The Warmth of a Dragoness

All characters are 18 years of age or older. Constructive feedback welcomed.

---

Thomas stood at the mouth of the cave for quite some time. Back over his shoulder, the path he traveled that morning tempted him to reconsider. Good time was made in his blind ambition, the sun not having fully risen yet. Nobody would know he had gone. He could still go back and pretend to have never had this ridiculous idea.

Nobody would have known I had gone, he thought to himself again. A familiar pit grew in his stomach. No, this was the only way. With bare feet, muddy and cold, he fastened his father's sword tight to his belt and stepped inside.

It was like entering another world. The forest ambiance died away, replaced with an ominous, wet hum. Soon daylight was no longer welcome and a torch had to be lit.

The path wound on. Rounding a corner, a light at the end of the tunnel stole his breath. His heart raced when the telltale vibrations of a large, sleeping creature echoed from deep within.

Setting down the torch, he crawled on hands and knees to peer into the chamber.

A sense of icy dread washed over him. Thomas had never seen a dragon before. It was curled up sleeping, facing his direction. His hand found the grip of the sword on its own as he watched in awe.

The chamber was lit dimly by strange, glowing crystals that dotted the walls and ceiling. The dragon was coated in dark red scales that shimmered as it breathed. A set of wings wrapped around its body. If Thomas wasn't terrified he may have thought the sight beautiful.

Sitting down, he leaned against the wall. He drew the sword and held it close, eyes shut. It was now or never.

He inched into the chamber, slowly, silently. If the dragon didn't wake, he could strike.

Closer and closer through the light of the crystals he went, stepping over bones strewn here and there. A lump in his throat kept him from swallowing. Standing near its chest now, he raised the sword high. His heart was ice, muscled tensed.

"How fortunate," the voice made Thomas scream and fall backwards, the sword clattered to the ground. "I do enjoy a meal that ambles in willingly."

A set of fierce eyes glared at him, its head raising high into the air.

"Though you don't look like you have much meat on you," it said in an oddly feminine voice.

Thomas felt around for the blade, unable to tear his wide gaze from the dragon's. It seemed to be watching with a wicked glee as he struggled. At last his fingers found the sword. He managed to stand on trembling legs.

"My name is Thomas. I've come t-" his throat let slip a silent hiccup, "-to-"

"Kill me?" the dragon mused.

Thomas gave a shaky nod.

It looked him over. "I've had my fair share of would-be slayers but none as much of a runt as you, little boy."

A hot coal of anger began to melt his fear. "I'm not a little boy!"

It grinned. "What would make a little human venture out here to die, I wonder? What prize could be so worth the risk?" It leaned in a bit closer.

Thomas tried to hold the blade steady. "They think I'm worthless," he shivered, "because I'm small for my age. It's always been like that. I'm tired of it. I'm tired of nobody caring about me."

The dragon regarded him once more. "It's almost a shame to consume such a fiery little thing."

"Stop it!" Thomas shouted, still trembling.

The dragon grinned wickedly. It began to circle. Thomas spun around slowly, following it with the tip of the sword.

"I doubt such a small thing has even mated yet," it chided.

Thomas felt the heat of blood fill his face. "Y-you don't know anything."

It laughed. "I'm right, aren't I?" His embarrassment seemed to fill the beast with amusement. "I must say you are by far the most adorable little dragon slayer I've ever seen."

Thomas charged, sword held forward. At once he was knocked back by a massive clawed hand. The sword clanged to the cave floor a second time, sliding out of sight.

"That's enough," the dragon said, "I've grown tired of this." It reared back its head, inhaling deeply. An orange light began to glow hot in the back of its throat. Thomas stared weakly into the maw of death, and felt tears blur his vision. Thomas shut his eyes so tight it hurt. The tears streamed down as he waited for fire and pain. It never came.

He opened his eyes. The dragon was staring down, silent.

"Never before have I seen such a display that would make me feel pity for a human," it said.

"If you're going to kill me, just do it!" Thomas pleaded.

It was looking him over, thinking. "No," it said finally, "I think I'll try something different with you."

It approached with intent. Thomas tried to crawl backwards but its massive gait closed the distance fast before pinning him down with a large claw.

"I've grown tired of the drudgery, little thing," it admitted, "while other human males enter my lair with an obnoxious bravado, your delicate nature appeals more to my dominating sensibilities." It loomed closer, leaning down to Thomas' face. Its eyes took on a different sort of hunger. "That is why I've decided to mate with you."

Thomas gaped.

"It is more than a fair compromise," it continued, "I haven't had a mate in over a century. Other dragons are so hard to come by. Not to mention, they can be quite taken with themselves. I find it tiresome. You, however, will be much easier to keep as a pet."

He stared in disbelief as it lifted the claw to free him. He sat up. "I don't..."

"It's not a matter of whether you want to or not. It is what will happen. Instead of eating you, you will be my plaything and do as I say. My previous mate often regaled me with tales of his human concubines. I would be lying if I said the thought didn't pique my interest."

She looked him up and down. "You will begin by disrobing."

Thomas couldn't feel his body. Growing impatient with his open-mouth stare, the dragon sighed. She reached forward, and with a single talon tore his tunic in half at the chest.

"You may call me Mistress, and only Mistress," she said simply. "Stand up."

