The Dragon Encounter
When what you encounter is not what you expect, perhaps the encounter can be better than you imagine.
The Dragon Encounter
"This is sooooo fucking awesome, man!"
Greg personally thought otherwise.
"Shut up! Pull your mask back down, I'm gonna start the camera here when we're ready."
"Yeah. So, like, how'll the guys know it's us if we need to make sure the police can't find out it's us?"
"We just tell 'em, you tard."
Greg hoped this was just some stupid frat hazing or something. Sure, they had guns, but they wouldn't kill him, would they?
Two thugs had been hiding in his van. He had just been about to start the engine when the cold steel of a gun barrel was pressed against the back of his neck below the headrest. He didn't get any chance to see them as one stuck a burlap bag over his head and cinched a rope around it, almost too tightly. They hustled him into the back of his own van and one bound his wrists - in front of him, strangely enough - while the other drove for several hours.
Greg really was a geek at heart. Really, a wimpy geek, with long, unruly hair, his job was to deliver his own hand-made miniatures and fantasy sculptures to local gaming shops and art locales. They sold well enough to keep him housed and fed, but he wasn't a person who would be recognized by anybody in general.
When they finally stopped and pulled him out the back, gun frequently jabbing him menacingly, he had the distinct suspicion it was a forested area. His ears popping during the drive indicated a substantial increase in elevation as well, so they were probably in the mountains. He heard no evidence of anybody else around as he was pushed and pulled, stumbling blindly along their path.
The whole way, his two antagonists sounded stoned, drunk, or stupid. Maybe more than one at once. He hoped that they were at least too naive to end up killing him, but he still had a substantial amount of fear for his life. The handling of the gun that was shoved against him often enough made him fear that it might go off accidentally.
"I still say this is fucking awesome. How'd you find this cave anyway? Man, it's perfect! All dark everywhere except this one thing of sun in the middle. It's like a spotlight on him, man!"
"Quit flapping yer lips, tard-ass, and take his clothes off."
Greg cringed. What, he was being raped on film or something? Better than being shot. He thought about being difficult, but with his wrists bound and the bag over his head, they could take him down or shoot him without much trouble. He found he had to simply work to stay upright as the one guy - nicknamed 'Tard' by Greg because the buddy kept calling him that - removed his shoes and socks and then pants and boxers.
"Hey, how do I get his shirt off with his arms tied together?"
"Just cut it off with you knife, dumbass."
The click of a blade opening made Greg cringe and he shuddered at the cold steel of the back of the blade before the sharp edge sliced his shirt open fully up the back. The guy performing this maneuver might indeed be a bit dim-witted as he battled with the sleeves for a while before finally realizing he had to cut them off too. Greg yelped as the knife nicked his arm.
"You idiot! Be careful with that thing. Look, tard, toss the clothes over there," the second man said, his voice growing closer. A hand fell roughly on Greg's shoulder, forcing him to stumble and almost fall. "On your knees, asswipe." Greg stumbled further as the heavy hold forced him onto his knees and then further down until he was pretty much sitting on his feet.
"How do you turn this thing on?"
"Just push the red button you cumbubble. There, easy enough? Grab your gun. You know the script."
A chill ran down Greg's spine and his throat caught as he felt two guns pressed against the back of his head.
"We shoot him right when you finish saying 'here's your proof', right? Say it slowly, man, so I can be ready."
"Shut up assnugget!" the other one hissed, then in a dramatic voice for the benefit of the camera, "You want proof we can kill? You want proof that we have what it takes? Get some poor sap and blow his brains out, you say? Well, here's your..."
Greg flinched as he was ready for the hot lead to rip through his brains. He hoped desperately one last time that this was a joke. A strange sound like a massive huff in close proximity above and in front of him pulled the key words to a halt though.
"What the hell?!"
"Oh my god, what is that?"
Both statements were uttered at the same time and Greg heard one gun clatter to the ground as apparently Tard fell over backward. There was the deafening report of the other man's gun going off but the bullets didn't hit Greg. Then a woosh and a sound of hard impact as something massive and heavy swung just over Greg's head and knocked the gunman across the room. There was the splat of a body forcefully hitting a wall but no further noise from that direction.
"Holy shit, man, holy shit, HOLY SHIT!"
