FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

--1

Queen Linna trailed lazy claws around the rim of her glass, coaxing it to sing a low tune. She sipped from it and trailed the rim again, pleased with the new, higher note.

She was terribly bored. Not since her kingdom was young so many centuries ago had she fought for its expansion. And fought she had, with tooth and nail at times, spells and cunning when the situation demanded it, and with nothing more than sex at other times still. An ancient dragoness like Linna felt no shame in using all assets at her disposal. Why else, she asked herself, would she have been given such a perfect form if not to take advantage of its wiles?

The black dragon with her smoky gray belly stood and stretched mildly, but her wings splayed in a display of excess. Down the steps she went, leaving her gleaming golden throne on her way down the concourse. Tapestries as old as the palace hung and told wordless tales of Queen Linna's myriad conquests, all given over to legend, embellished with mythos as colorfully as the precious gems pebbling the floor.

The most recent tapestry showed a finely-figured Queen Linna seducing a nameless king. Her breasts rested at his eye level; her spaded tail curled up his leg, the spade tip aimed crotchward. This image told just one tale of her unmarred record of conquest. Another, much older tapestry portrayed Linna with much more abstraction and artistic license, depicting her like a four-legged wyvern of old standing upon its hind legs. Clutched in her clawed fist was the bloody crown of an enemy slain at her feet. It was one of Linna's favorites, though the circumstances had been wrongly recorded by the scribes.

Beyond the tapestries, Queen Linna passed an antechamber bridging the throne room concourse and the grand hall. It was decorated skillfully with mirrors on the floor, ceiling, and every wall, giving an illusory experience of infinity. Linna was bored with the effect and instead ogled the curves of her own body, which never ceased to interest her.

In the last century, Linna had let herself go. Her belly was pudgy; her ass, hips and thighs quite thick; but the figure was yet a pleasing one. Her swollen breasts, always naked within the palace walls, made her especially desirable. Her loincloth poorly concealed a fat sheath with a scrotum to match. Queen Linna was like many old dragons with her hermaphrodite anatomy, but where most of her peers had settled on one gender and cast off the other, she kept her options open through the centuries. Apt to be noticed last was her stern face ever bearing a sneer, but she had her moments of earnest praise and fondness. Such a long life had not left her completely jaded.

The dark queen entered the grand hall in silence. It was always silent in her palace. She forbade all but the help to enter, and they made themselves scarce. Linna enjoyed peace.

She took herself to the front balcony and stared across her kingdom. It stretched as far as the eye could see, beyond mountains and across oceans. She had largely given up conquering, however, choosing to quietly preside over her chunk of the planet. The Auriandi Empire was not spread thin and in no danger of such, but Linna felt content enough with her claim.

Fate had a way of fouling up Queen Linna's relaxation. Her campaigns and gambits always came off with uncanny success, but her plans to retire or find a mate were mercilessly trounced. When Linna heard the timid greeting from her chief messenger, she simply knew business was afoot.

"Yes, Raziel," she answered the young crested reptile. "You most certainly bring news your queen wishes not to hear." She jauntily smiled. Linna loomed many feet above most, if not all of those she called her subjects. Few creatures could look down upon an eight-foot-five dragoness.

"Contrarily, your majesty," said Raziel with a respectful nod. "King Rien of the Zeterra Empire has succumbed to a stroke."

Linna pondered the implications for a full ten seconds. She contemplated her lands, then said, "I see. Heirs?"

"One," said the reptile. "Prince Desmond - now King Desmond, of course. He should have been sworn in by now. He is, I have been told by our spies, naive and young." He smiled at Linna whom did not look his way. She was still looking at her kingdom, lashing her tail in thought. "Orders, your majesty?"

"Mmm," Linna hummed. "I shall visit King Desmond with my praetorian guard," she answered, spitting the title derisively. "Zeterra is a lovely patch of land. Many precious metals to be mined. My palace could use another coat of gold," she said flatly.

--2

"...And I believe, your majesty, that our first line of order should be to impose a slight new taxation on the peasants."

"Wait a moment," Desmond blurted, "taxation? I've read the history books, my great-grandfather was beheaded in the street for raising the taxes!"

The sniveling aide smiled with brown teeth. As a fox with white fur, his teeth looked particularly jarring. "This is true, your majesty, but coming on the heels of your father's death, the peasants will hardly notice. You can say it is a tithe, to pay for the late king's last respects and proper burial."

"But that's already taken care of," the reluctant new king said warily. "You were at the wake."

"Well, you see, your majesty," the white fox murmured, "the war chest is quite threadbare."

Desmond slumped back in his throne. How funny, he thought: his throne. The opulent seat still smelled of a parent Desmond did not particularly like, but he liked his new responsibilities even less. "I adjourn this meeting," he said tiredly. As the aide turned to leave, however, King Desmond snapped, "No new taxes! Don't you do anything without my consent."

"Your majesty, with all due respect," the fox sneered, "your predecessor--."

"My father," Desmond barked, sounding as if he were verging on tears.

"Of course. Your father," the aide smiled placatingly, "often allowed me to act autonomously. You wouldn't want to micromanage me every step of the way, would you?"

"I wouldn't want to trust you as far as I can spit," said Desmond, smiling angrily. His lip quivered. "Dismissed."

His chamber empty, Desmond rose from the throne and sighed. He smoothed back the long, pretty hair he had spent his lifetime growing. It was a bohemian's hair, not at all befitting a king. Desmond wanted not to be a king at all, but with his foul aide next in line, he suffered the role.

Father had been tall and stout. Proud and strong, but amicable. A cunning ringtail with a winsome smile and an eye for economics, and greatly patient in his duties. Desmond by contrast was a mongrel, fox and raccoon, taking more after mother. He was slender, a dandy by any stretch, but impatient and full of sass. Prior to being thrust into the throne, he enjoyed courting many with his handsome face and the poorly-guarded secret of his royal identity.

Desmond straightened the stuffy kingly clothing but set aside the crown. A moment later, he cast off the robe too, leaving it strewn across the throne. The slacks and button-down shirt beneath hardly suited him, but the aides insisted he wear his kinglike attire. This was the path of least resistance for the new king.

He wandered his lively castle as a wallflower, avoiding servants and peasants visiting on courier duties. In his old habits, he returned to his former room which had long since been vacated, his possessions transferred to the king's quarters. All that remained now was a misplaced blanket perhaps forgotten at the bottom of a stack. Desmond wrapped it around himself like a shroud and sat bitterly in the corner.

--3

"Ahhh, fresh mountain air," Queen Linna sighed. "I see the Zeterra Empire has changed little."

The dragoness disembarked her sea vessel, a beautiful clipper christened the Dark Times. She was a far sight from the Zetteran peasants. None among them were draconian, few were reptilian, and Linna towered above even their greatest longshoreman.

Though dress in her palace consisted of genital coverings (often skipped in her case) and nothing more, she had dressed to kill with an immaculate, flowing black dress. It filled roles of function and decoration, marking her clearly as royalty with its silver filigrees down the skirt portion, while also giving a view of deep cleavage through its low-cut neck. Her ram-like horns were buffed for the occasion and the tips had been sharpened as had her claws. Linna appeared like an ornate weapon; beautiful, timeless, and very deadly.

With an appearance heralded and tailed by lesser drakes in plated armor, each wielding a weapon of his proficiency, Linna seemed like a demon risen from the sea to many of the peasants. All stepped out of her way, though her praetorians made no aggressive gestures to them. The dominance was implied. She walked easily in their midst to the castle.

Linna and her entourage stopped of their own accord at the castle's open threshold. The Zetteran guards, both sled dogs, watched her closely with paws on the hilts of their blades. She stepped forward to acknowledge them, smiling contritely. "I bid you greetings," she flourished. "I am Queen Linna Auriandi, and I come from my namesake empire." She studied their intimidated faces, then forced her smile to be more charming. "News has reached me of King Rien's death. Though it has taken my guard and I a long month to sail all this way, I wished to offer my condolences to the prince, nay, the new king of Zeterra."

The castle guards looked to one another. The senior of the two said in carefully collected words, "You may visit King Desmond, your majesty. I shall escort you. Your guards must remain outside the castle walls, however."

Linna looked back at her praetorians. Frigidly: "Go back. Guard the ship." They heeded without speaking nor nodding. They were efficient warriors. "Please, show me to the king."

