A debt, and a debt repaid
#2 of Quintessent
"Why do you keep me?" Brightcloud asks. Grcan had received him a week ago, and they had already settled into a routine. Brightcloud would wake before dawn and herald the rising sun, then he would go to the library and read about the world so different from his own he was trapped in. When Grycan woke up, they would dine together, but before they began to eat Brightcloud would ask one question. He had accepted that he might not get an answer, or one he liked, but he would ask a different question each day regardless.
It had taken a few days, but Grycan had noticed Brightcloud was slightly mopey, but about something other than his current status. Or, perhaps, in addition to. His questions were not things like 'would you let me go,' or 'don't you think it's wrong to own me,' which made Grycan think that that wasn't his issue. Or, shy as the angel was about a lot of things, it could be that he didn't feel right asking.
"Because you were given to me. Because I like you. Because I want to take care of you." Grycan replies, trying not to get annoyed or angry at the angel. He valued the companionship, but there were things that made it hard. One week, and despite how smitten Grycan was by the angel they had not come in any form of physical contact since the day Brightcloud had arrived. Nothing. Not even accidentally brushing hands together.
Brightcloud, however, was entirely oblivious to how Grycan looked at him. He didn't notice when he was being stared at or ogled, didn't understand any of the come-ons Grycan tried, and didn't in any way reciprocate Grycan's efforts at seduction. The half-dragon's loins were in constant ache, but he did not tend to it personally. If he tried whenever he felt the need to, he would rub off all the scales, and he was holding out on the off chance that Brightcloud figured out what was going on.
"Please tell me about yourself." Grycan adds after they start to eat. He didn't want to force the angel, even in conversation, so he was careful to make the comment sound less pressing. He learned early on that Brightcloud was afraid of refusing any statement which could be construed as an order, so the half-dragon had been careful in his wording.
"I'm an angel. I'm two hundred twelve years old. It would help if you had something more specific to ask." Brightcloud replies, sitting at proper attention even while he ate. For as proper as he was inconversation-contractions were a big new step for him- Brightcloud did not dine as Grycan expected him to. He didn't seem to grasp the point of utensils, plates and water-glasses included. He no longer drank from the pitcher or off the platter, but he still didn't use a fork or knife. He didn't even know how to hold them. It baffled Grycan to no end.
"I wouldn't know where to start." Grycan admits. No one really knew much about angels anymore, aside from rumors of their beauty and the beauty of their creations. Grycan could definitely attest to the first one. He so longed to stroke Brightcloud's milky skin or run a hand through his fine-spun gold hair. "Do you sing?"
"Yes, but usually only to accompany my lyre." Brightcloud replies, his mood becoming depressed and his eyes teary with glowing droplets. "Forgive me, lord; she put my lyre beyond my reach when she imprisoned me." He raises a napkin to his eyes, blotting then and leaving a shiny residue on it.
Grycan watches the angel mourn his instrument, and pats his lap. "Come here." He tells Brightcloud in a soft voice, patting his thing. The angel lets out a pained breath and rises from his seat, walking over to Grycan. His wings fold tightly behins his back, and he gets to his knees and bows his head. Grycan curses himself for forgetting, but cups his palm around Brightcloud's hand and tilts it up. "It's important to you, and Meera has it? Let's go get it."
"Thank you! Thank you, my lord!" Brightcloud exclaims, taking Grycan's large hand in his two smaller ones and pressing it to his lips, then bowing his head again and pressing Grycan's knuckles to his forehead.
"What do you mean you can't give it back?" Lord Grycan snarls at the old witch. She leans heavily on her gnarled walking staff, her cloudy eyes looking in Grycan's general direction.
"Ok, won't. Not unless you lend him back to me for the night first so I can find a different way to bind him. I went through a lot of trouble to catch him for you; I'd sooner shatter his lyre than risk him getting free." The old witch hisses back.
"No! Do not break it!" Brightcloud pleads, throwing himself down on Meera's feet. He looks up at Grycan, golden eyes weeping glowing tears. "Please, my lord, let her! I just want it back! Please don't let her break it!"
The half-dragon looks down at his slave and up at the witch. Tsking, he reaches down and picks up his angel. "Don't worry; I'm not going to let her break it." He promises, his wings wrapping around the weeping angel. He couldn't hold it or help it; he presses his lips against Brightcloud's. The angel's glowing tears tasted sweet where others were salty, which caught Grycan off guard. He looks up at the witch, still holding the angel. "I won't let you do it if it will hurt him. Otherwise, it's his decision."
