Dragon Offering
This was a commission for Cornel.
Dragon Offering
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DRAGON OFFERING
by Iscin
This is a work of erotic fiction.
All characters portrayed within are 18 years of age or over.
All rights reserved © 2015.
CHAPTER ONE
The Nature Of Peasantry
Yellow light turns to a warm amber glow as the sun hangs above the horizon. Wisps of cloud accentuate the changing colours in the sky. From the low rising mound that serves for a nascent hilltop Renamon feels serene and collect. Shi should not feel so content, so happy. In this calm before the storm shi knows what is about to come. Shi knew the moment that bloated man announced hir selection for this year's ceremony, this year's sacrifice. There were many candidates of course, there always are for the sacrifice. Any female or hermaphrodite is suitable. However the elders of the village usually select someone with as few kin or friends as possible. Such a choice minimises the fallout from disgruntled peasants left behind. Renamon has nobody in this life, so shi gets some assistance into the next one.
After half an hour of standing up shi has managed to work hir way down the wooden spike. Now shi is sat upon the grass and dirt, though still quite firmly bound to the spike itself. Maybe with a little effort shi can break one of the ropes, but the sun is already setting. There is no time for an escape. Even if shi managed to cut hirself free somehow the dragon or dragons that will be coming for hir shortly will easily track hir down. The villagers have done this so many times, there is so very little room for escape or error given. Of course maybe there is still a chance. An opportunity to escape if shi can come up with an alternative. There are legends and myths concerning dragons and their ability and willingness to converse with non-dragons. It is rare, but right now it is the only opportunity for a reprieve that comes to mind. So shi is deep in thought thinking of an excuse, a bargain, any reason to not be rendered as a sacrifice for whatever draconic whims they have when all of a sudden shi hears a noise on the wind.
A sound not unlike that of an especially energetic rush of wind reaches hir sensitive pointy ears. It grows in tensity, like shockwaves one after the other until it almost sounds like the crack of a whip. However unlike a whip crack this sound is booming and reverberates across the sky above and the countryside below. Renamon quickly rises up again, jerking back and forth against the spike to stretch hir legs out. Shi begins scanning the horizon with hir eyes, looking over hir shoulders and into the distance. The sound is coming from everywhere and nowhere, but there must be a visual cue somewhere. Sure enough Renamon catches the silhouette of the thing approaching in the clouds up above. There is still enough light, though such illumination is rapidly diminishing. Here it comes.
The monster's wings are more like leather than scales, though that amy just be the years making them blend together. Its torso is almost as long as its tail, though the tail just manages to win out in that comparison. Two arms or forelegs, and two powerful hind legs. This is no wyvern, no pitiful half-attempt at a beast that up until recently was considered a myth and a dark legend. No, this is a dragon. Raw, primal and bursting with power. Renamon watches it through narrowed eyes, holding back to the sinking feeling in the pit of hir stomach. These will probably be hir last moments. And these will be hir last thoughts. If there was someone who cared about hir, who would miss hir, those are where hir thoughts would wander right now. But the truth is everyone who shi ever thought cared about hir rejected the vixen the moment the announcement was made. Shi is to be their sacrifice, no attachments are wanted.
As the dragon grows closer the sound its wings are making become a distinct clapping vibration. Every beat of its wings sends a new not so gentle shockwave through the air that serve as its vanguard, heralding the arrival of the apex predator of these lands. Renamon averts hir eyes now. Looking at the thing is not helping hir from holding back the self-pity. These final moments should not be spent feeling sorry for hirself. Instead shi tries to ignore the sound and thinks back, even before the village, when shi had no home and no people to belong to. Maybe there was something or someone back then who will remember hir; who will miss hir. But the beating sound is louder still, it is almost upon the mound of dirt that counts for a hill. So Renamon pulls back from hir introspection and once more stares down hir approaching death.
Everything about the beast is massive. Stories and descriptions do not quite justify it. From its ivory horns larger than a broadsword each to its flexible tail the length of several oak trunks over. This thing does not belong in this time and place, but some other long forgotten land and era; one that was dominated by such beasts. As it finally comes to rest only a few metres away from Renamon shi has to close hir eyes and mouth lest the dust its wings kick up choke and blind hir. It takes a good minute before the debris starts to settle and Renamon can see hir executioner again. He, she, or it, has the face of a demon. That is hir first impression of it anyway. There is a maw there that can swallow entire cows in one gulp. Exactly how shi can be a worthwhile morsel Renamon does not understand.