Everything about the castle was unimpressive, conservative, drab. Linna thought ruefully of how spoiled she was to expect monuments to her achievements around every bend. Nobody caught her brief, self-loathing smirk.

"You'll forgive the disarray, I hope, your majesty," the guard said timidly. "Most of the servants have waited on King Rien all their lives. It is still a time of great loss, and our young new king has difficulties growing acclimated."

"Does he," Linna said, interest piqued. "Perhaps I will be able to guide the young king a bit. I've run an empire for," she chuckled, "many years, and we'll leave it at that."

More walking, more boring corridors. "And here, now, is the throne chamber." The dog turned and looked at Linna, his eyes wary. King Rien always saw his fellow leaders alone. It troubled him to think this creature was so enormous and charismatic as to outclass the witless new king. But he acquiesced to her clear insistence to enter, and waited outside with an ear against the door.

--4

Desmond stood as Linna approached. At first he could make out no specific details, but as she neared and the amazonian proportions of her body became apparent, he shrunk back against the throne without sitting.

"Um," he murmured.

Very unkingly, thought Linna, smiling. She bowed five feet from him. The young king was treated to a view of endless cleavage. "Greetings, King Desmond of Zeterra."

The title spurred Desmond. In a month he had learned some of the jargon, but the dialect eluded him at times. "Yes, hello, welcome to my--, to castle Zeterra, I believe." He smiled dumbly. "You are...?"

Linna continued to smile. Zeterra was as good as hers and the trip across the rough sea had her blood pumping again. Conquest was back in her veins, though a subtle takeover was just as satisfying. But now things were confused, for young King Desmond was positively delicious. She could see little of his body for the frumpy king attire, but his face was adorable and thin. His hair was so unlike any other king she had seen. Indeed, the hair would stay on that pretty head.

"I," she cooed, "am Queen Linna Auriandi, of the Auriandi Empire. And I come bearing condolences for your loss, your majesty."

"Please, call me Desmond - if I may be so frank as to call you Linna?"

"You may," she beamed. "And if I might be as frank, you seem uncomfortable in your duties."

Desmond smiled sadly. "A bit. This king business... It isn't for me. I'm a boy doing a man's job. Just twenty years old."

Linna chuckled. "Surely you must have your father's lingering presence to assist you? Aides, wills, plans for the future?"

"I fired my father's aide," Desmond huffed. "Foolish, power-hungry little..." He bit his tongue, then puffed through his nostrils. "Forgive me."

"We're being candid, are we not?" Linna laughed. "Aides are often scum. Let us sit."

Desmond sat uncomfortably in his throne. He reached for the cord at his side but Linna stopped him by holding up a scaly, long-fingered hand. "There is no need. You see," she flourished her hand and a wooden chair with a padded seat appeared from a black wisp, "I can seat myself."

"Witch," Desmond said softly. But he spoke in awe, as though Linna's existence inspired morbid curiosity.

The dragoness laughed and seated herself, splaying her wings and tucking them back in just as quickly. "I'm no witch, love. Old blood, old magic," she winked. "I knew this country when it was but a plot of land with some settlers wobbling ashore on sea legs. I have in these fingers powers that come from the infant world, when such magic was plentiful."

Desmond tilted his head. He was wide-eyed, pupils glassy: the expression of a child discovering what would become his favorite bedtime story. "But you look--," he smiled self-consciously. "You're lovely, Linna. How can you be old?"

"Dragons age well," she said enigmatically. "A long life for you," she snapped her fingers and produced a spark of flame between them, "is a flicker to me, dear. But I'd hope you won't ask my age."

The fox smiled cleverly. "Because it's rude to ask a lady her age?"

"Because I've forgotten," Linna glibly answered. They shared a laugh.

For hours, the rulers acquainted themselves. Linna regaled Desmond with tales of conquest and romance. She delighted in entertaining a rapt young audience. Telling her tales to somebody else in power softened her exterior. Soon dinner came and Desmond invited Linna to join him for a private meal. She realized how hungry she was and agreed without fuss.

"I've not eaten beef in decades," Linna lamented as she cut into her roast. It was a small enough helping that she could have gulped it down in two bites, maybe one if she were tenacious enough, but manners prevented such a show.

"Decades?" Desmond asked, head canted. "Cows are painfully abundant here. Most, if not all meals are red meat," he wearily said. "The peasants eat mostly rice and legumes, of course."

"Of course," the dragon parroted. "Peasants eating from the rice paddy while the king dines on sirloin." She winked and grinned. "I can definitely see that you are not yet comfortable. Tell me, do you envy a peasant's life?"

Desmond hummed in thought, reclining. Linna was not shy about eating as he ruminated. "I wouldn't go so far as to say I want to be a peasant," he allowed, "but I'm no leader. I'm spoiled," said the young king with a bashful smile, "and I enjoy the lap of luxury, but to actually be in command is too much for me."

"And you've no brothers? No uncles whom might take the throne?" Linna asked, regarding Desmond as prey with her snout tipped downward. Her queries bore a razor edge.

Whether used to authoritative tones or oblivious to Linna's espionage, Desmond answered candidly. "No, none at all. I alone am heir to the throne." He paused and looked away from Linna. "Death claimed mother eight years ago, accidental death," he said bitterly. "She could have ruled."

Linna's face softened. "I'm sorry, dear." Her tone was gentle.

The meal continued in stuffy silence. Desmond's appetite had clearly waned. Linna filled her belly for a time longer then tossed her napkin onto her plate. "My compliments to your cooks," she purred. "May we speak elsewhere, dear? Perhaps more frankly still? I wish to make an offer you may well like."

--5

Linna felt when she entered the king's quarters that few creatures had seen those walls. It smelled noticeably of raccoon. Desmond's demure smell was subtle by contrast.

King Desmond sat upon his sofa. Queen Linna appraised the furniture as too small for her and conjured a warm, soft chair in which she sat back.

"I should hope," she thinly smiled, "that my powers don't offend or worry you. Perhaps if you'd like I could conjure a chair for you, as well?"

"Oh, no thank you," he replied mildly. A smile creased his snout. "It does fascinate me, though. Your powers."

"I would imagine so," the dragoness chuckled. "I must ask, King Desmond - do you value the comfort of your guests?"

The foxcoon's eyes widened briefly. "Of--, of course," he murmured. "Are you uncomfortable? Shall I call my servants?" he urgently asked, reaching for the pull cord.

"No, no," Linna cooed, "but you see, this dress is so unlike me. And I can tell from the way you pick and tug at yourself that your clothing is also an annoyance." Then the corners of her pretty snout upturned, her expression twisting into a grin. "In my palace, love, I choose not to hide my body. Would that offend you?"

Again Desmond's eyes seemed to glaze. "Nnno," he answered stiffly, slowly shaking his head. "I wouldn't be offended... Please, do make yourself comfortable."

"I thought you might say that." Linna snapped her fingers and the dress dissolved into an inky black wisp. It appeared like a tangible liquid which evaporated in seconds. And there before King Desmond, with legs crossed below the knee, was the great, naked form of Queen Linna. She rested her elbow on the armrest, chin on her palm, a smile on her face. "There. So much more comfortable now. Would you, too, like to be as comfortable?"

"I'm not usually--, I wouldn't--," Desmond bumbled. He took a breath. "I don't know if it's appropriate, you see," he managed to say, rubbing his knees.

"Why, your majesty," Linna teased, bracing her arms on the rests and straightening her back, "do you assume this is lurid in nature? To be without clothing is to be as I was the day I hatched. Surely you find no eroticism in," she purposefully adjusted her thick breasts, the black nipples of which were soft, "my pure form, do you?"

"No, no, absolutely not," Desmond said more sharply than was necessary. He stood and began the laborious task of undressing. His eyes were affixed to Linna's nude body.

Impatient to see Desmond's body and lashing her tail in accordance, Linna snapped her fingers. The kingly garments dissolved and Desmond briefly was enveloped by the cool mist of Linna's magic. It rushed away from him and blew across the nightstand, upon which the clothes appeared unmarred and folded neatly.

Suddenly made nude, Desmond flinched and barely resisted the urge to cup himself. His small, uncircumcised penis hung flaccid above a scrotum tucked taut to his loins. Even including his genitals in the appraisal, Desmond was impressively feminine. Linna saw no hint of rib bones and no extraneous fat either - but his hips were thick, his rear a plump bubble. The dragon did not hide her admiring gaze.

