should as she wrote a short letter.

"Dear Sultan Haroun Al-Rashid... or should I call you Aladdin, since we're married and all? I'm sending you a little gift to remember me by. I bought this girl to keep my dear Blake company while I was languishing in your harem, and somehow, she's survived the experience. Do with her what you will... but if you don't mind a suggestion, I think she might be well-suited to helping Abu, ah, 'release the pressure', wasn't it? She certainly seems to have acquired a taste for overwhelming size." Folding the paper, she sealed it with a drop of wax - helpfully melted by a tiny gout of dragonfire - and withdrew a small seal from her robes. "Another gift from the Sultan." She said by way of explanation while pressing it into the wax, leaving the Royal Seal of Mirage City stamped into the rapidly-cooling substance. "He said it would get me into the city easily if I ever wanted to visit again and also invited me to send him a letter now and then. I don't think he expected one this quickly, but surprises are good for immortal old geezers, right?"

She went back to the corner, pulled the slavegirl to her feet, and stuck the letter in her hand. The girl look confused, but Anitra fixed her eyes with a penetrating gaze, and spoke slowly to make sure the message got through. "Listen to me. From this cave, walk directly east." She pointed in the appropriate direction. "You'll reach a gate before you know it - show this letter to the guards there. They'll take you to a friend of mine. He'll look after you." The girl tore her eyes away from Anitra's and looked over her shoulder at Blake, a moaning sound emerging from her half-closed lips. Anitra grabbed her face and pulled it back. "Hey! Pay attention. He'll LOOK AFTER you. He's got a friend with a huuuuuuge cock. Maybe even bigger than Blake's. You'll get what you need." The girl's eyes widened and she nodded rapidly, the despair on her face dispelled for now.

Fifteen minutes later, Anitra had changed into her armor and stuffed the traveling-cloak into the saddlebags. A few sweeps of Blake's mighty wings had blown the sand from the canvas roof of the cave, and it had been rolled up and packed down along with the rest of their supplies. Now, they were aloft again, both enjoying the feeling of the wind as they climbed higher on the heat-plumes rising from the desert. Below them, they could see the slavegirl, still naked, wandering shakily in the direction Anitra had indicated, clinging to the letter in her hand. The thought of how the gate-guards would react to a lone, naked girl showing up with a sealed letter for the Sultan himself amused them both as they turned their back on her, gliding silently away from the city that had once been called Agrabah.

"So, we're only missing ONE fragment of the tablet now, right?" Asked Blake, once again taking advantage of the stillness of the air around them. Anitra nodded. "Yep. We've got all but one. And I don't even need to consult Lezard's papers to remember the last place: The Slith Caves." He craned his neck so that she could see his resulting grimace. "Caves. Great. I don't have a lot of good memories from caves. They're trouble, in my opinion." Anitra grinned at him. "Actually, my love, I think you might like these. For one, they're supposedly huge, so we won't have any trouble fitting your broad ass in there. For another, the locals are a civilization of lizardmen who consider dragons to be 'divine manifestations of the lizard-gods', more or less."

Blake's grimace turned into a grin. "Gods, you say? About time we got the recognition we deserve! Certainly sounds like this'll be a walk in the park." Anitra's grin widened in response. "Well, it's no coincidence. I planned to save the best for last, y'know? In most of the stories I've heard, about heroes seeking several pieces of something, the LAST one always turns into a huge disaster, probably 'cuz it's more dramatic that way. Well, this way, even if something DOES go wrong, at least we'll be amongst friends. Or, y'know, fanatical worshippers. Same difference." Blake eagerly nodded. "Indeed, indeed... I do believe you're right. I might like this cave-adventure after all..."

The End

Don't miss out on the hunt for the final tablet-piece in the upcoming Chapter 16 of the DragonRider Chronicles: Caverns of the Slith!