Sounds of scrambling and footsteps running off behind him, then a yell of surprise that arced in an unusual trajectory over Greg's head. The utterance cut off instantly with a sickeningly juicy crunch, leaving near silence for a moment before the distinct noise of a gulp seeped through the canvas bag. A moment later, the same kind of crunch and gulp came from the general direction of the body that had hit the wall.
Greg was about to wet himself as he felt the close and warm presence of something he could only imagine was massive just in front of him. Hot breath washed over his naked body several times as he was sniffed at. The massive jaws that had just decimated the other two men didn't immediately close on his flesh though. Finally he realized he was holding his own breath and let it out in a woosh, eliciting a snort from the creature. He winced, freezing again, and when no further reaction occurred, he slowly lifted his hands to pull the bag off his head.
Blinking in the bright beam of sunlight shining down from the high ceiling in the cave, he finally got his muddled vision together enough to see... a dragon! Good lord it was an honest to god dragon! I mean, notably he had never seen a dragon before. They didn't exist. They were in stories and movies and drawings, but real dragons were not something you found. Yet here he was staring straight up the nose and into the slitted eyes of one.
The first thing he realized was that obviously the creature had made extremely short work of the other two men. The blood spatters around its massive maw told the tale of their demise and its... well... snack at best honestly. Even as it stared at him, the tip of its tongue, as fine as a snake's but apparently not forked, slipped out to clean up this bloody evidence that marred its lower jaw.
What little he could see in the limited light was a massive head, easily capable of swallowing even a large deer whole, with very fine scales about the size of silver dollars covering its hide. He was able to make out the massive bulk of its body in the dim light, noting that the scales became larger, to about the size of his palm, as they flowed back along its neck. It was somewhat sandy in coloration, though the sunlight reflected an opalescence from the surface.
Why hadn't it eaten him? Maybe because he didn't shoot at it or run? He could hope maybe it was intelligent and knew he was in trouble. Honestly, he was pretty sure he was somehow just moments away from being a crunchy snack. The scary thing was what came out of his mouth.
"This... is the most awesome thing... EVER..." he muttered to himself. The emphasis on the last word caused the dragon to snort at him again and narrow its eyes. He winced, expecting the teeth to crunch on him, but they didn't.
Unable to stop himself, he carefully kept his balance as he stood and very slowly lifted his arms to reach out to its muzzle. He had to touch it. He had to make sure it was real before he died. Its eyes followed his hands, flicking back and forth between them and his face. Trembling fingers finally alighted on the warm surface of its nose and found what was definitely a solid dragon there. He swooned and barely whispered, "Wow."
His excitement was short-lived. The eyes narrowed again and it tilted its head to the side, jaws suddenly gaping. Hot breath bathed him as he stared into the gullet of his death. Teeth the length of his arms and horrendously sharp swung around behind him as the massive tongue looped around his legs, waist, and torso.
A tear came to his eye and his voice caught in his throat as the tongue lifted him off the ground. He curled up slightly in reaction to his panic. He wasn't sure if he cried in happiness or fear, but he knew it was about to be all over. He closed his eyes as the jaws closed swiftly around him, intent on setting the vision into his mind... well... maybe his soul... to bear with him to the afterlife.
The jaws made an audible snap as they shut. He wasn't sure if being swallowed whole and alive was really a good thing, but there was not much he could do about it now. He felt the head lift and he couldn't stop the rush of fear.
Then more movement. A strangely long amount of movement in fact. The tongue stayed curled around his body, only barely allowing him to squirm as he wondered why it was taking so long for the creature to swallow him. Several more moments passed with no bone-crunching or swallowing. The combination of that and the obvious movement he was experiencing now made him really begin to wonder.
It was a few minutes of this before he was finally deposited with a small whump, slick with dragon spit, onto a large pile of soft stuff. It was hard to see, but his eyes finally adjusted to the situation as he realized the high ceiling of this cavern bore glowing crystalline formations. The soft pile he was on seemed comprised mostly of human-made materials. Torn clothing, bed sheets, shredded plush animals and pillows, for example. The outer edges of this large nest were studded with much larger glowing crystals, like spears of quartz, but emitting a soft, white light.
He gazed around in wonder, unsure of why he was brought here, but hoping for the best. A movement caught his eye and his head whipped around at the sound of a soft hiss. There was a very small dragon there. It looked just like the big one, but it was more his size. A baby perhaps? The small dragon looked at the massive one that had carried him in, something of a question in its eyes. The big dragon simply turned and moved just slightly across the cave to drop down and lounge in a massive depression in the stone, watching the proceedings.