"What a fit young man you are," she smiled. "Ah, you'll forgive me," chuckled Linna, pinching up her belly. "I really have let myself go these last few decades."

"That's quite all right," Desmond said automatically. He stood fidgeting before Linna, uncertain of what precisely to do.

A cold breeze blew through the open window and sent shivers through the boy's body. Linna was not so omnipotent as to control the weather itself, but she saw a clear advantage in the chill.

"Please, come closer," Linna cooed in her maternal way. Never had she brought children into the world, but her figure and age lent themselves perfectly to coddling young ones.

Desmond let himself be drawn in. The stress of his rule had worn him down, yet he would have obeyed anyway, for Linna was gentle, kind, and beautiful. He did as she beckoned and settled into her lap in which he felt small. She wrapped her black wings around him and sheltered him against the cool breeze. Without a word, she cupped his head softly and pushed his lips into her tit. Desmond blushed and moaned, then latched onto the black nub like an infant, causing her nipple to eagerly stiffen. He nursed and was rewarded with rich cream. It soothed his frayed nerves and slowed his heartbeat.

Through the meal, Linna stroked his back. His innocence made it troublesome to fathom taking over his kingdom. In the same breath, it was that innocence which would facilitate a smooth acquisition. She smooched the top of his head then puffed a loving sigh into his hair. Genuine affection came so rarely to an old dragon. Linna closed her eyes and reveled in the closeness with a smile.

In time, the young king slept. Linna lifted him with gentle ease and set him in bed. She closed the window as silently as she could, never stirring the boy, and joined him, holding him safely throughout the night.

--6

The foxcoon awoke with the morning light. He writhed against Linna and realized where he was. The revelation spooked him, and he shrieked. Her wing was curled around him and his face had been resting on her breasts. A smear of drool gleamed on her hide and he self-consciously wiped his chin on the back of his arm.

Linna was slow to awaken. Desmond's cry did not rouse her. Only his nervous efforts to awaken her by jostling her arm did the trick. She fluttered her eyelids open, spent a moment recalling where she was and why, then smiled as the memory came in clearly. She sat up and nuzzled the young king. "Good morning, dear."

"Good morning," Desmond said stiffly. He ignored his morning wood. Linna had no such affliction. "If I may be so bold as to ask... Why are you in my bed?"

"Well, let me see." Linna giggled sweetly and lazily sat up. "After you suckled from my breast, you fell right asleep. I'm sorry, dragon's milk has that effect on the unaccustomed. I should have known better."

"Oh, it's--, that's all right," Desmond murmured. Linna placed her hand upon his shoulder and he leaned into it, ultimately letting himself be pulled against her chubby body. "I feel very well-rested. I haven't slept so well since before--, before my father, you understand."

"I do," Linna cooed, stroking Desmond's head slowly and lovingly. "Perhaps now is not the time to speak of business, but I would say you and I have become quite close in a short time," she smiled. "I would like to relieve you of your stressful duties."

Desmond whipped around, swinging his frazzled bed hair. Linna was compelled to brush it and made a mental note to ask where he kept his hairbrush. "How do you mean? Father mentioned that our country was valuable... Priceless stones, large veins of gold. Things like that."

"And your father was correct," Linna nodded. "Zeterra is a very rich country, dear. And now that word of your father's passing has made its rounds, an attempted conquest is inevitable You are a green leader. This is hardly a secret."

"Really?" Desmond blurted. His furry face warmed with a blush. "And you can help?"

Linna smiled ruefully. She lifted Desmond's chin and smooched his lips. "Hand it over to me," she said calmly. "Your people will maintain their independence. My military will bolster yours and defend Zeterra's land and honor. I ask only a tithe of your natural wealth."

"But what shall I do?" Desmond asked in a small voice.

Linna thought he sounded as if his pride were injured. She lifted him to stand on the bed. He was then placed a head above her, and she gazed up at him with eyes conveying respect and lust alike. "You will live with me in my palace. You will be taken care of, and you shall want for nothing." Teasing with a claw, she rubbed his scrotum and kissed the tip of his uncircumcised, small penis. He shuddered and whined. "I'll bring you to the height of pleasure often, and you will return the favor." Licking her lips, she tilted her head and fixed Desmond with a jaunty smile. "What do you think, King Desmond?"

The dragoness used no powers on Desmond. She exerted only her guile. He fell to his knees with her on the bed and cupped her swollen, milk-filled tits. His fingers trembled and he licked up through her cleavage and along her neck. Linna tilted her snout down to meet his lips in a wet kiss. "I accept you as my superior, my beautiful Queen Linna."

"I was certain that you would, my dear boy," Linna cooed. She kissed him again then eased him aside and stood. One snap of her fingers reinstated her flawless dress. The spade tip of her tail teased the boy's penis, tickling its glans. "I have much work to do with your advisers and treasurers, dear. Pack your things. My praetorians will load them into my ship."

"When will be leaving?" Desmond incredulously asked. His thoughts were a jumble.

"Ideally, tomorrow morning," Linna smiled. "I will install a trusted adviser of mine here to watch over your land. And I shall send a few warships with my most eager and disciplined of conscripts. I promise you, lovely boy," she purred as she petted his messy hair, "your kingdom will live forever, and your life will be one of unparalleled luxury and pleasure." She turned and stepped away, then paused at the door. Over her shoulder, she smiled and said, "All of this is yours on one condition."

Desmond bounded off from the bed and stood eagerly before the queen. She turned and lifted his chin softly, stroking the side of his muzzle with her thumb. "Call me only mistress from now on, and you shall be my beloved pet."

"I shall be your pet, mistress," Desmond said with confidence. He nuzzled Linna's hand and she stroked his head.

--7

Desmond was not used to sailing. He sat up in Linna's bed holding his belly. The dragoness found him after making her rounds and taking in the briny air.

"Oh, darling," she tutted, caressing his head. "You look terrible. Seasickness?"

The young king nodded. Though his fur precluded an appraisal of his flush, his mannerisms were ill and shaky. Linna dismissed her clothing and joined him. She pulled her young pet close and nudged his snout against her nipple. "Drink," she said firmly.

Desmond resisted with a groan, bracing his paw on her breast. "I can't keep anything down. Even your milk is off-putting right now, I'm sorry."

"Drink," she urged. "It will settle your stomach, dear." The tone of her voice said: Mommy promises.

Eyeing Linna dubiously, Desmond obeyed and wrapped his lips about her nipple. He licked to stiffen it, then suckled. After first fighting back a roll of his stomach, he drank deeply from her and indeed found himself soothed. Despite Linna's status as a beast of magic and enchantment, mere biology was what brought Desmond relief.

"That's a good boy," she whispered, petting over the back of his head and down through his messy blonde hair. He had been quite attractive when he boarded the ship; this frizziness was the result of writhing sickly in bed. Nearby on the table was the young king's hairbrush. Linna collected it with a smile and began grooming her pet. A warm rumble shook inside of him. "That's a good boy," she warmly repeated. "Drink..."

Predictably, Desmond fell asleep against Linna's breast. She held him closely and considered easing him into bed so that she might wander her vessel again. Instead she curled around him in what was becoming a familiar manner and relaxed, but did not join him in sleep. The gentle drone of Desmond's snoring calmed her own lax nerves even further, and she reflected on the fortune of acquiring such an adorable thing.

--8

The voyage home was shorter than the first trip. The winds were with them all the way and Linna's vessel docked home in the Auriandi Empire just over three weeks after leaving Zeterra. Linna walked to her palace with Desmond in tow. Her praetorians coordinated with the dock workers to have hers and Desmond's things moved to the palace.

It was not long enough of a walk from the docks to Linna's palace to necessitate a cart ride or mounts. Linna justified walking to burn off her chubby belly. Desmond followed on shaky legs. Both were notably decent, Linna in her fine dress, Desmond in comfortable upper-class peasants' clothing.

"How unfortunate for you," Linna chuckled with traces of rotten humor. "Having just gotten your sea legs, you return to the land."

"I don't mind it," Desmond uttered. "The land doesn't betray me like the ocean."

Linna laughed and set her hand upon his shoulder. "Tell me, what do you think of all you see?" she asked, gesturing across the land. Here they were in prairie land broken up by scant few trees. A town thrived a mile to the west, close enough to Linna's palace to be considered the capital. "This is the Auriandi Empire, love."

