Part 2 of 2. Please see the first part for content summary and warnings.
Anissa’s body was on fire.
It had not taken long for the terror of being carried by the dragon to fade. The first sensation that had risen over the fear was discomfort: cold air rushing past and chilling her naked body, sticky fluids drying on her thighs, the straps of the harness digging into her skin.
When she had started to shiver, though, the dragon had pulled her up closer, until she was cradled against its great body. This seemed to cause Harokk some difficulty in flying, the flaps of its wings becoming more clumsy and its wheeling turns slower–but she was protected from the wind, and warmed by the heat burning out from the creature’s chest. The claws under her took some of her weight off the leather straps, and soon she found herself reasonably comfortable.
And going well out of her mind with desperation.
Her sex burned. All the way from her nub and down deep into her body, to a throbbing place inside which she only imagined must be her womb, her skin was thumping and tingling, consumed with a maddening need for touch.
She spent some time senselessly tugging at the straps that hindered her wrists, trying to reach, to rub herself. Then, in the process of squirming with frustration, she found an angle that allowed her to grind her slit into the ridged, semi-scaled chest of the beast carrying her, and…she became very preoccupied.
Anissa rubbed and rubbed and rubbed herself into Harokk’s hide, lost in the deep fog of oppressive arousal, of sharp need for the satisfaction that remained just out of reach. Her position was far from ideal, offering some pressure but not much else–nothing near enough to bring her to finishing–but the sensation of any touch at all there was so addictive that she couldn’t have made herself stop even if she had wanted to.
She stopped worrying about the fact that she was much higher in the air than she had ever wanted to be, or that she was clutched in the claws of a beast that intended to rape her. She forgot her concerns about humiliating herself. She was hardly aware of the quiet, near-continuous whimpering noises she began to make, little mewls and cries of desperation and frustration and self-pity as she feverishly sought more, some way to touch the throbbing deep inside her, where her need was most crushing.
Even when she began to tire, her movements growing clumsy as she pushed herself awkwardly up into Harokk’s body, she forced herself to keep going, barely able to tolerate even a few moments’ rest.
She wanted…she wanted…
The dragon made a low rumbling sound that vibrated through her, and she shuddered and sobbed, her legs flexing as she tried to spread them wide on instinct, muscles shaking with a primal desire.
If she tilted her head back, she could see the dragon’s stomach and sheath–and the shocking pink organ still peaking out, shiny with fluid, throbbing a bit, as if eager to extend further.
The sight still made Anissa’s heart stutter, made her breath come quick…but she could no longer distinguish whether her reaction was one of fear or excitement.
She couldn’t imagine that such a large member could possibly enter her painlessly. Its full size was still mostly concealed within the beast’s body, and she had no experience whatsoever with the sex organs of human men that were meant to fit inside her, but the tapered tip appeared to swell to nearly the thickness of her own wrist, which was surely far too big.
But Anissa was quickly reaching the point where she thought she could withstand a great deal of pain, if the burning inside her were only sated.
She was so distracted by these thoughts, by her swelling need, that she was startled by the rush of trees rising on either side of them. Only then did she realize that they were descending. The suddenness of the treeline passing them by made her squeak in alarm and clutch at the dragon’s warm bulk–as if she had any hope of hanging on if it were to decide to drop her.
Then she twisted a bit in its grip to look down, and that was a mistake.
She shrieked out loud to see the ground coming up at them so quickly, convinced that she was about to be dashed to death against the rocky earth of the clearing below.
The impact of the dragon was heavy and thunderous, its bulk forcing its hind claws down into the ground–but it clutched Anissa safely against its keel. It flapped its wings a couple of times to hold its balance, kicking up a great wind that stirred dust and made Anissa shriek again, and then–slowly–it settled down, depositing Anissa carefully onto the ground, unharmed.
Only then did she finally quiet, feeling no small amount of embarrassment as the sound of her own hysterical shrieking echoed in her ears.
Lord Tamriel dismounted from the dragon with a heavy sound.
Anissa remained where she was, curled on the ground under Harokk’s shadow, waiting for the powerful woman to come drag gorukle escort her out and tell her what to do.
But the Lord didn’t come to Anissa straight away. She walked away, towards the center of the clearing. An outcropping of rock stuck up out of the earth there, creating a flat, table-like structure.; from the remains of a fire-pit nearby, and a semi-permanent shelter leaning against a large tree at the far end of the rock, it looked as if the clearing was in frequent use as a resting spot by travelers who passed through the forest.
