The Dragon's Mistress (Dragon Erotica) (3 page)

"Don't you remember now, this pleasure?" he
asked, crawling over her back to whisper into her ear.

"Yes," she gasped, a flood of memories racing
through her mind. She knew Erik and she knew this place. This was
their paradise, this little room where they fought for control and
enraptured each other with stimulation.

"You always wanted to control some land or
another. You still do. But tonight I will give you a lesson in
dominance." Guinevere watched in awe as he dropped his white linen
pants to reveal a massive, hard manhood. She recognized it, and the
memory of him taking her caused an eruption of desire in her
loins.

"Oh, please," she moaned. "Take me. It has
been so long since I've been touched."

Erik grinned and reached up to grab her long
hair, pulling it in his tight grasp so that she could no longer
look back. A small cry escaped her lips, and she felt him press
against her quivering sex.

"Will this be your first time as a human
woman?" he asked, pulling her hair tighter still.

"Yes," she gasped, the pain from her scalp
shooting down to her womanhood. He probed her with the tip of his
manhood, gyrating its smooth tip against her gushing wetness. A
sumptuous thudding swept her body and she groaned, pleading in her
mind for him to spear her.

"If you insist," he laughed lowly, just
before he filled her with a surge of aching hardness. He stimulated
a storm within her as the walls of her wild flower throbbed around
him. She was like a volcano, bubbling with wanton desire. Erik
reached his hands up her body and groped her bountiful chest,
pulling the nipples into his palms. He pulled back and thrust into
her, causing her to whimper.

"Should I fill you with my seed?" he coaxed.
Guinevere, forgetting her resolve to become a man, shuddered at the
thought. It sounded so delectable to her, and she gave a wistful
nod of her head.

"Please." Her legs clenched as he continued
to stab himself into her and set her loins ablaze with passion.
"Fill me. Make me yours."

"You have always been," he growled, and with
that he thrust harder than he ever had before, sending Guinevere's
face to the soft bed. She gripped the luxurious sheets into her
palms, panting desperately against them. He continued to pound into
her, a loud thudding filling the room as his sex smacked against
her round buttocks. She yelped, a thudding drum sounding off in her
delicate womanhood. It was hard and yearning for release, pent up
inside of her with bolts of rushing blood. She was growing and
hardening, and she could feel Erik do the same.

"Say you want it," he commanded.

"I want it!" she cried desperately. The fire
grew, consuming her and pulsing with greater force. She felt him
shudder inside of her, filling her with a flood of wet longing and
she exploded, a rapture gripping her limbs and thrashing about
until she convulsed. After several moments the quake subsided,
slowly, turning the yearning into a steady contentment.

"You are marked by me," Erik laughed. "May
the princess bring to me a little prince."

Erik awoke her early the next morning,
shaking her shoulders and forcing her to get dressed.

"The more we travel during the daylight, the
better. Us inhabitants of the Man of the Dead Land avoid it as much
as possible."

Guinevere forced herself out of bed,
remembering her mission and cursing herself for her actions the
night before. She should not have taken his seed, but if she were
to become a man, she imagined it would not make much difference
either way.

Erik fed her some foreign and gamey meat, and
a heavenly mead that he swore would give her energy and take place
for the sleep she lacked. She immediately felt a buzz coursing
through her veins.

Outside all of the nymphs that were
previously milling about were nowhere to be seen. The two of them
hoisted themselves on Taerion, with Erik in the lead. They rode out
into the forest, which was denser and bleaker than the King's
Forest she had known, filled with bogs and quicksand that Erik knew
like the back of his hand.

"Careful here," he would say, grabbing the
reins of Taerion and guiding them away from danger. Guinevere would
ask him questions about her previous life and he would inform her.
In her past life as a nymph she also wanted to seize the
empire--that was why she went after the dragon's treasure. She felt
that returning it would so move her father that he would
undoubtedly name her next in line.

"But I'm sure like I do now, I wanted what
was best for the empire," she said with a curt nod of her head.