Desmond looked around, then at Linna's features. He smiled sadly. "I'm homesick."

The dragon nodded and hugged Desmond close. Her much greater height meant his head rested on her bosom. "You will adjust, and you'll be very happy with me," she purred. "I promise you."

Desmond sighed, but nodded. "Let's go, if you please. I'm growing hungry..."

"Ah, yes," chuckled Linna, giving her pet one last squeeze before letting him loose. "Almost a month eating dried fruit and jerky with breastmilk and water is enough to dull even the most optimistic palate. You'll eat like a king again in my palace, dear. Come along."

The pair only walked a few hundred feet more before Desmond halted by a nearby tree. He leaned against its bark and gazed contemplatively at the rolling ocean. "Hard to believe Zeterra belongs to you now."

Linna turned wary eyes on Desmond. She patiently said, "I hope you're not having second thoughts, dear. I wish not to upset you, but it's much too late for cold feet."

The foxcoon shook his head. "You're a fine leader, I'm sure. It's just... Hm. I wonder if father would think I've betrayed him."

"If I might speak honestly," said Linna, rubbing Desmond's cheek as if wiping away nonexistent tears, "you were very much unfit for the job. You would have made mistakes so many young kings have made throughout history, and you likely would have broken your kingdom's foundations." She smooched his lips and smiled. "Now you've ensured its survival. This is best for your people."

"Mmm," Desmond hummed. He looked past Linna despite her gentle touch and stared at the ocean again. "I'll settle in yet, I suppose." He looked to Linna and said, "May we wait here for just a bit?"

The dragoness blinked, but nodded. "It's quite a lovely day. I don't see why not." She lowered herself and sat in the grass, then snapped her fingers to do away with her dress. Desmond made to sit against her, but instead she dismissed his clothing too and pulled him into her lap. He settled in awkwardly, and he fidgeted as his behind came to rest on her plump sheath.

"We can be nude out here?"

"My land is rather progressive. Privacy is valued, of course, but so is personal freedom. I will not say my people are promiscuous, but romantic binds are less common than openness."

"Zeterra is conservative," Desmond said. Linna was unsure if he was bitter or yearning. "Marriage is expected before sex."

"That's a fine way to do things," Linna lied. She smiled impishly. "And have you ever been married, my pet?"

Desmond huffed. Linna stroked through the fluffy fur on his chest as though he were a teddy bear. "No," he answered stiffly. "But neither am I a virgin."

"I see," Linna chortled. "Mmm, yes, as darling as you are, I'm sure you were quite a charmer with the women."

"Sort of," Desmond grunted. "While I've spent time with women, it was never very common - nor fruitful."

"Oh?"

"Yes. However," the foxcoon said lowly, "men are known to lie together, because it circumvents the marriage laws. It's more common among younger men."

"Younger? How much younger?" Linna slyly asked. She reached down and thumbed Desmond's small penis.

A gentle moan escaped the boy. "My age, give or take a few years..."

"My goodness, what a scandalous thing to hear," Linna whispered into Desmond's ear. "Your mistress longs to know if you have lain with other young men." To loosen Desmond's lips, Linna pinched his stiffening meat between thumb and forefinger. She stroked him slowly like so and held fast his breast with her other hand.

"Ah! Yes I have," Desmond sheepishly confessed.

"Once? Twice? Dozens of times?" the dragon growled, grinning wide. Her sheath swelled against Desmond's rear. It was impossible for him to ignore.

"Many, many times," Desmond whined. "Never on top, except just once - the very first time."

"Goodness me," Linna said breathlessly. "The sweet young king holds aloft his tail on a whim." She tweaked one of his nipples and grinned at the resulting whine. "You are most definitely going to be happy as my pet, dear." She completely unhanded Desmond and eased her legs apart. "Climb off of me, turn around, and pleasure me. I'm sure you know exactly how to do so. I sport the anatomy you're most familiar with."

Desmond reoriented himself and knelt between Linna's legs. Her fat balls hung in the grass, hiding a damp vulva. From her sheath peeked the first few inches of her member, the shape of which was quite unlike anything even an experienced young man like Desmond had encountered. Its tip was pointed to ease penetration but what was exposed of its shaft revealed barbs like a feline penis. The scale of the barbs was noticeable to the naked eye but their tips were lovingly rounded. Desmond wrapped his paw around the flesh and found that it filled his mitt out wonderfully.

"Ah, very nice," he said in a puff. Pre drooled from the tip of her penis. He kissed it, to which Linna curled her toes.

"I'm glad you think so, my pet. That certainly makes things easier for the both of us," she purred, watching as Desmond slowly engulfed her shaft. In spite of her great experience in all matters of the flesh, Desmond's sticky lips and velvet tongue brought her pause. She snuffled in pleasure and lay a hand on the back of his head. "Mmm, a short tryst here, and then we shall settle you in at the palace, you lovely little fox."

Desmond took her in steadily. Descending, her barbs did not engage his maw, but he became aware of their grip when he dragged his tongue up the shaft. The manner in which they tweaked on his tongue gave him pleasure, but more so to Linna whom openly moaned. Her pre came in a heavy squirt and she teased his behind with her dexterous tail. The spade tip brushed against his balls and flicked them, tickled along his taint and finally notched into the pucker. She felt him clench in resistance and decided not to penetrate him like so, yet she teasingly rubbed his anus.

The full length of Linna's penis was free of its sheath presently. A fat knot waited at the bottom and the mouth of the sheath was gaped slack beneath it. Desmond surprised Linna when he reached below the knot but above her balls; he played delicately inside of her sheath with a padded finger and a blunt claw. Linna laughed warmly and licked her lips. "You surprise me, my pet... I wouldn't have thought you'd do that."

Desmond could not answer, but he continued to tease. He suckled Linna's dense black cockflesh and consumed her pre as fast as it came. Having his nose in her loins and her cock in his mouth subjected him to a high concentration of her musk; this flavor added immensely to his pleasure. A foxcoon, of course, had a very sensitive nose.

Linna stroked down through Desmond's hair one moment and rubbed behind his ears the next. She resisted the urge to buck up into his maw and instead took the fellatio passively. She spurred him onward with her moans and soft-spoken praise, continuing to tease his puckered entrance with her tail tip. Only now did she dig it slightly inside, but just enough to wallow the pucker out a bit. She had no illusions of fitting her wide and oddly-shaped tail tip completely inside of him. What she did intend to stick in him, however, was currently in his maw.

"Desmond, my sweet little thing," she smiled, earning his attention. His eyes were dreamy and tired, lips still wrapped around her penis. "That's quite enough of that, pet." She dragged her tongue across her craggy jowl. A grin of pure mischief crossed her snout, mellowing fast into a maternal smile. "Lie back for me right here," said the dragoness as she patted soft prairie grass, "and hold aloft and apart those legs."

The foxcoon pulled off of Linna's meat and wiped his chin on his forearm. He obeyed his mistress and took to the grass, finding it plush like a bed. He lifted and parted his legs, then grabbed his feet and interlaced his fingers and toes. "Like this?"

"Mhm, just like that," Linna answered. "I will not be doing this often, pet," she said sternly, "so please, do not get used to it." Before Desmond could ask, Linna knelt near her prostrate pet. Her proximity silenced him. Her goal was his rear, but for the sake of being an accommodating mistress, Linna first wrapped her lips about his small package. She did not humor the size of his endowment by sucking it alone; she took everything into her mouth and suckled all of it comfortably. She did so until her pet began to whine and croon. This took a pitifully short amount of time.

"Too cute," she growled clearly around his genitals. She gave them one last suck and punctuated her actions with a tongue-lashing. Desmond's scrotal fur was spectacularly matted down and it glistened from a dense coating of slobber. Linna chuckled at that sight and the grander view of her prone fuckthing, which squirmed and huffed. She gnawed her way down the thinly-furred and slightly pink run of his taint.

Desmond's delectable pucker was her goal. First she smooched it, but her size over him entailed kissing much of the surrounding fur and flesh as well. Then she dug her tongue into it, pushing the tip against his anus and achieving penetration almost immediately. She opened him up hard and fast this way and his moan was sharp, almost pained, but Linna knew that her malleable tongue was the most loving thing she could use to work her pet open. In time, Desmond merely crooned and moaned.