The colour of the thing is something frightful. Like charred black bark of a tree. Leathery wings give way to the cracked surface of its main body, along with its large and powerful legs. Even its neck is comprised of the same skin that looks broken or even diseased. Yet even so Renamon has no doubt that this thing possesses the kind of robustness that makes its hide nearly impregnable. And as for the rest of it, well the damn thing is large and muscular enough that there is no doubt it can topple towers and kingdoms if it so desires. But all that it, and the others in this land, ask of the peasants is a lone sacrifice every four years. A small price to pay for the many, but a terrible fate for the one. As it peers down at hir with ruby red eyes shi averts hir own, turning the other cheek even as hir tails shiver and hir legs tremble.
This is it.
"What's your name?" The words rumble, yet not in the air.
"W-W-What?" Renamon stutters and turns back to stare at the leviathan looking on down at hir.
"Your name. Give me it." The dragon's mouth is remaining shut, yet these words, this voice can be heard and felt. Renamon quickly realises that it must be communicating telepathically, or some variation thereof. Either that or hir mind has fractured under the stress of hir own impending oblivion.
"R-Renamon!" Shi shrieks more then simply says.
"Would you like a ride, Renamon?"
***
Just how exactly Renamon is keeping hir bowel movements to hirself during this terrifying ride is and will forever be a complete mystery. Shi is tucked away beneath the scaly behemoth with talons large enough to carry whole horse carts. From the rushing air to the dizzying view looking down the digimon has hir senses overwhelmed. After a good five minutes or more the screaming with which shi had started this journey with has died down. But a hoarse throat does not soften the way that hir heart is thumping in the cage of hir chest, as if working itself up to an early retirement. With either arm shi is trying to get a firmer hold on the talons or scaly legs further up of the monster carrying hir. Although hir grasping actions are quite unnecessary as the warm and almost leather like texture of the talon digits grip hir body with practised ease.
At the twenty minute mark, or just about, Renamon has reached a new level of acceptance. Instead shi is almost enjoying the ride, the height no longer bothering hir as shi has grown accustomed to it now. This bizarre sense of peace comes to hir just in time as the dragon breaks past down through a smattering of clouds, its great wings changing its direction as they near the beast's mountain lair. Their destination consists of blackened rock almost like obsidian in appearance, although as they draw closer Renamon can see very obvious scorch marks around the edges of the entryway which they are approaching. Shi guesses accurately that the dragons shape their homes using dragon-fire and other means, turning them into their legendarily night impenetrable fortresses. On the exterior there are even some runic markings, glyphs that no doubt serve as signs for other dragons and any learned mortal willing and capable of interpreting the symbols.
In similar fashion to before the dragon pitches down and gradually slows as it comes to land on a purpose formed clearing just outside its abode's entrance. The dragon is immensely careful to the point of obsession in articulating its terrifying claws so as to place Renamon upright onto the scorched rock just before and underneath the scaled monster. Renamon stumbles as hir paws touch the ground beneath them and takes a couple shaky paces forward before now turning around and looking back and up at hir captor. Shi brings hir arms up and pats down the fur along hir arms and face which bristled up in the airy journey here; in the process reminding hirself of the lone article of simple sack cloth covering hir body. The peasants did not think shi would be needing any possessions for what was to befall hir. As for the dragon, it has not spoken to hir since that first time. Renamon expects some kind of announcement or command of hir to be made next, although maybe shi had just been losing hir mind?
"Well?" The voice both loud and soft says somewhere in hir head. Shi physically recoils even after expecting it. Somehow shi is aware of the direction of the words coming from the massive creature standing in front and over hir as it peers down.
"W-What?" Shi replies with another question.
"Aren't you going to go inside? I am used to you mammals being curious. Even when you are trying to hold your bladder." The voice mocks in a simulated tone that almost passes for jovial.
Renamon slowly turns to look at the cave entrance behind hir. The darkness is feeling as though it is staring right on back at hir. An abyss by any other name. Hir terror is pushing Renamon in either direction, either away from the dragon behind hir, or away from the cavernous pit in front. Yet in truth does shi really have any choice here beyond going forward? The rational part of hirself knows this, and also knows that any chance shi has at survival will be to play along for so long as necessary. These creatures have their limits of a sort, and even have to sleep. Gods shi hopes that dragons sleep. So it stands to reason that there will be opportunity however slim to make an escape attempt. Not however is not that time, and terrified though shi most definitely is, the hermaphrodite has simply got to play along for now.
"O-Oh. Okay then. I guess you want me to see your trophies or something. Haha." Shi says, hir voice quaking from the first syllable to the last. With hir best paw forward the literal damsel enters the lair of the beast.
CHAPTER TWO
The Hall
The dragon's lair is like nothing Renamon had imagined. After passing through a darkly lit passage that serves as an entryway shi had come to a shear rock wall with a strange large circle carved into it. Hir dragon captor who had maintained close proximity behind had done something or other and the circle dissolved to allow passage into the room beyond. Now shi is standing at the precipice of the largest hall, fit for any king, that shi has ever seen, read or passingly heard described. There is no crude design here, as very clearly handcrafted masonry abounds from ceiling supporting pillars to arching doorways large enough for a dragon to comfortably pass through into hallways and rooms beyond. However the most impressive feature of the great hall are the massive piles, veritable rolling hills of gold, jewels and precious artefacts of every sort. From refined precious metals to artisans artifices there ostensibly appears to be every kind of valuable inanimate object collected here.
