Commission #1 for AllenS
This is one of two commissions that were paid for by AllenS, here on SoFurry. The setting and characters were thought up by him. I hope you all enjoy it, as I had a lot of fun writing it.
The hunt was supposed to go smoothly. A trophy to claim and a spectacle to show the king on his visit, but the stallion, dressed in splinted leather, with chain covering his joints, a warhammer resting on his belt, felt a sense of trepidation as he followed his master. The iron collar around his throat chafed as he swallowed, and he kept walking, the cleated shoes giving his hooves firm purchase on the soft ground.
Looking back, he saw the rest of the party. The three other knights, each with their own servants, laughing and boating and drinking, they would muss everything up. He shook his head, eyeing the laden cart, loaded with manacles as thick as his wrist and chains a big around as his upper arm. It took three men; two pulling it by chains and one pushing and steering it through the wooded terrain.
He turned back forward and kept silent. Slaves were not kept for their opinions. He reached up to adjust the collar, hinged at the back, the front riveted together. It couldn't be removed without the proper tools and skilled hands. The horse just kept moving.
It took them three hours to reach their destination. A cliff wall, the entrance to an old mining tunnel twenty paces up. The slave stood aside and waited as the others discussed how best to ascend, and eventually, they decided. A young vulpine bow was chosen to climb the wall, and a rope was tied around his waist. He made his way up with a heavy iron hook and a hammer. Minutes later, the boy appeared over the edge, signaling.
The ascent began. Everyone lined up, and one-by-one climbed the rope, pulling themselves up it, then helping the next man over the edge. As the last man up, the horse tied the free end of the rope around the bindings and climbed up, the others helping him hall the massive chains up the wall. They dragged them along the floor, the three who moved the cart, as the rest made their way toward their target, in the depths of the cave.
The tunnel was deep, and by the time they reached their quarry, the beast was awake, golden eyes gleaming in the light of their lamps. It laughed, lifting its head and standing, its lithe body covered in orange-ish red scales, each one gleaming like gemstones. Its talons rose and fell as it stalked closer, and not a single man felt like boasting. The stallion's master cursed them all and drew his sword, the horse hefting his hammer, they moved forward.
The others finally gathered their courage and one of them charged, yelling loudly, thrown aside by a lash of the beast's tail, his cuirass dented. The horse ran forward and lifted his hammer while the creature's eyes were turn, my steel shoes made noise, and a back-hand from the being's paw sent him across the floor.
The stallion didn't remember fainting, but when he woke, he saw the beast, bound and staked to the ground at the base of the cliff. It must have taken a long time to subdue the beast without killing it, as dusk was falling, and the men seemed to have made camp, gathered around a fire. He stood, and looked for his hammer, and noticed his armour missing. He wore only a leather shirt and trousers. They had even prised the shoes from his hooves.
He moved forward, swaying, and called out. The other knights looked his way, only two of them left. One of them spit and the other stood, walking toward the horse and shoving him back toward the beast. "Your master is dead, slave. It was your responsibility to protect him, and in that you failed. Your life is forfeit, wretch." He moved back toward the fire, the stallion blowing out his nostrils and moving to lay in the darkness. The dragon laughed, eyeing him, an iron band around his muzzle, a chain around his chest, holding his wings down against his back, tail bound to a collar around his neck, talons bound so that he could walk, but not very quickly.
"You laugh when you are bound hand and foot. Muzzled and grounded." He shakes his head and ignores the beast, rolling onto his side.
A forced, growling voice could be heard. "And you are condemned for my actions." He laughed again. "We can help one another. You could fight them, and win. And release me. And then the both of us can leave this place, no?" The beast was breathing heavy, the effort of speaking through a clenched jaw after moving over a ton of iron through a mile-long tunnel and down a vertical wall was a bit much.
The horse pretended not to hear, but the idea ran through his mind in circles. He pretended to sleep as his thoughts kept him awake. He heard the others stand and make their way to bed, a guardsman put on watch. He stood up and walked deeper into the woods, taking a deep breath. He was unsure of where the keys were, but as he made his way through the darkness, as quiets as he could, he watched. Surely one of the knights had them. He sighed and picked up a rock, heavy and veined with ore, and hurled it, striking the guard in the head, knocking him unconscious and leaving what would make a jagged scar.
Moving into the camp, he looked into the tents, one holding one of the knights, a lupine, and the vulpine boy. The two snug in bed together, asleep. As he stepped in, he looked over piles of gear, in pouches and knapsacks. He forced himself not to make a noise. He slipped out of the tent and moved on.