"I don't care if it hurts; I want my lyre back." Brightcloud whispers. He was so close to getting it, he couldn't bear to tun back now.
"Very well. Confine him to my hut in the woods. You can pick him up tomorrow." Meera bosses Grycan. The dragon hesitates, then sets Brightcloud down and does what the witch commands. Immediately, an unseen force starts pushing Brightcloud towards the forest harder than he could resist, and not giving him any chance to get ahead of it. Meera turns and heads after him, but Grycan catches her arm.
"Don't hurt him."
Brightcloud's tunic had gotten caught on a tree on the way over, and now there was a rip that extended in two directions. He had no idea how to get back home, and right now that was the only place he wanted to be. He pauses. He hadn't meant home; his actual home. Home; Grycan's place. The realization stuns him.
"Little angel, have a seat." The old witch offers him, gesturing at a narrow wooden stool in the corner. Reluctantly, Brightcloud retrieves it and sits, his arms and wings folded on opposite sides of his torso. "Don't look so annoyed; I had a lot to do when I caged you, Brightcloud. A war is coming."
The angel drops his arms and stares at the old crone. "I never told you my name. How do you know who I am?" He demands, his wings rising threateningly. The old woman points at him; just points, and he can feel his body freeze up. "What-? Let me go!"
"Not until you understand why I brought you here." Meera tells him, slowly lowering herself on what most others would have been using as a footrest. Her hands peruse around a stack of crates piled on the wall, the side facing inward on them open. She retrieves a wrapped object, then loosens the cloth around it and holds it out to Brightcloud. It was his wooden lyre, inlayed with gold runes. It was well within an arm's reach of him, but he couldn't so much as touch it.
"Give it back!" He yells, trying to fight the spell holding him in place. Aside for his face, nothing would respond. He couldn't even sway on the stool.
Meera raises her free hand, and a similar lyre materializes in it. She stands, and before she has gotten to her feet silver and gold wings have sprouted from under her clothing, lifting through the layers of her worn shawl. Her face became ageless and smooth, though her eyes remained cloudy, and filled with a timeless wisdom. Brightcloud gasps, and stutters over apologies.
"Be silent." Meera-the-angel orders in a voice that, despite it's soft quality, shook Brightcloud to the bone and blocked his mouth from speech. "I gave you to your master for a number of reasons. You two are destined to be together, for one. The Grand Council has appointed you to be his Guardian and his slave, for another. You are, of course, forbidden from making any mention of your role with him, my nature, or any other facet of the angelic hierarchy to him or anyone else. Do you understand, young messenger? You may speak."
Brightcloud can feel the effect dwindling off his mouth. "Can I have my lyre back?" He pleads, desperate eyes looking at the other angel. She smiles, amused, and releases the rest of Brightcloud's body. Without a pause, he grabs his lyre and pulls his protectively close. "I am not the right one for this job. There has to have been-."
"There is no mistake, child. You are meant to be Grycan's slave." Meera cuts him off, sounding bored. Now, though, to bind you...."
The next morning, Brightcloud was still awake, and quite worn from the mess of spell Meera had cast on him. But he had his lyre. Thanks to Grycan's caring nature, he had his one prized possession. Meera had found a proper robe for him, because his shirt had torn. It was a clean white, with iconic designs done in gold thread around the arms, legs, neck, and wings. A white sash with the similar designs functioned as a belt.
There was a knock at the door earlier than Brightcloud had ever seen Grycan rise. He would have gone to greet his master, but there was a circle drawn around him which he couldn't pass. Meera answers the door, back in her hag form. "He's all yours." She tells him, handing over a gold ring. "Now, to discuss the issue of payment, m'lord. This was an expensive undertaking."
"Whatever. We'll deal with that later. Brightcloud?" Grycan calls out into the hut.
"I'm over here, master."
The flight home was quiet. Brightcloud clutched his lyre close the whole time and let Grycan lead. When they get to the manor, Brightcloud finally has been reassured of his lyre's presence enough to dismiss it, like Meera did with hers constantly.
"Master Grycan? Thank you. You didn't have to, but you helped me get my lyre back. Thank you." He shyly tells the noble, then approaches close.