Anissa watched the Lord nervously for a few moments before her attention was captured by a loud rumbling noise from the dragon standing over her.
She quickly looked up at Harokk, and–oh God–it did not escape her notice that the dragon’s sex was even more prominent now, almost three inches protruding from the sheath, the pink color deepening to red.
The dragon tilted its head to the side to stare down at her. Its long, serpentine tongue slipped out and over its thin, reptilian lips, and–like a shock–Anissa was thrust back into the memory of that tongue playing against her sex. The sudden flare of heat in her body washed away the terror that their descent had left in her, battled valiantly against the apprehension inspired by her position.
Harokk’s gaze was sharp and burning on her exposed body; though the creature did not have any human features at all, the lust in its stare was very apparent, as was the way that its attention lingered on her weeping sex.
Anissa had to close her own eyes for a moment and breath deeply through the sudden wave of wanting that rose within her, so sharp that her body almost cramped with it.
It was then that the beast’s tongue flicked against one of her nipples.
Anissa’s eyes flew open, wide with shock at the intensity of the feeling, at the way her entire body lit up with it. “Oh–“
The dragon rumbled at her and dipped its enormous head down, closer to her body. She flinched in fear, but of course it did not try to bite her; instead it just licked her again, and again, the thin tongue playing over her breasts. Sometimes it seemed to intentionally avoid her nipples, teasing around them or just glancing off the side; other times it licked directly over one, curling its tongue in maddening swirls straight on the sensitive buds.
It wasn’t long before Anissa was panting and gasping and whimpering, squirming in the dirt and lifting her hips up–not with any real plan to entice the beast to do anything, but simply because she couldn’t help but seek the motions that her body instinctively craved. Her untouched sex spasmed hungrily. She tugged ineffectually at the straps restraining her wrists, near-mindless with the rising need.
When the dragon lifted its head away, leaving her nipples cool with the wet of its spit and still starving with need for its touch, she cried out in dismay and arched her back, trying to push her breasts up towards it.
It made a low chuffing sound which melded eerily with the heavy laugh of Lord Tamriel–who was stepping up beside them, ducking under the dragon to approach Anissa.
“Look at you, pretty girl. Getting a bit messy down there in the dirt, eh? Come on, I made us a nice spot on the rock there.”
Anissa couldn’t stand, not any more. When Lord Tamriel pulled her up, her legs wobbled and curled, her knees bending inward; just the pressure of Lord Tamriel’s arm around her waist fanned the flames inside her, making her moan. She was so aroused that it felt like a sort of sickness, like a fever.
Lord Tamriel seemed to expect this, though. She just gathered Anissa all the way up in her arms–she had shed her heavy leather armor at some point, and the linen clothing underneath was rough-woven but well-worn, textured but soft against Anissa’s skin–and carried her across the clearing.
“Please…what’s happening to me? I don’t understand,” Anissa begged, trembling with what she suspected was no longer fear at all, but simply the greatness of her physical desire.
“That village wisewoman didn’t explain it, hmm? I guess she didn’t want to frighten you,” Lord Tamriel mused. “Well, this spell she’s put on you here, it’s only the first step of the ordeal. Your body is anxious to finish.”
Anissa shuddered from her shoulders down to her toes at the word finish, because yes, she was.
Lord Tamriel chuckled. Harokk, following closely behind them like a great skulking predator, mirrored the sound with another chuff. “Yeah, that’s right. But you won’t get there until Harokk spends in you. Your womb’s waiting on his seed.”
“Oh–” Anissa whimpered and shuddered again, her eyelids fluttering at the strong response her body had to that thought. Of Harokk not only penetrating her, but spending in her–using her to completion, filling her with his beastly issue–“I, please…”
“Mm-hmm.” Lord Tamriel nodded, a look of satisfaction on her face. “That’s the nature of things bursa görükle escort for you, now. That spell primes you, makes you receptive, and you’re just waiting to be shown who you’re meant to receive.” She climbed the rock with only a little difficulty, even with Anissa slung over her shoulder, and then settled there on a blanket.
Anissa settled into her lap, directed by the dragon rider’s strong, calloused hands, so that she knelt with her thighs spread wide over Lord Tamriel’s. The position made her blush, but she also found herself tugging at the restraining straps again, trying to reach her sex.