He looked at the smaller one, now able to see the well-proportioned wings on its back and the graceful sleekness of its body. A long neck supported its head with swept-back ears and its tail started thick at its hind legs, slowly diminishing in size until it ended in a rounded narrow tip, maybe the size of his finger. The tail alone was as long as the entire rest of its body. It was able to lift itself substantially off the ground on four legs, not rotund like some Western dragons were portrayed.
It was beautiful in its simplicity and grace. No sharp edges excepting its deadly claws and teeth. An obvious play of powerful muscles beneath finely-scaled hide. Its size indicated it probably weighed around 200-300 pounds unless it was lighter for flight. It would make a beautiful model for a miniature.
Greg's heart sank as the small dragon crouched and started stalking him. It seemed he was to be a plaything and maybe a meal for the baby. He couldn't shake the growing fear that crept over him. Heart beating faster, he realized that is he was hunting practice for the small one, it probably didn't know how to make a quick kill. This could be an extremely painful and drawn out experience.
His wrists were still bound painfully tightly, limiting his options, but he quickly began to scan the room. Much as he had hoped for nice dragons, and much as he loved the fact that he had seen this, the human instinct to stay alive was overwhelming. Keeping the small one in front of him, he began to edge toward the side of the nest, hoping to put one of the massive crystal spires between him and the smaller but invariably just-as-deadly dragon.
He didn't make it very far before the small dragon pounced, wings spread as it sailed toward him. He lunged to the side, trying to avoid it, but its wings gave it the ability to maneuver deftly in midpounce and he was bowled backward by it like he weighed nothing. Luckily the pile of pillows behind him broke his fall, but the wind was still knocked out of him as the massive creature landed atop him and laid grip to him with all four legs. His bound arms were pinned between his own body and its form.
Wings spread possessively over its prey as he made a feeble struggle, knowing there was nothing he could do. He felt hot breath on his throat as its jaws closed against either side of his neck and it chuffed and growled at him. Guess it did know a quick kill. Defeated, he fell still, ready for his life to be spilled.
The creature shifted its weight off him for the most part, letting him gasp for one last breath, and it growled quietly, but soon stopped. A forepaw fell against his chest and held him down firmly as the jaws loosened on his throat. He squirmed, unsure of what to do, and it growled again, teeth pressing against his skin. With a gulp he froze again.
There were a few moments of his stillness before it relaxed the grip of death on his throat once more. Greg learned quickly from things and so he stayed still this time. A few more moments and the smaller dragon seemed satisfied with this, releasing his throat from its grasp. The heavy paw on his chest kept him quite at bay regardless and it would only take a clench of fingers to drive those claws into his flesh.
Wings folded closer to his sides as it inspected him, making little trilling sounds that seemed almost pleased. Greg had no idea what to make of this. The only thing he knew for certain was that one does not argue with a massive, theoretically-fictional beast that out-masses and out-skills you substantially. He closed his eyes, trying to gather his thoughts. He was utterly unprepared for the next thing that happened.
It began to lick him. First his upper arms, then his chest, moving its forepaw to the side when it was in the way. Greg stared, wide-eyed, trying hard not to squirm too much. It nosed his arms to the side and pushed them out of the way with its muzzle to lap at his belly slowly. Was it tasting him? Grooming him like a favored toy? He had no idea. What he did know, as the licks dropped below his waist, was that he was enjoying them far too much.
Okay, seriously, he thought to himself. Sure, it's a dragon. You like it, yes. But man, the big one over there just decimated two guys. And it's an animal! A really COOL animal, but it does NOT warrant getting a stiffy over!
Of course his lower anatomy told him to bugger off and proceeded to arrange itself into quite a nice pole. The fact that this was soon graced with short licks, slowly moving down to his exposed balls, did not help the situation.
He tried to move his arms back and urge the creature away from licking that sensitive area by pushing on the side of its head. The hiss and growl and bared teeth from it convinced him that perhaps making it mad while it might use teeth on that anatomy was not a good idea. From this close up, he could see that they were deadly sharp.