But in spite of the depth and energy with which Linna slathered her pet's anal walls, she didn't linger on them. It was an appetizer for the main course and the reality of this settled in for Desmond when the dragoness scooted closer and notched her pointed cocktip into his drool-smeared pucker. "Mmf, be gentle with me," he puffed. "It's been a while."

"I shall be gentle for now," Linna said, carefully balancing her tone between the maternal fondness of Linna and the cold, all-business speech of Queen Auriandi. "However, I do expect you to eventually, and consistently accommodate me. I believe this is the least you can do."

Desmond was apologetic. He splayed down his ears. "Yes, mistress, I'm sorry."

The dragoness said nothing more on the matter of duty, but more fondly said to Desmond in that moment, "Breathe deeply, love. Here it comes." Linna watched closely in sordid fascination as she entered Desmond. His pretty pink anus spread wide around her penis, coaxing a slow-building moan from deep in his breast. Each successive inch frayed Desmond's composure a bit more, causing him to writhe and curl his toes.

Linna encountered resistance from Desmond's tight behind. She eased back and her barbs worked their magic, dragging across Desmond's rectal walls. At first the boy squealed as if in pain. The pleasure overtook the shock quickly, leaving him moaning. He began to irregularly pant, but his breathing caught in a gasp at the same moment Linna pushed her way back inside.

This time Linna was able to butt her knot up against Desmond's pucker. There she remained, making a respite of the moment. Feeling amorous and happy with herself, the dragon molested her young pet, fondling his fine lines, tweaking stiff nipples but ignoring his small cock. "You are lovely," she growled. "And all mine."

"All yours," Desmond parroted almost breathlessly. "All yours..."

"Good boy," Linna grinned. She ground her knot up against him. The fox gave no reaction, but Linna craved one. "Pet," she cooed, "have you been knotted?"

The boy gnawed a jowl before he gave his shameful answer. "I have not, mistress."

An airy giggle, dripping the sentiment this is too good to be true, passed Linna's lips. She leaned sharply over her fox and kissed him. Her heavy breasts sagged against his chest. "Such a treat you are. Well, my love, your first time with a knot will not be here in the wilderness - I will spare you that... Pleasure until you've seen your new home." As though it were a detail she forgot to mention, she added, "But you will learn to take it. I will not keep a pet I cannot enjoy fully."

"I understand," said Desmond, grimly. Then, with an eagerness Linna did not think to be faked, "But please, have me now, mistress."

Linna cracked a smile without menace. She started to rock her hips, pulling back her cock and dragging its myriad barbs against Desmond's inner flesh. The boy whined only pleasurably and pecked Linna's snout with needfulness and affection. He bleated softly of his devotion and lust. Linna took the declarations at face value and quickened her gyrations.

A multi-centennial dragon like Linna could fuck for hours and hours if the situation demanded it, yet so could she dial it back to a more reasonable time scale for partners with less endurance. It felt to the dragoness like Desmond was already at some sort of capacity and the last thing she wanted was to wear out her newest toy before she even got him home.

It was with brevity in mind that Linna straightened her posture and rested back on her knees. She held Desmond's hips and bounced the boy against her loins, puffing from her nostrils with each bump of his anus into her knot. With the rare empathy she felt for the young king, his blissful cries as the barbs teased him were pleasuring her more than the fox could have imagined.

"Pleasure yourself," she growled. "Your mistress wants to see a mess on that belly."

Desmond nodded and obeyed at once. Linna made his work for the way she tugged him against her loins, yet his paw became a blur on his inoffensive penis.

Getting the fox to abuse himself had the secondary function of making his rectal muscles clench more often. Linna crowed in her pleasure as the velvet walls within him squeezed down on her shaft, milking the meat and causing rougher tweaks on the barbs. With such a tight sleeve grasping her cock, it was no surprise at all that Linna was verging on an orgasm just as her boy was.

"I'm close, I'm close already," Desmond whimpered, voice dripping shame. He never stopped masturbating.

"Good, that's such a good boy!" Linna groaned, pulling him in harder and harder, smashing him against her loins and grinding her knot into him. It was becoming difficult to resist that natural urge to knot him. Ultimately she kept her promise, but not without seriously considering breaking it.

Linna had hoped to last until after Desmond, but the boy's flesh was just too fine. She took pains to maintain her composure, biting her lip and tightening her muscles, but her wings splayed dramatically and she dug her fingers almost painfully into his girly hips. She shot a remarkable load deep inside of him. Each rope was so juicy and dense that any one of them would have been a perfect note to end on, but the dragoness continued to ejaculate. Again and again she gushed for her fox, and without that knot to plug him, he leaked like a sieve. Linna's semen squirted out around her shaft and against the knot, covering the grass below and soaking the king's plush fur.

In her release, Linna was nearly stoic, but Desmond let loose as a truly noisy whore. Being filled was evidently his joy in life, and as the mess entered him, he let loose into his yanking paw. At first he only dribbled, but then he shot some dense ropes up across his belly, zigzagging it around his navel. It clung to his fingers in sloppy webs. Very soon, he grunted and fell slack in the grass, suspended by Linna's powerful grip and her member in his rear.

When the afterglow began to placate her, Linna relaxed her grip on Desmond's pelvis. She leaned over him and kissed his lips at the same time as she sheepishly folded her wings back in. "That was lovely, pet," she reservedly said. Then with a tiny chuckle, "We should hurry along to the palace now."

--9

His ongoing nudity did not bother Desmond as much as the loneliness of Linna's kingdom. She explained candidly on their walk - during which Desmond's gait was more of awkwardly cute hobble - that because of the sheer amount of land she held, her people enjoyed great personal space. Linna's palace was therefore well away from its capital city, unlike Zeterra's castle; and besides the guards whom stood tireless watch at the gates and the small crew of help within, Linna's palace came across as lonesome.

The dragoness nodded at her guards on her way past. Both were young drakes but neither exhibited any notable interest in her nude body. Desmond earned their brief gazes, reptilian eyes sunken into obscuring helmets studying him, but it was not a lustful appraisal.

Desmond sidled up quickly to Linna, looking over his shoulder. She draped her arm around his shoulder and calmed him somewhat. "Your palace guards stared at me," he stiffly told her.

"As they shall," Linna flippantly said. "Outsiders do not often enter my palace. Again, love, freedoms and space. I do not barge into my subjects' homes, and they do not enter mine."

"This is so unlike Zeterra," Desmond sighed. He rested against Linna and closed his eyes halfway, letting her guide him along. The walk from the front gates of her palace to the actual entrance was a long and unremarkable one, a straight shot through a garden of virile greenery covered in colorful, fragrant flowers and marble effigies of drakes and dragonesses from ages long passed.

Into the palace, after ascending countless flights of stairs and passing through halls and antechambers adorned with tributes to Linna's personal wealth and conquest, the black dragon and her tired pet emerged into the master bedroom.

The decor of Linna's bedroom was subdued compared to the rest of the palace, perhaps because so many gaudy baubles gleaming in the light were not conducive to rest. A purple-sheeted bed of massive proportions lay dead center from the door, catching the eye immediately. Its head was beneath a large arched window the width of the bed itself, and the glass depicted a colorful tableau of Linna or an ancestor of hers in yet another scene of triumph. A long and soft couch took up the brunt of one wall, and opposite was a bookshelf full of tomes mostly in the draconian tongue.

"These are quite... Tasteful accommodations," Desmond admitted, looking needfully at Linna's bed yet lingering away from it.

Following her pet's gaze elicited a smile from Linna. She brushed past the young thing and draped herself across the top quilt, lying sideways. She stroked a spot near her belly and finished with a pat. As Desmond joined her and yawned, Linna yawned too. "Not every room is a monument to my vanity," Linna dryly said.

"Of course not," Desmond said, unsure but deferent.

Desmond drifted in and out of rest and Linna stroked his body slowly and thoughtfully, her tail swishing in a tired rhythm. Sleep allured but duty beckoned. She did not wish to leave Zeterra adrift. Eventually, Desmond snored.

Smiling and thinking fondly of the boy, Linna sat up and peeled the quilt over from the side to swaddle Desmond in it. She listened for a change in his gentle snoozing but heard none. Still smiling, she kissed between his ears and pulled the cord to draw the curtains in, enveloping the room in darkness.

"Rest, love."

--10

At night, Linna returned to her bedroom with business concluded. She slipped the comforter off of Desmond and spooned up against him again, replacing the need for a blanket with the membrane of her wing. He stirred, making an infantile mewling noise. Linna pecked between his ears again and rumbled tiredly, "Sleep." Desmond obeyed.