"You can just call me Grycan, and you don't have to thank me. It was my pleasure to help you." The dragon smiles, then snaps. "Hey, I've never heard an angel sing and play the lyre. I'd enjoy it if you would."
The little concert had taken most of the day, in part from Brightcloud's joy at being reunited with his instrument and Grycan wanting to hear it all. It passed through two meals, and only ended up stopping because of the fall of night. Brightcloud's fingers showed no signs of wear despite the sheer volume of time he played at once.
Grycan had retreated to the library while he assumed Brithcloud went to bed, but he is woken up by a soft knock at the door.
"Come on in, Brightcloud" The dragon invites, setting down his book and looking towards the door. It's a good thing he set it down, because he was not expecting what he saw next. His beautiful pet angel, in almost all his glory. There was but a blue sarong wrapped around Brightcloud's lean waist. "Uh, Brightcloud...?"
"Yes, Master Grycan?" The angel asks, waking with a boldness that surprised the dragon. He kneels by where Grycan was sitting, giving the dragon a nice view of his back, and the top of the cheeks hidden by the silk cloth. "Well, ok let me explain. I want." He says simply, hoping Grycan knew what he was referring to.
Grycan smiles and pulls Brightcloud up. Leaning forward, the dragon forks a tongue in to Brightcloud's naval, then looks up at his face. "What made you decide?"
"You were willing to help me. You really didn't have to, but you did." Brightcloud replies, running a finger around the two backwards-pointing horns on the dragon's head. "I think of this place as home, and it's all because you're kind and gentle. So? Now what?"
Grycan puts his hands on Brightcloud's smooth hips, his thumbs caressing the delicate skin over them. "Well...." Grycan begins, then grabs hold, stands into Brightcloud, and swings the angel over his shoulder. Excitement fills the angel, and he giggles while the half-dragon whisks him off to the master bedroom.
Swinging his slave off his shoulder, Grycan sets Brightcloud down on the bed and slides his forked tongue into Brightcloud's mouth. The angel freezes, not sure of what to do.
"I've never-."
"Don't worry about it. I'll teach you." Grycan assures his little pet, then quickly pulls off his clothes and slides down over the angel. When he reaches the two halves of his tongue in, he uses them to massage circles on Brightcloud's. The angel rewards him with not only a moan, but by moving his tongue against Grycan's.
He pulls out of the angel's mouth and begins to lick at the sensitive spots on his face and neck, using his teeth on Brightcloud's gold collar to hold him still while his tongue flares out from between the long, ivory spikes. Brightcloud moaned and reached his hands up delicately to Grycan's scaly chest. His delicate fingertips trace the grooves around his bulky muscles. He raises his knees to Grycan's hips and spreads them, the silk of his sarong flopping down off his naked genitals. Smirking, Grycan reaches a hand down and unties the simple knot, then leaves his hand down there to cup Brightcloud's ass and tease a finger up his crack. The angel flinches, so Grycan eases up. He'd spent a week falling for the angel; he could be patient with an inexperienced lover.
Sliding his thighs up to the bottom of Brightcloud's, Grycan pulls them both upright before Brightcloud even realized his wings were started to get crushed. The angel was slowly catching on that he could mimic Grycan's advances, and quickly became a master as teasing the half-dragon's unique ears. A lick here, a nibble there, and the angel could rob Grycan of his entire train of thought. The dragon retaliates by showing Brightcloud just how good his hardening inches could feel. Falling forward, Brightcloud presses his forehead against a scaled pec wider than his head and grips shoulders while waves of an alien pleasure take hold of him. It didn't take long for them to hit a point where he felt like something was going to happen, even if Grycan stopped. Something that felt good.
"Oh! Uh! Grycan! I love you!" He pants out, not sure of what words were in his mouth before he moaned them out. Around the same time he does, a powerfully vanilla smelling liquid hits high on Grycan's reptilian body. Grycan freezes, and not from the cream on his chest. Brightcloud was panting, pleasure he hadn't known to be possible suddenly racing through him. He stares at the mess he left on the dragon and blushes, looking up with embarrassment in his eyes. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to make a mess...."
"Did you really mean what you said?" The dragon asks critically, holding on to Brightcloud's face and refusing to let him look away. "Did you mean it?"
The angel was confused, and puts his own hands on Grycan's. He was afraid Grycan was angry, and didn't want to give the wrong answer. Only problem was angels were incapable of lying. "Yes, Master Grycan, I do. You treat me well, even in the circumstances we're in, where-."