"No, you wanted power. Then as you do now.
You can call yourself whatever you want, Gladia, but you haven't
changed. You are a power hungry woman in a man's world," he
laughed, causing Guinevere to scowl.

They continued on through the forest until
dusk, when they finally reached the base of the goliath Mountains
of Hellspring. The land jutted up before her, like an angry god had
raised the forest. From the inclined forest jagged cuts of rock
shot out into the heavens, patched with dark dirt and the
occasional patches of green.

"This is where I leave you," Erik said with a
solemn nod.

"And the dragon?" Guinevere asked, trying to
keep a calm demeanor.

"There," Erik said, pointing to a gap in the
rock above them. Guinevere nodded. Taerion stomped his hooves and
whinnied in fear.

"You do not have to pretend to be brave,"
Erik said, giving her the most severe look she had seen on his
countenance to date. "There is nothing wrong with accepting the
life you have been given."

"The life I have been given is that of
society's slave. If I can't rule as a woman, than I will rule as a
man--or die."

Erik shook his head. "Still just as
stubborn." He reached out his wide hand and stroked her face
delicately. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath in,
relishing in the last moments of his cool touch.

"Goodbye, Erik," she said, putting her hand
over his and gently removing it. She gave him a small smile.
"Perhaps one day we shall meet again."

"Perhaps," he said, forcing a smile of his
own. "Goodbye."

Guinevere turned away as Erik lowered himself
from Taerion's back. She gave him a quick swift kick and she forced
herself not to look back. She knew the future king of Aspen could
not dwell on past romances.

They reached the large black opening of
Mortagon's cave, the cool air greeting them from the inside. She
kissed Taerion and tied him up to a nearby tree, leaving him some
oats and apples.

"I do not know when I shall return, but have
faith," she whispered as she stroked his mane. He munched happily,
unaware that his owner may not return and he may be left out in the
wild to fend for himself.

Guinevere pulled a cloak from out of her bag
and wrapped it around herself, pulling it closely to her body with
one arm and holding her torch with the other. Cameron had enchanted
it so that it would burn in any cave without being struck and would
not go out as long as she held it.

Inside the cave she could hear the slow
dripping of water echoing across the walls. She held up her torch
to see long rock fangs protruding from the ceiling and up from the
ground around her. The cave widened before her, and she turned to
see in every directions that the walls had repelled from her.

"Who dares enter my lair," came a loud,
inhuman voice. It sounded like hell had risen through the cave to
address her.

Guinevere took a deep breath and placed a
hand on the hilt of her sword. "It is I," she said loudly.
"Princess Guinevere of Aspen. I have come to retrieve the
stone."

"Princess Guinevere?" the voiced paused and
she heard a long hiss. Suddenly the ground beneath her rumbled. The
dragon appeared within the glow of her torch. He was wide and
large, but not quite so large as she had imagined. Rather, he
seemed two men long and two men thick, with dark brown scales on
his back and sharp ridges along each side of it. His snout was long
and rounded at the end, and his eyes were the size of a large man's
fist, red with dark slits down the middle. Guinevere had never seen
anything so intimidating in her life.

"You lie!" he roared, jumping back on his
hind legs to reveal the expanse of his smooth white stomach.
Guinevere fell to the ground in shock and pulled her sword out in
front of her, ready for a fight. There was a blazing heat and a
flash of light, and she wondered for a moment if this was how she
would die. But a moment later she could still feel her heart
beating in her chest, and she opened her eyes to see that flaming
torches lit the wide cave. On the floor surrounding her there were
broken bits of bone and skull, some with rags still clinging to
them, weapons scattered about. She suddenly realized how little
fear she could hope to inspire in the dragon. This truly was
suicide.

"I do not lie. End me Mortagon, quick. For my
life is no life at all without that stone," she said bravely,
lowering her sword as she stood to meet her death.

"You are Gladia! They have recast you as a
human, but I can smell your blood--it is the same."

"I have been reborn," she declared. "I am no
longer Gladia. Once you kill me, I will be remembered as
Guinevere
—
Gladia is already dead."