When the morning light tentatively shone through an overlooked gap in the curtains, Desmond shifted away from Linna but did not escape her hold on his little body. He was naturally awake following his head start on the dragoness but when he tried to awaken her, she mumbled, still in the thick of rest.

"Mistress," Desmond said, earning no response. Then more firmly, with his ears splayed down, "Linna."

Linna dragged her long, black tongue across her lips. It moved like a drunk serpent. "Mmm. What?" she dully asked. "It's too early."

"But I'm awake," Desmond groused. "I must--, I need to attend to something."

The dragoness thought of how shamefully Desmond had urinated overboard on the trip home. She chuckled and lazily unhanded him. "The chamber just to the east as you leave the bedroom. Come back when you're through."

By the time Desmond returned, Linna had fallen back into shallow sleep. Her position had changed, however. She was on her back, wings unfurled, hands akimbo, and legs inelegantly splayed. She did not have an erection but her sheath was swollen. Desmond looked at her fine body thoughtfully.

Linna's rest was yet light enough that Desmond climbing into bed roused her. Her eyelids slid open, revealing glazed jade irises and fuzzy pupils. She blinked away the sleep and smirked. "I see that look in your eye, dear. Before you ask," she yawned and folded her hands over her tummy, "the answer is yes. It is always yes."

"It is?" Desmond asked, bluffing his way through the exchange.

"Mmhmm." Linna's tail ground against Desmond's knee before curling loosely around his thigh. "You may pleasure me whenever I am not occupied." Slyly she added, "And, sometimes, even when I am."

A jaunty smile creased Desmond's young face. He cupped Linna's balls, the hide warm and pliable. "I believe I understand, mistress." Softly, slowly he kneaded her scrotum and as a result, her dark penis emerged from the puffy mouth of her sheath. Desmond moved one paw to the growing shaft. The other slipped lower, brushing the lips of her pussy. "And may I touch you here, as well?"

"You may. And you shall," Linna smartly nodded, though her eyelids were practically welded shut, voice lame and drifting. "A moment, my pet," she mumbled, and Desmond eased off. Linna squeezed his leg with her tail before releasing him, then rolled over onto her chubby belly. She folded her arms, rested her head against them, and kept her tail high. "And there, too."

Cupping Linna's fine rear shifted Desmond's smile to a grin. His penis was hard, once from morning wood and the need to piss, but now in arousal. He leaned down near Linna's rear, biting his bottom jowl absently. He pressed his nose into the crack of her ass and drew in through his nostrils, inhaling her musk and giving a moan.

Linna laughed quietly. The noise sounded keen and awake. Her voice had the expected dozy cadence, however, when she asked, "Does my scent please you, pet? I'm sure it does, so don't answer... Sniffing behinds is how foxes and dogs offer greetings, isn't it?" She laughed again. "While that's fine and well, do more than sniff, dear."

"Gladly," Desmond spoke, failing to keep his lasciviousness in check. He pried apart the cheeks of Linna's ass and bared her tight black anus, which winked from the cool air. Desmond warmed it by exhaling it, and gave it even more warmth with a lick across its surface. Linna quietly moaned, her penis throbbing between her belly and the comforter. It was not the first bedspread she had ruined with her juices.

Hot breathing and tentative licks gave way to slavering laps and huffing groans. Desmond proved himself to be a messy and very noisy eater; Linna minded neither trait. A dumb smile twisted up her lips, though her eyelids stayed shut. She draped her tail over the back of his head and let loose a fond laugh. "Pace yourself, pet," she teased.

Not only smelling but also tasting Linna's musk caused Desmond to shudder. He licked from the edge of her cunt to the middle of her needful pucker, then withdrew his tongue. He replaced its touch with his lips, smooching firmly into the dragon's anal entrance. The wetted ring continued to wink, now in reaction to Desmond's ministrations. Linna, for all her dominance and jaded notions, was eager in her moans.

The flavor of Linna's draconian musk sniffed from one of its most potent sources gave Desmond a high. His tail swished madly and his attentions for her became yet more base and lewd, his efforts covering her anus with drool. He slid his thumbs down between the cheeks and pinned the edges of the ring, pulling it apart to open it up. The dragon huffed, but did not reprimand him.

Desmond wriggled his nose against her pucker then slid his tongue past its stretched muscle. Linna gasped modestly and curled her toes. Her tail yet rested on Desmond's head, but its tip flopped back and forth at random like a broken metronome.

"Good boy," she effused. "So very good."

Praise pleased Desmond, but the taste of his mistress pleased him more still. He pressed his tongue in deep, stimulating writhing muscles and coaxing the ancient dragon to clench. She puffed through her nostrils and in spite of herself, she blushed and grinned broadly. Once again, Queen Linna patted herself on the back for her royal acumen and persuasive skills.

Some inarticulate moan escaped the boy. He eased his tongue back; slobber gleamed in its wake. He kissed the pucker, then gnawed briefly on the base of her tail. "I'm very needful, mistress," he quietly said.

Silence. The last hiss of Desmond's words vanished in the heights of Linna's bedroom, leaving only the heavy whisper of Linna's breath. For one tense moment, Desmond waited. He slid his paws across Linna's rear, glanced down at the slobber he had left behind. "Mistress?" he sheepishly asked.

"You are needful - really," said Linna with terrible, biting dryness. She chuckled and rolled onto her side, moving slowly to give her boy ample time to dismount. "Rub against whatever you like." Patiently, with a good-natured boys will be boys rhetoric, she added, "And try not to be too noisy, dear."

Desmond smiled lopsidedly. He grasped his small penis, tweaking it in his slim fingers. Before him, Linna's dark bulk was enticing. Long, strong legs; large yet feminine feet; a plush rear and matching bust, the latter full of cream free for his taking. Rub against whatever you like. Desmond bit his jowl. He lay a paw upon her hip, stroking up briefly to the pudge of her belly, then down and around, across the curve of her ass. Linna's hide was soft, only slightly leathery, another deception as to her true age.

It was Linna's thigh which Desmond found himself doting on. The curve of her rear was too obvious; her bust too personal. Well aware of the notion that he was a dog humping his owner's leg, Desmond straddled the queen's legs, slightly splayed as she lay on her side. Her genitals were exposed to him but he resisted the urge to touch them. Eager for his relief, Desmond ground against her supple thigh, the curve of which filled out his crotch neatly. Linna chuckled and shifted. She said nothing.

Resting both paws on Linna's hips, Desmond started to hump. His movements were awkward to begin with, yet he found a rhythm. Grinding against Linna's hide was easy, for there was little friction in spite of his fur. Her body provided a smooth, warm surface on which to unload his frustrations, and he softly cooed. He closed his eyes, tossing back his head to huff into the still air. Linna was grinning, listening but not watching. She feigned a snore and pushed her leg into his groin.

More sordid noises escaped the young king. He was glaringly self-conscious of himself and bit his lip, crushing the noises down and splaying his ears too. Yet he was not so shameful as to stop, and in fact quickened his bucks, knowing his orgasm was tantalizingly close. It irked him that he was not permitted entry into his mistress, yet that in its way hardened his resolve to get off in his unusual way. Resisting the urge to stroke himself, which would have gotten results in seconds, Desmond continued to grind and hump.

The dragoness mumbled, pushing her leg into the boy again. In a much less ambiguous gesture, she brought her tail around. Its spade tip teased his bucking rear, giving him momentary pause. In that moment, Linna boldly thrust the tip of her tail between his ass cheeks. It ground into his pucker and coaxed a squeak out of him.

Made self-aware again, Desmond swatted Linna's tail as if it were a pesky moth. The dragon smirked in her alleged sleep and relaxed against the bed.

Cheeks flushed, Desmond ground against his full-figured mistress with quickening breaths. The soft noises became whimpers which he was too distracted to temper. And suddenly, right as his bucking faltered and his breathing broke for a gasp, he came. His thick ropes of semen shot across Linna's thigh, contrasting sharply with her black hide. Linna licked her lips, and her smirk mellowed to a smile.