"It's... amazing." Renamon says in a hushed voice. Only aware of the dragon by hir peripheral.
"Mmm, that it is. It took the euclid ones decades to finish it. Note the intricate carvings on the pillars. Glyphs of power give the hall a very real life of its own." The dragon's words do not make much sense to Renamon, but shi is impressed all the same.
Hir host takes on the role of a museum curator as shi starts to explore the great hall. It explains the meaning behind the art, the function behind strange artefacts and even talks about some of the previous owners of certain very obvious artifices created for creatures much like Renamon. The surrealness of it all is nearly enough for hir to become forgetful of the situation. In fact shi may even begin to feel comfortable if not for the dragon's proscenia both inside and outside of hir own head. As the guided tour goes on Renamon finds hirself become disinterested in the many treasures of the hall, and more interested in hir captor and guide. Attempting very brief looks shi tries to figure out anything shi can about it, starting with the dragon's gender. Although its voice belies a masculine sex it is still so hard to be sure.
"What's your name?" Renamon asks with only the faintest of warbles. Shi is surprised that hir confidence has grown so quickly.
"A question both direct and personal. My, aren't you growing sure of yourself." The dragon comments in a purposefully mocking tone, though in truth the beast is pleased with this. "You may know me as Anxo. And if you were wondering what is between my hind legs, I am male."
Anxo's followup is damning. The vulpine captive cringes and averages hir face. Shi is unsure if the dragon is inordinately perceptive, capable of mind-reading along with psychic projection of his voice or if shi is just that much of a fool as to be caught staring. Just like that shi is reminded how small and pitiful shi is to Anxo. However friendly he may come across he is still a dragon and those stories are not all hyperbole. But this only makes hir more curious, more specifically about why shi is still alive. Surely there is a reason to all of this. And now understanding dawns. Whilst shi has been for the most part preoccupied admiring and investigating the treasures of the great hall, Anxo has been watching hir constantly, or just about. His ruby eyes have simply never left hir.
"Oh you brought it after all." Another psychic projection says but this time of a distinctly different psionic cadence. Both Renamon and Anxo look to see a second dragon, this one of yellow ochre step into the hall from one of the arched doorways. "Is shi for now or later?"
"Iria!" Anxo says and turns to start walking towards the other dragon, his tail arcing over Renamon's head.
Renamon realises now that dragons must throw their "voice" in an indiscriminate fashion. Either that or both of them are consciously including hir in their conversation. Shi watches and listens as the two dragons nuzzle into one another's necks, an almost cute greeting if not for their fearsome appearances. Through hir ongoing observations Renamon learns that Iria is a female, though not mated or Anxo. The pair of them appear to be somewhat old friends and not above making snide jokes at one another. However the smalltalk, as that what it is, does not last long. Iria is interested to know about Renamon, whom she readily refers to as their toy and plaything, neither of which serve to bolster Renamon's confidence as the dragons return their attention to hir.
"The villagers were very generous this time. I haven't confirmed yet but I believe that it is a hermaphrodite." Anxo tells his friend even as she makes a beeline straight for where Renamon is slouching amongst the mountains of treasure.
"You mean you haven't checked?" Iria says.
"I was waiting just for you." Anxo says, almost coming across as a beta male here.
Suddenly Iria extends her right forearm and swipes at Renamon. The tiny mammal barely has time to blink and expects not to be opening hir eyes again. But Iria's swipe is shockingly precise as her talons cut through the sackcloth that up until now has been lending some modesty to Renamon. Paralysed by hir own terror, Renamon stands still as the clothes on hir back fall down and crumple. Now exposed Renamon's nipples perk up at the change in temperature, although overall the hall is actually a little too warm for a mammal like hir. With red eyes just like those on Anxo, the ochre dragoness peers down at exotic mammal. They travel down hir chest before pausing on that which lies between hir legs.
"We're going to need to scale that up a bit." Iria says with all casualness.
"I've already got just the incantation. But when are the others arriving?"
"Any moment now."
CHAPTER THREE
That Time Of Year
At the very moment of recognition something inside of Renamon breaks. An exotic mixture of erotic interest and terrifying dread grips hir from the inside and spreads out until hir bushy tail is shivering in agitation. Both dragon's are very clearly in an amorous state of mind that is being complimented by physical arousal. However it is Anxo, the male, who has the most obvious lustful interest by some sixty centimetres and then some. The throbbing black log of male flesh that is pushing out from the slit between his hind legs looks as long and as thick as one of Renamon's own legs, and it may yet have some growing to do. Renamon's fight of flight response has become stuck on freeze. Little does shi realise just quite the gravity of hir situation though.