Then Lord Tamriel reached a hand between her legs and fondled her.
Anissa keened, her thighs trembling as she lurched into the delicious, torturous sensation. It was a clash of overwhelming sensation–she needed to finish, more than she’d ever needed it in her life, and she also felt so impossibly close…
But, at the same time, she could feel that it wouldn’t happen. Not like this.
Her womb throbbed and burned and made its demands very clear, in a way that Anissa could only fully understand now that Lord Tamriel had explained it. Only the dragon’s cock would satisfy her.
“Please, please,” Anissa sobbed, wriggling and straining in Lord Tamriel’s lap, rocking into the horrible, amazing touch. “I can’t, oh God, I can’t, I need–I need–“
“You need to be opened up a bit more, is what you need,” Lord Tamriel advised firmly, slipping one teasing finger into Anissa’s hole and making Anissa whimper at the sudden invasion. “And I think you might need another spanking, too, for good measure.”
“I–no!”
“No what?”
Anissa shuddered, trying to force herself to sound reasonably firm, even as the slow drag and twiddle of Lord Tamriel’s finger inside of her fluttering body brought her nearly to the point of tears with how needy and overwhelmed she felt. “No, you don’t need to spank me!”
“Is that so? You know who’s in charge now, hmm? Say it for me, then.”
Anissa squeezed her eyes shut, a taste of the humiliation from before rising in her throat like bile. She opened her mouth…but couldn’t manage to make herself form the words; all that came out were choked, involuntary little cries, forced from her throat by the finger moving inside her.
“No? Alright then,” and then the finger was withdrawing and–
“No, no, no,” Anissa begged.
Lord Tamriel was not deterred at all by her pleas.
She spanked Anissa firmly, in the same pattern as before: one on each cheek, and then one swat firmly on her sensitive, overheated slit.
The first swat to her sex shocked Anissa into trying to escape. The other woman was much too strong for Anissa to have any hope of it, though, especially in her weakened state; Lord Tamriel simply tightened an arm around her waist and went at it again–cheek, cheek, and sex–and Anissa squealed in impotent, desperate protest.
She choked on swiftly-rising tears, overwhelmed by the sensation of helplessness, the deeply personal nature of the chastisement, the casual sense of ownership with which Lord Tamriel handled her. Anissa may have been swatted by her parents once or twice for misbehaving, but even they would never have dared to spank between her legs–that was a place that had always belonged solely to herself.
Not any longer, she was rapidly realizing.
A third round, which forced the tears out of her in great hiccoughing sobs, and then Lord Tamriel went straight from spanking her to shoving two fingers firmly into her grasping tunnel, rocking in a rhythm that immediately soothed the sharpness of the desperation that had been rising in her in response to the spanking, her body comforted by the sensation of being filled and thrust into.
Anissa’s sobbing quieted to whimpers and sniffles, and she held on dizzily, no longer trying to get away. She was still squirming, certainly, but now it was an attempt to ride down onto the fingers inside her–though Lord Tamriel’s grip on her didn’t allow for that, either.
“Well?” Lord Tamriel asked. “Who’s in charge, pretty girl? I need you to say it.”
Anissa swallowed heavily and tried to reason with herself. It would be best to just say what the woman wanted, wouldn’t it?…But some part of herself still resisted. A bit deep in her core that said she wasn’t cowed so easily–that if someone was going to claim to be the master of her, they would need to prove it.
She shook her head.
Lord Tamriel laughed. “So that’s how it’s gonna be, huh? Alright. You just tell me when you’re ready to stop.”
And then she started spanking again, and this time she was serious.
She no longer worked to a predictable pattern. She moved indiscriminately between Anissa’s rear and her sex, sometimes focusing on one or the other for several strikes in a row. Occasionally she went down to Anissa’s thighs, on the backs of them or the sensitive skin inside them, making Anissa squeal and struggle with shock.
Lord Tamriel alternated the blows occasionally with firm thrusts of her fingers, penetrating Anissa and sometimes spreading her open, sudden but not rough–never long enough to give a true break, just enough to pull Anissa back from the hysterical edge that she approached, enough to remind her of what it was that she wanted, what she needed.
Swat after swat, that final stubborn bulwark in Anissa’s heart was worn away, leaving only the realization that she was doing nothing but foolishly railing against bald fact.