Desmond did not ejaculate for long and when the feeling of afterglow overtook him, he dismounted Linna as gently as he could and fell back on his behind. For a moment, he huffed and waited for his composure to return, during which he studied the mess he had left on her thigh. When his breathing came under control, he leaned near her and kissed the back of her thigh where it tucked inward to meet the buttock. He dragged his tongue up around the curve, heading for his mess. He intended to reach it on one slurp but the surface area of Linna's leg was great; he reached his cum after wetting his tongue again.

By the time Desmond was through, his afterglow had subsided and Linna's thigh was clean. The dragoness was well on her way to sincere sleep, but Desmond was more awake then ever. He leaned over his mistress and pecked her cheek.

The young king left the bedroom to explore his new home.

--11

Hours later, Linna awoke rested and content. She sprawled, yawned, and felt around briefly for her pet. It didn't panic her that he was not present. On the contrary, knowing her new companion had the will to explore made her smile. The dragoness rose and stretched, arching her back quite far. Had Desmond been there, he would have been enamored by the display.

Linna wished to find the fox to see how he was. Her fondness for him dictated that wanting; but her baser instincts started her toward the kitchen for breakfast.

The smell of food grew more potent as Linna descended from the heights of her palace to the utilitarian portion, where the help worked and resided. Even that area was opulent, but not to the same effect of tapestries and bejeweled floors. Instead there was a modest, almost quaint quality, the purple hues of the palace lending themselves well to simplicity. Linna found this area of her domain pleasant when her eyes were tired.

Familiar voices rung in the hall leading to the kitchen. One belonged to her head cook. His oftentimes harried voice usually doled out orders to the workers beneath him; stoke this, wash that, bring this to her majesty. But his tone was kinder now, and Linna even heard an unexpected laugh. The other voice was that of Desmond.

Linna nudged the wooden door open and peered in through the crack. There beside her head cook, whom was a green-yellow crocodile with athletic bulk, was her young pet; both wore only flour-spattered aprons. All of Desmond's hair was tied back into a tight braid.

"Is that dough ready yet, boy?" the crocodile asked, looking up from his own a task. He hugged a bowl of sweetly-scented pastry filling and whipped it all the while.

"Nearly, sir." Desmond was impressing Linna. A slim and sensual pet was one thing, but an attractive young man with a love for cooking had the potential to make a chubby dragon very happy. She opened the door and stepped through, then stood behind the island counter on which a ceramic tray waited for whatever it was her pet and cook were preparing.

"I believe it's ready now," said Desmond, twisting around on his heel. He was hugging a bowl identical to the crocodile's, but Desmond's appeared much larger against his feminine body. Linna found that cute.

Because he was not used to the kitchen yet, which was very busy with appliances and hanging cookware, Desmond failed to notice Linna even as obvious as she was. He discovered her only when he set his bowl down on the counter, and he flinched at the sight of her. Linna covered her mouth to laugh.

Calming herself quickly, Linna asked, "Having fun, dear pet?"

Desmond smiled sheepishly, his spindly raccoon fingers hooked in the bowl. "Yes, I am," he shyly answered.

The crocodile rubbed Desmond's shoulder in a show of fondness. "The little fellow wandered down here and just sort of put on an apron. I have to say, he knows his way around the kitchen."

Smiling modestly, avoiding Linna's eyes, Desmond said, "It's something I picked up, that's all. Father didn't approve of my cooking. It isn't something royalty does, so he said."

Stepping around the counter, wearing a reserved smile and a slight glow on her cheeks, Linna embraced her young pet, pulling his head against her bust momentarily. "I encourage you to do that which makes you happy, dear. Need I remind you that you are not under your father's rule any longer."

"I know," Desmond said, somewhat sadly. He nuzzled Linna's breast benignly, and Linna patted his head. From anybody but her, he would have found the gesture condescending.

As he turned to the counter, and in a much more chipper tone, Desmond announced, "I believe you'll enjoy this, mistress. It's just a pastry my own chef used to make for me. He taught me how to cook."

"I'm sure it will be lovely," said Linna, leaning down and pecking Desmond's brow. With a lingering touch on his back as she passed him, she growled, "Bring some up to my chamber for both of us. Mistress will supply the milk."

The sultry edge in Linna's tone gave Desmond blushing pause. He said nothing to question her, but watched her until she left the room. Grinning awkwardly then, he turned to the head cook. The crocodile shot him a wan smile.

"Her majesty likes you quite a lot, boy. I'm envious."

"It is quite nice," said the young king, allowing himself a sly smile. "I need a rolling pin, sir."

--12

Two hours of royal duties came to a welcome end for Linna when Desmond entered her bedroom. She looked up from her grand oak desk, nestled into a nook of stone with an awesome view of the Auriandi Empire and the sea beyond its landmass. The nook was enclosed in glass like a greenhouse. It was plain to see why Linna found the spot inspirational.

"Should I return later, mistress?" the sweet, nude fox asked, clutching a silver platter dotted with pastries.

"No, dear." Linna closed her ledger and rose from her chair. She draped herself along her sofa. Like the bed, it was enormous to accommodate her. She welcomed Desmond to sit with her, and the only practical spot put the small of his back against her belly, and there he sat with the tray of goodies. Linna snapped her fingers, and in a rush of magic the boy had not seen in some time, a small and ornate wooden coffee table materialized close by. He set down his burden with a smile.

Linna looked at the tray. The pastries were rolled and oozing filling which had bronzed in the oven. "Feed me one, pet," she gently said.

Desmond nodded. He picked up one of the treats and brought it near Linna's lips. She nibbled it, then took it from his fingers; what was several bites to Desmond was one to her.

In her long and varied life, Linna had employed some of the finest chefs to ever walk the earth. What she tasted now was good, but by no means was her pet a prodigy cook. But like a mother praising her child's first shaky, uncoordinated drawings, Linna beamed and smooched his cheek. "Delicious, dear. Mistress approves."

The dragoness allowed her pet to feed her another of the pastries. He then offered a third, but she took it from his fingers, sat up, and nudged it against his own lips. "I'll have more later - you should enjoy some of your own cooking."

Desmond earnestly ate as Linna offered him bites. Her free hand stroked down his flank, avoiding his erogenous zones despite touching his hip at the bottom of every caress. When Desmond's pastry was gone, she kissed between his eyes and warmly purred, "Would you like to wash that down, my pet?"

"The answer is always yes," said Desmond, twisting around to greet Linna with his coy smile. She chuckled and slid her fingers through his hair, which he had groomed back into its familiar style sometime before coming to the bedroom.

Linna's milk was implicitly offered to Desmond whenever he wanted it, and the dragon was pleased that Desmond was not skittish about getting it. He kissed her nipple, gave it a gentle gnaw, and licked it. The nub stiffened accordingly, as the dragoness shivered. The boy closed his eyes and also closed his sticky jowls around the nipple. He suckled it firmly, coaxing out the cream within.

Feeding Desmond from her tit stimulated Linna's maternal tendencies then as ever. Blushing, smiling, she hugged her pet close to her body, humming sweet melodies for his relaxation, and perhaps her own. Her tail swished. Her genitals were dormant. Under the right circumstances, feeding Desmond could be an erotic act, yet it was not at that moment.

Nursing from a creature so large made Desmond look and feel small and young. Compared to Linna, he was both; and acknowledging that gave him a sense of queerly infantile pleasure. His belly was not yet full, but he pulled off of Linna's breast all the same and licked her neck. A dribble of milk drooled into his plush fur. "I feel rather spoiled, being fed like this," he tittered.

"Let's not be naive, dear - you are spoiled." She kissed between his eyes once more then rubbed her snout against his own. They rumbled fond noises together. Seeing a fine opportunity, Linna gnawed her pet's neck. The stimulation made Desmond crow and tilt his head. "Beautiful little thing... And what could this be," said Linna, her tone a comically flat drone, for Desmond had an erection. It ground on her pudgy abdomen.

"Forgive me," Desmond murmured. "Your breasts, sucking them, it's--, I'm easily aroused."

Linna stroked down through Desmond's hair and shushed him kindly. She pulled him in yet again and coaxed him to lay his head broadside on the plush mounds of her breasts. "My pet is aroused by his mistress - good. I'm very glad to hear that," she chuckled. "And this time, your mistress is awake enough to properly have her way with you."

Blushing in modesty, Desmond quietly said, "You don't have to waste time on me, I'm still satisfied from this morning."

In nearly that strictly-business tone, Linna said, "I'm not." She reached between her body and his own and tweaked his penis. "And it seems you might not be entirely satisfied either... You will help to get me ready, dear."