Suddenly an invisible force, not unlike a solid though well padded wall, slams into Renamon. It pushes hir down onto hir back and starts pinning hir there. Of course shi struggles at first, but it soon becomes evident that there is no way to counter what must be a magical invocation of some kind. Even hir legs are being held apart, spreading out hit vulva tucked away underneath hir sheath. Hir breasts are bouncing up and down to the timing of hir panicked breathing, which is also pressing them against the invisible barrier giving the odd visual of them being squished against what is seemingly nothing but empty air.
This is it. This is how I die. Renamon thinks to hirself as the male dragon steps up, his immense shadow casting down upon hir. Shi cranes hir neck up, attempting to get a better view and in the process pressing hir ears and the top of hir head against the barrier spell. Looking at hir approaching skewer was probably not a good idea as hir eyes bug out at the sight of the thing. A dragon's penis is many things, with many facets along its textured surface, but petite and smooth are two things it is most definitely not. Even without ludicrous difference in proportions relative to any one of hir orifices, Renamon is scared just by the sight of the spines and ridges along its surface. This thing looks like it can carve hir insides out in a dozen different ways.
"P-P-Pa-Please don't do this!" Renamon warbles, unable to even keep hir voice steady.
"Don't worry little thing." Iria tells the mammal whilst watching Anxo start lining himself up. "It really won't be as bad as it looks. But if you struggle we might need to punish you. So just lay still and think of home or something."
Home. The suggestion summons memory, from images to tastes. A place Renamon had not seen for so very long. It serves as a surpassingly effective distraction at the moment of penetration. The tip of the spear pushes against hir vulva lips and the vulpine screams out at the belly of the scaly beast above hir. Even being a shear point the organ rapidly expands, its girth presence filling hir up faster than shi has ever known before. Feelings like nothing that Renamon has ever felt before, or imagined shi could ever feel even in a fantasy, flood hir nervous system. Muscles in every part of hir body contract and relax, tighten and release. It is almost as if shi is experiencing a seizure as the great dragon forces more and more of himself inside of hir. There is no pacing, no gradual introduction and accommodation of one another here. This is flat out rape with no sugar coating of any kind.
However there is something very unexpected about the experience of being speared by a feral dragon. The fact is though there is pain, it is not the kind of pain one would expect from having their abdomen torn in sunder. Unbelievably, impossibly so, Renamon appears to be taking Anxo whole. None of this is making any sense to hir. Though again the first assumption would be that they have done something to hir with magic, some sort of curse that allows them to rape non-dragons without fear of killing them on the first go. Whatever it is that is holding hir body together there is something even more amazing happening between hir legs. It almost as if a tree trunk is being introduced to a mouse hole. Impossible to fit yet somehow squeezing inside. Renamon feels as though shi is getting dizzy just from looking at it, but perhaps that is just the incredible sensation as shi feels a male dragon hilting deep inside of hir.
"See? I told you little one. Slips in good and easy doesn't it?" Iria is the only one talking now. The only sounds from Anxo are the loud shunting grunts that one would expect of a mating dragon.
Still pinned, just as much under the black dragon himself as by the magic barrier Renamon is ravished. Forwards and backs, to and fro Anxo ploughs heartily. There is no complete way to describe the experience. For with every motion, there is a reaction of flooding endorphins and teased pain receptors. Renamon arches hir back against the not at all comfortable pile of gold coins beneath here, just as well that the precious metal warms quickly in the already heated hall. This relishing of the erogenous and completely unnatural way with which this damsel is having hir draconic virginity taken is soon to change though. Growing bored with this position Anxo suddenly rears back. With this manoeuvre both his dick and the person wrapped around it are lifted up with the dragon into his upright position.
"Woo!" Renamon exclaims as the invisible barrier dissipates and shi holds out both arms to brace hirself as shi collides with the dragon's belly in an upright position.
"Here, let me help you." Anxo's masculine voice projects before two sets of claws get a firm grip around Renamon.
Now shi really is like a sex toy for the massive monster as he starts to pull hir up and then push hir down. Forcing hir to accept his erection, whilst it throbs and drools inside of hir. There must be an inordinate amount of pre-ejaculate alone pooling inside of hir, though a good deal of that pre-ejaculate is oozing back down, slicking the black tower of male flesh. With each journey back down the pole of living obsidian flesh Renamon had a new series of wails, moaning cries and even some genuine squeaking noises where there was not enough time for hir to get any breath back. And of course during all of this Iria is watching. The vibe she is giving off is almost like that of a proud mother, which only added to the uncomfortableness of and received humiliation of being reduced to a sex toy. Though whether Iria is proud of Renamon or Anxo, that is the ambiguous part; although it is probably a little bit of both.