There was a whole speech the angel was putting together in his head, but the dragon didn't seem to care about the particulars. He kisses the angel hungrily, forcefully. If Grycan weren't holding on, the angel would have been forced onto his back by the sheer volume of te dragon's bod pushing in to him. The true answer had turned out to be the correct one.
"Come here...." The dragon rumbles out softly, pulling the angel in to him and smearing the angel's cum over both of them in the process. Now, more than ever, his rock-solid accessory was eager to meet the tight, velvety hole it was so close to. His tip presses against the entrance, earning a surprised sound from Brightcloud. The dragon borrows from the mess of cum on his and his slave's chest and applies a layer to his aching dick. "Let me show you how I feel...."
Patiently and gently, Grycan guides his second head right up against Brightcloud's moist hole and pushes it inside. It was hard for the dragon not to just plunder his angel, especially knowing his pet was a complete virgin. There was a draconic precedent there, which Grycan managed to ignore.
Brightcloud cried out softly, but holds on to his master. It Meera had given him a heads-up this part, but he hadn't fully believed her. Instead, he had an inch of lightly scaled dragon dick eased inside of him and at least another foot of it to go. He cries out as he feels his body, tight from his recent orgasm, stretch around the girthy dragon, but does not seek to stop the dragon. Meera had warned him that sex would hurt, but it was a kind of hurt he could grow to enjoy. She didn't mention how uncomfortable it would feel.
"Grycan! Owww!!" Brightcloud moans, pausing the dragon's slow advance by a squeeze of the dragon's incredible biceps.
"I'm here, love. Just relax. We can go slow, just let me know what you need." The dragon coos, brushing his lips over the slave's. Brightcloud first lets the lips brush his passively, then grips on to Grycan's lower lip and sucks it into his mouth. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, the angel starts to angle himself down onto Grycan's waiting dick. He tries to relax, like Grycan told him to, but learning how was a slow process.
After the second inch, the next few went in easily. Grycan lets out a hungry groan when Brightcloud discovers this, and just slides down them. Not only was it easy, but it felt good enough to get Brightcloud hard again before it started to hurt again. Letting out a whimper, the angel digs his fingertips in to the dragon's shoulders. He wasn't doing much exertion, but large beads of sweat were forming all over Brightcloud's body. It smelled good enough that Grycan had a moment where he thought angels should never, ever bathe. The option he soon settled on, while holding his pained pet, was to make Brightcloud sweat often and a lot.
"It's ok, babe; just breathe. Breathe.... Do you want to stop?" Grycan asks, gripping and gently squeezing the base of one of Brightcloud's wings. The angel huddles in inside of Grycan's embrace. He pulls some of his sword from it's new scabbard to give Brighcloud some time to recover.
"Uhnn.... I'm ok. I just can't get it all in." The angel sounded disappointed and ashamed by his physical imitations, but Grycan was impressed with him. The average length of a human was around four and a half to five inches, but Grycan had no reference point for angels but Brightcloud himself, and good sized as the angel was by human standards, he was still small for a dragon or half-dragon. Grycan was not.
Grycan strokes Brightcloud's rheek and one of his bubbles. "It's your first time. I'm shocked you took what you did so easily. We'll work up to it." Grycan promises, grinding the section he had pulled out back up into Brightcloud. Catching on quickly, Brighcloud bounces up and down while Grycan's hands wander.
It's not long before Grycan feels Brightcloud throbbing inside. Shortly after, Brightcloud's moaning becomes needful. "Grycan! Uuuhnnn!" He moans, pulling himself close in to his owner.
Grycan wraps around his slave, wings and all, and pushes the angel onto his back and gives him gentle thrusts. Brightcloud moans and writhes, pushing his body down past the half-way point of Grycan's shaft. Going for broke, Grycan starts feeding in inch after inch to his panting angel, whose ecstasy reached a point where he didn't care about the pain. He soon splatters ecstasy on Grycan's chest again with a set of loud whimpers.
The angel himself didn't realize until now what he'd been missing. Grycan's hand had been nice, but being stimulated from inside.... He goes after his lover's ear again, driving Grycan into a frenzy of lust. Brightcloud's insides were still jacking the dick filling them with their peristaltic motion., his dick still straining to squirt out more. The orgasm had sapped his strength, so kissing was most of what he felt like. Getting fucked, though; that he wasn't minding at all.