In the next tent lay the servants. He didn't bother with it. In the next he found the other knight, alone, and rummaged about quietly, sighing and looking to the sleeping male, moving his coverings back. He was asleep in his dressing gear, chain and leather, and a keyring hung at his waist. He grabbed it, drawing the knight's dagger and slicing the leather cord holding it. He dropped the knife, grabbing a sword and slipping away. He ran back to the beast, grabbing its muzzle and fumbling to find the padlock.
Those golden eyes opened, looking at the stallion, the corners of the dragon's mouth curling up. He tried three different keys before the lock opened, and moved on. "Roll." He prompted, the dragon leaning and exposing his belly, the horse undoing the lock there, then the one at his neck, the finally the locks on each leg.
The creature stood, stretching its wings out and grinning. "Such an obedient little mare..." The taunt was obvious.
"Now we leave." The horse said firmly, grabbing the stolen sword and moving into the woods, the dragon laughing, but following, tired, limping. "If we can make two miles tonight, we should be able to get away. I didn't wake anyone." He kept walking as he spoke, taking a deep breath to stretch his lungs, his stomach turning from the blow he had taken in the fight.
"You should have killed them." The dragon said, laughing, easily keeping pace even while limping.
"There is the difference between us." The horse said, shaking his head.
"There's a lot more than that, little mare." The mocking tone was still there, even as that muzzle drew close to the horse's ear. "You see, I do what I wish. I am free. You do what you are told." He chuckled and lurched forward, pushing the horse with a foretalon, knocking him onto his front. The slave rolled over, looking up, just realizing how large this creature was.
He shuddered, looking at the beast, taller than the horse himself at the shoulders, a mass of muscle, each tendon and swell of fibre visible through the fine, scaled hide. His heart raced as the scent of the thing washed over him, their eyes meeting, the creature's teeth bared in a wide grin. "Do not compare us. You will simply find yourself to be lacking." The beast passed over him, moving on, leaving the horse to recover on the forest floor, heart pounding, head throbbing lightly. He pushed himself up, forcing himself to ignore the stirring in his groin, and followed silently.
He didn't bother to keep time, or to watch their pace, but they walked through the night. When the sun began to rise, the dragon stopped, rather suddenly, and laid down, spreading himself out and rolling onto his side.
The stallion had been alone with his thoughts for a good while, and they seemed to gravitate around the creature laid out before him. He approached the beast and stumbled, nearly falling. He was exhausted, he realized. Walking through the night with only a few hours of unconsciousness for rest would exhaust anyone.
"Come here." The dragons spoke firmly, and the horse didn't bother to argue, walking toward the being, jumping as he was grabbed in a talon, pulling him in close and grabbing his head, jaws lunging forward, latching onto the hinge of the horse's collar and biting down, forcing the pin out with a tooth and pulling it out with his teeth, releasing the man afterward. "I trust you can do the rest." He laughed at the horse, who rested now on his knees, shaking, trying to catch his breath.
How long he was there, he couldn't say. His mind and body craved sleep. Eventually, his arms, sluggish as they were, obeyed, and reached up, pulling the collar open and throwing it into the brush, the horse panting, laying down to rest, his eyes closing.
When he woke, he felt weak, but he could feel the energy that had returned. He took a breath and stat up, looking about, his stomach rumbling. He looked at himself, and felt an odd pang of shame at his form. The horse was strong, powerful, but his muscle was hidden under a blanket of fat. He felt... inadequate. Next to that beast, what was he? He pushed himself to his feet and saw the beast lying there, still asleep, the sun lighting up his form, warming him.
Walking over, he sat back down next to the dragon, leaning against his belly, feeling the warmth of his scale and the sun, reaching up to rub at the band of bald skin around his neck, where his collar had chafed for years, and chuckled to himself. He looked at the creature's legs, seeing that tail-tip twitch. He remembered the dragon's words; "I do what I wish."
He turned around, laying his hands gently on the creature's band-like scales, feeling them under his thick, blunt fingers, slowly reaching downward, along the dragon's underside, moving toward his hips, his hand reaching between the beast's powerful thighs, his fingers brushing over a fold of scale and flesh that seemed to relax at his touch.
His heart was racing again, and he chuckled to himself, shaking his head as he kneaded gently, curling a finger to explore that vent, encountering the pointed tip of his shaft, the appendage pulsing, filling with blood as he urged it out, pulling the laces of his trousers to free his own emerging shaft, shivering as he felt the dragon stir, his neck growing heated.His hand didn't cease it motions, stroking what it could, his finger rubbing the still-hidden tip in circles, his free hand stroking slowly over the scales of his belly.