Thomas managed to obey. The ruined tunic fell away. Red streaks from the now dried tears marked his face.

"Remove the rest of your clothes that I may get a proper look at you," she commanded, towering above.

Hands shaking, Thomas removed his belt grabbed the hem of his pants. With great reluctance, he pulled them down and stepped out. His nude body shivered in the crystal light before her. A smirk came upon her face. She scanned down to examine between his legs.

"I wish to see you unsheathed."

Thomas could only stand there, numb. The dragon scoffed at his ineptitude. "Very well, then I will have to do it for you."

She lowered toward him. He winced as she opened her mouth, and a long, forked tongue slithered out to glide its way down his stomach to his flaccid penis. A trail of warm saliva was left in its wake. Her tongue teased his parts gently. He let out a whimper of involuntary pleasure when it began to grow despite his paralyzing fear. She wrapped her tongue several times around his shaft with great expertise, leaving behind a thick, glistening coat of spit until it was standing straight up. As she pulled away, a string of saliva kept them briefly connected before falling to the cave floor, and heavy drops oozed down his legs. A bead of his essence emerged at the tip from an uncontrollable ache, glistening in the light of the crystals.

"Much better," she whispered. "You are no dragon, but you will do. Now, then."

She turned and stalked to the far side of the chamber where she had been sleeping. Hunkering down, she rolled to her back and looked expectantly over to him.

"As you are my pet, you will service me whenever I tell you. Is that understood?"

Thomas stuttered incomprehensibly in response.

"Is that understood?" she repeated sharply.

"Yes!" Thomas squeaked.

"Yes, what?"

"Y-yes, Mistress!"

"So get over here and do your duty."

Thomas, naked and cold and terrified, hurried over. He gave her a look of uncertainty. She sighed, gesturing downward, "You may use your mouth."

Thomas followed the gesture down between her hind legs where a slit was visible. It was at his eye level. Her red scales shifted to a smooth mound, a hint of pink peeking out from its lips. He reached out, finding it pleasantly soft.

"I'm growing impatient," she said.

He leaned in, setting his lips on her. A sigh escaped her mouth. Thomas found himself continuing, almost spurred on now by her sounds. He traced slow lines across her slit. It tasted unlike anything he knew before. He allowed his tongue to push in slightly to savor more of that taste. Moving upward, he came into contact with a little, pink pearl, which sent a purr of excitement radiating from her throat.

"Good little boy," she moaned.

Thomas realized that while the fear persisted, it was now cut with a strange sense of exhilaration. At the very least, this was much more preferable to a painful death.

Several minutes passed as he lapped at her mound.

"That is enough. You may enter me now."

Thomas began to speak but a deep growl silenced him. Climbing on top of her, he straddled the base of her tail, steadying himself with his hands on her smooth, scaly belly. His erect penis was just above the wet and waiting slit.

He looked up. She was staring down at him with an expecting intensity. He averted his gaze, pressing the head of his penis to her lips. A tingling heat met him. He guided the tip inside, enthralled now by this indescribable feeling enveloping him, drawing him in. Slowly he pushed until he was buried to the hilt.

"That's it," she purred, "very good."

Fear had gone, replaced by an instinct he never had the opportunity to explore. His hips pulled, exposing the shaft, moist from her desire. It was a thick wetness that coated him, even managing to cover his pelvis entirely due to her size. He pushed back in, savoring the tightness that set his senses ablaze. The sound of their sex echoed against the cavern walls alongside a faint silhouette. It was a song of wet, sliding flesh and moans of unshackled passion.

"Take me, pet."

Thomas did as he was told. After a few moments he was unable to hold himself up as his body shook with pleasure. Falling forward onto her stomach, he relished the heat that emanated forth as it warmed his small frame. He kept thrusting with an intensity that mounted with each passing moment, lost in carnal ecstasy.

"I see you're enjoying yourself, little thing," she smiled, "your frenzied, virginal lust is quite amusing."

Her tongue no longer cut. He felt himself experiencing a closeness he never knew. Staring into her eyes, he penetrated her slit again and again. That look of longing seemed to take her by surprise. Her sudden bewilderment recovered to a mocking smirk.

"How adorable!" she laughed, "I do believe my little pet has grown fond of its mistress. That took far less time than I imagined. You truly are starved for affection, aren't you? Poor thing."

Thomas panted in response, his hips unceasing. A pressure began to fill his loins.

"M-Mistress!" he shouted desperately.

"Are you going to finish?" she said, "I suppose it can't be helped. Go on, then, my precious, little thing."

"M-M-!" was all that escaped his lips. Pushing in as deep as he could, an explosion of euphoria and heat ravished him. Wave after wave washed over his body as he pumped his essence within her. He quaked and spasmed but held on to her tightly until he went limp.

"Good boy," she cooed. He felt a gentle talon stroke his hair. "Good boy."

He remained inside her. Aftershocks of his orgasm pulsed sporadically as her slit coaxed every last drop of his seed. The warmth was intoxicating. He looked up, his eyelids heavy in a state of drunken bliss. She gave him a smile.

"Who's my little pet?" Her whisper was everything he always wanted.

Thomas lay his head on her stomach, shutting his eyes as he smiled. "I am, Mistress."