He relaxed his arms, thankful as it began to lick down his upper thigh instead. Then it reached the area where his legs were pressed together and hissed again, nosing insistently at the space between them and trying to burrow its nose between his thighs. Unable to do anything else against the pressing nose, his legs spread a little, allowing the dragon to continue its licking. This, too, did not help decrease his arousal. The fact that the licks were heading back up his inner thigh, its head and nose forcing his legs further apart, did not help his mindset either.
A small whimper escaped his lips as it began to lick just below his balls. He squirmed, trying to shift away, but a forepaw reached up and landed on his upper belly, claws threatening enough to still him again. The tongue suddenly pressed much more firmly and graced across his puckered hole, eliciting a startled gasp from him at the pleasing sensation. Then several more of these licks.
Animals were drawn to different things, he justified to himself, gulping down air and trying not to whimper in delight. Dogs ate cat poop, after all. He struck that thought from his mind, finding it disrespectful. Anyway, he was being far too distracted.
The swipes of the tongue finally stopped crossing his ass, though not before he was left panting. His cock was definitely not on his side for this, a few drops of his precum already marring the skin of his tummy. He thought maybe it would return to licking down his legs now, but he got no such respite.
One of its ears flicked and it sniffed at his balls, then up along the underside of his shaft before the tip of its tongue snaked out to lap at the slick precum on his belly. Soon it was licking there again, almost tickling him. When it ran out there, its attention turned back to licking the source of the fluids, quickly leaving him gasping for breath.
The paw on his upper belly clenched slightly and the wings folded closer, touching the sides of his legs now. He whimpered again in reaction when the tongue curled around his shaft and it took the tip of his cock into its muzzle. Teeth! Please no teeth! He worried more as it suckled and soon drew the rest of his hot flesh into its mouth.
He was exceptionally torn. The last time he was this split was when he got a blowjob from a cute girl who happened to have braces. That had been an awkward situation because of her inexperience and the constant threat of her braces cutting him. The awkwardness of course had been battling with the fact that blowjobs are Good Stuff.
This time, however, the description Good Stuff would have to have the 'Good' changed to 'Great' or more. The counterpoint was that this was a beast, albeit a very cool one, and teeth trumped braces anyway. The chick with the braces definitely couldn't have ripped his throat out. What drew his attention the most, though, was the fact that his concerns were very swiftly getting drowned in the pleasure.
The dragon pushed more firmly on his belly as he squirmed and he tried his best to hold still and not upset it as it slurped hungrily at his cock. His mind was numb from the sensation as its tongue slipped from its mouth, first curling about his balls before showing off its length and slipping down to his puckered hole again.
Teeth gritted in pleasure as the tip of the tongue tickled at that opening, and then just barely pressed in, sending a wave of euphoria surging through him. He moaned as a massive orgasm started to surge toward him like a tidal wave. Well, if it liked the taste of his precum, he hoped it would like this. His eyes squinched shut and his body tensed as it was about to hit him...
And then it stopped. There was just enough of a touch of claws on his chest to shock him out of his pleasure and keep him from falling past his edge as the dragon quickly retracted its tongue and released his flesh from its maw.
He whimpered and let out his breath in a woosh, frantic and having no idea what to make of this. So close! The nip of pain from the claws brought him back to his senses to a degree though.
Dude! YOU CAN'T GET OFF ON GETTING A BLOWJOB FROM A DRAGON!!! It's not right! It's an animal, it probably is going to kill you and eat you! GET YOURSELF TOGETHER! You need to find a way to...
His thoughts were interrupted by its face intruding on his vision. There was an unmistakable grin on its features and a distinct control of expression that he had not seen before. Its eyes twinkled merrily as it gazed at him and he swore it was about to laugh at him.
Then he heard a strange sound from the massive dragon that was watching. Glancing over, he saw it shaking slightly, a forepaw over its face. Damnit, it -was- laughing! What the hell?! He glared in its direction for a while, eyes following the curve of its body, when suddenly he noticed more. His face turned bright red. Well, the big dragon was apparently female. Where her other paw was made that apparent. He was most embarrassed because she was playing with herself.
A strong paw slipped behind his shoulder and pulled him to a sitting position. The small dragon pulled its hind legs up and squatted on them as it helped him to sit more steadily. The soft tongue graced his cheek as it grabbed his arm and its claws made short work of the ropes binding his wrists.
Greg was horribly confused. He became aware of a pleasant scent as the small dragon began to carefully massage the feeling back into his wrists and hands. His eyes traveled down and he quickly discovered that this small dragon was also female. He met her gaze again, seeing the mirth in her eyes.