She belonged to Lord Tamriel now. To the dragon lords and their beasts. Only someone who owned her, body and soul, could presume to discipline her this way.
“I’m sorry! Lord Tamriel!” Anissa cried finally, hearing the surrender in her own voice as much as she felt it in her body, in how the rigidity in her hips unlocked and her passage clenched and throbbed. “I’m sorry, it’s you, you’re in charge!”
“Good girl. That’s right, good girl,” Lord Tamriel responded instantly, her voice going low and crooning as she plunged her fingers into Anissa again–three this time, Anissa realized, only after she let out a loud and unrestrained moan at how thick they felt inside her. “That’s it. Feels good, huh? We’ve got you now. We’re gonna make this so easy for you, pretty thing. You don’t have to worry about anything except doing exactly what Harokk and I want you to do.”
“Yes. Okay. Yes,” Anissa whimpered. “What–what do you want me to–” she lost the end of the question, too enraptured by the feeling of Lord Tamriel’s fingers rocking in and out of her, and she recognized distantly that there wasn’t any of that pinching, stretching pain any more, not like there had been at the beginning. “Mm–oh–please–“
“Skies above, you’re wet,” Lord Tamriel murmured. “I think you’re about ready, hmm? And Harokk is running out of patience.”
She lifted her chin. Anissa followed the motion to see that Harokk had sprawled out on the dirt beside them, one haunch lifted in the air, exposing his now fully engorged member.
The head–which Anissa was faintly relieved now to see was, in fact, the thickest part of the thing–flared out into a diamond sort of shape, centered around a rosy-flushed hole that was dripping provocatively. The rest of the organ tapered down to something a bit slimmer, though still fairly intimidating; it was nearly as long as her own forearm.
“It’s too much,” she protested weakly, and Lord Tamriel nodded.
“Oh, sure, he won’t get the whole thing in. He’ll do his best, though. And better too long than too short, isn’t that right? You want him all the way up in here, don’t you?”
She punctuated her words with a firm thrust of her fingers, digging as deep inside Anissa as she could reach, and Anissa sobbed and trembled, because it wasn’t deep enough.
“Yes,” she admitted, her fingers knotting in the linen of Lord Tamriel’s shirt, down near the other woman’s waist, which was as high as she could reach with her wrists still restrained. “Please, I want him, please.”
“That’s right. Good girl,” Lord Tamriel assured her, and Anissa sobbed again, clinging close to the dragon lord as she was moved.
Lord Tamriel lay down on the blanket, pulling Anissa on top of her until Anissa lay sprawled, her legs spread wide to accommodate the larger woman’s broad hips.
A shadow fell over them, and a low rumble announced Harokk’s approach.
Anissa moaned and shuddered, feeling a brief flash of that apprehension again–and then the dragon’s tongue flickered over her sex, dipped between her lips to tease that sensitive organ at the tip, and she cried out and bucked, trembling as a rush of fluid dribbled from her desperate body.
Lord Tamriel groaned beneath her, in time with Harokk rumbling above.
When Anissa looked down at her, the inhuman yellow color of the dragon rider’s eyes had slimmed to a thin ring around her dilated pupils, her gaze burning as she stared up at Anissa. “The taste of you, girl.”
“You…you can taste…?” Anissa whimpered, then squealed as Harokk’s tongue squirmed against her once more, dipping teasingly inside her hole. “Oh…!”
“I told you. We share half a mind. I taste what he tastes,” Lord Tamriel said, her pronunciation of the words blurring a bit–almost as if she were drunk, or trying to speak with a mouth the wrong shape. “And what he tastes on you…the smell of you…like a dragon-hen in heat, but sweeter…”
She groaned again, then grabbed firmly between Anissa’s thighs. Anissa whimpered, hoping to be speared on the other woman’s fingers again, but instead Lord Tamriel used two fingers to pry Anissa’s lips open, leaving her even more exposed to the lashing and dragging of the dragon’s tongue.
After that, it became hard for Anissa to keep her wits about her.
She couldn’t say how long it was that she lay there, trapped between them, writhing and choking and whining as Harokk licked at her, exploring her tender skin with its–his–tongue. She fell into a space in her mind where there was no difference from a minute to an hour, where any time at all felt like an eternity, like long expanses of surging desire, pounding blood inside her veins.