"No," the dragon roared. "I will not kill
you. You will be my mistress once again, as you swore!" A flash of
light and heat came from Mortagon's mouth, and Guinevere flinched
as the fire from his large nostrils struck the ground beside her,
charring the broken bits of bone into black dust.

"But what use do you have for me as a
mistress? What companionship could such a monster want?" Guinevere
roared back, no longer afraid of death.

"To your knees," Mortagon hissed, a long,
black tongue shooting from between his teeth, evenly forked down
the middle.

"Never. Kill me as I stand, a warrior,"
Guinevere demanded.

"You foolish girl! Would you risk Aspen for
your pride?" Mortagon's wings stretched, and he revealed their
goliath width, twice the size of his own body. Guinevere felt her
heart sink--she knew that if he chose he could fly over her kingdom
and roast it within minutes.

"As you wish," she said in a hush, the
miserable numbness of defeat filling her body. She feel to her
knees and the dragon approached her, the ground shaking with every
movement of his body. Guinevere gasped as the dragon's sex came
into view--it was long and bifurcated like his tongue, and each
side was as thick as her wrist. It was a light, almost translucent
pink with popping veins of various colors. It was hideous. Her own
sex trembled in fear.

"No," she gasped in horror.

"Take it into your mouth, our the kingdom you
love will cease to exist!" the dragon roared, thrusting his lower
half so that his hardened sex collided with her face, sending her
backwards to crash against the hard cave floor.

Guinevere scrambled to her knees and faced
the monster cock, opening her pretty lips and puzzling over how to
fit it in her mouth. She gave one side of the member a small lick
and grabbed the other with her hand. It was cool and wet, and felt
soothing against her tongue. She moved her mouth alongside it,
running her mouth against the length of it while she slide her hand
on the other side. Shivers shot down her spine as she felt the
familiar ache grow inside of her. Her legs tensed as she reached
the base of it, where it disappeared into his smooth white belly.
She gripped each side with both hands and pulled back. Mortagon
stamped a foot and hissed, sending a shot of lust through her body.
She slid her hands and her body so that her mouth was facing the
tip of his goliath cock. She did her best to fight against the
restraints of her jaw and took in the tip of his sex, rejoicing
silently over its massive girth and cool, slick feel. Her mouth
salivated and mixed with the milky whiteness that covered
Mortagon's member. She eagerly moved her head forward, taking as
much as she could before choking.

"You enjoy it, Gladia?" he laughed, his
chortles reverberating through her nimble body.

"No. I love Aspen," she said curtly, a blush
forming over her cheeks. She was glad that he could not see her,
for she wanted him to believe she was still entirely disgusted with
him.

"Then keep your word and I will spare your
dear Aspen."

Guinevere wrapped her tongue around the tip
of the monstrous member and slurped up the white puss frothing from
the tip. Her legs trembled, threatening to collapse beneath her.
She wrapped her lips over one side of his pink, veiny cock once
again, and Mortagon thrashed the side of her face with the other,
leaving a cool sting of dragon pre-cum on her face.

"W-why--" she fell back and gasped.

"I want to take you. Turn over on your hands
and knees," he growled. Guinevere fell to her hands and knees like
a dog and felt the panic well up inside of her. She did not know
how she could survive such a ravishing. But she knew she had signed
up for death, and she could not turn back now. Not when her kingdom
relied on her.

She felt one of the cool arms of his member
tease her moist opening, paralyzing her with an electric thrill.
The other snaked around her buttocks, and she was shocked by its
flexibility. Then she felt a sharp pang inside of her, and she
screamed bloody murder as Mortagon ravished her, his sharp, cool
member the size of a young maiden's arm thrashing inside of her.
The cool blood dripped down her thighs as he found new depths
inside of her.

Guinevere was both horrified and alive with
pulsing passion. Erik's manhood could hold no candle to the dragon
inside of her. She continued to scream, throwing her head back with
each pulse inside of her.