"You're not just an anim...!" he began to exclaim accusingly, but was cut off as her muzzle suddenly met his lips. One foreleg curled around behind him to keep him from escaping as he was subjected to a kiss from a dragon. When her tongue invaded his mouth, he was afraid at first that he might choke on it, but she knew full well the limits of his mouth. That was just a tongue that one could not hope to beat.
He was left wide-eyed and staring at her when she finally broke the kiss. "But... but..." he began. This time she simply creased her brow and snorted at him, her claws touching his back lightly, which shut him up quite effectively.
Her grip slipped from behind him and she moved closer. He finally had his hands free and one of them could not help but to reach up to touch her side. It was like touching warm, living steel. Unyielding, unbreakable, harder and stronger than anything he had ever known. It had no give unless she chose for it to, yet it felt so soft at the same time as she relaxed beneath his touch.
She touched her nose to his and gave his lips a lick before her paw pressed against his chest and pushed him back strongly into the pile of pillows. He took a small glance over at the larger dragon, seeing that one intently watching. He realized with a start that the video camera the goons were using was sitting on a tripod beside her, aimed in his direction. Then the small dragon caught his cheek with her muzzle and pulled his face back to look at her.
She climbed over him, wings flicking to keep her balance on the soft surface. Her tail curled against his thigh before the tip tickled up the underside of his balls. She gazed down at him from her superior position and put a firm paw flat on his chest to hold him down as her tail curled around the base of his cock, lifting it away from his body.
He shuddered with anticipation, unsure of what exactly, but knowing that something was going to happen. When the tip of his flesh met the wet heat of her body, he sucked a startled breath in through his teeth. As she pushed her hips down to engulf him in a sensation that put human women in a much paler light, he was unable to hold back his cry of pleasure.
The work of her tail complete, it slipped away from his body, flicking up into the air. She pulled her hips up only slightly before shoving them down forcefully, ensuring his full entry into her depths and arching her own head back in pleasure. She shifted her weight just slightly, allowing her paw on his chest to slide up just shy of his throat.
This was immediately almost too much for him. This great creature had brought him so close to the edge before that it wasn't going to take much to send him past it. Mouth opening to gasp air, he reached up to grip at the shoulder of the foreleg that held him down as she impaled herself on him repeatedly, his other arm simply flailing wildly above his own head. Any coherent thoughts that may have gone in any direction in his mind were driven out by the sheer sensuality of this. This powerful beast, taking him and making him love every instant of it.
Her wings extended, stretching widely in triumph as he felt the pressure building inside him. Her mouth came agape from her own pleasure as she arched her neck, shifting her head down to stare into his face, jaws just inches away from him. His free arm reached up to stroke along her neck, extending up to the apex of the curve away from him as his senses exploded.
He felt any restraints that may have been on his pleasure shatter as his mouth fell open in a scream. He arched up against her, clenching at her shoulder and pushing against her throat with his other hand. Pure ecstasy ripped through his body as he unloaded deep inside hers, aware of her brightly-glowing eyes staring down at him.
His vision tunneled, fading to black, leaving only the glow of the dragon's eyes. The sounds of the world, of his own scream and her victorious roar, faded as if somebody muted them. His body was no longer there, only a pleasure that echoed through his essence.
"Not quite the beast you thought me to be at first, am I?" came a voice in his mind. "I do not like eating humans, but sometimes I suppose it is a necessity. Those two were a loss."
What was happening? He couldn't see anything but her eyes. His ears found only silence, though her voice was in his mind. His body felt nothing but pleasure, but now even that was fading to just... nothing.
"You intrigued me. You feared, but your awe still inspired you. No human has intrigued me before. I found it time to do more than just live and wait in this cave."
This was the small one speaking, right? Yet she spoke as if she were the large one.
"I am both. I can easily travel in time. Now, from my large form that I first found you in, I shall go back to slightly before I arrived in my cavern with you and shrink down to my small form to have fun with you."
This was amazing. This was, literally, beyond his comprehension. It was inconceivable. But why was he so detached now? Why could he see nothing but those eyes?
"By taking your pleasure, I loosened your soul. I have claimed you. Every moment of your existence, every inkling of your being belongs to me. You are mine, now, and always."