Slowly but surely the dragon is building up to his climax. Clouds of black smoke billow up from his snout as Anxo's body temperature rapidly rises. This includes not only the talons wrapped around Renamon, but also the organ being plunged deep inside of hir, entering impossible dimensions of space. Shi can feel every degree of heat just as much as shi feels the pressure of that impossibly sized phallus buried to the gilt inside of hir on every thrust. And yet just like the insane proportions, this heat does not scar, but merely excites hir body in ways undreamt of before. Incapable of holding hir own lust in anymore the hermaphrodites own phallus, which has been thrashing around during this period of fox handling, explodes in a fountain of jizm.
Smoke turns into flame as the dragon makes the kind of sound that is normally associated with a great disaster about to befall a population. The ground trembles and soon great torrent of boiling ejaculate starts to be pumped under pressure inside of Renamon. If not for the firm and painful grip of the dragon's both sets of talons the vulpine might be flung off. Even so there is so much backlog of semen from the great beast which is not meant for a species nearly so small and frail that plenty comes washing back down over the monstrous reptile's crotch and oozes down the underside of his tail. Anxo is orgasming in volume, yet whatever trickery has altered Renamon's genitalia shi finds hirself being able to take jus as much as he can give. The sensation of his seed covering the walls of hir womb even register, which sends Renamon through a series of almost convulsive like orgasms all of hir own until hir own loins are dry and hir body hurts all over.
Why are they doing this?
***
Renamon opens hir eyes and finds hirself in a completely different room. Instead of gold and various types of treasure, shi is now surrounded by pillows. A room entirely full of feather stuffed pillows. At least shi is still alive, assuming that is a good thing still. Up above there are lights in the form of luminescent crystals embedded into a rocky ceiling. Obviously shi is still inside of the draconic lair which despite its extravagance possesses rough edges to remind hir of it being a glorified network of caverns. After a moment to psych hirself up, Renamon checks hir body, including hir poor abused snatch. Fingers gingerly press against hir vagina's fleshy lips, brushing past the fur. Amazingly everything seems to be normal. Even hir fur is clean and not caked over in the soggy mess that shi remembers Anxo creating. It is almost enough for hir to wonder if it was all just some incredibly vivid delusion, perhaps a purposefully made illusion by the psionic dragons.
"You're awake again. The timing is acceptable." That is Iria's voice.
The yellow ochre coloured dragoness is poking her head through the arching entrance at the far end of the pillow room, as Renamon is now calling it inside hir own head. Despite still bring naked, and with a couple fingers pressed against hir feminine genitalia, Renamon feels at ease with the female dragon's eyes soaking in the sight, legs splayed and everything. Renamon watches as the great beast slowly approaches, hir massive claws idly ripping open a few of the pillows she is treading on and creating a miniature burst of feathers to appear before settling back down as she walks right on past the mess. Shi should say something but nothing is coming to mind. Exactly what does someone say after being raped by a dragon?
"Where is Anxo?" Renamon finally says, maybe a little too excitedly. Does shi already miss him?
"Playing host to the others." Iria says whilst moving around, begging to circle around the prone Renamon.
"What others?" Renamon asks with some small degree of excitement in hir voice.
"Eager are you? I am not at all surprised. Our very psychic presence must be... intoxicating for you." The projected voice is taking on more sultry tones.
As if on command, or perhaps only just noticing it, Renamon becomes aware of a burgeoning erection from between hir own very legs. At first shi moves hir paws forward in an attempt to obscure the obvious arousal. However shi looks back at the dragoness the hermaphrodite stops. Hir hands hover over hir plump furry sheath as it starts slowly releasing its turgid charge before now falling away and back to either side of hir torso in hir upright position on the small hill of pillows. This is what the dragoness has come for. Realisation dawns upon Renamon signalled by the almost comically slow change in hir facial expression. The dragoness wants hir, and despite the persistent terror of being but a toy to the dragon's whims the thought of mounting the great beast is a tantalising one.
"Come to me." Iria commands whilst turning around, her tail whipping around as it makes a long and dangerous arc barely making clearance over the vulpine's head.
Transfixed by what shi is now seeing, Renamon hurriedly gets up on both feet whilst the dragoness arching her body and lifts her dangerous tail up high overhead. Between both powerful hind legs, the female beast's snatch is tucked away inside of a scaly slit just centimetres away from what Renamon identify's as the reptile's anus. Trepidation is already dissolving into lust as Renamon quickly closes the gap, one paw stroking hir aching erection. The vixen's phallus is canine in nature, from a pointed red tip to a bulbous knot near the base that balloons up at the moment of orgasm. Although never having been dissatisfied with the length and girth of hir male genitalia, the hermaphrodite nevertheless is wondering if what shi wields will be enough for Iria.