"I will, mistress," agreed Desmond, kissing Linna once on her lips.

She kissed back, then stood up from the restrictive sofa. She held Desmond to her body like a small child and moved him calmly to the bed. She released him onto its surface and sat back on it herself, her legs parted but her overall composure still elegantly ladylike. Her sheath had begun to swell. She took Desmond's paw, smiling, and set it upon her male genitals.

"You're so beautiful," Desmond effused, fondling the soft hide of Linna's sheath. He slid his fingers down and fondled her plump scrotum. Linna's male organs throbbed heavily, exuding heat and musk. Desmond doubled over and nosed into the mouth of her sheath, trailing his tongue along its rim before dipping it inside. Linna puffed and curled her toes.

Desmond was not allowed to lick in Linna's sheath for long. Her dense, dark penis emerged due to the stimulation and forced his tongue back. The lustful foxcoon never lost countenance; for savoring Linna one way was as good as the next. He opened his mouth and took in Linna's shaft as it came, moaning around the flesh, loving how it depressed his tongue. He closed his eyes, choosing to focus on other senses as he sucked.

Linna briefly bit her lip. Like Desmond, she closed her eyes. Resting a paw on the back of his head, she complimented him, "That's a very good boy, Desmond."

The dragon's member was getting to be too much for Desmond to handle with his mouth. He felt the rubbery barbs on his tongue and knew that the knot was coming. He opened his eyes and watched as it struggled against the sheath, eventually coming loose and leaving the sheath slack beneath it. Desmond had made a habit of teasing the loosened sheath with a finger; he did so then, and Linna moaned appreciatively.

Soon the fox started bobbing. The familiar sensation of Linna's barbs dragging against his oral flesh sent shivers down his spine. He slid his paw off of her sheath and wrapped it around her balls, lewdly handling them, but they were too thick to fit in his palm entirely. He stroked up under them, momentarily touched her cunt, then slid his fingers back around to her scrotum.

Linna thought little of Desmond's exact actions. Her thoughts were elsewhere. It was Desmond's girly behind which called to her; that sweet rump she had not knotted yet. She reached down and squeezed Desmond's round cheeks to remind herself of her prize. "This is mine," she firmly said, "as is the rest of you. I love you very much, my little pet, but do not forget whom you belong to."

Desmond grunted fond-sounding affirmation. Linna took it for what it was with a chuckle and a smile. She licked her fingers, sucked them, then reached under his tail again. Instead of groping, she pushed her digits between his cheeks and speared his pucker open with them. The boy hissed around her penis; his anal muscles tensed. Linna spread her fingers and pumped them, gouging him slowly yet firmly. Desmond gradually returned to his ministrations. The fingering did not last for long, and Linna made no special efforts to pleasure him.

Following Linna's fingering of the boy, she petted down through his smooth hair the other hand and said to him, "Ride me now, my pet."

Slowly, mindful of the barbs, Desmond disengaged Linna's cock. Its black length was left gleaming from a mixture of saliva and pre. Its menacing size was a source of perturbation for Desmond, but he obediently mounted up, facing her.

Linna offered her boy no assistance and no comforting words. She watched with a smile and notably cold eyes as he lined her up at his damp backdoor. He pressed against her, and then gave one sustained push downward; Linna penetrated him, spreading his snug pucker much further than her fingering had prepared him for. He groaned, and not entirely in pleasure. Linna finally comforted her pet with a kiss between his ears. "Good boy."

Instead of a verbal reply, Desmond nodded. He descended slowly on Linna and her flesh predictably reamed him out. The barbs could not be felt going this direction; her sheer girth was the only obstacle.

Desmond held Linna's shoulders for support. He hung from her like so, clinging to his mistress as he impaled his ass. Perhaps feeling a need to impress his owner, he did not stop to pull up and try again, instead taking her in one steady descent. Once his gaped anus met the bulb of her knot, which seemed to be an unattainable goal, he started to pull up on her. The barbs dug in pleasantly and he gasped.

The dragon popped up one of her eye ridges, impressed and a little amused. "Easy, dear. Don't break that pretty behind of yours."

"I won't," Desmond spoke, voice shaky and obviously pained. In spite of the difficulties and displeasures of being stretched so thoroughly and quickly, his small penis throbbed against her. Grinding into her hide masturbated him, repeating the principle he had demonstrated by humping her thigh.

Linna licked her lips and stroked down Desmond's back. Her tail swished in contrast to the overwhelmed quiver which Desmond's did in place. Chuckling in a sly manner, she asked, "Would you care to nurse from your mistress, love? You happened to leave me a bit lopsided - try the left one."

Fearing he could not control his voice, Desmond merely complied. He pressed his lips into the dragon's other tit; its nipple was stiff due to arousal and required no coaxing. He nursed eagerly, drinking her milk to calm himself. It had that desired effect even then, relaxing his nerves and helping him to also unclench his rectal muscles. His pleasure grew as his breathing and heartbeat slowed. Linna stroked through his hair and cooed.

Suffering through a morning of her pet's tongue and other pleasures had rendered Linna pent-up to the point of discomfort. Desmond's supple behind milking her cock as his lips bled her of actual milk had her nearing an orgasm rapidly. She closed her hands around his hips and slightly dug her fingers into his plush cheeks. With her powerful grasp, she overrode his lazy ride and began something more brisk.

Linna's penile barbs flared and dug more firmly into Desmond's sensitive inner flesh. Suitably, he broke off his nursing and whimpered aloud, letting a mouthful of cream splash down her breast. Concerned more for her pet than the wasting of her overabundant milk, Linna smooched him in her favorite spot - between his ears - and gently commanded, "Be calm. Keep suckling."

Desmond suckled, and the pain of Linna's barbs wore thin. The threat of her knot bumping his anal ring grew more frightful, however. She was unabashedly pulling him down against it and grinding upwards to meet him. Not a stupid boy by any means, Desmond dared not ask if knotting him was what she intended to do. He knew panicking would make it worse. Linna might have given up if his anus were too stubborn, but he did not wish to disappoint. He nursed and thought of nothing but her milk on his tongue and his penis grinding on her belly. By then, he had imprinted fully on Linna.

With an uncouth groan, Linna wordlessly acknowledged that she was teetering on the edge of an orgasm. She whispered into one Desmond's fine, purple ears. She spoke of his fineness; his handsome face; the little joys and great pleasures he had given her so far. And when her knot forced him open and his clinching young butt swallowed it whole, those sweet words seemed to him like an apology for the pain. He whimpered around her tit, but kept suckling.

"Ooh, I love you, sweet pet," Linna crooned sincerely as her climax struck. The pressure of his too-small body wrapped around her knot was impossible to bear and she promptly ejaculated, filling Desmond to the brim with semen. Still he nursed, even as the pressure in his gut rose and both pleasure and pain ascended steadily in concert. He sucked all he could from her breast and grimaced around the nub. The sensation of fullness in his body was too much to bear. Abruptly, and again wasting a mouthful of cream to cry out, Desmond pulled away from Linna and joined her in orgasm, shooting his mess into the air. His orgasm was modest, being his second in so few hours, but the pleasure behind it was great.

Panting and bleating in pleasure, almost sounding like a wounded beast at times, Desmond slumped against Linna's breasts. He rested on her and made no attempt to do much else. "That was--, I've never been taken quite like that," he admitted, still huffing.

"Isn't it a nice feeling?" purred Linna, deep in her afterglow. She stroked Desmond's back lackadaisically.

"Yes," the young king simply said. Linna eased back and Desmond sat up pretty on her, both impaled and stuck but not seeming to mind.

The quiet, which was punctuated by deep breaths from dragon and foxcoon, was interrupted by raindrops tapping the windows. Desmond broke it up further when he spoke: "May I ask a question, mistress?"

"You may."

"Did you mean what you said?"

Linna smiled thinly. "Do I love you? Is that what you're asking?"

A pause. "Yes, it is."

"I do not use the term lightly. I do not speak of you as a lover, either. You are a beloved pet; my only. Know that a creature of my age is not given to relationships outside of other dragons, Desmond - so do not take my love lightly," she said sternly, again that businesslike tone.

But Desmond was smiling in spite of the tone. He looked down at Linna, blushing and sharing his smile with her. She ended up wearing one herself. Saying nothing, Desmond reached down and offered his dainty paw. Linna took it and held it fast.