Grycan moves them back upright, using his tail to balance them on the giant bed. His angel, his slave, his lover was limp in his arms, but enjoying the motion. Grycan wasn't going at it particularly hard, but he was amazed that his first time the angel could handle so much. Perhaps Meera had something to do with it....
But he didn't want to think about her. He had someone more important to mind. That someone stiffens suddenly, and adds to the stickiness between their torsos yet again in the midst or the the thrusting, and then again and again. It drove Grycan mad with lust, and he picks up the pace until Brightcloud cries out in pain.
"Oww! Grycan I need to stop." The angel finally confesses. The half-dragon nods and slowly pulls his tremendous member out. It was still hard, and the scales on it were still slick with the cum used to lubricate it. Useful stuff. Grycan thinks to himself, holding the angel against him and laying down.
He reaches between Brightcloud's legs and begins to stroke it furiously. He wanted hard, and he wanted fast, but Brightcloud wasn't ready for either yet. "I can't believe I made such a mess...." Brightcloud was saying, looking at the cum gluing him to Grycan's beefy chest.
"Pshhhh. It's sex; that mess is a good thing." Grycan promises, kissing the angel, who takes it as a sign to begin rubbing the dragon's chest. He wasn't particularly skilled at finding things that felt exceptionally good yet, but his attempts were not unappealing.
Grycan feels his squirt coming, and begins to grunt loudly. He had his angel right here, beside him, naked, and sweaty The angel had forgotten to do anything until Grycan started shifting around, at which point he resumes his 'duties.'
"I want you to feel this." Grycan tells his pet when his big finish is immanent. He rolls the two of them over and starts pushing in to Brightcloud's ass. The angel is hard almost immediately, though Grycan wasn't going slowly enough to avoid pain. Grycan loses control a little over a third of the way in, and fills his slave with a healthy dose of dragon seed and the air with a roar. He keeps pushing in, further spurts filling his slave. He gets all the way in, and feels an increasingly familiar sensation coming from Brightcloud.
Letting out heavy breaths, Grycan hungrily attacks Brightcloud's warm mouth with his tongue. Gently grinding with his hips, he roughly conquers Brightcloud's mouth, releases it, and conquers it again.
When it was clear that Brightcloud had no energy or cum left to continue with, Grycan rolls onto his back, putting Brightcloud back on top of him. "You have no idea how much I've wanted to do that since I first got you." Grycan purrs to the slave, one hand across folded wings and one Brightcloud's rear. He hadn't pulled out yet, and neither of them seemed to be in any great rush for him to do so.
Brightcloud smiles, letting himself melt against his lover's chest. "What about the mess...?"
"Forget about it. We'll take care of it when we bathe next. You're not going anywhere until then, if I have to restrict you to this very space." Grycan teases, moving his hand to stroke Brightcloud's gold hair.
"Oh; let's see that.." Brightcloud teases back, starting to pull away. Grycan's sense of humor was rubbing off on him.
"Ah no." The dragon quickly interjects, pulling Brightcloud back down.
"Yes Master Grycan." Brightcloud responds, his limbs turning back to liquid.
"Don't call me that." Grycan responds, suddenly serious. Brightcloud raises an eyebrow and pushes himself up so he can look into Grycan's eyes.
"But you are. I'm your slave." Brightcloud replies, genuinely confused. "You own me. I'm yours to do whatever you want. Right?"
Grycan furrows his eyebrows, his mood growing dark. "Yes, you are. And if you insist on bringing that up, I will treat you like one. Is that the only reason you even came here tonight? Because I own you?"
Brightcloud shakes his head. "Of course not, Grycan. I love you."
"Yeah, I love you too. Mad as fuck at you, but I love you too. I don't think I want you in here right now." Grycan lays his hand against Brightcloud's rear and slides the angel off his pole. Angry as he was, he wasn't careful enough to fully avoid hurting the angel, who lets out a loud, painful cry and gasps for air. "Sorry. Now get out of my room."
The angel gasps down another few breaths before starting to move. "That hurt!"
"So did what you said. Now get out."
Brightcloud examines Grycan's stony face, then without another word rises off his lover and grabs his sarong. He was angry now, too. Tying off the simple article, he heads to clean himself off, leaving Grycan alone with a sudden doubt in his decree.