The air surrounding the dragoness is visibly hot, heated air bending the light as it passes through. Curious about this Renamon reaches out with a single hand as the dragoness presents herself. Wow. Renamon thinks to hirself as hir fingers press against the outer folds of the monster's nether regions. Iria's vulva lips feel both hot and moist, however the heat is not at all unpleasant and in truth feels more like a hot and ground spice might, more of an irritant that tingles against Renamon's nerve endings underneath the pads of hir digits. Shi joins the first hand with the second now and explores deeper, leaning in to take a heady sniff. The dragon's clittoris is practically marble sized and just like the rest of hir cunt has that same oddly pleasant heat. Emboldened by the welcoming body language of the dragoness Renamon's face grows even nearer. This as is so happens is a mistake.
Without any signal nor warning of any kind Iria's prehensile tail pushes Renamon forward. With near perfect elevation the dragoness successfully gets the vixen to stumble quite literally face first into the dragon's cunt. An unnecessary act but one that the dragoness finds amusing. But quite unexpectedly Renamon not only willingly accepts hir new position as rug muncher underneath the huge female, but with both tiny paws now steady hirself between the beast's ginormous thighs, begins to use hir tongue in that way that only someone similarly equipped can know how to do so. Years of experience with partners of different species and different genders has taught Renamon a few things about how to satisfying hir partner and Iria's pussy is not so different from those who came before, just a whole lot bigger and hotter.
A deep rumbling sound comes from the other end of the dragoness as she adjusts to the tiny slave's oral efforts to appease her. For Renamon the situation feels less as though shi is performing cunnilingus and more like shi is just trying to pay worship to the huge reptile's sex, inadequately proportioned to perform a truly satisfying job. Nevertheless what Renamon lacks in size shi is quickly making up for in that aforementioned experience and with a loud and incredibly frightening thud of her tail Iria clearly shows her own satisfaction with the job being performed back there. After only a minute having passed Renamon is now becoming inundated with a fountain of juices. Receptive to everything that the slave is doing Iria's cunt is overflowing with lubricating fluids, with even the smallest drop possessing a potent scent, let alone the large quantities that are gradually wetting Renamon from ears to tail.
"Enough! I can't wait any longer!" Iria exclaims and moves at speed, felling Renamon down onto the cushioned floor as hir dick knocks back against hir belly and hir chest puppies bounce with erect nipples protruding from underneath the white tufts of fur.
An invisible force like before starts pinning Renamon down. Although this is one that is far from necessary with the willing and rutting mammal. A shadow is cast across the hermaphrodite as the dragon rears up over hir. With her wings spread eagle presumably for some form of balance control the dragoness positions herself before and on top of her little plaything. For a brief moment Renamon is almost snapped out of hir lustful daze, the expectation and dread of the dragoness coming down and crushing the relatively tiny mammal terrifying hir. However as shi feels that strange psionic energy begin to manipulate hir penis, rubbing at the glans around the tip, shi forgets about that very reasonable fear. And now with all of the grace and rescission of a ballerina Iria gently lowers herself, expertly lining up Renamon's throbbing erection with her reptilian snatch.
That strange tingling heat that shi had felt on hir tongue, in hir mouth and around hir whiskered face is now soothingly enveloping hir cock. It is irresistible and so the inevitable happens in the first ten seconds of penetration. Like a teenager on a hairline trigger of his first sexual experience Renamon almost immediately starts to blow hir load. Howling in erotic bliss the vulpine struggles against the invisible force, trying to thrust up so as hir knot will also enter the dragoness; yet shi is held in place. Apart from some heightened rumbling and an agitated growl from Iria, the dragoness remains unfazed and probably a little displeased with the poor performance from her toy.
"Ah, sorry. I ah..." Renamon tries to apologise between hir own heavy panting as the orgasm dies down. But this is not an unexpected eventuality for the devious draconian mistress.
Another perverted example of draconic magic is summoned up with words alien yet terrifying to Renamon. Even before the invocation is psychically uttered Renamon can feel hir dick return to its erect and eager state, even whilst still oozing inside of the first few inches of the dragon's vagina. Incapable of truly viewing the effects Renamon can nevertheless feel them as Iria forces the hermaphrodite's phallus to grow ten fold. There is hardly even the need for movement now as the enchanted organ forces its way up and deep inside of the dragoness above. Renamon is almost going into shock right now as the sensory and sensual overload of multiplying nerves in hir penis charge back down and through the rest of hir body. Shi should not even be conscious right now due to the need for so much blood pumping through the mutated organ, but of course the spell accounts for that.