He felt a creeping fear. A terror that he had somehow just given up his very soul, that it may be a fate worse than death. Then a wave of comfort and consolation flowed over him, washing away the fear with a veritable tide of calm.
"This was no small feat, even for a dragon. Though I can control every aspect of you now, I am also tied to you. Your well-being is of the utmost importance to me." The eyes blinked and he sensed a grin from them. "Whether you end up being a play toy to explore and later set free, or become something more to me, has yet to be seen. For you at least... With my time travel, I already know the answer... Now, back to your normal life for now. But know I am always there, and I will always own you. But do trust me: I will take care of you."
There was a sound now. A soft purr. His body felt sensation once again and he felt her warm form against him, so close and delightful. He could still see naught but her eyes, glowing brightly through the blackness.
The purr became louder. He grew confused as it began to grate on his senses in the darkness that surrounded him. What was happening? Purr? Buzz...?
* * *
Greg shot awake, sitting up with a start and rabidly slapping at the button on his cheap alarm clock, finally silencing the grating buzz it created. He shook his head, trying to clear it of sleep. A dream that he just had... an amazing dream... it faded too swiftly. He couldn't remember it. He sighed, saddened by the loss of something that he knew had been epic.
Getting out of bed, he dressed quickly. Though he was going to a major public event, he still wore a frayed t-shirt and faded jeans. He was an artist. A sculptor, designer, and painter... and so of course flat broke. His fantasy sculptures and figurines were good enough, but they never really brought in much. He lived simply. He was a geek at his core, needing to be satisfied with the small things in life. He took some pleasure from the joy his creations brought to others... still, a bit of money would be good.
After a quick hot pocket and an energy drink for breakfast, he checked his email. Hmm. His World of Warcraft guild wanted to change raiding nights. He could reply to that later. He grabbed his jacket and his boxes of work and headed out the door.
Reaching his driveway, he managed to barely win his argument with the door lock on his van. He quickly loaded the cases into the back and put the collapsing dolly in as well before hopping in and subjecting himself to a "265 air conditioning" drive to the show. That meant two windows down, 65 miles per hour... which his clunker of a van could do if he was lucky.
Today he would be displaying his new works. If he was lucky, some companies would give him a pittance for the rights to reproduce his sculptures in all forms and the prototype originals would be going on auction. One of a kind originals to be sold to the highest bidder. On a good show he might pull in a few hundred and get contracts signed to bring in 30-50 extra a month.
Arriving, he pulled past the concierge area and parked in the main lot. He definitely couldn't afford valet service. He dropped off his boxes with the show administrators and hoped they didn't lose anything this time. He didn't have enough money to buy his own booth, but at least this allowed him to roam the show freely.
He was distracted as he wandered though. He really wanted to remember that dream. He knew it was so realistic, but he could not recall any details of it.
"Oh my god, it's Ed Mallardson!" a girl screamed nearby. He blinked and looked around for that man, an old friend of his. He was shocked as he noticed that the group was converging on him.
"Hey, wait, I'm not Edward," he protested.
"Greg!" a voice called from the back edge of the crowd. Greg craned his neck to look over the raving, but misled fans surrounding him. The crowd parted slightly, somewhat confused as a man pushed his way through. "Greg, I couldn't help but notice that you've got quite a crowd of admirers this year. What happened?"
"Greg? He's not Ed?!" one of the fans cried. With various apologies and excuses, they quickly dispersed, none the wiser to the fact that the person who had just called the fake out was the real person they were looking for. Greg relaxed, thankful to Ed for saving him, yet still somewhat depressed that he didn't warrant any actual fans.
"Thanks, man," Greg said with a nod. Ed smiled and nodded in return before vanishing back into the crowd. Greg busied himself with observing the show. Thousands of paintings, sculptures, and mass-produced replicas. He was hard-pressed to find any of his works.
He did make sure to stop by the auction show block early on to ensure that his originals were displayed properly and in good condition. He paused at one that was by him but completely covered by an opaque box. It was a special surprise sculpture to be revealed at the auction itself.
The Dragon Encounter was the title of the piece. He knew what it contained. A brave adventurer in mortal combat with a small dragon. He smiled. He was very proud of the piece. He hoped it would be received well, though getting it to be a surprise had taken his better-off friends pulling some strings for him. That plus the other six pieces he brought to this show would hopefully bring in enough for him to pay rent and grab some ramen before the next show.