With a sudden pulse of blood, the dragon's shaft surged forth, pushing out of its vent and into his hand. It didn't seem to mind the calluses that covered his fingers as he cupped that head, stroking over it, rubbing its underside with his palm as it pushed itself forth, throbbing in his hand as he grew more rigorous, wrapping his fingers around that shaft, stroking along it eagerly, licking his lips as his fingers massaged and stroked, feeling the thick studs that crowned the head of that shaft, plucking at them, running over the ridge of scales on its underside, catching on each one, making it twitch.
When the dragon's tail curled around his waist and lifted him, he gasped, his shaft twitching in the open air, hanging full from his sheath, flaccid but excited. His trousers fell away and the dragon rolled onto his back, dropping the horse onto his belly, laughing. "Such a good little mare..."
Recovering, the horse, now straddling the beast, reached out to grip that shaft once more, this time in both hands, its full length pulsing, wide enough at the base that his fingers refused to meet. Both hands rose and fell in time, alternating, left hand gripping near the base, right hand stroking up to tease his head, watching the slick, clear fluid leak from its tip.
An urging push from that tail guided his muzzle down, his lips wrapping around that point, shivering and swallowing that thick liquid, hot and sweet, a new taste, unique in every tone. His hand kept working, gripping, kneading, massaging and stroking as his jaw opened farther, his teeth brushing that head as it slipped past them, his thick, flat tongue swirling about that head slowly, his breath hot and heavy through his nostrils, raking the fingers of his right hand up the belly of that shaft, the beast's tail twitching, a shudder running through its abdomen from the sensation, a heated groan filling the air around them. Its tail writhed and it let out a heavy huff, hips arching, toes curling, popping as a hot surge of fluid filled his mouth.
He swallowed, the dragon's semen heavy in texture and taste, leaving an oily feeling in his throat and on his tongue. He tried his best, but he couldn't keep up, and was forced back by the force of the beast's orgasm, coating his muzzle and chest as it leaked from his maw, a final, weak spurt spilling onto the puddle under him. He panted, trying to catch his breath, his stomach feeling full. The scent of the stuff was everywhere, enough to make him dizzy.
His own shaft, ignored, stood erect, his flare pulsing, his blunt head leaking, the equine rod begging for attention as he rested, panting, staring at the mess that had been made, that bright red shaft twitch as it slowly fell limp to the dragon's belly, discharging the last drop of semen as it retreated, sated.
He could hear and feel the dragon's breath, panting just as hard as he, rising and falling in time with the beast's lungs, his orbs aching for release. Pushing himself off, he stumbled, his legs weak. He turned around, looking at the creature, chuckling and licking his lips as he sat down, wrapping a hand around his shaft, gripping its base and shivering, slowly bringing his hand up, just past that ring of flesh a little less than half-way up, and back down, closing his eyes.
He heard the beast moving, but ignored it, stroking himself slowly until a blunt muzzle shoved him back. Falling back, his eyes springing open to see the maw of that beast open, its tongue, long and slender, though still as wide as three of the horse's fingers snake out to coil around his rod, squeezing and slithering about it, wrapping around its base and milking it, forcing his head to flare out, wide and swollen, pulsing visibly.
The stallion new that he wouldn't last long, his eyes drifting closed once more, enjoying the sensation of that slippery tongue massaging his shaft, lapping up his pre, squeezing, milking, tickling and pulling, working him closer and closer to his edge, his thick fingers digging into the dirt, back arching, as finally, after what seemed like hours, his sac tightened, pulling his heavy spheres up into his body as his urethra bulged out, a hot spray of white, water seed spilling out, splattering over the dragon's face, once, twice, the third gushing straight into the beast's mouth, his lips curling, that tongue pulling off, squeezing, milking out every last drop of the stallion's seed before dropping that shaft, letting it fall limp.
The pair rested for a time, and then washed themselves in a stream coming down off of the mountain. The cool water felt good on the horse's skin, and washed away the seed of horse and dragon alike.
They moved on, stallion atop dragon, mounted at the base of his neck. The ride wasn't necessarily smooth, the dragon's rolling gait felt like riding in a small boat, but he was no longer limping, and seemed to have more energy than the day before. The two moved around the mountain, and then turned north, leaving behind the knights, and slavery, and doing their best to stay ahead, and remain unseen.