Trapped beneath hir captor Renamon is now used precisely like a toy, and even more thoroughly than from the male before. Unable to move or even speak thanks to the overwhelming sensations, the mammal merely shakes and cries out in animalistic grunts and gurgled groans. Loins burdened with a near endless supply of semen, the living toy hops from one orgasm to the next. Offering one unnaturally bounteous load of seed after the next like a sacrifice to the scaled goddess above hir. Time stretches until the perception of it has faded in with the motions and energetic ejaculations. Beyond even the ability to keep a long thought strung together in hir fragmenting mind, Renamon surrenders from one orgasm to the next, accepting the inevitable.
CHAPTER FOUR
Hir Hero
Years of training, months of planning and now days of climbing. The knight can feel the weight of not only his armour, but the time and energy he and others have poured into this most ignoble of endeavours. At the zenith of this mountaintop, past the veil of mists, are this world's greatest bane. Clad in armour blessed by the monks of the eastern isles and equipped with a claymore sword forged by the master forgers of the black fortress, Leomon has all of the physical means that he requires as a beast slayer of his holy order. And yet even as the physically imposing lion is nearing the end of his sojourn that old enemy of dread is quickly returning to him. Years of facing lesser demons may have granted him to the confidence to scale the mountain, but it is that primal beast courage from within that will be his salvation before the day is through.
Already he can see the entrance, or at least one entrance of which he has heard and read of. Some are very obvious caves, others are obscured by waterfalls or a dense fog. However some still, such as the one the knight finds himself looking upon now, consist of a shear rock face and ancient runes carved into pillars set either side. If the open cave is the homely entrance and the hidden entryway is servants door, then this is surely the official and most flamboyant manner by which to gain access to the dragons' lair. Of course to gain said entrance once requires the proper protocol and attire; or in this case the right incantation. Fortunately the knight is well equipped for such an obstacle having been granted one of only a limited number of arcane scrolls known to grant access to such ancient and totally unnecessary means of entering a mountain.
After a moment of searching his satchel, Leomon recovers the underwhelmingly small scroll. Unfurling the parchment he feels the mountain wind take a momentary uptake in speed forcing him to tighten the grip between index finger and thumb around the papyrus. His eyes slowly focus and he starts to read, though not verbally expressing the words aloud. The manner by which this process works is purely a psychic one and though not being gifted in such a manner the knight understands that the doorway should be sensitive to all such thoughts; which is a little unnerving when you really think about it. As he comes to the last word a loud shunting sound can be heard followed by dust crumbling as if rock is being ground down underneath some unstoppable force. He looks up just in time to see the runes lit up and rock shifting and roll back to reveal an imposingly dark passage.
Unperturbed by the foreboding nature of this access, the knight presses on with sword in hand. There is something by way of light made by luminescent crystals formations; although the light they provide is minimal the feline's eyes grant him the advantage here just as much as any scaled beast. As he goes deeper into the cavernous underbelly of the mountain he can feel the air growing warmer all around him. It does not seem to be from the rocks, but from the air further along. Leomon assumes this means that he is soon to face his quarry, and judging by the way the heat is building up there probably is more than one in this mountain. He is now gripping the hilt of his sword with both strong hands and he has begun to idly grind his teeth. Every fibre in his body is tensing in anticipation for what he is to now face, alone but for the company of years of training.
Now he can hear faint noises and they grow louder as he covers more ground. Unmistakeable rumbling and the guttural sounds of dragons echo faintly up along the long cavern tunnel. The knight's heart is pounding in his chest now. The exit is in sight, though the light coming from outside is glaring and making it difficult to see clearly what is out there. Knowing this is his moment, this is his own salvation, Leomon picks up speed into a strident gait. His impressive musculature allowing him to uncomfortably though consistently keep his claymore aloft as he closes the distance. Finally he charges into the room beyond, along with the blinding light that shines down from on high. Before he can scream a battle cry the knight stops and stares to take in the sight; or more accurately to process what his eyes are gazing upon.
Once he recognises the glittering carbon sands of treasure, Leomon now tries to make sense of the living entities he is seeing. The majority of them are dragons, very obvious dragons in all the colours of the rainbow, and of the pits of tartarus for that matter. Some are male, some are female, he can tell this from the very obvious arousal of both. However even more bizarrely than seeing sexually engaged drakes is the prescience of a lone anomaly among the rutting scaly crowd. Renamon, the sole furry mammalian hermaphrodite has been thoroughly broken in by this point. Shi is technically an offering, a gift from Anxo to the other dragons present, and yet on some level shi feels more like a goddess, to be adored and used by these hideous monsters. The entire of attention, and caked in sticky juices, shi has become practically mindless. One thing on hir mind being the pursuit of that sensation, that feeling one way or another of a dragon's body in or around hir own, making hir feel like so much more than a peasant.