Soon the auction time came and the hall filled with people to standing room only. The auction always drew a huge crowd. Paintings and sculptures went to the auction block in a rapid and efficient manner, each final blow of the auctioneer's gavel parting a customer with some of their money in exchange for an interesting item of science fiction or fantasy. His six public pieces did manage to net him about $250 by his calculations.
His surprise piece was up next. Not much pomp or circumstance, since he wasn't a big enough name to warrant it. As he thought about it, he considered feeling embarrassed for trying such a stunt when six of his pieces combined only brought in as much as one of anybody else's originals.
"And now for an unusual item," the auctioneer announced. "A surprise sculpture by Greg Clarion. I would like to point out that this is the first time that this piece will be revealed at this show, so it's as much of a surprise to us as it is to everybody else. The Dragon Encounter!"
As he spoke, the assistants were busy looking over the top of the box, then one of them actually went up to the auctioneer to whisper in his ear.
"Er, it seems that the box it latched on with a padlock... that we don't have the key to."
Greg found his forehead with his palm and sighed, standing up and walking to the front as he dug through his pocket. He knew he had forgotten something important. The presence of this man who was unknown to most folks caused some confusion, but the auctioneer held his tongue despite his annoyance.
The key was quickly located amongst pocket lint and he walked over to the box to unlock the latch at the bottom, giving a sheepish grin to the bored-looking crowd. A murmur rose amongst them as the padlock was removed. Greg tried to stealthily back away and hide his embarrassment, but froze with his foot ready to take another step back as the covering box was lifted off the sculpture.
He hadn't seen it since he boxed it up, but he knew he had kept it secure. An adventurer, dressed in light scale mail, driving his sword into the gut of the dragon above him as he held the fierce jaws of the beast at bay...
...was precisely what was not on the table. The room fell silent as the statue was revealed to all on the big screen.
There was a man, maybe a bard, as he wore no armor but rather plain fantasy clothing. A dragon did indeed pin him from above, its wings outstretched dramatically as opalescence shimmered to great effect from the surface of sandy-colored scales. It pinned the man's hips with its own and held him further with a powerful, clawed foreleg against his chest, dangerously close to the man's throat. The beast's graceful neck arched up, the middle of it seemingly held back by the man's hand as his other arm grasped desperately at the shoulder of the foreleg that pinned his chest.
The human had a well-detailed look of shock and awe on his open-mouthed face while the dragon's jaws gaped, combining with the stature of the wings into a decisive look of victory. This human was definitely its conquest.
Greg stood in shock as the whir of the motor that began to spin the small pedestal to show the piece from all angles was all too obvious in the deafening silence that filled the room. This was not the sculpture he had created, yet he knew it was. The hapless man pinned beneath the dragon in the sculpture had only a dagger still-sheathed at his waist and wore clothing. Greg knew though that the man indeed had his... sword... plunged deeply into the dragon. He also knew that the triumphant pose of the dragon was truly that.
"That's... amazing..." were the first words to split the silence. They came from the auctioneer. "The composition... the intensity... the sheer beauty in both simplicity and complexity..."
The room exploded into muted chaos as people stood, conversed, and everybody tried to get a better view. The auctioneer swallowed audibly into the microphone before regaining his composure. "Indeed! Well, then... as always, any serious bidders who wish to get a better view may approach the item. Shall we start the bidding at our customary ten dollars?"
"One thousand!" came an immediate reply.
"Eleven hundred."
"Fifteen hundred!"
"Two thousand!"
"Twenty-five hundred."
Greg reeled in shock as the numbers only went up from there. Nearby he overheard an interesting conversation on a cell phone, "I don't care if those stocks are down, sell the damn things anyway; I need the money! ... Done? Good!" The voice changed from a hissed mandate across the phone into an announced bid, "Twenty five thousand." Greg twitched as he realized that this was only increasing the prior bid by a mere thousand.
Numerous people were crowding around the piece now, trying to see the detail without being too obviously close. Most of the potential bidders in the room were long ago left in the dust by the rising prices. Only a few obviously-wealthy people were bidding now, while many more folks were desperately trying to pack into the room to get a glance at the piece on the screen.
"Nine hundred and fifty thousand, going once," the auctioneer announced. Greg was all too aware of many folks hurriedly trying to figure out how they could come up with more money to bid.
"Nine hundred and fifty thousand, going twice..."
The looks of desperation on some faces made Greg wonder if a losing bidder might end up trying to grab the statue and make a run for it. The enormous crowd filling every possible nook and cranny of the auction hall made that likelihood less prospective. He had an odd thought about fire regulations...
The hammer fell. "SOLD, for..." the auctioneer actually choked on the words before recovering. "For NINE HUNDRED AND FIFTY THOUSAND DOLLARS!" The poor man looked like he was about to faint.
The winning bidder, despite his suit and tie and obvious importance, looked ready to cry with relief over getting the piece. The rest of the crowd broke into a very noisy amount of chatter. Greg couldn't help but pick out multiple mentions from companies of desperately needing the reproduction licenses to the piece and damn it, make it happen or else.
Greg simply stared in shock as security and the auction officials confirmed that the winning bidder was good for the funds. The situation overcame him enough to drop him to his knees, his gaze drawn back to the statue. As it spun, his position allowed him to see the dragon's eyes clearly. She seemed to glow, and the dragon had an eerie look of victory. She would take care of him...?
He was vaguely aware of a multitude of slaps of congratulations on his back. Some reporters showed up in short order to cover the story, especially seeing as the previous record for a high bid at the show was just over three thousand dollars. His associates in the industry who had always done much better than him were following him around like needy puppies.
The rest of the show was a blur of events that were nearly impossible for him to comprehend. He picked up a multi-million-dollar reproduction contract, plus continuing royalties, for the one statue alone. He managed to avoid getting drunk out flat despite the prolific quantity of drinks people bought for him. Suddenly everybody knew who he was and the group that had mistaken him for Ed the previous day was but a small shadow to the crowds that converged on him. He was on more TV stations concurrently than when the pope was caught on tape... what did he do again? Meh... Greg couldn't remember, he was that out of it.
Desperate attempts by companies and individuals to garner his favor had left him with exceptionally well-lined pockets. So substantially so in fact that when his van broke down on the way home, he was able to simply get a taxi ride to a dealership and buy a new van with cash up front. When he finally got home and closed the door behind him, he let out his breath for what felt like the first time all weekend.
What the hell happened?! Stumbling to his room, he stripped out of his clothing. He sat down at his computer to be greeted by hundreds of emails waiting for him. Screw that, he'd deal with them tomorrow. As he reached over to flip off his monitor, he noticed a scratched and bumped-up digital video camera connected to his USB port. He frowned. That wasn't his.
A quick few clicks on his screen pulled up the contents of the camera. Two high definition video files. He double-clicked to open the first one, which was smaller. The file was corrupted and played back with a lot of choppiness and freezing, but he garnered something from it. Audio of a guy saying, "...You want proof that we have what it takes? Get some poor sap and blow his..." before the file gave up playing completely.
He had a strange feeling of dread, yet an insatiable feeling of curiosity tinged with happiness as he peered at the other file. That last file... that snippet of sound... it felt so familiar somehow. Holding his breath, he clicked on the second file.
His eyes were glued to the screen as he witnessed the video of himself being teased by the dragoness. He watched with baited breath as she brought him so close to cumming in the video, then left him hanging. Then his surprise as he found out the dragon was a she.
The scene unfolded with her untying his wrists, pressing him back into the nest, and mounting him. He could see the look of nearly-indefinable pleasure on his own face as she rode him. He instantly recognized the moment of time that was portrayed in the sculpture from the show. Then he gasped in amazement as his body in the video literally dissolved into mist to be inhaled by the dragoness.
He watched as she blew a... bubble?... of mist... Him? She held it in her clawed paws, gazing at it deeply. Then a smile crossed her face as she released it to drift away and out of view. She looked exceptionally pleased with herself as she padded over to the camera. She looked at something behind the camera for some time before that something - a MASSIVE dragon - moved around in front of the camera and dissolved into mist herself. The mist formed into a similar, albeit much larger, bubble, and vanished in a flash of light. The small dragoness smiled and looked at the camera, then the entire scene faded to black, leaving only the entrancing glow of her eyes before the video ended.
"I greatly enjoyed making that video. I also greatly enjoyed watching it, so I hoped you would too. I can see that you did..."
He spun in his chair in surprise, turning his back to the dim desk lamp that was the only light source in the room. There, across the room, two brightly-glowing eyes pierced the darkness. His breath caught in his throat as memories of ecstasy flooded back to him.
"You are mine, and I will always take care of you..."
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