Unfortunately hir screams of passion are mistaken for something very different. Before he can come to terms with what he is seeing Leomon starts moving into action. The closet foul beast only ten metres away. A distance with which the knight covers with great haste. Of course ultimately the knight is ill equipped and entirely underpowered to be doing such a suicidal thing. He never even gets the chance to strike his bade against a single scale as more than just a few of the beasts notice him. They switch from lust to wrath, the one he was charging at now enraged as smoke and flame billows forth from its vicious maw. Leomon can feel his feet leaving the ground and he is hurled up into the air and across the hall. He closes his eyes at the moment of impact and hardly feels a thing.
***
"He's been cursed." Iria confirms Anxo's suspicion. Their interloper here is a cuntboy, though not originally so judging by the burly nature of his body, every inch of which has been quickly rendered stark naked by the dragons.
"So what do you want to do with him?" Anxo asks as both dragons stoop over the unconscious lion.
"I suspect he came here to be rid of his old life. Maybe we should grant him a new one for his trouble." Iria suggests whilst her tail tail slithers along the ground and begins to run up along one of Leomon's thighs. The knight stirs in his unconscious stat as he registers the touch.
"Rrrrgh. W-What's going on?" Leomon growls and mumbles as he blinks up at the beasts above a pregnant pause before he recognises just what exactly he is seeing. "Oh."
"We were just discussing you." Iria says, her prehensile tail still sliding up and against Leomon's thighs, now idly poking at his exposed furry crotch.
"Just kill me now. I will not play along with your sick games." If he could the knight may try to conceal himself, but his arms and legs are still unresponsive but for a mild tingling sensation. That is a little worrying.
"You don't get a choice little one." Anxo replies, a wicked expression on his face.
CHAPTER FIVE
Legend
As hir paw plunged into the depths of Iria's wet snatch Renamon shared a wicked grin with the knight at the other end of hir body. The energy in the room is like a choppy ocean, with opposite waves crashing into one another even as the water beneath the surface ebbs and drags bodies within from one direction and then into the other. There can be no refuting the enjoyment in this for hir. Renamon's furry body, slick with the juices of the feral female on top of hir, is a conduit for these beasts and their carnal desires. Just so with Lemon as well. The knight who only days ago came to this literal den of iniquity with the intent of sacrificing himself for the greater good, though in truth only for his cowardly desire for release from his own twisted existence as a cuntboy. Now however his body figuratively burns for the touch, the power and the seed of these dragons as his legs are spread apart and his cunt split open on one impossibly sized draconic phallus after another.
Staring up into the fleshy abyss Renamon grins wickedly and straightens hir legs. With all of hir body shi plunges headfirst into the dragoness and her accommodating nether regions. A sound both great and erotic is made from somewhere up top by Iria whilst Renamon starts to motion hir arms, agitating the senses and electrifying the dragoness even further. The female's lubricating juices are sinking into the digimon's pores; Renamon can feel it. Somewhere between beast and angel, or demon, these creatures and their body fluids seem to re-energise both Renamon and Leomon each and every time they are exchanged. Suddenly and without any warning shi feels the dragoness grip both of the vixen's legs. Renamon anticipates what is about to happen and tries to take as deep of a breath as possible, even whilst already being partially buried inside of the beast's vagina.
Quite literally being turned into a mere toy for Iria, Renamon is forced to move forward, being pushed from hir very own legs. Although shi is being plunged into darkness, the digimon feels at peace whilst surrounded by the megalithic female's flesh. Waving hir arms and writhing around with all of hir strength being thrown into hir back, Renamon explores every nook and cranny of the dragoness. Of course there is also the rutting motion, humping against the very flesh are is squeezing down upon hir from every angle. In this bizarre and utterly esoteric scenario there is something refreshing about being wanted, being needed, in such a raw and primal capacity. Even with the disparaging difference in their stature, Renamon is still sufficient to please hir many masters and mistresses. To be owned, to be wanted, to be in a very strange way, loved.
This is paradise.
***
The village never saw a dragon since that last offering, their thankfully final sacrifice. As they consulted with the shaman from the east, the wizened man assured them that what they had done was the proper thing. Hermaphrodites were rare and unfortunately very often reviled by larger society in these lands making their numbers even fewer. And yet they served as the perfect ambrosia for the dragons and their erotic ways. This is the lesson that the shaman had taught from one land to the next. It was a horrid thing to be sure. Many nights the village elders had troubled dreams, dark visions of horrors worse when imagined than when actually realised.
Legend now has it that Renamon has remained alive in the mountain since that day. Hir time in this world extended by the dragons and their unnatural force. Shi now serves as the antithesis to the blight. The living sacrifice of the people of this land so that the dragons may be satiated during their mating season and not come looking for lesser mortals. There will come a time when they once more turn their eyes to the people at the foot the mountain and beyond, however that time has not come in over a century now. For the sake of all people, the villagers still offer supplication by way of prayer for their daughter, their sacrificial lamb to the beasts above. The one not of them but certainly for them was surrendered to the demons and in that moment shi became something else. Transformed from a village pariah into something far stranger.